by JB Penrose
“Yes, coffee!” Rachel leaned forward to pour herself a cup. “Thank you.” The aroma immediately reminded her of moments shared with Peter; everything would remind her of Peter. She held the cup with both hands and inhaled deeply. Peter will be here soon, she thought. “I really don’t need to see the Master Healer.”
“Here I am now.” He rushed into the room. His robes flowed behind him like the wind and he bowed repeatedly to the Septorian, the Spokesmon, and then to the old woman on the divan next to her. He approached Mother Star with a reverence Rachel found curious. “Thank you, Mother Star. I was going to suggest some tea.”
“Coffee,” Mother Star commented absently and continued to sip hers.
“I apologize for my intrusion. I’m—“
“Aaron.” Rachel stood to greet him in the Delphi custom that now seemed so familiar to her. She folded her hands over her heart and bowed slightly. The knowledge of names was something of a surprise even to her but she liked the way it kept Iscar off guard.
“Yes, Shalom.” He bowed deeply. “I’m the Master Healer, although many others in Delphi have similar talents,” he nodded toward Mother Star. “I thought you might need some assistance.”
“Obviously the Spokesmon doesn’t need any assistance.” Iscar’s voice had an edge to it and he stepped forward to cut off the Master Healers approach.
Aaron nodded. “Of course,” he agreed. “We’ve waited a long time to welcome you home, Spokesmon.”
“Thank you,” Rachel said. “I’m fine, really. It’s been a long day. I’m sorry to disappoint everyone like that.”
It was refreshing for Rachel not to shield against the thoughts and emotions of those in the room. She’d spent centuries trying to block out the feelings of every friend and stranger she encountered. In Delphi, Rachel felt a calmness settling over her.
“There’s no disappointment among us,” the Master Healer nodded, “but fainting can be an indication of other things. Are you sure I can’t be of service?”
“At the moment, it’s only an indication of just how hectic my last few days have been. I’m terribly sorry to give you concern. You’ll tell them all I’m fine, won’t you?” Rachel’s smile was all it took to win his support. His eyes met hers and Rachel immediately felt his wave of relief.
“Of course, Spokesmon,” Aaron nodded. “Everyone will be glad to hear it.”
Footsteps echoed in the hall and a small group of onlookers stumbled over each other at the doorway. Iscar halted their entry with his hand up, but he could not stop their enquiring eyes from peering across the threshold.
Iscar’s stance shifted left to right and back. “I think we should let the Spokesmon settle in.” He walked to the doorway, partially to draw those in the room outside and partially to keep the onlookers from pushing each other into the room.
“I hope you’ll excuse me. There are some things I should attend to,” Iscar told Rachel. “Is there anything you need?”
“Not at all.” Rachel was almost relieved he wanted to leave. “I’m sure everything has been taken care of.”
“I’ll return later to check on you, in case you have any questions,” Aaron said. He offered Mother Star a hand-up from the sofa.
“No thanks, Aaron.” She poured more coffee into her cup and leaned back casually. “I think I’ll stick around and maybe answer a few of the Spokesmon’s questions.”
“Spokesmon. Mother Star.” Aaron bowed slightly and joined Iscar at the door. “Septorian.” He excused himself from the room and drew the crowd back into the hall.
Iscar and Mother Star exchanged a long silent look; his was inquiring, hers was non-committal. Rachel saw the resigned shake of his head before he looked her way. “Welcome home, Spokesmon,” he told Rachel and closed the door.
“He’s so dramatic,” Mother Star dismissed him with a wave. “But he’s right. Welcome home, dear.”
“I’m not sure I understand Iscar.” Rachel admitted.
“Poor Iscar! Judas Iscariot has been greatly misunderstood in history.”
“You know about his past?”
“Of course!” she answered calmly. “I know everything about him. After centuries of being persecuted everywhere he went, he followed his dreams to find this mountain.” She set her cup down and motioned around.
“Building Delphi was almost as much therapy for Iscar as it is a home for the Spokesmon,” the old woman explained. “He’s done a glorious job; Delphi is a very special place and filled with very special people.”
“Obviously,” Rachel agreed. “It’s the worlds best kept secret. But, why? What’s all of this for?”
“It’s your home! Don’t you remember?” Mother Star studied her curiously.
“Remember what?” Rachel asked. “I’ve never even heard of Delphi before today.”
“Delphians are a well-trained group of humans on Earth, and you can trust them completely. They completely trust you.” She spoke slowly, each word a deliberate choice. “Delphi is dedicated to the assistance of the Spokesmon; anything you want, everything you need.”
“I’m not sure of what I want,” Rachel admitted. “Nor do I understand what I’m supposed to do.”
“You don’t - remember? Didn’t Reider give you the Words of Thunder before he launched?”
“Yes, but I didn’t have the chance to read it before Iscar brought me here.”
“Well then get it out, girl. We’ve got some reading to do!”
“But I don’t have it with me.” Rachel was embarrassed to admit, “Peter has it in his bag.”
“Zallo’s Bain! I knew there would be a price to pay for Iscar’s interference.” Mother Star stood suddenly, and began to pace, “but I wasn’t counting on this!”
“Obviously, I wasn’t counting on any of this, either,” Rachel added. “But you can still answer some questions for me.” Rachel was sure Mother Star knew more about Rachel than she knew about herself. “Like who are you, really?”
“Everything’s skewed just a bit,” the old woman muttered to herself. “And I’m not supposed to interfere.”
Rachel stood. “Interfere with what?”
“Unfortunately, I can’t tell you that.” Mother Star finally stopped pacing. Her eyes locked to Rachel’s, searching for clues, pleading for recognition.
Rachel felt like she should know her. “Who are you?” she asked again. “Telling me that can’t be interference.”
Mother Star stood up suddenly. “I’ve got to go.”
“You were going to stay and give me some answers.”
“Yes, but that’s when I thought you knew the questions,” Mother Star replied as she disappeared.
Mother Star’s exit wasn’t the usual technology of regeneration. With a look of determination and distraction, Mother Star vaporized into crystallized droplets that rang in chimes when they dropped to the floor and disappeared.
And there went all my answers, again, Rachel thought.
* * *
Peter turned off the car and tried to imagine what he would tell Rachel’s parents. The late afternoon weather was as dreary as his attitude. The DayStar burned through the clouds, never challenged by time of day or type of atmosphere. It felt like a constant reminder of the Aurora’s mission, but that’s not what concerned Peter at the moment.
Their hoverjet landed less than an hour ago at PROBE-Tech’s airfield and although he was thankful for the privileged access through the private research facility, it felt empty now that John and the crew had launched on the Aurora.
Peter was in no mood to return to the cabin where he and Rachel shared a few precious hours, and he was less inclined to take Gabriel there with him; not that bringing Gabriel to her parent’s doorstep was any easier.
The PriMajor sat quietly awaiting his instructions. It would have been easier to hate Gabriel than to accept his cooperation, but Peter couldn’t do that either. He got out of the car slowly, indicating with a slight gesture that his passenger should follow.
T
he cold wind slapped him back to reality as he walked up the steps to the door and knocked. The brownstone belonged to Gail, but she had launched with the Aurora and graciously surrendered the apartment to Mags and James. That memory was another reminder of how much had happened that brought him to this moment.
The waiting seemed interminable, yet it was worse when James opened the door; the air of excitement was quickly stifled by the look on Peter’s face and the stranger who stood behind him.
“Peter?” he said awkwardly. “Glad to see you back.” There was a tone of question in his voice but he stepped aside to let them enter; Gabriel followed Peter like a giant shadow.
Gail’s apartment had changed from a lived-in mess to a moved-in look, with a feeling of home as only Mags could accomplish. The mish-mash of holiday decorations that dominated the room during Peter and Rachel’s visit just last week had been completely removed. A small altar was set in a corner of the room with a burning candle illuminating a portrait of Jesus that Peter had painted many centuries ago. It hung on the wall alongside a drawing of the Orygin’s crew. Seeing Iscar with the full crew put another stab in Peter’s heart.
The other photos were mostly students from the Dalyn School, but there was a large picture of him and Rachel from their wedding. He would have to ask James for a copy, later; it’s not what he came to tell them today. That news was even harder to voice.
Mags came out of the kitchen wiping her hands on an apron draped over her desert robe. There was a scent in the air of something she’d baked earlier. The anticipation melted away quickly after seeing the look on Peter’s face. Her hands gripped the towel, anxious for news.
It was a different world now that Peter was in the same room with her parents. He sank deeply into the closest chair. Had it only been a week since Gail helped them escape Morrow’s security team during their errand to the White House?
Gabriel remained standing in a watchful but patient way. When Gail’s cat, Honey, brushed affectionately against his leg, he scratched between her ears and she jumped into his arms at the hint of an invitation.
James led Mags to the couch and anxiously watched Peter for a sign. After a long moment of silence, James finally had to ask about his daughter. “Where’s Rachel?”
Peter’s face fell into his hands and he wondered if he could even speak. He didn’t know how to explain what had happened; it wasn’t supposed to happen. Peter could only shake his head. “I can’t believe I let it happen.”
“What happened? Where’s Rachel?” James asked again.
“Iscar kidnapped her,” Peter managed a hoarse reply.
“Iscar?” Her father’s voice rose in concern.
“Kidnapped?” Her mother’s voice dropped in defeat.
“You could not have stopped it.” The interjection of Gabriel’s voice to the conversation made everyone look up.
“Gabriel,” Peter said simply. “He works for Iscar.”
“I do not work for the Septorian, although I am the PriMajor of Delphi’s inner Seven.” His calm answer only bewildered James and Mags further. “I am here to serve the Guardian.”
“Guardian? Septorian? Delphi?” James stood, not hiding his irritation. “What is he talking about? Why is he here?”
“I’m the Guardian, apparently.” Peter sighed and motioned James to sit again. “Iscar is the Septorian, and Delphi is the hidden city he has built for Rachel – the Spokesmon.” He thumbed to Gabriel over his shoulder without turning around. “Gabriel is going to help me find Rachel, aren’t you?”
“Whatever you require,” the PriMajor answered formally.
“Let’s get going then,” James was on his feet again with Mags beside him. Both had a determined look in their eyes. “Where is this city you’re talking about?”
“Have a seat,” Peter told them with some reluctance. “We can’t go chasing her without a plan. And there are a few other things we need to consider.”
“But Iscar has her!” Mags cried. “Our worst nightmare has come true!”
“I don’t think she’s in any danger; Gabriel assures me that much. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to get there as soon as possible.”
A deep sigh escaped and Peter tried to shake off the feeling of helplessness. He knew, as the Spokesmon Rachel was clearly capable of taking care of herself. He had even considered that Delphi might be where she needed to be. He was just as sure he needed to be there, too.
“These are the Spokesmon’s parents,” Peter motioned. “Mag’Dalyn and James Zebede.”
Gabriel gave the Delphi salute. “My honor, truly. We thought you had also launched on the Aurora.”
“We?” Mags could barely choke out the question.
“All of Delphi anticipated the Spokesmon’s arrival at the Aurora’s launch.”
“I can see we have a lot to catch up on,” James said, trying to be patient. “Would you please sit and tell us more about this city of yours and whatever it is that Iscar, or the Septorian,” he choked on the title, “has in store for our daughter.”
“Peter? Can you hear her through the roleau?” Mags was anxious for some assurance and crestfallen when Peter shook his head.
“It’s been quiet,” he admitted sadly. “I don’t hear anything from the crew, either.”
Peter sat in silence as James and Mags grilled Gabriel with questions, which he answered patiently and as far as Peter could tell, truthfully. It was a relief to believe the PriMajor would withhold nothing if requested; it helped Peter trust him a bit more.
“You thought we launched with the Aurora,” Mags wondered. “Does that mean you have been watching us at the school?”
Gabriel dropped his head knowing they wouldn’t like his answer. “Reider and Pierzon were easy to follow through the amount of press they received. But we have only learned of your whereabouts recently. A graduate of your school, Aaron Timneuccia, was the last to arrive in Delphi. He never divulged the location, but the Septorian was positive you were the missing crew members after hearing his story.”
“Aaron?” Both James and Mags covered their mouth in horror. “Preposterous! Aaron would never betray the school.”
“I beg you not to think of it as betrayal. Delphi is a very special place. He was chosen to join us and his contributions are most valuable.”
“I’m sure Iscar considers him a most valuable contribution; Iscar would use his own angels to benefit himself.”
“I think you misunderstand. Our citizens are chosen by the Oracle and led to the mountain through their dreams. Only the most dedicated arrive, and no one has ever wanted to leave or been forced to stay.”
“You make Delphi out to be a very special place,” James admitted sadly, “but I don’t think you know Iscar as we do.”
“My pardon,” Gabriel nodded, “but maybe you don’t understand the Septorian as we do. Septorian is only his title. He does not rule us – the Oracle does. And it speaks to us through our hearts, which is why I am here today.”
“The Oracle instructed him to help me,” Peter clarified.
“Yes,” Gabriel nodded toward Peter’s valise that carried the near-completed roleau. “No one, including myself, has known that there are two oracles.”
“Except Iscar,” James reminded him. “And truthfully, if you count his as one then there would be six oracles. Would you also think there were six Guardians?” he wanted to know.
Gabriel thought for a moment. “I don’t think so. The voice of this Oracle is more powerful, closer to me than any other communication I’ve had. It must be the combination of all of them that has also created the Guardian for itself.” Gabriel shrugged. “The Oracle reveals or hides information as it best sees fit.”
“And the Spokesmon – the title you use to describe our daughter,” Mags pressed him further, “just what is it you expect her to accomplish?”
“She will bring forth the Awakening. I know not how it is to happen but I assure you we will give her our unconditional support, and that is sizeab
le. Delphi is legions strong both within and outside the city.”
“He also tells me that each of them possess a different psi-talent,” Peter tried to hide his sarcasm, “to assist the Spokesmon in any way necessary.”
“It seems impossible that Iscar could have created something this evolved, or anything as selfless as you have described,” James resisted the possibility. “If everyone in Delphi has some kind of psi-talent then just what would your special power be?”
“I have a twin, and our telepathy is quite strong.”
“I don’t feel any telepathy emitting from you,” Mags questioned. “But I do feel your shielding.”
“Of course,” Gabriel bowed slightly. “Our training is unconventional but quite specific. I would never intrude on your thoughts.”
“I’ve dealt with telepathy before,” Mags admitted. “I can also shield against your thoughts. But I sense there’s something else you’re not telling us.”
Peter was glad Mags questioned Gabriel thoroughly; he had also sensed a second talent and didn’t know how to expose it. If they were going to travel together, Peter would have wanted to know just what to prepare for along the way.
“I don’t think of it as a power but I suppose other’s might,” Gabriel spoke humbly. “We tend to think of them more as talents because they are specifically developed according to what we do best and in my case, I dream-walk.”
“Dream-walk?” The skepticism rang sharply in James’ voice.
“I can enter into another’s dream and interact with them.”
“For what purpose?”
“Usually to understand their position – to find something, or gain awareness of an action that would benefit Delphi or one of its citizens.”
“So, you use this talent to accomplish your own desire?” Mags shook her head at the simplicity of his explanation. “And you don’t see a problem with that?”
“Always to the benefit of Delphi or the Spokesmon; never for personal gain,” Gabriel assured her. “And I don’t chose the participant; the Oracle sends me. I don’t know my purpose until I’m there and I let the Oracle chose my words.”