

### ANCIENT ISLAND

### D M Harp

Copyright © 2017 by D M Harp

Smashwords Edition  
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### Acknowledgments

Special thanks to:

• The Venus Project: <https://www.thevenusproject.com/>

• The Archbold Biological Station

• Bok Tower Gardens

• Weeki Wachee Springs State Park

### Dedicated to Linda

Hero of hyphens, conqueror of commas, and killer of contractions

A valiant guardian of grammer against overwhelming odds

### Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1: The Kings

Chapter 2: Bayport

Chapter 3: Rebecca's Dollhouse

Chapter 4: A New Beginning

Chapter 5: The Birthday

Chapter 6: Etz Chayim

Chapter 7: Preacher Man

Chapter 8: The Dream

Chapter 9: Haley's Eyes

Chapter 10: Old Friends

Chapter 11: God's Plan

Chapter 12: Brian and the Nina Nizhoni

Chapter 13: Archie and Anastasius

Chapter 14: Billy Bowlegs

Chapter 15: Lost Childhood

Chapter 16: Free Will

Chapter 17: The Geneticist

Chapter 18: The Last Summer

Chapter 19: The Hidden Spring

Chapter 20: Revelation

Chapter 21: The Awakening

Chapter 22: The Trip

Chapter 23: The Orion Institute

Chapter 24: Future Tech

Chapter 25: The Partial Truth

Chapter 26: Haley's Choice

Chapter 27: Proof of God?

Chapter 28: Daniel's Decision

Chapter 29: Together Again

Chapter 30: School of Wizardry

Chapter 31: Indoctrination

Chapter 32: The QBIFI

Chapter 33: 9/11

Chapter 34: Quarantine

Chapter 35: Australia

Chapter 36: Christmas

Chapter 37: Family

Chapter 38: John Weston

Chapter 39: Murder?

Chapter 40: The Blind Assassin

Chapter 41: J. Alfred

Chapter 42: A Mermaid's Message

Chapter 43: The Jack in the Box

Chapter 44: Eighteen Years Later

Chapter 45: Defining Miracles

Chapter 46: Foundation

Chapter 47: Frankenfood in 2003

Chapter 48: Death of a Street Performer

Chapter 49: Rodney

Chapter 50: Hell: Been There, Done That

Chapter 51: Katerina

Chapter 52: RANEBOWGURL

Chapter 53: Brian and Katie

Chapter 54: Pandora's Box

Chapter 55: The Program

Chapter 56: Redemption

Chapter 57: Resource-Based Economy

Chapter 58: Networks

Chapter 59: One World Order

Chapter 60: Memories

Chapter 61: Brave New World

### Prologue

A million years before the Florida peninsula existed, a chain of small islands arose from Earth's primordial oceans. Today we call it the Florida Ridge. It was there an ancient and highly advanced civilization established a final sanctuary containing an underground library with historical records and remnants of technology. Although the archaeological site was discovered in 1930 by French explorer Claude Gautier, it remains a closely guarded secret to this day.

\-----------------------------------

January 13, 1930:

Claude Gautier could not look away from the object. The young French explorer was staring at the greatest archaeological discovery in human history; a fifty-foot-wide granite dome with a golden door worth enough money to buy a small country. His fingers trembled as they brushed across the elaborate inscriptions written in an unknown language. The scientific calculations and meticulous astronomical diagrams were beyond his comprehension.

He wondered, _"How has it remained undetected?"_ The object was not hidden in the Amazon jungle or the remote Egyptian desert, but less than one day's walk from the busy logging town of Venus, Florida. It was a technological marvel beyond anything he had ever seen.

The young Frenchman removed a small hammer from his belt and rapped hard on the door. A deep echo indicated a large chamber, the significance of its contents unfathomable.

Claude protected his discovery for over fifty years until a little girl's birth unveiled the chamber's secrets and altered the course of human history.

Chapter 1

### The Kings

Life is a journey, not a destination. This was certainly true for Rebecca (Becky) King and her daughter Haley. Becky grew up on the Florida Ridge in Sebring, Florida. Her maiden name was Rebecca Miller and she married her childhood sweetheart Ben King. They both received PhDs in archaeology from Cornell in 1980. Then they traveled the world for three years studying ancient civilizations while mingling with rich and famous benefactors.

Starting a family was a sensitive subject. A childhood accident left Becky unable to conceive, so the couple devoted their lives entirely to work.

Everything changed on a mysterious archaeological dig in New Mexico when they found a baby girl abandoned in their motel room.

The child appeared to be an albino American Indian. A note was left which requested the Kings adopt and raise the girl as their own. Although initially intrigued by the incident, Ben and Becky thought it was a bad idea. Their careers allowed little time for parenthood and they had grown comfortable with a child-free lifestyle.

Even so, they had many unanswered questions. Why did someone leave a baby with us? Why this particular child? Who knew we were here?

None of it made sense, so the Kings turned the girl over to child services. A doctor examined her and was bewildered by his findings.

He said, "Frankly the baby is unlike anything I've seen. She isn't albino, but I can't explain her pale complexion or yellow eyes. She doesn't respond immediately to movement which could be an indication of visual impairment. I've never seen a more aesthetically beautiful child, but she faces the distinct possibility of health problems in the future."

Since the girls' eyes were very distinctive, officials were confident they could locate the birth parents but they were wrong. Her family wasn't found and the doctor's pessimistic medical diagnosis discouraged prospective parents.

Becky and Ben returned to New York, but didn't forget the little girl. They spent many nights dreaming of her, making repeated excuses to return to New Mexico for visits.

In the end, the little girl stole their hearts with an enchanting smile and an inescapable feeling that she belonged with them. She was the ultimate archaeological find: beautiful, mysterious, and full of endless possibilities.

When they asked to begin the adoption process, someone had already completed the paperwork in their name. Once initiated, representatives from child services were astounded at the ease and speed of the normally cumbersome adoption process. It was as if someone or something was manipulating events to make sure the girl went home with them. They named the child Haley.

Haley grew to be an unselfish youngster with a contagious positive attitude. Being near her felt like standing in sunshine on a cold winter day. She was pretty with golden blonde hair and flawless skin, like a little porcelain doll. Her eyes were luminous. They were phosphorescent yellow with little red specks, bright enough to startle people in the daylight.

At night her eyes glowed the way evil is sometimes depicted in science fiction movies. That strange appearance upset some people, but the real problem was that motion left her completely disorientated. She had no trouble at all in a stationary environment, but was often startled if you walked up unannounced. It took nearly five-seconds before she knew someone was there. Without treatment, she would never be able to function alone in a crowd, play sports, or drive a car.

Haley's condition remained a mystery despite regular visits to specialists. Some speculated it was an inner ear problem. Her Ophthalmologist warned that the condition could lead to total blindness if not diagnosed and treated, so Ben asked a prominent doctor at NYU for a consultation when Haley was ten years old.

Doctor John Wiley became fascinated with her eyes. Since there were no medical records before her adoption, doctors had previously assumed her eye condition was the result of a birth defect. They classified her legally blind because she couldn't track moving objects.

Dr. Wiley saw something very different. He concluded her thick iris and dense optic nerve were not defects but genetic enhancements. He became convinced that understanding her eyes would lead to major medical innovations.

His tests revealed that in a static environment her vision was extraordinary, virtually superhuman. She could see in almost complete darkness.

A slight pulse was detected from red specks in Haley's cornea which resulted in a corresponding pulse from her iris five seconds later. The doctor determined a process similar to echolocation in bats must be occurring.

He became obsessed with the study, but instead of seeing Haley as a child who needed help, Doctor Wiley saw her as his own personal ticket to fame. If the anatomical and physiological characteristics in her eyes could be quantified, it would almost certainly merit a Nobel Prize.

He gained noteworthy attention at first, but couldn't demonstrate how Haley's eyes worked. Without hard evidence the academic community began to ridicule him. Some even accused him of perpetrating a hoax.

Haley grew tired of the constant poking and prodding when her condition didn't improve. When Ben decided to end the association, the doctor became even more determined and began stalking her. It was a very stressful situation for the family ending with a restraining order.

One month after the unpleasant incident with Dr. Wiley, Ben started losing weight and suffered a host of baffling health issues. He assumed it was related to stress, but the family was devastated when tests indicated advanced pancreatic cancer.

Becky was determined to be strong during the holidays. She decorated the house, baked cookies, hosted parties, and somehow managed to keep the family in good spirits. Her efforts couldn't change the fact that cancer had already done irreversible damage. Ben was rushed to the hospital on Christmas Eve and died two days later.

Becky appeared indomitable, but underneath she was spiraling into depression. A harsh New York winter made her despair even worse. Her sister Camille pleaded with her to bring Haley to live in Gainesville, Florida. The offer didn't sound too farfetched because Ben wanted to move back to Florida before he got sick. He dreamed of opening a restaurant with Becky, but now the memories of their plans made her cry. She made a promise to herself to avoid making a rash decision, but agreed to take Haley for a vacation in February. They planned to spend time with Camille and visit the major tourist attractions. The year was 1995. Haley was eleven years old.

Chapter 2

### Bayport

The weather for the trip was ideal. Winter was still raging up North, but an early Florida spring provided an effective distraction from Becky's despair.

The vacation reinforced the bond between mother and daughter. Becky was enthralled with the glass bottom boats at Silver Springs. Haley could not stop recounting their trip to Disney World.

Two days before their scheduled trip home, Camille invited them to go on an excursion down the west coast of the peninsula. They got an early start and spent the morning at Homosassa Springs. Haley was mesmerized by the manatees.

They drove to Weeki Wachee Springs after a quick lunch to attend the mermaid show. Before heading to the sponge docks in Tarpon Springs, Camille insisted on a short side-trip west on Cortez Boulevard to view the Gulf of Mexico.

The landscape which began as sandy scrub soon changed to marshland with hundreds of meandering channels. Islands of pine dotted the horizon and the sun sparkled like diamonds on the gulf water in the distance.

As they approached the small community of Bayport, it appeared to rise from the marsh like the mystical city of Brigadoon. Giant moss-covered oak trees towered over antebellum homes nestled on the edge of the world.

Haley was the first to notice a large ornamental pink house set well back from the highway. There was an elegant carved sign at the entrance, "Rebecca's Dollhouse."

"Aunt Camille, look! It's Mom's dollhouse; may we please stop?"

"Maybe on the way back," Camille replied.

They drove another block to a public park and walked onto the pier overlooking the Gulf. A pod of dolphins was playing near shore. One of them swam toward them.

"That's Hercules," said a booming male voice. Becky was startled, instinctively pulling Haley close. She turned around to see a scruffy looking old man with a wide smile which revealed several missing teeth. He pointed to three other dolphins coming toward the pier. "Those over there are Aphrodite, Euripides and Cleopatra," he said with an air of authority.

Becky held Haley's hand tightly. "I'm sorry, but I don't let my little girl talk to strangers."

"I understand. I'm Renee," the old man said as he leaned forward while winking at Haley.

Becky pulled Haley closer and turned away from the man. "Let's go," Becky said curtly.

A woman with three young children was walking onto the pier as Becky, Camille and Haley were leaving.

"Watch your kids. There's a strange old man out there," Becky warned.

"Oh, you must mean Renee," the woman replied. "He's the sweetest man you'll ever meet. Everyone around here knows him. The kids adore him."

Becky was surprised. The woman must be referring to someone else, she thought. "Are you talking about that dirty vagrant?" She pointed to Renee.

"He's not a vagrant," the woman laughed. "He hangs around the pier telling stories and helping people. He works locally as a gardener, but I think he's actually a retired doctor."

As they walked away, Becky remembered how some people recoiled when they first saw Haley's eyes. It made her angry because she knew how it hurt Haley's feelings. Becky wondered if she had done the same thing to the old man.

Chapter 3

### Rebecca's Dollhouse

As they were leaving the park, Haley again asked Camille if she would stop at the pink house. Becky replied before Camille had a chance. "That's somebody's home. We can't just stop and stare."

Camille pointed to a "for sale by owner" sign as they approached. "It's for sale Becky, and it has your name on it. Maybe this is meant to be. I think we should take a look. Come on, it will be fun."

"Can we Mom, Please, Please?" Haley begged.

"O.K., we'll stop for a minute to look, but then we're going to Tarpon Springs."

They pulled into the long circular driveway past a large magnolia tree before stopping in front of the house.

A twenty-foot-wide stairway led to a wraparound porch that circled the entire building. The front and back decks were left open while the left side was screened. The right porch was completely enclosed by glass. The first floor was fifteen feet above the ground with heavy vegetation that made it appear as if the house was growing out of the trees. The second floor incorporated two grand turrets like a fairy tale castle. Above it stood a widow's walk.

"Isn't it beautiful Mom," squealed Haley.

"I've got to admit, it is an impressive house. The yard is immaculate and I love the porches."

"Hello, may I help you?" crooned a woman's voice from the front porch. A little startled, they turned to see a very dark skinned, short and stout elderly woman peeking from behind the front door.

She couldn't have been more than four feet tall. Her skin, eyes and hair were as black as midnight. Her voice was so melodious it tickled their ears.

"I'm Ms. Shelby," she said. "Are you the Kings?"

Becky was startled, but decided she must have misunderstood. The woman had no way of knowing them.

"Oh, we're very sorry to disturb you. Your home is so beautiful we couldn't resist stopping for a peek," Becky replied.

Ms. Shelby looked at Becky's sister. "You must be Camille. I hope the note was clear."

Becky glared at Camille. "What's going on?"

Camille looked rather sheepish as she pulled a formal looking envelope from her purse. "I received this last week. It is a letter asking me to bring you here for a personal showing of the house."

"That doesn't make sense," Becky countered. "How do they know who I am, that I would be in Florida, or that I'd be interested in buying a house?" Then she whispered to Camille, "This is creepy."

Ms. Shelby began explaining, "Though you may not know the owner of the home, he knows you and knew your husband. He's looking for a particular buyer. You are the only one who meets the qualifications. We asked Camille to invite you."

"Why me?" Becky asked, but she didn't wait for an answer. She glared at her sister.

"What were you thinking Camille?"

"I thought it would be fun," Camille answered. "I didn't think you'd come, so I decided to trick you. I'm sorry, but I'd do almost anything to have you and Haley here in Florida."

"Please Mom, please. Can we look?" Haley pleaded.

"Please Becky, please," Camille added with a laugh.

Ms. Shelby hopped into the sunlight as if someone had pinched her. "I'd be honored to show you the house."

"I don't know. We don't want to take up too much of your time, and we should get back on the road if we hope to make it to Tarpon Springs before sunset."

Becky could see the disappointment on Haley's face, so she reluctantly turned toward Ms. Shelby, "Are you sure?"

"It is no problem at all Rebecca," she responded with a wide smile. "I love showing off the place."

Even though she looked to be in her eighties, Ms. Shelby bounced down the front steps like a teenager. She led the three ladies on a tour of the ornate gardens, the boat dock on a canal with access to the Gulf, and the caretaker's cottage where the gardener lived.

Before taking them inside the home, Ms. Shelby explained that the house was anchored on sixteen concrete steel-reinforced piers, making it one of the most hurricane resilient structures built in 1975. She paused to offer a brief history of the property which was custom built for J. Alfred Weston, an ultra-wealthy businessman from Connecticut.

"'The' J. Alfred Weston?" Becky enquired.

"Yes," Ms. Shelby replied. "Is that a problem?"

Becky appeared surprised. "No, but I met him many years ago when we were working on an archaeological site here in Florida. Mr. Weston was a very intense man, aloof and unapproachable. I can't picture him living in a house like this."

"J. Alfred is anything but aloof and unapproachable," Ms. Shelby laughed. "I've known him since he was six years old when his father died. Even that horror couldn't defeat the rambunctious little boy who grew up to be a gregarious, handsome young man. Sadly, even more tragedy has taken a toll on him, but don't let his gruff exterior fool you. He is a wonderful man."

"What happened to him? What do you mean by tragedy?" Becky asked.

"A fairy tale that turned into a nightmare I'm afraid," Ms. Shelby answered. "J. Alfred fell in love with a woman named Angela who was a featured mermaid at the Weeki Wachee Springs attraction. This land belonged to Angela before she met J. Alfred. She lived in the caretaker's cottage which was the only building here at the time. The two of them were married after an intense romance. They moved to Connecticut, but kept the cottage as a winter retreat. Angela gave birth to a beautiful little girl named Rebecca who grew up visiting the cabin every year. The little girl often pleaded with J. Alfred to build a full-size version of her dollhouse so they could move to Bayport permanently. Then in 1973, Angela died of leukemia at their home in New Haven."

"Oh my god," Becky sighed. "I didn't know his wife had died."

"That wasn't the end of his misfortune," Ms. Shelby continued. "J. Alfred and Rebecca were both overcome with grief, but still made the trip to Florida the following winter. The warm sunshine lifted their spirits, so J. Alfred hired an architect to design this house as their permanent home. It is a replica of Rebecca's dollhouse. They made peace with Angela's death and lived here for five years."

"I probably don't want to know, but what happened next?" Becky asked.

"When she was seventeen, Rebecca also died of leukemia. She's buried in the back yard under her favorite oak tree. J. Alfred moved out and rarely returns except for occasional visits to her graveside, but he's kept the residence as it was when Rebecca lived here."

"Now I understand," Becky commented. "That wasn't long before I met him. He was probably still grief-stricken."

Ms. Shelby placed her hand on Haley's shoulder. "It would be a shame to let this wonderful house be remembered for misfortune. After all, the spirit of that precious little girl still lives here. He hasn't shared his reasons with me, but I don't think Mr. Weston intends to sell this house to anyone else. You must have made quite an impression because the sales contract has some very specific stipulations, including the buyer's first name."

Becky leaned toward Camille, "This is getting even creepier. There's a ghost in the house and a tombstone out back with my name on it." Then she turned back to Ms. Shelby.

"I don't mean to be unpleasant, but aren't there housing laws against discrimination toward home buyers?"

Becky took Haley's hand as she prepared to leave, "Regardless, I'm afraid we're wasting your time Ms. Shelby. Even if we were interested, there's no way I can afford a house like this."

"You'll be pleasantly surprised by the price," Ms. Shelby replied. "Regarding the specific conditions of sale, Mr. Weston's lawyers made sure everything is legal. The offer is very generous. One woman even changed her name to Rebecca, but the lawyers disqualified her. Mr. Weston believes you and Haley are the perfect match for this home, and he is seldom wrong. Most people don't get a chance like this, so please come with me inside."

Becky was skeptical but felt outnumbered. "I guess there's no harm in looking" she said reluctantly.

She, Camille, and Haley followed Ms. Shelby through the front door. They stood speechless, viewing the magnificent panorama. A hand-carved wooden staircase framed the east side of the enormous room. Maybe it was the intoxicating fragrance of the flowers, but Becky felt a pleasant floating sensation.

A forty-foot-long window bathed the space in sunlight, while two stunning chandeliers hung from a twelve-foot ceiling. Luxurious rugs, museum quality paintings, and antique furnishings were meticulously placed throughout.

Everything in the house was distinctive, from the dishes to the linens to the art on the walls. There were six bedrooms, four bathrooms, and two well equipped kitchens.

As impressive as it was, their favorite part of the house was the widow's walk, a small deck on the roof with an unobstructed view of the Gulf.

"Ms. Shelby, I don't know that I've ever seen a more beautiful home. It is like a fairy tale," Becky said.

Ms. Shelby could sense Becky's softening attitude.

"This was a wonderful family home. J. Alfred believes you and Haley can bring it back to life. Please say you'll give it a chance by spending the night. I'll explain details of the proposed sale over supper."

Becky started to decline with a shake of her head, but before she could say a word Haley and Camille were both begging to stay. Alarm bells were going off in Becky's mind.

This is too good to be true. There must be a catch or the house is haunted. How does Mr. Weston know so much about us? Am I getting caught up in the moment, acting irrationally?

Despite her fears, Becky recognized the opportunity. It was an adventure and despite having just met her, she trusted Ms. Shelby.

Becky took a deep breath, smiled, and said, "We would love to stay."

Chapter 4

### A New Beginning

Becky, Haley and Camille spent the rest of the day exploring the house and grounds. Haley found a concealed stairway in one of the turrets, a secret room in the other. Camille who was an accomplished rosarian located several rare cultivars in the garden. Becky discovered her name carved into an ancient oak tree near the dock. When she went to help Ms. Shelby prepare supper that evening, Becky noticed the kitchen appliances were new.

"Didn't you say Mr. Weston kept the house the way it was when his daughter lived here?"

"It is for the most part, but J. Alfred wouldn't expect you to live in a museum," Ms. Shelby answered. "He installed a new roof, bought modern appliances, replaced the heating and air conditioning, added energy efficient windows, upgraded electric, and installed new plumbing fixtures. The house looks the same as it did in 1975, but a complete functional update has been completed."

Becky shook her head and sighed, "all the more reason I can't afford this place."

Supper was served at the kitchen table which provided a clear view of the boat dock. The pretty little caretaker's cottage was also visible. Becky found herself wondering what it must have looked like when Mr. Weston married Angela.

The ladies sat down to a traditional southern meal of country fried steak, turnip greens, mashed potatoes and fried okra. After clearing the table, they talked for another hour before Ms. Shelby showed them the contract. It was a complicated document that didn't look anything like a real estate contract.

In fact, it was an employment agreement defining the process necessary to acquire the home. Ms. Shelby told Becky to take the document to any lawyer in Hernando County for review.

"All legal fees will be paid with funds set aside by Mr. Weston." Then she explained the basics of the agreement.

"You'll be paid a generous salary for living in the house. Your wages will come out of a trust fund and will be held in an escrow account until sufficient to cover the appraised value of the home. The time estimated is twenty years, but that depends on the real estate market."

"So you're saying I can live in the house for free, but I can't sell it? Will I have to refund the money to Mr. Weston if we decide to move?" Becky asked.

"No, you can walk away without penalty at any time. The best part is that if you stay here for at least a year, you'll be entitled to any salary accumulated in the escrow account."

"It sounds too good to be true. What's the catch? Becky asked.

"There are a few minor conditions," Ms. Shelby continued. "You may not sell, give away, or dispose of any of the original furnishings for a period of one year from the date of closing."

"I didn't realize it came furnished. That's wonderful! Anything else?" Becky asked.

For the first time in the conversation, Ms. Shelby sounded cautious.

"There is one additional stipulation. Dr. Richard R. Rogers has a rent free lease on the caretaker cottage for as long as he wishes or the remainder of his life, whichever comes first."

"Who is Dr. Rogers," Becky asked.

"A gentle soul," Ms. Shelby assured her. "Until seven years ago he was a happily married family man and a respected professor at Yale University in New Haven, Connecticut. That was until a drunk driver crossed into oncoming traffic, killing his wife and daughter.

He quit his job, defaulted on his house and ended up destitute. Mr. Weston became aware of him when he showed up at a Weston Foundation homeless shelter. I think Mr. Weston understands Richard better than anyone because they suffered similar tragedies. They're kindred spirits of a sort. Dr. Rogers agreed to move to Florida and live in the caretaker cottage under the condition he be allowed to earn his keep."

"Where is he now?" Becky asked.

"He's in the cottage." Ms. Shelby replied. "I took some food to him while you were setting the table. I swear that man would starve to death if I didn't feed him. He's the hardest worker I've ever seen. The work he does around here is worth much more than his room and board. When he isn't busy he likes to help folks down at the pier."

Becky remembered the old man on the pier. "Does he ever use the name Renee?" she asked.

"Well yes, that's his middle name. He started going by Renee after the accident. He doesn't like to be called Dr. Rogers because it reminds him of the family he lost."

Becky confessed, "I'm afraid I made a terrible first impression. We saw him on the pier today. He tried to be friendly, but my maternal instincts took control and I was less than pleasant."

"Don't worry. He's an odd bird and he knows it. Everyone is a little wary of him at first, but they soon learn to love him. He looks tough, but I think he's a lot more fragile than people realize."

After dinner Becky decided to follow her heart. This was a dream come true and a desirable distraction after her husband's death.

She took the contract to two different lawyers for review the next day. They both confirmed it was the equivalent of winning the lottery. It was the most impulsive thing she had ever done, but Becky signed the papers.

The whole transaction took less than a week. It seemed like someone was looking out for them, as it did when Haley was left in the motel room and her adoption paperwork was mysteriously completed.

Becky and Haley packed their belongings and moved to the house in Bayport, Florida.

They decided to use the long glass-enclosed porch as a seating area for a "breakfast-only" restaurant, and Haley quickly made friends with some of the customer's children.

Ms. Shelby agreed to help with the new business while continuing to live in the house. In honor of Mrs. King's late husband, the restaurant sign read "Benjamin's Breakfast," but most people called it Becky's.

Chapter 5

### The Birthday

The first five children Haley met at her new home were boys who shared a common birthdate. They didn't know at the time, but it was also Haley's birthday.

On September 11, 1999, Daniel Naidoo and his four best friends were beginning a celebration. They dove into the cool waters of the Weeki Wachee River at 5:03 a.m. to mark sixteen years since they entered the world. Then they climbed aboard the Naidoo family boat for the annual birthday fishing trip. The early swim had drained their energy which allowed them to enjoy a peaceful boat ride to the Gulf.

The sunrise painted an eerie orange glow against a black sky while mist blanketed the river in a thick gray fog. The boat's large motor purred like a docile kitten as the wake lapped gently against ancient Cypress trees. A heron flew in front patrolling for fish. Turtles slipped silently from their log perches and mullet performed a surreal ballet, jumping into the air as they approached.

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Sixteen years ago, Dan's friends (Chris, Steve, Brian, and Matt) entered the world simultaneously in a tiny medical clinic 55 miles northeast of the river. Their births were highly unusual. Dr. George Davis loved to tell the story:

" _The day of the boys' birth didn't start well for my wife Rachel and me. President Reagan had already designated it as a National Day of Mourning in tribute to the slain passengers of Korean Airlines Flight 007. Rainy weather added an ominous feeling of impending doom._

Rachel is also a doctor. The two of us operate the local medical clinic. Within a period of five minutes, we were abruptly awakened by three frantic phone calls from the husbands of women in labor. I managed to contact every nurse on our call list to ask for help, but not one was available.

The deliveries couldn't be performed by a single doctor, so Rachel volunteered even though she was also pregnant and her baby had dropped. That meant the situation could become even worse if she went into labor. Rachel would become a fourth patient instead of the second physician.

We arrived at the clinic and worked frantically to set up birthing stations. The process appeared to be going well, but then all hell broke loose along with Rachel's water. The primal screams of four women in labor sounded like the end of the world. Then I blacked out along with everyone else. None of us remember what happened until the miraculous moment of birth.

_The clinic was silent as four baby boys slid out unassisted. It looked like they were being ejected from a copy machine. The phenomenon was strange but beautiful, the most incredible thing I ever witnessed._ "

Daniel was also born at the exact same time as the other four boys, but at home in accordance with his parents' South African tradition. That brought the total births to five, the most ever recorded on a single day in their hometown of Wildwood, Florida.

Stories recounting the boys' birthday grew more outrageous each year. People said the sky turned dark with ominous clouds shimmering with bolts of wicked lightning. Some even said the simultaneous arrivals were miracles from God.

Even though Dan wasn't born in the clinic with the others, his birth at the exact same moment was also considered a miracle. Until today he thought the endless tales of peculiar phenomena and bizarre storms were mere exaggerations, but the events they would experience this morning would change his mind.

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As the boys continued their fishing trip, the river widened. Giant Cypress trees gave way to grassy marshlands. They could see the Gulf of Mexico and Bayport pier illuminated by the sun's red reflection off low-hanging clouds.

Streaks of lightning flashed like delicate fireworks on the distant horizon. The dull rumble of thunder reminded Dan of something his Dad often said, "Red sky at night sailor's delight; red sky at morning sailor take warning." But this was their birthday. It had become a treasured tradition, so a little bad weather wasn't going to stop them.

An old hippie pulling in crab traps from the pier waived as they passed. His hair was long and stringy, his feet were bare, and his clothes looked like an old bath robe. The only thing missing was a sign, "The end is near."

Dan steered the boat to the left a few hundred yards beyond the pier before the last channel marker. He disengaged the outboard, started the little trolling motor and skimmed silently over the shallow flats.

A few large jagged rocks passed inches below the surface as Chris grabbed a gig pole and began pointing the way. They cruised over the clear sandy flats for less than three minutes before Chris thrust the long spear into the water.

"I got it," he shouted! "It's a big one, get a net."

Steve grabbed a fish net and rushed to the front of the boat. In a few seconds a large flounder was thrashing on the deck. Brian held it down while Chris dislodged the gig.

"Way to go Chris, you've crucified another one," Matt laughed.

"That's not cool," Chris responded with a disapproving tone. Chris didn't approve of jokes which made light of his faith.

The sun had risen above the shoreline as they relaxed in the warmth while fixated on a peculiar shaped storm cloud to the west. "Is it me or does that cloud look like Etz Chayim?" Chris asked.

Chris spoke Hebrew, but his pronunciations often sounded like a bad cough.

"Did you ask a question or were you getting ready to spit?" Steve asked. He hated it when Chris spoke Hebrew. It made him feel inadequate.

"The Tree of Life, Etz Chayim is the Hebrew name for the Tree of Life," Chris said with a smirk. "I assumed everyone knew."

Steve was visibly irritated. Pretentious twerp, he thought.

"We know you speak Hebrew preacher man. You are just showing off. Why not say it is shaped like a tree?"

Now Chris was getting irritated. "I am speaking figuratively," he snarled.

Brian tried to ease the tension with a joke. "It's a heavenly buoy marker pointing the way to the promised fishing hole."

"Very funny," Chris said. "I'm trying to be serious. That's no ordinary cloud. What does it look like to you Dan?"

Dan couldn't pronounce any of the Hebrew words Chris used. Most of it sounded like gibberish, so he decided to make a joke of his own.

"I agree with you Chris, it definitely looks like a Ritz Cracker." Brian and Matt laughed, but then they were blinded by an intense flash of lightning.

BOOM!

From Dan's perspective, the world was moving in slow motion. The loud clasp of thunder was followed by silence. Chris, Steve, Matt, and Brian were tossed through the air in different directions. Each landed face down in the water and lay motionless. The light slowly faded as Dan lost consciousness.

When he awoke, the sky was a brilliant shade of blue. Everything looked different. He was no longer on the boat, but lying on a soft grassy area surrounded by people.

"Sir, are you O.K?" A girl asked with a worried expression. As Dan struggled to stand, two young men rushed over and lifted him. They resembled models from a fitness magazine: flawless skin, glistening hair, perfect teeth.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he insisted. "My foot slipped when I reached to pull an apple from the tree."

An expression of shock and disbelief filled their faces. Three of them said in unison, "You aren't supposed to pick the apples."

Dan's sixteenth birthday was a vague memory. He was 93 years old, wearing his favorite rumpled tweed coat and bright red bow-tie. His mind was filled with a lifetime of experiences. He felt at home.

A crowd of energetic young students in T-shirts and jeans had gathered and were watching the funny old man. "Is that Him?" Dan heard one of them ask.

He paused for a moment and gazed up at the apple trees adorning the north portico to the University of Georgia campus. The towering branches stretched thirty feet and formed a perfectly sculptured canopy. Each tree was loaded with flawless apples, and underneath was a flashing holographic plaque which read:

THE UNIVERSITY OF GEORGIA, GRADY COLLEGE

IS PLEASED TO PRESENT

DR DANIEL NAIDOO

"THE FOUR PILLARS OF THE GREAT COELESCENCE"

UGA was the last remaining major college in the country. Education had changed a lot in seventy-seven years, but the brick and mortar school was a tradition the South was slow to surrender.

Dr. Daniel Naidoo stood quietly relishing the moment. He was scheduled to present a much anticipated speech to one of the largest live audiences assembled in years. His friends had changed the world for the better and he could say with pride, "I was part of it!"

His friend Chris helped enact the Treaty of Religious Acceptance. Steve designed and implemented the Code of Acceptable Practices in Human Genetic Modification. Matt introduced the Sustainable Resource-Based Economic System, and Brian coordinated the Code of Internationally Accepted Standards for Environmental Conservation.

Those accomplishments were known as the Four Pillars of the Great Coalescence. They created a utopian world unimaginable to a sixteen-year-old on his birthday in 1999.

The date was September 11, 2076. Instead of the climate change and polluted environment predicted at the turn of the century, the air was crisp, clear, and fresh. The first hint of fall had arrived in Athens, Georgia. The streets were pristine with silent automated vehicles delivering supplies. Spotless outdoor cafes were bustling with students discussing issues of the day. Incidents of crime were rare, life expectancy had doubled, and common living standards were higher than anything predicted at the end of the Twentieth Century.

Dan had less than thirty minutes before his lecture was scheduled on the far side of the school, so he quickly leapt into the air once again to grab the most beautiful apple within reach. He slipped it into his coat pocket and shuffled onto campus.

At least a dozen students watched in horror as he robbed the tree of a single fruit. This was a place where breaking rules was as rare as printed newspapers.

At precisely 8:50 a.m., Dan arrived at the back door of Chambliss Hall where his speech was scheduled for 9 a.m. He went backstage and peeked through the curtain. Every seat in the enormous auditorium was filled.

His meticulously trimmed gray mustache, long white hair standing on end as if energized by electric shock, tiny antique wire-rim glasses, and large red bow-tie demanded attention if not respect.

There was a reverent silence as he walked to the center of the stage, pulled out an old laser pointer, raised it slowly before taking a long dramatic pause.

The audience rose to their feet and began applauding. The ovation continued for five minutes as he gestured half-heartedly for everyone to sit down. When they were seated he looked at the pointer and said, "Note to self, always begin speech with a laser pointer." The crowd laughed and Dan began with his favorite joke:

\--------------------------------------

"The theory of human evolution is a lot like a tree full of naked monkeys. Your opinion of mankind depends upon where you're standing."

He directed the laser to a large projected diagram showing a tree with a caveman at the bottom and modern man at the top.

"A prehistoric man would be located near the base of the tree with a view of modern man in the higher regions."

Dan looked up at the projection as if he were viewing modern man from the cave man's position.

"Like a tree full of naked monkeys, the only thing you can see from down here is," he turned to the audience and shouted, "a bunch of assholes!"

\--------------------------------------

The audience laughed again. Dan waited until the auditorium was silent. He didn't continue until they began to fidget with anticipation.

"Picture a world where religious conflicts are settled by cutting off people's heads. Imagine an inefficient economy based entirely on unsustainable growth, and the power needed for daily life pollutes the air we breathe and poisons the water we drink. Envision a society where at least one in ten people are sociopaths and half as many are psychopaths. That my friends would be a world of unavoidable conflict, and that was our world less than a century ago."

He stepped to the front of the stage for theatrical effect.

"What we have done is eliminate many of the obstacles which made worldwide civil unification impossible. In a period of a few decades we have established a common religion, genetically enhanced our minds and bodies, formed a more efficient system of government and improved the health of the planet. We are witnessing nothing less than the coalescence of man! **If there is a God, this must surely be what he intended**."

At that exact moment, a dull pain shot through Dan's chest. His heart stopped beating and darkness engulfed him. He was floating on a soft cloud and heard a child's voice singing a haunting nursery rhyme --

"We are all God's children - he allows us to play - but he calls us home safely - at the end of the day."

Chapter 6

### Etz Chayim

Dan's ears were ringing, skin and eyes burning. He awoke and realized he never left the boat. A basketball-sized hole in the vinyl top was still smoldering. What a strange dream. It felt so real, he thought and then he remembered, my friends!

He jumped up and grabbed a long gaff hook to reach the others. Brian was closest to the side gate so he started with him. The boat had a two-foot high aluminum rail bolted to the deck. The only way to get them back onboard was through that gate. It was still a twenty-inch lift from the water and took him over five agonizing minutes to rescue Brian.

Brian wasn't breathing and needed CPR, but Dan decided to recover the others first. Lifting them out of the water was an exhausting struggle, but he managed to pull all four bodies back on deck. He tried reviving each of them, but they didn't respond.

Every muscle in his body ached and tears of pain and grief ran down his face.

"Let me help," a loud voice shouted breathlessly. Dan was startled by the figure of a man standing in the shallow water beside the boat. It was the old hippie from the pier. Dan was happy to see him but confused."

"Where did you come from?"

"I was on the pier," the man replied.

"I know, but how did you get here?"

The old man saw the bodies on deck and climbed aboard as he spoke. "I swam in a couple places but waded most of the way. It wasn't deep. We thought you were dead when the lightning hit the boat. From the pier it looked like an explosion with large pieces tossed into the air."

"Those were my friends!"

"I can see that now," the man said. A quizzical expression flashed across his face as he began to examine the bodies. "You want me to do what?" he asked, but wasn't talking to Dan. Then he turned and said, "It looks like your companions have been electrocuted."

Dan whimpered like a child, "You are too late; I tried CPR."

"I saw you, but your friends aren't sleeping beauties. They need more than a kiss to wake them," the old man said as he laughed.

"What?" Dan said as his face turned red. "That's not funny! My friends may be dead and you're making jokes?"

The old man's expression softened and he spoke in a very reassuring tone. "Their journey isn't over. I can still revive them."

The hippie's appearance did little to merit Dan's confidence, but something in his voice was comforting. That was until he lifted Chris into a sitting position, slapped him hard on the back and shouted "wake up!" The whole process looked so silly that Dan figured if the old man wasn't crazy he must be drunk."

Chris was sitting up within a few seconds as if nothing had happened. The old hippie did the same to Steve, Matt, and then Brian. They looked uninjured except for a small identical burn on each of their left heels.

In fact they acted better than O.K., they were (no pun intended) energized. The burn on their heel looked like the tattoo of a leafless tree.

"What's the mark on their feet?" Dan asked.

"Etz Chayim," the hippie answered.

"What?" Dan stammered. It was the same words Chris used when he described the cloud.

The old hippie answered. "That's what I call it, but technically it is known as a Lichtenberg figure. It's a common pattern left by an electrical burn. I don't think it's serious, simply a mark caused by the lightning. It does seem strange that all four boys have it in the exact same location, but it should fade away in a couple hours.

"Hey Chris, the designs on our feet look a lot like the cloud," Matt said without a hint of surprise. Brian said to Steve, "Look, we have the same tattoo."

Dan's friends were taking the whole incident in stride as if nothing unusual had happened. They were discussing their matching burn marks with the old hippie in a very unemotional manner. They didn't even bother to ask how the old man got on the boat.

Even the man's name sounded suspicious to Dan. He said it was Renee which means rebirth in French. Dan watched in disbelief as Renee laughed and joked with his friends who only a few minutes earlier appeared to be dead. He got another shock when they asked to continue on the fishing trip.

"No way," he said! His head was pounding, eyes burning and ears still ringing. Maybe the near near-death experience invigorated his friends, but Dan couldn't get the image of their unconscious bodies out of his mind.

He knew the responsible thing to do was go home and get checked by a doctor, but Renee and his new buddies were insisting on an afternoon of fishing. Dan should have ignored them, but he was too tired to argue.

They hoisted the anchor and headed out to their usual fishing spot, a rock pile about five miles off shore. Quite a few fish were caught, and Dan had a pleasant afternoon despite his headache. Renee became a good friend by the time they dropped him off at the pier.

Dan was still shaken by the near death of his friends so Renee shouted words of encouragement as they pulled away.

\-------------------------------------------------

"Life is a journey, not a destination." Then he added, "Live valiantly my friends, but always remember this is not your true home."

\-------------------------------------------------

As they waved goodbye, Dan wondered if there was profound wisdom in the old man's words. He gave it some thought and then said to the others, "that's one crazy old man!"

Dan was exhausted after what felt like an endless day. His friends had dragged him out of bed in the dark for a cold morning swim. The boat was struck by lightning sending him into some trance-like dream. His buddies were almost killed and then saved by an old hippie whose perfectly timed appearance was nothing short of a miracle. It had been simultaneously disturbing and invigorating.

Dan kept thinking about his friends and that kept him awake most of the night. Chris was a religious prodigy. Steve was a scientific genius. Brian's family practically invented environmentalism, and Matt talked to dead Indians – that is a topic for later.

Dan didn't feel extraordinary like his friends, and today's accident reinforced his belief they were different. On the other hand, Dan did experience something quite unusual. He had a lucid dream which was more than a dream. He had no idea what it meant, but was convinced some supernatural force had intervened.

Chapter 7

### Preacher Man

Less than two years had passed since lightning struck the boat. The boys were high school graduates with one final summer to enjoy before leaving for college. Christopher Hagen and Daniel Naidoo planned to make the most of it by staying at their family cabins on the Weeki Wachee River. Chris wanted to be close to his girlfriend Haley King. Dan loved being on the water and intended to spend more time with Chris who was his closest friend.

At six-foot-six, Chris stood a foot taller than Dan. Disheveled sandy blond hair belied an intense personality. His smooth dark caramel skin was the lucky result of a pasty Irishman marrying a Jamaican model. Chris's girlfriend described his stomach as "Ripples left by waves on a beach." He was the teacher's pet, quarterback of the football team, and the most popular boy in school.

Dan was small but athletic. He won many events in track and was the starting halfback for the football team. They called him "Atom Ant." He was also an excellent student with only four classmates finishing higher in their graduating class: Chris, Steve, Matt, and Brian.

Dan felt a slight resentment toward his friends in the beginning. He thought of them as members of an exclusive group of white families who ran the town. It appeared as if they had all the advantages.

It didn't come as easily for Dan's family. His mother and father had nothing when they arrived from South Africa in search of a better life. His father worked long hours as a licensed electrician and his mother kept the books for a local car dealership. She died when Dan was eight, but Chris, Steve, Matt, and Brian's families were there to support Dan and his father.

Chris was leader of the group. Whether playing football, winning school debates or catching fish, he provided the motivation. He knew how to get things done by inspiring the team with a clear vision of success, but he faced challenges of his own.

His parents were an oddity in the small town. His father, Shawn, was a huge man with a high-pitched voice. It was hard to avoid giggling when he spoke because he looked like Shrek, but sounded like the Lucky Charms Leprechaun. His mother, Sanya was a tall slender woman with smooth ebony skin. While Chris' father was introverted, Sanya was as flamboyant as a cabaret dancer. To the neighbors' dismay she painted their house purple and displayed pink plastic flamingos on the front lawn.

Whenever Dan felt intimidated by Chris's popularity, he remembered Chris's parents were also immigrants, and Chris had the extra burden of being mixed race. In one sense it made Chris seem more like a regular guy, but Dan realized there was nothing ordinary about him.

Chris and Dan met several mornings each week that summer to go crabbing. They were fully equipped with masks, snorkels, swim fins, mesh dive bags and hand nets. The spectacle looked like an advertisement for a sporting goods store.

They jumped off the seawall in front of Dan's house to begin a mile-long swim. The river bottom was a shadowy alien world of eel grass, witch's hair algae, rocks, logs, and large patches of white sand cleared by the current.

Small fish darted in and out of their hiding places. Schools of mullet sped past, eels peeked from behind rocks, and an occasional curious manatee swam close to check them out.

When one of the boys spotted a mature blue crab he would dive to catch it in the hand net. If Dan saw it first he would silently swoop in for the capture. Chris wasn't as sneaky. He would get excited and shout "Crab!" Then the race was on. It didn't seem to matter who spotted it first; Chris usually caught more.

The turn-around point was Rogers Park which was a popular recreational spot with a beach, boat ramp, and picnic area. It was packed with skimpily clothed teenagers playing loud music on weekends.

The covered picnic tables were vacant early in the morning when Chris and Dan arrived. They would sit and rest while talking. Chris told Dan things about his faith that he couldn't share with anyone else. Dan enjoyed listening. No sermon ever delivered in church was as thoughtful or genuine.

The church played a central role for most kids growing up in Wildwood. That was especially true of Chris. The Baptist pastor said Chris was "born again without ever being lost in the first place."

His mother, Sanya, claimed the first word to come out of Chris's mouth was Jesus. He knew the scriptures better than most preachers. His life was a walking testimony which earned him the nickname of preacher man. Still Chris rarely discussed his beliefs with anyone other than Dan. He set aside time daily to pray and managed to remain humble despite his virtuous lifestyle, superior intellect, and popularity.

None of the other boys gave any indication they believed the lightning strike on their birthday was anything more than a freak accident. That was despite the Lichtenberg figure on their feet being more prominent than ever. Whenever Dan mentioned the incident, people said he was merely trying to make sense of a near-death experience. Then on a clear morning in April 2001, Chris admitted he was still haunted by the event.

Chapter 8

### The Dream

It was the first time Chris swam all the way to Rogers Park without catching a crab. Dan could tell something was bothering him, so he led Chris to an isolated picnic table.

"You're very quiet today Chris. Are you O.K.?" Dan asked.

"I've been accepted to Duke University," Chris answered.

"That's great! Their Department of Religious Studies is one of the best in the country so what's wrong?"

"It's Haley. She thinks I'm going to the University of Florida. Her aunt Camille has a house in Gainesville and invited her to move there while I'm in school. Haley is already making plans."

"So why don't you rent an apartment for her in Durham?" Dan asked. "You have more than enough money with the inheritance from your aunt Leslie."

\--------------------------------------------

Ms. Leslie Connor wasn't a relative. She was Chris's godmother. With no family or children of her own, Ms. Conner treated Chris like her own son. When she died in 1996, her entire estate of nearly one-half million dollars was left in a trust to Chris.

\--------------------------------------------

"Durham is too far. I could drive Haley home from Gainesville several times a week, but the distance to North Carolina would make it hard on both Haley and her mom. Besides, it would look bad to rent an apartment for my girlfriend while I am majoring in Religious Studies."

Dan could see Chris was getting tense so he decided to move the conversation along. "What made you decide on Duke?"

Chris looked down, shaking his head as if he couldn't answer. "It's hard to explain, just something I have to do."

"Come on," Dan said. "You're talking to me. If you can't tell your best friend, who can you tell?"

Chris took a deep breath. "I've been having mind-blowing dreams. I'm not taking drugs, sniffing paint fumes or anything like that, and doctors have ruled out brain tumor."

"Man, I'm sorry Chris. I didn't know, but what does any of this have to do with where you attend college?"

Chris mumbled, "I believe my dreams are messages from God."

Dan wanted to be supportive, but sat motionless with a blank expression. The only thing he could say was, "Ooooookay."

Chris continued, "The dreams started after I was struck by lightning. They feel more real than when I'm awake."

The fact that his dreams started with the lightning strike grabbed Dan's attention. At last, he thought, somebody else thinks the lightning was more than a freak electrical storm. Dan's voice went up a full octave, "I had a dream like that on the boat!"

"Why didn't you say anything?" Chris asked.

"I tried, but everyone said it was just my imagination."

Chris shrugged, conceding he was one of those who tried to downplay the significance of the accident.

"What did you see?" he asked.

"I was an old man," Dan said, laughing. "I was giving a speech at a big college. You, Steve, Matt, and Brian were famous for creating something called the Four Pillars of the Great Coalescence. Your contribution was called the Treaty of Religious Acceptance."

Chris's face turned pale. "That's impossible! I dreamed the Treaty of Religious Acceptance was the subject of my doctoral dissertation in college."

"It sounds as if we shared the same dream, but that was the only time it happened to me," Dan said as he recalled his dream. "Maybe it was because I died at the end." Dan's eyes widened, "I sure hope it was a dream. What else did you see?"

Chris' voice became more subdued. "I have the dreams several times a week. They all start with Haley getting upset because I've decided to attend Duke. That must be significant. Then I'm at school with you, Matt, Brian, Steve and Haley."

"Wait a minute," Dan cut in, "That doesn't make sense. How can we be together in school when we're enrolled at different colleges?"

(Steve was the only other person enrolled at Duke. Matt and Dan were going to Florida, Brian to NC State, and Haley hadn't applied.)

"Are you saying we are there on a visit?" Dan asked.

"No, I'm saying we are all going to attend the same school, and it gets even weirder. I've seen myself as part of a movement which will unite the world's religions. I know it sounds ridiculous and goes against my beliefs. I couldn't begin to explain how it's possible, but I have no doubt it will happen. I'm going to be part of it."

"You know what's even stranger than that Chris?" Then Dan answered his own question.

"I believe you."

Chapter 9

### Haley's Eyes

One week after Chris received his acceptance letter to Duke, Dan and his father were going to Becky's for breakfast. As they were leaving the cabin, Mr. Naidoo saw Chris hosing off his canoe. He suggested Dan invite him to join them.

Dan called to Chris to ask if he wanted to go. Chris didn't say a word, simply dropped the hose, turned off the faucet, and was in the back seat within seconds.

"Guess that was a yes," Dan said. "You must be hungry."

"I already ate," Chris replied with little expression. "I want to talk to Haley about school."

They drove to the restaurant and parked the car in a small grassy area. Dan saw Renee working in the garden. Haley had described him many times as the scruffy but lovable man who "fixed things." She referred to him as Dr. Rogers, so Dan hadn't realized the caretaker was their hippie friend from the pier.

Mr. Naidoo and the boys were greeted at the door by Becky. She escorted them through the meticulously decorated living room filled with antique furniture. The room vibrated with the echo of their shoes on hardwood floors and the melodious chimes of an antique Westminster clock. Ancient oak trees cast a gentle shade over the long rustic tables, each positioned near the windows to offer a clear view of the garden.

The interior of the restaurant appeared as if a charming English cottage had fallen through the Earth and rematerialized in the old south. The establishment's appearance wasn't Mr. Naidoo's main interest. Becky's warmth and familiarity provided a sense of belonging that was missing after the death of his wife.

Becky took the order while Chris went into the kitchen to talk to Haley. Dan couldn't hear the conversation, but could tell it was very animated. Becky joined Dan and his father at the table a few minutes later. She looked at Mr. Naidoo, took a deep breath and began speaking.

"Tell me Ernie, what are you going to do with yourself when Daniel leaves for college?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Haley seems determined to follow Chris. I know they'll be only a short distance away in Gainesville, but she's my baby and my best friend since Ben died."

Becky glared at Dan with a stern expression, "Do not tell Haley!" Then she looked back at Mr. Naidoo, "I'm scared."

Without ever looking away from her, Mr. Naidoo reached across the table, held her hand tightly and said two words, "Me too." A slight smile flashed across Becky's face as tears welled in her eyes. She stood up, dabbed her cheeks with a tissue, and headed back to the kitchen.

It had been nearly eight years since Dan's mother died. He and his Dad had become nearly inseparable. What would his father do when he left home? This morning's encounter comforted him as he considered the possibility that his father and Becky might be sharing more than breakfast.

Chris reemerged from the kitchen and fell into his chair like a man who had finished a marathon. It was obvious Haley hadn't taken the news well. Dan recalled the dream Chris shared with him. The part about Haley getting upset had come true.

Haley was a devout Christian who found meaning in everything. In her mind, nothing happened that wasn't part of God's plan. She felt God had intervened from the moment she saw Rebecca's Dollhouse. The improbable events that followed made her even more certain.

Then Haley met Chris who seemed like a gift from heaven. He was a handsome, devout Christian who instantly fell in love with her when no boy had ever shown an interest. To Haley, Chris was literally a gift from God.

Four years earlier, Ms. Shelby told Becky that Renee was an eye doctor. Haley had assumed Renee was a regular physician, addressing him as Dr. Rogers out of respect. When she learned a week ago that he was an ophthalmologist from Yale University, Haley's mind starting turning. What are the odds that Dr. Rogers and I would wind up together? She concluded it was more than a coincidence.

Even though her current ophthalmologist was the most respected in Hernando County, she told Chris, "I may be legally blind, but even I can see that this is part of God's plan. Dr. Rogers and I were brought together for a reason. I can't leave now!"

The problem was that Chris was equally convinced God wanted him to attend college in North Carolina.

Haley was a meticulous records keeper. She had gathered multiple copies of every prescription, every report, every study done, and every paper written regarding her eyes since her adoption.

Even though Renee made it clear he no longer had a medical license, Haley begged him to read the comprehensive file she had prepared. He agreed after weeks of persistent appeals, but "only if you stop calling me Dr. Rogers. Please call me Renee!"

Renee began reviewing Haley's file. What he read was hard to accept. He expected to find nutritional deficiencies or physical abnormalities, but instead found her eyes were healthy.

Her vision tests ranked above the top one percent. What the doctors hadn't been able to understand was why it took her five seconds to see what other people see in an instant.

Renee assumed Haley wore sunglasses to hide her yellow eyes, but began to wonder if they might also be therapeutic. He spoke to her in the garden the following day.

"Good morning Haley. Those are pretty sunglasses. Do they help you see?"

"Sort-of," she said. "I know it sounds strange, but dark sunglasses make me feel less confused. My ophthalmologist said sunglasses shouldn't make any difference, but it won't hurt if I like wearing them."

Since standard tests had shown Haley's vision was exceptional, her current ophthalmologist was certain the problem was in her brain. She began working with a surgeon at the University of Florida. He agreed to perform an exploratory operation on the dorsal stream, which is the part of the visual cortex associated with motion. Becky had postponed the surgery on the advice of an old friend, but the ophthalmologist was determined to get the procedure rescheduled as soon as possible.

Renee's reaction was even stronger than Becky's. The thought of surgery made him sick. He was beginning to think Haley's new doctor was no better than the stalker from NYU. It seemed the new doctor was more interested in satisfying her scientific curiosity than doing what was best for Haley.

Haley's iris was twice as thick and her retina ten times denser than a typical eye. The small red flecks in her iris appeared to be receptors that no other human on Earth possessed. Her eyes were gathering vastly more information than the typical human eye.

We don't need to improve her vision, Renee thought. We need to restrict it! If we can screen out certain wavelengths of light like a pair of sunglasses, we may be able to speed up her reaction time.

Chapter 10

### Old Friends

Renee picked up the phone to contact someone from his former life for the first time since his wife and daughter were killed. Yale University professor Robert Morrison was excited to hear the voice of his old friend.

"Hello, Bob. This is Richard Rogers. I need your help."

"My god Richard, we thought you were dead. I was so sorry to hear about your family. Where have you been? How are you? It's so great to hear from you. Sorry I'm babbling, but this is such a shock."

"I'm doing fine. I've uh, uh, retired to Florida. A young woman has asked me to review her case. Her vision is superior in most respects, but she experiences a five-second delay before the image registers. Some know-it-all doctor wants to do exploratory surgery on her brain. I will not allow that to happen! I've known Haley for five years, but ..."

"Did you say Haley? Is that Haley King?" The professor asked.

"Yes, you've heard of her?"

"Richard, she's a legend. I have a framed picture of her iris on the wall and x-rays of her optic nerve in my desk. She was the holy grail of research five years ago around the time you disappeared."

There was a long silent pause. "You didn't run away with her did you?"

"Oh god no, Bob! She couldn't have been more than twelve years old back then. Listen, she's a sweet girl who needs our help. I have a simple idea. Maybe it's too simple, but I think it's worth a try."

"What can I do to help?"

"Do you have a broad spectrum hue test I can borrow?"

"Yes, I have a set with ninety-three color disks I can send this afternoon. I think I know where you're going with this Richard. You've concluded the right color combination may block out extra information which may be overloading her brain. It is so simple, I can't imagine it hasn't been tried."

"Not according to her records. You don't need to send the whole kit; I only need the colored lenses. I'll return them in a few days. Thank you Bob."

The lenses were delivered the next afternoon. Renee placed them in a cardboard box along with Haley's files. He went to the main house where Becky led him to the glass porch.

His hands were trembling as he began laying out the lenses. Renee's days as a practicing ophthalmologist were long past. He felt completely unqualified and wanted to run away, but then he saw Haley. Her smile filled him with confidence. "It's God's plan," he heard her say many times. At that moment he believed it.

"Please sit here Haley. Put this patch over your left eye. I'm going to hold up a card with a picture on it. Tell me what you see as soon as you see it; I'm going to time your response."

He held up a picture of a cat. He counted to himself, one, two, three, four, five.

" **CAT** ," Haley called out.

"OK Haley, put your sunglasses on. I'm going to hold up another picture and I want you to do it again. Identify the item as soon as you can."

He held up a picture of a house. He counted to himself, one, two, three, fo

" **House** ," she called out.

Becky was trying to stay out of the way in the kitchen, but she hurried to the porch when she realized Haley's response was faster.

Renee asked Haley to remove her sunglasses, but keep the patch over one eye. He rigged a device to hold the colored lenses over her uncovered eye, then asked her to identify the pictures while he tried various color combinations.

There wasn't much improvement in her response times at first, but after two hours Renee combined six different colored lenses to cut Haley's response to less than a second.

Becky was holding Haley's hand and they were both crying tears of joy with each response.

"I don't claim to fully understand it," said Renee. "But a simple pair of contact lenses with the proper tint should help you see like a typical person."

Haley and Becky hugged Renee while Ms. Shelby joined them as they danced around the room. They prayed, shared a light meal, and celebrated until after midnight.

Becky and Haley went to see her ophthalmologist the following morning. They took the six colored lenses with a brief essay from Renee expecting the doctor to order custom contact lenses. Instead, she became angry.

"This is meaningless babble! It's contemptible," the doctor mumbled while reading the note with a cynical shake of her head. "You said this person is your gardener? I can't imagine why you would listen to him."

Becky and Haley were both trying to speak at the same time.

"It works! It works! We both witnessed it; he was a professor at Yale!"

The doctor shook her head in disgust. "This creep has tricked you into believing there was actual improvement, but what you experienced was nothing more than an illusion. You saw improvement because you don't want to face reality. I understand, but the man is peddling false hope. He is taking advantage of a vulnerable mother and child."

Haley spoke with tears running down her face. "I swear it helps! Doctor Richards' instructions are simple."

"That is the problem Haley. Your condition is not simple. You need to trust me; this charade is unhealthy. Surgery is the answer. I've spent over six months and a lot of effort to reserve time for you at the University."

It was becoming clear to Becky that the doctor was more focused on the amount of time spent to arrange the surgery than what was best for Haley. The doctor spoke directly to Becky.

"Mrs. King, I expect you to have your daughter in Gainesville next month for the procedure. May I depend on you to look out for her welfare?"

Becky reacted with anger as if the doctor had spit in her face.

"You may, but the surgery is not going to happen! You haven't been listening. We are going home to consider our options."

The doctor glared at Becky. "You don't seem to understand that there are no options. You are making a big mistake. Haley needs professional help, not wishful thinking. I won't let this impostor take advantage of your gullibility. I'll have him arrested for practicing medicine without a license."

Becky arrived at the house to find Renee pacing at the front door. She hadn't finished parking the car when Haley jumped out and ran in the back entrance. Becky steadied herself as she walked to the porch.

Renee saw Haley crying when she ran inside, so he asked Becky, "What happened? Why is Haley upset?"

"The doctor wouldn't listen," Becky answered. "She said we're fooling ourselves, giving Haley false hope. She said we should be ashamed for misleading her and that surgery is the only option."

Renee could feel the blood rushing to his face. He hadn't endured this much anguish since a drunk driver killed his wife and daughter. He had insulated himself after their deaths by creating his own alternate reality. Now those horrible memories came flooding back like a crushing wave of unbearable sadness.

As he walked away from Becky he heard her tearful voice, "Renee, what should we do? Please...." He couldn't speak. He couldn't even look at her; he just kept walking.

Chapter 11

### God's Plan

Ms. Shelby was correct when she told Becky that Renee was a fragile man. His tenuous grasp on reality was slipping. He staggered to the cottage and collapsed on the floor, unable to move for twelve hours.

For three days Becky pleaded with Renee to open the door. Ms. Shelby brought food, but he refused to let her in. He closed himself off the same way he did when his wife and daughter died.

The loss of his family had done more to Dr. Richard Rogers than make him re-evaluate his life. The intense stress caused permanent psychological damage leading to schizophrenia. He experienced hallucinations of an imaginary therapist who comforted him. The experience felt very real, but Renee knew it wasn't flesh and blood. On his third day alone in the cottage, the vision appeared to him.

"Renee," the apparition said. "Becky and Haley need you."

"Go away. I've done enough damage," he begged.

"You gave them hope."

"False hope, that's what the doctor said. I haven't practiced medicine in years. I shouldn't have interfered. I don't know what I was thinking."

"Maybe the same thing you were thinking when you saved those four boys on the boat. You know you aren't the one who needs help. It's the girl, just like it was Chris, Steve, Matt, and Brian. Like Haley says, it's all part of God's plan."

The vision was gone along with the torment that clouded Renee's mind. His wife and daughter were lost, but Haley still needed his help. As if on cue there was a knock at the door.

"Who is it?" Renee asked.

"It's Becky. There's a Dr. Orson here to see you. He says you were his advisor at Yale."

\---------------------------------------------

Renee remembered Kevin Orson as a gifted student who quit school after his little brother died of Retinoblastoma. The family's opthalmologist recommended immediate removal of his brother's eye to prevent the cancerous tumor from spreading, but Kevin was a brash medical student who felt it was too soon to extract the eye. He advised his parents against surgery until further tests were completed. They agreed to postpone the operation.

Surgery was eventually performed, but his brother died. Kevin believed the delay which he recommended allowed the disease to spread. My arrogance killed my brother, he thought. Despite his parents' urgings to stay in school, he dropped out.

Dr. Rogers drove over three hundred miles to Kevin's home carrying x-rays, charts and pictures to prove Kevin wasn't responsible for the death. It showed his brother died from complications in surgery that had nothing to do with the delayed treatment.

Renee comforted the young man and convinced him to return to school.

\---------------------------------------------

Renee struggled to his feet and opened the door. There stood Kevin who was no longer an insecure medical student, but a self-assured mature doctor in a very expensive suit. He was now Chief Medical Officer and Senior Vice President with IMICRON Corporation, a world leading company in eye care medicines and devices.

Becky began to explain, "Professor Morrison has called a dozen times to check on you. He told me yesterday that someone who owed you a favor was coming to help. I believe you have met Dr. Orson."

Kevin began talking as he stepped forward, "I knew our department of research and development would be able to help Haley the minute Professor Morrison described her condition."

Kevin looked at Becky. "I want to be upfront and honest with you both. We believe the study of Haley's eyes will advance our research by decades, but we'll put her welfare first. My company will find the best course of treatment, provide lenses, medicines or anything else she needs. Of course we'll pay for her time in addition to covering the treatment."

Becky returned to the main house while Renee and Dr. Orson reviewed Haley's files. Dr. Orson said he would fly Becky and Haley to their research headquarters in Houston, Texas.

"They will stay in the best hotel and be treated like royalty," Dr. Orson assured Renee.

"How long will it take?" Renee asked.

"It will be an ongoing process, but the initial treatment in Houston shouldn't take more than a couple weeks. We'll work with Haley until both she and Becky are satisfied."

Dr. Orson accompanied Haley and Becky to Houston two days later. The wait for their return seemed like months even though it took only ten days. Ms. Shelby called Chris as soon as she learned Haley's plane was flying into Tampa International Airport.

At least twenty people drove to Tampa to welcome her. Chris, Renee and Ms. Shelby rode with Mr. Naidoo and Dan because they felt too nervous to drive. Becky kept the results secret so no one knew what to expect.

The airport was bustling with activity, a textbook example of the conditions Haley couldn't handle. Haley's friends didn't know what to expect when the passengers began to disembark. Would she be holding on to Becky, walk with a cane, or march off without assistance?

Chris was the first to see her. She exited the terminal gate slowly and then ran full speed through the crowded waiting area into his arms. They spun around like dancers performing a Viennese Waltz. After a long embrace and tender kiss, he gazed deeply into her eyes which were now emerald green.

"They're beautiful. You're beautiful." Chris wept as the crowd surrounded them.

Renee heard Haley whisper, "It's all part of God's plan."

Chapter 12

### Brian and the Nina Nizhoni

Brian Adams grew up on his family's farm in Wildwood. His wavy brown hair, long sideburns, ruddy complexion, Stetson hat and ever-present blue jeans created the look of a cowboy.

His delicate features earned him a nickname he despised, pretty boy. He was shy and awkward with girls, so it wasn't a surprise when people assumed he was gay. That didn't bother him as much as the nickname.

Brian's primary interest was environmental engineering. In addition to their farm in Wildwood, his parents obtained a rare government lease for a shack located in the Chassahowitzka Wildlife Management Area. It was less than five miles from Weeki Wachee Gardens as the crow flies, but extremely isolated.

An entrance was made by the former owner, a logging company. The road was little more than a muddy trail which ended a mile from the cabin. Being secluded was just fine with his parents who were conservationists with an abiding love for nature. They taught Brian to love nature and be considerate of everyone. That's why it was so hard to understand why he heartlessly referred to Haley as the "Mutant."

Brian was the only person who didn't like her. Instead of compassion for her disability, he treated Haley with scorn. Everyone else knew her as the pretty little blind girl. She had a contagious optimism about life. It wasn't naiveté, but the ability to bring out the best in people, but Brian seemed genuinely afraid of her.

After the boys graduated from high school, the other boys learned that Brian knew more about Haley than anyone. He had good reasons to be fearful. It started a couple years before they met her, when Brian was ten years old.

\------------------------------------

Mr. and Mrs. Adams (or Dr. and Dr. Adams) were research biologists who volunteered three weeks each summer to conduct field studies at the Archbold Biological Research Station near Lake Placid, Florida. It is one of the few elevated areas in Florida which has remained above sea level for over a million years which provides a home for many plant and animal species found nowhere else on Earth. Old timers call it the Ancient Island.

Brian and his younger sister Jamie loved going to Archbold, but it wasn't the rare birds or flowers that fascinated them. It was stories told by a mysterious old man describing the natural history of Florida and the people who lived there in the past. They first met him in the spring of 1994.

The old man was over six feet tall, had long blonde hair and wore a long cape like Count Dracula. Jamie said the cape must be very hot because the man's face looked melted. Brian suggested his features had been worn away by time. You couldn't see his eyes because they were covered by thick sunglasses like the ones people wear after cataract surgery.

Nobody knew the geological history of the region like the old man, but he had a reputation for making up wild stories to frighten children. Most people ignored him or were mildly entertained, but Brian and Jamie loved his stories. It seemed like the old man was a permanent resident at the station. He didn't give his name so people called him Archie as a shorthand version of Archbold.

His stories were scientifically accurate, at least in the beginning. He described mammoths, mastodons, and camels that once roamed Florida. The children delighted in his depiction of armadillo-like creatures the size of a VW bug and saber toothed cats that once roamed the area.

Then Archie began telling the children a story which fully captured their imagination. It was the tale of the oldest and most advanced society on Earth. He called them Homo princeps, a separate species who developed agriculture and advanced written language before humans.

Archie told the children, "In a sense, you are their descendants." He explained that Homo princeps spliced their DNA with indigenous mammals during Earth's Eemian period 150,000 years ago.

"That's why scientists have never been able to effectively explain the vital differences between ape and human intelligence. Just like a sweet orange tree is grafted onto a sour rootstock to create a stronger plant, Homo sapiens (humans) are the result of a similar process."

Jamie firmly replied, "Our parents are scientists and they don't think we're apes. They taught us we are children of God!"

"I agree," Archie replied. "Homo princeps also believed in God. Just because a person gets an artificial limb or a transplanted organ doesn't make them someone else. Just because you share some DNA with an ape doesn't make you an ape. You have the body of a wild animal, but your mind and soul are boundless."

Archie continued to explain how Homo princeps' technology was far ahead of modern man. They achieved an unimaginable level of scientific sophistication and commanded inexhaustible clean energy by controlling the natural magnetic forces of Earth. Their homes were lit by energized molecules within the air which provided continuous light to any area they chose. They were environmentally aware with buildings, tools, and machines constructed of biodegradable materials, but even they could not halt Earth's natural cycle of climate change.

To survive the last ice age, Homo princeps altered the basic structure of plants to provide high levels of protein and other nutrients required for peak health. They altered deadly pathogens to render them harmless, even beneficial in some cases. They began manipulating their own genetic structure to adapt to changing environmental conditions. The result was increased intelligence, elimination of mental disorders, and modification of behavior to better conform to the social structure. A few even developed limited telepathic abilities, but it wasn't enough to save them. Then he explained how over-manipulation of their DNA caused the disappearance of the species.

The last ice age called the Pleistocene epoch ended around 11,000 B.C. with a period of extreme weather called the Younger Dryas. Life was practically impossible for humanoids. Many animals went extinct. Homo princeps' advanced scientific competence enabled them to adapt at first, but the weather continued to worsen until they were forced to move underground. The last remaining community of Homo princeps lived in an area now known as the Northeastern United States.

After generations of living below the surface, the once great civilization was in danger of obliteration. They modified their visual genetic structure to see in the dark, customized behavioral genes to be more docile in the confined living areas, increased skin density to protect against cold, and adapted their digestive systems to increase absorption of nutrients.

A thousand years of surviving in darkness rendered them unrecognizable. Much of their scientific knowledge was forgotten and many had lost their will to live. Less than ten thousand remained. It was clear that unless something changed they would die out within a few generations.

As the climate moderated, they embarked on one last effort to save their civilization. They emerged from darkness in desperation to embark on a long, treacherous journey south to a remote former colony in Florida.

Their eyes were sensitive to the light, their pale skin burned, and their passive nature left them woefully unprepared to face predators. Less than one in ten survived the three-year march to the ancient highlands of Florida. They made their home where the Archbold Biological Station is located today and began trying to rebuild their civilization.

When the Paleo-Indians arrived in Florida they viewed the Homo princeps as gods. The Indians called them Nina Nizhoni which means beautiful fire because their genetically altered eyes glowed like burning embers.

Many of the artificial genetic changes and the physical effects of living underground for generations were not reversible. Their technology was deteriorating and they no longer had the ability to repair it. Even their written language was in danger of being lost because it was maintained on sophisticated biodegradable devices designed to disintegrate. Extinction seemed inevitable. It would be as if they never existed.

Their numbers continued to decline and less than two hundred Nina Nizhoni remained.

The Paleo Indians were awed by the technology of the people with glowing eyes, but the Nina Nizhoni (Homo princeps) realized the Indians were their descendants. The native species they had created were thriving while the "gods" with all their advanced technology were facing extinction. In that moment, the leaders of the great race understood their time was coming to an end.

The Nina Nizhoni began assembling as much of their history, culture, and technology as possible. The Indians provided most of the labor to build a small subterranean library which would serve as a repository for the remains of their civilization. A clone was placed in stasis to maintain the library.

Recessive genetic code was implanted into the Indian children to remain inactive until the reopening of the library. Then the queen will return, a female child of pure Nina Nizhoni (Homo princep) blood to be born who will be their emissary to the future, a voice crying out from the past to remember them and not repeat their mistakes.

Archie shouted, **"She is alive**!"

Chapter 13

### Archie and Anastasius

When Archie finished telling the story to Brian and Jamie (who were only ten and nine years old), he threw his head back and spread his arms wide as if to make some great proclamation.

"The queen will have the genetic memories of the Nina Nizhoni, and is the only one who can translate the great secrets of the library!"

"That's crazy," Brian said. "That would make the queen thousands of years old, nobody lives that long."

Archie laughed. "You didn't listen. She is not old; she is the same age as you. Her DNA was preserved in the genetic code of the Indians who once inhabited this land. It was reawakened on the day you were born."

"So where is she? Who are you, what do you have to do with the Nina Nizhoni?" Brian asked.

"I am the custodian of the library," Archie declared. "The Nina Nizhoni people were experts at cloning life in the laboratory. They even perfected a method to retain their memories. I am an engineered genetic clone who has been revived after ten-thousand years in suspended animation."

"Bullshit," Brian shouted. He didn't normally use vulgar language, but Archie was lying! He must be lying, Brian thought. He didn't want to consider the alternative.

"I'm going to tell," Jamie squealed, referring to Brian's language.

Archie removed his thick dark glasses to reveal hideous glowing yellow eyes.

"It's time for a new Archie," the old man laughed.

Jamie screamed and ran away as fast as she could, but Brian stood his ground even though he knew Archie could see his knees quivering. Brian was not sure if bravery or fear was preventing him from running.

"You aren't the custodian!" Brian shouted. "You're a liar! There's no such thing as the Nina Nizhoni. Even if they did exist they're all dead now!"

Archie spoke softly, "There's a little Nina Nizhoni in practically every human. In a way, you are their children." He lifted his glasses to cover his eyes.

"Liar!" Brian mumbled. "I'm not like you. Why are you telling me?"

Archie answered, "My instruments indicate you and four others were born on the same day as the queen. You are bound by a force stronger than blood. You will recognize her glowing eyes, serve as her guide, and help her restore balance to the world."

"So she'll be a freak like you!" Brian shouted. "I won't follow her, no one will. I'll fight her!"

Archie's composure softened. "She won't be like me. I'm a genetically engineered organism without a soul. She will be irresistible; people will be drawn to her. I am nothing more than a biological machine whose single purpose is to maintain the library for my queen. Unlike you, I will cease to exist when I die."

This is ridiculous, Brian thought. Even as a child, he wasn't naïve enough to fall for such an outrageous story.

Real or not, the story frightened him. "Asshole, lying asshole," Brian shouted as he ran away.

Brian and Jamie had nightmares for weeks. They told their parents what Archie said and his father reported it to the Director of the station. The Director said Archie would be banned for upsetting the children, but that wasn't necessary because the old man was never seen again.

The incident was so traumatic that Brian stayed away from Archbold for eight years. Jamie forgot the old man's scary eyes and was one of the first people from Weeki Wachee to make friends with Haley.

Brian didn't forget the old man or his stories. Haley moved to Bayport when his memories of the incident were finally beginning to fade. She was everything Archie said the queen would be: smart, pretty and had those glowing yellow eyes. Most people were captivated by her, but not Brian. His skin crawled every time he saw her.

He treated Haley like an enemy for years by calling her names, spreading rumors and trying to turn friends against her. He felt compelled to let everyone know she couldn't be trusted, but Brian didn't tell anyone except his parents what happened at Archbold. Nobody would believe me, he thought. _"I'm not sure I believe it myself."_

Brian's feelings for Haley began to change after the lightning incident on his sixteenth birthday. Fear was replaced with fascination which grew into an awkward friendship. He felt even more comfortable around her when she began wearing tinted contact lenses. The day after high school graduation, Brian borrowed his dad's car to drive to Archbold Biological Station. It was time to confront Archie, grow up and put those childish stories behind him.

After arriving at the station he began asking if anyone knew where the old man had gone. A couple people remembered Archie, but no one had seen him since the incident eight years earlier. The Director suggested Brian speak with a part-time research assistant who started work soon after Archie disappeared. "I think the young man is his nephew," he said. "There is an uncanny resemblance."

As Brian entered the office a strange looking, but oddly familiar young man was sitting behind the desk. The man looked up with a wide smile.

"Well if it isn't Mr. Adams! I've been expecting you," he said with enthusiasm. "You were my favorite student. What have you been doing all this time?"

"Do I know you?" Brian asked.

"Come on now, look a little closer. You know who I am," the man winked. A sense of panic washed over Brian. It couldn't be, he thought.

"Archie?" Brian whimpered as he began to tremble.

"That's right, but around here I'm known as Anastasias. It means resurrection. Clever don't you think?"

Brian wanted to run, but instead stood quivering like the little boy from eight years earlier. He felt his legs buckling as he dropped into a chair in front of the desk. He sat motionless for a moment, then managed to speak.

"They said you were banned from ever coming back."

"Archie was banned, I wasn't. Don't tell anyone I'm the old man or they'll take you away in a straitjacket," he said with a chuckle.

"This can't be real," Brian said. "I came here to prove you lied. I've finally starting to think of Haley as a friend, but maybe I was right all along!"

Anastasias leaned back in his chair. "Oh I see, you're trying to understand your feelings for the queen."

"You don't know me," Brian shouted.

A few people outside the office were starting to listen so Anastasias closed the door before continuing.

"I know more than you think," He said softly.

Brian sat dazed, unable to move. Anastasias pulled out a sheet of paper-like material which stretched across the entire desk. It was covered with marks, apparent coordinates, and writing similar to Egyptian hieroglyphics.

"Human events aren't as random as they appear; it is simple physics. Every interaction is preceded and followed by a mark or shadow on the space-time continuum. I know that sounds like science fiction, but it's a basic tenant of the physical universe. I use a device similar to radar, but it tracks biological interactions on an immense scale."

Anastasias pointed to the graph as he spoke. "When the queen was born, these five linked lifelines appeared. The device indicated the queen's medallion bearer would visit Archbold numerous times before 1993 as reflected by these marks. The small size of the shadows indicated it would be a child who would later have intimate contact with the queen."

Brian looked up in panic. "What do you mean by intimate?"

Anastasias continued without answering the question. "I spoke with every child who visited Archbold for over a year. The shadows changed when you and Jamie arrived. It meant one of you was the person for whom I was waiting. Then the device was able to calculate that one of you would return for the key. And here you are, just like the machine predicted."

"What key? What are you talking about? I didn't come looking for a key. You couldn't have known I would return because I didn't decide until two weeks ago."

Brian glared at Anastasius and snapped, "What makes you think I'm going to help a queen who is going to rule over us?"

"It isn't like that Brian. She is here to benefit mankind, not conquer them. You know this girl. In fact, you're connected to her. Why do you think you have that strange scar on your foot? You need to understand that reality is more than things you can see and hear. This may sound trite, but what is your heart telling you?"

Brian's posture relaxed as he reflected. "That's the thing," he responded as he remembered the times he'd mistreated Haley. "The person I know is a smart, sweet and shy seventeen-year-old girl. She has become more confident with her contact lens, but I can guarantee she is not some kind of alien queen."

Anastasias smiled as he recognized Brian's affection for Haley. "The queen is in her genetic code to awaken when she is ready." He leaned back in his chair. "The time has come."

Anastasius opened a desk drawer and pulled out a gold medallion. It looked like an enormous coin, three inches across and a half-inch thick. It was attached to a leather cord. "Give this to her, she will know what to do."

"What is it? Brian asked.

"It is the key to her genetic code," Anastasias replied. He handed the medallion to Brian and demonstrated how to place it in Haley's hand.

Brian was stunned by the weight of the artifact. It must be pure gold, he thought. Then his heart sank as he recognized the pattern on its face. Etz Chayim, the same shape as the scar on his foot!

Chapter 14

### Billy Bowlegs

Brian wasn't the only boy to experience a life-changing event when he was a child. Mathew Jackson also endured a similar, but seemingly unrelated event.

Matt invited Daniel Naidoo to his grandparents' house for Thanksgiving when they were eight years old. He described the trip to Arcadia Florida as a great adventure including a holiday feast, crazy relatives, and a secret spot to find Indian arrow heads.

Depending on your point of view, that was the time Matt either received a supernatural gift or suffered a severe brain injury. Either way, that is when he started talking to a dead Indian.

It was a chilly forty degrees at 5 a.m. on Thanksgiving morning in Wildwood. The house bustled with activity as the Jackson family dressed, packed, and loaded the car. Dan had stayed overnight at the Jackson's home and Matt's parents decided it would be easier to let Dan and Matt sleep until the last minute. Matt was the youngest of four children. His older brother Chip was sixteen, his sisters Diana and Lee were fourteen.

Matt's mother was a Christian, but his father was a Deist who rose to the level of 32nd degree Scottish Rite Noble in the Masonic Lodge. He taught Matt to trust in reason, analysis, and individualism.

It was still dark when the car backed out of the driveway to begin the adventure. Matt and Dan peered quietly out the station wagon's back window with an unobstructed view of the sky. They gazed in awe at the stars and without uttering a request were served a delicious breakfast of egg salad sandwiches with hot chocolate.

The three-hour drive to Arcadia was even more fun than Matt promised. His parents pretended to be official tour guides pointing out historic landmarks. Matt's favorite milestone was Dade Battlefield. The manicured green meadows surrounded by tranquil forests stood in stark contrast to the site's tragic history. This was the location where a band of Seminole Indians ambushed Major Francis L. Dade's column of soldiers, killing all but three.

After endless choruses of a thousand bottles of beer on the wall, squabbling, and repeated calls for potty breaks, Matt's parents were relieved when they reached Arcadia. The long gravel driveway sounded like popcorn under the tires as the car moved slowly past trees plump with oranges to a shady parking spot behind the massive grey house.

There was no other house in Florida like it. The elder Jacksons' home was a remarkable salute to concrete, built to withstand the most powerful storm. With the help of a few able-bodied men, Matt's Grandfather Osa Jackson designed and built the entire house from the ground up.

Every handmade concrete block weighed over fifty pounds. As a foreman with the Seaboard Railroad, Osa was able to obtain numerous sections of track. He drove the steel rails down through the block walls deep into the earth to fortify the structure. Matt's father joked, "Someday when they try to tear this old house down, somebody's gunna get one hell of a surprise."

Grandma Jackson led the welcoming party to the back porch. Grandpa Osa brought up the rear behind a myriad of aunts, uncles, cousins and friends.

There was Matt's Great Uncle Al Masters. He was a pudgy, distinguished looking man who wore thick glasses on his large bulbous balding head. He took great delight in amazing the children with his science demonstrations.

Matt claimed his Aunt Henrietta was the best cook in Florida. The house was filled with the wonderful fragrance of fresh baked pumpkin pie and the sound of people laughing. Aunt Henrietta's husband was a tailor from Palermo, Sicily. He was a sweet man, but Matt's brother Chip teased Dan by saying he was a member of the Sicilian mafia.

The Presbyterian Church of Arcadia held a covered dish luncheon on the banks of the Peace River on Friday after Thanksgiving. Dan was invited to join the family in what they described as a feast of food and fellowship. A prominent cattle rancher offered his land each year for the celebration. He owned over a hundred-thousand acres that remained uninhabited since the Seminole Indians were forced off the land at the end of the Third Seminole War. The property was wild and undisturbed but one area had been cleared for the annual buffet.

The trip required a long drive down a dusty trail. Mr. Jackson called it a dirt road but he was being generous. The excursion offered an endless panorama of boring saw palmetto bushes. Dan's backside was getting sore and he started to wish he hadn't come when it appeared in the distance.

"It" was a forest oasis along the banks of the Peace River. The contrast couldn't have been more intense between the miles of rattlesnake-infested scrub and the lush green hills of ancient oak trees along the river.

After the car was parked and the food unloaded, Matt scurried into the woods with Dan following close behind. He made a beeline for a clearing where several arrowheads were found the previous year. Heavy rains the past week turned the normally docile river into a dangerous bubbling cauldron. Matt led the way through the dense jungle. They emerged on the banks of the river near a large oak tree which had fallen on its' side and was hanging over the water.

The wide limbs beckoned like an irresistible siren calling the boys to venture out for a better view. Matt was the first to scurry to a position twenty feet from the shore. His foot slipped as he looked back.

Dan saw him fall and heard a loud thud from his head hitting the limb on the way down. He was certain Matt would drown when his body disappeared beneath the surface.

\--------------------------------------------

The next thing Matt remembered was being surrounded by a thick white fog. It wasn't hot or cold. It wasn't windy or still. There were no sensations of pain or pleasure, no odors or sensations of any kind, pure thought. He knew it must be a dream, but it felt more real than when he was awake.

A stranger was standing in front of him. Matt wasn't afraid, partly because the man looked like the ghost of Christmas Present, a jolly soul dressed in bright robes with a big feathered hat.

"Who are you?" Matt asked without uttering a word. He didn't understand it, but by some means was communicating without actually speaking.

"Your people call me Billy Bowlegs. You may call me Chief."

"Like an Indian?" Matt asked, his eyes as wide as saucers.

"Yes," the man replied.

Matt sat still as the Indian approached and put his hand on his shoulder. Matt realized this wasn't physical reality, but he knew intuitively it was genuine on a much deeper level.

"You may think of me as a guardian angel or better still, 'spirit guide.' I will help you two more times after today, but first I will tell you a true story."

The chief looked at Matt carefully as if picking a melon in the market, "You have been chosen to make a difference."

"A difference in what?" Matt asked.

The Chief continued as if ignoring Matt's question. "You've heard of the Dade Massacre?" He asked.

"I've been to the battlefield!" Matt eagerly responded, wanting to show off his knowledge. "That's where a band of Indians massacred a troop of American soldiers."

The Chief shook his head slowly in resignation. Then he sat down to begin his story.

"I am a descendant of the Creek nation, but some of my ancestors lived in this place eleven thousand years before the white man. They numbered over one hundred tribes. Then the Europeans brought disease and war. Most of our people were dead in less than two hundred years."

"In 1816, the First Seminole War began when General Andrew Jackson invaded North Florida on behalf of the United States." The Chief paused for a moment, his face turned away from Matt.

"The general was a relative of yours." He turned back toward Matt. "Do you know how the United States ended that war?" he asked, but didn't wait for an answer.

"The British were trading partners with the Seminoles, so the U.S. soldiers pretended to be British by flying a British flag. The two most important Seminole Chiefs were captured when they came to trade."

Matt sat up straight, "You mean the soldiers cheated?"

The Chief paused and took a slow breath. "The white soldiers were very good at deception." He looked directly into Matt's eyes, but didn't say a word. Matt watched it unfold, the sad history between the ancient Americans and the newly arrived Europeans.

==========================

Many Indians were forced from their lands to areas farther south. The Treaty of Moultrie Creek created a four-million-acre reservation for the Indians. It wasn't a fair solution, but it was an honest attempt by the Europeans to find a way to coexist without slaughtering the ancient inhabitants.

Predictably, some Indians refused to stay on the reservation. Most didn't understand or accept the European concept of property rights. The Europeans didn't abide by the treaty either. Some settlers encroached on the remaining Indian land. To make the situation worse, escaped slaves joined the Indians, so slave-hunters raided Seminole villages searching for them.

The treaty had failed within five years. The U.S. Congress decided to relocate all Seminoles from the Florida peninsula to a settlement west of the Mississippi, forcibly if necessary.

Some Indians refused to leave even though they were far outnumbered by the soldiers. The only way of life they had ever known was being taken from them.

On December 28, 1835, a band of warriors joined forces with escaped slaves to attack Major Francis L. Dade's column of one hundred and ten soldiers. It became known as the Dade Massacre. The Indians thought they had won a great victory, but when Chief Osceola arrived under a flag of truce, he was captured and sent to South Carolina to die in prison. A few Indians who moved further south managed to escape. It didn't matter where they went, the white settlers were close behind.

==========================

The Chief spoke with deep sadness. "I led two hundred brave warriors to their death in the Third Seminole War."

"You must hate white people," Matt whimpered.

"No," the chief said. His tone was not filled with hate or anger, but with compassion.

"I don't understand."

The Chief looked at Matt, "Weren't you taught to love your neighbor as yourself?"

Matt nodded yes.

"And I was taught that we are all children of the same Great Spirit. We are brothers and sisters. The moment we forget our oneness, we can justify anything. We can take another man's property, make him a slave, or even kill him."

"Can you forgive us?" Matt asked meekly.

"There is nothing to forgive," the Chief replied. "We've all failed at some point to recognize our oneness and have paid the price through spawned retribution, lost cooperation or overlooked opportunities. We are members of the same family. Our refusal to recognize that bears its own punishment."

Chapter 15

### Lost Childhood

The Indian Chief was gone; Matt was alone. He could feel a force pulling him upward. The light grew brighter as he ascended until it was blinding. He had risen to the river surface, staring into the sun.

"Are you O.K.?" Dan shouted from the tree limb over the river as he frantically reached, grasping Matt's shirt collar. "Man I thought you were a goner! You're lucky I caught you before you floated away."

Matt began describing his encounter with the Chief, struggling to catch his breath. Dan started laughing while helping him back onto the limb. His story sounded ridiculous.

"You've been hallucinating," Dan chuckled. "You were under water for less than a minute. There wasn't enough time to have a conversation or even say hello." Dan raised his arm like a Native American greeting in an old western movie, "or should I say 'how'? And what kind of Indian Chief is named Billy Bowlegs?"

Matt sat on the limb, a dazed and confused eight-year-old boy. "It felt so real," he said. The whole incident was a fading memory within a few minutes. Despite his wet clothes and the knot on his head, they continued searching for arrowheads until their stomachs started to rumble. Then they headed back to the gathering for lunch.

Matt's drowning vision didn't seem important. Dan forgot about it until two weeks later when Matt brought it up in school. He asked the history teacher if there was a Seminole Chief named Billy Bowlegs. The other students heard the question and laughed at the funny name, but the teacher didn't. She was intrigued.

"Who told you about Billy Bowlegs?" she asked.

"I talked to him on my Thanksgiving vacation," Matt answered.

"Umm, I don't think so," she said. "He's been dead over a hundred years."

"Well he said he was Chief Billy Bowlegs," Matt replied.

Matt's teacher, Mrs. Johnson, knew Chief Billy Bowlegs (more accurately known as Holata Micco) was considered by many to be the last great Seminole Chief. Mrs. Johnson was amazed at the breadth of Matt's knowledge, especially the details. Matt spoke with authority as if he personally knew the Chief.

Mrs. Johnson chatted with Matt like an old colleague for more than a half hour while students giggled each time they heard the funny name. Matt's teacher concluded he must have attended an historical reenactment performed by Seminole Indians while he was on vacation.

From that day forward, classmates greeted Matt with "how's Chief Boney Bowlegs doing?" That's when he became known as the kid who talks to dead Indians.

Matt wasn't bothered by teasing from his classmates, but he was troubled by his vision of an Indian Chief. The apparition was gone but the message remained. " _You have been chosen to make a difference._ "

By the time he was a teenager, Matt had become a determined crusader for government reform. His father gave him a poster from the musical "Man of La Mancha" as a joke. Rather than seeing the humor, Matt displayed it on his bedroom wall as a symbol of his devotion to the cause. He had become Don Quixote, the mad knight following an impossible dream.

It was becoming increasingly clear that creating a system to represent people from many different backgrounds and cultures was almost impossible. He grew increasingly negative over the next few years and even began to question his faith. Stunned friends frequently heard him say, "God doesn't exist; it is up to us to change the world."

Matt's cynicism faded during high school after reading Norman Vincent Peale's, "The Power of Positive Thinking." He grew more optimistic that men could solve conflicts through logic and reasoning, but on April 20, 1999, the Columbine high school massacre reminded him that humans frequently do things that make no sense.

He was still despondent months later. It took all four of his close friends to coax him to the river for their sixteenth birthday fishing trip. Matt didn't tell the others, but his vision of a Seminole Indian Chief returned when the lightning struck. As Matt lay face-down in the water, the apparition appeared.

\-------------------------------------------

"I am here to deliver two messages," the Chief said.

"Thanks Chief but I'd rather be left alone. I've been miserable since the last time we talked."

The vision of the Chief grew more intense, "Life is a journey my friend, and you have taken the wrong trail."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Matt asked.

"You are moving further away from what you know is true in your heart," the Chief replied.

"I'm doing everything I can, but it's hopeless,"Matt answered.

"It is only hopeless if you don't have hope." the Chief calmly responded.

"Really? Matt sneered skeptically. "That's your profound wisdom? It doesn't matter anyway. You're a figment of my imagination."

The Chief sighed, "That is your problem; you have stopped believing. If I am an illusion, how do you explain what you learned from our last encounter?"

"That's easy," Matt answered, "I must have read or heard about you somewhere. The memory stayed in my subconscious until I hit my head falling into the river. I am probably experiencing something similar now."

"Then perhaps it will help if I tell you something you can't learn in books, school, or on television. **Haley King is not human.** "

"What? That's ridiculous!" Matt scoffed.

The Chief said, "You will soon understand."

"You said you had two messages for me. What is the second thing you wanted to say?" Matt asked.

"Listen to God."

"I don't believe in God," Matt grunted.

"That's not true," the Chief replied, "but you have closed your eyes."

"How do you expect me to believe in something I can't see?"

"Trust your heart; feel God's presence. You know he is with you. Christopher Hagan is in your life for a reason, seek him out."

\-----------------------------------

The Indian Chief had vanished. Matt awoke on the deck of the boat with the Etz Chayim symbol burned on his heal. Just another dream, he thought. I'm not falling for it this time!

Chapter 16

### Free Will

The First Baptist church of Wildwood was a busy place on Sunday mornings. The most popular activity, other than worship service, was the Sunday school class "God in the Modern World," a discussion group led by Christopher Hagan. Chris was the youngest class leader ever sanctioned by the church.

Matt attended worship service each week despite his crisis of faith. He sat with Brian's sister Jamie, while mentally picking apart the pastor's sermon. Showing up for Sunday school class was another matter. He hadn't attended in years.

Matt wasn't an Atheist. Despite his outbursts, he never stopped believing, but he did have questions. _"Why does God allow suffering? Why are we here? ..."_

Chris referred to Matt as "God's work in progress."

The Sunday following Matt's second encounter with the Indian Chief, he decided to visit Chris's class. It was no secret Chris was spiritually gifted, but Matt still felt awkward discussing religion with his childhood friend.

Chris's class was large enough to allow Matt to hide in the crowd. His recollections of Sunday school were blown away when he walked into the class packed with enthusiastic followers. It felt more like a pep rally. The conversation wasn't a routine scripture lesson. It was a serious exchange of ideas considering how the teachings of the Bible could help people deal with human weakness. Matt found it difficult to reconcile the Chris he knew with the person leading the session, as if the boy who just turned sixteen had channeled the spirit of an old professor.

He wondered, _"Could it be a coincidence that the Columbine High School massacre is today's topic of conversation?"_ Despite his intent to sit quietly, Matt felt an uncontrollable urge to speak.

"If God is the all-powerful being you claim, then why is the world so screwed up?" he asked.

The class was silent for a moment as everyone was stunned by the outburst. That is everyone except Chris. He wasn't surprised that Matt was in the class, and he wasn't surprised by the question.

"Our brains function within a 'Selective Information Network,'" Chris answered.

Some of the class attendees chuckled, having heard it before. They knew what Chris meant, but it was nonsense to Matt.

Matt looked at Chris with confusion, "What?"

Chris continued. "It's my way of saying we don't have enough information to make flawless decisions. We're not omniscient. The Selective Information Network acronym stands for SIN, get it?"

Matt shook his head, "Yea. I get it. It's in man's nature to sin, but the question is why? Why did God deliberately create flawed people?"

"Flawed isn't the best word," Chris replied. "We're unfinished. You might say humans are like students who haven't graduated. The world is our classroom with an incomplete grade until we get our degree in 'free will.'"

"Free will?" Matt sneered. "Didn't free will result in the Columbine massacre? If we're being graded on free will, we've already failed."

"Exactly the point," Chris replied. "Only one man has ever passed the test."

"So why are we here if we can't pass the test?" Matt asked.

"To help us understand why we need God's omniscience. We do have a choice; he's asking us to choose him. There is an old saying, 'Nobody is perfect.' Thankfully, God doesn't ask us to be. We need to recognize our imperfection, then ask for help. When we accept Jesus we don't give up free will, we choose to accept the will of God."

Matt was encouraged by Chris's words but wanted more. "I understand what you're saying Chris, but is there any tangible evidence that God exists? Is our religion based solely on faith?"

Chris walked to the white board and picked up a marker.

"First I think we need to acknowledge that if God is powerful enough to create everything in our existence, we may never be able to prove it. It may be like trying to draw a picture of a whale from within the whale's belly. Do you understand what I'm saying Matt?"

"I think so, but isn't that just another way of saying faith is all we have?"

Chris turned to the board, "That may be true, but I believe the signs are there if we open our eyes." He wrote:

"In the beginning was the Word,

and the Word was with God,

and the Word was God

– John 1:1."

"Like you, many of us struggle to reconcile our faith in terms of modern science. This passage from the Bible was written over a thousand years ago. Yet it explains God's relationship to quantum physics in a way modern scientists are only beginning to understand."

"What's scientific about the first chapter and verse of the book of John?" Matt asked.

"Glad you asked," Chris smiled. "Word in this verse refers to Jesus. It is important to note that both biblical and secular scholars agree on that point. This verse was originally written in ancient Greek. 'Word' in ancient Greek means 'information,' so a more scientifically accurate translation of this passage would be..." Chris wrote on the board:

"In the beginning was Information (Jesus)

and Information (Jesus) was with God

and Information (Jesus) was God"

"What is the foundation of the universe?" Chris asked rhetorically. "Many scientists say information is the only thing capable of explaining quantum mechanics by unifying wave-particle duality and the Heisenberg uncertainty principle.

"Simply put, scientists have figured out that according to quantum physics everything in the universe boils down to information..., in other words it all boils down to **God**."

The class broke into applause with scattered laughter. A couple people said "Amen!" Chris added an "Amen," and continued to speak.

"This isn't a clever play on words. Rene Descartes put it this way, 'cogito ergo sum' which means, 'I think therefore I am.' Some people believe the Bible is no more than a collection of myths, but this verse explains what modern scientists are only beginning to understand."

Matt felt optimistic for the first time in months. It wasn't the logical arguments made by Chris or the wise words of an old Indian apparition. It was realizing other people were struggling with the same questions; he wasn't alone.

As Matt scanned the room for familiar faces, he felt an unexplained connection with one particular person. It was the compassionate gaze of a beautiful girl with pale complexion, blonde hair, and emerald green eyes.

Chapter 17

### The Geneticist

Matt became the boys' unofficial counselor despite his own problems. He was a good listener, the person Brian asked for advice after his disturbing trip to Archbold. Matt sat quietly as Brian talked for over an hour, recounting the whole story from his childhood encounter with Archie to the recent meeting when Anastasius gave him the gold medallion. Brian's voice quivered with shame as he described his guilt for mistreating Haley.

"I started spreading untruthful rumors when she was struggling with her disability. I still haven't apologized; I wouldn't know how. She treated me like a friend, but I've been a jerk." Brian explained how his feelings for Haley changed over the past year from fear to esteem.

"It doesn't matter what we call her. I see Haley for what she is, a good and caring person. I'll visit Becky's tomorrow to give her the medallion. A jeweler confirmed it is an alloy of 18 karat gold with several unidentified metals. It must be worth a fortune. Maybe it will help make up for some of the misery I caused."

Matt appeared undaunted by the incredible story until he remembered the Indian Chief's words, " **Haley is not human**." If that's true, he thought, maybe the Chief isn't a hallucination. Have I actually been talking to a ghost?

Matt realized that his apparition of an Indian Chief, the lightning strike, and the revelation about Haley might all be connected. Haley seemed like a different person with her new contact lenses. Brian's story made her recent transformation more mysterious and a little discomforting.

Brian was confident that Haley was a force for good, but Matt's struggles had taught him people aren't always as they seem. He considered his response carefully to avoid the appearance of attacking Haley.

"I think we should wait a while before telling Haley anything. We should learn more about her. I have never seen Haley happier since her vision was corrected. Do you really want to upset her with this crazy story about the queen of an ancient civilization? Besides, there may be another way to find out if the story is true. Steve can help; it's called a genetic test."

\-------------------------------------------

Steve Davis was the last boy who shared Haley's birthdate and who also experienced a life-changing event before he was ten years old.

Steve's parents knew he was special when he started talking at six months. He memorized the periodic table of elements by age four and could perform basic math better than most teenagers. At age six, The American Association of Gifted Children at Duke University confirmed he was a genius.

His interest in the human genome began indirectly from the death of his older brother, John. John wasn't anything like Steve. He had blonde hair like his mother while Steve's hair was jet black like his father's. Steve was considered a tough kid while classmates referred to John as a wimp. Steve idolized his brother, but was embarrassed when John cried in public.

John was teased ruthlessly by a group of tough kids, so he avoided them by spending time with Steve and his friends. They frequently visited an abandoned limestone quarry near the house. It was located in an area so overgrown with palmetto and scrub oaks that most people didn't know it existed. Steve's parents didn't have a clue, but it was a great secret hangout for kids.

Sometimes an entire group of a dozen kids would go. They ignored no-trespassing signs and slipped through barbed-wire fences to throw rocks into "the pits." The pits were massive craters over 40 feet deep dug out of limestone. The stark contrast between the sparkling green water in the bottom and the sheer white cliffs created a surreal landscape, a strange alluring place that excited their imagination.

A few months before his fifteenth birthday in the summer of 1993, John became despondent. He went out alone one morning and didn't come home. His parents were concerned and asked Steve if he knew where his older brother had gone. Steve remembered the slippery cliffs of the quarry, but was afraid his parents would be angry to learn about the secret hangout.

He slipped out of the house to check without telling them. His big brother's body was floating face down in the pits. John's death was classified as an accident, but it was widely rumored he committed suicide. Steve was only nine years old when it happened.

Dan Naidoo wasn't immune to tragic childhood event's either. His mother had died of cancer in April, two months before John's death. The pastor who also served as grief counselor suggested Steve and Dan spend some time together. Dan's father met with Steve's parents at a church luncheon and invited him to spend a week at the river.

Mr. Naidoo picked Steve up on Friday, June 7. It was a rather ordinary day, but the date was memorable because reports of the O.J. Simpson car chase were on the news the following day. After a Sunday morning breakfast at Perkins restaurant, Mr. Naidoo settled in front of the TV to catch up while Dan and Steve took off in a canoe.

As they passed under the bridge near Rogers Park, two kids jumped off and swamped the canoe. Dan and Steve managed to get afloat, paddling in damp silence for the next hour. The landscape became less crowded and more natural as they traveled further up river. It didn't immediately occur to Dan to take Steve to his secret hidden spring. It was a private place, but he found himself wanting to share it as they got closer.

"There's a hidden creek around the corner which leads to a small spring. You should see it," Dan said.

"Sure, I'd like that," Steve answered.

They arrived to find thick vegetation despite the clearing Dan had done a month earlier. It took a half hour to cut through enough vines to get started. They pulled the canoe into a shallow creek and paddled 300 yards to the spring.

Steve jumped into the water. Dan heard the splash and struggled to keep the canoe upright but when he turned around, Steve was nowhere in sight.

Alligators were common in that part of the river, so Dan began to panic. It was several minutes before he heard Steve.

"Cannonball!" Steve screamed as he jumped from the top of a large oak tree. The splash was so big, it sent a plume ten feet in the air.

"Come on in" he called to Dan, "the alligators won't bite." After checking the area thoroughly, Dan secured the canoe and they swam. It was the first time either of them had relaxed since the death of John or Dan's mother.

They talked for over an hour before heading home. Dan told Steve stories about his mother; Steve talked about John, admitting there was a suicide note. He felt an unwarranted guilt for his brother's death saying, "I should've told my parents about the abandoned quarry, or at least asked John why he was always sad. He was my brother, why were we so different?"

Steve suspected John was gay, but in those days the subject was too awkward to discuss. It was during the conversation with Dan that Steve decided to find out what made John different; _what made him kill himself?_

Only an hour of light remained when they left the spring and rode the current back to the cabin. The day was turning to night by the time the cabin was in sight. Steve's dad was standing on the seawall.

"Hey guys," he shouted as they paddled near. "I thought we might have to come looking for you. It's getting late."

Mr. Davis appeared nervous, so Dan felt sorry as he realized it had only been a couple weeks since John drowned.

"Sorry to worry you Mr. Davis." Dan replied. "We went swimming at a spring near the tourist attraction."

"That's O.K., as long as you had a good time," he said.

"Hey Dad is there a problem?" Steve asked, wondering why his father was at the river instead of working at the medical clinic in Wildwood.

"Everything's fine. There's something I'd like to discuss after you help Daniel put away the canoe."

Steve and Dan carried the canoe to the cabin to place it on a rack. Mr. Naidoo had spent the entire afternoon cooking mullet in the smoker, so he invited Mr. Davis for dinner. They feasted on smoked fish, grits, hush puppies and conk peas. Halfway through the meal Steve asked his dad, "So what was important enough to make you drive sixty miles?"

"I came to take you home. I've enrolled you in a science camp," Mr. Davis replied.

Steve appeared puzzled. Most of the science camp programs were childish, even for someone his age. He gave his dad the "what?" look and waited for an explanation.

"I received a telephone call from Doctor Eckstein. He was a professor at Duke when your mother and I attended. He's at Harvard now, but he has been asked to conduct a Science Camp for kids your age."

"I don't know Dad. Those camps sound lame. I don't want to spend two weeks making paper-mache volcanoes or playing with static electricity."

"This one is different son, it's for gifted students. In fact," he paused with a grin, "It may be more than you can handle."

"Very funny Dad, what's the topic of study?"

"It's the study of DNA. It's titled 'An Introduction to Genomic Science'."

"What's DNA," Dan asked.

"Deoxyribonucleic acid," Steve answered casually.

"Duh," Dan responded while trying to be funny.

"It's the basic code that determines whether you grow up to be a pig or a human," Steve added with a smirk. "Which one are you?"

"Is there another choice?" Dan was still trying to be funny. He knew what Steve meant, but didn't understand his fascination with science.

"When does it start?" Steve asked.

"At 8 a.m. tomorrow in Orlando, so we need to get on the road if you're interested. This is an incredible opportunity son. The same corporation funding Dr. Eckstein's research at Harvard is sponsoring the science camp. They consider it an investment in the future and plan to stay in contact with the students who attend."

"Count me in," Steve replied.

Dan was disappointed his friend would not be spending the week at the river, but summer camp turned out to be a defining moment in Steve's life. Mr. Davis thought the camp would help Steve focus on something other than John's death, but he didn't realize that understanding John is why Steve wanted to go.

The IMICRON Corporation became a second home to Steve. They provided annual follow-up classes, seminars, field trips, and access to state-of-the-art facilities.

\----------------------------------------

By the time he graduated from high school, Steve had already published several articles in science magazines describing the Human Genome Project. The average person had no idea what he was trying to explain back then, but Matt was above average. He realized from reading Steve's articles that a simple DNA test could help unravel the mystery of Haley's past.

Steve had a special arrangement with Weston Laboratories to conduct basic genetic research whenever he wanted with all expenses paid by J. Alfred Weston. Rather than telling the whole incredible story, Matt convinced Steve that Haley would make an excellent genetic test subject because of her unknown adoptive background.

Questions concerning Haley's Indian heritage had haunted her, so it was easy to convince her to participate. Matt was eager to hear back from Steve, but when the results came in, they didn't match anything in the Weston Laboratories data base. In fact Steve said, "The sample must have been contaminated because it didn't even register as the same species."

The results may have appeared inconclusive to Steve, but they told Matt more than he needed to know.

### Chapter 18

The Last Summer

Haley was completely transformed when she returned from Texas. It was more than her appearance. She could take a pleasant stroll through a crowded market or drive a car for the first time. The yellow eyes which made her self-conscious were now an alluring green. Her quiet, shy demeanor was replaced by a joyful effervescent confidence. She no longer felt awkward or out of place.

Anastasias was correct. When she walked into a room, people were drawn to her. If there was a conversation on any subject, she would be in the middle with everyone listening to her. Male or female, it didn't matter. Even before the contact lenses, her sweet personality had made Haley the most loved teenager in the community. Now she was one of the most admired.

Haley had been home schooled her entire life. Public schools weren't a good fit for a girl with glowing eyes, but there was more to it than her appearance. The main reason Becky and Ben decided to educate her at home was to spend more time with her. They also believed the personal attention would produce better results. It did.

Her SAT scores were the highest possible. Tutors helped her become fluent in Spanish and Mandarin Chinese. Haley was attractive, charming, and had a photographic memory, but few people other than Chris noticed how gifted she was until now.

When Haley agreed to let IMICRON publish a series of articles describing her eyes, she became famous within a month. Television talk shows were begging for an interview. Prestigious colleges offered her full scholarships. Brian and Matt watched anxiously as Haley blossomed from a mousy little girl into a poised, self-assured woman.

Chris was more surprised than anyone at Haley's transformation. He thought she was perfect before the changes, but came to realize their relationship was more like a hero rescuing a damsel in distress. Now she was the strong secure partner he would need. He had no idea how strong and secure Haley would become.

Despite or maybe because of the changes in their lives, the summer of 2001 was a special time. Haley, the boys, and a few other friends were at the river the week of July fourth. They spent the entire time swimming or hiking the deep woods near the Adams' family shack.

The holiday fell on a Wednesday. It was still dark when Dan was startled awake by the sound of motorboats idling slowly down the river. They cruised past the cabin and on toward the Gulf of Mexico. The serious anglers were rushing to their favorite fishing holes in time for the rising tide.

Dan jumped out of bed, pulled up his shorts and ran out onto the balcony to see if he recognized anyone.

"Good morning," bellowed Bill Wynn from his sleek fishing boat as it cruised by. He revved the motor to make sure Dan noticed his new toy.

"Good morning Mr. Wynn," he shouted back. "Good luck with the fishing."

"Good morning Bill," Mr. Naidoo shouted from the seawall while pulling in a trap full of blue crabs. He was up every day before dawn tending to his crab traps.

"Mornin Ernie, looks like you've already got a big haul," Bill responded.

"Got five more traps just like it." His face filled with pride. "You bring the fish, I'll bring the crabs, and we'll have a cookout tonight. What do you say?"

"Deal," Bill shouted. "I'll stop by on our way back to work out the details."

"Yabadabadoooo," Mr. Naidoo sang out as the boat pulled away. Fish fry cookouts with the neighbors were common at the Naidoo's place.

Mr. Naidoo called Dan on the balcony, "glad to see you're up Dan. Steve called to say he's running a little late. He said to tell you Linda's coming."

"I'll be right down Dad," Dan replied. The kids had been planning this day for months. Ashley Sagan, Steve's long-time friend from science camp would be there along with Brian's sister Jamie. Jamie was dating Matt while Brian had gathered enough courage to invite Jessica from next door. As for Dan, he had a crush on Steve's little sister Linda. He hadn't seen her in six months.

\----------------------------------------------

Dan remembered the first time he met Linda. The boys were celebrating their seventh birthday at Steve's house. Linda was only six. A year made a big difference at that age. She had already picked out her Halloween costume and was proudly modeling the little nurse's outfit at the party.

Steve had requested a piñata, so he was given the stick to break it. Matt, Brian, Chris and Dan were trying to misdirect him. Dan received a nasty rap on the head when he got too close. Steve's mom came to the rescue, but Linda applied the bandage. Dan called her Nurse Linda ever since.

\----------------------------------------------

It was a little before 10 a.m. when Steve and Linda arrived. Dan was getting fishing gear out of the old bus when Steve surprised him from behind as he liked to do. Steve took enormous joy in scaring the wits out of people.

"Gotcha," He hollered. Fishing rods, sinkers, hooks, and other assorted gear went flying as Dan fell back on his rear bouncing down the bus steps onto the ground.

Steve was laughing so hard, he fell down the steps too. As they wrestled, Dan looked up and there stood Linda. It wasn't Nurse Linda, but Whooooa Linda! Her jeans didn't fit like that before.

"Hello Dan," she said in a sultry voice. As his mouth fell open, he stared at her, mind blown, body paralyzed with excitement. Steve applied a playful slap to the back of Dan's head and whispered, "Get your act together, that's my little sister."

Dan jumped to his feet, "Hello Linda!" It was the first time since their seventh birthday he didn't call her Nurse Linda. Dan thought, this is turning out to be a great day!

The boys had it carefully planned. The goal was to paddle five miles up-river to the Weeki Wachee Springs tourist attraction.

Chris brought two canoes, Mr. Naidoo provided two, and Jessica brought one from next door. The expedition was geared up and ready to go after lunch. They planned to swim at a couple springs along the way, then float back with the current. The boys knew it would be a difficult slough for a casual afternoon excursion, but picturing the girls on a hot day in wet bikinis provided more than enough motivation.

Chapter 19

### The Hidden Spring

The group set off after lunch and stopped thirty minutes later at Rogers Park. It was crowded with teenagers enjoying a party atmosphere. Brian's friend Jessica didn't want to leave, but the others were ready to continue after a ten minute rest.

The forest canopy grew thick as they traveld further up river. The waters narrowed, appearing like a blue and green trail in a dimly lit tunnel. The group was getting weary fighting the current when Jessica began to complain.

"This is boring. I'm getting tired. Let's go back to the park."

"There's a beautiful spring only a little further. Does anyone want to go?" Dan asked.

"Is that the place you took me when John died?" Steve asked.

"Yes," Dan answered.

"That place is spectacular, we should definitely go," said Steve.

"I'd love to see it," Linda added. "This area is really beautiful!"

Chris, Haley, Matt and Jamie agreed.

"O.K., looks like I'm outvoted," Jessica conceded.

Dan barely recognized the area when they arrived at the creek. An old tree had fallen and a large limb was across the entrance.

"I don't see a creek, where's the creek?" Jessica asked impatiently.

Dan answered, "Jessica, It's hidden. Only those of us who know how to find it can get there. There are no roads and I haven't seen anyone else there."

Dan didn't want to explain how he found the spring after his mother died. This was a special place for him, but unlike the few close friends he had taken before he was afraid Jessica wasn't going to appreciate it. In fact, it began to dawn on Dan that a trip up the overgrown creek with a multitude of bugs, snakes and alligators might be something few girls would enjoy.

Steve said to Linda, "This is Dan's secret place, so you guys get to go first. It's your job to knock down spiders and snakes."

"Steve!" Dan shouted disapprovingly. Then he whispered, "Shut up!" The entrance was completely concealed by vegetation with a large limb hanging a couple feet above the water.

Dan explained to Linda, "Grab the limb, lean back into the canoe like you're doing limbo, and pull the canoe under. Then I'll do the same. It should be clearer on the other side. I'll propel us forward while you sweep your paddle back and forth in case there are spider webs."

Linda didn't say a word. She boldly grabbed the limb, pulling the canoe under without hesitation.

As Dan passed under the limb, he looked up to see a garden spider as wide as a softball. It was less than 10 inches from his face. He wondered why Linda hadn't screamed or knocked it down. The canoe slid forward a few more feet to avoid the web. Dan looked back at the spider and heard Linda say, "Isn't it beautiful?"

It was, but that wasn't the reaction he expected. "Are you O.K. with this?" he asked. She smiled, nodded yes. "I'm having fun."

Then it was Brian and Jessica's turn. Dan started to use his paddle to clear the spider web, but Linda insisted it would be a shame to tear up the beautiful web which sparkled with dew while swaying gently in the breeze.

Dan warned Jessica to avoid the spider by staying on her back until she passed completely under the limb. He was a little surprised how quickly the front of the canoe and Jessica's knees appeared. As she emerged from under the branch, Jessica popped up like a cork. The spider landed on the top of her head, ran across her face and down her arm to safety.

The people a few miles away at Rogers Park probably heard the scream. The words Jessica used to describe her displeasure would not be recognized in polite conversation. The canoe was back under the limb and heading for home in less than one minute. At that point, Brian was little more than a passenger. The others heard him call out, "we'll see you back at the house," as he and Jessica disappeared.

Dan apologized, "I'm sorry Linda. This was a bad idea."

Linda's face began to twitch. It looked like she was going to cry. She bent over as if to start bawling and let loose the most infectious giggle. Dan started chuckling as they both laughed hysterically until tears ran down their cheeks. She managed to speak a few words, "Did you ... laugh, laugh..., see her face?"

When they stopped laughing, Dan said, "You've got a dark side."

"Maybe," she said. "But that was sooo funny. Steve said this is the first time he has seen Brian interested in a girl. Brian's first love is nature, so I wanted to make sure Jessica and nature were properly introduced."

Chris and Haley had passed Dan and Linda and were waiting at the spring. When the entire group arrived Steve gasped, "Wow! This place is even more impressive than I remembered."

The spring was an iridescent blue hole, less than 50 yards across with no discernible bottom. The quiet stillness was broken only by the melody of a Carolina Wren. Giant oak trees on all sides stretched out, completely covering it like an entrance to a magical realm on a beautiful alien world.

The couples rested a few minutes before swimming for an hour. Steve repeatedly climbed a tall tree to jump in with a huge splash, "Cannonball!"

Linda and Dan sat on the shore together.

"Now I understand why you kept this place a secret," she said. "Steve told me it has a special meaning for you. He said you found it after your mother died."

"Yes," Dan admitted. He felt surprisingly comfortable with Linda, opening up in a way he hadn't with anyone else.

"I haven't told this story, not even to Steve. I found this place soon after my mom died and a month before your brother John died. I was depressed.

Dad kept saying how much mom loved the river. He said her spirit would always be here. One day when I was feeling alone, I paddled our little Jon boat further up river than I'd ever gone until I was too tired to go any further.

I tied the boat to a low hanging limb and cried for the first time since mom's death. When I was getting ready to head home, I noticed water flowing from the woods into the river. I followed the creek to this spring. I swear, it was full of manatees.

It had been cold that winter, so the creatures must have been attracted by the warm spring water. One of them swam right up to the boat and looked up at me. I know it sounds crazy, but I believe it was a message of comfort from my mother."

"It doesn't sound crazy at all," Linda said softly. She leaned in toward Dan and he moved toward her. They kissed. "I think I'm falling in love," Dan whispered. Then as if on cue, a solitary manatee appeared and looked at them. The manatee was gone in an instant, but Dan and Linda felt something very special had happened.

The fish fry was well underway when the couples arrived back at the house. Mr. Naidoo waved to them from his place of duty in front of a large pan of hot oil. He was serving up huge piles of fish and hush puppies while Bill Wynn was standing only a few feet away tending to a pot of boiling crabs. Other neighbors brought grits, greens, coleslaw, and cold drinks.

As they picked up paper plates to get in the serving line, Mr. Naidoo said "We were starting to get worried. Brian and Jessica got back a couple hours ago."

Linda said, "Sorry Mr. Naidoo. Dan took us to the most wonderful little secluded spring. We were having so much fun, I didn't want to leave."

Bill Wynn chimed in with a chuckle. "That isn't the way Jessica described it. She said it was the most god forsaken place, then added something about a big-ass spider. She was so distraught that Brian spent all afternoon comforting her."

Mr. Wynn looked over at Mr. Naidoo and winked.

The couples carried their meals next door, climbing up on the deck above the boat slip where Brian and Jessica were sitting. Dan was worried that Jessica would be angry about the spider, but it turned out she really enjoyed the canoe trip. All she really wanted was to be alone with Brian. Her little tantrum worked.

Everyone ate, talked, and watched the boats go by as the sun began to set. Jessica said she wanted to be a fashion designer, Haley was interested in archaeology, and Linda was already preparing to be a veterinarian. Their excitement was obvious.

It seemed as though everyone except Dan was eager to move on to the next phase in their lives. Dan didn't want anything to change. His friends wanted to make a mark on the world. That worried Dan because he was afraid of being left behind. He couldn't imagine anything better than what they had, this unspoiled moment with family, neighbors and friends.

Chris, Steve, Matt, and Brian appeared to be driven from birth with a desire to do something spectacular. Dan felt they were moving too fast, wasting the most precious time of their lives. He began to think out loud.

"It's like you guys are obsessed with changing the world. Ever since the lightning struck our boat ..."

Steve started to laugh. "Here we go again. What is it with you and the lightning? You're obsessed with the lightning! Nobody died, we're doing fine so get over it."

Dan couldn't let it go. "I'm just saying you guys have always been ambitious, but the lightning strike changed you! It's like you've each been given a purpose. You're like the Tin Man, Lion, or Scarecrow in the Wizard of Oz."

"Well then," Steve flashed a playful smile. "If I'm the Tin Man in the Wizard of Oz, I guess that makes you... **Dorothy**?" His face lit up with delight.

A sense of panic washed over Dan. He made a serious blunder and was in danger of being nicknamed Dorothy for the rest of his natural life. He had to distract Steve fast, but couldn't change the subject to save himself.

"It seems like you guys are restless, never satisfied with the way things are. Can't we just slow down and enjoy the moment? I mean our lives are pretty good aren't they?"

"Yea," Steve looked off thoughtfully, "Everyone isn't as lucky as we are. We come from good homes with good friends, and we live in a rich country. I want to make the world a better place, don't you? Besides, it isn't all work. We've had a nice day. We're enjoying the company of these beautiful ladies while watching a spectacular sunset."

He looked directly at Dan and said, "You're the one talking shop."

There was a pronounced pause before he added in a voice like a wicked witch, " **Dorothy**."

Chapter 20

### Revelations

Dan and the others met at Becky's for breakfast the following morning. The reaction of Steve's friend Ashley Sagan to the restaurant was priceless. Even before they entered, she commented how unusual it was to find such a charming restaurant in a small community.

An engraved sign on the front door read:

"Please knock and wait to be greeted before entering our home."

Customers had no choice. The door was locked, so nobody walked in unaccompanied. An important part of the experience was the greeting.

The door opened to reveal Becky wearing a gown like something straight from the pages of Gone with the Wind. She was stunning in the finest tradition of Scarlett O'Hara.

It was impossible to predict what she was going to say, but her words were delivered with a sweet Southern drawl that transported visitors' consciousness to another time and place.

Ashley's mouth dropped open from delight, but once she entered the front door her amusement changed to awe.

There was a sense of euphoria that everyone who entered the house experienced. The architecture was exquisite and the décor was flawless, but this was a pleasant out of body sensation. Like a near death experience, guests felt a floating sensation as if watching from above as they walked across the room.

Psychics, parapsychologists, even scientists came to study the phenomenon. They said it might have something to do with a small device above the entry, but no one could explain the intoxicating effect.

Becky seated the teens next to the window. She had already set an extra table to accommodate the large group.

Ms. Shelby stopped by to say hello and take the order. Ashley, Linda and Jamie were standing at the window admiring the garden. Chris, Steve, Matt, and Dan were discussing Wimbledon tennis, so Brian took the opportunity to talk with Haley.

"Do you remember anything about your birth parents?" he asked.

"No, I was just a baby," Haley replied casually. "Mom said my mother was a Hopi Indian. She said a recessive gene might be the cause of my blond hair and pale complexion. Even the doctors can't explain the reason for my unusual eyes."

"I don't mean to be insensitive, but do you ever wonder why your mother abandoned you?"

"Yes of course, but I wouldn't call it abandoned." Haley sounded a little defensive. "In all probability it was because of my eyes. I think my birth parents did what they believed was best for me. They realized Ben and Becky respected the Hopi culture and could provide the care required by a special needs child."

"Do you consider yourself a special needs child?" Brian asked. He knew this was getting a little too personal.

"I did but not anymore. If anything, I think of it as my superpower. Don't laugh at me but I sometimes dream I'm queen of an ancient civilization." She smiled wistfully, scrunching her face with a puzzled expression, "Why are you asking all these questions? You've known me for five years."

A chill ran down Brian's spine. He realized Haley was getting suspicious, but wasn't afraid of her any longer. He wanted to tell her everything at that moment.

"Haley, there's something I want to give you and a thousand things I want to tell you, but I can't do it here. Since Chris is going back to Wildwood for Wednesday church meetings tomorrow, will you come out to the shack with Jamie before lunch?"

Haley seemed excited. "This sounds very mysterious. If it's not too busy at the restaurant, I'll come."

Chapter 21

### The Awakening

Childhood memories had caused Brian to shun Haley, but Jamie was Haley's best friend.

It was a little before 9 a.m. and raining when Jamie stopped by the restaurant to give Haley a ride to the cabin. The trip down the 7.6 mile muddy road off Pine Island Drive to the Adams' shack was rough. Haley was afraid they would get stuck, so she was relieved when the parking area finally came into view.

"This is strange," Jamie commented. "Matt Jackson's jeep is here, but I don't see my parent's SUV." She parked the truck before they headed out on foot for the final mile. The rain had stopped, but the thunder and lightning was getting worse.

"Brian sounded very mysterious. He didn't say why he wanted me to come out here today. Do you have any idea?" Haley asked.

"I think he wants to apologize for the way he's treated you. He's been such a jerk. His behavior doesn't make sense. He's usually a very nice person, but don't tell him I said so."

"I like Brian, always have," Haley said. "I can't explain it, but I've felt a strong connection to him from the first time we met. Even when he was being mean to me, I understood."

Haley paused to think, then continued talking. "I didn't actually understand, but somehow knew he had his reasons for acting the way he did. Does that make sense?"

"Not really," Jamie replied. "I just hope this isn't one of Brian's jokes."

Matt was at the shack with Brian waiting on the porch when Jamie and Haley arrived.

"Where are Mom and Dad?" Jamie asked.

"They went to Archbold." Brian answered.

"You know they wouldn't approve of you inviting a girl out here when they're gone. So why do it?" Jamie asked. She knew Brian's behavior was unpredictable when it came to Haley. Hopefully he wasn't going to do something stupid.

"We want to talk to Haley in private without anyone else around." Brian answered.

At that moment, a bolt of lightning hit a tree less than three hundred yards away. The thunder shook the ground like an earthquake. Jamie and Haley ran to the building for protection.

The shack was an eyesore, but it was sturdy, waterproof, and protected by a lightning rod affixed to the top of a tall cypress tree. The furnishings in the building consisted of five hand-carved wooden chairs, a rustic dining table, and two sets of bunkbeds. After everyone was seated, they fidgeted for several minutes like kids at their first dance.

"These chairs are nice. Where did you find them?" Haley asked Brian.

"Our dad made them." he answered. Then the awkward silence returned. It lasted a few minutes but felt like an hour.

Jamie was fuming and growing angrier by the moment. "O.K., I've had enough! As soon as the rain lets up, we're leaving unless you tell us right now why we're here."

Brian took a deep breath. He was speaking to Jamie, but made repeated eye contact with Haley as he spoke.

"Do you remember the old man at Archbold who told us those stories?"

Jamie braced herself as if preparing for a punch in the stomach.

"Yes," she answered.

"Do you remember his eyes when he took off his sunglasses?"

Jamie shook her head. "You're telling me you mistreated Haley for five years because she has an eye condition similar to that old man?"

"No," he answered. He looked at Haley and the words burst out...

" **I was afraid of you. I think there's a reason why you dream of an ancient civilization. You are the reincarnated queen."**

"What?" Jamie shouted, turning red in the face. "This is one of your jokes. How could you be so cruel? It's not funny!" Tears were running down her cheek. "We're leaving!"

"Wait," Haley said as she touched Jamie's hand. "I'd like to hear what he has to say."

"You don't have to play this game," Jamie said, still sniffling. Haley smiled and said, "I want to."

Brian started from the beginning. He repeated the whole story the way Archie told it. It didn't seem like Jamie could be more upset, but when Brian described the recent events where Anastasias gave him the golden medallion, she jumped to her feet, slapped him hard across the face, and ran out to the porch.

"Stop it! Just stop it! This isn't funny!" she shouted.

Haley went after her. She put her arm around Jamie and described the dreams she had been having her whole life. She said Brian's story was fascinating and she wanted to see the medallion.

Jamie stopped crying long enough to laugh a little and say, "You're as crazy as my brother." They went back inside where Brian and Matt were waiting.

Brian opened the box in which the jeweler had placed the medallion. He separated the tissue paper to reveal the intricate Etz Chayim engraving.

"Ohhhh," both Jamie and Haley sighed at the artifact's stunning beauty. It was more than an intricately carved gold medallion. It glowed like Haley's eyes.

"Touch it," Matt said to Jamie. It was ice cold, but had a pulse like a living organism.

"It feels like it's alive," Jamie whispered.

"Let me," Haley said as she reached for the medallion.

"Wait," Brian pulled the box away. "Anastasias gave me specific instructions. Put your left hand out, palm up." He lifted the medallion out of the box and placed it with the engraved side down against Haley's palm. The pattern fit perfectly in her hand like a tree with the branches aligned with her fingers.

When the medallion made contact, her fingers grasped it so fast they made a snapping sound like a whip. Brian and Matt instantly fell to the floor in pain. The Etz Chayim scars on their feet appeared to be glowing. Jamie tried to scream, but she could only groan. She was frozen in place.

The room filled with static electricity like a thousand fireflies. Haley's eyes were glowing so bright the light was escaping around the edges of her contact lenses. Her long hair was extended in all directions, writhing like snakes on the head of Medusa. Her body was contorted and shaking as if having a seizure. Jamie tried to hold her, but Haley's body levitated and floated out of reach. It was the last thing Jamie remembered before blacking out.

Over an hour had passed when Jamie, Brian and Matt woke up. The first thing they saw was Haley's smiling face. She looked different somehow, like an angel.

"What happened?" Jamie asked.

"You fainted." Haley answered. She glanced sympathetically toward Brian and Matt. "How do your feet feel?"

Brian glanced at Matt and answered, "Better, but that was painful! I hope this isn't going to happen every time you touch the medallion."

"The artifact is part of me now," Haley replied. "It won't hurt you again."

Jamie was still trying to understand. She asked Haley, "What happened to you? Are you O.K.?"

Haley looked a little puzzled. "I'm not sure, but I know where I need to go for answers."

Jamie sat in stunned silence wondering what Haley meant by where she needed to go. Then she realized, this isn't a joke.

Chapter 22

### The Trip

There were many rumors circulating describing a private community hidden in the dense forests of southern Highlands County. Some said it was occupied by a religious cult. Others claimed it was a secret government compound. A few even thought it was an alien outpost, the first beachhead of a planned invasion.

Dan wasn't gullible enough to believe the latter, but new satellite image technology had revealed intense development in the area. What could it be? It was a rural region with ten times more alligators than people.

Haley wanted to go on a day trip to explore the area. Chris, Steve, and Dan were excited by the idea, but Brian and Matt were nervous. They suspected Haley knew more about the area than she was saying.

Dan borrowed his father's Ford Explorer on Saturday morning. The boys stopped at Becky's for breakfast.

Haley had already eaten, but joined them at the table. Dan was the first to notice a change in her appearance. He thought of Haley as a mousy little girl who had morphed into a beautiful teenager within weeks of her return from Houston. Today it was unnerving to see another transformation which occurred virtually overnight.

The teenager was gone, replaced by a stunning self-assured woman. She even looked taller, but Dan wasn't the only one who noticed. Steve kept staring at her, and Chris was practically drooling.

Dan was too freaked-out to drive the car when they finished breakfast. Brian was familiar with the route, so he drove the longest leg of the trip to the Archbold Biological Station. Haley was sitting between Chris and Brian in the front seat. Brian kept watching Haley, especially when they approached Archbold. Chris seemed relieved when Dan took over the driving and Brian moved to the back seat. They continued traveling south on a deserted section of old State Route 8.

"Are we lost?" Steve asked repeatedly. "Are you sure we aren't lost?" After reassuring him many times, Dan also began to wonder.

They turned right on Old Venus Road. It wasn't much more than a dusty white trail. The tree canopy completely blocked out the sun while the heavy shade provided a welcome relief from the long hot drive.

After five minutes, Haley said, "we missed the turn."

"I didn't see anything" Dan argued, "and I was watching closely."

They drove a few minutes longer and arrived at a dead end on a small waterway. It must have been Fish Eating Creek.

"So much for the mysterious compound," Matt laughed. Chris, Steve, and Dan didn't know what he was talking about, but they could tell he was relieved.

"I told you we were lost," Steve crowed.

"We're close," Haley assured everyone. "We passed it a half-mile back on the left side of the road.

"I didn't see it." Dan said emphatically. "Did anybody else see it?"

Steve, Chris, Matt and Brian shrugged innocently. Dan turned the car around and drove slowly looking for a side road, gate, sign or anything that might indicate an entrance. An afternoon rain shower had produced a mist which rose from the leaves like dancing ghosts, while a thousand tiny rays of flickering sunlight pierced the dense canopy. Steve continued to insist they were lost, and then starting cracking jokes about man eating aliens.

"There," Haley called out, pointing to a cleared area. Dan pulled the car off the road. The boys followed Haley for a closer look. There was a six-inch wide sheet of paved road protruding from underneath a wall of moss and vines. A further inspection revealed an immense concrete gate camouflaged to hide the entrance from view.

"Wow, this looks like something out of a James Bond movie!" Dan said.

"What makes you think this is it?" Steve asked Haley. "It doesn't look like anything to me."

"This is definitely it," she replied. "See, there is a sign."

A small obscure placard read:

Orion Institute

Private Property

Ring bell for service

Haley reached toward a button located beneath the sign. Steve grabbed her arm.

"What are you doing?" he asked. Haley smiled at him.

"Don't you want to know what is in there?"

"Well yea, but what are you going to say?" he asked sarcastically.

"I'm going to tell them who we are, and we would like a tour."

Steve shook his head and chuckled, "O.K. then."

Haley was solemn, but Steve was smirking and acting as if it was a joke. Haley pressed the button and a woman's voice responded from a rusty speaker, "May I help you?" The boys were giggling like little kids, but Haley answered calmly.

"I'm Haley King with five friends. We've come to tour the property."

The voice responded, "Yes Ms. King, we've been expecting you. The Administrator wants to meet you personally. He'll be there in a few minutes."

Steve, Chris and Dan were beginning to suspect Brian had arranged the entire trip as part of an elaborate hoax, but stories of an alien outpost seemed less outrageous to Brian and Matt.

Haley was calm and composed. She stepped forward with confidence as the camouflaged entrance began to move.

"Follow me men," she said with a laugh.

Chapter 23

### The ORION Institute

The enormous concrete gate must have weighed several tons, but it seemed to float on air. It swung open to reveal a well-dressed man standing on a smooth polished roadway.

He had a pencil thin mustache, jet black hair and appeared to be in his mid-fifties, but had the posture of a much younger man. His face lit up with a big smile when he saw Haley. She threw her arms around him and they embraced.

Matt and Brian watched nervously. Chris was also beginning to wonder what was happening. "Who are you?" he asked.

"I am Claude Gautier, Director of the Institute and Haley's cousin."

"We're cousins?" Haley asked. "That's wonderful!"

"Distant cousins but yes, I'm told we're related."

Haley's expression radiated with joy.

"Then I have a million questions," she said.

"We will have plenty of time for that later," Claude replied. "First things first. I want to show off the institute. We don't get many visitors."

He was standing next to a modest vehicle which looked similar to the trams seen at amusement parks, but there was one major difference. There were no wheels! Dan bent over and looked underneath. Nothing was touching the ground.

"What's holding this thing up?" he asked.

"A simple diamagnetic gravity vortex," Claude answered in a matter of fact tone. "People have been using anti-gravity since well before the Egyptian Pyramids."

"Not in my neighborhood," Dan mumbled.

"Climb aboard and we'll get started." Claude took Haley's hand and guided her onto the front seat next to him. The others scrambled onto the remaining seats.

As soon as the vehicle began to move, a force began pressing against them like a foam cushion. It was claustrophobic; Haley was having difficulty breathing and began to panic. Claude immediately stopped the vehicle.

"Please forgive me. I forgot to describe the inertia dampening system. It's a safety device like seatbelts, but feels like you've fallen into a bowl of pudding. Most people find it pleasant if they stay calm and don't try to make sudden moves, but even breathing can be difficult if you panic. I think you will love it when you get acclimated!"

The boys in the back seats discovered the closer any object came to another, the slower it would move. Before long, they were punching at each other and laughing hysterically. It was impossible to hit anything. Haley turned around with a look of humiliation on her face.

"Please stop," she pleaded.

Claude turned to her and whispered, "Don't be embarrassed. Most of our visitors act a little silly on their first ride; watch this."

He accelerated to sixty mph in an instant and they felt the strange buoyancy like bouncing on a trampoline. They squealed an uncontrollable "wheeeeeee!" until Claude slowed the vehicle a moment later.

The vegetation along the way was equally impressive: Wisteria, Frangipani, Sweet alyssum, Sweet pea, Four o'clocks, Gardenia, Lilly of the valley, Jasmine, Rose, and many plants even Brian couldn't identify.

The kaleidoscope of colors was beyond anything they had ever seen, and the fragrance was hypnotic. Everyone was captivated, but Brian was squirming in his seat.

"This is unbelievable!" he said. "How do you get all of these plants to grow so well together? Accounting for the differences in water and light requirements alone should make it impossible."

"Selective genetic manipulation," Claude answered. "We have many surprises here. How old would you say I am?"

"I don't know, I'd guess around fifty five," Brian answered.

"I am ninety-three."

Brian looked more closely at Claude and asked, "How stupid do you think I am? That isn't possible, sixty maybe, but there's no way you are ninety-three years old."

"It's true," Claude said.

"So I suppose you're going to tell us your genes have been altered like the plants." Steve said with a laugh.

Claude began to explain why he appeared so young:

\----------------------------------------------

"No, but you'll be even more blown away by the real reason. When my father died in France in 1926, I was given a journal passed down through eighteen generations. It contained the writings of a little known explorer, Henri Jacques.

He claimed to have visited the New World in 1472. His journal described native people in intricate detail. He wrote, the people here don't grow old. I have concluded there is something in the water where they bathe."

My family considered it the ramblings of an imaginative old man. They said the journal was a family heirloom and nothing more, but I believed the stories were true. Henri Jacques came to America twenty years before Columbus and discovered the Fountain of Youth.

I set off to trace his steps in 1928 when I was twenty years old. The journal led me to Florida. I was prepared to give up a year later when I became ill, but a friend mentioned an old newspaper article published in the Sebring American. The piece described a region in intricate detail south of Lake Placid, Florida. It sounded exactly like the terrain Jacques described in his journal.

It was January 1930, the winter tourist season. The only room available was at a grand hotel, the Kenilworth Lodge in Sebring. It turned out to be my good fortune. I met a young man there named Donald Roebling. At first he laughed at me. Then he said I was a fool, but after a few drinks together he told me where to look.

He said, 'You aren't the first to come in search of the Fountain of Youth, but more people have gone missing than returned; none found anything worthwhile. It is a dark primeval wilderness full of mosquitos, alligators and poisonous snakes. Locals call the area hajo, the Seminole word for crazy. If you are determined to risk your life, they say it's a day's walk west of Venus near Fish Eating Creek. Local Indians consider it sacred, so if the wilderness doesn't kill you the natives might.'

I still had a bad cough, but drove south to a bridge on county road 731, then paddled one mile up the river in an inflatable raft before continuing on foot. I wandered aimlessly in the jungle for hours before setting up a base-camp under a strange tree. I returned to town briefly for supplies, but spent my nights under that tree. I began to notice improvement in my health within weeks. It felt like I had found the Fountain of Youth, but it wasn't the fountain."

\----------------------------------------------

"Then what's the point of the story?" Brian asked. "How do you stay young?"

Claude stopped the vehicle in front a very old tree. "It isn't much to look at, but this is the tree I was telling you about," he said.

They were standing at the base of an immense ancient tree almost barren of leaves, twisted and warped.

"Etz Chayim," Chris nervously whispered. "Etz Chayim," Steve echoed. "My god," Haley gasped. "It looks like the pattern on the medallion."

Claude was surprised by their response. "What? I know it's ugly, but it isn't that bad! I call it the Tree of Life. It's my own source of youth. This is the only tree of its kind, and we have not been able to clone or reproduce it. It emits a gas which slows nuclear DNA damage by impeding the deterioration of telomeres."

Claude looked back at Steve, "You know what I'm talking about."

"I thought that was just a theory," Steve replied.

"Nope, it is true." Claude said. "This is where the stories of the Fountain of Youth originated. Except it's not a fountain, it's a tree. The early European explorers got it wrong. When they saw the natives swimming in a nearby lake, they mistakenly concluded it was the reason for their youthful appearance, but now we know better."

He laughed and gestured with his hands. "So everybody, breathe deeply."

"That's an amusing story," Steve responded. "You don't really expect us to believe it do you?"

"I understand your skepticism, but we have many wonders to show you. I'll convince you before the day is over. For example, have you noticed how cool it is? It must be close to triple digits at Archbold right now, but it's around 72 degrees Fahrenheit here. Why do you think that is?"

Brian spoke up. "The trees here reflect a large amount of heat producing light, and they transpire water through their leaves which provides an additional evaporative cooling effect."

"Good answer Brian, but that is only part of the solution. The woods outside this compound are every bit as thick, but the ambient temperature is still around 84 degrees Fahrenheit." Claude stopped the vehicle and led them to a tree with large black leaves covered with white dust.

"This is unlike anything I've ever seen," Brian said, his voice raised with excitement.

"That's because it was produced in our laboratory." Claude grasped a limb and pulled it toward them. "It's based on ancient technology. Touch a leaf."

They each felt a leaf and were astounded. It was ice cold. It wasn't dust on the leaves; it was frost.

"This tree uses a process called thermosynthesis. It is similar to photosynthesis except it absorbs heat rather than light and converts it into chemical energy. Leaves of the tree serve as cooling coils and prevailing winds function as the fan. We call them 'Nature's Air Conditioner,' even though they aren't natural. There are over one hundred on the property and keep us cool in summer."

"But do they make it cold here in the winter?" Brian asked.

"No," Claude answered. "They are deciduous and become dormant when temperatures drop below 50 degrees Fahrenheit."

From that moment on, Haley and the others felt like kindergartners on a field trip to the Kennedy Space Center, eyes wide open in wonder and anticipation of what would come next.

Chapter 24

### Future Tech

As the group approached the main complex, enormous sleek dome structures interconnected by long curvilinear passageways arched gracefully below the tree-line. They gazed in awe at a small elliptical city. Dozens of circular buildings were connected like tinker toys. The design was so extraordinary it could be a considered a work of art.

The structures had huge windows blending seamlessly into the natural landscape of tropical plants, streams, and waterfalls. The complex provided a fleeting glimpse into a world imagined only in their dreams.

"Are the buildings made of steel?" Dan asked.

"They're made of flexible concrete which is stronger than steel, a better insulator, and much more abundant. In place of cement, we use a bonding agent with a molecular structure similar to rubber. Photovoltaic arrays have been built into windows and onto the skin of the buildings."

"So the buildings generate their own power?" Haley asked.

"Yes, they do." Claude answered. He pointed to a large tree. "But you may have also noticed a number of these in the complex."

"Yes," Brian said before Haley had time to respond. "They are exactly alike. I wouldn't have noticed except the leaf patterns are too mathematically consistent to be natural."

"Good eye Brian. The residential buildings are self-sustained, but these particular trees are solar collectors fabricated from organic materials. They are one hundred times more efficient than commercially available solar panels. They provide supplemental energy for our laboratories and manufacturing units."

The whole complex had the look and quality of a futuristic resort. Children were running and playing. Adults were laughing and talking. Some of them were at an extravagant swimming pool, others were strolling through the gardens, and still others were gathered together in a cozy dining area.

"Who are all these people?" Haley asked.

"Students and faculty, they live here." Claude replied. "We have over one hundred families living on campus."

"Is this a school?" Matt asked.

"Technically, we're a fully accredited research institution. We teach students as young as six and offer advanced college degree programs as diverse as Religious Studies, Theoretical Astrophysics, and Biomedical Engineering."

Matt grimaced. "I have never heard of this place. How is that possible?"

"We keep a low profile." Claude answered. "Students don't apply to the ORION Institute, we recruit. We search the globe for gifted people of all ages and we offer what they need."

"It sounds a little mysterious." Haley said. "What do you mean by 'we offer what they need'?"

"Education, food, housing and entertainment are free. Students are able to completely dedicate their time to study and self-improvement without the burden of student loans or bureaucratic paperwork. The one requirement is while you're here, you contribute your particular talents to the workload and sign a non-disclosure agreement."

Matt rolled his eyes, shook his head and moaned.

"What's the matter Matt?" Claude asked.

"It sounds like a Communist commune, and like most Communist systems it won't work. Instead of sharing the wealth, a few rich and powerful people at the top control those below. That's a more likely explanation for why this place is secret."

"Why are you being so rude?" Haley asked Matt. "Claude has gone out of his way to be nice to us."

"It's O.K." Claude told Haley. "I'm surprised it happened this soon, but I would be disappointed if Matt didn't challenge us."

Claude looked straight at Matt. "The ORION Institute could make vast profits from any of the technologies you have seen today, but we haven't applied for a single patent or copyright.

Our mission is not to make profits, and it isn't about politics. We want to create a new world civilization that will eliminate war, poverty, hunger and debt. It will require a change in human behavior which will be even more difficult than creating new technology."

Claude could see the glazed expressions on everyone's face. It was a lot to process in one afternoon. He could tell they were overwhelmed.

"Let's eat," he said cheerfully.

The sweet fragrance of Tea Olive blossoms and the peaceful sounds of a nearby waterfall relaxed the mood as Claude escorted them into a small domed building.

Once inside, a wide stairway led down to a small subterranean dining area. The room was well-lighted even though it was below ground with no windows.

"What's this room's source of light, and what keeps it from becoming a swimming pool or floating away?" Steve asked. (The high water level in South Florida made building below ground impractical.)

"The room is illuminated by our own form of chemiluminescence," Claude replied. "In simple terms, the whole room is a light bulb. The concrete is magnetically balanced to float in the wet soil like a submarine in water. The exterior walls are water-tight, but porous to air."

It was clear from Claude's tone he was getting tired.

"If there are no further questions, we have prepared a special meal for you."

Chris couldn't wait any longer to ask the one question which had been bothering him from the beginning of the tour. "There is one thing I've been meaning to ask. How did you know Haley was coming?"

Claude looked a little surprised. He thought all five boys knew a lot more about Haley.

"Anastasias told us Brian had the medallion. Then when Brian gave it to Haley, it sent us a signal." Claude chuckled, "Kinda like ET phone home."

Claude glanced at Haley with adoration, "We knew it wouldn't be long before she returned."

Chapter 25

### The Partial Truth

Chris, Steve and Dan sat in stunned silence. They had no idea what Claude was talking about. Haley confirmed Claude's story with a gentle nod to Chris. He didn't understand, but wasn't going to embarrass her in front of her new friend. This was something he wanted to hear directly from Haley.

Steve cast an angry glare at Brian but held his tongue. Dan didn't want to look stupid, so he smiled and tried to convey an appearance of understanding.

Whatever the reasons, no one asked Claude any more questions. Brian and Matt fidgeted in their chairs, wondering how they would explain to Chris, Steve and Dan why they weren't told about Haley.

The awkward silence was soon interrupted by an offer of prime rib, chicken, or fish meals. The food was delicious and the beef, chicken and fish were tender with a curiously consistent texture.

When they finished, Claude explained the dinner did not contain a single gram of beef, poultry or fish. It consisted entirely of genetically manipulated plant protein.

The sun was setting, so Dan called his father to let him know that he and his friends would arrive home late. Mr. Naidoo volunteered to call the other parents.

A soft cool rain fell as they climbed onto the tram in the dark. The vehicle had no roof, but the dampening field kept them dry on the ride to the exit. The entire roadway was lit by chemiluminescence. Fireflies dotted the woods and the sweet fragrance of night blooming jasmine served as dessert.

The enormous gate was already open and the path to the car was lighted. Chris was the first to shake Claude's hand. Claude said he was looking forward to seeing them again in September, but Chris was too tired and confused to ask what he meant. Chris smiled and thanked Claude for the tour and being kind to Haley.

Steve, Matt, Brian and Dan followed Chris to the car. Haley stayed behind for a moment for a private conversation with Claude. It seemed as if they had known each other for years. They hugged goodbye and Haley joined the others in the car.

All of the boys looked like they were about to explode. "That was incredible!" Dan said as the engine started. "It was way better than Disney World or Universal Studios! I've got a million questions."

"You are not the only one," Steve added, his voice cracking with exasperation. "Who is Anastasias, what is the medallion, what is this place... really? Hell, I'm not sure this isn't a dream!"

Haley, Matt, and Brian tried to answer at the same time, but then Brian put up his hands and said, "Wait! This whole thing started with me, so be quiet and let me explain."

Brian was careful to eliminate the most fantastic parts of the story like Haley being a queen or having unknown powers. He still was not sure Steve, Chris, and Dan were ready for the uncensored version. He explained how he met Anastasias at the Archbold Biological Station when he was ten years old and that the ancient Nina Nizhoni buried a vault containing advanced technologies.

"If that's true, it could explain some of the things we saw at the ORION Institute," Steve commented.

"Exactly, Anastasias said the Institute is trying to learn more about the civilization, but can't get access to the most sensitive information in the library."

(Haley and Matt listened quietly. They were impressed at how Brian was omitting certain details to avoid telling the boys everything at once.)

Brian continued, "This is the part you will be interested in Steve. These people claim they understood and manipulated DNA thousands of years ago. The most sensitive information in the library is DNA protected, and only a genetically pure Nina Nizhoni can gain access."

"That is interesting," Steve replied. "But what does that have to do with us?"

"Haley was adopted from a Hopi Indian tribe with roots traced back to Florida. The legend says that the glowing eyes of a light skinned child like Haley will reveal her pure Nina Nizhoni heritage."

Steve considered Brian's answer before answering. "That's fascinating, but I can tell you it doesn't work that way. The DNA of the child will be a familial match with the parent. There is no way that Haley is a pure-blooded descendant."

"That's the thing." Brian continued. "They claim to have had such an extensive knowledge of the genetic process they were able to embed the pure DNA of a Nina Nizhoni into the genes of local Indians. After a few thousand years when civilization had advanced enough to understand their technology, the Nina Nizhoni DNA would reassert its dominance and be revealed by a child with glowing eyes."

"That's a great story," Steve said. "But glowing eyes don't prove anything. I still don't understand why they think Haley is the one."

"The medallion," Brian said.

"Oh yea, right, the medallion. What is this medallion Claude mentioned?"

"It looks like an expensive piece of jewelry, but appears to be a living electronic device. Anastasias instructed me to give it to Haley. When she held it in the palm of her hand, it was activated by her DNA. I touched it, Jamie touched it, Anastasias and Matt both held it, but nothing happened. It only responds to Haley."

Haley turned toward Chris who was sitting next to her on the back seat. "Do you want to touch it?" Chris nodded yes. Haley unbuttoned the top of her blouse to reveal the medallion hanging from a leather cord slightly below her breasts. She held Chris's hand and pressed it gently against the medallion.

"It's warm," Chris said, his voice quivering. "It's alive, like it's a part of you."

He could feel his heart racing. I'll never let you go, he thought. Then a piercing noise jolted him back.

"Let me touch it," Steve barked from the front seat. Haley buttoned her blouse and lifted the medallion for everyone to see.

"You can look but you can't touch," she said.

"Why not, it sounds like everybody else has?" Steve whined.

"That is before it was mine." Haley said softly. "Now it's personal."

Steve was an astute guy. He didn't fully agree with her reasoning, but understood from Haley's tone that she considered the medallion more than a piece of jewelry. It had become an intimate extension of her identity.

Dan couldn't see much from the driver's seat, but could hear Steve and see the excitement on his face. Steve's jaw dropped and his voice cracked when he saw the medallion.

"It's the Etz Chayim!" he said. "This is an amazing intermingling of jewelry and technology."

Steve still wasn't sure what to make of Haley, but as he remembered her DNA test he had little doubt she was more unusual than Brian's story disclosed.

Chapter 26

### Haley's Choice

Chris walked Haley to her door a little before midnight. It had been a long day. Brian decided to spend the night at Chris's cabin rather than walk to his family's shack in the dark. Steve and Matt stayed at Dan's cabin.

The boys met at Becky's for breakfast the following morning before heading back to Wildwood.

"Ya'll seem mighty quiet this morning." Becky remarked as she led them to a table. "You look like Zombies."

"Our trip was a little overwhelming." Chris replied. "Did Haley tell you about the place we visited? It's like a page out of a science fiction novel."

"I'm on the ORION Institute's Board of Directors." Becky said with a little smirk.

Chris's face contorted as if he'd swallowed a lemon. "Whaaaaaat? That's a big deal. Why didn't you tell us?"

"The Institute is very low key and it's an honorary position." Becky answered modestly. "I didn't even tell Haley until she mentioned you were going."

Steve sat up straight in his chair. "Wait a minute! Did you call and let them know Haley was coming?"

"Of course, the Administrator is an old friend. My most memorable archeological dig was on the site of what is now the ORION Institute."

"Aha, that's it!" Steve said. "That's how they knew Haley was coming and why we were treated like special guests."

Steve turned toward Brian and pushed him playfully.

"You had me going with that ridiculous story claiming Haley has special DNA and a magical medallion."

Becky put her hand on Steve's shoulder and said, "I'm not sure what Brian has told you, but I can confirm that Haley is very special."

"Nice try Mrs. King, but the cat's out of the bag." Steve shook his head and chuckled. "There are still a lot of unanswered questions, but it's nice to know Haley isn't an alien. I almost fell for it Brian."

Steve's conversation jolted Dan's memory enough to recall that when Claude said goodbye, he also said he was looking forward to seeing everyone in September.

"Is anybody planning to visit the ORION Institute in September?" he asked.

"I won't; Haley and I will be heading to Chapel Hill next month." Chris answered.

"None of us will," Steve said. "We'll all be in college."

Dan shrugged in halfhearted agreement and then decided to ask again. "Are you sure, because Claude sounded pretty confident?"

Becky was pouring coffee and listening. It made Chris uncomfortable when she looked directly at him and said, "You might be surprised how things can change."

Chris had looked out the window and seen Haley in the garden a few minutes earlier. She enjoyed dead-heading flowers in the morning so he thought nothing of it, but he looked again and this time saw her talking to a well-dressed elderly man.

"Who is that with Haley?" he asked Becky.

"Doctor Augustus Richter. He was a professor at Cornell when Ben and I were there. He led the dig in New Mexico where we found Haley. He's an old family friend and has been a second father to Haley. She calls him Uncle Auggie. I am sure she has mentioned him to you."

Chris's pulse was starting to race. Haley mentioned Uncle Auggie many times when they discussed her favorite subject, archaeology.

In her desire to support Chris, Haley registered to study Classical Civilizations at Duke. That would have been enough a year ago, but things had changed. Dozens of major colleges across the country were trying to recruit her, and she had grown more independent. Chris noticed recently that Becky's career in archeology was a frequent topic of conversation for Haley. He didn't want to hold her back, but was afraid she was having second thoughts about attending Duke. She might be planning to follow in her mother's footsteps by enrolling at the Cornell Institute of Archaeology in New York.

"What do you think Dr. Richter wants?" Chris asked Becky.

"I'm not sure. You'll have to ask Haley."

Everyone was eager to go home and begin preparing for college. Jamie had returned to Wildwood with her parents, so Brian caught a ride with Matt. Steve rode back with Dan, but Chris stayed to talk with Haley. He went to find her after breakfast and found her at the dock, sitting alone on a bench Renee built for her. She was praying.

"I thought I might find you here," Chris whispered when she looked up.

"And I knew you would come looking for me. We need to talk." Haley replied.

Chris braced for the bad news.

"I can't go to Duke," she whispered.

Haley was asserting her independence. Chris and Haley had not been apart for more than a week in the past five years. Haley had become such a part of Chris's life that the thought of an extended separation made him weak. He sat beside her while she explained.

"I want to study archaeology at the ORION Institute. Uncle Auggie, I mean Doctor Richter has spent the last two years developing the curriculum."

"Are you sure? I expected you to say Cornell, but the ORION Institute? What do you really know about it? Is it even accredited?"

"Dr. James Campbell who is the most famous archaeologist in the world is serving as Dean. That alone is good enough for me."

"But what kind of instructors can you expect at such a small school?"

"I had that same question, but Uncle Auggie showed me the faculty list. Many of the best college teachers from around the world will rotate through on a guest program. The organization which owns the institute attracted them by offering unlimited resources for their research while they teach."

"Can they provide you with practical experience? You might get laboratory and museum training, but is there any field work?"

"That's the main reason for my decision. The ORION Institute is located on the most prized archaeological dig site on the planet, and I may be studying my own family history!"

"What happens to us? Aren't you and I meant to be together?" Chris asked and then added, "please don't say it's all part of God's plan."

She didn't. Her expression said it for her. "Have a little faith."

Chapter 27

### Proof of God?

The drive home to Wildwood seemed much longer than the one hour it usually took. Chris felt Haley was making the right choice for her, but couldn't imagine spending so much time apart. And how did this relate to the dreams he interpreted as visions of him in school with Haley and his friends? He prayed, but there seemed to be no good answers.

A perfectly preserved 1956 Chevrolet Bel-Air was parked in the driveway when he arrived home. Strangely, the canary-yellow classic was the ideal accompaniment for the flamboyant purple house. Mom has a new car, he thought.

"Nice car Mom." Chris yelled as he entered the house.

"We're in here," Sanya replied from the Florida room. The house had an elegant living room, but Sanya insisted on taking guests to her own personal creation, the Florida room she called "the Jamaica room."

Tropical plants packed the room from one end to the other: Gingers, Frangipanis, Bananas, and even a large Mango tree touched the raised ceiling. The furniture was waterproof and glass doors were added to protect the rest of the house from the humidity.

"I think you have met Mr. Gautier. That's his car in the driveway," Sanya said.

"Your mother has created a wonderful sanctuary. I think we should offer her a job as landscape designer," Claude joked as Chris entered.

"Claude is here to see you Chris," Sanya announced. "He says he wants to offer you a scholarship."

"I don't need a scholarship Mom. I've been accepted at Duke. They have the best Department of Religious Studies in the country, and Aunt Leslie made sure I could afford it."

"Just because you have money in your pocket doesn't mean you have to spend it. You should at least listen to what Mr. Gautier has to say."

"I will Mom, but it won't make any difference," Chris mumbled.

"Well, at least you have an open mind," Claude said with a smile. He pulled out a sealed letter from Dr. Kevin Flanagan. Dr. Flanagan was an esteemed alumnus of Duke University. He was a friend of Chris's father, pastor of the largest Catholic Church in Orlando, and Chris's primary reference for admission to Duke.

"What's this?" Chris asked.

"It's a personal letter to you from Dr. Flanagan. I haven't read it, but I hope it will help you decide what to do."

"Excuse me for a minute," Chris said as he opened the letter and began to read.

\------------------------------------------------

Dear Chris,

Duke is a superb school and their Department of Religious Studies is second to none. They will provide you with the finest education available and open doors to the most prestigious seminaries and Doctoral programs in the world.

The ORION Institute is a small obscure enterprise that may add little to your resume and find you pursuing outrageous theories which could bring ridicule and alienate you from your peers.

Having said that, the path to finding God is not always a straight line. If it were my decision at your age, I would jump at the chance to join Mr. Gautier and the ORION Institute. I have known Claude for many years and believe his love for God is as deep as anything you can learn in seminary.

Good luck and please know whatever you choose to do, I will support you.

Kevin

\---------------------------------------------

Chris wasn't sure what to make of the cryptic letter. Dr. Flanagan made it clear which institution he would choose, but his reason was very ambiguous. Chris put the letter away and looked at Claude.

"O.K., you've got my attention. This is the way I see it. The ORION Institute is dedicated to human achievement. You want to use technology to create your humanistic vision of Heaven on Earth."

"You're wrong Chris, it's the exact opposite. Do you think Haley would want to be a part of anything that didn't include God?"

It wasn't a surprise that Claude would use Haley as an argument, but it still irritated Chris.

"I love Haley, but she's naïve. I think you have taken advantage of her desire to uncover her heritage. She is a very trusting and vulnerable person."

Claude chided Chris, "You're not giving Haley enough credit, and you could not be more wrong about us. We accept God as the source and center of all things. We may even have scientific evidence to support it."

"Then why put so much emphasis on technology at the Institute?" Chris asked.

Claude glanced at his cell phone.

"Technology can be a wonderful thing. It can make our lives more productive and meaningful if used properly. But when Haley's civilization reached its pinnacle thousands of years ago, technology replaced God. They forgot the meaning of life in pursuit of progress and therefore life no longer had meaning."

Chris rolled his eyes and groaned. "Haley's civilization? You have already labeled her before you even know her, and isn't the ORION Institute founded on materialism? Aren't you spending billions of dollars to uncover ancient technologies?"

"That's precisely why we need people like you and Haley," Claude reasoned. "The world is approaching a tipping point. Haley can help us recognize the mistakes of the past, and you can help us build a path to the future, a course that will take us closer to God instead of leading us away."

Sanya was still in the room, confused by the conversation. Chris looked at her and asked playfully, "what do you think Mom?" Sanya stared back with an empty gaze. Chris turned back toward Claude.

"You said you have scientific evidence of the existence of God?" he asked.

"We have been able to use Haley's DNA to decode thousands of ancient Nina Nizhoni documents literally overnight. Are you familiar with quantum consciousness?"

"I have read a little. It's a theory based on quantum entanglement asserting the essential component of your mind exists separate from your brain, and continues even after the brain ceases to function."

"That's right," Claude replied. "We think the Nina Nizhoni proved it. They used quantum physics to discover a force which encompasses and binds every particle of matter and anti-matter. Our best translation would be the 'OMEGA Quotient.' It's a little like string-theory."

Chris struggled to comprehend what Claude was saying.

"O.K., let's assume the Higgs Theory is correct and we find proof that everything in the universe comes from a single source. Why would you assume it is God instead of a random physical phenomenon as many scientists argue?"

"This is where it gets interesting." Claude answered. "Once the Nina Nizhoni scientists were able to identify OMEGA Quotient impulses, they discovered a concentration directed at the human brain in a very non-random manner. They theorized it might be a compendium of all knowledge encoded on a spiritual plane like the Akashic record."

Chris rubbed his eyes, "How does that prove anything?"

"The impulses were composed of incomprehensibly complex equations. They were able to decipher only two words, 'I am.'"

"Chris whispered the word, wow! He was overwhelmed and thought, maybe the Institute is where I belong. Instead of studying history, I can be a part of it. Is that what Dr. Flanagan was trying to tell me?

"Claude," Chris said as he reached out to shake hands. "I'd like to take some time to think it over and pray."

"Of course, take as much time as you need. I know you'll make the right choice whatever you decide."

Chapter 28

### Daniel's Decision

The University of Florida would be Dan's home in less than a month. His grades were excellent, but his academic achievements were ordinary compared to his four best friends. That is why it was such a shock when Claude Gautier showed up at his house and offered the equivalent of a full scholarship to the ORION Institute.

"Why me?" Dan asked. "I'm a good student, but you gave me the impression only the smartest people in the world are recruited to the Institute."

"We recruit anyone who has something special to offer. You're very talented with computers and we want people who can help us get our message out."

"I'm no Steve Jobs." Dan replied.

"You have something even more valuable to offer, your DNA."

"What?" Dan started to laugh. "I'm no Nina Nizhoni either. In case you haven't noticed, Haley and I are very different."

"We've noticed," Claude said with a laugh. "The problem is the Nina Nizhoni including Haley are a separate species. They spliced their genes with humans and after thousands of years nearly every person on the planet has Nina Nizhoni genes."

Dan knew Haley was different, but even after her transformation he found it difficult to believe she was another species. It took a minute to catch his breath.

"Why does that matter and what's so special about my DNA?" he asked.

"We traced your family lineage back through South Africa before your visit to the Institute. We suspected you might have pure unaltered Homo sapiens DNA. I hope it doesn't upset you to know we tested a sample and it confirmed your Genome is untainted."

"But I thought the whole idea was the superiority of Nina Nizhoni DNA." Dan said.

Claude appeared to be annoyed by Dan's comment.

"First off, there is no such thing as superior DNA. We can create machines which outperform humans in every endeavor. Does that mean machines are more important than humans? No, of course not. Machines are only important because they assist humans who have the unique ability to enjoy and appreciate life. The Nina Nizhoni learned the hard way when they started tampering with genetics."

"I still don't understand why my DNA is important."

"The Nina Nizhoni encountered a large number of unintended side effects. They didn't establish a reference point, so they had nothing to refer to when things went wrong. It was a fatal mistake. Your DNA can be used as a baseline to identify differences between the two species. We want to map your DNA down to the molecular structure of the amino acids. When things go wrong and they will, it will provide a template to start over. Your DNA will provide directions when we get lost."

"So why don't you avoid the problem altogether? Don't tinker with people's DNA. Why play God?" Dan asked.

"When people realize they can prevent birth defects and avoid hereditary diseases by adjusting a few genes, there will be no way to stop them."

Dan explained his existing University of Florida enrollment to Claude and the many reasons why it was too late to change. Claude said ORION would cover the costs and take care of the paperwork.

The decision to attend ORION was easy for Dan. He might miss some enjoyment of life at a major university, but college was expensive. His father was willing to pay the difference beyond the financial assistance, but it would dig deep into Mr. Naidoo's retirement savings.

A month ago when they were leaving the Institute, Claude said he was looking forward to seeing Dan in September. He was right. Dan wondered how he knew and then he wondered if his friends were having a similar experience.

Chapter 29

### Together Again

Dan was wide awake by the time the alarm clock went off at 5 a.m. on Tuesday, September 4, 2001. Personal vehicles weren't allowed at the Institute, so a limo-bus was scheduled to pick him up around 7:30 at his house in Wildwood. His father was already in the kitchen. Dan could smell the wonderful aroma of Gilchrest County sausage.

"Mornin Dan, gotta send you off right," Mr. Naidoo said.

This would be his first trip back to the Institute since the tour, but Dan spent so much time on the ORION's encrypted website it already felt a little like home. He knew his class and work schedules, where he would be living, dining, etc. One thing he didn't know was who his roommates would be.

Two suitcases were packed and carefully placed at the door along with a laptop. Dan had not talked to any of his friends except Chris in weeks and was wondering if their college plans had changed. He was a little jealous of Steve, Matt, and Brian who would be enjoying traditional college life while he attended something akin to a boarding school. At least he would not be alone. Chris had decided to join Haley at ORION. It also helped when he remembered the whole thing was free.

"The breakfast is delicious!" Dan told his father as he scarfed down three sausages, four eggs, two slices of buttered toast, two glasses of fresh squeezed orange juice, and a large cup of hot coffee.

"I love you son." Mr. Naidoo said as he started to tear up.

"Please don't get emotional pop; this is hard enough as it is."

Dan remembered the day when Becky King asked Ernie, "What are you going to do with yourself when Daniel goes to college?" Dan found himself wishing his father had answered because the prospect of leaving him alone was troubling. Father and son talked and shared old memories for over an hour until the bus driver arrived.

Dan felt a tinge of despair as the driver helped him load the suitcases. This should be a happy day, he thought while waving goodbye. His legs felt heavy as he walked to the limo-bus and climbed the steps.

" **Dan!** " A chorus of voices called out in unison. It was a parody of the old TV show "Cheers" when the crowd shouted "Norm!" to welcome George Wendt's character to the bar.

Dan's four friends were on the bus headed for the ORION Institute. They were all going to the same school just as Chris dreamed and Claude anticipated. This was the biggest shock since lightning struck on their sixteenth birthday. Dan could not have asked for a better beginning to his college experience.

"What are you guys doing here?" he asked.

"Same as you Danny boy. We are going to college." Chris answered. "We still have to stop in Bayport to pick up Haley."

"What happened to Duke, North Carolina State and Florida?"

"ORION made us each an offer we couldn't refuse. Beside, we get to stay together."

Chris had already explained that he and Haley were going to the Institute because of the research, but Dan didn't think anything on Earth could convince Steve, Matt, and Brian to change plans. They sounded so excited with their college choices.

"What made you guys choose an obscure little school in the middle of nowhere?" he asked.

"It isn't that simple," Steve replied. "J. Alfred Weston visited each of us personally. One of the richest men in the world took the three of us for a ride on his private jet. He promised the school would be state-of-the-art and showed us signed contracts with leading instructors from some of the best schools in the world."

Matt said, "We're all a little nervous, but it sounds like an adventure, and it's free! Mr. Weston has guaranteed we can reenroll as we originally planned, and he'll pay the tuition if it doesn't work out!"

"But won't you guys be giving up some of the fun of traditional college like football games?"

"You haven't read the fine print have you?" Steve asked with a chuckle. "We aren't giving up anything. There are tickets to major college football games, field classes on Friday off campus in either Tampa or Orlando, and an incredible culture trip at least once each year."

"Yea, I read something about the culture trip in the letter from Claude, but didn't think it applied to me."

"Who did you think it was for?" Steve asked mockingly. "It's specifically for Haley and whomever she chooses. Chris has it on good authority that means us! At the end of each year, our little troop will take an all-expenses paid trip to places like Australia, Hong Kong, London, Bermuda, Singapore or Hawaii. We will be traveling in style on Mr. Weston's private jet and staying in the finest hotels!"

"Wow!" Dan said. "Why do we get such special treatment?"

Steve answered, "I'm not completely sure, but I know we wouldn't be here if it weren't for Haley. And like I said, we aren't giving up anything."

When Haley boarded the bus, the boys shouted "Haley" like they did for Dan. It didn't sound quite right, but she seemed to appreciate the effort.

The whole day felt like a dream. Haley and the boys were embarking on a great adventure together. Dan thought it was odd that Haley didn't appear surprised to see Steve, Brian, and Matt on the bus. He thought, it's like she knew before they decided.

Chapter 30

### School of Wizardry

The atmosphere was relaxed as the teenagers talked, laughed, and acted silly on the ride to their new school home. The large stone gate opened as before when the bus arrived.

Instead of following the road as they did on the tour, the vehicle began to sink. An elevator lowered the limo-bus twenty feet into an elegant terminal. The unusual entrance reminded Dan of a place in the book, _Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_ by J.K. Rowland.

"This place looks a lot like Hogwartz School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," he said as an escort led the group to a stylish waiting area stocked with food, toiletries, magazines, and clothes.

There were many amenities including a wide-screen TV, well-stocked library, immaculate restrooms, and a massage chair which Steve quickly occupied.

Dan looked back and saw the limo-bus spinning on a turntable. When it completed the rotation, the entire luggage compartment was ejected and loaded onto a fast moving conveyor.

An attendant called Haley to a staging desk after the group had time to stretch their legs, eat snacks, and take a bathroom break.

"This is an honor," she said. "Are our Prophies ready to continue?"

"We're ready to go." Haley answered even though she didn't fully understand what "Prophies" meant or why the girl considered it an honor to meet them.

"What did she call us?" Steve asked Haley.

"It sounded like profies. Maybe it's a nickname for new students."

They followed the attendant into a small chamber and climbed into giant vacuum tubes which resembled the little plastic thingamajigs seen in the drive-thru at banks. Once seated, the tubes shot off like a rocket.

"If it weren't for the dampening field, I think our brains would be splashed on the windows of the vehicle like a Jackson Pollock painting." Steve remarked.

They came to an abrupt stop within a few seconds and heard a clear female voice.

"Welcome to the Hub!" The doors to the claustrophobic little chambers opened and the Prophies gladly disembarked into a large circular room.

"How may I be of assistance?" A young woman asked from a raised platform in the center of the chamber. Although her appearance was attractive, she seemed cold and detached.

"We're new students." Haley announced. "Where do we need to go?"

"Please state your names," the woman said with mechanical efficiency.

Haley provided the names and within a few minutes, three excessively cheerful older students came through one of the many tunnels to greet them. One of them spoke.

"Welcome to the ORION Institute or as I like to call it, 'Hogwartz' for gifted muggles."

Dan looked at his friends with an expression of validation, "See, I told you this place is like Hogwartz!"

The young man continued, "I'm Tim Taylor. This is my brother Tom, and my sister Tammy. We're identical triplets, all theoretical physicists, and your humble sponsors."

Haley and the boys were trying to avoid laughing. The three older students looked like life-size versions of Howdy Doody, with Ronald McDonald hair, conspicuous freckles, and huge smiles.

"Well hello there triplets Tim, Tom, and Tammy Taylor," Haley replied melodiously. There was a brief silence until Brian began to giggle. Steve, Matt, and Dan started chuckling at the same time. Suddenly, everyone in the room except the girl on the platform was laughing.

"That's a good ice-breaker." Tammy said as she, Tim, and Tom began shaking hands and hugging everyone like members of a family.

"What's with her?" Steve whispered to Tim as he nodded toward the lady on the platform.

"Oh, that's the Ice Queen. She's the interface for the central computer."

"You mean she isn't human?"

"Nooo," he said rolling his eyes. "She's synthetic and dangerous. One of our second-year students tried to kiss her soon after she was activated. She broke his arm, so now they keep her out of reach on a pedestal!"

"She looks so real," Steve said as he stared at her.

"Come on guys, let's get this show on the road. We have a long tour ahead," Tom announced from the first of three vehicles that looked like sleek high-tech golf carts.

"This cart will be yours when we're finished Haley. The guys get the other two."

"Hey!" Steve protested in jest. "Why does Haley get her own cart and we have to share?"

"Actually, no one else on campus has a private cart. The other students walk or use the public carts located at the various charging stations."

"Why are we so special?" Haley asked.

"I suppose because you're famous."

"How can we be famous?" Steve asked. "We arrived less than an hour ago. We haven't done anything."

"This may sound strange, but it isn't what you've done. It is what you are going to do. All six of you have massive shadows on the Quantum Biomolecular Interactive Field Indicator. The whole school knows about it."

After a long awkward pause, Steve starting smiling and said, "Very funny, you're joking."

"No," Tom said calmly. "The QBIFI is the most advanced piece of technology at the Institute! It is like a computerized fortune teller. In fact, your arrival was predicted by the machine. The students have a name for you, the Children of Prophecy or **Prophies**. We'll stop by the QBIFI on the tour if we have time, but we should get started."

Steve raised his nose in the air. " **Prophies** ," he said. "I like the way it rolls off the tongue." Tom cleared his throat to get everyone's attention.

"There's a lot to see. The facility includes sixty-four primary satellite buildings on four levels with over a thousand connecting passageways. You can get anywhere in the complex without ever going outside... or you can get hopelessly lost, so please pay attention."

After more than two hours of non-stop cheery commentary, hundreds of identical tunnels, classrooms, laboratories, bathrooms, shops, dormitories, dining stations, offices, and on and on, Steve was the first to complain.

"I'm hungry. This place is a giant ant colony! I should have eaten more back at the bus station."

"Perfect timing," Tim replied as he parked the cart. "Gentlemen, this will be your home. Tom and I are across the hall. Haley, you will be sharing an apartment with Tammy in the next module."

Tammy asked, "Is anybody else hungry?" She was answered with "it's about time," an "oh yes", two affirmative grunts, and one "hallelujah!"

"Check out your apartment, freshen up, and meet Haley and me back here in thirty minutes," Tammy said as she and Haley rode away.

After Tom demonstrated how the carts were connected to the charging station, he programed the apartment door entry system which used biometric facial recognition access control.

"It's a brave new world," Steve remarked. After entering, Dan led a race to the curved back wall of the apartment. It was completely transparent providing a spectacular view. The apartment was positioned thirty feet above ground on the far side of the complex. The sun was setting like a giant pumpkin over the marsh. They stood awestruck, staring at the seamless union of technology and nature.

"Look at the alligators!" Dan said. There were a dozen on a dry bank below.

"And get a load of the size of that turtle," Brian added. A turtle which had been sunning in the same area was over three feet wide. The view seemed so peculiar and out of place. Observing the wetland from the high-tech apartment was like being in an enormous spaceship which had landed on an alien planet.

Their luggage had already been placed in the assigned sleeping cubicles, so they hastily toured the apartment and prepared for dinner. By the time Steve figured out how to open the door to leave, Tim, Tom, Tammy, and Haley were already waiting in the hall.

"That is a fire hazard," Matt said, pointing to the door as they exited. "It took us five minutes to get out!"

"You will get the hang of it," Tammy assured them. "And in an emergency, all the doors open automatically."

"You are in for a real treat tonight," Tim said. "All first-year students are served their initial meal in the Planetarium."

"And the sky is clear tonight," Tammy said as she pointed to the highest building in the complex. "We are going up there."

They gazed out the corridor window. The Planetarium was shaped like a giant flying saucer with a clear dome which glowed orange from the setting sun.

They arrived at the Planetarium six corridors and three escalators later. It also served as a conservatory and was the largest meeting room at the school. A dozen tables with eight to twelve chairs each were sporadically placed amongst the camouflage of lush and fragrant plants.

"Here is our table," Tim called from behind a large fern.

The Prophies found their assigned seats and began sampling the warm bread and tropical fruit. Tim cleared his throat to get everyone's attention.

"The Director is preparing to speak."

A man who was illuminated by a faint spotlight appeared in the middle of the room.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen. I'm Claude Gautier, Director of the ORION Institute. Welcome to our family." He was wearing a dark suit with a more impressive appearance than when he led the tour.

"Every person here has been carefully screened and selected to participate in a vital project. We at the ORION Institute are determined to shape the future of mankind on planet Earth. In exchange for your help, you will receive the finest education available anywhere and participate in astonishing technical and societal innovations."

The new students gasped with astonishment when Claude activated the sky dome. The chamber had darkened and the stars in the sky shinned unnaturally bright, even more luminous than on the blackest night at the river.

"How is this possible?" Steve asked Tim. "I'd expect the curve of the dome to produce a fisheye effect which would make the stars appear smaller, but they appear much larger and brighter than usual."

"The dome isn't the simple clear substance it appears to be," he replied. "It is a giant telescopic camera. What you are seeing is a digital projection of the night sky, magnified with atmospheric distortions removed. You could not get a better view if you were on the space station."

Claude continued speaking, "You will learn more about our goals over the next few weeks and months, and I am confident you will be as excited as we are. Tonight, enjoy your meal and welcome to our family." The dim spotlight on Claude faded and he disappeared.

The meal was spectacular and the students talked, laughed, and watched the stars until midnight when the lights came up and everyone was ushered out. The boys were so tired by the time they arrived back at the apartment they went directly to bed.

Dan closed his eyes and found himself dreaming, welcome to Hogwartz!

Chapter 31

### Indoctrination

The first two days at ORION were spent in orientation. The sprawling high-tech structures evoked awe, but the architecture paled in comparison to the lofty goals established by the college founders. Some of the benefactors including J. Alfred Weston were public figures; others were completely unknown. It was heady stuff being a part of a secretive organization which was so powerful and influential. Dan and Matt were determined to avoid the seductive allure and remain objective.

The ORION Institute was like a cult in many ways. All of the students including Haley were entranced by the goal of creating a better world.

Dan and Matt could not argue with the objective, but the millennium was fresh in their minds and New World Order conspiracy theories were plentiful. They wondered; are we being used as pawns by a few billionaires who want to control the planet?

The Institute operated differently from other schools by meeting every need of the students and faculty: food, lodging, academic materials, entertainment, etc. Most new arrivals were not sure how to react. It was like waking up within a completely different social and economic system. An advisor explained it with the standard spiel:

"You won't need money here. Anyone who lives on campus participates in a resource-based economy inspired by futurist Jacque Fresco. He founded the Venus Project."

The Venus Project? What is that? Matt wondered. The idea of a resource-based economy sounded complicated, but Matt tried to keep an open mind as he listened to her explanation.

"A resource-based economy is a system centered on resources rather than money. All resources on the planet are considered common property. Materialism as you have come to know it does not not exist here. Resources are made available to the people who need them; there is no middle man, profit, or inefficiency. Of course it is not quite that simple, but for practical purposes," she opened her arms gesturing to the entire facility. "If you need something, it's yours."

Matt asked, "If everyone takes whatever they need, how do you keep track of inventory? How do you know how much to order and how much of what to keep on hand?"

"Our inventory control system relies upon cradle-to-grave, cutting-edge technology," the advisor answered. "Each item and student have distinct biometric readings which enable the system to pinpoint who took the item, the current location, how long it has been there, and how much remains until the item is completely consumed or discarded."

"It sounds like we are being watched every minute. Is that necessary?" Matt asked.

"The short answer is yes. A resource-based economy is much more efficient and equitable than using money. The goal is to encourage an incentive system that isn't founded on shallow and self-centered goals of wealth, property, and power. We envision a world where the material and spiritual needs of every person is satisfied, allowing individuals to pursue self-fulfillment. The institution provides students a first-hand account of how the system might work in the real world."

Matt was a little uncomfortable with that much big brother. It was beyond anything he considered possible, so he took solace when Steve whispered sarcastically, "This sounds a lot like a high tech commune."

An unsettling vision was playing in Matt's mind; he pictured a mysterious machine tracking the sandwich he ate for lunch until it was digested and flushed down the toilet.

Although Matt was trying to avoid being brainwashed by the Institute, it was difficult to avoid falling in love with the place. ORION was located in the middle of nowhere, but felt like the center of the world. An endless stream of celebrities, politicians, famous scientists and billionaires could be seen wandering around the campus. Most were gawking with the same childlike expression Haley and the boys had on their first visit.

A different person arrived each evening of the first week to speak in the conservatory. They were world leaders who seldom spoke at venues smaller than the United Nations. They came unannounced with no fanfare, talking impromptu with the students and faculty for an hour. There was no official record of the visits, but they felt compelled to speak. Matt wondered, why?

Classes were as inspiring as the instructors. There were ten or less students in each classroom, and the lecturers were famous scientists or popular instructors visiting from other universities. The laboratories and equipment/materials were beyond cutting edge, more like science fiction. The textbooks were maintained in adjustable binders because they were being continuously updated.

Haley and the boys from Wildwood looked forward to the lessons with anticipation like everyone else, wondering what innovative new concepts they might learn or what mysteries would be revealed.

The six of them were so involved in classes they forgot Tom's comment about them being famous. When Brian remembered, he asked a passing student where the Quantum Biomolecular Interactive Field Indicator was located. The student responded, "The what?"

"I told you it was a joke," Steve crowed, but Haley challenged him.

"That still doesn't explain why we were treated differently."

"Were we?" Steve asked. "Think about it. As far as I can tell, the only special treatment we received was the souped-up golf carts. But those carts don't have our names on them, and they don't look any different than other carts positioned around the facility."

"Yea," Dan added, "How would anyone know it was one of our carts if we left it at one of the other staging areas?"

"Exactly," Steve continued, "Tom also said he would show us the magic fortune telling machine, but he hasn't. Face it, this is an initiation prank."

"I don't agree," said Brain. "Anastasius described the Quantum Biomolecular Interactive Field Indicator to me when I visited him at Archbold. He didn't call it that name, but he described it."

Steve shook his head and laughed. "Suckers. I'll challenge Tom after class this evening and you'll see."

Steve made some good points, but the other boys figured if Haley thought the machine existed, it probably did.

Chapter 32

### The QBIFI

Matt, Brian, Steve, and Dan went back to their apartment after dinner. Chris returned a few minutes later with Haley and Tammy.

"Tammy is going to take us to see the QBIFI when you guys are ready," Haley announced.

"What is that?" Steve asked.

"It's what the students call the Quantum Biomolecular Interactive Field Indicator. You know, the machine you claim doesn't exist."

"Oh, I'll believe it when I see it," Steve said with a wink toward Dan.

Tammy explained the QBIFI was located in a secure vault at the farthest end of the facility, so they would take the carts rather than walk.

The tunnels looked familiar for the first fifteen minutes of the ride, but then the corridors widened without windows or decoration of any kind. As they raced through a long straight hall, they passed a dark passageway on the right. It appeared different from the others and they felt a cold blast of air.

"What's down there?" Steve asked.

"That's where we keep Walt Disney's frozen head," Tammy replied with a straight face.

"Very funny." Steve quipped.

They arrived a few minutes later. The end of the tunnel appeared smooth and metallic. Tammy stepped from the cart and spoke toward the wall.

"This is Tammy Taylor with the Prophies."

The wall looked as if it turned into dust and drifted away in little clouds of smoke. The others followed Tammy inside what appeared to be an enormous cavern. Strange colored lights flickered and winked casting peculiar shadows which bathed the room in a cool green glow.

"Welcome to the Vault!" Boomed a young man's voice. Brian recognized it immediately. It was Anastasias. He leapt from the shadows wearing a cape like the one he wore years ago at Archbold. Everyone was startled.

"My Queen!" Anastasias dropped to one knee and bowed to Haley like a knight in a medieval play. Haley stiffened uncomfortably.

"Please don't call me that," she said softly, but with control.

"But your Highness, I am,"

Haley raised her hand and stopped him in mid-sentence.

"I know who you are," she said with an angry tone in her voice. Light was escaping around the edge of her contacts. A whirlwind encircled her. "My name is Haley King. I am a student at the ORION Institute like any other."

Haley's countenance softened and the wind subsided. She turned toward Chris and said "I'm sorry. That was a very poor joke." He pulled her close and said, "It's forgotten."

Except it wasn't. Dan was genuinely frightened, not of the strange man who jumped out of the dark in a vampire cape, but of a beautiful young friend who was possessed by something he didn't understand. He thought, this place gets more strange by the minute.

Anastasias tried to look away from Haley as he asked, "Tammy, will you introduce me?"

"Yes, this is our laboratory technician, Dr. Anastasias Custer. We call him the caretaker. I think he wants to be an actor because he tends to be a little over dramatic," she said with a nervous laugh. "Follow me, but be careful to avoid tripping."

They climbed several steps and gathered around the machine. It looked like a large pipe organ except it had a twenty-foot wide, three-dimensional display screen.

"This is the Quantum Biomolecular Interactive Field Indicator, or as most students know it, the QBIFI. It's pronounced Q-bifi. We think the QBIFI was built by an advanced civilization we call the Nina Nizhoni. The name means people with glowing eyes." Haley began fidgeting uncomfortably.

"Legends tell of an ancient people whose eyes were as bright as the stars."

Chris put his arm around Haley and she put hers around him. It was the light in Haley's eyes that first attracted Chris.

\-----------------------------------------

When they first met in Bayport at age 11, Haley turned away from Chris as they were introduced. She was embarrassed by her yellow eyes, afraid he would be repulsed. Instead, his hand softly guided her cheek until they were nose to nose. He whispered with undeniable adoration, "You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. Your eyes shine like the stars."

\-----------------------------------------

Tammy continued speaking.

"The vault was first excavated in 1981 by an archaeological team which included our own Dr. Claude Gautier and Haley's mother, Dr. Rebecca King."

The stunned expression on Haley's face was unmistakable.

"You didn't know?" Tammy asked. Haley shook her head to confirm her surprise, so Tammy continued.

"It wasn't until recently that we began to understand what the QBIFI does. Through the efforts of Dr. Custer and his father before him, we've learned that the QBIFI is a super sophisticated quantum computer which measures human interactions on a massive scale."

"But what is the purpose?" Steve asked. Tammy paused and took a deep breath.

"Well," She stuttered nervously. "It a, a, it taps into the fundamental fabric of reality."

"But what does it do? What does that mean?" Steve asked. He was confident that the elaborate hoax was about to be exposed.

Tammy regained her composure. "It tells the future."

Steve snorted laughter and said "that's got to be the biggest pile of crap I've ever heard. He looked at Matt, Brain, and Dan, "You guys are going to be embarrassed when you realize this is a part of the freshman hazing. I'll bet Haley is in on it, and Chris too." Tammy reached out and touched Steve's arm.

"I was as skeptical as you, but I stood in this exact spot last December when the machine predicted a huge biomolecular shift would take place in the western part of India on 26 January. Then as predicted, an earthquake devastated western India. Twenty thousand people died."

"So you say, but I bet the cape crusader here (he was referring to Anastasias) is the only one who can read the tea leaves, so we have to take his word for it."

"You're not listening," Tammy said, her voice filled with irritation. "This machine predicted the earthquake. It also will explain why the six of you are famous."

She led them to a display area with dozens of projections, each measuring approximately four feet square. The sheets of information were lined up like dominoes suspended in mid-air with dates on one axis, geographic coordinates on another, and strange symbols on a third, giving each three dimensions.

She proceeded to manipulate the machine to one specific page. It was heavily marked with lines and dots and had six names marked on it. Haley King, Christopher Hagan, Steve Davis, Mathew Jackson, Brian Adams, and Daniel Naidoo.

"This single projection is composed of over trecentillion discrete biological events in quantum space. The QBIFI uses qubits to measure interactions as 1s, 0s, or quantum superposition which is both at the same time. Combine that with the quantum effects of entanglement and tunneling and the QBIFI is the most powerful computer ever built on Earth."

"Are we supposed to be impressed because someone scribbled our names on a three dimensional spreadsheet?" Steve laughed sarcastically. "That doesn't prove anything. It convinces me even more that this is part of an elaborate hoax."

Tammy was struggling to stay calm. "I agree it doesn't prove anything, but this is the only time the QBIFI has been specific enough to list names. We think it's important for you to understand the magnitude of your biologic impact on the planet."

"What? Are each of us going to have a thousand kids or something?" Steve scoffed, his voice half sarcastic and half angry. He believed the hoax was going too far.

"I don't know what you're going to do." Tammy said seriously. "But I do know the ORION Institute was founded because of Haley."

Tammy paused before adding, "Also Chris, Matt. Brian, Dan and you!" Her hand flipped the display to another page.

"Look at this." The page identified the northeastern United States as the location, the date was September 11, 2001.

"The QBIFI predicts something very significant will happen on that day, but we can't identify the specific event. The President has been informed."

"The President of the United States?" Steve asked. You've got to be kidding, and on our birthday too. What a coincidence! I'm looking forward to it."

Tammy looked like Steve had punched her in the gut. Tears ran down her face and her voice trembled.

"Steve, the readings predict you will suffer more than anyone else. I'm so sorry, but next Tuesday you'll know this isn't a joke."

Steve was angry. The prank was getting much too personal. Regardless of his skepticism, he was shaken by the sincerity in Tammy's voice. He shook his head and said, "I've seen enough, this isn't funny."

There was an awkward silence on the ride back to their rooms. As the cart passed the tunnel where Tammy joked about Walt Disney's frozen head being stored, Haley heard voices and a powerful humming noise.

Chapter 33

### 9/11

Students and staff weren't allowed to have private cars on campus, so the school provided a free shuttle to Tampa, Orlando and points in between. A minimum of five students were required to register in advance to reserve the transportation.

Dan managed to convince his four friends from Wildwood and a few others to sign up for a trip to Disney World the first weekend. That was on Monday, but everyone was having second-thoughts by Tuesday afternoon. Monday was full of happy talk and orientation, but Tuesday was a different story. The new arrivals were already overwhelmed.

When Dan went to the office to cancel the trip, he was surprised to learn it hadn't been scheduled. The office manager was one hundred percent certain he would withdraw the request. The faculty was not surprised by the cancellation either. In fact, nothing the students did surprised the faculty or staff, and that did not happen by chance.

The school collected a dossier on each student with in-depth psychological profiles in addition to scholastic strengths and weaknesses. They also collected personal information including details the students thought no one else knew. The amount of information they collected was disturbing, but the results were undeniable. The school had a precise understanding of each enrollee's capabilities and limitations.

By the weekend, students were putty in their hands like little automatons following preprogramed instructions. The students loved it because they didn't realize they were being manipulated.

The first week had been intense, but fun and lighthearted. The mood was somber when they headed back to class on Monday of the second week. The date was September 10, 2001. The happy, optimistic presentations which defined the first week were gone and replaced by an edgy, gloomy atmosphere. Newly arrived enrollees wondered if the first week had been a pretense to avert a mass exodus.

Dan asked Tim Taylor if he knew what had changed.

"Tomorrow," he said. "Haven't you heard the QBIFI forecast? Something bad is going to happen tomorrow. We just don't know what it will be."

Steve was still convinced the prediction was part of some elaborate freshman initiation. He thought the joke would be revealed on their birthday, but the others disagreed.

Chris, Matt, Brian, and Dan could see genuine concern in the eyes of students and faculty. None of them got much sleep that night.

"Time to get up birthday boy," Chris prodded Dan who was still in bed. It was 8:30 a.m. on Tuesday, September 11. With the frantic pace of the first week, Dan had forgotten their birthday. He hurriedly dressed and followed the other boys to The Breakfast Hole, the only public place to eat in the morning other than biometric vending machines.

Haley was already there waiting when Tammy, Tim, and Tom brought out a giant birthday omelet. Large lettering made of chopped red peppers read, Happy Eighteenth Birthday! There were six names inscribed in small letters underneath. Chris Hagan, Steve Davis, Matt Jackson, Brian Adams, Daniel Naidoo, and ... Haley King.

After all these years, Dan didn't realize Haley had the same birthday until that moment. The little he knew concerning Haley's background was a few details Brian shared after their initial visit to the Institute. He felt left out as usual, but then someone else admitted not knowing.

"It's your birthday?" Steve asked Haley with a mixture of confusion and hurt.

"Yes, I thought you knew."

"How do you know it's your birthday? Weren't you abandoned as a baby?"

"There was a note with information including my date of birth."

Steve looked at Chris. "You must have known. Why didn't you say something?"

Chris shrugged and tried to explain. "I thought you knew. Haley moved to Bayport long after we started celebrating our birthday together. We were always busy fishing on that day, so the subject never came up."

Steve failed to recognize what was obvious to the others. The six of them were always meant to be together. Haley's birthdate was the final piece of the puzzle. Until now, Steve considered Haley a good friend, but an outsider.

Then he remembered the Etz Chayim scar on his foot, Chris's prediction they would all go to the same college, and the Etz Chayim pattern on Haley's medallion. It had not registered until now, but he saw the same pattern in the vault on Friday.

He started to welcome her as an official member of the group, but before he could utter the words the Director's voice rang out over the public address system.

"All students, faculty, and staff are requested to assemble immediately in the conservatory."

Dan stuffed a couple extra bites of omelet in his mouth and followed the crowd. Tammy hurried off in the opposite direction.

The three hundred seat capacity of the conservatory was not large enough to accommodate everyone, so extra seats were hastily set up.

A news report of the World Trade Center attack was being projected on a lower section of the dome. The sound was off when Claude Gautier walked to the center of the circular room and began speaking from a few hand written notes.

"At approximately 8:46 a.m. Eastern Standard Time, a United Airlines Boeing 767 crashed into the World Trade Center."

Claude was startled by a huge collective shriek from the audience. He turned his view to the live news projection which was showing a second plane crashing into the Towers.

"My god, it's really happening," he moaned. He turned the sound on to the news report and listened with the students and faculty for the next fifteen minutes. Then he turned the sound off again and addressed the assemblage.

"As you are aware, we have certain technologies at this facility which are unknown to most of the outside world. One of those technologies predicted a significant event would take place today. It projected a major event for the people of the east coast, so we felt a responsibility to notify the Federal Government in advance."

Claude paused and hung his head slightly as if embarrassed.

"Naturally they are suspicious we may be involved. The Vice President called within minutes of the initial plane crash. He informed me due to the ambiguous nature of the prediction and the resulting events, this facility, staff and students are under quarantine until further notice."

A quiet chatter filled the room as the crowd strained to understand what was happening, the reason for a quarantine, and what it meant for them.

"Please call your families, tell them you love them, but we are asking everyone to stay on campus for the next few days. I know it will be difficult, but I'm requesting no information concerning the quarantine or the reason for it be shared with anyone on the outside, including loved ones."

\--------------------------------------------

What Claude didn't tell them was he had refused a direct order from the Vice President of the United States to maintain a blackout of all information into or out of the facility, including phone calls to family. He told a very angry Vice President he alone would take responsibility for any leaked information.

\--------------------------------------------

A few people went back to their rooms and offices, but most stayed and watched as the towers fell, the Pentagon was hit, and flight 93 crashed. They experienced some therapeutic effect by being together.

Dan saw Tammy standing at the entrance to the conservatory looking for someone. He waived to her as she looked in his direction. She saw him and hurried over.

Her face was more red than usual and her eyes were swollen as if she'd been crying. He couldn't help but wonder if she was overwhelmed by the disaster or if someone in her family was involved.

"Are you O.K. Tammy?" he asked.

She seemed to ignore him and spoke to Steve.

"I need to talk to you."

"Sure," Steve replied as if numbed by the morning events.

Tammy pulled Steve away from his friends. She was holding his hands while speaking. Dan didn't hear much, but heard the words, "I'm so, so sorry."

Steve screamed like a wounded animal and Tammy was hugging him as tight as she could. Dan had never seen Steve cry, not even after the death of his brother John, but tears were running down his face.

No one except Tammy knew what had happened, but Haley had joined the hug within seconds, and then Chris. By the time Matt, Brian and Dan joined in, the whole conservatory was gathering into one giant embrace.

It wasn't related to the terrorist attacks, but Steve's mother and father had been killed in an automobile accident on their way to work that morning. Tammy's prediction "Steve would suffer more than anyone else" had come true.

Steve's Uncle Frank was the first to be contacted after the accident. He lived near Wildwood and went to the high school to pick up Steve's little sister Linda. In spite of everything that was happening, Claude made time to contact Steve's Uncle Frank and asked if Linda would like to be with Steve. She said yes, and despite the quarantine ordered by the Vice President, Linda was with her brother before the end of the day. They were a great comfort to each other. She went off to stay with Tammy and Haley a little before midnight.

When Dan's head hit the pillow at the end of that horrible day, he could still hear Steve mumbling "it's a joke, it's all a joke, it's a sick joke." Then the last thing he heard was Steve's tearful voice, "Dear God, help me."

Chapter 34

### Quarantine

For the next few days after 9/11, the ORION Institute looked more like an armed camp than a college campus. In addition to military personnel, there were more men in dark suits than students or faculty. Secretive arrivals and extra security indicated the highest ranking officials were spending most of their time at the QBIFI. Entrances to the area were heavily guarded.

The Vice President was still fuming over Claude's insubordination, but Claude had a few enigmatic friends who were even more powerful than the V.P.

The quarantine was partially lifted, allowing Steve's friends to attend the Davis's funeral. Steve left school to take care of personal matters and figure out what he was going to do with his future. Both of his parents were from large families, so there were plenty of aunts and uncles for support.

As teams of experts deliberated and debated the authenticity and utility of the QBIFI 9/11 prediction, they came to a consensus. Since the 9/11 readings registered three times higher than the earthquake in India which killed twenty thousand people, they concluded other attacks were imminent.

Based in part on that information, the Federal Government reacted much stronger than it may have otherwise. The QBIFI statistics had a direct impact on the length of time nonemergency civilian aircraft were grounded, implementation of the President's Surveillance Program (PSP), Stella Wind data mining, the Patriot Act, and the establishment of the Department of Homeland Security.

After months of study, experts began to understand what the QBIFI does. It registers and records strong thoughts and emotions on the sub-atomic level rather than physical manifestations in the observable world.

"We screwed up," a high-ranking official told the President. "We overreacted because that machine (the QBIFI) was simply reflecting people's emotional response to the massive media coverage which included the death of people from seventy-eight different countries."

It became clear that the Quantum Biomolecular Interactive Field Indicator was an effective tool for gauging the mood of the general population, but of little use in influencing human events.

"The machine may even enable us to predict the future," a top scientist reported. "But processes we don't understand at the sub-atomic level prevent us from changing the outcome. It's like looking in a mirror. We can see what's happening, but we can't get ahead of it."

Once the Feds realized the ORION Institute neither caused the 9/11 attacks, nor could have prevented them, their interest waned. Life at the Institute returned to as near normal as possible, but the nation struggled to make sense of senseless acts.

Despite the tragedy, first quarter classes were inspirational. Instead of demoralizing the students, the terrorist attacks intensified their desire to make a difference. It provided everyone with a sense of purpose. For most, it wasn't a matter of getting a degree or making a profit, but doing something important. They couldn't change the past, but they could change the future.

There were a couple things bothering Dan. The first was his inability to contact Haley, and the second was the uncertainty surrounding Steve. No one knew when or if Steve was returning to school.

Haley was working long hours in the vault. Security guards followed everywhere she went and wouldn't let anyone near, even to visit. Her friends didn't know whether they should be worried for her or be upset that she was ignoring them.

Steve was busy tying up loose-ends in Wildwood. Between managing the family household and keeping his parent's medical clinic open, there was a lot to do. Fortunately, his Uncle Frank was a medical doctor and available to take over the family practice. Steve's little sister Linda was taking accelerated classes and only a few credits short of her high school diploma.

Despite the turmoil or maybe because of it, J. Alfred Weston invited Haley to take the first culture trip during the Christmas break. Though she had been enrolled for less than three months, Mr. Weston believed an excursion was needed to refocus after the terrorist attacks and the death of Steve's parents.

The junket would be an eight-day visit to Sydney, Australia. His offer seemed awkward after the recent tragedy, but he insisted and promised to have Haley and her friends back home a full week before Christmas. Haley accepted the offer.

After Dan spent a couple days relaxing with his dad, a stretch limo carrying Matt and Brian pulled up to the Naidoo's house. It was there to take them to the plane.

"Hey guys, where's Chris?" Dan asked as he climbed in.

"He and Haley are going to meet us at the airfield." Matt replied.

"Has anybody heard from Steve recently?"

"Yes," Brian answered. "He's doing fine, but I bet you can't guess who has been staying at his house the last few days."

"Gee, how should I know? Ashley from Science Camp?"

"Pretty close, but think red hair."

"You're kidding, Tammy? Tammy Taylor?"

"Bingo! They haven't been separated on a weekend for the past two months."

"That makes sense." Dan was thinking aloud. "Tammy's mother and father died in a car crash a few years ago, and it's pretty clear she became the parent. Both Steve and Tammy were childhood prodigies and she is very pretty when you get past the red hair and freckles."

"Am I detecting a little jealousy? Do you have a crush on the Wendy's girl?" Brian teased.

"You don't have to worry about Dan," Matt said. "He only has eyes for Steve's little sister."

"She isn't a little girl anymore!" Dan said.

It took the limo thirty minutes to reach the private airstrip located in western Marion County. In that time, they managed to catch up on local hometown chatter and empty the snacks from the limo's minibar.

They rode through thick woods for the last ten minutes before a large clearing revealed the private airstrip. Claude waived from the door of the gleaming new Gulfstream G200.

"I can't believe this is real!" Brian said to Claude as they climbed the steps. "We are flying to Australia on a gas-guzzling private jet! I don't think my parents would approve."

Chris and Haley greeted them inside as they boarded. The boys were pleasantly surprised to see Steve and Tammy. Dan was particularly happy to see one additional unexpected passenger, Linda.

"This is gonna be epic!" Dan said as they greeted one another. Matt claimed one of the plush bucket seats.

"I counted eight individual seats. Looks like you are stuck on the couch Claude." Matt kidded.

"I'm in the catbird seat," Claude replied.

"What's that?"

"I'm your pilot." Then he said, "I hope you don't mind having a ninety-three year old pilot."

Steve thrust his arms in the air and wailed, "Oh my god, we are all going to die!"

Everyone was encouraged to hear Steve making light of the situation. After his parents' accident, he sank into a depression. Even now, it was obvious he was hurting. He had bags under his eyes and tracks from his tears.

Haley smiled as she looked around the plane. As much as Steve needed his friends, they all needed each other. Something inexplicable was keeping them together.

Chapter 35

### Australia

The flight was long and exhausting despite cruising at over 500 miles-per-hour. The plane made brief stops in Texas, California, and Hawaii before clearing customs in Australia. Haley joined Claude in the cockpit for the final leg of the trip from the Gulf Coast Airport in Queensland to Sydney Bankstown Airport.

The weather was sunny and warm when the plane landed. A black stretch limousine was waiting to take the weary travelers to the Park Hyatt Sydney Hotel. It was mid-afternoon, but everyone except Claude went straight to their rooms.

While the others were resting, Claude was attempting to make dinner reservations for ten people at the hotel restaurant, an establishment which normally had a two-week waiting list. The Park Hyatt Sydney was a 5-star luxury hotel with an unparalleled waterfront location between the Harbour Bridge and the Sydney Opera House. As he often did, Claude was successful in his efforts to arrange the evening meal. He requested the group meet with him at 6:30 p.m. in the lobby.

Dinner presented an opportunity to establish a few ground rules for the visit. The table overlooked the Sydney Opera House, but Matt and Brian were more fascinated by the dozens of sailboats which appeared to be playing chicken with a massive cruise ship departing the harbor. As the sun set, warm pink streaks of light reflected off the Opera House superstructure, gradually supplanted by the illumination of street lamps along the quay.

Most of those present were willing to disregard their empty rumbling stomachs while they watched the harbor lights, but the food presentation was even more entertaining.

A carefully choreographed procession of waiters and waitresses delivered mouth-watering meals fit for royalty, and which were as appealing to the eyes as to the palate. Each dish was designed with a personalized decoration. Dan's steak was topped with an intricate sculpture of the Opera House which he scoffed down without hesitation.

"I can't believe you ate it," Linda said. "That was a work of art!"

"And it was delicious too," Dan replied.

A young man named Carlos Ferrer was dining with them. The handsome man's well developed physique was evident beneath his expensive Armani suit. Linda and Tammy could not take their eyes off of him. Claude introduced Carlos near the end of the meal when the students' curiosity was peaked. He said Carlos would be the liaison, (i.e., chaperon) while Claude was taking a four-day trip to the mountains.

Claude was leaving in the morning for the Lamington National Park to see the rainforest and visit an old acquaintance. He said two friends cancelled at the last minute, so there was extra space for two people if anyone wanted to join the excursion.

Linda said, "I want to go." Then Dan also asked. His request prompted giggles from Matt and Brian. Claude smiled and appeared happy to have the company. Steve trusted Claude to take care of Linda, so plans were made. The three of them would leave early the next morning.

Claude and Carlos went back to their rooms after the meal. The students spent the rest of the evening on a leisurely stroll. They walked for over an hour, taking in the sights and sounds along the quay. The sky was clear, but even the stars couldn't compete with the twinkling city lights of Sydney. By the time they returned to the Hotel, their minds were already filled with pleasant memories, but Matt couldn't shake the notion someone was watching them.

Claude met Dan and Linda in the lobby at 6:30 a.m. the next morning and took a taxi to the airport. They flew back to the Gulf Coast Airport in Queensland to meet Claude's friend Samantha. She was a tall woman in her mid-thirties with ivory complexion, azure blue eyes, and long raven-black hair.

"Hello sweetheart," Claude said as the two embraced.

"Hello Dad."

The words came as a shock to Dan. He looked at Linda with a stunned expression, but she looked back as if to say, "how sweet." Dan knew Claude as the person who made things happen like Merlin the magician. He never pictured him as a father.

Claude had booked reservations high in the mountains at a place called O'Reilly's Rainforest Retreat. The four of them loaded the rental van and began their adventure. Samantha insisted, "This is my territory, I'm driving!"

She sped along the narrow mountain ridges like a stock car driver. The only stops were at a fern garden and two distilleries which the passengers needed to steady their nerves. When they arrived, an older couple welcomed them with open arms. The greeting seemed odd to Dan who assumed the pair had mistaken them for someone else. He soon realized the owners treated every guest like long lost children. It was part of the retreat's charm.

The Retreat was isolated like an island hidden on top of the world. It was designed to help visitors forget their tedious lives back on Earth. Linda and Dan walked together through the ancient forests on a suspension bridge high in the tree tops. They peered over Moran Falls with a majestic view of nature's grandeur. Spectacularly colorful birds flew from the trees to eat from their hands, then they dined in a cozy rustic restaurant with new friends.

The other students were beginning their own adventures in Sydney. Brian and Matt had begun their challenge to visit as many beaches as possible in four days while Chris, Haley, Steve and Tammy were taking a more traditional approach to sightseeing.

Haley had become a minor celebrity even in Australia. Carlos was concerned because she didn't have a bodyguard. He asked for a copy of her itinerary.

"This is the best I can do," Haley told Carlos as she handed him a hastily written plan. Then she added, "Australia is a beautiful and fascinating country. I can't guarantee we won't venture off course."

"Just remember," Carlos said. "You are the protégé of one of the richest men in the world. You are visiting an international city on the far side of the planet. Please be careful!"

"Thanks for the encouraging words," Haley said sarcastically, "but I can take care of myself."

The two couples began their first day out with a tour of the Opera House where they attended a play, followed by lunch at the ARIA Restaurant. It didn't take long before they started seeing a familiar face pop up in the crowd, Carlos. It soon became a game, find the hidden Carlos.

After visiting the Botanical Gardens, Tammy won the game by spotting the hidden Carlos five times as they walked along the Farm Cove perimeter path to the well-known tourist photo spot, Mrs. Macquarie's Chair.

On the following day, Chris convinced the others to ride the ferry to the Taronga Zoo. They wandered casually through the gardens, taking pictures at every opportunity with the iconic opera house in the background. A late afternoon compromise led them on a shopping trip to Darling Harbour where they stopped to eat pizza at Pancakes on the Rocks.

They were enjoying the harbor view in front of the convention center when a gang of ten young Asian men approached and surrounded them. Steve, Tammy, and Chris were very nervous until the men began performing a magic act. Every time one of them touched Haley, she seemed to disappear and rematerialize somewhere else.

Steve started to applaud when the apparent leader said something in Chinese and another revealed a knife pressed against Chris's side. It wasn't an act.

Haley began speaking to them in Mandarin which surprised everyone. Even Chris had forgotten Haley was trilingual.

"They want me to go with them," Haley said calmly.

"No way," Chris shouted as Steve and Tammy joined in the protest.

"I'll be O.K., you need to trust me. They won't hurt me." Haley tried to calm the others, but it was too late. Her companions were shouting and trying to draw attention. The leader took Haley while other gang members held Chris, Steve and Tammy.

It happened so fast that by the time security personnel and bystanders came to help, the gang members had slipped into the crowd. Haley was out of sight with the leader.

Chris, Steve and Tammy were screaming and trying to find Haley as officials worked to gain control of the situation. As soon as Tammy finished dialing Carlos' cell, she heard a ringing phone coming toward them. It was Carlos. He was wheezing heavily.

"Haley's been kidnapped!" They all shouted at the same time.

"I know; I followed them through the convention center, but they got away." Carlos replied, gasping for air.

Officials were talking to Carlos within five minutes.

"You said her name is Haley?" asked an officer.

"Yes," Carlos answered.

"We've found her. She's O.K.," the officer reported.

"Thank you God," Chris wept, his hands still trembling.

"I can't say the same for the guy who was with her," the officer said, his smile revealing morbid amusement.

"What happened?" Carlos asked.

"We don't know exactly, but we found him writhing on the sidewalk. His right hand was severed. The girl was trying to comfort him."

The officer shook his head and smiled. "Imagine that; the man kidnapped, tried to rob her and who know's what else, but she was still worried about him."

The man with the severed hand was rushed to the hospital for replantation, but Carlos and the students were taken to the Rocks Police Station to fill out a report. Haley was already being questioned separately.

The rest of the evening was very confusing. Police struggled to make sense of what happened. Haley explained that the man's hand got tangled in the cord when he tried to pull the medallion from around her neck. His hand was torn off when something startled him and he panicked.

The police had three problems with Haley's account. First, the necklace was a flimsy leather cord which should have snapped before sawing through the man's wrist. Second, the cut on the wrist was smooth like a laser rather than a jagged tear. Third, although blood splattered the sidewalk and the area where the hand was severed, there was not a drop of blood on Haley.

When Haley was released a little after midnight, police still could not explain what happened. The woman in charge of the investigation was furious.

"I have never seen anything like this. There is no rational explanation for what happened tonight, but we have been ordered to stop the enquiry and let you go. It is disgraceful!"

Carlos refused to leave Haley alone after the incident. He felt some responsibility for her abduction and was a little angry with Claude for placing him in a difficult situation. When Claude returned from the rainforest, Dan overheard the two of them arguing in the hotel lobby.

"She could have been injured or even killed," Carlos told Claude.

"I don't think so," Claude replied. "You don't know her like I do."

"What I know is that she is an eighteen-year-old girl. She's flesh and blood. No amount of training can protect her from the Qabalah."

Claude took Carlos by the arm, pulled him to the side and lowered his voice.

"Don't mention the Qabalah in public! Look, it's a lot more than training. Her physiology is different in ways you can't imagine, and she's protected by the medallion."

"That thing around her neck?" Carlos asked.

"Yes, it's a sophisticated symbiotic device. Quite frankly, we don't understand how it works, but it makes Haley practically invincible. You saw what it did to the kid who grabbed her. I suspect the Qabalah paid him to capture her, but the kid got greedy and tried to steal the medallion."

Instead of ruining the trip, the attempted kidnapping added an extra air of excitement. Every time Steve told the story, (and he loved retelling the story) it grew more sensational. In his version, the gang was twice as big and Carlos fought them hand to hand.

Linda and Dan considered their romantic trip to the mountains equally memorable, but Matt and Brian insisted their beach adventure was the most authentic Australian experience.

Everyone stayed together the next two days for security. They scheduled a city tour, harbour lunch cruise, and a day trip to the Blue Mountains. Claude arranged a twilight bridge-climb the last night before leaving. It was requested by Mr. Weston who considered it a good "team-building" experience. It was also good exercise!

Steve admitted to a "slight" fear of heights. He made it to the top of the Harbour Bridge with a firm grip on Tammy's hand. Tammy enjoyed the panorama of sparkling city lights from the top even though she had lost all feeling where Steve was attached. Chris held Haley, Dan embraced Linda, and Brian and Matt flirted with the pretty tour-climb guide. Harbor lights danced on the water while a gentle breeze lifted laughter of happy tourists from along the waterfront.

Haley whispered to Chris, "Do we have to go home?"

Chapter 36

### Christmas

Becky's restaurant was closed on Christmas day, but it wasn't empty. Ms. Shelby, Camille, Becky and Linda were preparing the Christmas meal.

Haley and Chris were spending the day with his family in Wildwood, but Becky made sure their seats weren't left empty. She convinced Steve and Linda to stay for the holiday.

Dan and his father considered themselves fortunate to be on the regular guest list. Becky said the meal was a Christmas gift to the people who helped her during the year, but she was being kind. The guest list also included Renee, Haley's Uncle Auggie, and Mr. Pearson who was the widower from down the street. It would be safe to assume none of them would have enjoyed a proper Christmas meal if it were not for Becky. Her one request was the men wear a coat and tie.

Dan enjoyed a light breakfast with his father on Christmas morning. A traditional seat at the table was set for Mrs. Naidoo despite her having been dead for eight years. Ernie offered his never-ending Christmas prayer of thanks.

Dan asked why it was necessary for him to be so long-winded.

"Why don't you say, 'thank you for all the blessings?' God already knows the specifics."

Ernie answered, "God knows, but we forget. We are blessed each time we give thanks because it reminds us of what we have rather than what we have lost."

His father's words reminded Dan of a millionaire who had recently committed suicide when his company failed. Even after liquidation, the man still had a loving family and considerable assets, but he couldn't see anything but the loss.

Dan thought, _"If he had taken time to give thanks, he may have seen what was obvious to everyone else."_

Many people were like that millionaire after 9/11. The United States had lost its innocence, but was still a wonderful place to live. Becky refused to be gloomy and reminded everyone to focus on life's blessings.

Dan and his father arrived at Becky's before noon. Steve, Mr. Pearson, Renee and Uncle Auggie were already inside. Becky greeted them wearing a long green velvet dress, leading them past an exquisitely decorated ten-foot spruce Christmas tree on the way to the porch. It was midday and Dan lagged behind to enjoy the melody of Westminster Chimes echoing in the great room.

"How do you do it?" Ernie asked Becky in admiration.

"How do I do what?" Becky asked modestly with a heavy southern accent. She knew what he meant, but didn't want to presume too much. Perhaps she wanted to hear him say it. If she wanted to hear the words, she may have been disappointed.

"All this," Ernie gestured, looking around the room at the decorations. "And this," he nodded up and down at her stunning dress, her carefully brushed hair and flawless makeup. "And this," he turned as Linda, Liz (Ms. Shelby), and Camille paraded in with a ham, a turkey, and a sweet potato casserole. They were also dressed in elegant gowns.

Becky nodded to the other ladies and replied, "We're a good team." Uncle Auggie initiated applause and the other men joined in with a whistle from Renee and a "Bravo" from Mr. Pearson.

The meal began after Auggie offered a long toast, followed by an even longer prayer from Ernie. They ate too much, laughed until their sides hurt, and talked until their throats were dry.

The main topics of conversation were life at school and the trip to Australia. Mr. Pearson spent the afternoon lavishing Liz Shelby with extravagant compliments. His flirtations were entertaining, but it became obvious her affections were reserved for Renee.

Mr. Pearson eventually realized the futility of his efforts and was the first to leave at four o'clock. The other guests were preparing to leave when Haley and Chris returned from Wildwood.

By the time Haley finished telling several amusing Christmas stories describing Chris' family, everyone was immersed in conversation again. Becky broke out the board games, and later insisted guests stay and share the leftovers.

Dan and Ernie helped clean up the mess at the end of the evening. It was midnight before they departed.

Despite efforts to consume the remaining food, Dan and his father carried home generous portions of pecan pie, turkey and ham.

\-----------------------------

As Dan prepared to return to school, he worried the mood would be melancholy. The Feds had officially cleared the Institute of wrongdoing in the 9/11 attacks, but a shadow of suspicion remained. Claude was also concerned and determined to steer the school in a positive direction.

The first day back was declared a day of celebration. It was an enormous party with celebrities and A-list musicians. Students were having fun, but there was another purpose for the events... attitude adjustment.

A long list of well-known motivational speakers inspired crowds from a temporary stage erected in the conservatory. Each student was given a simple assignment; "propose ways to improve the quality of life based on your field of study." It forced them to focus on what they had and what could be done rather than what had been lost.

Most were getting back into the academic routine within a couple days, but Haley's memories of a former life were distracting her. She had no idea what her dreams meant or what to do about them. They were no longer childish daydreams that could be disregarded, but vivid and sometimes frightening memories of events she couldn't understand.

When she was recruited by her Uncle Auggie, he said "the Institute needs your help as an interpreter for the archeological study of the ancient Nina Nizhoni civilization." He didn't say anything about her being a queen. Maybe he didn't know.

Regardless, Haley realized from the beginning that the ORION Institute was more than a school of archaeology. She had many unanswered questions, but was willing to overlook them in hope of uncovering her past.

The time for being polite was over. Haley needed answers and her attempted kidnapping raised even more questions. She had been patient long enough. It was time to confront Claude.

Haley entered Claude's private office and closed the door. Her hair was glimmering with static electricity and her eyes were glowing through her contact lenses. Claude took a deep nervous breath as he considered how much she looked like a Cobra preparing to strike.

"I don't like being used," she said.

"I didn't lie to you Haley. I wasn't sure you were ready."

"Well, I'm ready now. I'm tired of being treated like a child. I need to understand. I don't know who I am anymore!"

"Please have a seat," Claude said as he motioned toward the chair in front of his desk. "This may come as a shock, but you are more than a descendant of the Nina Nizhoni people. You are the personification of Queen Mahu Kuwanlelenta. It means...." Haley interrupted him.

"I know what it means. The mythical queen who will bring balance to the Earth." She paused, remembering her mother's bedtime stories. "Was she a real person?"

"No," Claude answered with a touch of sadness in his voice. "She was and is a product of genetic research and development. Despite their technological and biological advancements, the Nina Nizhoni civilization faded away. They tinkered with their genetics to the point of no return."

"Then who am I?" Haley looked bewildered. "What am I?"

"You are the last hope of an extinct race, the pinnacle of their technology, and their gift to mankind. As misguided as it was, the Nina Nizhoni tried to become immortal. They almost succeeded through a method of self-cloning and a technique to preserve memories from one lifetime to the next." Claude paused to choose his next words with care.

"What happened? Clearly, something went wrong," Haley said as she grew impatient.

"They ran out of time. They wanted to live forever, but repeated cloning damages the natural reproductive process. After a few generations, there weren't enough fertile people alive to maintain a viable genetic pool."

"So where did I come from?"

"Their best scientists gathered in an effort to create the most advanced human genetic design. The DNA was then embedded within recessive genes of the local Indians. When the vault was opened, a chemical agent was released. It activated the recessive genes in the Indian descendants. The chemical agent reached your birth-mother at the precise moment of comception and the Nina Nizhoni DNA was passively bonded with yours. You were born mostly human, but I guess you could say Queen Mahu Kuwanlelenta has always been with you."

"But why, for what purpose, and how many others are there like me?" Haley asked.

"The Nina Nizhoni didn't expect you to resurrect their civilization. They were attempting to pass along some of their knowledge to Homo sapiens. The DNA which is rearranging your cellular structure at this very moment represents the pinnacle of their technology. Your genetic code is linked to the vault and everyone on the planet with Homo princeps DNA."

Claude reached out and held Haley's hand.

"You are the only one of your kind. Your birth triggered the deactivation of similar recessive Homo princeps genes in all humans, so no others would be born."

"So I'm the example of a failed civilization," Haley sighed.

"You are so much more," Claude comforted her. "You are here to show us what is achievable, but at the same time warn us of what can go wrong when we play god. You are a gift from the past, a teacher and a leader. Your transformation will also help us with a more immediate problem."

"What are you talking about?" She asked.

"There are a few powerful men determined to destroy this institution and keep the world in a constant state of chaos. They were once Nina Nizhoni."

"What are they now? Didn't you say the Nina Nizhoni are extinct?"

"Yes, but these are corrupt clones. They have the ability to self-replicate with most of their memories intact. They also have other technologies which they have used to acquire enormous wealth and power. You won't find them on the Forbes Fortune 500 list, but they are wealthy beyond description. They have had thousands of years to accumulate riches and manipulate world events. We refer to them as the Qabalah."

"And you want me to fight them?"

"Oh god no! Fighting and killing comes naturally to the Qabalah. You can help us locate them. They hate you more than anything because you possess emotions they relinquished thousands of years ago. They will reveal themselves when they try to kill you."

"That makes me feel better," Haley said sarcastically.

She still had many questions, but her mind was spinning. She wanted time to think, analyze and organize the information.

"This isn't over," she said while turning to leave.

"I know," Claude whispered. "It's just beginning."

Chapter 37

### Family

As Haley sat in her room considering Claude's revelations, she realized that nothing mattered more than her mother's connection to the vault. Becky's involvement with the Institute raised some worrisome questions.

Did Mom and Dad know about me from the beginning? Did they love me or was I just a part of the job?

Even though she knew in her heart Becky loved her, Haley couldn't find the courage to confront her mother. She put up a brave front on the trip to Australia and on Christmas vacation, but now she felt frightened and alone. Questions were swirling in her head.

What did Claude mean when he said I was genetically engineered? Who are the Qabalah people who want to kill me? How will Chris react when he learns I'm not human?

The possible answers were terrifying, but she had no choice. She had to learn more. Haley steadied herself and went to answer a knock at her door. It was Becky.

"Oh Momma," she cried as they embraced.

"Claude called. He said you might need me," Becky whispered as she held Haley and wiped away the tears.

"Come in Mom, you haven't seen my place," Haley sniffled as she took Becky's hand and led her to the back of the apartment. She pressed a small button and the exterior wall became transparent like the back wall of the boys' apartment. A half-moon was perched a few degrees above the horizon in the clear night sky. It lit up the marsh like a giant spotlight.

Haley's mood quickly improved with her mother's arrival. She asked, "What do think of the view?"

"It is amazing sweetheart. This whole campus is incredible! Ben and I completed our work here before you were born. The last time I was here was in April of 1983 when they were breaking ground on the college. This whole area was nothing but woods, swamp, snakes and alligators."

"Come sit down Mom," Haley said as she settled on a leather couch. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked softly.

Becky gazed at Haley with an expression of remorse as she sat beside her.

"I didn't learn of your connection to the Nina Nizhoni until last year, and still don't know much. I should have told you right away baby, but I didn't know how. I hoped you would find some answers here at the Institute."

"Too many answers Mom. Every answer brings up a dozen new questions."

Becky realized what Haley needed more than anything else was to know she was loved. She spoke from her heart with tears running down her face.

"When we adopted you, Ben and I knew fate had brought the most beautiful child into our lives, giving us an opportunity we didn't think possible. You see, Claude knew an accident left me unable to give birth to a child of my own. You are a gift from Heaven, the best thing that ever happened to us sweetheart."

"How did you find out my connection to the Nina Nizhoni?" Haley asked.

"Your father never knew. I became suspicious when Claude called to insist we cancel the surgery set up by your ophthalmologist. He hadn't contacted me in years and I could not understand how he knew about your medical condition. I refused to cancel unless he explained."

"What did he say?"

"He wasn't very forthcoming at first, but admitted he and J. Alfred were the ones who left you in the motel room in New Mexico. He said he knew the surgery would not help your vision, but could be very dangerous."

Haley collected enough nerve to ask the most troubling question, not knowing if she was prepared to hear the answer.

"Was Claude telling the truth when he said I was a natural birth or was I created in a laboratory?" Becky reached out and held Haley's hands as she often did when Haley was a little girl.

"There were many things Claude didn't tell me, but he never lied. Your birth-mother was a Hopi Indian. Do you remember the stories I told you about the Kachina spirit Earth Mother?"

"Yes," Haley paused, lost for a moment in reflection of her childhood. "I loved those stories. The princess Kachina spirit rescued the world. The Hopi said she saved us from the koya, nis...." Haley couldn't remember the word and asked, "What was it called?"

"Koyanisquatsi, it means 'life out of balance,'" Becky said softly. "That story is part of an old Hopi legend that I thought made a pleasant bedtime story. I now realize it wasn't a fairy tale, and it was no coincidence that you have glowing eyes."

Becky leaned back as she shared everything she knew.

"Claude told me that when you were born, a medicine man declared you to be the physical reincarnation of the Kachina spirit Earth Mother and carried you to the Catholic Church. He said that is where he and Mr. Weston found you."

Haley stared at Becky with an expression of confusion. "What were Claude and Mr. Weston doing there?"

"Claude and Mr. Weston were looking for you. The man you call Anastasias became aware that you had been taken from your mother. He used the equipment in the vault to locate you."

Haley asked, "Why would a Hopi medicine man take me to a church?"

Becky paused before answering.

"Many of the Indians were forced to convert to Catholicism in the late sixteenth century. My guess is the legend of the Nina Nizhoni was altered to fit the new religion."

Haley smiled. "Whatever the reason, I'm glad I was left with you and Dad, but was it a coincidence that you were in New Mexico at the time?"

"No," Becky replied. "We didn't know then, but J. Alfred arranged to have your father and I assigned to the dig in New Mexico. Looking back, the whole situation was suspicious from the day we arrived until we adopted you. It was just so perfect we didn't dare question it."

Becky grabbed Haley's hands again to emphasize her next statement. "You should know Claude and his wife Noreen wanted to adopt you, but Anastasias stressed how important it was for you to grow up in a normal family, away from the vault. He insisted keeping you away until your eighteenth birthday was critical."

Haley acknowledged the answer and continued with her questions.

"How did you meet Claude?"

"We were all members of the Southeastern Archaeological Conference. "He recruited Ben and me for the initial excavation of the vault. It was very mysterious and the most exciting project your father and I ever participated in. You are the only thing in our lives that has been more rewarding."

"I love you Mom." Haley said.

"I love you too."

Haley spent the next hour telling her dreams to Becky and describing the subtle changes in her perception of other people. Becky comforted and reassured her. Haley was laughing and relaxed when there was another knock at the door. She opened it to find Chris holding a bouquet of flowers. He didn't wait to start talking.

"Claude stopped by to see me. He said you're a Queen. Of course I already knew that from the first moment I saw you, and I realized you are more than flesh and blood when I touched the medallion. I thought, she's an angel."

Chris pulled Haley close and whispered in her ear, "This changes nothing. I will love you forever."

"Hello Chris," Becky called from the couch.

"Oh Hello Mrs. King. I didn't see you."

Chris had phoned a few people and before the evening was over, most of Haley's friends had dropped by to support her. In a single night her feelings of despair were erased.

Anastasias correctly understood the importance of friends and family. All of the knowledge and power Haley was developing was meaningless without the support of those who loved her. She was back in Claude's office the following day, but in a much better mood.

"Thank you Claude for sending in the cavalry last night," Haley said with a smile.

"You're welcome. Did you get the answers you needed?"

"Most, but I still wish you would explain your relationship to Mr. Weston and the ORION Institute."

Claude explained, "Even though J. Alfred Weston and I appear to be the same age, he is my stepson. The ORION Institute was his idea and wouldn't be possible without his financial support. I need to go back a little over fifty years to tell you about John Weston, J. Alfred's father."

Chapter 38

### John Weston (Claude's Story)

Haley listened intently as Claude began to tell the story of how he met John Weston, his wife Noreen, and their son, J. Alfred.

\------------------------------------------

Before I knew John Weston (J. Alfred's father), he met and married Noreen Manning while they were both attending Yale University in New Haven, Connecticut. Noreen gave birth to J. Alfred only six months before Pearl Habor was attacked on December 7, 1941. John immediately enlisted in the Air Force and was sent to Europe. The separation was particularly difficult on Noreen who was left alone to care for J. Alfred while supporting the war effort at home. When John returned from the war, he promised Noreen they would take a vacation after completing his doctorate in Archeology.

John had a compulsive hobby which Noreen reluctantly tolerated. He loved conspiracy theories and wasted countless hours studying them. Noreen convinced him to abandon most of his wild ideas, but he couldn't stop thinking about a particular quote from Woodrow Wilson regarding the Federal Reserve Act. It read:

" _I have unwittingly ruined my country...no longer a Government by conviction and by the vote of the majority, but a Government by the opinion and duress of a small group of dominant men."_

A widely-held conspiracy theory speculated that a few bankers orchestrated the Federal Reserve Act of 1913 as a way to take control of the United States money supply. This was an outrageous claim, but President Wilson's statement compelled John to investigate. John became obsessed, devoting long hours examining newspaper articles and hunting down people with first-hand knowledge.

Important evidence came to light by the summer of 1947, but the strain of his part-time job, academic studies, and Noreen's insistence convinced John to put the research on hold. That is when he was offered a chance to come meet me in Florida.

John's Academic Advisor at Yale was Professor Arthur Wilson. I met him at conferences, read several of his books and considered him to be trustworthy, but I was still unwilling to reveal the location of the archaeological site. I mailed the professor a package with relics from the Nina Nishoni vault and requested a meeting at the Archbold Biological Station. It was foolish of me to think the school would conduct an exploratory dig based on artifacts alone.

Dr. Wilson was interested in my offer, but the secrecy made him suspicious. There was no way he could spare time to make the trip himself, and the University was reluctant to fund an expedition so soon after the war. As a compromise, the professor agreed to send a student on an informal fact finding mission. He offered the assignment to his favorite graduate student John Weston to travel along with his family.

John and Noreen jumped at the chance to take a working vacation to Florida with the University picking up most of the tab. As a bonus, they would be driving down in a 1946 Ford coupe. It was a surprise gift for the professor's brother Jimmy who had been assigned to the Air Technical Service Command at Hendricks Field outside of Sebring.

"What's the name of this place we're going?" Noreen asked John.

"Sebring, it's where a lot of rich and famous people go in the winter. I'm very excited! We will drive down in style and ride back on the train. Professor Wilson said we can stay in a grand hotel, the Kenilworth Lodge. We might even see some celebrities."

Noreen seemed unimpressed, telling John, "Never heard of it, but if Professor Wilson says it's nice, I'll take his word for it."

John spent the next few weeks planning the trip. He scheduled a leisurely detour down the west coast of Florida to Tampa, then across to Sebring. The professor gave him phone numbers for the Archbold Biological Station and his brother Jimmy.

The drive was pleasant at first, but after two days the Ford coupe's soft luxurious seats felt more like hard wooden pews in the church of eternal discomfort. Even though Noreen and little Alfred were both irritable following a sleepless night at a roadside motel in Valdosta, Georgia; John was determined to stay on his planned route. They continued down the west coast of Florida.

It was the last week of October, but the heat was relentless. There was no air conditioning and only a few signs of civilization had been seen for hours. As they traveled south on Highway 19, two attractive girls in bathing suits appeared along the roadside like a mirage. They were waiving at cars as they passed.

Noreen was startled and thought the girls needed help, but no excuse was necessary for John to pull into the parking lot. He wanted a break and something to revive their hot, tedious vacation.

The family had arrived at the newly opened Weeki Wachee Springs roadside attraction. John bought three cherry snow cones and they munched on the refreshing delicacies while enjoying the mermaids' underwater ballet. The subsurface theater was dark and cool. Little Alfred's eyes were open wide as he stood mesmerized by the beautiful women in this strange sunken world.

The exquisite creature swam effortlessly through the cool clear water. Her hair flowed gently behind, like a shimmering waterfall within a blue ocean. Her gaze met his, and her smile made him tremble. His outstretched hand tried to touch her...

"Alfred! Come sit down. Other people can't see the show," Noreen pleaded.

"Oh Mom! Please! I'm not hurting anything!" Alfred responded.

"He isn't bothering us," said a middle-aged woman sitting near Alfred. He was practically glued to the clear wall of the small underwater theatre.

"Well O.K., but stay there and be quiet," Noreen admonished.

The unexpected stop at the tourist attraction revived the family's outlook. They relaxed, cooled off, and Alfred's imagination kept him quiet for the rest of the day.

The afternoon went smoothly until they arrived at the Kenilworth Lodge in Sebring. Professor Wilson was unaware that it was a winter-only resort which didn't open until after Christmas. John and Noreen were disappointed, but were told a room was available at the local Sebring Hotel.

John decided to call his contact phone number before checking in. A young woman's voice answered. "Hello, Archbold Biological Station. May I help you?"

"'Yes, this is John Weston from Yale University. I'm trying to get in touch with Claude Gautier."

"Oh yes Mr. Weston, Mr. Gautier is away for the afternoon. He asked me to let you know that Mr. Archbold has invited you to stay here on the Station."

"Well that's very kind of him, but my wife and son are with me. We're hoping to find a room at the Sebring Hotel. It may be a little more comfortable than roughing it on the station."

The woman laughed. "You won't be roughing it at the Roebling Estate. It's a beautiful home with lovely gardens and peaceful trails to explore. We would love to have your family stay with us. And I would be more than happy to show your wife and son around the area while you and Mr. Gautier are working."

John covered the phone with his hand. "They want us to stay at their estate. Is that O.K.?" he whispered to Noreen.

She whispered, "La-di-da," then nodded. "O.K."

"We will accept if we can find a way to get there. Our car is a loaner that we are delivering to Hendricks Field for a friend."

"Do you mean the Sebring Air Terminal?"

"No, I was told Hendricks Field."

The young woman laughed again. "Well, unless you have a time machine, it will be the Sebring Air Terminal. Hendricks Field was closed two years ago."

John was silent for a moment. He was wondering, what else could go wrong? He responded, "I may need to call you back."

"Don't worry about a thing Mr. Weston. We will be expecting you. Just call if you need a ride. I will send a car."

Professor Wilson either forgot or was not aware of the Army air field transfer to civilian control. He didn't tell his brother about the car either. It was a surprise.

The confusion about the hotel and the air field left John wondering what to do next. He called professor Wilson's brother and they agreed to meet at the entrance to the air terminal.

"She's a real beaut," Jimmy said, referring to the Ford coupe. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate you bringing her to me. I'm sorry for the confusion, but for a college professor, my brother can be a little dizzy. I want to drive you to the Biological Station; it's the least I can do."

John accepted Jimmy's offer and in less than an hour they were approaching Archbold. The first thing they noticed was a tall water tank. It looked large enough to serve a small town. The residence looked more like a hotel than a house, and the landscaping was simple scrub with a few scattered pine trees.

Where is the glamorous estate? Noreen wondered.

It was impressive in size, but most of the buildings had loading bays like some type of industrial complex.

"Oh my, this isn't what I was expecting," Noreen said as she peered at the rugged landscape.

"Well it is a biological research station honey. I'm sure the inside is nice." John said, trying to reassure her.

It was slightly past 6 p.m. when they pulled up to the residence. A very short dark-skinned woman greeted them. She looked to be no more than eighteen years old. Her voice was soft and sweet.

"Welcome to Roebling Estate. I'm Elizabeth Shelby. Please call me Liz. I'm the receptionist, housekeeper, cook, and tour guide ... if you need one."

Liz invited Jimmy to stay, but he declined and sped off in his new car. Then Liz led the Westons inside. The home was decorated for the holidays which created a warm and welcoming atmosphere. John and Noreen were both relieved, but still wondering, why this location? It appeared to be in the middle of nowhere.

"I hope you are hungry. I have prepared supper." Liz said.

The house was filled with the wonderful aroma of fresh baked bread.

"Starved!" Noreen answered.

Liz gave them a tour of the main residence and then they took a few minutes to freshen-up before the meal.

I arrived at the house just before supper and waited at the table when they entered the large dining room. I stood to introduce myself.

"Good evening," I said. "I am Claude Gautier. It's an honor to have you as our guests."

John noticed that I was staring at Noreen. It was rude of me, but I couldn't help myself. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.

Chapter 39

### Murder? (Claude's Story)

Haley interrupted Claude, "Wait a minute! Are you talking about the same Noreen who is married to you?"

"Yes," he answered.

"Then what happened to John?" She asked.

"It's a long story. When I finish explaining how J. Alfred became my stepson, you'll understand."

Claude continued...

\----------------------------------------------

After I introduced myself to the Westons, I pulled out a model airplane and gave it to Alfred. The gift delighted him, but irritated John.

I'm not proud of what I did next. John was already annoyed with me, but I turned to Noreen, gazed into her eyes and kissed her hand. It is a common greeting in France, but John didn't take it that way. He had cause for not trusting other men around Noreen. Her beauty went far beyond the glistening chestnut hair, deep blue eyes and creamy peach complexion. She radiated charisma that excited men and charmed women.

"Mr. Gautier, we are here on business, nothing more," John said.

"Nonsense," I replied. "Florida is beautiful this time of year and I insist you take this opportunity to enjoy it." I looked directly at Noreen, "let me show you around."

John was a gentle man, but my unconcealed flirting with his wife was more than he could stand. His face turned red, fists tightened, and he stepped toward me. Fortunately, Noreen recognized the threat. She put her arm around John's waist, pulled him close and said, "Thank you Mr. Gautier, but we are very much looking forward to seeing the sights as a family."

Liz appeared at the perfect moment with the main course, and then she joined us at the table for supper. It may have seemed strange in 1942 for a black woman to mix with whites, but John and Noreen understood from Liz's demeanor that she was more than domestic help. She was part of our family.

Liz reached out to hold hands with Noreen on her left and me on her right.

"Claude, would you like to say grace?" She asked.

"Thank you Liz," I replied. Praying is not my strong suit, but I managed to put together an awkward prayer.

"Dear Heavenly Father, thank you for this food. Thank you for this beautiful day. Thank you for bringing this wonderful family safely to our community, and all the other blessings in our lives. In Christ name we pray, Amen."

"Amen," John, Noreen, and Alfred echoed.

"Must be Baptist," Liz said with a chuckle.

"Tell me Mr. Gautier, when are we going to visit this mysterious archaeological site you claim to have found?" John asked.

"Call me Claude. I plan to take you first thing in the morning, but it's important we spend tonight getting to know each other."

We discussed weather, conservation, and the beauty of nature as the evening progressed, but I avoided mentioning the archaeological site. We sat on the porch enjoying a lazy orange sunset, a comfortable fall breeze, and the solitude of the countryside. Alfred marveled at the number of stars he could see in the night sky away from city lights.

The official purpose of the trip was to determine if the undisclosed archaeological site was genuine and worth the school's investment of time and money. I think John realized that I saw it the other way around. I was trying to decide if John or Yale could be trusted as a partner.

After breakfast the following morning, Noreen helped Liz with the dishes as they planned how to spend their day. Liz was going to take Noreen and Alfred on a tour of the facility.

John and I prepared for the trip to the archaeological site. He was surprised when I told him that I wanted him to wear a hood over his head while riding in the truck.

"You must be kidding!" he protested. He thought I was joking, but I was serious.

"This is not negotiable. If the location of this site becomes public knowledge, it will be plundered and destroyed in a matter of weeks."

John reluctantly agreed, but said he felt like an idiot riding in the truck with a bag on his head. We traveled for forty-five minutes before stopping. Then I removed John's hood. The truck was parked in a small clearing surrounded by scrub with no trace of any road in sight.

A small corral confined a large army horse. I saddled the animal and helped John up behind me. Then the horse galloped into the wooded area. After a half hour, the growth became very thick. When we arrived at a second corral, John helped me enclose the horse and our journey continued on foot.

John said, "The vegetation in this area is different from the scrub back at the biological station. It's like a tropical rainforest. We couldn't have traveled more than forty miles." "How is that possible?" he asked.

When I didn't respond he noticed a machete in my right hand which was not being used.

"I'm getting scratched up pretty bad back here Claude," he complained. "Could you cut away a few more of those brambles?"

"Sorry John, but I can't risk making an obvious trail. The machete is for protection from Cottonmouth snakes. This place is full of them."

John stopped for a moment and looked around. "Thanks, that's one more reason to love this place."

"Relax, we're here!" I announced.

John recognized more inconsistencies in the local geography. We were standing in front of a fifty-foot wide granite mound.

"This definitely is not Florida Limestone," he noted.

"You haven't seen anything yet, look over here." I pulled back the tarp I had camouflaged with a thick coating of leaves and other debris. Underneath was a circular area three feet across in the middle of the stone. It was a golden door engraved with a precise representation of the Orion Constellation.

"My god!" Those were the only words John could say. He was stunned the same way I felt the day the ancient vault was exposed.

I told him, "Now you understand the need for secrecy. This discovery is worth a great deal more than buried treasure."

"It may be the greatest archaeological find in history!" John said. "The granite is hundreds of miles from the source. There is enough gold here to rival the pharaoh's tombs and these astronomical drawings appear to be pointing to the third planet in orbit around the red star Betelgeuse (Alpha Orionis). If this is authentic the implications are beyond comprehension."

I was comforted by John's enthusiasm. "You don't know how long I've waited to share this with someone, to see someone else experience the things I've been feeling for years. After stumbling upon this place, I began studying archaeology and read Dr. Wilson's work. He is a man I could trust to understand the importance of this site. To be honest, I was concerned when he sent you in his place."

"You can trust me," John said.

"I believe you," I answered. "The expression on your face told me all I needed to know. You are more interested in the mystery than the gold. Knowledge is more precious than wealth."

We spent the next three hours studying the site and the inscriptions, barely able to contain our enthusiasm while exchanging thoughts and theories. At the end of the day we camouflaged the site and returned to Archbold.

Liz met us at the front door. "I assume the day went well from the silly grins on your faces," she said with a smile.

John tried ineffectively to sound indifferent, "The site may have some potential."

Liz looked at Noreen with a suspicious smile and uttered a sarcastic, "Mm-hmm."

"Well, we had a wonderful time," Noreen chirped. "We spent the whole day exploring the station. I don't think I have ever truly appreciated nature, but Liz has opened my eyes. There are so many beautiful wildflowers around us I didn't notice before. Now I understand why this location is special. I want to show you a rare plant called the Scrub Morning Glory. It's not far from the house so we can go after breakfast tomorrow."

"Looking forward to it," John replied. "Did Alfred have a good time?"

"He fell in love with this place and had a wonderful time. I think he has decided to become a botanist."

John said, "That sounds like our little boy. Next week he will pick a different career. Oh by the way, where is Alfred?"

"He's in the attached warehouse helping a nice man named Walter take care of an injured bird. Walter is the uh, let me see if I can get this right, Avian Ecology, Endangered Species Management Program Director."

"That's a mouthful," John replied. "Are we sure Alfred isn't bothering anyone?" He asked.

Liz answered. "Everyone loves your little boy! One thing I have learned around here is a conservationist will talk to anyone who will listen, and little Alfred is a mighty good listener."

At breakfast the following morning, Alfred was full of energy. He was reciting statistics for plants and animals on the station. When he started to describe the scrub morning glory, it reminded John of Noreen's promise.

"Oh, I almost forgot. When do you want to go looking for that plant you mentioned?" John asked.

"I know where it is Mom, let me take him," Alfred shouted.

Noreen pondered the request for a moment and then answered. "O.K., I think it's a good idea for father and son to spend a little quality time together."

"Come on Dad!" Alfred squealed as he led John out the door.

John was amazed at how much information Alfred remembered from one afternoon, the name of plants, bugs, birds and even the buildings. They had been walking for about fifteen minutes when out of the corner of his eye, John noticed a man walking fast toward them.

The man wore a bowler hat, dark sunglasses and carried a long cane like a blind man. He bumped right into John.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, excuse me," the man said.

John felt a sharp pain in his ankle, but was more concerned with the man who bumped into him.

"Are you O.K. sir?" he asked, but the man didn't even slow down. "How odd," John thought, "the man was wearing a heavy cloak, and it is at least eighty degrees out here."

John began feeling ill as they walked farther.

"What's wrong Daddy?" Alfred asked.

"I'm a little woozy son. Maybe we better head back."

By the time they arrived at the house, John had a pounding headache and was having difficulty breathing. He said "it must be allergies" and told Noreen he was going to lay down and rest for a while. She let him sleep for a couple hours, but then started to get concerned.

When Noreen went to check on him, he was unresponsive. She saw his right ankle was severely swollen and discolored. She screamed, Liz came running.

"It's a snake bite! It looks bad. I'll get Walter, he will know what to do."

John was already dead. The venom had paralyzed his lungs and he suffocated, or he had a heart attack. Either way, he was beyond resuscitation.

Walter found puncture marks on John's right ankle. "It looks like a Cottonmouth," he said. "But I don't understand how he could be bitten without knowing. A Cottonmouth strike feels like a ninety mile-per-hour fastball. It isn't something you can ignore."

He asked Alfred if anything unusual happened on their walk. Alfred described the man who bumped into his father, and then he took Walter to the place where it happened.

When they arrived, Walter found a dead Eastern Coral snake. Its head had been crushed, perhaps by John's shoe. "How convenient," he thought, "but it makes sense because a Coral Snake's bite can be virtually painless and the venom is deadly. Was it possible John didn't realize he was bitten?"

The coroner's official report specified _Eastern Coral Snake bite_ as the cause of death, but under suspicious circumstances. Walter said that despite the evidence, "It does not add up. The bite marks were too precise and the venom was too potent. I think we need to find the man who bumped into John. Who was he? What was he doing here?"

Walter whispered to me, "John's death is very suspicious; he may have been murdered."

Chapter 40

### The Blind Assassin (Claude's Story)

As Haley listened to Claude describe John Weston's death, she remembered her own devastation when her father died.

"It must have been difficult for J. Alfred to loose his father so unexpectedly. Did he know the death was suspicious?"

"Not immediately," Claude replied. "A few years later he found his father's research concerning the Federal Reserve Act and discovered a startling connection with John's death."

"So what did he do? What did you do?" Haley asked.

"John dedicated a significant part of his life to finding those responsible and I've done everything I can to help."

"So do you have any idea who did it?" Haley asked.

"We think we know, the Qabalah."

Haley sat up straight. "How did John Weston get involved with Nina Nizhoni clones?" She asked.

"He was about to reveal the Qabalah's connection to the Federal Reserve act. It's complicated, let me explain."

Then Claude continued the story...

\----------------------------------------------

The director of the Archbold Biological Station was so troubled by John's death that he paid for the funeral expenses and to have the body shipped home. He even purchased train tickets to New Haven for Noreen and Alfred. He also sent Liz and me to represent the station. I felt a curious sense of guilt for John's death and an obligation to stay close if Alfred needed male support.

The funeral turnout was quite large with many students and most of the Yale faculty in attendance. Noreen, who was known for her cheerful and bubbly temperament, cried without ceasing. Many people didn't recognize her with the red face, swollen eyes, and a miserable expression.

Liz helped with the funeral arrangements and answered people's questions regarding John's death. I kept Alfred busy and assisted with legal paperwork. It was at the funeral that little Alfred started going by the name J. Alfred.

While standing in the receiving line, Alfred looked over at the casket and said, "He isn't coming back this time is he Mommy?"

Noreen felt her legs tremble. She nearly collapsed, but managed to answer between sniffles, "No, you are the man of the house now."

She instantly regretted her words.

"Mommy, you can call me John," Alfred said bravely. (He was named after his father, but his middle name had been used to avoid confusion.)

Noreen winced. She realized Alfred was trying to take his father's place, as if he was not allowed to be a child any longer.

"Why don't we compromise sweetheart?" She said. "We will call you J. Alfred. The letter 'J.' will honor your father. You will never stop being my little Alfred."

Noreen believed Alfred would soon drop the extra initial from his name, but from that day forward he insisted everyone call him J. Alfred Weston.

Liz went back to Archbold the following week, but I stayed in New Haven to conduct research at Yale and check on Noreen.

My initial infatuation with Noreen quickly grew more serious. I tried to respect John's memory, but was in love with Noreen from the first moment I saw her. She eventually agreed to marry me after a two-year courtship and gave birth to our daughter Samantha the following year.

After Smantha was born, Noreen agreed to move the family to Florida. I wanted to build our home on this property near the Tree of Life. A small inheritance had enabled me to purchase over two-thousand acres here when I discovered the vault in 1930. The depression made land cheap, so the logging company was happy to accept my offer without questions.

In order to prevent the builders from discovering the vault I covered the dome with dirt and assembled the foundation myself. We moved into the house in 1950.

During the move, Noreen found a box John left in the attic. It was marked conspiracy files. She asked me to take a look to make sure it was not something important before throwing it out.

A scribbled note in the margin caught my attention. It read, "blind man, black cape, bowler hat." I remembered Alfred's description of the man in the garden who bumped into John.

" _It probably isn't anything_ ," I thought, but decided to keep the box and read the files later.

Since the house here in Highlands County was so isolated we home-schooled J. Alfred and Samantha. Noreen and I shared tutoring duties and Miss Shelby came once a week to help. The children were both excellent students, but J. Alfred had an extraordinary aptitude for business.

I was searching for a way to make history lessons more interesting for J. Alfred soon after his fourteenth birthday. John's conspiracy files contained detailed notes on several significant historical events, so I gave them to J. Alfred to study. I asked him to make a comparison between his father's records and the history in his text books.

It was exciting for J. Alfred. The notes were his father's private writings, and the allure of intrigue was irresistible. I nearly wore the truck out driving him back and forth to the library. He quickly uncovered a conspiracy within a conspiracy, and it was personal.

After a month of studying the files and conducting in-depth research on his own, young J. Alfred was ready to make his presentation. He prepared the room for a formal production with charts, graphs, copies of documents, and handwritten transcripts of his father's interview of a witness. I couldn't imagine why, but he also included a copy of his father's death certificate and the coroner's notes. I was the only spectator, but the display was worthy of a much larger audience.

"My dad was murdered," J. Alfred announced, "and I know who did it ... well sort of."

I squirmed in my seat, realizing it may have been a mistake to give a child his father's personal records. Re-experiencing John's death could be traumatic, but I reluctantly let him continue.

"He was six-feet two, the same as my dad and carried a long walking stick. He wore a black cape, a bowler hat, and dark sunglasses."

J. Alfred's account helped me remember why I kept the files. It was the same description he gave years earlier of the man in the garden when John died. Suddenly this homework assignment was more than a history lesson. J. Alfred had piqued my interest.

"O.K. then," I told him. "You need to explain a few things:

"One - Why don't you accept the official death certificate which identified Eastern Coral Snake venom as the cause of your father's death?"

"Two - How did this mysterious man manage to carry out the act in the brief moment he passed you on the trail?"

"Three - Who was the man and what was his motive to kill your father?"

J. Alfred began to methodically present his case.

"I heard the man from the Archbold Biological Institute tell you that my father's death was suspicious. He was very familiar with snake bites and said the puncture wounds didn't look like those of a Coral Snake. Even the doctor who signed the death certificate admitted the docile and secretive Coral Snake doesn't strike like other venomous snakes; they need time to inject their venom. He also said no more than twenty percent of untreated Coral Snake bites are fatal, even after a sustained strike. Finally, my dad was injected with three times the typical amount of venom. That just isn't possible!"

Then J. Alfred showed me numerous pictures of poison tipped canes. They were from different credible sources confirming similar instruments had been used to commit assassinations in the past.

One particular passage from _A History of Murder_ , by Thomas Rosol read, "The weapon of choice for assassins of the Manchu dynasty was a poison tipped staff. The poison could be injected from the tip of the staff into a victim's foot or leg in an instant, allowing the attacker to escape without detection." Another passage indicated the injection marks were sometimes mistaken for a snake bite.

I had to admit it was possible for someone to poison John in that manner, but contended the Manchu dynasty ended forty years in the past. I asked, "Are you suggesting a Chinese assassin killed your father?"

"I'm just showing you how it could have been done," J. Alfred replied. "My dad's conspiracy documents answer a lot of questions. There are numerous files where he mentions a man similar to the one I saw at Archbold. That can't be a mere coincidence. People in Florida don't dress like that."

Then J. Alfred laid out several more files on the table. The first two described a shadowy person who wore a black cape and carried a long staff.

"The Order of the Illuminati were said to have met regularly with a man matching the description in 1777, and it has been documented that a similar man asked Cecil Rhodes to establish the Society of the Elect in 1877 to extend British rule throughout the world."

J. Alfred's well planned production was starting to sound childish. I tried to get him back on track.

"Now you're being immature." I said. "Those people died a long time ago."

"I know, I know," J. Alfred conceded. "But I also found two more recent cases. In both instances the man matched the description exactly including the bowler hat."

I released a heavy sigh and said hesitantly, "go ahead."

J. Alfred eagerly continued...

"Before passage of the Federal Reserve Act in 1913, two senators on the banking committee had a secret meeting with a man matching the description of the person I believe murdered my father. Several sources stated the final version of the Act was changed after that meeting. The altered version gave twelve privately owned banks legal authority to issue money, but most of the government oversight was removed."

I grew weary of Alfred's wild theories, so I tried to get him back on track. I asked, "What does any of this have to do with your father's death?"

"My dad was getting close to identifying the people who secretly changed the Federal Reserve Act. Those changes gave a few private bankers control of the U.S. money supply. I believe they murdered him to prevent the information from getting out."

J. Alfred pointed to John's handwritten interview notes.

"My dad interviewed the only known surviving witness to the secret meeting. The man was one of two reporters who observed the participants entering and leaving the building. He told my dad the other reporter died one week after revealing the meeting in an article for the Washington Star-News. The official cause of death was a Copperhead snake-bite, but he didn't believe it and neither do I."

I read John Weston's hand-written notes. They quoted the man saying, _my friend was murdered._

J. Alfred showed me the obituary which identified the cause of death as snake-bite, but it also pointed out that the incident was remarkably unusual. It read, _the Copperhead is rarely seen in the D.C. metropolitan area and there have been no fatalities in the past fifty years._

"My dad's notes say it was very difficult to get the surviving witness to agree to an interview because he was afraid for his life. He demanded anonymity, and said that anyone who learned of the meeting would be in danger."

"But why was John a threat to these people?" I asked.

"He published an article and was working on a follow-up." J. Alfred responded. "I found a letter in his files from the editor of _Intrigue Magazine_. It was dated one month before his death. They offered to pay him for the second half of an article titled _The Federal Reserve Conspiracy._ "

"Did you find the completed story?" I asked.

J. Alfred handed me a copy of the draft article John had written. It linked the 1913 Federal Reserve Act with the alleged 1933 conspiracy to overthrow President Roosevelt.

"The one thing both cases have in common is a person called the blind assassin. He was described as a tall man, wearing a cloak, bowler hat, dark glasses, and carrying a blind man's cane. That could be the man who killed my father!"

I told him, "You're jumping to a hasty conclusion. The part about him being blind makes sense, but I don't understand why he was called the assassin?"

J. Alfred took a deep breath and continued his presentation...

"The name 'blind assassin' came from the 1933 story describing a plot to overthrow President Roosevelt. The failed coup d'état was supposed to be non-violent, but Senator Babson exposed the plan when one of the people involved intended to kill the President. He said the strange man in a cape with dark glasses was a demented psychopath eager to commit murder which the Senator could not condone under any circumstances."

I told Alfred, "the evidence still doesn't seem strong enough to warrant John's murder."

Then he handed me a picture which was attached to the article. It was tattered, but showed the senior Senator on the Banking Committee in 1913 entering the building where the clandestine meeting was held. He was shaking hands with an unknown man who was wearing the cape, bowler hat, dark glasses, and carrying a long cane.

I admitted the picture provided a motive for murder. I said, "If the magazine knew about this photo, it is also possible the Qaballah knew. I agree thay your father may have been murdered to stop it from being published."

I gathered all the documents J. Alfred had carefully assembled and locked them in my safe. I think he understood when I suggested we couldn't go to the police. This was an investigation we had to do alone, and we have been working on it ever since.
Chapter 41

### J. Alfred (Claude's Story)

Haley seemed captivated by Claude's story. She was beginning undertand that J. Alfred was a gifted little boy with a tragic childhood, but couldn't reconcile that insight with the somber man she knew who owned the largest medical device and research company in the world.

Haley asked, "How did J. Alfred become so rich and what happened to his wife and child? My mother told me he had been married and had a daughter."

"You're right," Claude answered. "He was an ambitious boy who became a dedicated family man."

Claude continued the story...

\----------------------------------------------

I helped J. Alfred start a small business which made inexpensive non-prescription sunglasses. It was a simple mass-production process, but very profitable.

The IMICRON Corporation slowly became one of the largest manufactures of sunglasses in the world. J. Alfred reinvested every penny of profit into the newly emerging field of corneal contact lenses, eye drops, and medicines. From there, the business really took off.

By the time he entered Yale College in 1958, J. Alfred was already a millionaire. He joined the secret society Skull and Bones in his senior year to see if they knew anything that could help him find his father's killers. The Skull and Bones was essentially a good-ole-boy club where members shared influence and information to maintain their power and wealth. They had only heard rumors of the clandestine organization known as "Qabalah."

The Qabalah was said to be a true underground organization with connections in every corner of the globe. Skull and Bones members referred to them as Caped Crusaders because of the cloaks they wore. It was understood they were ruthless and powerful. "Don't mess with the Qabalah," was a common refrain heard by J. Alfred whenever he asked questions.

He shared the little he learned from Skull and Bones with me and we both vowed to continue searching for answers, and to determine if the Qabalah was responsible for John's death.

Between his passion for business and his quest for information about the Qabalah, J. Alfred had little time for anything else, but miraculously in 1962 he found the love of his life. If there ever was such a thing as love at first sight, J. Alfred experienced it with Angela.

He had recently finished his undergraduate work at Yale and was being haunted by recurring dreams of his father. He packed his Crown Imperial convertible and retraced the route his family had taken to Florida back in 1947 when Alfred was six years old.

When J. Alfred arrived at Weeki Wachee Springs, he decided to visit the mermaid show to see the American Broadcasting Company's new theater. He hoped to recapture some of the wonder he felt as a child. The attraction looked completely different, having expanded from a seating capacity of eighteen to five-hundred, but the mermaids had changed very little. Much to his delight, he was once again mesmerized by the girl behind the glass as he remembered his childhood dream:

The exquisite creature swam effortlessly through the cool clear water. Her hair flowed gently behind, like a shimmering waterfall within a blue ocean. Her gaze met his, and her smile made him tremble. His outstretched hand tried to touch her...

"Would you mind sitting down? We can't see," barked a large balding tourist irritated by the man standing in the middle of the underwater theater.

The man standing in the middle of the theater was J. Alfred. He slinked back into his seat, embarrassed by his peculiar behavior, but still captivated by the girl behind the glass. It was the last show of the day. An attendant told him the mermaid's name was Angela.

J. Alfred Weston was a rich, handsome bachelor whom girls had vigorously pursued all the way through college. But here he was, pining for a girl in a fish tank, acting like an awkward teenager.

"Excuse me," he said as the woman walked to her car with a friend. "Are you Angela?"

She was a little startled at first. It was not unusual for strange men with uncommon fetishes to stalk the performers. As their eyes met, she felt an inexplicable connection like the discovery of a long-lost friend.

"Hi, do I know you?" she asked.

"I was the guy touching the glass during your last show. This is going to sound weird." He took a deep breath. "I was here fifteen years ago when the theater first opened. I would swear that I saw you then."

"I'm not sure how to take that," Angela said with a laugh. That would make me a lot older than I am," but then she realized he was serious.

Rather than being insulted that he thought she could be that old, her fingers instinctively reached for his hand as she explained.

"You probably saw my mother. She was one of the first mermaids to perform. People say I look just like her."

J. Alfred's confused expression transformed into a mixture of comprehension and relief.

"I guess you could say I've had a crush on your mother since I was six."

"That's sweet," Angela said, "But you may have seen her last show; she died fifteen years ago."

J. Alfred was filled with awkward panic as he struggled to speak. "I'm so sorry, I don't know what to say!"

"Don't apologize," Angela said. "I shouldn't have mentioned it. You were being sweet."

"Would you let me take the two of you out for dinner?" J. Alfred asked.

Angela turned to her friend Cathy and whispered for a moment.

"O.K., but there's only one place in the area to eat. It's called the Bayport Inn. They serve great fish and German potato salad. Cathy will ride with me in my car, and you can follow in yours."

Both cars pulled into the parking lot at the Bayport Inn a few minutes later.

"Angela and Cathy!" said a man with a heavy German accent as he greeted them at the entrance to the restaurant. "It's nice to see you again. Who is your young man friend?"

"This is, uh, uh," Angela turned toward J. Alfred. "You know, I don't think you gave me your name."

"It's J. Alfred. Sorry, I'm usually a little less absent minded."

"Well Jalfred, pretty girls make me forget things too." The man said, intentionally mangling J. Alfred's name. "Right this way." He led them to a table in the middle of the restaurant.

Angela looked inquisitively at J. Alfred. "Jalfred? Am I saying that right?"

He answered, "It's J," he paused, "Alfred."

"I don't mean to be rude, but that comes across a little pretentious." Angela smiled and then added, "I bet you got beat up a lot on the playground."

He replied with little expression, "I was taught at home. My first name is John, but I go by the first initial in honor of my father who died when I was six."

"I am sorry," Angela said softly. "What's your last name?"

"Weston," he replied.

"J. Alfred Weston," she pronounced as if making a ceremonial proclamation. "It sounds very distinguished."

Angela's friend realized she was being ignored and interrupted, "Hello? My name is Cathy, I'm Angela's friend."

Both Angela and J. Alfred laughed nervously, trying to conceal their instant attraction for the other. The magnetism was apparent to Cathy, the waiter, and everyone else in the restaurant.

"Cathy," Angela chuckled, "I'd like to introduce my friend Jalfred."

"How do you do Jalfred?" Cathy cackled as she extended her arm to shake hands. J. Alfred accepted her hand, pulling it to his lips."

"It is a pleasure my dear lady," he said with a slight bow of his head. "Now tell me, what do you lovely ladies enjoy doing, other than teasing unwary visitors?"

"Most people think we get tired of being in the water with our jobs, but most of our free time is spent enjoying the river," Angela replied. "It's my home."

Cathy said, "Angela has a cabin on a beautiful property where the river meets the Gulf. It's the perfect place to launch your boat."

"I'm sure it is," J. Alfred chuckled.

Cathy continued with a playful smile. "If you travel left up the river, you enter a beautiful world of familiar plants and animals. If you turn right toward the Gulf, you enter a realm of endless horizons and infinite possibilities."

J. Alfred said, "You sound like a poet."

"I know it's trite, but the river inspires me," Cathy replied.

Angela said, "I am having a few friends over to my place tomorrow. Would you like to come by and see it?"

"I would love to," J. Alfred eagerly replied.

\---------------------------------------------

J. Alfred became good friends with Cathy, but fell deeply in love with Angela. He stayed the summer with Claude and Noreen in Highlands County, but made frequent trips to Bayport.

\---------------------------------------------

"You are going to wear out your car driving to that girl's house every day," Noreen teased.

To get Angela to stop calling him Jalfred, J. Alfred deliberately mispronounced her last name of Weisenberger as Weeeesinbooger. Angela relented, but refused to call him J. Alfred. Instead she called him "Al," but insisted, "Jalfred will always be my secret code name for you. This is important, **if you ever receive a message addressed to Jalfred, you will know I'm sending you a sign**."

Both Angela and J. Alfred had lost a parent at an early age, and they had many other things in common. They enjoyed living close to nature, had a strong faith in God, relished sporting arguments, and shared an insatiable scientific curiosity.

The happiest days of their lives were spent together at Angela's cabin that summer. The building was a little tattered, but the three-acre lot with ancient oak trees and endless gulf views became their personal paradise.

As they grew closer and shared intimate secrets, Angela explained how her mother had been struck by lightning and died in 1947. When J. Alfred learned the exact date was Sunday, October 26, he almost fainted. His childhood visit to the mermaid show occurred the day after she died.

Had he seen the ghost of a dead woman? He reasoned, maybe the mermaids all looked alike to a child... maybe.

By the start of fall, J. Alfred sensed Angela was keeping a secret which was bothering her. He decided to force the issue.

"Spill it. There is something you've been wanting to say."

Angela took his hand and led him to the front porch. They sat on an old wooden bench without conversation until she worked up the nerve to speak.

"I have chronic myelogenous leukemia. I am taking 6-mercaptopurine and in remission, but the cancer could can back at any time. I wanted you to know before we get any more serious."

A single tear ran down J. Alfred's cheek. "I could not be any more serious. I love you and I want to get married as soon as possible. Will you marry me?"

"No," Angela quickly replied. She was afraid J. Alfred's proposal was being offered in sympathy, or without thinking it through. However within a week it became clear J. Alfred would keep asking until she said yes. She accepted on his seventh proposal, and Noreen helped organize an outdoor Christmas day wedding at Angela's home.

After the wedding, J. Alfred and Angela moved to a beautiful house in New Haven, Connecticut. The business headquarters was located there, but they kept Angela's cabin for vacations. In September 1963 their daughter Rebecca was born.

Chapter 42

### A Mermaid's Message (Claude's Story)

Claude told Haley about J. Alfred's wife and daughter, and how tragedy led to J. Alfred's involvement in and founding of the ORION Institute...

\----------------------------------------------

Afer two years at home with Rebecca, Angela started working for the IMICRON Corporation. Her introduction of stylish sunglasses in bright colors with sleek contours produced skyrocketing profits for the company. J. Alfred reinvested the earnings into development of soft contact lenses which led to even greater profits. The couple worked together like zealots the first few years of their marriage and rarely left New Haven except for business.

George Wald won a share of the Nobel Prize in 1967 for his study of pigments in the human retina. He was a good friend of J. Alfred who had been conducting comparable research in his commercial laboratories. J. Alfred and Angela celebrated the award as if they had won it themselves. They traveled to Florida before Christmas and stayed until March, spending most of the time at the little cottage in Bayport.

J. Alfred diversified the family's financial holdings to include pharmaceuticals, medical devices, gold, and even farmland. By 1967, he was one of twelve billionaires listed in Forbes.

Despite their busy work schedule, Angela and J. Alfred enjoyed an entire month every winter with Rebecca at their cabin in Bayport making wonderful memories.

Angela's cancer was in complete remission for over ten years, but she had a relapse in early 1973. J. Alfred hired the best doctors and specialists, but when Angela's health didn't improve, he brought her here to be near the Tree of Life. He remembered the stories I told him of my own recovery when I first discovered the tree, but I tried to warn him that we couldn't predict what effect the Tree would have on cancer.

Sadly, Angela died two weeks later. We don't know if the tree had anything to do with it, but J. Alfred was convinced that he hastened the decline which led to Angela's death.

He was overwrought with guilt for bringing her here, loaded with regret. He obtained a special permit to bury her behind the beloved cottage in Bayport.

Rebecca was the only thing keeping J. Alfred from falling into hopeless despair. She needed her father, and that gave him a reason to persevere. They returned to New Haven after the funeral, but any hope for true happiness seemed lost.

When the date arrived for the annual Florida vacation, J. Alfred delayed the trip in an effort to avoid painful memories, but on a cold Connecticut day in January he and Rebecca packed the car and headed south.

It was sunny and warm when they arrived at the cottage in Bayport. They sat on the porch for hours, recalling happy memories of Angela.

"Daddy, I want to go see the mermaids," Rebecca pleaded.

Some of Rebecca's sweetest memories were when Angela performed at Weeki Wachee Springs once each year with other former mermaids. J. Alfred and Rebecca were always there to watch and support her, but now the memories were painful for J. Alfred. He didn't want to go back, but couldn't say no to Rebecca.

He took Rebecca to the last show of the day and sat on the back row even though the building was almost empty. Rebecca ran to the front of the theater and pressed her hand against the glass.

(In her performances, Angela had always pressed her hand to the other side of the glass in a sign of love and connection to Rebecca.)

J. Alfred was relieved when the show ended. He was still wiping tears from his eyes when they walked to the car.

"Daddy? Do you remember when Mom promised me one day we would build a house like my dollhouse?" Rebecca asked.

"Yes," he replied.

Rebecca smiled. "Mom said it's time."

"Time for what sweetheart?"

"It's time to build my dollhouse. Mom said you need a project. She said you're happy when you have a project to work on."

"When did Mom tell you this?"

"During the show. She was swimming with the other mermaids."

J. Alfred was not sure how to react. Was Rebecca's imagination healthy? Should he explain death to his daughter?

"I'll think about it sweetheart," he said.

Rebecca reached out for J. Alfred's hand. "Mom told me to say hello to Jalfred. She said you would understand."

J. Alfred was stunned, but still hesitant to believe Rebecca's story was really a message from Angela.

The following day the toilet backed up, the kitchen light switch stopped working, and a heavy leak developed during a rain storm.

"Mom's trying to tell you something Dad," Rebecca said.

J. Alfred shook his head at the irony of a billionaire placing a pot on the floor to catch the rain from a leaky roof. "I hear you Angie," he whispered and contacted a contractor that afternoon.

He flew an architect from New Haven and hired a building contractor from Tampa to design and build Rebecca's Dollhouse, the most distinctive and beautiful house in the county. He repaired, but didn't change anything in Angie's cabin.

J. Alfred lured Elizabeth Shelby away from Richard Archbold and hired her as a live-in au pair for Rebecca. No one would ever replace Angela, but J. Alfred knew Rebecca loved Liz Shelby.

He reduced his workload and conducted most of the remaining business from their Bayport home for the next few years. Noreen and I visited often and Samantha also stayed for long periods, turning the empty house into a family home filled with laughter and love.

From the day she was born, Rebecca was a delicate creature. Her soft touch and tranquil gestures were part of her charm, but in the spring of 1980, J. Alfred began to recognize some alarming symptoms. Rebecca had leukemia, a different strain of the same cancer that killed her mother. By the time her illness was diagnosed, it was too late. She died within a month. The disease was probably present for years, but her gentle nature concealed the symptoms until it was too late.

Once again, J. Alfred was tortured with guilt. In hindsight, the warning signs were obvious. His first instinct was to have the house torn down, but it held too many memories of Rebecca. Her last request was to be buried under the old oak tree in the back yard next to her mother.

J. Alfred collected enough strength to ask Liz Shelby to stay and maintain the house. Liz's love for the community and strong friendship with a local woman named Sarah Naidoo persuaded her to remain in Bayport.

Noreen was concerned for J. Alfred's mental health and safety after the funeral. She insisted he come stay with them at the house in Highlands County. He reluctantly accepted and went straight to his old bedroom where he slept for two days.

Doctors prescribed heavy doses of antidepressants, and J. Alfred continued to spend most of the next two months in bed. When his misery became manageable, he took an extensive tour of the property.

It must have looked a lot different from what he remembered as a child. I had worked hard to clear the entire two-thousand acres from a thick treacherous wilderness into an inviting park-like setting. I even added a screened gazebo under the Tree of Life, but that was the one place J. Alfred refused to go.

After keeping my discovery secret for fifty years, I was prepared to begin a serious excavation of the ancient site. It would require careful screening of all the people involved. It made sense to ask J. Alfred to join the team. Noreen was relieved when J. Alfred accepted the job and threw himself into the work.

A great deal more was accomplished than clearing land and building a gazebo during the previous twenty years. Samantha had discovered a separate cavern under the house containing obscure writings and I dedicated myself to studying them.

They included the schematics for the first microprocessor and the microwave oven. I sold the information anonymously to a government contractor for millions of dollars through an underground auction.

Most of my original inheritance was used to purchase the Highlands County property, but with the sale of new technology and J. Alfred's substantial backing, we had enough money to privately fund a secret dig of the site with our own hand-picked team of archaeologists.

Samantha was jubilant when she learned more people would be allowed on the property. Spending her entire childhood living on a secret archaeological site had severely limited her personal life. She dreamed of moving to Australia, but was not willing to leave Noreen alone.

I tried to be a good husband, but left Noreen alone far too often as I worked into the night. Now with more visitors and J. Alfred at home, Sam felt free to go.

While attending archaeology seminars over the years, I developed friendships with many of the preeminent scholars in the field. Two of my favorites were the husband and wife team of Ben and Becky King.

They had recently returned from an overseas excavation searching for the Ark of the Covenant with archaeologist Ron Wyatt and his sons. I invited them to dinner here on the site.

"You have a beautiful home Noreen," Becky said as we were preparing to sit down for supper.

"Tell me Claude, what did we do to warrant an invitation to the most enigmatic residence on the planet?" Ben asked with a grin.

"We do enjoy our privacy, but I didn't realize we had garnered such a reputation," I replied.

"Oh yes," Ben chuckled. "Some rumors say you are hiding an alien space ship. Others say you have found the Lost City of Z.

"What do you think?" I asked.

"I think you have discovered the Fountain of Youth because your lovely wife never gets any older."

I looked at Noreen and winked. "You're right Ben," I paused before adding, "Noreen looks as beautiful as the day I met her."

After supper, the four of us sat down for a long philosophical conversation on the balance between sharing information with the public and the need to protect the integrity of an ancient site.

I discussed the situation in hypothetical terms, but was so impressed with your mother and father that I offered them a job that night. They accepted without conditions and were glad they did when I led them to the basement and showed them the door to the vault. They immediately realized it was ancient, but with a futuristic or alien design.

Ben and Becky used vacation time and shuffled their schedule to disguise their visits to the site. Before opening the main vault, they helped me construct a climate controlled chamber around the main entrance.

In December 1982 (over fifty years after I discovered the site) we used a hydraulic tool resembling the Jaws of Life to open the door. A sweet gas with a scent similar to Sandalwood rushed from the chamber. Noreen, Ben, Becky, and J. Alfred were there with me. We entered an enormous cavern, but it was an unnatural structure filled with what appeared to be inactive technical equipment. The room was dark, but warmer than the ambient temperature. We knew something was generating extra heat, but there was no light or movement.

As we studied and tagged the artifacts, we came across a large crate which looked like a casket. It was different from anything else in the room. When I lifted the lid, we all got a terrible shock. A body was inside dressed like the man who we believe killed J. Alfred's father. He was also about the same size. I swallowed hard to gather my nerve and checked for a pulse. There was none, but we had no doubt he was alive. We postulated that he must be in some form of stasis.

We closed the crate and everyone agreed that more information was required before anyone would try to resuscitate him ... if it could be done. It was not as much fear of the man (who looked like a movie vampire) as it was not knowing how to proceed. The wrong action could harm or even kill him. Ben made light of the situation by bringing a "Do Not Disturb" sign on his next visit and hanging it on the box.

After exploring the vault, we realized that we were in over our heads. There was no way five people could undertake a project of this size and complexity. We needed a large team of archeologists and scholars from other fields of science.

Our problem was that people on the outside were becoming more curious about the site, so the question we needed to answer was, how to bring in additional scholars, scientists, and other experts without raising more suspicions?

J. Alfred suggested the creation of the ORION Institute as a cover. It would be a university with the stated mission: "To seek the most exceptionally qualified students of all backgrounds from around the world and educate them at the highest levels to change the world for the better."

Noreen laughed at the charter, "It's a cliché," but then she added, "I guess it serves our purpose."

J. Alfred invested a large portion of his immense wealth to achieve one on the most ambitious construction projects ever undertaken, and the vault provided many of the advanced architectural designs.

A small city emerged in the jungle and the institution's staff grew to over three hundred. The school appeared impressive on paper, but most of the staff were archaeologists working in the vault.

The construction of the Institute was progressing smoothly, but some information leaked regarding the archeological site. Most people didn't take it seriously because we actively encouraged alien spaceship rumors as a distraction. J. Alfred's wealth also enabled us to obtain the best security on the planet.

You were born nine months after the vault was opened and then everything changed.

Chapter 43

### The Jack in the Box (Claude's Story)

"So what do you mean 'everything changed' when I was born?" Haley asked.

Claude described the cascading events which coincided with her birth.

\----------------------------------------------

There were at least two dozen scientists and technicians in the vault on the morning of September 11, 1983. They worked hard to understand the intricate devices in the months before your birth, but could not get anything to function.

At precisely 5:03 a.m., every artifact in the room lit up, started humming or in the case of the man in the box (you know him as Anastasias), sat up in his casket.

The blood curdling screams of at least two technicians rattled the windows as they witnessed Count Dracula coming to life. His black cape and pasty white complexion accentuated his bizarre appearance. As he blinked hard, rolled his glowing eyes and moaned, the room was emptied of humans within thirty seconds.

Dozens of distinguished scientists could be seen hiding behind bushes and nervously peering around trees as the tall pale man emerged from the vault. His walk more closely resembled Frankenstein than Dracula.

He staggered outside and covered his eyes as if the barely perceptible light was blinding him. He put on what appeared to be a pair of welding goggles.

J. Alfred, Noreen and I heard the commotion and ran out of the house. The strange man was standing on the porch.

"Hello," he said.

"Hello,' I gasped. It took me a minute to realize the man came from the casket in the vault. "Do you speak English?" I asked.

"Yes, I seem to have a rather extensive vocabulary," the man replied with an expression of satisfaction.

"How ... how is that possible?" I asked.

The strange man cocked his head slightly. "It appears in your efforts to translate our writings, you downloaded much of your language into our collective processing unit for conversion. The information was passed to me through my continuity pod."

I asked him if he had a name.

The man replied with an unintelligible sound, "Blosviduixxxtp."

"Is there an English translation a little easier to pronounce?" I asked.

"Yes," he replied, "Custodian."

I felt like it would be strange to call the man Custodian, especially since he probably knew more than all our scientists put together. I thought for a moment and then asked, "Do you mind if we refer to you as Dr. Custer?"

He didn't object, but said the title was unnecessary.

I explained that the designation was for our benefit. I told him,

"We have occasional visitors who may find it odd if our scientists keep asking the janitor questions."

Dr. Custer seemed amused and smiled. It was somewhat reassuring to know the strange man had a sense of humor.

"What brought you out of stasis?" I asked.

"It was initiated by the Queen's birth."

I was confused and a little frightened, wondering if we were helping the people who killed John Weston.

"The queen? I asked. "What are you talking about?"

"She was born early this morning. We refer to her as Queen Mahu Kuwanlelenta. Her birth produced a biological signature which was released into the atmosphere. My resuscitation and the activity in the area you call the vault is in response to those signals."

I asked, "What does this queen person have to do with this vault?"

"Without her, nothing in the vault will operate. If anything happens to her, everything will shut down."

"Why, who is she?" I asked.

"She is the genetically engineered culmination of the Homo princeps species, purified through many generations within the human genome."

J. Alfred and I were both getting very nervous.

"Are you the interface with the vault," I asked.

"I am the Custodian," he answered. "My function is to maintain the vault for the Queen. She is our gift to you and will help you avoid the mistakes our people made."

J. Alfred, several scientists and I met with the man for three hours. He recounted the Nina Nizhoni's growth and eventual demise.

He explained the purpose of the vault was to preserve technology and teachings, including mistakes which led to his civilization's virtual extinction. He claimed to be a clone who had been in stasis for over ten-thousand years, but was now the human equivalent of sixty years old. Normal aging would resume outside of his continuity pod and he could clone himself once more in ten years. He would die of old age within eighty years after the final cloning process.

J. Alfred was most interested in Dr. Custer's resemblance to the person suspected of murdering his father. He asked, "Are there others like you?"

"It is possible," the man answered. "If they still live, they are powerful and dangerous remnants of the technologists who betrayed the Nina Nizhoni ten thousand years ago."

"If they are still alive? How could that be?" I asked.

"They are clones," Dr. Custer replied. "But unlike me, there is no limit to the number of times they can replicate. Each of our individual lifespans is similar to Homo sapiens but memory cloning technology enables them to replicate with their memories intact. The cloning procedure was eventually forbidden by the Nina Nizhoni, but it was too late."

"Too late for what? Why was cloning forbidden?" J. Alfred asked.

"It leaves the host infertile after repeated use. The Nina Nizhoni became so addicted to extending their individual lives they could no longer support a viable population. Natural offspring could not be produced ... even in the laboratory."

"So who are these technologists you spoke of? Why do you think they may still be around?" I asked.

"In their final days, the Nina Nizhoni's Elder Council voted to accept the inevitable extinction of the species with dignity and allow Homo sapiens the opportunity to dominate the Earth. When the vault was being completed, the Council intentionally excluded the technology responsible for their own demise, memory cloning."

"What about you?" I asked. "Aren't you a clone?"

"I am the lone exception, but as I told you, my genetic material will become unstable after a single replication."

I asked, "If that is true, then why do you think other clones may be alive?"

"The decision to accept extinction was not unanimous. The same faction of technologists who created memory cloning rebelled against the council. They escaped with the most advanced technological devices and vowed to prevent Homo sapiens from controlling the Earth."

J. Alfred suddenly realized the fugitive technologists might be the people mentioned in his father's conspiracy files.

"I learned of a secret society called the Qabalah," he said. "They have been around for centuries and linked to numerous assassinations. I think one of them murdered my father."

"That would not surprise me," Dr. Custer replied. "A side effect of memory cloning is the impact it has on the Ventrolateral Frontal Cortex region of the brain. Repeated cloning results in a complete lack of conscience. If the clones still exist, they are certain to be psychopathic without empathy or remorse."

"Will the equipment in the vault tell us if these clones are still alive or if they are part of the Qabalah?" J. Alfred asked.

"Yes, but it is limited to tracking biological interactions. In other words, the device I call the Quantum Biomolecular Interactive Field Indicator will reveal the existence of Homo princep clones, but it won't tell us where they are or what they are doing."

I was still troubled about the queen he mentioned, so I asked if we could meet her.

Dr. Custer laughed and said, "Perhaps you misunderstood. She was born early this morning. She is a baby. I will watch over her as she grows and after eighteen years living among humans, we will send someone to initiate her transformation."

"Eighteen years!" I said. "That's in the next century! What are we supposed to do until then?"

"Prepare for her arrival," Dr. Custer answered.

\---------------------------------------------

And we did. Our scientists learned more about the artifacts in the next few weeks than we had in the entire time since the vault was opened. The mysterious man from the box continued to maintain the equipment and was known by four names: Custodian, Dr. Custer, Archie, and Anastasius.

We used what we found in the vault to build a preeminent institution of higher learning, unparalleled in faculty, facilities, political connections and innovative architecture.

Over the next eighteen years, Dr. Custer worked with J. Alfred and me to keep you safe. As you now know, you are the Queen.

Chapter 44

### Eighteen Years Later

As Claude finished describing J. Alfred Weston's life and discussing the history of the ORION Institute, Haley found herself wondering more about her own childhood.

"Please don't take this the wrong way. I'm glad I was adopted by the Kings, but still wonder why you kept me away. This is where I belong. Just imagine how much I could have learned in eighteen years."

"There is much for you to learn here, but the most vital lesson is what it means to be human. It is a lesson you could only learn with a family away from this place."

Claude gazed at Haley with affection. "Noreen and I wanted to adopt you, but Dr. Custer assured us that it was essential to let you develop naturally in order to unleash your full potential. Any knowledge of your genetic heritage may have prematurely revived your subconscious memories."

Haley sighed in resignation, "It would have been so much easier if I had known why I was different."

"Maybe," Claude said, "but your perception of humanity would be altered. You would always be an outsider."

Haley couldn't let his comment go without a response. She was thinking of her eyes when she said, "In a way, I have been alone my whole life!"

Claude smiled. "Every person on Earth experiences loneliness at some point, even if they don't have glowing yellow eyes. We have a deep yearning to belong and try to find it in our families, churches and a thousand other places. It is part of what makes us human." He held her hand and whispered, "You are more human than anyone I know."

Haley smiled as if she was imagining something funny. Claude asked, "What is so amusing?"

"This is where Chris would say, 'We are all born with a hole in our heart that only God can fill.'"

Claude studied the tender expression on Haley's face. "You love him don't you?"

"Yes, but I don't want to talk about that. I would like to know what the Etz Chayim symbol means and why do Chris, Brian, Matt, and Steve have it burnt on their feet?"

"We are working on it," Claude replied. "It was engraved on the outside of the vault and on your medallion. Our best guess is it relates to a piece of technology stolen by the Qabalah. Anastasias thinks it is an interface between Homo sapiens and the Nina Nizhoni."

Haley was troubled by his answer. "I thought there was no significant difference between the two species. Why would we need an interface?"

Before Claude could answer, she continued. "I have had several physicals and except for my skin and eyes, the doctors found nothing unusual. You said my eyes were genetically altered. Maybe my skin was...,"

Claude cut in, "It is more than skin deep. The differences are at the sub-atomic level. The vault describes the Nina Nizhoni or Homo princeps as a species which arose on planet Earth fifty-thousand years before Homo sapiens. The writings on the outside of the vault indicate that it was brought here by a race of beings from a planet orbiting the red supergiant Betelgeuse."

"What does that mean?" Haley's face filled with panic. "Are you saying I'm an alien and my ancestors came from another planet?"

"We don't know what it means. Maybe we all came from another planet."

Claude spoke carefully trying to comfort Haley, but his hesitation increased her anxiety.

"Is there anything in the vault which would make it possible to contact the planet?" Haley asked.

"The planet was six hundred and forty light-years from Earth," Claude answered. "Even though we are still seeing the light from Betelgeuse, Anastasias has calculated the star has exploded in a supernova. The planet was destroyed eighty years ago."

"So I'll never know where I came from?"

"I promise we will continue to look for answers." Claude put his arm around Haley. "We will figure it out together."

Haley took a deep breath. "Claude, if you hadn't come along, I don't know what would have happened to me. I have been blessed with a wonderful family and friends. I want you to know I am grateful."

"You are welcome again," Claude said. "Now, let's discuss the Qabalah."

"Ah yes, our arch enemy. They sound like villains from a movie."

Claude shook his head. "I wish that was true, but the Qabalah are real. With the help of the QBIFI, Anastasias was able to determine at least twenty technologist clones, i.e., the Qabalah are still alive. They are like invisible ghosts, manipulating world governments and resources from behind the scenes."

Claude explained that after WWII with the formation of the United Nations, many world leaders expected international relations to improve. Inexplicable conflicts kept developing at the worst possible times. They occurred too often to be coincidence. The Korean War was one of the most perplexing.

\---------------------------------------------

By the end of WWII, Korea had been liberated from the Japanese. The United Nations divided it into North and South. China and the Soviet Union set up a government in the North while the United States did the same in the South. The United Nations recognized the separation, but in June of 1950 an undisclosed source convinced Kim II-sung that South Korea wanted to be set free from the United States. North Korea launched a preemptive invasion.

Before leaving office, President Truman ordered a study by the CIA to determine why Kim believed the South would rise up against the U.S. in support of the North Karean forces. The study, known as the Haney Report, found covert agents not associated with any known government provided misleading and provocative intelligence for the sole purpose of instigating the war.

\---------------------------------------------

"We now know it was the Qabalah who provided the provocative intelligence to North Korea. They have demonstrated unparalleled intelligence gathering capabilities and used the information to manipulate governments and organizations into actions which prevent cooperation and progress."

"Do you think they were responsible for the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center?" Haley asked.

"Not directly, but it wouldn't have been possible without their assistance."

"So how can we stop the Qabalah from helping other terrorist groups?"

"We are learning to use the QBIFI as an early warning device and counter them with special agents. We recently had three former students pass the Foreign Service Officer Test and they are already working in the field. Many countries check with us to verify or refute claims made by unidentified sources. Even though the vault contains the most sophisticated equipment in the world for collecting information, it is difficult to get the information out because the Qabalah have human surrogates known as the deep state within the Chinese, Russian, and U.S. governments."

"Then I guess the question is what can I do?" Haley asked.

"You're already doing it. Help Anastasias in the vault and continue your studies. Rest assured you and your friends will have a bigger role to play in the future."

Claude removed several graphic images from his desk and laid them out for display. They looked like three dimensional X-Rays.

"These are quantum bioscans of your brain taken over the last four months. There is increasing activity at the sub-atomic level. You are undergoing a dramatic metamorphosis."

"What does that mean? Am I going to look different?"

"No." Claude assured her. "It is occurring at the sub-atomic level, so we don't expect to see any physical changes. We also don't think it will change who you are. Your personality should not be effected."

"That's a relief," Haley sighed. "So what do you think is happening?"

"If Anastasias is correct, you may develop abilities such as telepathy."

"Chris won't be too happy about that." Haley laughed.

Claude pulled out eight additional images and laid them on the desk.

"These are bioscans of Chris, Steve, Brian and Matt. They were taken one month apart and also show a similar increase in brain development at the sub-atomic level. Only time can tell us what it means, but at least you're not alone."

Chapter 45

### Defining Miracles

The world seemed to teeter on the brink of chaos during the early part of the twenty-first century. The 9/11 attacks transformed the human psyche in the United States like few events in history. For years, a group known as ISIS commanded the mantle of hatred, but the introduction of world-wide media enabled every disgruntled outcast, radical organization or mentally unstable psychopath to engender hate and increase confusion.

At the same time, those fortunate enough to be part of the ORION Institute were witnessing technological advancements and social engineering on an unprecedented scale. Fear of climate change, pandemics and social unrest was gripping much of society, but the QBIFI was predicting a bright future. It seemed like there was no problem the Institute couldn't solve, but then the scientists, staff, and students underwent a very personal test of faith.

It could be argued that the most vital person at the Institute wasn't an archaeologist, professor, genetically gifted individual, or even Claude. It was Noreen.

Her modest personality, Master's degree in psychology, and unrivaled ability to empathize with people made her indispensable as the Institute's Wellness Counselor.

Claude relied on her unique talents from the day they were married, but for twenty years Noreen had served as surrogate mother for students, negotiator for instructors, and therapist for overwhelmed scientists. Her combination of intelligence, charm, warmth and genuine compassion made her the glue which held the organization together. No one on campus was loved by more people than Noreen.

\---------------------------------------------

"There is no longer any doubt, you have stage four ovarian cancer," the doctor told Noreen after surgery. Claude leaned over her bed and melted into her arms with tears streaming. Noreen caressed and reassured him, "We'll get through this together."

It was no surprise that she was the one giving comfort.

The cancer continued to grow after four months of chemotherapy. Steve and the staff of the Department of Genome Sciences was devoted to finding an effective gene therapy, but research would take time Noreen didn't have.

Claude wondered, " _If the smartest people and the most advanced technology in the world can't help her, what's left?"_

He went to find Haley and beg, "You've got to help her."

"What can I do?" Haley asked.

"Anastasias said you might have the power to heal. You just don't know it yet."

Claude was trembling and his eyes were filled with a look of desperation bordering on insanity.

Haley took a deep breath, "Okay, I'll do what I can," she said.

Claude took her hand as they rushed to the room where Noreen was resting.

"You can do this, I know you can!" Claude encouraged Haley.

Haley placed her palms on Noreen's chest and began concentrating, envisioning the cancer cells melting away. Noreen shuddered and woke up with a huge gasp like someone struggling for air.

"What happened, what's going on?" she asked.

"How do you feel sweetheart?" Claude asked.

Noreen sat up and stretched. "Better than I've felt in months," she said smiling. "What did you do?"

"We brought in a specialist," Claude proudly answered as he pulled Haley closer.

"Let's not read too much into this," Haley whispered with obvious discomfort. "We don't know what or if anything has changed. I don't think we should jump to any conclusions until the doctors run tests."

Despite Haley's caution, Noreen was up and moving around with renewed energy. She and Claude were both convinced the cancer was gone. Claude ordered tests and exams and was confident the results would be negative.

His optimism was short-lived. The tests showed a significant improvement in Noreen's overall health, but the cancer remained. Claude ordered additional tests, but the results were the same.

A week later, Claude was talking with Noreen at the gazebo beside the Tree of Life. "This is my favorite place in the whole world," She whispered.

Claude knew how much Noreen loved being there, but nervously recalled that the tree may have accelerated Angela's cancer. He wondered, "Where is J. Alfred?"

"Have you seen Alfred?" he asked Noreen.

"No," she replied. "I understand why he is staying away. He is taking my sickness very hard."

"That's no excuse!" Claude said, "He should be here!"

\--------------------------------------

At that moment, J. Alfred was entering a part of the Institute he rarely visited, the chapel. He heard a familiar voice. It was Chris.

"Welcome Mr. Weston. I was hoping you would come."

"I need a miracle Chris," he said. "If God can raise a person from the dead, surely he can save Noreen."

"Why do you think God hasn't already cured her?" Chris asked.

"That's a hard question to answer Chris. Noreen is more deserving of a miracle than anyone I know, and she has hundreds of people praying for her." J. Alfred's face grew angry. "God has taken the people I love most. My father was murdered, my wife and daughter perished from leukemia, and now he's taking my mother. Is God punishing me?"

"I don't think so," Chris replied. "A close friend of mine went through something similar to this a few years ago. He stopped believing in God because he couldn't reconcile his faith with the often painful realities of life."

"So what did you say to him" J. Alfred asked.

"I asked if he had ever been to the dentist. He told me yes and I asked why, since a trip to the dentist is usually painful.

He answered, 'Because I needed some work done.'

J.Alfred exhaled and asked, "What's this got to do with me?"

Chris continued, "The span of our lives on Earth is insignificantly brief. The worst suffering on Earch is infinitely less onerous than a visit to the dentist when compared to eternal life in Heaven."

"O.K. J. Alfred replied, "but there must be a reason why God is punishing Noreen."

"Maybe it's not about Noreen," Chris answered. "Maybe God is trying to teach us something. Are you familiar with the story of Jesus feeding the multitudes by miraculously dividing the bread and fishes?"

"Yes," Mr. Weston answered.

Chris said, "Some theologians argue the conventional interpretation of what happened is incorrect. They say it was common practice to take extra food along when people journeyed out from the city during ancient times. They argue that when the multitudes witnessed Jesus' act of sharing, the people also began to share which resulted in an abundance of food."

"So you don't believe Jesus performed a miracle?" J. Alfred asked.

Chris smiled and said, "I think you're missing the point. I believe Jesus gave the people what they needed. I'm sure you've heard the old Chinese proverb, 'Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime.' Maybe Jesus was teaching the multitude to feed themselves by sharing." The question is, 'What is God trying to teach us?' Which is the greater miracle, 'Dividing the loaves and fishes or changing men's hearts?'"

J. Alfred answered, "In this case I hope saving Noreen is more important than teaching us a lesson."

"Maybe God can do both," Chris replied.

Fear of breaking into tears had prevented him from visiting Noreen for two days, but J. Alfred knew she would be wondering why he wasn't at her side. He was determined to stay strong, even when Claude told him she was resting on the gazebo under the Tree of Life.

He swallowed hard and walked toward the gazebo. Noreen had fallen asleep while reading the Bible. The book slipped from her hand as he approached. He lunged forward and caught it in mid-air. The pages fell open and his eyes focused on Mathew 21:22. "And whatever things you ask in prayer, **believing** , you will receive."

He felt a rush of confident emotion and faith beyond his understanding. _"This can't be a coincidence,"_ he thought. J. Alfred's sense of isolation and abandonment was suddenly replaced with a boundless presence. He was not alone and realized he never had been. For one precious moment he believed and prayed for Noreen. Her eyes opened and she smiled.

"Hello sweetheart, I had the most wonderful dream. God was embracing you," she said.

"How are you feeling Mom?" he asked.

"Maybe it's a reaction to the pain meds, but I feel much better, renewed somehow."

Noreen underwent repeated tests over the next few weeks. The doctors found no sign of cancer. They decided the miraculous cure must have been a delayed response to one of the earlier treatments.

J. Alfred didn't tell anyone about the prayer. "Must have been a coincidence," his logic told him, but he knew in his heart what had happened. Both he and Noreen had been healed.

Chapter 46

### Optical Displacement

The Institute remained unknown to the general public for over forty years. Most world leaders were aware of its existence, but remained silent in exchange for new technology.

The greatest threat to security came from ordinary people who heard stories and rumors. By the time the Prophies arrived at ORION, the Institute was already attracting the attention of inquisitive locals and amateur ufologists from around the country.

Unlike Area 51, the facility was in the middle of a densely populated state. Some of the most popular tourist destinations on the planet were within an easy drive. Even the ten-foot-high perimeter fence and a small army of security guards couldn't prevent at least one unauthorized entry onto the main campus each day. Trespassers were promptly escorted off, but the vivid descriptions of the futuristic architecture they witnessed encouraged more to come.

The Security Department relied on technology from the vault to create a multi-layered veil of secrecy. The first level consisted of an imperceptible electronic dome which projected a photographic representation of the area surrounding the facility. Photos taken from above by plane, drone or satellite revealed nothing more than undisturbed woods and scrub.

A second level of security was provided by the dome itself, composed of an electromagnetic field which disabled most small mechanical devices. Birds, insects, people and other animals could pass through unencumbered, but remote-controlled devices were disrupted, falling to the Earth like insects exterminated by a bug-zapper. The disrupting field worked pretty well until a significant flaw was detected.

When the Vice President of the United States tried to come onto the property unannounced after 9/11, the electromagnetic field disabled his pacemaker. He almost died, so Claude asked students to generate new ideas for improving perimeter security.

It took a year to tweak the technology, but Steve came up with the winning proposal when J. Alfred told Steve that the floating sensation people experienced at Becky's Restaurant was caused by a small device taken from the vault. He called it an "Optical Displacement Regulator (ODR)." A team of technicians concluded it had no practical function, so J.Alfred installed the ODR at the entrance to his Bayport house.

He said, "The device creates a disorienting feeling like being intoxicated, so I mounted it over the front door to produce a unique experience for guests."

Steve speculated the sense of being intoxicated could be used to disorient would-be trespassers. After completing a short class in optogenetics (the biological technique of using light to control cells in living tissue), Steve began to understand the science behind the sensation.

"I think I have the answer to our security problems," he told Claude after studying the device. "The Optical Displacement Regulator is emitting an imperceptible pulse of light which creates pressure on the optic nerve. It distorts our sense of direction. We may be able to adjust the pulse to misdirect any would-be trespassers." Instead of building barriers, Steve's plan addressed the problem by altering the intruder's perception.

Claude agreed to let Steve proceed with his plan, but added, "You're going to need a test subject. Any volunteers?"

Dan jumped at the chance to help. It was an opportunity to spend more time with Steve. Lately, Dan's friends had shown little interest in anything other than research. He missed spending time with them. They were so engrossed in study that they had turned down Mr. Weston's offer of an excursion to Hong Kong.

Dan and Steve spent a couple hours on the project each week. Dan tried to walk from point A to point B while Steve directed pulses of non-visible light at him, then recorded the response. Steve discovered in addition to altering Dan's sense of direction, it affected his emotions. Sometimes it made him happy, sometimes sad, angry or confused. After several months of calibrating the device, it created the impression Dan was walking forward in a straight line when he was actually staggering in circles.

Anastasias produced replicas of the device to hide inside the perimeter of the property. Large sections of fence were removed so trespassers appeared to have easy access.

The ODR worked perfectly. Security teams entertained themselves by watching video footage taken by the perimeter cameras. Intruders who tried to sneak onto the facility would stagger without direction until arriving back at the perimeter. Once outside the device's range, most fell to the ground laughing. Some would try dozens of times before giving up. Over time, a few creative individuals found ways to block the pulses by covering their bodies with tin foil. Not only did they look ridiculous, but the foil set off proximity alarms which allowed guards to intercept them before reaching the main complex.

During their time together, Dan realized Steve was still obsessed with understanding his deceased brother's behavior. Through work done with the Human Genome Project from its beginning in 1988, the ORION Institute had amassed a huge database of genetic information. Steve used the information to identify the gene which triggered John's death.

"I've got it!" he told Dan. "I've found the gene responsible for John's death."

"How could a gene cause your brother's death? Didn't you say he committed suicide?"

"The gene causes extensive development in the part of the brain controlling emotions. The gene causes a heightened sense of empathy. Every time John witnessed a tragedy or heard a sad story it overwhelmed him."

After spending months hearing Steve explain how the human brain handles emotion, Dan began to understand. Psychopaths feel nothing and cannot be emotionally hurt. People like John are much more vulnerable.

Steve chose the study of genetics to understand his brother's death, but now he was determined to use that knowledge to help others.

He told Dan, "It seems unfair that those who care the most suffer the most, but now that we understand John we can begin helping people like him. It doesn't stop there. We may be able to assistance people with the opposite problem such as psychopaths who experience little emotion or have no compassion."

Gene therapy was already being used outside the Institute to treat physical and mental disorders. Steve was a pioneer in genetic modification techniques, but realized his work could be used to identify people like his brother before they were born. Rather than raising a child who might be ill-suited to face the realities of life, some mothers would terminate the pregnancy. The thought sickened Steve.

He continued his work, but focused his studies on the ethical, legal and social implications (ELSI) related to human genome research. He was there for completion of the Human Genome Project in April, 2003 and continued working with the National Human Genome Research Institute for many more years.

Large commercial companies also participated. Steve worked with scientists from Lifecode Health which would be acquired by MedGenome in 2016. He eventually published his doctoral dissertation "The Code of Acceptable Practices in Human Genetic Modification." It became the model used to resolve differences in standards around the world and would eventually become the second pillar of The Great Coalescence in 2044.

Chapter 47

### Frankenfood in 2003

Brian traveled with J. Alfred Weston to the Third National Conference and Global Forum on Science, Policy and the Environment in Washington, D.C. He noticed an attractive young woman during a break and was trying to work up enough nerve to introduce himself. He found himself staring at her eyes as he approached.

"Do I have something on my face?" she asked.

"Na, nnn, no," he stuttered. "You have the most unusual eyes. I've never seen multi-colored eyes before."

She appeared to be embarrassed and looked away. "It's a condition known as central heterochromia. It's not contagious," she said with contempt.

"I didn't mean it that way. Your eyes are beautiful," Brian explained.

She turned away from him and said, "I'd rather not discuss my eyes."

Brian would have left her alone under normal circumstances, but he was curiously attracted to the girl.

He followed her like a little puppy while prattling on about his passion for designing genetically altered plants.

Suddenly she appeared to be interested, but her response was not what he hoped. "My goal," she said, "is to save the planet from people like you.

Brian's pulse was racing. He hadn't met anyone like her before. Maybe this was her way of flirting. He continued to talk.

"I know it isn't the whole solution, but genetically modified plants provide the most realistic solution to the world's impending food shortage. We can develop insect and disease resistant plants, requiring less space, less water and containing significantly more nutrition than anything found in nature."

The young woman's demeanor began to soften and she said, "You're making me blush with all this sweet talk." Then she asked, "Do you know what I call genetically modified plants?"

Brian looked at her with a puzzled expression and answered, "uh..., innovation?"

"Frankenfood," she replied. "Every time some faceless corporation says they have the solution, it ends up with an environmental disaster. That's what happens when greed controls the process."

Brian was trying to think of a witty rebuttal when Mr. Weston returned from a meeting with several corporate executives. As he approached Brian and the woman, he asked, "What are you young people up to?"

"Oh, hey Mr. Weston. We were debating the benefits and dangers of genetically modified plants," Brian answered.

"J. Alfred Weston?" the woman asked Brian. "You work for J. Alfred Weston? And I suppose you flew in on his private jet." The contempt in her voice was palpable.

"Well, yea but," Brian started to speak as the woman exhaled in disgust, shook her head and walked away.

"Sorry to crimp your style there buddy. She was cute! Real nice eyes." Mr. Weston said as he patted Brian on the back. "Until today, you've only seen the benefits of working with one of the richest men in the world. Now you know being associated with me doesn't always open doors. In fact, sometimes they slam in your face."

J. Alfred Weston wasn't a man with whom you casually disagree, so Brian inhaled deeply to steady his nerves before asserting himself.

"I don't understand why it's necessary to be so secretive about the things we're doing at the Institute."

Secrecy at the Institute was a sensitive subject for Mr. Weston. After investing over a billion dollars of his personal fortune, secrecy prevented him from revealing the greatest accomplishments achieved. To the general public, it appeared as if he were throwing away his money. Some even speculated that he had become a deranged recluse like Howard Hughes.

In an effort to goad him into releasing more information, a journalist for the Wall Street Journal wrote an article describing J. Alfred as "an eccentric billionaire who squandered his wealth building a third-rate college in a swamp."

"There is only so much we can tell the public," Claude responded. We've already given away significant technology and have gained important allies."

Brian whined, "If we could announce just a few details describing the vegetables I've developed, I'm sure people would recognize the potential benefits of genetically enhanced plants."

J. Alfred's expression relaxed a little. "I feel the same way Brian, but people are uncomfortable with the idea of tinkering with genetics. It doesn't matter if it's plant or animal. Half of them think we're playing god. The other half think we have no idea what we're doing and we'll wind up destroying the planet."

"Do you think they're right?" Brian asked.

"They may be, at least in the short term," J. Alfred replied. "According to Anastasias, the QBIFI predicts premature disclosure of anything relating to genetics could cause a disaster. What we're doing at the Institute doesn't appear to be a part of Earth's natural development. That's why we must be cautious and maintain secrecy."

"Are you saying we can change the future based on information from the QBIFI? I thought the investigation after 9/11 determined that wasn't possible."

"While it is true there's no action which will change the natural future as predicted by the QBIFI, we've discovered the timing of certain events can have a major impact. In this case, if we publicize our genetics research now, the QBIFI predicts chaos. If we wait until 2026 or later, the information will lead to a positive outcome."

"Why 2026? That's so far away."

"We don't know the reason, but it has something to do with our ability to understand and use genetic research responsibly. We're not going to release anything substantial to the general public before that date."

When they returned from the conference, Brian worked even harder on genetic plant research. He spent long hours in the lab, obsessed with experiments to the detriment of his personal life.

Brian found a different way to discuss his discoveries by doing it in a hypothetical setting. It was an online forum called the Green Warriors, a site for dedicated conservationists. Radio talk-show host Rush Limbaugh referred to them as "Environmental Whackos."

The Green Warriors site was the perfect place to discuss environmental theories and fantasies. Brian met a girl on the site, or at least someone who claimed to be a girl. She was everything he dreamed of, but the only thing he knew for sure was her online name, Ranebowgurl. When prompted to choose an online ID, Brian panicked and chose Prityboy. He hated it, but it was the only thing that came to mind.

Brian and Ranebowgurl communicated every day. She was adversarial at first, but soon became his greatest supporter. He grew to trust her advice and relied on her companionship. Even if it was virtual, she was the closest thing he had to a girlfriend. Whenever he had a bad day, Brian presented it as a fictional story to Ranebowgurl. She sent a warm reply every time ending with, "I believe in you."

Brian's research led to several productive crops. In field studies at the Institute, they contained less insecticide and herbicide contamination than food grown on farms certified by the Organic Materials Review Institute (OMRI).

"The world would be amazed if they could see the incredible things we're doing here," Prityboy bragged hypothetically to Ranebowgurl.

\---------------------------------

The general public would remain unaware of the ORION Institute for two more decades. Meanwhile, several large commercial companies were using a primitive form of genetic modification to infuse insecticides and other dubious components into major crops such as corn. The Qabalah used these abuses to fan the flames of public fears, making rational public discussions impossible. The Qabalah had significant influence over half of the world's news media and used it to promote their interests while destroying their competition.

Genetically modified food provided an easy way to spread misinformation. The Qabalah published fake scientific articles, opened phony internet chat rooms, staged protests and convinced millions that genetically modified organisms (GMOs) were being used to reduce population by causing infertility and cancer.

Brian understood better than anyone the dangers involved with GMOs, but he also knew they could be a greater benefit to society than antibiotics if produced and managed properly. If they were misused, they could be a greater threat than a hydrogen bomb. A simple genetic protein modification could change a formerly healthy food into a deadly poison. The Qabalah weren't lying when they claimed some genetic modifications were causing biological changes in the body leading to cancer.

\-----------------------------------

By the year 2005, Brian was already working on his doctoral dissertation, "The Code of Internationally Accepted Standards for Environmental Conservation." He began attending more conferences and conventions, but spent most of his time establishing connections with members of the Global Environment Facility (GEF), and the International Union for Conservation of Nature. He was frustrated by his inability to publish research for another two decades. What a difference it would make if he knew his work become the fourth pillar of the Great Coelescence in 2046.

Meanwhile, people living at the Institute served as perfect lab rats for testing his genetically modified foods. Claude set a goal to produce and recycle 90% of everything consumed on site. The Agriculture Division soon grew larger than the Department of Archaeology.

A dubious internet romance blossomed between Ranebowgurl and Prityboy. Brian wanted to meet her, but was fearful of what might happen if she discovered the Institute was real. He felt confident Ranebowgurl wouldn't do anything to hurt him, but couldn't take the chance.

He fantasized they might meet some day at an environmental conference where he would recognize her in a conversation without having to reveal his online identity. In the meantime, his favorite part of each day was contact with the mysterious Ranebowgurl, her closing words, "I believe in you."

Chapter 48

### Death of a Street Performer

After finishing four years of study at the Institute in 2004, the last scheduled culture trip was on track to depart for London in two weeks. Claude wanted to cancel the excursion for security reasons. This time it wasn't Haley's safety that concerned him, it was Matt's.

Matt dedicated a significant part of his life to the study of government systems. He considered problems with central planning and worker incentives associated with communism, socialism, and capitalism. If there was any hope of wresting power from the rich and powerful (especially the Qabalah), a major change was required.

Matt was less fervent in his Christian faith than Chris, but he still occasionally relied on the Bible for guidance. He often misquoted a line of scripture stated in a letter from Paul to Timothy, "Money is the root of all evil."

If Chris was in the room, he would chime in, "It's not money, but 'the love' of money that is the root of all evil." Matt believed money was an impediment to his vision of utopia, but he struggled to conceive of a society without it.

Money was an absolute necessity for trade and stability in early civilizations. It provided a method of exchange, didn't decay or require significant storage space like most food products, and was easily transported. It came to represent power and security. Kings and other dominant people controlled the money supply, and contrived methods to amass enormous wealth often at the expense of the general population. These schemes became more sinister and less fair-minded over time.

By 2004, it could be argued that bankers ruled the world and the Qabalah ruled the bankers. Financial institutions developed systems which charged the highest interest rates to those least able to pay. They created convoluted securities including collateralized debt obligation derivatives which the bankers themselves couldn't explain. Those schemes led to the housing bubble and insolvency for many of the world's largest financial institutions. It took a $780 billion bailout in the U.S. alone to avoid a global financial collapse in 2008. Matt was determined to create a better system.

With the advent of computer technology and real-time worldwide communications, Matt believed it was possible to replace money with a more efficient and equitable system. The ORION Institute was confronting many of the greatest scientific and technical challenges mankind had ever faced, but Matt's task would be the most difficult to achieve. He envisioned a world without money and based his system upon Jacque Fresco's Sustainable Resource-Based Economic System.

Playing devil's advocate, Brian asked, "If a resource-based economy is so efficient, then why hasn't anyone tried it before?"

"I can think of at least two reasons," Matt answered. "Those who control the wealth don't want to give it up, and we haven't had the technology until now. For the first time in history we have the ability to track resources worldwide on a real-time basis."

"So what makes you think the rich are willing to give it up?"

"Some won't, but there are others like Mr. Weston who are fully behind us. You've seen how well the system works at the ORION Institute. Our studies have proven when people aren't afraid of being without resources, a large majority stop hoarding and wasting. Less resources are needed which results in an enormous improvement in efficiency and productivity. The most astonishing and unexpected benefit is a wide-spread sense of well-being. In the end, even the rich are better off."

"You don't have to convince me, but the Qabalah isn't going to give up control of the money supply without a fight."

Brian was correct, and that is why Claude was worried about Matt. The Qabalah controlled U.S. banks and through them manipulated the world's money supply. It was their primary source of wealth and power. If Matt's plan was successful, the Qabalah had a great deal to lose.

\---------------------------------------

The Qabalah had operated with impunity for thousands of years with few people aware of their existence. They influenced the Chinese dynasties, the Mongol empire, Adolph Hitler, Joseph Stalin, Saddam Hussein, the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant, and major national governments including the United States.

They exploited differences between cultures, resources, and religions to manipulate the world's civilizations to their advantage. When they became bored, they chose sides and pit nation against nation for their amusement. But the ORION Institute was starting to introduce technologies and improve communications. The internet, (which had become one of the Qabalah's most effective weapons for spreading misinformation) was now being used by ORION and sovereign governments to reduce miscalculations.

Anastasius developed a software program to help identify possible communications within the Qabalah. The Medium was the code name the Qabalah used to identify Matt.

_The Medium_ started appearing frequently in Qabalah writings after Matt's advisor approved his dissertation, "Converting the World to a Resource-Based Economy." Mr. Weston and Claude used their money and connections to set up consultations for Matt with financial representatives from over fifty different countries. When it became apparent governments were seriously considering the idea, the tone of the Qabalah's messages became threatening.

\---------------------------------------

Claude approved the London trip despite the threats, but insisted everyone would travel together with him serving as chaperon. Matt was the only student who had work to conduct, (a brief unofficial meeting with Gordon Brown, the Chancellor of the Exchequer). The Chancellor is the British equivalent of the U.S. Secretary of the Treasury. It required the considerable influence of both Claude and Mr. Weston to arrange the visit. The simple fact the meeting took place added substantial weight to Matt's PhD dissertation.

Two weeks later on a sunny July day, Mr. Weston's private jet took off from the tiny Sebring Regional Airport. When the group arrived in London, Claude and the students checked into the luxurious Corinthia Hotel. The cool misty evening offered a welcome relief from the Florida heat.

A porter greeted them at the door. Tired and hungry, they inhaled the fragrance of flowers from nearby Whitehall Gardens and the aroma of fresh food wafting from one of the hotel restaurants.

As Claude requested, everyone remained together the following day while accompanying Matt to his meeting with the Chancellor. Haley was looking forward to having her picture taken in front of No. 10 Downing Street, but was disappointed to learn she couldn't get past a security gate at the end of the street. An attractive young woman was waiting at the gate on Whitehall to escort Matt inside.

When Matt returned, it took him twice as long as his visit to describe what happened. Even though it wasn't an official meeting and lasted less than ten minutes, he said the Chancellor was intrigued and seemed open to the possibility of a resource-based economy. The meeting took place at No. 10 Downing Street because Chancellor Brown had swapped apartments with Prime Minister Tony Blair who wanted more space for his family.

The rest of the week was spent on typical tourist activities including visits to the British Museum, the Tower of London, and St. Paul's Cathedral. The students attended performances of Les Miserables and The Phantom of the Opera in the evening.

Dan said his favorite memories of London were the roar of the underground, double-decker buses, and the sound of a half dozen different languages being spoken in the same restaurant.

Matt remarked, "Even the vehicle congestion with beeping horns and diesel fumes create a distinctive setting, somehow more civilized than back home."

On their last day, Claude led the students across the Hungerford Bridge for a visit to the London Eye. It dominated the skyline on the other side of the Thames. A street performer wearing a cape, bowler hat and dark glasses started performing for the crowd while tourists waited in line. Haley and Claude were immediately suspicious. The recent threats from the Qabalah made Claude nervous.

The performer jumped, kicked and danced a bizarre combination of Kabuki and Kung Fu. His cape flowed artistically and he carried a cane which he wielded like a sword. As the crowd delighted in his acrobatics, he lunged toward Matt. Three feet short of reaching the target, his body was suspended in midair for a full five seconds before dropping to the ground. The crowd gasped and applauded. Two security guards watched nervously.

Matt appeared to be enjoying the show. The man continued to dance and jumped in Matt's direction several times before falling to the ground. Matt shouted, "Way to go Chief!" The intensity of the performance grew and the man made one final run at Matt. He jumped so high into the air it looked like he was catapulted from a trampoline, but this time he fell flat on his back. The crowd groaned as his head hit the pavement with a disgusting thud.

His body turned bright red and then disappeared, leaving nothing but ashes. The spectators whooped and cheered for an encore. It didn't happen.

Dan turned to Matt and asked, "Was that a street performance, or did that guy try to kill you?"

Matt looked at Dan with a smug expression, "he tried but never stood a chance. Do you remember when we were kids and went to Arcadia for Thanksgiving? Do you remember the Indian Chief I described?"

"Yea, but I thought that was your imagination. It wasn't real. What does your imaginary friend have to do with what happened here?"

Matt patted Dan on the back. "It was real to that street performer," he said while looking at the ashes.

Jacque Fresco died in 2017, but a version of his Sustainable Resource-Based Economic System became the third pillar of the Great Coalescence in 2045.

Chapter 49

### Rodney

### Bok Tower

Rodney Reynolds was a mathematics phenomenon and the most intellectually gifted student at the Institute. With an IQ higher than Einstein, Rodney developed many of the complex equations required for the Institute's advanced technology, but his insatiable search for answers made him perpetually miserable. He had a knack for spreading discontent and became a pariah among his peers. He enjoyed making provocative statements to see how people would react. His favorite target was Chris.

"Face it Chris. Technology is our Christ, the savior of mankind. Steve is using genome tech to make humans stronger and smarter. Brian will soon be using bio-tech and renewable energy to create a sustainable environment. Matt is applying computer algorithms to perform previously impossible calculations for a resource-based economy, and your little buddy Dan is utilizing the Internet to sell the whole package. So why do we need God?"

Chris sighed and hung his head. There was some truth to Rodney's argument. The Institute's focus was primarily on technology which was Chris's main concern when he enrolled.

"You think you're clever Rodney, but I'm not buying it. Despite your protests, I know you believe in God."

"I don't deny it. I was raised as a Christian, but what I don't accept is Biblical inerrancy, or the supernatural interpretation of most of the events in the Bible. My faith in God is based on rational observation. I don't need some religious authority figure in a pointed hat or holy text book to tell me that God is real."

"So why are you angry with Christians?" Chris asked.

"I'm not angry. I just don't understand how Christians who claim to worship God are in fact worshiping the Bible, a book so full of errors and contradictions that any rational person should reject it."

"O.K., I'll bite. Why is the Bible inconsistent?" Chris asked.

"Well to begin with, it was commissioned by the pagan Constantine as a way to unify the Roman Empire."

"So what makes you think God wasn't using Constantine to spread Christianity?"

"Because Constantine said Christ commanded him to design the cross out of gold and precious stones and have it inscribed 'By this symbol you will conquer.' That's in direct conflict with the twentieth chapter of Exodus, verses four and five: 'Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image.'"

"I'm impressed with your knowledge of scriptures Rodney, but the Bible isn't a tech manual. You can't use mathematical reasoning to critique it. It's a living document. There are plenty of things we don't understand, like why the first two verses of Ezra are a verbatim recopy of the last two verses of Second Chronicles. The Bible is still inerrant," Chris said with a confident smile.

Rodney rolled his eyes, "What? How can you insist the Bible is inerrant? It's full of errors and you know it. For many the Bible itself has become a graven image. Most Christians worship the Bible, not God."

"It's a matter of faith." Chris insisted. "The Bible is the word of a perfect God written by imperfect men. God uses human inadequacies to teach us to have faith. Everything in the Bible is there for a reason, even those things that seem like errors to an unbelieving world."

Rodney threw his hands in the air, "I give up." He was mocking Chris, but understood the argument. He secretly admired Chris and wanted to share his unshakable faith.

By the end of the fifth year, Dan had completed his thesis in computer science and was awarded a Master's degree. That may sound impressive, but all of Dan's other friends except Chris who was struggling with his dissertation were receiving PhDs. The students gathered for a celebration trip to Bok Tower Gardens in Lake Wales.

Even though the gardens at the Institute contained the most impressive collection of plants on the planet, the Bok Tower Gardens had a warm and familiar appeal. Maybe it was the native plants or perhaps the unobstructed views from the 298-foot hill known as Iron Mountain. Whatever it was, students from ORION spent more time there than any other place off campus.

Mr. Weston made special arrangements as usual. He was the highest level member of the gardens and used his considerable influence to convince the non-profit organization to provide on-site housing for fifteen students (including Rodney) for a three-day weekend. The entire 12,900 square foot estate they called Pinewood was reserved. Claude accompanied the group.

The bus arrived a little before 10 a.m. It was a sunny Friday morning and a pleasant woman named Mary McDermott greeted the bus. She seemed genuinely excited to have lodgers. The estate was open at times for tours and formal parties, but it was rare to have overnight guests.

The large Mediterranean-style home was decorated for Christmas, but the public holiday tours hadn't commenced. Claude was on a first name basis with the staff which wasn't a surprise since he had been there many times. It was one of the first places he visited when he came to America.

Haley thought it was amusing when Claude was repeatedly greeted with "You look great Claude, you never get any older." She wondered how they would react if the staff knew he attended President Calvin Coolidge's dedication of the tower and sanctuary in 1929.

Pinewood Estate offered a welcome change from the high-tech efficiency of the Institute. In spite of its bold and awe-inspiring futuristic architecture, the school's lodging lacked the warmth and earthiness of a home. For that reason, Claude and Noreen remained in the house originally built on the property despite the convenience afforded in the Institute's staff lodging.

Upon entering Pinewood Estate, one room instantly became the students' favorite. It contained an intimate seating area in front of a giant marble fireplace. They gathered in front of the enormous hearth, soaking up the ambience, talking for hours. The high ceilings were lined with exposed beams and lighting fixtures were ornate wrought iron. The room glowed from sunlight flowing through huge glass-paned arched doors. Spectacular wood carvings extended two feet beyond the doors to the ceiling.

A small courtyard was visible outside. The brilliant green of the tropical plants created a stunning contrast against the orange stone walls. Scattered red and blue flowers dotted the garden revealing the character of an elegant home.

Dan was the only one of the Prophies who would be continuing classwork in school, but the others were remaining at the Institute to conduct research. This was a major milestone for everyone.

By the end of the afternoon, Steve was kneeling on one knee at the tower reflecting pond proposing to Tammy. She said yes.

Chris and Haley announced their upcoming wedding at dinner, but the greatest surprise came when Rodney said he would be attending divinity school.

"Congratulations Rodney, I knew you were a true believer," Chris said as he shook Rodney's hand.

"What is a true believer?" Rodney asked without waiting for a reply. "Don't lump me in with everyone else preacher man. I'm still searching."

Claude had arranged a private tour of Bok Tower in the evening and it was dusk when the troop of eight departed for the tour. As they approached the building, massive tile grilles near the top glowed from the setting sun like a stained-glass beacon. There was no moon or city lights to obscure the thousands of stars twinkling in the clear black sky.

The group entered through the great brass door into the Founders Room. The interior resembled a palace with delicate pink and gray granite walls, an ornate ceramic tile floor, and a large fireplace. The high arched ceiling looked like it belonged in a grand cathedral. Steve joked, "Where's the Pope?"

Claude led the way up a wrought-iron staircase. The second level held historical items including important documents, antique furniture, and photographs. As he inspected a picture taken when the gardens opened, Steve discovered a familiar face in the shadows behind President Coolidge. It was Claude. He looked a little more youthful, but it was still hard to comprehend the picture was taken more than seventy years earlier.

"Man, you must live under that tree!" Steve quipped, referring to the Tree of Life.

"I do most of my reading there in the screened gazebo," Claude replied. "And Noreen and I dance a waltz beneath the limbs twice each week. You guys are welcome to stop by and breathe the air anytime."

The troop passed a mechanical room and a maintenance workshop on the third and fourth levels before stopping at the library on the fifth. The Tower custodian was happy to point out library contents, the largest collection of carillon history and music in the world.

The sixth level was a comfortable office and studio with recording equipment. They rested until Claude reluctantly allowed them to climb the spiral staircase to the level with the bells. The massive carillons created an appearance of a scene from the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

"There's nothing up there but machinery and lightning rods," Claude insisted, knowing some of the students would want to climb the catwalk ladder to the roof.

Suddenly from behind one of the largest bells, a man bounded off the catwalk toward Haley. Rodney jumped in front of her and took the full force of the man's weight crashing down.

He was a member of the Qabalah. Rodney grimaced as the point of the man's cane pierced his leg. Haley turned and was face to face with the attacker before the others could react. The man took one step toward her, prepared to stab her with his cane, but turned into dust. His cane, clothes, hat and glasses were left in a heap on the floor.

"What happened? Did your Indian Chief do that?" Dan asked Matt.

"No," he replied. "I think it was Haley."

"Please remind me not to piss her off," Dan joked before he realized Rodney wasn't getting up.

Rodney was motionless, without breathing and without a pulse.

Claude pulled out a small case containing a vile of Wyeth anti-venom and a syringe. He carried a small supply on field trips ever since he confirmed Coral Snake venom was the original poison used by the Qabalah to kill John Weston.

He injected Rodney and started CPR, but Rodney had already turned pale and cold.

Chapter 50

### Hell: Been There, Done That

Rodney's body appeared dead, but his brain was still active.

\-------------------------------------

His unconscious mind was locked in mortal combat with the man from the tower. His rage grew more intense as he struck the man repeatedly. Extreme pain coursed up his leg, his skin burned as if doused in hot grease. His head was pounding so hard he could barely see, but he continued to beat on the man's face until he felt bones crumbling under his fists.

A perverse pleasure washed over him as the attacker's body disintegrated into a bloody pulp. He tasted the man's blood splattered on his face.

Rodney thought his fight was over, but then he heard a familiar laugh. It was the man who molested him when he was eleven years old. No one believed Rodney when he told them what happened. Filled with rage, he jumped on the man and gouged his fingers deep into the molester's eyes while kicking him in the groin. As the man fell helplessly to the ground, Rodney began stomping on his face. "Yes," he thought, "revenge!"

Again, Rodney thought his fight was over, but he continued to fight every person who ever wronged him until he no longer knew who they were. He struggled with one foe after another, suffering as much pain and torment as he inflicted. Every unrestrained emotion of anger and bitterness he'd ever experienced boiled to the surface and he was locked in a perpetual battle with his inner demons. As soon as he would vanquish one foe, another would appear. The perverse satisfaction of revenge faded, replaced with profound perpetual pain, disgust and remorse. Rodney was at the mercy of his own hate, and felt himself slipping deeper into the pit of hopelessness.

"Jesus, forgive me!" he cried in a final gasp.

A quiet still nothingness enveloped him followed by a slow drifting upward like floating to the surface of a lake. A light appeared and he imagined he was looking into the face of God.

\------------------------------------

Claude was trying his best to revive Rodney's limp body. He continued CPR while Steve and Dan were massaging his legs to get blood flowing. Chris and Haley were praying and laying on hands with such passion it looked like a Pentecostal revival. The whole thing might have been amusing if it weren't deadly serious.

After ten minutes, Rodney began breathing and color returned to his face. He opened his eyes and managed to speak three words, "Jesus saved me."

He was medevacked to a Tampa hospital where he made a complete recovery. The police thought the whole story was a hoax since the attacker had disappeared and the doctors found no trace of snake venom or anti-venom in Rodney's system.

Claude and the others were left wondering how he survived. Was it the medicine, Haley's special powers, or did God answer their prayers?

Students were eager to see Rodney when he returned to the Institute the following week. Chris and Haley were with him when Dan and Steve stopped by. The room was filled with cards and flowers from friends. Dan whispered to Steve, "I didn't know he had friends."

Rodney looked different. At first, Dan thought he'd lost weight, but then realized it was something else. Rodney was smiling. It was a facial expression few students had ever witnessed, creating an entirely different appearance.

"Please don't take this the wrong way," Dan said, "but near-death experiences look good on you."

"Well," Rodney said, "I've been born again, fully immersed this time."

Both Chris and Haley were eager to hear Rodney's story.

"I've been meaning to ask you a few questions," Chris said.

"Go ahead. I know you're curious. To be honest, I've been eager to tell somebody."

"Do you remember when you woke up at the tower? Chris asked, then added, "You said 'Jesus saved me.' I thought you were a Diest."

Rodney shook his head and said, "not anymore, but I honestly don't remember waking at the tower. The last thing I recall before the hospital was Jesus pulling me away from the gates of Hell."

Chris looked surprised. "That's a big change. You've always said you don't believe in Hell; that God wouldn't give us free will to make our own choices, but then condemn us for choosing."

Rodney explained, "That's because the ancient Hebrew scripture describes Hell as a place where unsaved souls are 'burnt or consumed.' I thought that meant you cease to exist rather than symbolizing a place of eternal torment. Now I know that Hell does exist and it's a horrific place of our own creation."

Chris sighed, "What do you mean by "a place of our own creation?' If Hell isn't a place where we're punished for our sins then the death of Jesus on the Cross has no meaning."

"It means everything," Rodney said as tears streamed down his face. "Jesus wasn't being punished for our sins. He was crucified to create a bridge to Heaven."

Chris said, "I don't understand. The cleansing of sins is the cornerstone of our faith."

Rodney answered, "And that is what Jesus death did, but not in the way the Bible has traditionally been interpreted. Becoming a Christian doesn't suddenly make you sin-free. It creates a process for us to become free of our sin. Christians think Jesus' resurrection was a miracle and it was, but the big miracle happens when we die. If we call upon him and genuinely want to change, Jesus (having died as a man) is able to transform us into the sinless soul we want to be. He is like an anti-virus program on a computer. Through Christ, our souls will be spiritually cleansed as we join the father in Heaven as a new creation."

Haley asked, "So what's the point of Hell if it isn't about punishment?"

Rodney answered, "I can tell you from first-hand experience that we don't cease to exist when we die. Our souls continue and must go somewhere. If we take our pride, envy, gluttony, lust, anger, greed, and sloth with us, it becomes Hell. I only had time to experience hate and anger, but it was a terror I will never forget."

"So how did you escape?" Chris asked.

"At the last possible moment when I sensed the hopelessness of my situation, I cried out to Jesus."

"And that's when he appeared to you?" Chris asked.

"As soon as I stopped fighting and surrendered to Christ, the rage vanished and the pain stopped. A force lifted me and I felt a love surpassing anything my mind could imagine. Then I woke up in the hospital."

"Are you saying a person can still be saved after death?" Chris asked.

"I don't know because I'm not dead. Maybe I was given a second chance, but I do know God is much more than any one religion. He speaks to the hearts of all men in the language and culture they recognize."

Suddenly Chris understood what he needed to do to complete his PhD. His dissertation would challenge religious leaders to have greater faith in God by accepting God's judgement of which religious doctrine was correct rather than imposing their own narrow interpretations.

It was a slow process, but since no spiritual leader wanted to be seen as lacking faith, a version of Chris's "Treaty of Religious Acceptance" was recognized by the world's major religions in 2043 and became the first pillar of the Great Coalescence.

Even as a Christian, Dan was skeptical of Rodney's story. He started to wonder if Rodney had suffered brain damage or was having delusions, but Chris continued his questions.

"So you really saw Jesus?"

"He's right here," Rodney replied.

That comment stunned Dan. He thought Rodney was being literal and then whispered to Steve, "Brain damage, definitely brain damage."

Rodney lifted his hand to his chest and added, "In my heart." Then Dan understood.

Chapter 51

### Katerina

Brian gazed skyward, awestruck by the giant sequoias along the trail. A few were over two thousand years old, nearly three hundred feet tall, and one hundred feet in circumference. Hazy rays of sunlight pierced the forest canopy, peppering the ground like spotlights on an enormous stage. Even compared with the many remarkable events in Brian's life, none of it equaled the sense of wonder he found in Sequoia National Park.

It was his first assignment for the ORION Institute following graduation. The journey began yesterday in San Francisco where he attended an environmental conference.

Today's excursion was a last-minute addition to the schedule. Claude asked Brian to meet with a representative from the Sierra Club to dispel rumors concerning the Institute's development of genetically modified plants. Traffic noise outside the hotel last night kept Brian awake, and the long winding drive from San Francisco left him tense.

The Cedar Grove Lodge stored his luggage when he arrived at the park while he went for a hike to unwind on a nearby trail. As a well-equipped group of hikers overtook him, he asked where they were headed.

"Mount Whitney," they replied.

"How far?" he asked.

"Sixty miles," an older woman answered as they marched out of sight.

A few minutes later, Brian came upon a young woman sitting alone on a log bench overlooking Crescent Meadow. She was watching two deer at the base of the trees on the far side.

"It's beautiful isn't it?" she asked without turning toward him. Brian heard her voice, but wasn't sure what she had said.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

She turned around and looked directly at him, "I said the meadow is beautiful isn't it."

Maybe it was the effects of altitude or the long drive, but Brian was tongue-tied.

"Uh," he swallowed, took a deep breath and tried again. "Uh, uh," but was still unable to produce a single intelligible word.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, "I shouldn't have disturbed your walk."

With his face flushed with embarrassment, Brian closed his eyes and struggled to speak. "No!" The word came out loud and blunt.

He tried again. "You didn't disturb me, and yes it is beautiful," he said.

Brian knew it wasn't the altitude or the drive which left him speechless. It was her distinctively beautiful appeal. She was the most enchanting woman he had ever met, from her auburn hair with wild streaks of gold to her rainbow-colored eyes, her creamy peach complexion, infectious smile, and quirky dimples. She looked so unusual and yet familiar.

"Hello Brian, I'm Katie."

"Uh," Brian was speechless again. This is crazy, he thought. How did she know my name? She smiled and pointed to his name tag still prominently displayed from the environmental conference in San Francisco.

"Ohhhhhhhhhh," he said. "I'm Brian," he said like an adoring groupie.

"I know," she laughed.

It was a melodious laugh. "Come sit down," she said while patting the seat beside her.

"How do you know you're safe with me?" Brian teased. "I could be a dangerous man."

"Really?" she said. "I'm pretty good at reading people. I'm sure you aren't dangerous."

Brian said, "I don't know if I should be flattered or insulted."

The next hour was one of the most pleasant Brian could remember. They laughed at each other's jokes and shared common interests, especially a mutual love of nature. Brian gazed into her eyes. Her voice relaxed him like a warm embrace. It was as if they had known each other from birth, but when Brian mentioned the ORION Institute, Katie abruptly stood up as if she realized or remembered something important.

"I have an appointment. It was nice talking to you."

"Which way are you going?" Brian asked. "I'll walk you back."

"No thanks, I know the way,"she replied.

"How can I contact you? I don't know your last name. Could I get a phone number or something?" Brian was concerned, afraid he might not see her again.

"I'm sure we'll meet again," she said, but the warmth was gone from her voice.

Brian was miserable during the hike back to the lodge. What did I say? What did I do? I thought we hit it off.

He finished checking into his room and reviewed some notes. The Sierra Club was adamantly opposed to genetic engineering, so an unpleasant meeting with a fanatical environmentalist seemed an inevitable but appropriate ending to a disappointing day.

The Institute travel office had scheduled a dinner get-together with a Dr. Marglova for 6 P.M. at the Cedar Lodge Restaurant. At least I'll get a good meal, he thought.

Brian was anticipating dinner reservations at a nice restaurant similar to the one he enjoyed in San Francisco, but arrived to find a snack bar in the lodge market. He wondered what else could go wrong while waiting in a cold empty booth, expecting an unreasonable old man to appear at any moment.

His pulse raced when he saw Katie enter the market. It didn't occurred to him that she might be from the Sierra Club. He stood up and called to her, "Katie. Over here!"

She walked to where he was sitting, extended her hand and said in a very emotionless tone, "Doctor Katerina Marglova."

Brian's face turned pale. He glared back at her and asked, "You're not serious. Are you kidding?"

"You're the one playing games. You throw the dice every time a plant is genetically engineered, and it's all for greed!"

"That's not who we are. That's not what we do." Brian's voice was calm and steady, but his hands were shaking. Then he gave Dr. Marglova a sealed packet of five seeds along with the paper he prepared explaining the Institute's biodiversity project.

"This packet contains Sigillaria, Lepidodendron, and three other viable seeds for species which have been extinct for three hundred million years. The Institute has recovered over four hundred formerly extinct plant species and haven't copyrighted a single one nor made a penny from it."

"Why should I believe you?" she asked. "These could be seeds from common plants."

"I don't expect you to trust me. Have them studied and tested in a protected environment and read my paper. We'll be waiting to hear from you."

Brian clinched his jaw, trying to hide his disappointment as he walked away. In a single afternoon, he met the girl of his dreams and then learned out she was a nightmare. He felt like an abused child and wanted to go home.

Two months later, Dr. Phillip Warren called to ask if the Institute was willing to host a team of scientists from the Sierra Club. Claude was ecstatic.

"Good job Brian! The Sierra Club was very impressed with your presentation. I'd like you to coordinate a two-day visit for five of their top science advisors. Be sure to include a complete tour. We need to convince them our motives are altruistic and we have the scientific expertise to handle this level of environmental technology."

Claude handed Brian a few written questions along with the list of attendees. One name stood out..., Dr. Katerina Marglova.

Chapter 52

### RANEBOWGURL

The Sierra Club contingent came two weeks later on a Friday afternoon. Brian and Dan waited as the limo-bus arrived from the Tampa airport, stopping inside the main gate.

"Welcome to fantasy island," Dan joked as they disembarked. Brian winced with embarrassment before starting the introductions.

"Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen. I'm Dr. Brian Adams. This is Daniel Naidoo. We'll be your hosts." (Dan was still working on his PhD at that time.)

The visitors were startled by a loud burst of air from the turntable compressor as it started lowering the limo-bus. As they bounded away from the noise, two of the visitors tripped on the raised concrete. Dan caught an elderly scientist before he fell. Brian instinctively caught Dr. Marglova.

The Sierra Club's Dr. Warren was quick to recognize the awkward moment. He began introducing himself and his team. Dan directed the scientists toward the tram. Brian shook their hands in a professional manner as he described the DGV.

"You'll be riding to the main complex in our diamagnetic gravity vortex vehicle. It operates on the earth's magnetic energy grid and has a zero carbon footprint. Are there any questions?"

Brian was calm and his presentation was smooth until Dr. Marglova raised her hand. He began fidgeting. Dan felt Brian's elbow nudge his side. It was Brian's way of asking for help.

"Yes Doctor," Dan responded.

"How will we get our luggage? We left it on the bus."

"It's already been sorted and is being delivered to your rooms."

Brian resumed his presentation with a description of the DGV inertia dampening system and identification of flora and fauna along the way. Four of the guests appeared fascinated, but Dr. Marglova remained stoic.

"Our gardens contain over four hundred rare plant species, forty-six of which are considered extinct outside of this facility."

"Is there a reason why you haven't shared those formerly extinct plants with the rest of the world?" Dr. Marglova asked.

It seemed like a legitimate question to Dan, but he recognized Brian's combative expression. Dan was expecting a fight, but Brian took a deep breath before answering calmly.

"That's a good question Dr. Marglova. Like the Sierra Club, the Institute is concerned with the potential impact of introducing new plants to the ecosystem. A plant which has been extinct for a million years could have a devastating impact on the environment if it isn't properly managed. It's the same problem we face with genetically modified plants."

"And how do you intend to handle that problem?" She asked with cynicism, as if there was no acceptable response.

Brian smiled because the answer was at their first stop. It was the Institute's quantum computer. Dan parked the DGV in front of Claude's house and Brian led the scientists into the vault.

"This is the only fully functional quantum computer on the planet," Brian said as the visitors ogled the intricate control panel.

"It looks like something from Star Wars," one analyst commented.

Brian explained, "Without the quantum computer, the intricate gardens you've witnessed wouldn't be possible. A complete list of each plant's biological requirements such as light, nutrition, soil, humidity, and susceptibility to disease are fed into this computer. Then the computer uses predictive analytics to forecast the influence plants will have on each other and the environment. It's been 99.9% accurate so far."

The look of astonishment on the visitors' faces was unmistakable. They stood motionless trying to process the wonder of the quantum computer. It seemed too good to be true, but the gardens were undeniable proof the Institute's biodiversity project was far ahead of the rest of the world.

A special dinner and presentation was held in the planetarium that evening. Years of gloomy climate change predictions had weighed heavily on the Sierra Club scientists, so the Institute's unfettered optimism was a refreshing change. Even though the visitors still had doubts that the quantum computer could deliver as promised, they were encouraged.

The dinner was cheerful with a buoyant theme of scientific progress. While everyone else was talking and enjoying the dinner, Dr. Marglova seemed fixated on Brian. He could feel her cold stealthy glances.

After Claude ended the evening with an inspirational speech, Dr. Marglova rushed toward Brian, blocking him at the door.

"It's time to clear the air" she told him. Then she asked if there was some place private they could talk. Brian suggested the fire exit because it was rarely used except in emergencies.

"There's an open causeway in the back where I go when I want to be alone," he said.

Dr. Marglova followed him outside and admired the scenic walkway nestled high above the trees. It was a clear night with a slight breeze.

"This place is enchanting," she said with a jealous sigh. "What I wouldn't give to have an office like this. I hope you realize how fortunate you are to be part of the ORION Institute."

"I do," he replied, his voice cautious and suspicious.

"Do you remember when we first met?" she asked.

"Of course. It was three months ago in Sequoia National Park."

"No," she said. "We met at the Global Forum on Science, Policy and the Environment in 2003. You were trying to convince me genetically altered crops could solve the world's food shortage."

Brian finally realized why she seemed familiar when he saw her on the Crescent Meadow Trail.

"Oh yes, now I remember. You walked off in a huff when Mr. Weston arrived. When I saw you in the Sequois, I knew you looked familiar but didn't know why. You've been playing with me like a kitten with a helpless insect."

"I understand if you're angry," she said. "But I swear I didn't know who you were in the Sequoias until you mentioned the Institute. I'm not your enemy. I've grown very fond of you."

Brian felt her fingers reaching for his hand. He brusquely pulled away. "I don't buy it. You don't know me," he said.

She turned and gazed at the moon. "I know you better than you think. There's something else. You and I have been friends for almost three years."

"What are you talking about?" Brian asked.

"I'm Ranebowgurl."

"Oh god no," Brian said, feeling lightheaded. "I should've known. I told you things in confidence which could be used against the Institute?"

He turned, glared at her and spoke in an aggressive tone. "You can get me fired if that's what you want, but please don't expose the Institute. The work here is very important and exposing it to the public could have unpredictable consequences."

"I'm sorry you think I would do anything to hurt you or your precious Institute," she said. "Let me put it this way, you didn't tell Dr. Marglova anything. You shared a few hypothetical theories and dreams with a friend. There were no names or details given."

"But you knew what I was talking about," he replied. "And now you've seen the Institute. You know sensitive information about our work that I had no right to share."

She grabbed both of his hands and held tight.

"One of the last things you said before walking away from our meeting in the Sequoias was 'I don't expect you to trust me.' Well, I don't expect you to trust me either," she whispered. "I'll prove I'm your friend."

Brian fought off an enormous desire to say something unkind. This was the girl who left him speechless in the Sequoias, but she was also the girl he met online who in some weird way had become his trusted companion and friend. They walked down the steps in awkward silence as Brian led Katie to the guest quarters.

"Good night Dr. Marglova," he said with a cold detached stare.

A single tear ran down her cheek. "Good night Brian."

When the Sierra Club analysts were prepared to leave, Dr. Warren gave Claude a preliminary summary of their findings. He was lavish with his praise, but refused to endorse the Institute's genetic modification program.

He told Claude, "There are just too many unknowns. It isn't worth the risk."

"What more can we do to convince you?" Claude asked.

"We need more time to study the quantum computer," Dr. Warren answered. "Would you consider taking on a Sierra Club liaison?"

"Whatever it takes," Claude replied.

"Outstanding! I'll stay in touch. Perhaps we can work something out," Dr. Warren said as the team departed.

Brian avoided Dr. Marglova for the remainder of the visit, but Katerina left a simple note for him which read:

_Dear Brian, I believe in you_.

It was signed, Ranebowgurl.

Chapter 53

### Brian and Katie

Drs. Warren and Marglova were eating breakfast in a popular Monterey, California restaurant six months after the Sierra Club scientists visited the Institute. Dr. Warren fidgeted as he spoke.

"Katie, I consider you one of our most dedicated environmentalists, but you've been distracted the last few months," he said with an air of concern. "Are you starting to question what we're doing here?"

"No!" she answered, but then added, "I don't know."

"It was the visit to the ORION Institute wasn't it?" he asked.

"It all seemed so simple before. Don't mess with Mother Nature. Now I can't help but wonder if humans not only have the right, but the duty to manage the environment."

"You've changed," Dr. Warren said. "The woman I've known for ten years would never question herself. I'm not saying it's bad to have doubts, but you need to figure out what you believe. I've recommended you for a new job. It's not with the Sierra Club, but I think it will help you get back on track."

Katie was stunned. She wondered if her friend and mentor was dumping her after all the years of hard work and dedication.

"I'll admit I'm going through some internal conflict, but my commitment to the Sierra Club has never wavered," she said.

"I'm not questioning your loyalty Katie, and I'm not firing you. Whether or not you pursue the job is your choice, but I don't think the Sierra Club has the answers you need."

Dr. Warren took a deep breath to brace himself for her response. "That's why I've submitted your name to Claude Gautier to head up the ORION Institute's newly created Marine Science Division."

Katie's mind was overwhelmed with conflicting thoughts. She was excited to have an opportunity to work with Brian and prove she could be trusted, but she wondered about Dr. Warren's motives.

Was he concerned for her welfare or was he asking her to be a spy? Katie realized no matter what the responses were to those questions, the best place to find answers was at the Institute.

She decided to follow up on the job recommendation and was chosen over three dozen applicants. Claude and J. Alfred considered it a coup to secure the services of a Marine Biologist with the superb credentials and connections of Dr. Marglova, but Brian thought it was a mistake.

"She's a spy," he told Claude. "You're taking an enormous risk bringing her here. She's been brainwashed to believe any attempts to control the environment are evil. Her idea of a perfect world is people living like animals. We can't trust her to keep an open mind."

"I disagree," Claude replied. "We've interviewed her numerous times and conducted an exhaustive background investigation. She admits to her concerns regarding genetic modifications. In fact she's proud of it." Claude paused to make sure he had Brian's attention.

"This institution has grown complacent. We need leaders who will challenge the findings and recommendations of our scientists. We need people like Dr. Marglova."

Brian reluctantly accepted Claude's arguments and wasn't surprised when Katie was assigned to the office across the hall.

Claude probably wants me to keep an eye on her, he thought. Then a somewhat disturbing possibility crossed his mind. Maybe Claude put her there to keep an eye on me.

Katie worked hard to regain Brian's trust by publishing articles in scientific journals which argued for the judicious use of genetic modifications in plants and animals. At conferences, seminars and conventions, she defended a proactive approach to environmental management. Her subordinates in the Marine Division appreciated her tough questions. They said it made them more vigilant in their work because they respected Dr. Marglova and didn't want to disappoint her.

Brian and Katie eventually became close friends and allies, often traveling together and fighting for the same causes.

By the year 2024, an alarming number of people were being diagnosed with endocrine system problems traced to fish contaminated by the Pacific Ocean trash vortex. It wasn't unexpected to find Dr. Marglova presenting a proposal to address the problem at the annual Marine Biologist Convention in Monterey, California. She was considered by many to be the preeminent Marine Biologist in the country.

But it was a shock to the Sierra Club's Dr. Warren when his former protégé suggested the ORION Institute use the quantum computer to genetically engineer a microbe to consume pelagic plastics and chemical sludge without harming the environment.

The Sierra Club was still opposed to the use of genetically modified organisms due to unpredictable consequences. Despite Sierra Club demands for her to back off, Katie continued to promote the plan.

She and Brian began working with Anastasias and produced a viable organism within a year. The plan had widespread but guarded support. Leading scientists from around the world were impressed by the capabilities of the Institute's quantum computer, but they also understood the potential for devastating environmental damage if anything went wrong.

As thousands of people became infected and over one hundred died from contaminated fish, support of the plan continued to grow. The Institute created a one-acre saltwater pond with marine life, and tainted it with the same pollutants found in the Pacific trash vortex.

Within two months of introducing the genetically engineered organism, ninety-eight percent of the pollution was gone with no apparent harmful side effects to fish or plant life.

Katie gained approval from the EPA and Pacific Rim nations to begin testing in the Pacific. In response, the Sierra Club cut all ties with her for what they considered a betrayal.

The organism functioned even better than predicted and the pollution level in the vortex was cut in half within two years. Dr. Katerina Marglova was awarded a Nobel Prize and the world began to accept the positive potential of genetically modified organisms.

When the undeniable success of the project became apparent a few years later and the existence of the ORION Institute was made public, the Sierra Club reached out to Katie. They asked her to establish a permanent Sierra Club office at the Institute. She accepted.

Claude was pleased with Katie's work and happy for the personal recognition she was receiving, but he still wanted to keep a low profile at the Institute. Katie was attracting attention like a rock star, so Claude called her into his office to offer an assignment away from the Institute.

As they sat at his desk, he began to lay out plans for a speaking tour around the Pacific. The trip would be scheduled and funded as part of Dr. Marglova's official duties.

"It will be like a victory tour," he said. "You deserve it and don't take this as a complaint, but we could do with a few less reporters around here. The trip will be good for public relations and hopefully some of the journalists will follow you or go somewhere else."

Katie paused to think, then replied. "I'll do it on one condition. It has to be a joint tour with Dr. Adams. No matter how many times I've tried to give him credit, the news broadcasters ignore me. Ever since the original article was released about a rogue scientist breaking ranks with the Sierra Club, broadcasters have paid more attention to the color of my eyes than the real story. It doesn't help when Brian disappears every time reporters show up. It's like he's got a built-in anti-reporter radar."

Claude smiled and laughed. "It is true he hates reporters, but he insists the whole project was your idea. He and Anastasias merely helped with the grunt work."

"You do realize there wouldn't be a project without the microorganism they created?" she asked rhetorically. "I had the idea, but they did the hard part."

Claude shook his head in disagreement. "The idea is always the first and most essential part of any plan, and what you did by standing up to your colleagues at the Sierra Club was courageous."

Claude paused to consider whether or not an earlier conversation with Brian was in confidence. It took place before Katie was hired. He decided to continue.

"Brian said the two of you had a brief relationship. To be honest, he didn't think you could be trusted. I understand why you kept your online identity secret, but it was a hard thing for him to get past."

"Did he get past it?" she asked.

"Yes," Claude replied. "He told me you've become a trusted friend, but I think there's more."

"What do you mean?" Katie asked.

"I think you know," Claude answered. "I may be out of line here, but I believe Brian still has feelings for you, and not just as a friend." Claude stood and walked around the desk as Katie stood.

"I'll let Brian know what the Institute expects of him on this assignment. I hope you'll let him know what you expect. I don't want to see him hurt again."

\---------------------------------------------

Brian accompanied Katie to San Diego where they were the honored guest speakers on a two-week eco-cruise to the Hawaiian Islands, Alaska, and Seattle, Washington. The ship kept them on a busy schedule, but they managed to find a quiet place on deck each night to view the stars and share their thoughts.

They woke up before dawn on the day of the ship's arrival in Maui. A fragrance of flowers filled the air and sunrise illuminated the brilliant blue ocean. The captain anchored the ship near the small village of Lahaina. After days without seeing land, the view was breathtaking. It appeared as if God had plucked the most fertile green fields from Earth and plastered them on a giant canvas across the sky.

Brian turned to Katie and kissed her for the first time. Katie passionately responded. They embraced like two people starving for love, both wondering why they waited so long.

The next two days were the most amazing either of them could remember. It wasn't just the morning sunrise above the clouds on Mt. Haleakala, shell hunting on the beach or the magnificent scenery along the road to Hana. It was having someone to share the experience, someone who understood and appreciated the intricate beauty of nature. It was having someone look into your soul and see their reflection.

Katie and Brian left the ship in Seattle when their portion of the cruise was finished. They made several official stops before their return flight from San Francisco, but not before an unofficial trip to Sequoia National Park.

It was there, on the Crescent Meadow Trail that Katie said yes to Brian's proposal of marriage. Their relationship grew from an awkward scientific collaboration to a lifetime vow in a little over one week, but they had secretly been in love for years.

\----------------------------------------

After returning to the Institute, Brian and Katie worked tirelessly to gain a world-wide consensus for environmental cooperation. With the help of Katie's celebrity status and the reputation of the Sierra Club, Brian's draft proposal for the Code of Internationally Accepted Standards for Environmental Conservation (CIASEC) was agreed upon in 2030.

Chapter 54

### Pandora's Box

Dan started suffering dizzy spells in 2017. It was fifteen years after volunteering to be Steve's test subject for the Optical Displacement Regulator (ODR). His unsteadiness worsened culminating in a complete loss of balance.

When a series of xrays were compared to those taken years earlier, the cause became clear. Tiny subcellular particles (called otoconia) within auditory hair cells of his inner ear had changed. Something had caused them to regrow in a peculiar design.

Doctors speculated the ODR may have triggered the changes, but they were unable to explain how or why it took over a decade for symptoms to occur. The irregularities were corrected with surgery and no further action was taken at that time.

Nine years later in 2026, Dan's inner ear once again became deformed and the dizzy spells returned.

By that time, Steve and Tammy had two beautiful children and a nice home on the shore of Lake Placid near the Institute. Tammy had completed a second PhD in Biology and was working in the field of gene therapy. She concurred that the ODR was the initial cause of Dan's problem and further concluded that the ODR had altered Dan's DNA.

The bad news for Dan was that the altered DNA would cause the deformity to regrow, but the good news was that gene therapy could be used as a permanent treatment.

While Steve was traveling overseas to promote the Code of Acceptable Practices in Genetic Modification, Tammy worked with Dan to develop a long-term cure. She performed an exhaustive review of his medical records and Steve's notes from the original ODR study, plus a meticulous review of Dan's DNA.

Geneticists had compiled a complete record of Dan's unique DNA when he enrolled at the Institute in 2001, so Tammy had a detailed road-map to follow for treatment.

Tammy found it ironic that the ODR (which was possibly the most advanced piece of technology in the vault) hung for years as a modest parlor trick for guests in the entrance of J. Alfred's Bayport house.

Rather than an immediate change of Dan's inner ear, Tammy concluded the ODR stimulated the amino acids in Dan's DNA which eventually altered the otoconia. This explained why symptoms took so long to develop and returned years after surgery.

Tammy used the data from Steve's original work to adjust the ODR treatments. To the horror and loud protests of some doctors, she planned to treat Dan by exposing him to the same machine which caused the problem. Three doctors demanded she stop immediately and went to Claude for help. He called Tammy into his office.

"Give me one good reason why I should let you continue Dan's treatment," he said.

"I believe the Optical Displacement Regulator was used by the Nina Nizhoni for gene therapy," she answered. "It's a device used to change the DNA in living tissue. Treating Dan with the ODR is the only way to prevent his inner ear from becoming deformed for a third time."

"If that's true Tammy, the implications are profound. ODR therapy would provide a non-invasive technique to turn off bad genes and turn on the good. We could extend life, eradicate cancer and manage mental disorders." Claude's voice was subdued. HHe looked worried.

"You don't seem very excited. Is something wrong?" Tammy asked.

Claude said, "If you can prevent cancer and mental disorders by altering DNA with this device, you can also cause them. In theory, you could alter a person's DNA without them knowing. This device could be worse than Pandora's Box."

Despite his concerns, Claude trusted Tammy enough to continue treating Dan with the ODR. He assigned a certified geneticist to track changes at the cellular level. The geneticist was there for Dan's protection, but his findings provided Tammy with critical information proving Dan's DNA had been altered.

After successfully treating Dan's altered DNA, Tammy began considering ways to use the new form of gene therapy. She and Steve spent weeks reviewing the data when he returned from his overseas trip.

Steve rushed to Claude's office and said, "Now that we have proof repeated exposure to the ODR changes a person's DNA, I'd like to head up a project with Tammy to demonstrate the potential of the device," Steve told Claude.

Claude's expression was tense and stern. "I don't know. This thing could get out of hand real fast. What do you have in mind?"

"I think we should find an extreme case so we're easily able to verify progress. I'd like to take someone with a severe genetic personality disorder and see if we can help them."

"And where would you find such a person?"

"In prison," Steve answered.

Claude grimaced and shook his head. "No way! We've worked far too long and hard establishing ORION as a preeminent leader in the scientific community. We're not going to jeopardize our reputation by playing Doctor Frankenstein to the criminally insane."

"Just think about it for a minute Claude. Imagine what it would mean to society if we could rehabilitate violent psychopaths. They make up only two-percent of the nation, but constitute a quarter of the prison population and are responsible for the largest number of violent crimes."

Claude appeared unconvinced. "You know very well psychopaths aren't always violent or even criminal. I'll admit most are obnoxious SOBs, but they tend to be of above average intellect, productive, and creative. They're an important part of the human genetic pool and removing them could result in the loss of countless scientists, artists and geniuses. Besides, many couples are already having prenatal screening to detect genes which could lead to psychopathic development."

"I know," Steve said as he tried to reassure Claude. "I'm only asking to conduct a low-profile test program with one volunteer."

"I don't think I've ever turned down a request from you Steve, but I'm going to have to give this some serious deliberation. Submit your proposal to me in writing and I'll consider it, but I'm not optimistic."

In an effort to avoid unwanted publicity, Steve and Tammy suggested no other personnel be assigned to the project. The volunteer test subject would be Robert Lomax who was serving a life sentence for the brutal murder of at least six different victims. He had all the DNA markers associated with a violent psychopath. The prison had indicated its willingness to transfer him and Lomax agreed to cooperate in order to escape solitary confinement.

Claude initially said no to the trial, but six months later a young man walked into a high school gymnasium and murdered forty-three students before being killed by police. He had sought psychiatric help on at least two occasions.

"The ODR could have helped that man and saved those kids," Steve said as he asked once again to conduct the test. "This is why we must act," he told Claude.

"O.K.," Claude said in resignation. "But be careful, Lomax is a dangerous man. If anything happened to you or Tammy...," he hesitated, unable to finish the sentence.

Lomax was quietly transferred from the Federal Penitentiary in Leavenworth, Kansas to a high security cell at the end of an isolated tunnel under the ORION Institute. Steve and Tammy were the only people allowed to have contact with him. Even the security guards communicated and delivered supplies via an automated system.

Chapter 55

### The Program

"Hello foxy lady!" The voice called from behind the caged wall. It was Robert Lomax after his recent arrival from Kansas. "I thought I was familiar with every prison in the country, but this one has me stumped. I didn't know this place existed, but I'm not complaining. The food's good, the large screen television is real nice, and most prisons don't provide memory foam mattresses."

"We want you to be comfortable," the young woman responded in an unemotional tone.

"I can't see you very well through this cage wall. Why don't you come in and get to know me?" He laughed, taking pleasure in taunting the girl.

To his great surprise, the young woman passed her hand over a console and the door opened wide. He hesitated for a moment wondering if it was a trick. The pretty young woman was alone with him. She had no obvious weapons or pepper spray, and there appeared to be nothing to prevent his escape.

He lunged and clasped his hands around her neck, squeezing with all his strength. Her neck felt strangely rigid, but she put up very little resistance and her lifeless body fell on the floor within minutes.

"You're a real disappointment bitch," he snorted, "I usually have more fun with my prey."

He jumped through the open cell door and started running down the dark corridor. The tunnel was pitch black. He kept running and bumping into walls, and running and bumping into walls. There seemed to be no end. The room slowly filled with light when he stopped to catch his breath. He was less than thirty feet from the cell where he started. "What the Hell?" he mumbled.

The young woman he thought he'd killed was standing beside him looking completely unruffled.

"You're a real disappointment bitch," she snorted, "I usually have more fun with my prey before I put them back in their cage."

She bent down and grabbed his wrist with such force he screamed in agonizing pain while she effortlessly dragged him back to the cell.

"What in god's name are you? Where is this place? Am I in Hell?"

The cell door slammed and a man's voice spoke to him.

"Good evening Mr. Lomax. Welcome to the Institute. The young woman you encountered is a synthetic machine. We call her the Ice Queen. I trust you realize you're not in Kansas anymore."

"This isn't what I signed up for," Lomax said, still rubbing his arm. "They told me I was going to a comfortable facility for therapy, not the twilight zone with a friggin mechanical doll!"

"This is exactly what you signed up for Mr. Lomax. You aren't here to be incarcerated, you are here to be rehabilitated. You can call it therapy if you like. This place can be your salvation, or it can be your worst nightmare. It's your choice."

Lomax started laughing. "Better men than you have tried to rehabilitate me. I am what I am. I have no regrets."

"That's because you aren't capable of regrets Mr. Lomax, but we're going to change that. When we're finished, you won't be able to harm others without feeling remorse. And although you don't deserve it, you'll also know the joy and intimacy of being human."

Lomax howled with laughter. "You've got to be kidding! That's the craziest crock of crap I've ever heard."

He sat quietly for a moment. "O.K., I'll play along. This joint ain't so bad, and the mechanical lady is real easy on the eyes."

"Since no one else is allowed in your cell, she'll be your only regular visitor. Please refrain from putting your hands around her neck. She's on loan from my boss, so we don't want to get her dirty. Besides, she knows what to expect from you now and I don't think she likes you. One wrong move and she could snap your spine like a twig."

"Aye, aye, sir!" Lomax saluted facetiously. "And may I ask to whom the voice belongs?"

"My name is Steve. The other voice you hear will be Tammy. We'll be asking you several times each day what emotions and sensations you're experiencing. Answer honestly and you'll be fine. Lie, and you may suffer brain damage." Lomax nodded, then stretched out on his bed.

Steve had learned a lot from testing the ODR on Dan. The device altered both his physical and emotional perception. One setting made him laugh uncontrollably while another made him sad. Steve identified dozens of points which he used to verify if Lomax was being honest, assuming Lomax had the same response as Dan to the device.

Tammy's study revealed DNA alterations within the brain could result in personality changes within months rather than years.

Lomax's physical response was the same as Dan's, but his emotional response was extremely low. Steve and Tammy had to amplify the signal tenfold to get a minimal reading, but after six months of treatment his personality was conspicuously different.

It started with little things like saying please and thank you. His favorite television shows changed from violence to science to romance. His demeanor improved from sour and angry to cheerful, and even playful. Robert Lomax's brain scans showed a measurable increase in the Ventrolateral Frontal Cortex responsible for emotions.

Meanwhile, the Qabalah learned of the project and twisted it into stories that the ORION Institute was taking psychopaths and turning them into super soldiers. Robert Lomax was their "Exhibit A" and they found a nationally syndicated columnist to broadcast the story. The publicity was doing exactly what Claude had feared, damaging the Institute's reputation.

Alicia Welker was a well-known reporter whose sister had been sadistically killed by Lomax. She detested him and felt he should have been sentenced to death, but he got life without parole.

After she discovered Lomax was transferred from Leavenworth, an undisclosed source (the Qabalah) informed her of the ORION Institute's connection. She followed the informant's lead and found prison personnel and a driver to verify the story.

When the same source implied Lomax was one of an army of psychopaths being developed into super soldiers, she didn't ask questions. The story was fake news, but perfect for tabloids and it was exactly what she expected from a secretive organization like the Institute.

Ms. Welker was an excellent journalist, but in this case her judgement was impaired. She hated Lomax and wanted revenge. The idea of him living comfortably at the Institute was more than she could stand. "Lomax must be properly punished," she thought. Alicia felt she owed it to her little sister and the other victims.

Chapter 56

### Redemption

Stories describing an army of psychopathic super soldiers spread quickly. The Institute was being portrayed in the newspapers as the greedy arm of a vast military industrial complex. Support from some of the Institute's major supporters was beginning to waver.

Claude was furious. In an effort to correct the record, he granted Ms. Welker an interview which included an unrestricted tour of the facility.

He told Steve, "I want you to do whatever it takes to make this right! Get this thing cleared up." His face flushed, "Do you understand?"

Steve had never seen Claude so angry.

Ms. Welker arrived at the gate early on a Monday morning. She brought two cameramen along to film the tour. Steve considered cameras a serious security risk, but Claude insisted it was necessary.

Events were playing out exactly as the Qabalah had planned. The main cameraman was a personal friend of Alicia Welker. The other was sent by her unidentified informant as a backup. Alicia didn't know that the second cameraman was an anarchist working for the Qabalah. His camera was a fake, an empty shell containing a 9mm pistol and thermite explosives.

Steve greeted them, "Welcome, we are happy to have this opportunity to show you what we do here at the Institute. We don't have any super soldiers here, but I am confident you will find our work even more exciting."

Alicia's skepticism appeared to be fading as she toured the facility.

"This is a remarkable place and it appears you're doing some good work here, but where is Mr. Lomax. I know he's here. Are you hiding him?" She asked.

"I've been saving that for last," Steve answered."We'll go there now. You can interview him yourself."

Steve, Alicia, and the two cameramen climbed onto a cart and started the journey down the long corridor to the cell where Mr. Lomax was being held. Steve noticed an intense expression on Alicia's face.

"You won't recognize him. He's a different person." Steve said.

"He's a chameleon, an inter-species predator," Alicia replied. "That's why he's so dangerous. He'll say and do whatever it takes to manipulate you."

As they rode to the cell, Steve explained the process that was changing Lomax's DNA, and recent magnetic resonance imaging which revealed the physical transformation in his brain.

"He feels remorse for the horrible things he's done. He's not the same person he was before," Steve told her.

"I'm sorry to be blunt, but you and your colleagues are fools," Alicia said.

Steve nodded, acknowledging her opinion as he announced, "We've arrived."

The countless tiny metal bars of the cage obscured the view, but Alicia could see Lomax sitting in a comfortable chair, watching a wide-screen television. Blood rushed to her face as she filled with rage. Lomax appeared fit, even comfortable as he stood and turned off the T.V.

Steve's phone began to ring. He answered, "What? Can't this wait?" Then he put the phone back in his pocket and spoke to Alicia.

"This is bad timing, but I'm needed for an emergency in the vault. I'll only be gone a few minutes." Steve hastily showed them around. "You can use this remote camera feed to film Mr. Lomax during the interview. I'll be back before you're finished."

"I thought you said he's harmless?" Alicia commented. "If that's true, why can't we open the cell door?"

"To be honest Ms. Welker, we're keeping the door closed to protect Mr. Lomax from you," Steve answered with a slight laugh before he disappeared down the dark corridor.

What Steve didn't know was that the second cameraman was sending a live voice recording of the tour to the Qabalah. The phone call he received was a fake to draw him away from the others.

As soon as Steve was out of sight, the backup cameraman began to speak.

"You know this is a sham," he said. "The real facility is hidden further underground. We'll need to blast our way in."

"What are you doing?" Alicia shouted as she watched the man remove explosives from the fake camera.

"You're crazy! You'll get us killed."

"Don't worry, I know what I'm doing," the man said as he placed a small thermite charge in the corner. "Hurry, out of the room!" he shouted.

As soon as they rounded the corner, BOOM! A deafening explosion set off alarms and sprinklers. They rushed back into the room to find the cell door had opened automatically when the fire suppression system activated. Robert Lomax had been knocked to the floor and was covered with blood.

"Good, you aren't dead yet," the bogus cameraman said to Lomax. "Now get in there with him" he ordered Alicia and the cameraman as he pointed the gun at them.

"Why are you doing this? We're on the same side," Alicia asked in stunned confusion.

"Sorry darlin, I've got my orders. You and the cameraman will soon join your sister. By the time Steve gets back, you'll all be dead and I'll claim Lomax killed you before I killed him."

"You won't get away with it," Alicia said.

"Not only will I get away with it, the publicity should be enough to put the ORION Institute out of business for good," the bogus cameraman said.

Then he pointed the gun at Alicia and pulled the trigger, but Lomax had struggled to his feet and jumped in front of her. The bullet ricocheted off a rib as it passed through Lomax's chest. It hit Alicia in the knee, knocking her to the ground.

Alicia's cameraman wrestled for the gun and it discharged into his hip. Somehow he found the strength to keep fighting. The gun went off again, up through the attacker's chin and exiting the top of his head. He died instantly.

The heat from the thermite was too much for the fire suppression system. Smoke was filling the room as the flames were spreading out of control. Even the metal bars on Lomax's cell were burning. Neither the cameraman nor Alicia could walk. They embraced each other before passing out, certain they were going to die.

\---------------------------------------------

The next thing Alicia heard was a cheerful voice, "It's good to see you awake!"

"Where am I?" she asked.

"You're at Tampa General Hospital," the nurse answered. "You've had surgery on your knee, been treated for smoke inhalation, and it appears you're well on your way to recovery."

"My cameraman, Larry Nichols, is he O.K.?"

"He's undergoing a second surgery on his hip, but his prospects look good."

"How did I get here?"

The nurse shrugged, "I wasn't here when you were admitted, but you have a couple visitors who may be able to answer your question."

Steve and Tammy were waiting at the door. "Well hello sleeping beauty. You gave us quite a scare." Tammy said.

"I thought we were going to die. How did I get here?" Alicia asked again.

"I brought a tablet with me to show you the security videos taken on Monday during the fire. I think it will explain a lot," Tammy answered.

The video showed Robert Lomax in agonizing pain, his body revoltingly burnt and bloody as he dragged Alicia and Larry a quarter mile down a smoke-filled passageway.

It stunned Alicia to see a selfless act from such a monster, but it was what he did just before he died that affected her most. He gently cradled her head and spoke to her like a beloved child.

"Your sister asked me to tell you how much she loved you. I didn't understand it then, but I do now. God forgive me, I can't forgive myself."

As he took his last breath, tears were running down his face. They weren't caused by pain, but by unfamiliar emotions or remorse he was experiencing for the first time.

\---------------------------------------------

Alicia recovered and wrote a series of articles describing her experience and the ODR project. The good publicity repaired the Institute's reputation and earned Steve additional support for the Code of Acceptable Practices in Human Genetic Modification.

Chapter 57

### Resource-Based Economy

Matt and Brian shared an office on the third level of module twenty-three, section four of the ORION Institute. Dan brought lunch and joined them at a table set up to take advantage of the panoramic view of the Institute. Brian apologized to Dan for the tattered Man of La Mancha poster Matt still had hanging on the wall.

"Why do you keep that ugly thing?" Dan asked.

"For motivation," Matt answered. "The 'so-called' experts say the Resource-Based Economy (RBE) will never work. They call it 'the impossible dream.'"

Brian nodded agreement with the 'experts' and said, "I know you've told us before, but tell us again why you think it can work?"

"It's more than an economic system," Matt answered. "It's a quantum leap in social evolution. An RBE is a philosophy which considers all essential goods and services to be common property."

Dan said, "That's Communism. It sounds compassionate on paper, but the most corrupt people always take control."

"I think of it more like efficient Socialism where resources are shared, but the leaders still answer to the people," Matt replied.

Dan exhaled in resignation and said, "I know Socialism is the 'in-thing' these days, but it worries me.

Matt continued, "You've identified the problem. We Americans have an inherent distrust of anything resembling Socialism or Communism. The United States was founded on a classic free market economy. It's been the most successful economic model in history."

"If the free market works so well, what's the problem?" Dan asked.

"We can do better; it's time for the next step. Our current system is based on scarcity which paradoxically creates shortages. Today's technology has advanced to a level where production makes it possible for everyone on Earth to enjoy a high standard of living.

"It still sounds like Communism," Dan replied.

"Definitely not!" Matt said. "First off, pure Communism exists only in textbooks. Even the economies of nations like Russia and China are hybrids, and until recently maintained political control through hierarchies more like dictatorships than Communism."

"What makes you think a resource-based economy will be different in the end? How can everyone be well-off?" Dan asked.

Matt smiled. "Because we have seen it work here!" He said and then asked, "How do you like living at the Institute?"

Dan knew why Matt asked that particular question. The ORION Institute operated under the resource-based economic system. Computers linked everything: buildings, machinery, and equipment. They coordinated every detail of the daily routine a thousand times more efficiently than humanly possible. All necessary resources were provided. Residents were free to pursue the tasks they enjoyed. As a result, worker productivity and job satisfaction were extraordinarily high.

"I love working here," Dan answered. "I get to concentrate on work I enjoy rather than worrying about scheduling, supplies, payroll, and other extraneous stuff."

"So wouldn't it be great if the whole world was like this?" Matt asked.

"Sure, but Mr. Weston's billions helped pay for this place. Who's going to pay for a global transition?" Dan asked.

"It pays for itself," Matt answered. "The system will more than compensate for the cost by allowing people to engage in activities which add to the common good. Millions of bankers, insurance agents, lawyers, stockbrokers, marketing/advertising, and sales people are required to maintain the current inefficient system. Under the RBE, most of those jobs won't be needed which releases enormous potential productivity."

"That's a huge problem," Dan replied. "What happens to those people when you take away their jobs? It will be chaos!"

"It won't be easy, but most will be retrained. Preliminary surveys indicate over 90% have a positive outlook toward a career change of their choice. There will always be a need for specialized services so those who wish to continue those jobs may do so."

"I still say a free market like the one in the U.S. is the best way to give the greatest number of people a chance to succeed," Dan contended.

"It was, but not anymore. The U.S. is still a world leader in providing for its citizens, but per capita we have more people in prison than any other developed country. Since most prisoners feel crime was their best or only option, I would argue that many are no different than political prisoners. We spend a ridiculous amount of money locking them up rather than giving them the tools they need to be contributing members of society. The result is enormous expense, loss of potential human productivity, and the unnecessary destruction of lives."

Matt truly believed in the Resource-Based Economy, but a world where resources are communal was still too much for Dan to accept. "It goes against human nature," he thought.

Dan walked through one of the family housing areas after lunch. A few pre-teenage children were playing near an area where a variety of toys were neatly stowed. He asked, "Who owns these toys?"

One of the boys answered, "We all do."

"Wouldn't you like to have your own toys?" Dan asked.

The oldest boy answered, "That's silly! Why would I trade ten toys for one just so I can keep it away from the others?"

Dan realized the children had grown up at the Institute and were taught that individual property ownership was inefficient. They had been taught how private property worked on the outside, but still preferred the RBE system where everything is shared.

The boy's answer made him think, "Maybe Matt's brave new world is possible if taught at an early age. Collective ownership does appear to be more efficient."

Dan still couldn't escape his discomfort with a system which traditionally discouraged or even prohibited belief in God.

\------------------------------------------------

Brian's sister Jamie had married Matt a few years after graduation from ORION. Dan wondered how she could reconcile the RBE with Christianity. He remembered candidly asking her at the couple's rehearsal dinner, "Doesn't it bother you that Matt is promoting a secular humanist movement?"

She replied, "I asked myself WWJD? What would Jesus do?"

"I don't remember seeing any mention of Jesus in the RBE." Dan replied.

"The question is which system would Jesus prefer? Would he approve of our free market system which charges higher interest rates to people least able to pay and makes some wealthy while many suffer in poverty?"

"Probably not," Dan mumbled.

"Or," she continued, "Would Jesus prefer a method that allows everyone to share in the abundant resources God has provided?"

Her answer made Dan realize Matt was marrying the right woman. He and Jamie were a perfect mix of logic, heart, and faith.

Still, Dan remembered that socialism/communism requires giving up much freedom for the common good. Power inevitably winds up in the hands of a few individuals and history and human nature has often proven that is not good.

\-----------------------------------------------

Dan and Jamie traveled together to promote the new RBE philosophy, but mistakenly assumed small socialized countries would be eager to join the program. They failed to realize how difficult it would be to get countries to participate. When no country was initially willing to try the RBE, they decided to suggest an incremental approach. Rather than implementing the program all at once, one free resource would be offered at a time. Since the Institute had developed efficient solar cells and a method to tap into the worldwide electromagnetic energy grid, energy was the logical choice. Who could argue with free energy?

The problem with the incremental approach was governments would still be using money for other parts of their economy, but would receive no money for the energy they provided. (The energy was free, but there were still significant costs distributing it.)

Even with the Institute's help, most countries couldn't afford it and the program put them at a competitive disadvantage when dealing with other nations.

A few businesses and schools like the Institute had implemented the RBE, but they were on a small scale. Nations weren't willing to put their entire economies at risk for such a radical concept.

Years passed with no takers. Claude's support for the RBE was starting to slip when the tiny country of Iceland agreed to participate. They had a strong Socialist tradition and surprised the world when they nationalized most of their energy sector and transformed from one of Europe's poorest countries into one with a high standard of living.

In 2032, Iceland began a test program providing free energy. New industries sprang up to take advantage of the free utility. Instead of economic collapse, their economy became far more efficient. Two years later they became the first country to fully implement the Resource-Based Economy.

Iceland's homogenous society enabled them to easily establish voluntary standards for resource distribution. Instead of the bleak unimaginative results many in the U.S. expected, creativity and prosperity flourished. The results were irrefutable.

Iceland's economy was the most efficient in the world, and their Gross National Happiness was so high it made the proverbial "Great American Dream" sound like a bad joke.

Denmark was the next to implement the RBE, followed by other Scandinavian countries. Greece, Italy and Spain weren't far behind. By 2041, most of the world, including the United States, had either converted or were in the process. As each country joined, the system became more successful.

The ORION Institute was becoming a major gathering place for world events. Chris, Steve, and Brian were also making progress and it seemed like their view of a utopian world was in sight.

In spite of the progress, the Qabalah was preparing to unleash a sinister plan which would enslave humanity.

Chapter 58

### Networks

The Qabalah continued to support terrorism while provoking domestic and international disagreements in the year 2042. Claude questioned why the clones hadn't attempted to sabotage the electromagnetic energy grid. He called Haley and the other Prophies into his office to ask for help.

"We recently completed construction of the fiftieth relay station of the global energy grid. There's been no terrorist activity and very little political opposition."

"That's great news Claude, so why do you sound worried?" Chris asked.

"I think the Qabalah is up to something."

"They sure are," Chris responded. "They're frightening people by claiming that Haley's unique capabilities are proof she is the Anti-Christ. The tabloids are full of the stories!"

"We know Chris; we're working to counter the lies. I understand how disturbing it must be for Haley, but that isn't why I called you here. I want to know why the Qabalah hasn't tried to disrupt the energy grid. They stand to lose a great deal when the system becomes fully operational next year."

"Is it possible we've weakened them so much they no longer have the ability to attack?" Steve asked.

"I wish," Claude answered. "But our sources tell us they're as powerful as ever. We've received several reports of Qabalah agents actively helping to implement the project. We need to know why."

"Maybe they see the energy grid as a good thing," Steve said. "Could the Qabalah be on our side for a change? The energy grid makes the world more productive. Doesn't that mean more for them?"

"Actually Steve, the energy grid makes the world more efficient. It won't necessarily be more productive. Efficiency means less excess; the Qabalah takes their cut from the excess. Besides, they relish power and the energy grid eliminates their control."

Claude looked around the room.

"There has to be something we're missing. I want you to keep your eyes open for trouble. Be ready to respond when the time comes ... and it will."

When they finished the discussion, Haley asked Dan to meet separately with her and the other Prophies.

"You need to be brought up to speed on a project we've been working on. Meet us at our usual place around noon."

The usual place was a small clearing in the woods with no surveillance cameras or listening devices. It was their preferred hangout as students, but it had been many years since their last meeting.

The others were already there when Dan arrived. They were standing ten feet apart in a circle with their backs to each other. Chris was holding a soccer ball.

He turned and threw it hard toward Brian's back. Brian spun around to catch the ball seconds before it hit. Chris turned around while Brian threw the ball at Haley who whirled around at the last possible second to catch it. Dan thought it looked like a bizarre circus act.

They continued playing the game until each caught the ball several times. Then without anyone saying a word, they turned to walk toward Dan.

"How do you like our new trick?" Steve grinned.

"So is this some kind of mental telepathy?" Dan asked.

"We're working on it," Haley replied. "But it takes practice. That's why we're doing this exercise."

"It looks like you've got it mastered." Dan said. "Nobody came close to dropping the ball. Even if you shouted directions to me, there is no way I could turn around at the last second to catch it like you guys."

"You should've seen us the first time we tried," Matt said, laughing. "It looked more like a dodge ball tournament."

"We don't communicate through telepathy," Haley said. "It's shared consciousness. It's very personal."

"What do you mean by personal?" Dan asked.

"Well, for instance," Haley looked at Steve. "I know exactly how it felt down to the most intimate detail, when Steve kissed Tammy for the first time."

"Whoa!" Steve yelped, "That's quite enough thank you very much."

Dan was puzzled. "How can you think straight when someone else's thoughts are in your head? Isn't it confusing?" he asked.

"Less than you'd think," Haley answered. "Each of us share the other's memories. It's no different than the memories you have. We aren't aware of the information until we recall it."

"Then how do you explain the way you're able to catch a ball?"

"Practice," the five of them said in unison.

"Then I have one more question. Why are you telling me?"

"You're a part of our team, always have been and always will be," Chris said.

"But I don't have any special abilities like you guys."

Steve patted Dan on the back.

"The Institute didn't recruit you for your pretty face. You're one of the few people on the planet whose DNA isn't mixed with Nina Nizhoni genes. You are pure Homo-sapiens, whatever that means. None of us knows why it's important, but the QBIFI predicted you have a vital role to play."

Haley reached out and held his hand. "We love you Dan; it's that simple."

Chapter 59

### One World Order

Claude's instincts were correct. Members of the Qabalah were actively supporting the energy grid in pursuit of their own agenda. They infiltrated the militant outlaw group Amalgamation Alliance whose goal was to establish a one-world order. The Resource Based Economy had conditioned many people to believe that the one-world order was the next logical step.

The world envisioned by the Qabalah would be under their control, but since there were only twenty-one surviving clones, the Alliance didn't consider them a threat. The clones revealed their secret existence to assume key positions within the Alliance. This made them more powerful than ever, but also more vulnerable.

\----------------------------------

A spokesman wearing the familiar black cape, bowler hat, and thick dark glasses addressed an assembly of high-ranking Alliance members.

"We are offering you the means to establish a one-world order which will unite the planet. Claude Gautier doesn't want you to know the full potential of the energy grid. He claims the ORION Institute wants nations to work together, but their real goal is to keep the world divided while they selfishly hoard technology. They dole out little crumbs to keep corrupt politicians under their control."

The cluster of Alliance members were enthralled. They began chanting, "Qabalah, Qabalah, Qabalah!" The speaker continued.

"The ORION Institute offers half-truths. They say the electromagnetic energy grid will bring the world closer together by providing a free resource, but that doesn't begin to reveal its true potential. The energy grid can serve as a conduit to a collective consciousness, an interconnected state of mind. We in the Qabalah have enjoyed this ability for thousands of years, but Claude Gautier and the ORION Institute fear losing their power if humans are given the gift. I am prepared to demonstrate to those who seek the knowledge."

\--------------------------

One by one, Alliance members stood before the clone and conversed telepathically as they witnessed breathtaking scenes from the Qabalah's memory. They were profoundly moved by the experience and offered their unquestioned allegiance. The clone spoke again to the crowd.

"Human brain waves are similar to radio waves, transmitted at the sub-atomic level. By piggybacking a signal within the electromagnetic energy grid, humans may share consciousness as we do. You will truly understand each other, achieving an unprecedented level of harmony to establish the one-world order. You will ascend to the next level of evolution!"

The Alliance joined forces with the Qabalah. They attached small transmitters on each of the electromagnetic energy devices within the fifty major relay stations. The Qabalah gave specific instructions not to activate the transmitters until a later date. They said time was needed to calibrate the devices.

As the Qabalah requested, the conscious-sharing devices remained inactive when the final stations of the energy grid came online. The whole world celebrated the new energy grid and applauded the ORION Institute for initiating the project which produced a virtually unlimited source of clean energy. It seemed Claude's dream of a more peaceful world was nearing reality.

But peace quickly turned into conflict as the Qabalah secretly instigated dozens of international conflicts. They spread false intelligence reports which claimed nations were trying to disrupt the energy grid of nearby nations.

Iran prepared to invade Saudi Arabia. India and Pakistan were on the verge of war. North Korea sank a South Korean trawler, and China destroyed an American submarine.

The world was on the brink of chaos within weeks. Peace and tranquility which had been promised by the Institute was falling apart. Internet chat rooms claimed the ORION Institute was responsible for the unrest to make the world more dependent upon them.

The Qabalah knew that if the conscious-sharing device was activated, the immediate effect would be peace and calm around the world. They would be heroes and use the people's gratitude to launch their own plan of world domination.

The device was activated ...

Dan was developing a computerized scheduling program for Claude, becoming frustrated because he didn't understand what Claude wanted. Suddenly he knew exactly what Claude wanted and why.

He completed the work and rushed out of the office to show Claude. The first person he passed was a student he didn't know, except he remembered every detail of her entire life, and she knew him the same way. They stopped and began talking like long-lost friends. Their bond was more intimate than identical twins.

Dan found the same shared memories with everyone he met. It was the most wonderful day he had ever experienced. He never imagined such a sense of belonging.

World conflicts melted away overnight. Virtually all murder and violent crime ended. The word "family" is pathetically inadequate to describe how close people felt. Within a week, the word "I" had no meaning. Only "We" existed.

The few people on the planet not part of the new reality included Haley, Steve, Matt, Brian, Mike, and the Qabalah. Dan wondered what happened to his friends, but they seemed distant and cut off. In less than a month, he could barely remember them.

Even though the Qabalah wasn't part of the unified consciousness, people felt gratitude to them for creating the connection. They had no way of knowing the Qabalah stayed detached for a reason:

Brain waves can be manipulated and altered, much the same as digital information on a computer. The Qabalah established a link to manipulate thoughts within the consciousness. With a few simple memory and attitude adjustments, the Qabalah had complete control of everyone on the planet..., except Haley and Dan's former friends. If they could find a way to destroy Haley, the others could be controlled.

It wouldn't be easy to kill Haley. She was the most advanced genetically engineered being on the planet. They had tried to assassinate her before, but she detected their presence. She could visualize more interactions than the QBIFI. She was virtually untouchable, but the Qabalah had a plan.

There was one person close to her without any Nina Nizhoni DNA. One person she couldn't detect. One person she trusted and who could deliver the fatal blow ... Daniel Naidoo.

Chapter 60

### Memories

Efficiency was maximized under the unified consciousness, but it didn't take long before the thrill of oneness began to wear off. It's hard to explain how an indescribable sense of belonging could so quickly transform into isolation.

Without the daily interactions of different perspectives and points of view, the masses felt alone. Eight billion people existed as a single mind, like a colony of ants with no purpose except to work together for the good of the hive.

Instead of anger directed toward the Qabalah for creating the condition, humanity became even more dependent upon them. Haley and Dan's friends were in hiding, so the Qabalah were the only ones who could break the monotony. They also manipulated the unified consciousness to believe Haley was an enemy who used her supernatural abilities to control Chris, Steve, Matt, and Brian.

As the only person who could get close to Haley, the Qabalah gave Dan a special mission and then separated his consciousness from the others. It would enable him to perform the assignment without Haley being suspicious.

Dan was no longer connected to the others, but the collective was still fresh in his memory. He knew what he had to do, kill Haley.

The Qabalah made Dan believe Haley would try to make contact and turn him against them. He laughed, thinking nothing could turn him against them. It was his duty to kill Haley and free his childhood friends from her control.

The Qabalah had taken over the ORION Institute and renamed it the Qabalah Temple. Haley wouldn't dare come there, so Dan was sent to the river where the Qabalah had detected her presence. He was instructed to bring back her medallion as proof of her death.

\---------------------------------

The river was even more peaceful than Dan remembered. There were no children, boaters, or fishermen to disturb the tranquility. People didn't waste their time fishing and swimming. They were part of the collective consciousness now. It looked like no one had been at the river for years.

A dusty canoe was still hanging from the side of Mr. Naidoo's old house. Dan dragged it to the river's edge and tossed it over the same seawall where he celebrated his sixteenth birthday. Tears ran down his face as he recalled how wonderful it felt to be an individual, but he couldn't forget his responsibility to the collective. Haley was evil and must be destroyed.

Dan searched the area, but there was no sign of her. He retrieved a paddle from the shed and started making his way up the river.

Blue crabs scurried along the bottom. They reminded him of the morning swims from years earlier when Chris would shout "Crab."

A half dozen alligators were sunning on the shore of a deserted Rogers Park. There were no teenagers jumping off the bridge, no music, no laughter. The only sounds were the ghostly echoes of memories in Dan's mind: "happy birthday to us;" "Yabadabadoooo;" "I think I'm falling in love."

He suddenly knew where to find Haley, at the hidden spring. It was the place he would be most emotionally vulnerable. He continued and when he arrived at the entrance, the old tree limb was gone, the hidden creek exposed. He followed the stream and found Haley sitting beneath a willow tree.

"Hello Dan," she said softly. She looked more like an angel than the devil.

"You're here to kill me aren't you?" she asked.

"If you know that, then why am I still alive?"

"Because I love you. It's as simple as that," she answered.

He moved closer and stepped onto the shore. She stood within inches of him, but there was no fear in her eyes. "She is the devil," he thought.

His hand was trembling as he pulled out the dagger the Qabalah had given him.

"Do it!" she screamed. "Kill me!"

"I can't di it," he cried.

Suddenly before he could move, she reached up and pulled the medallion from around her neck. She grabbed the dagger and thrust it deep into her own chest.

"No!" Dan screamed. "Please God, no! Why Haley, why?"

He looked into her eyes. They shared consciousness by some means even the Qabalah couldn't explain.

"Take this medallion to show them I am dead. The Qabalah will trust you and allow you to again share consciousness with the others. Then they will know the truth."

She died in his arms. There was no expression of pain or sorrow, only a kind smile and her last words, "Don't be sad, it's all part of God's plan."

\---------------------------------------------

The Qabalah welcomed Dan as a hero and even gathered at a celebration in his honor. They considered Haley's death a great victory. A ceremony was planned to reconnect Dan to the worldwide consciousness. The Supreme Leader's address was broadcast around the world.

"Although we in the Qabalah aren't part of your collective consciousness, we rejoice with you in the extermination of our common enemy. We present to you the conqueror, Daniel Naidoo. He will rejoin you this night, so you may all share in this victory and be aware of the Qabalah's infinite power."

Dan was relinked to the collective, but the reaction wasn't what the Qabalah expected. Through Dan's eyes, the people saw Haley as she truly was, pure and innocent.

Haley knew the Qabalah would kill Dan if he didn't carry out the mission, so she chose to die in his place. She wasn't the Anti-Christ the Qabalah claimed, but rather a true disciple of Christ.

\----------------------------

The Qabalah's plan was exposed. Humanity saw them as evil manipulators. People also understood what was lost by giving up their individualism.

Every member of the Qabalah was dead before sunrise, and the collective consciousness was disconnected. People were again free to make their own choices and mistakes.

The world mourned the loss of Haley, but the memory of the collective consciousness remained strong. Peace and prosperity continued.

Haley's death haunted Dan. He hadn't seen Chris, Steve, Matt, or Brian since they went into hiding. "Where are they?" he wondered.

J. Alfred suggested Dan go back to the river to look for them. He understood why Haley did what she did, but was still responsible for her death. How could his friends forgive him?

Dan arrived at the river to find it alive with activity. He paddled his canoe past hundreds of homes and docks packed with people laughing and socializing. When he reached the hidden spring, it was silent except for the song of a Carolina Wren.

"Cannonball!" The sound of Steve's voice boomed as a huge splash erupted in the middle of the spring. "Welcome back Danny boy, we waited for you!" Steve shouted as he emerged and grabbed hold of the canoe.

"Steve!" Dan howled with excitement. "Where have you been and where are Chris, Matt, and Brian?"

"Over here," Matt answered from the shore. Dan looked around and the three of them were standing close together, smiling as if they were concealing something.

"Why are you guys standing like that?" Dan asked.

"Hello Daniel," a familiar voice sounded like a beautiful melody to his ears. It was Haley! Tears of joy welled in his eyes. He jumped out of the canoe, swam over to hug her.

"Hey, that's enough. That's my wife," Chris said, laughing.

"Are you O.K.?" Dan asked. "I don't understand. I thought you were dead."

"I wasn't hurt," Haley explained. "I'm sorry I had to fool you, but if you didn't believe I was dead, the Qabalah would know. They would have killed you."

"But how did you do it? I watched you die."

"An old Jedi mind trick," Chris joked.

Haley reached out and touched Dan's cheek. At that moment, he remembered. She didn't grab the dagger from him. She placed the medallion in his hand which created the vision of her death.

"People will be overjoyed when they learn you're alive." Dan said.

Haley's smile was full of compassion as she shook her head, no.

"I don't want anyone other than my friends to know I'm alive. Queen Mahu Kuwanlelenta is dead, at least for now. I want to be Haley Hagan: wife, archaeologist, and mother."

Chapter 61

### Brave New World

In an ironic twist, humanity's greatest enemy had imparted the greatest gift. The world was no longer under a single consciousness, but the memories of their unity remained.

For the first time in human history, mankind recognized the opportunity and seized the moment. National leaders came together, and in 2046 the world established what was known as The Four Pillars of the Great Coalescence:

1. The Treaty of Religious Acceptance

2. The Code of Acceptable Practices in Human Genetic Modification

3. The Sustainable Resource-Based Economic System

4. The Code of Internationally Accepted Standards for Environmental Conservation

ORION Institute continued its goal of creating a better world for humanity. Claude and Noreen were cherished celebrities who traveled around the world, returning home each month to dance under the Tree of Life.

J. Alfred didn't remarry, but stayed busy as Director of the Institute.

Steve and Tammy performed research while serving on the Institute's Board of Directors. They remained in their comfortable Lake Placid home with three adorable children living nearby, each with flamboyant red hair and conspicuous freckles.

Matt and Jamie both became esteemed ORION professors, living with their two children in the house Claude built on the Institute.

Brian and Katie served as joint directors for the Archbold Biological Station. They spent their vacations visiting the world's most spectacular conservation sites.

Chris and Haley moved into the house J. Alfred built in Bayport. Chris became pastor of a large local church, while Haley spent most of her time pampering their four children, all of whom had beautiful emerald eyes.

The most peaceful spot on the property was a small cemetery where Angela and Rebecca Weston were buried, along with Elizabeth Shelby-Rogers next to her husband Renee.

Linda and Dan moved to be closer to his father in Ocala. Mr. Naidoo died in 2052, a week short of his 100th birthday. Dan helped Linda run an equine rescue foundation. He also traveled the country giving lectures describing how the Four Pillars of the Great Coalescence were created.

No matter what other things were happening in their lives, the Prophies traveled to the Weeki Wachee River every year to visit the hidden spring. Many kids had discovered it, but they happily shared it with the old folks who had become legends. For a brief time each year the Prophies were young again, and it had nothing to do with the Tree of Life.

Linda and Dan had two children who were grown with children of their own when Dan received an invitation to speak at the University of Georgia in 2076. Though his short-term memory was failing, the dream he had on his sixteenth birthday remained clear.

Dan made sure his affairs were in order and kissed Linda goodbye. She knew this day was approaching because they discussed the dream many times. They agreed it was his destiny, but Linda didn't want to know the exact date. He could tell from her kiss goodbye she suspected.

"I love you," she said, holding back tears.

The visit to the University went exactly as Dan remembered. It was as if he couldn't change his fate even if he wanted.

He remembered details from the last seconds of the dream on his sixteenth birthday. He saw the faces of young people in the audience, realizing his lecture was the most excitement many of them had ever experienced.

Dan's life had been exhilarating and challenging, but the world the Prophies helped create for the next generation was dull and predictable. They managed to create a successful socialist world where everyone was equal, but personal freedom and creativity was lost. Those people lived in someone else's version of the perfect world, an artificial, non-violent, asexual world. It wasn't much better than what the Qabalah had in mind.

Dan realized there is no perfection on this Earth, only the dream. A familiar nursery rhyme played in his head as his heart stopped beating.

"We are all God's children \- he allows us to play - but he calls us home safely - at the end of the day."

An infinite number of universes with an infinite variety of life appeared before him in the multiverse. He could see planet Earth in all its beauty and variation while remembering the words of Jesus as quoted in the fourteenth chapter, second verse of John. "In my Father's house are many dwelling places...."

There were loved ones from previous generations, and those from generations yet to come. He was there for a moment and there for all eternity.

"How can this be?" he wondered as he sensed a familiar voice.

"You're thinking in linear terms. Time has no meaning here."

"Renee?" he thought. It was his old friend from Bayport.

"I see you have many treasures to offer," he said.

"I don't understand. What treasures?"

"Your life," Renee answered.

"But my friends were the ones who changed the world. I was just along for the ride."

"You still don't understand my friend. It is not what you have accomplished in life, but what you have experienced. It is not about the destination, but the lessons of the journey. Each soul is allowed to exist separate from the father for a short time. Whatever happens, achievements or disappointments, adds to the infinite mosaic of our shared existence."

Suddenly Dan's life as Daniel Naidoo passed before him: the good and the bad, the wonderful and exquisite, the tragic and painful.

The memories were beautiful, but only a tiny part of this new reality. It was an eternal dwelling that had no beginning and no end. His life on Earth had been a dream, a mere shadow reality.

He would travel again without leaving his eternal home. A small part of him was being reborn on Earth or some other world. As that part of his consciousness was entering a new life, he heard Renee's voice.

"Life is a journey, not a destination. Live valiantly my friend but always remember, this is not your true home."

200

