"I'd better get back to the newsroom, Arnold,” Ray said. “This could be pretty big."
"Do you mind if I tag along?"
"Sure. Come on. Let's go."
* * * *
PRIME MINISTER ISHMAEL Sahrat opened the brown envelope handed to him by the military courier. With Sahrat were General Gershan Joseph, Commander of the Army; and General Moshe Aman, Commander of the Air Force. Sahrat dumped the contents of the envelope on the large table around which they sat. The contents were two dozen satellite photos of the Syrian-Israeli border. He picked up a handful of the photos and studied them with a magnifying glass for a few moments, his face betraying no emotion. When he was finished, he handed the glass and the photos to General Joseph.
"Well, there you have it."
Joseph studied the photos gravely. “Their troops should be in position within twenty-four hours, Mr. Prime Minister."
Sahrat nodded his understanding.
"Mr. Prime Minister...” General Aman began.
"Yes,” Sahrat finished his thought, “I know. We have no choice but to deploy our troops now."
The three men exchanged glances, fully aware of the gravity of the decision they were making. The rest of the world would not consider the finer point that the Israeli action was in response to the Syrian deployments, which themselves were a response to a false belief of Israeli deployments. All that would be reported was that satellite photos had revealed Israeli troop movements along the Syrian border and the troops were there.
"Gentlemen,” Sahrat said with sadness. “I cannot shake the ominous feeling we will not be able to control these events. Less than twenty-four hours ago, we were at peace. Now, suddenly, troops from both armies are hurrying to their borders. To what end?"
"To what end are troops usually brought into play, Mr. Prime Minister?” General Joseph asked, rhetorically.
"I feel we are being manipulated somehow ... both us and the Syrians. We are both imprisoned by our distrust for one another, all too quick to believe the worst of each other. I fear we are about to pay for that distrust."
The Prime Minister looked over the photos again. He pointed to the northeastern corner of the country.
"I see another danger here, General Joseph. We border Syria and Lebanon in that section. Lebanon is not likely to sit on her hands while we and Syria commit troops. She will be forced to deploy her own troops along her southern and southeast borders, which will in turn force us to place troops along our northern border as well. We will have three armies facing off against each other in that one corner."
"Yes, you are right, Mr. Prime Minister,” General Joseph agreed.
"While we are thus occupied, I cannot imagine Jordan and Saudi Arabia will remain passive, unless the Americans can convince them to."
Sahrat removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes wearily. How long must his people live like this, always on the brink of war or just one troop deployment away from it? How long could this continue before frayed nerves on one side or the other caused the ultimate mistake that would launch the entire Mideast into a cataclysmic war? No one who lived under this umbrella of tension doubted such a mistake was inevitable. Many thought they were already living on borrowed time, and had been for many years.
"Shall I issue the order, Mr. Prime Minister?” General Joseph asked.
Sahrat stared down at the satellite photos for an interminable time. He finally raised his eyes to meet those of his army commander and nodded his head.
"May God protect us,” he whispered.
* * * *
"WHAT IS POWER, Susan?” Raji asked abruptly.
Susan blinked, unprepared for the question. Just a moment ago, Raji had been guiding them through yet another meditation drill as she had begun to think of the exercises of directed vision, and suddenly, out of the blue, came the question.
"Susan, you must not hesitate, ever. Hesitation means you are not coming from your essence. One who knows, acts without thinking. When one is attuned to the Higher Self, their actions and thoughts operate in perfect alignment. What is power?"
She again hesitated.
"What is power?” Raji said forcefully.
Susan could only stare lamely into the hard gaze of Raji who finally lowered his eyes and sighed softly, clearly disappointed. That gesture cut deeply into her heart. The strain was taking its toll on her. She was supposedly important to a larger purpose, and yet she did not know what her role was. She was not The Christ and she was not a Knight of the Ascension. What then was she? If it was necessary for her to absorb all Raji was throwing at her, her failure to do so had deeper ramifications than just personal disappointment. If she had a critical role to play in all Angelino had mapped out, and if she did not succeed, the entire plan would crumble. What that would mean was still not entirely clear to her. She only knew she could not fail. Yet she seemed to be doing nothing else.
Nicole, seeing her distress, came over and put her arm around Susan to comfort her. Raji said sharply, “Nicole, do not interfere.” Nicole jolted, shocked by the intensity of her teacher.
"I was just...” she started to say before being cut off by Raji.
"She does not need your comfort, Nicole. She needs to answer the question. Susan, what is power?"
Susan felt blood pulse in her head. She began to feel dizzy and disoriented. What does he want me to say?
"Do not hunt for the ‘right’ answer, Susan. Your purpose is not to please me or impress me with your wit and intellect,” he barked sternly. Again he repeated, louder this time, “What is power?"
She could not answer. Her mind was blank and her heart pounded harder.
"What is power?"
Anger began to swell up within Susan. “Stop it!"
"What is power?” he yelled.
"Please stop!” she screamed angrily.
"WHAT IS POWER?"
Without thinking, Susan extended her right hand toward Raji. With that gesture, Raji went hurtling backward, slamming hard into the stone wall circling the courtyard.
"Master Raji!” Nicole yelled out, as she ran to see if he had been hurt.
Susan stood frozen, her arm still extended, her face filled with horror. What had she done? And how had she done it?
Raji slowly rose to his feet, shaken but apparently not harmed. He shook his head as if to clear it then stood upright and walked toward Susan. He was smiling.
"Master Raji. Forgive me. I did not mean to..."
"Susan,” he interrupted firmly. “You meant every bit to do what you did."
She started to protest but the Master stopped her short.
"That is power, Susan ... manifesting that which you desire."
Susan slowly dropped her arm and lowered her head in shame. Was that possible? Had she meant to harm Raji? At that precise moment she had wanted to stop the badgering any way she could. She had done so, but had nearly hurt the old man and might have even killed him in the process. Then she realized her reaction was precisely what Raji was attempting to elicit. He had goaded her deliberately in order to force her to manifest the answer to the very question she was avoiding. She moved slowly over to the edge of the pond in the center of the courtyard, and sat down, clearly shaken.
Raji moved to her side and placed his hand on her shoulders and said gently, “It is OK. I am not hurt."
She could not lift her face to meet his eyes.
"How could I have done something so violent?” she asked, bewildered. “I could have killed you."
Raji nodded. “Yes, you could have. But you didn't."
"I ... I was so angry. I just wanted you to stop. I did not mean to harm you, truly I didn't.” Her voice choked with emotion.
"Do you understand what just happened here, Susan?” he asked gently.
She shook her head without saying anything. Raji sat down beside her.
"You discovered a basic truth. You became one with your desire, became the very desire itself. Then you manifested that desire by pushing me across the c
ourtyard. You did not think about it, you did not try to figure out how to do it, you just did it. That is power. Your only thought was to stop me from, as you put it, badgering you. You accomplished that. Now we must work on control."
Still unable to face him directly, she said, “But I could not control it. How can I control it if I do not think about what I am doing."
Raji smiled. “You flirt with yet another great truth."
She finally lifted her eyes to meet his, her face bearing a quizzical expression. “What truth?"
"Power, in and of itself, is neutral.” He waved his hand casually in the air. When the motion was completed, a small flame was burning magically in his palm.
"Is fire evil or noble? It is neither. It simply is a force which can be harnessed for benefit or for ill. The power itself can never be evil, nor can it be good. The power we manifest will bear the fingerprint of who and what we are."
He covered the flame with his other hand, snuffing it out. His hand was totally unharmed.
"If our heart is pure,” he continued, ignoring the awe on the faces of Susan and Nicole, “our power will naturally be exercised for the betterment of all with whom we come in contact. If our heart is filled with envy, hatred, greed, or malevolent intent, our power will reflect that as well. But the power itself is simply what it is. Do you understand?"
"I'm not sure."
He bent down, picked up a small stone and dropped it into the pond.
"Notice how the ripples spread out equally in all directions. Once set in motion, they move on their own and will continue unless stopped or diverted by another opposing force. Notice how the pattern changes as the ripples roll across that large rock protruding from the water over there. Also notice how the leaf resting on the surface of the water bobs up and down with the rhythm of the rippling waves. All of that stemming from the simple act of dropping a stone into a quiet pond.
"Now watch what happens when I drop in a second stone. Notice how the ripples created by the second stone overlap and change the pattern of the first. The world in which we live, move, and have our being is filled with ripples created by the thoughts and corresponding actions of all of us, intertwining in a matrix of interaction, each affecting the others in subtle and often unseen ways.
"Of course, the ripples of human thought are less simple than the symmetric concentric ripples I just created in the pond. Each of us sends out ripples of energy which bear our own distinctive identity. Our character determines the nature of the energy we put forth.
"Now watch what happens to the ripples in the water as they reach the edge of the pond. Notice how they bounce back and return in the same direction from which they came.
"Like the ripples on the water, our thoughts and actions return to us exactly as we send them out. If we have sent out ripples of kindness, the same returns to us. If we send out ripples of anger and hatred, the same returns to us. All of this happens long after the original thought which initiated the pattern has been forgotten. The nature of things is what we create in the world is that which we will experience. The world is constructed according to the design of our own very thoughts."
Raji allowed the lesson to be absorbed by a thoughtful Susan. After a few minutes, he continued.
"What was the central message of Jesus, Susan?"
Susan considered that for a moment. “That we should all treat others as we wish to be treated ourselves."
Raji nodded. “Yes, that was one of his messages, but there was a message even more central and fundamental than that."
It was Nicole who spoke next. “Love,” she said softly.
Raji beamed with delight.
"Exactly!” he said happily, clapping his hands together.
"Jesus brought the message of love to the world because he understood, like no one before him, what we give out, we get back. ‘So as you do, shall it be done unto you,’ was his more colorful way of phrasing it.
"Since we think, whether we like it or not, and because we will always act in accordance with our thought, he taught that for us to create the life we desire, we must put forth the thoughts and actions which we want to be returned to us. He knew this to be a law as immutable as any law of the physical world. He reasoned with simple common sense that it was necessary for us to mold the thoughts we created according to a framework of a higher motivation, hence the message to cultivate love above all other things. Jesus understood when our hearts were filled with nothing but love, then all of our thoughts would be filled with love and therefore all our actions will reflect love. From there it follows only love could be returned to us.
"Indeed, this was the Key to Heaven he spoke of. Jesus taught Heaven was not located in some distant place to which we were transported in some vaguely defined after-life. He demonstrated Heaven was ours here and now, and could be attained by us by one simple act—love.
"Imagine a life lived in which one's every thought and deed were enshrouded in love, in which all one did was approach the world with love. Under the law, what would the life of such a person be, if not Heaven? Likewise, one whose mind wallows in hatred and fear and anger will find returned to him what could only be described as Hell. Thus Heaven or Hell are choices which we all make by the thoughts we habitually hold in our minds."
Raji stopped. Both Nicole and Susan were listening with rapt attention. He could see they understood. He hoped they understood it deeply enough. There was not much time left for him to teach them.
* * * *
POPE TIMOTHY HAD discovered that of all the associates of Angelino, Monsignor Cassidy was the one with whom he felt most comfortable. There was something almost earthy about the former law professor's demeanor, which MacArthur found to be a welcome counterpoint to what he still considered to be Angelino's arrogant presumptuousness. Cassidy liked to grumble about the physical hardships of their journeys, but MacArthur, like the others, saw that was just his way. There was no place else in the world Monsignor Raul Cassidy would rather have been.
They had materialized in the countryside just outside of Tver, a small city just to the north of Moscow. There were two more priests to gather and then ... what? Whatever his old friend had up his sleeve, he did not seem inclined to talk about it.
The cold Russian air cut through MacArthur's clothing. He wore a heavy jacket, as they all did—Angelino always seemed to have what they needed when they needed it, he noted with puzzlement—but it was of little help against the late afternoon cold. MacArthur wondered if there were ever a time in this country when it warmed up.
Angelino was leading them into the small city. MacArthur strode up alongside Monsignor Cassidy.
"Do you have any idea what all of this is about, Monsignor?” he asked.
"You mean being here in Russia, Your Eminence?” Cassidy replied.
"No. I mean this Twelve Knights business. Do you have any idea what happens when all of you are assembled together? And please, call me ‘Gregory’”
Cassidy smiled. “As you wish ... Gregory.” They walked a few more steps and he said, “To answer your question, no, none of us know more than our small piece of the puzzle."
"Yet you follow Angelino wherever he leads you."
Cassidy nodded. “You don't like Angelino much, do you?"
Cassidy's directness startled MacArthur. Was it that apparent? “Let's just say Anthony and I have a bit of a history together, not all of it pleasant."
"And not all of it unpleasant, either, I imagine,” Cassidy seemed to understand without saying as much. “You know, he's really a good man."
MacArthur sighed. “Yes, I suppose he is. You must forgive me, Monsignor. I'm still sort of feeling my way through all of this."
Cassidy laughed lightly. “Aren't we all?"
"Why do you follow Angelino so blindly, not knowing the final outcome of all this?"
"Why did you follow your calling so blindly, not knowing its final outcome?” Cassidy countered.
MacArthur smiled wryly. “That's my point. My b
lind faith proved to be misguided. I wasted a lifetime in blind obedience to a lie. How can you be sure you aren't doing the same thing?"
They walked a bit further before Cassidy answered him. “Let me ask you something, Gregory. Did you ever feel a sense of joy in what you were doing? All those years you maneuvered and plotted and schemed, did you feel a great love for what you were doing?"
"It wasn't about loving what I did, Monsignor. It was about doing what was necessary for the greater purpose. Not that much different than what you are doing, when you stop and think about it."
"Perhaps. Except for one thing ... we all do what we do for love. The greater purpose for which all of us work is the cause of love. That is no small difference."
"I'm afraid I don't see a significant difference. You follow love blindly, while I followed the church blindly. In either case, it was blind faith."
"Except love creates clarity of vision, not blindness."
"Does it?” MacArthur said, skeptically.
"Yes, it does."
The Pope looked around at the group. “You have quite a diverse group here. Half of you can't even speak each other's language. I fail to see what can be accomplished."
"Maybe you should ask Angelino that question."
Conversation has a way of making the distances evaporate on long treks and suddenly MacArthur realized they had reached their destination. He stopped short in disbelief. Before him stood a small wooden church, practically crumbling in a state of advanced disrepair.
Billy Red Deer leaned into Angelino's ear. “You're sure this is the right place?” Angelino nodded before speaking. His attention was focused on the ramshackle building that stood before them.
"Where's Bob Vila when you need him?” he said with a half smile.
"Who is this Bob Vila?” Quon Lee said.
"I'll explain it to you later,” Cassidy said.
Angelino walked slowly up to the door of the rickety building and pushed it open cautiously. The hinges squeaked loudly as the door slowly swung open. The floor creaked ominously beneath his feet.
"Hello? Father Popovich, are you in here?” he called out.
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