by JB Penrose
“Hi Mags. ‘Just wanted you to know we made it this far with no problems.”
“Peter? It’s good to hear your voice. You don’t sound as if there’re no problems. Are you hurt?”
He had to laugh at her intuition; nothing escaped that motherly concern. “No, I’m fine. Apparently, I ran into Iscar in something Gabriel calls The Stream of Consciousness, and it wasn’t a pleasant encounter.”
“Is Roko alright?”
Peter recalled her image standing in front of a cheering crowd of people. “She’s fine, and I’m sure of it. I believe she got the welcome Gabriel spoke of. We’re on the last leg of the trip and I wanted to call while I could. How’s it going there?”
“James thinks it’s going very well. He’s at the OneWorld Summit with President-elect Cauthron. They plan to move the event to PROBE-Tech. And Peter – Dera is the Chief of Staff!”
“Alexadera? The president’s chief of staff? That is big news. I’m surprised Andrew didn’t tell me that.”
“There seems to be quite a bit of news we’ve not been told – but so far, they’re all pleasant surprises.”
“Glad to hear it,” Peter rubbed his sore ribs. “I’d better go now. Give my love to James. I’ll be home soon with Rachel, don’t you worry.”
“It’s a mother’s job to worry, but less so with your care. Bye, Peter. Be careful, and let Gabriel take care of the Guardian.”
Peter started to protest the idea, but as Mags hung up the phone, Peter found himself massaging his ribcage. Gabriel was proving to be exactly what Peter needed.
They spent the night in a small hostel arranged by Chando in advance of their arrival. Every requirement had been provided for, and the next step of the trip would start when they flew to Sikkim. Although the weather was clear, he knew it was subject to change once they flew inside the vast Himalayan range.
Peter decided to double-wrap his ribs for some additional padding during the climb, and hoped the bruising wouldn’t slow him down.
They approached Kangchenjunga from the southwest through the Koshi River basin. Gabriel navigated the hoverjet into a tight valley and eased it gently into a glacier cavern hidden behind an iced curtain. The floor was slick when Peter dropped himself out of the cockpit. The reminder of pain he had rarely felt, was an immediate warning.
“Watch that first step,” Gabriel said, already too late.
Peter quickly grabbed the hoverjet railing to steady himself. He knew the floor would be icy but his thoughts were already on finding Rachel. The bruising would be a more constant reminder and he rubbed his ribcage, cursing Iscar – and hoped his own actions had inflicted similar pain on his old crewmate.
Gabriel took the climbing gear in his pack. “There are stops along the way already supplied with standard items – firewood and cooking pots. I’ll carry the water if you want to carry the food,” he suggested.
Peter was grateful Gabriel took the heavier gear and hoped to regain his strength in the next few days. They changed clothes and had everything repacked within a few hours.
“Let’s go,” Peter urged. “The faster we start, the sooner we arrive.”
Gabriel nodded and took the lead into the darkness. “Once we pass this initial hike the way will become more open. These obstacles have been left to deter strangers from this area.”
“Just let me know ahead of time,” Peter told him, “so I’ll know what to expect.”
“Yes, Guardian,” Gabriel promised. “I’ll be sure to do that."
* * *
Mags sat on the porch wrapped in a blanket but not truly caring about the weather. The DayStar loomed overhead, almost staring at her; at times, Mags thought it was speaking to her but it was a language she couldn’t understand, or one she just couldn’t remember.
She gave a quiet prayer for the crew of the Aurora, and continued to wonder why they had not communicated since takeoff. The world was poised on a precipice waiting for their answer as to the source, or at least the explanation of the DayStar, a mystery she also felt compelled to unravel.
She felt better after Peter’s phone call, and was somewhat reassured that Peter, at least, felt like Roko was safe. It was time for her daughter to be home, in her mother’s embrace, but Mags was just as sure that her daughter had something she needed to be doing, and Mags – like any mother, wanted to do what she could to help.
The President’s plane, with James aboard would be landing any moment. She was ready for James to be home again, even if she recognized the excitement in his eyes to be active once more in world affairs. He hadn’t traveled without her since the night Roko was taken – the first time, Mags thought ironically.
Her heart could not find peace with Roko still missing from her life. Mags felt the pain she had endured for the last 1500 years as though the separation was fresh. And there was Peter, and Gabriel, ready to climb mountains, literally, just to bring her home, again.
Mags was determined to help her daughter in every way possible. She wondered what she might have told Roko to prepare her; help her understand, but no single subject came to mind. So much of it they were learning for themselves as they were thrust along this Path of Life.
Having found her daughter once gave her the faith that Roko, or Rachel as Peter called her, would be in her arms again. Still, Mags felt something brewing in the energies of this world, but she could not comprehend how it would end; she only had to trust the right players were in action.
Unlike most people, the experiences that strengthened her faith in God were the coincidences of Life. Not that Mags believed in fate, but more so in destiny. Lucas, Hirundi, and even Dera – her world was filled with people with whom she was destined to be connected. That amount of fortune made her the luckiest woman in the world. Every coincidence was a small, or sometimes large miracle.
Mags could feel the world standing on the brink of decision; decisions about the DayStar, decisions about the release of technology, and decisions about how the world wanted, or needed, to act as OneWorld.
She recalled the prophecy Gabriel told them:
When history returns to the Beginning, the Beginning turns into history; when the Spokesmon returns to the Source, the world returns to God.
Return to God! It was time for that to happen, Mags thought. It’s difficult to explain being immortal until you live it – and keep living it. The Orygin’s crew hardly realized that no one else lived as they did, until everyone they knew had grown old and died. Then, fear – again, drove them away from any home they tried to build, fear they were not like others; and sometimes, fear that they were.
Mags felt the pressure again, of trying to recall a past dream, a fleeting feeling of something almost remembered but completely forgotten. She knew, whatever it was, was something she needed to tell Roko.
Then of course, there were the memories she could not forget and still could not share. Secrets she had tucked away until they burst forth in their own time, as secrets always do.
“There you are!” The sound of James’ voice startled her. She turned as he leaned in to kiss her, her heart racing. “This was my second choice of where to find you.”
“Oh? And where did you look first?”
“The kitchen, of course!” His embrace was solid; his cheeks were still cold from the weather outside, but the twinkle in his eyes was an expression of excitement. She had seen that look before.
“I guess you thought the trip was a success,” she patted a place beside her and James sat. She wrapped him in the blanket she used. “Give me the highlights.”
“First,” he kissed her again, “thank you for taking care of the press release and announcing how I,” he cocked his head slightly, “we, are assuming leadership of PROBE-Tech. That happened at exactly the right moment.”
“Of course,” she agreed modestly. “It’s been a long time since I could give myself credit for leadership – so becoming president of PROBE-Tech was kind of a promotion for me.”
“Well deserved, Madam
President!” James gave her an excited hug. “We will work wonders together!”
“You have certainly committed us to wonder-full things. Did you give away the farm as they say?”
“It might seem that way at first. I really understand better, what John and Andrew were doing. There is so much that we could do for this world --”
“But we’ve learned they need to do it for themselves,” Mags finished it for him.
“Yes, but they can be shown the Path, and made to think they were the one who decided to walk it,” James laughed. “They’re almost like children.”
“And you have plenty of experience with children!”
James sat back against the bench and pulled Mags into his embrace. “It’s good to be home,” he said, “and it’s good to be here.”
“I’m glad you agreed with my move to Gemini,” she said.
“Yes,” James agreed, “It’s good to be surrounded by mementos of our family and friends; of our life.” He squeezed her shoulders. “I was feeling as though we were drifting away from God. The teachings of Jesus were harder to recall and now I feel --”
“Grateful!” they said together and laughed.
“I spent some time with Lucas in the sanctuary,” she admitted quietly. “I wanted to pray for Roko’s safety. He reminded me of who she was – and that he had seen her as the Spokesmon. Victorious, is the word he used to describe her.”
“It’s odd that others know her in that way, and we only see her as our daughter.”
Mags tensed slightly.
“What is it?” James asked.
“Nothing bad,” she said. “Peter called to say he and Gabriel were at the mountain. I’m glad he’s almost there.”
Mags buried her face in his embrace. Old memories, more like dreams, had been flooding to the surface.
“Is this where to finally admit to me I’m not her father?”
“You think that?” Mags sat up and looked at him with surprise.
“I thought something,” he admitted. “None of the others had children; what could make me so special?” He took her by the shoulders. “You,” he said, “are what is special. I’ve always known that; I’ve always loved that.”
“James,” Mags lowered her gaze.
“Do you think because Jesus wasn’t of Joseph’s seed, that Joseph loved him any less? Did he believe if Jesus wasn’t his son, that he couldn’t be his father?” James kissed Mags on the forehead. “I love our daughter, and I will always be Roko’s father.”
“Of course! Because you are her father!”
“What?” James cocked his head.
“Of course you are her father,” Mags confirmed strongly. “You can’t believe I would--”
“No, no,” James stopped her from saying it. “I just thought--. You and Jesus -- that night. . .” His voice trailed off weakly.
“No,” Mags couldn’t hold back the tears. Secrets didn’t have any place in their love. “Never. I can’t believe you thought that-” she vowed earnestly.
“It’s nothing I really thought about,” he promised.
“It’s just that--” she let go of the tension pent up for centuries with a strong sigh. “There’s something I just can’t remember,” she shook her head. “Something I know I was supposed to tell Roko, but I just can’t remember what he said.”
“Jesus?” James asked her.
Mags nodded. “I have been trying to remember for centuries,” she said.
James held her close and rocked her gently. “It will come to you, dear. I promise. You will remember.”
The DayStar shown through the early sky seemingly brighter than the moon. Their research had not pinpointed a location, even with the technology at the Gemini estate, but then, neither had Andrew. Mags hoped the Aurora would have better luck trying to find it in the solar system; she wished they would send some kind of communication. The DayStar was a great mystery; one that Mags was sure contained more relevance than just being a bright object in the sky.
Even with her head down, she felt the DayStar vibrating rhythmically, much like her own heartbeat. Often, she thought she saw colors within the shining globe or heard it speaking in a language she vaguely understood. She desperately wanted to remember what it meant.
Mags felt the car came to a stop and saw Charlie’s smiling face looking through the glass. The PROBE-Tech guard was more than a sentry for the largest, most advanced technology facility in the world. She wondered if he knew he also guarded the Orygin’s history, as well as the world history that Andrew had compiled, in a computer vault operating beneath the compound.
“Hello, Ms. Dayln,” he greeted her. “How was the ride?”
“It was great! Thanks, Charlie. I got a lot of work done.”
Charlie who had suggested she take one of PROBE-Tech’s autopilot vehicles, and although initially opposed, Mags immediately discovered the benefit of not driving – getting work done in a quiet setting.
“Yes, Mr. Andrew always said the same thing,” Charlie laughed. “I hope you have great success with your meeting today. Mr. Cabelles has already arrived.”
“Thank you, Charlie. I should have known he would be early.”
“You are early as well, now, ma’am.”
She smiled and waved goodbye as the security gate opened and the vehicle proceeded on the programmed route. Mags had reviewed Charlie’s personnel file after their first encounter, and discovered he was a trusted employee since the opening of PROBE-Tech. His actual title was Security Director, and she learned Andrew relied heavily on his information as to any coming-and-going that was out of the ordinary.
“Have you always worked at the front gate?” she asked in their first encounter.
“Always!” was his quick reply. “I guess you could say I was nosy,” he added. “I like to know what’s going on.”
Per Andrew’s notes, Charlie was instrumental in keeping Frank Morrow from entering PROBE-Tech on a number of occasions, as well as getting John, Andrew, Donnally, and Gail out of the facility under Morrow’s watch. Mags was glad he was “nosy”.
The vehicle auto-parked in the designated spot at the entrance to a large hangar prepared for today’s meeting. Other delegates would park in the main lot and arrive by tram, but as PROBE-Tech’s President, she had unlimited access through all secure areas.
The weather was calm and the snow had settled throughout the compound. It was still dark, and the DayStar shone brightly overhead oblivious to the crawling route of the moon.
The trams were already moving around the buildings for other early-risers. The Christmas décor had been removed, but the iced pond was still in use by a few people getting some early morning exercise. Mags promised herself a chance to skate on the frozen pond; that was certainly something she couldn’t do at the desert school!
Today was to be the initial meeting of the “God-Group”. The name was a bit flippant but it was a reference they adopted for themselves. She had to admit a certain amount of trepidation in gathering together leaders of major religions. What could they possibly agree upon?
“Good Morning, Mother!” Neely’s quiet voice was the only sound in the empty room. He crossed quickly and offered his hand.
“Hello, Neely,” she kissed his cheek, ignoring his formality. “Thank you so much for your assistance with this conference.”
“I’m thrilled at the opportunity,” he admitted, “but I’m not sure I know why you asked for my assistance. A global meeting like this is not at all like operating a school for children. I’m don’t think I’m qualified to help with anything that might happen here.”
“Oh, you’re wrong about that!” she laughed. “It’s going to be exactly like working with children!”
Including Neely was as much a surprise to her as it was to him, and she wasn’t exactly sure how he would assist, but she usually followed her intuition.
It was comforting not to be responsible for the agenda, only the facility; Minister Horaios, from the Greek Islands had agreed t
o organize the agenda.
Mags surveyed the room. The main table was set up for the representatives and a small desk behind and off to the side for each of their assistants. Twenty-five religions had been invited to participate; the requirement being that the religion represented more than a million followers – something much harder to garner in this current era of non-belief.
Smaller, round tables had been set up in the buffet area to facilitate meals as well as private conversations. There was a picture window for sunlight should the sun even make an appearance this week, and an exit to an outdoor balcony for those who still partook in smoking rituals.
Movement was tracked visually from a sublevel of the building, and large monitors were placed around the room to reflect what the security teams watched. No personnel other than the invited “God-Group” would be in or outside the facility; PROBE-Tech was strict regarding its security.
“Minister Horaios will be here shortly,” she told Neely. “I’ll introduce you as my assistant. He will chair the meeting; you and I are here to make sure they have everything they need – I see the tablets and the voice translators are already sync’d to the system. Thank you.”
“It practically took care of itself once I turned on the transmitter,” he told her. “The PROBE-Tech staff had everything done when I came in this morning. I never imagined I would be here at all,” he admitted with excitement.
“You are the perfect assistant,” she assured him.
“Please, just tell me anything you’d like me to do for you, Mother. I am ready to serve!”
The door opened and Mags expected to see the Minister walk in, but Dera’s big smile was a welcome exchange.
“Good morning, Mother!” She crossed the room quickly and kissed Mags on the cheek. A curious side-glance to Neely reminded Mags they had not yet met.
“Good morning dear. This is Neely Cabelles,” she said. “I mentioned he’d be assisting me with this conference.”
“Yes,” she confirmed, and lowered her eyes modestly. “You mentioned him.” Extending her hand and regaining her confident composure, she smiled. “You are the Director at the Dayln School, correct?”