"One week ago, my good friend—my dearest friend—Stuart Thatcher, stood where I am standing now. His speech was cut off mysteriously as global communications were suddenly disrupted. As communications were restored, my dear friend collapsed and died right at the desk, which he had occupied in this chamber for twenty years. Because of the loss of television and radio coverage, Senator Hatcher's words were never heard ... and to the shame of the press, never reported. Therefore, I am going to begin today by reading his words into the record for all the world to hear."
Ray and Arnold exchanged triumphant smiles.
"That wily sonofabitch,” Ray said. “Let's see those bastards ignore it now."
Harold had calculated brilliantly. He was taking advantage of the fact that even the worst person is generally afforded the benefit of the doubt immediately upon his death. The reporters, eager to show everyone how wise, compassionate and caring they were, would have no choice but to report Stuart's speech.
Harold produced a black leather folder from his briefcase and slowly and methodically removed Stuart's speech from it, making sure every movement was observed by all present.
The senate chamber grew eerily silent as Harold placed the papers on the podium and took his reading glasses from his pocket. After sweeping the chamber with a long, stern gaze, he began reading.
"'It may surprise some of you to hear me speak out against a bill which seems to incorporate all I have fought for my entire career ... ‘"
* * * *
"YOU MUST REMEMBER above all else, everything begins with thought,” Raji said to Nicole and Susan. “Nicole, when I held your head under the water, you were consumed with only one thought ... to get air. You added the emotion of utter fear to that thought. The thought, plus the emotion, gave you power. In this particular case, your power was focused on the narrow objective of survival and, as we all can see,” he smiled kindly, “you did manage to survive."
Susan had managed to get over her anger at Raji, more for Angelino's sake than anything else. Raji's seemingly harsh tactic underscored the urgency and importance of why they were there. Whatever Raji had to teach her, she wanted to learn it. Angelino would require her protection and whatever powers she could manage to acquire would be directed toward that end. Nicole, on the other hand, seemed to have totally forgotten the incident. If she could, so could Susan.
"What was going through your mind when you found you could not free yourself from my grip in the water, Nicole?” Raji asked her.
"I did not want to die,” she said thoughtfully.
"What was your very first thought?"
Nicole mulled the question for a moment. “I could not understand why you wanted to harm me. I was confused. Then I became frightened. Then I thought maybe I had been tricked ... that you were executing me for my past crimes and for trying to harm Father Angelino."
"Then what happened?"
"When I could not get air, I grew frightened."
"Yes. And?"
"And then all I could think of was getting air. At first I thought someone would save me, but once I realized I was on my own, I forgot everything else. I was frightened and angry. But above all else, I needed to breathe again."
"Then what happened?"
"After that, I do not remember. The next thing I knew, my head was out of the water and I was gasping for air, relieved that I was not dead."
"Very good!” Raji exclaimed.
"I don't understand, Master Raji."
"It is very simple, Nicole. You transcended just your thoughts and became one with the results of those thought. In this case, your survival. All else became subservient to that."
Nicole still did not comprehend.
"You must abandon everything to that which you seek to manifest if you wish to make that which you desire real. That is the key to creation—the most basic ability of man, created in the image of God, Himself."
"I am trying to understand,” Nicole said, somewhat exasperated.
"Don't try to force the knowledge, Nicole. Just allow it to penetrate your subconscious mind. When you need the knowledge, it will be there for you."
Susan had been absorbing the exchange between Nicole and Raji and had a question of her own.
"Master Raji, all my life I have been taught to reason, to use my willpower. What you are telling us seems to be exactly the opposite of that. How do I reconcile the two?"
"In truth, Susan, the two ideas are not in conflict with each other, although on the surface they seem to be. The process by which true power is generated happens without will or effort, but it requires a conscious effort of the mind, via thought, to initiate. Think of it this way: Let's say there is a large boulder you wish to roll down a hill. In order to do this, you must apply physical force to the boulder to start it in motion. Once that is done, the law of gravity takes over and the boulder rolls without any further effort from you. That is how the creative process works. You first consciously create the thought of that which you desire and then you allow the natural force of the Law to take over from there.
"The Bible begins with the statement, ‘In the beginning was the Word.’ The Word is thought, or even more fundamentally, conceptualization. When God said, ‘Let there be light,’ and then there was light, first came the conception, and only then came the manifestation. When you work in this way you are emulating the very mind of God. Indeed, whether you intend to or not, you create in this fashion. All you have manifested in your life you have created by this process, whether for ill or for good.
"You must master control of this art, and quickly."
"It all seems so impossible, Raji. There just isn't enough time,” Susan said with resignation.
"Is failure what you are attempting to create, Susan?” Raji said sharply.
"No, or course not."
"Then why are you creating it?"
Susan blinked silently at him. He continued.
"You see how habitually our thoughts form without conscious effort? You are so conditioned to think a certain way you no longer bother to observe your thoughts. You let them run unchecked within the wasteland of your own mind, where they plant seeds which grow into fruits which manifest all around you. If you think thoughts of failure, you plant seeds that will guarantee it.
"You are the thinker of your thoughts. Your thoughts are not random occurrences. Thoughts seem random at times because you have so habitually created them you no longer make the connection between the thought and its very creator—you."
He smiled kindly at Susan. “How hard it will be and how long it will take depends on how committed you are to creating your own thoughts and building your destiny.” Then he grew sterner. “Or will you continue to be ruled by thoughts which were not even created by you in the first place but rather were simply blindly accepted by you when offered to you by others?"
Nicole's face seemed to light up with realization. She said, excitedly, “I think I understand, Master Raji. It is like what it was for me when I was with the Council. I was told what to believe and what to think from the time I was a very little girl. By the time I grew up, I did not question any thought in my head. I just accepted and did what the Council asked of me.
"But then, when I saw the wonderful love Angelino and all the others had for each other, it made me think. I had not actually formed my own thoughts for a very, very long time. It confused me, and then distressed me, and finally angered me. Now I understand what was happening to me. It was like my old thoughts had a life of their own and were fighting for their very survival."
"You learn well, my child,” Raji beamed at her. “You have discovered an important truth—that you are the maker of your destiny. Whatever thought may fill your mind, at any moment you may change what you are thinking. This is the dominion which your Bible refers to as being yours."
Susan became absorbed in thoughts of her own. Raji allowed her to follow her thoughts silently. After a few minutes, she spoke. “I understand something else, too. It was something th
at happened to me while I was still with Crowley, Jesus, and Mathias back in Washington. I had grown so timid and frightened. I did not even know myself anymore. I felt as if I was a leaf being blown in a strong wind. And that's exactly what I had become.
"But then, I had a revelation. I'm not sure if this is what you are talking about, Master Raji, but it seems to me there is something even more fundamental than thought."
"And what is that, Susan?” Raji's eyes twinkled.
"Choice."
Raji raised an eyebrow. “Please continue, Susan."
"In order for us to be able to direct our thoughts, we must first make the decision to do so ... we must make the conscious choice. Everything derives from the power of choice."
She began to warm up to the topic and became more animated.
"Choice is the liberating principle of mankind. Without it, we cannot be said to be free. The most nefarious slavemaster of all is the cacophony of habitual thoughts which run like background music in our minds. Whether we are enslaved or the masters of our fate, either way we have become so because of the choices we have made. The entire mosaic of a life is painted with the palate of the choices made in directing that life. Even the decision to not make any choices at all and live one's life by default is, itself, a choice."
Raji did not speak. Nor did his face betray any indication of his reaction to Susan's words. He allowed both her and Nicole to contemplate those concepts without offering any feedback.
Susan smiled wryly. “I see where Father Angelino learned his ‘I'll-be-damned-if-I'm-gonna-give-you-a-hint’ technique from."
Raji allowed himself a smile at that and said, “In the end, Susan, the answers are within you. Even if you elicit agreement from others, it only makes you lazy about discovering your own answers. Too often the mere agreement of another is all that is required for one to stop examining a thought any further, and tends to make one draw conclusions too early. A conclusion is often just the place where you stopped thinking."
Raji let that sink in for a few moments before saying, “Come. That is enough for now. Let us get something to eat."
* * * *
FULL DARKNESS HAD finally fallen over the countryside.
"Billy, you come with me,” Angelino ordered. “The rest of you stay here. If you hear anybody coming, scatter."
Angelino led Billy through the underbrush into a clearing that separated the temple from the rest of the forest. They could see lights through the windows. Candlelight. This Buddhist order was one that adhered to a stoic lifestyle without the frills of modern conveniences. In this portion of the country there weren't many conveniences available, however.
"Quon Lee is supposed to meet us back there,” Angelino whispered to Billy, pointing to a section of thick vegetation toward the far corner of the building. Up close, the temple was much larger than it appeared from the distance.
"Angelino?” Billy asked. “Why all the cloak and dagger? Can't we just walk in, get him, and disappear?"
"Quon Lee is from a very important family—one that has been outspoken against the current government. The only reason they have been allowed to survive is because the family is old and venerated by the people. Even this government can't afford to ignore long-standing traditions like that. If Quon Lee simply disappears, there is no embarrassment to the government. It's a manageable ‘news event.’ But if he publicly or in view of witnesses joins with us, it will give the government an excuse to persecute his family as ‘enemies of the people,’ or some such nonsense."
"I see,” Billy said.
"There,” Billy pointed. “A figure just darted into the brush."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. Right over there.” Billy pointed.
"Ok. Let's take it slow and quiet."
They walked as quietly as they could along the periphery of the clearing until they came to the spot Billy had seen the figure dart into.
Angelino called out in a loud whisper, “Quon Lee, is that you? It's me, Angelino."
No response. They were suddenly startled by a voice from behind them.
"Father Angelino. I thank you for your care and discretion."
Angelino and Billy whirled around quickly and in the shadow of darkness saw a robed figure about five-and-a-half feet tall. The man appeared to be in his late thirties. He bore the kindly countenance associated with those who were disciples of Eastern philosophies.
"I am Quon Lee."
"I am Angelino and this is Billy Red Deer."
"I am pleased to meet you both.” Quon Lee smiled.
"I don't mean to be rude, Master Lee,” Angelino said, “but I think it would be wise for us to leave as quickly as possible. The rest are waiting for us a couple hundred yards from here. I trust you have created a plausible explanation for your disappearance."
"Yes,” Quon Lee responded. “I am going on a short personal retreat. An explanation that has the virtue of being more or less true."
Soon, they joined the others. Angelino gathered them together and quick introductions were made.
"Our next stop is Kyoto, gentlemen.” With that, they disappeared within a blaze of bright light.
* * * *
ASSAHD RAMASSI PAUSED outside the Oval Office door and took a deep breath before he was admitted by Harvey Thatcher. The summons had arrived quite unexpectedly with an urgency that alerted him something was amiss.
"Ambassador, thank you for coming. I apologize for the suddenness of the call, but we have a situation here which involves your country. We felt it was our duty to make you aware of certain facts."
He turned to acknowledge Jesus, who was standing at his side. “This is Jesus, Ambassador. Jesus, this is Assahd Ramassi, the ambassador from Syria.” Jesus nodded without smiling.
"So, this is Jesus,” Ramassi said, with just the barest trace of awe in his voice. “I am honored to meet you."
"We will not waste your time Mr. Ambassador,” Jesus said. “We have evidence Israel is amassing its forces to attack your country."
Ramassi involuntarily sat down, but managed to retain his composure.
"What evidence do you have of this, if I may ask?” he forced himself to say through a dry mouth.
"This.” Jesus handed him a folder with the altered satellite photos. “You can see the clear mobilization along your common border."
The ambassador studied the photos gravely for a few moments before responding. “Mr. President, these photos are very disturbing,” Ramassi said gravely. “May I ask how long you have known of this?"
"Mr. Ambassador, we just discovered this yesterday. I have spoken to Ambassador Gerash and he assured me he had no knowledge of these military movements."
"Do you believe him, Mr. President?"
"Yes. I believe he was truthful."
Ramassi nodded. One of the most frustrating things ambassadors had to face was that they were often kept in the dark about things their country's leaders did not want known. The reasons were twofold and sensible. It did not put their ambassadors in the position of having to lie and it ensured a certain level of secrecy when it was required or desired.
"Israel is your ally, Mr. President. Why are you sharing this information with me?"
"I will be frank with you, Mr. Ambassador,” Crowley said. “Israel seems to be acting on her own. There may even be a rogue element which has taken control. We simply don't have enough information at this time. This is being done without our knowledge and most certainly without our blessing. All we know with certainty at the moment is she is mobilizing along your border, as well as along the borders of Lebanon and Jordan."
"I see,” was all Ramassi could manage to respond. He did not know what to make of this. Israel had never attacked another country without provocation. His country and Israel had coexisted in a state of peace for close to twenty years. A habit of peace had developed even though neither nation fully trusted the other.
"Mr. Ambassador,” Jesus spoke up. “I know the history of your people and mine
has often been fraught with difficulty and strife. I assure you we are committed to preventing an Israeli attack upon your people."
Ramassi considered this for a moment and responded, “Do not get me wrong, Jesus. I appreciate your intentions and I believe them to be sincere, but I am doubtful you can stop Israel if she is intent upon aggression."
Jesus smiled at the ambassador and said, “We shall see."
"I must call my government. No doubt they have just gotten a look at their own satellite photos and they will need to know where America stands in all of this.” He peered over his glasses at Crowley, his eyes demanding a specific answer to his implied question.
"America stands with justice, Mr. Ambassador. She will not tolerate this kind of unilateral aggression.” His eyes met Ramassi's. The Syrian studied them for a moment. Crowley's reputation as a prevaricator made the ambassador's skepticism deeper than it might otherwise have been. He decided in this case, the President was being truthful.
Crowley then added, “Of course, you must understand our support of Syria depends on there being no provocation by your country. If we should discover otherwise, we will have to reassess that support."
"Of course, Mr. President. You will not find any provocation by my government, I can assure you."
Jesus studied him intently and said, “Let's hope so, Mr. Ambassador."
Ramassi glared back at him, but decided against combativeness. “Good day, Mr. President. Jesus,” he said formally. Then he exited the Oval office.
Once the ambassador was gone, Crowley said to Jesus and Thatcher, “What do you think?"
"I think he's scared shitless, Mr. President,” Thatcher said. “Syria does not want a war. They have only just now gotten to the point where they have recovered from the last one."
"He was telling the truth about not having provoked Israel. He was legitimately shocked,” Jesus added. “His country may not want war, but if they are forced to fight one, they will fight with resolve. They will have righteous indignation to motivate them ... and the treachery of Israel."
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