by Dermot Davis
"So, what's the plan?" Andrew asked. "We have the conclave raided by the police or something?"
"On what grounds?" Simon asked as if Andrew’s idea was a non-starter. "No, we hurt them where they will hurt the most, where they least expect it: in the spiritual realms."
"I like it," Fiona said, as if she understood exactly.
"Wait, are you talking like some kind of ritual magic or something?" Andrew asked like he wasn't on board.
"Isn't that exactly what a conclave is?" Simon asked between mouthfuls of the food he was totally enjoying.
"I've been organizing it but, honestly? I have no idea what it is. Looks to me like the same weekly meeting but just on a larger scale."
"Precisely," Simon agreed.
"So, again, what's the plan?" Andrew asked. "We take out those monk dudes at the back and call it off?"
"No, we replace those monk dudes at the back and turn whatever energy they were using for their benefit against them. Ka-pow! Or, as batman would say, take that, jokers!" Simon said animatedly, his uncharacteristic use of language amusing his dinner guests.
"Gee, dad. Reveal all your sub-personalities in one day, why doncha?" Fiona teased. "It's getting mighty interesting around here," she said jokingly to Andrew.
"I can see that," Andrew agreed but he wasn't sure fully exactly what Fiona was referring to. "So, replace the monk dudes with who?" Andrew asked Simon. "There's like, seven of them, right?"
"Well, first of all let's refer to them by the proper term, The Enlightened Ones," Simon began, his correction eliciting snickers from his daughter.
"The Enlightened Ones?" she asked like she found the title more than a little outrageous.
"How are we going to replace seven... Enlightened Ones and how do we even know what it is that they do sitting up there like they know the mysteries of all existence?" Andrew asked, partly knowing that he would make his girlfriend laugh, which he did.
"It's pretty simple, really," Simon said as he sipped a glass of Cabernet. "As the assembled pray, and send up their good wishes, the Enlightened Ones are trained to gather that group energy and use it to do their bidding. The people praying have no idea that their good wishes are being hijacked, really harvested, and then used for different purposes other than what they individually intended."
"Wow," Andrew said, really thrown by the terrible information that Simon was revealing. "So, when people were praying for the health of someone, it was the dudes at the top that were taking that powerful, intense energy and..." he stopped as he reflected on the dark implications of their actions, and the numerous times in the past when he had attended meetings where ritual prayer had occurred and the powerful energies directed for a dark purpose.
"Precisely," Simon said like it was the most natural thing in the world, "Welcome to the real meaning of the Order of the Wise Serpents."
"And how are we going to train anyone to do what those guys are trained to do, advanced spiritual practices and such?"
"You find me the people, I'll teach them what to do," Simon said, helping himself to another serving of salad and pasta. "Even if it's not perfect, we'll still deprive them of using those intense, powerful energies for their own nefarious purposes."
"Cool," Andrew said, like his understated remark belied how tall an order he considered it all to me.
"We can get seven people," Fiona said hopefully to her boyfriend. "We'll make some calls, don't worry," she said to her dad. "We have three people sitting at the table already, right?"
"That's my girl," Simon said as he gave an appreciative wink to his special daughter.
"Let's send those suckers to the moon!" she said as she toasted with her glass.
"To the moon!" the other two joined in as they each clinked their glasses together.
Once finally alone together, in Fiona's old bedroom, the young couple hugged and kissed and tenderly caressed each other like crazy. Andrew held Fiona in his arms, stroking her face and hair, gently kissed her lips, kissed each eyelid and whispered affirmations of love to her. The hours that went by seemed like seconds but they still didn't pause in their amorousness until their bodies finally ran out of steam and they lay on top of the bed, exhausted and falling asleep, holding each other in a tight embrace.
"So, we need four more people," Fiona said sleepily as she looked lovingly into his eyes.
"What?" he asked, his tired mind thrown by her question.
"We need four more Enlightened Ones, for the conclave," she said softly.
"Oh," he said, his brain switching gears.
"I could ask Arjuna, he'd be awesome, if he could drag himself away from the wilderness," Fiona suggested.
"Yeah, he’d be a natural and Henry would definitely want to do it, too. You didn't see him but he helped with your escape from the lab. He made a nuisance of himself, occupying the Enforcers while I rescued you," he said with a smile.
"You did rescue me," she said smiling like she was enthralled with his manliness as she played with his loose strands of hair. "Are you sure Henry would do something like this?"
"Are you kidding? Give him an opportunity to bring down the Evil Empire, he'll be the first in line, try stop him. If he has any influence with Arjuna, he could bring him along. Two for the price of one."
"We could ask Professor Dowling, he'd be good, but I don’t know… I think he's still ga-ga over Abigail, poor man," Fiona said sadly. "He's got some heartbreak heading his way, that's for sure. How many times is that woman going to break his heart? He so doesn't deserve it."
"I wouldn't count him down and out, just yet," Andrew cautioned. "I never followed up but he sent me a mysterious text a few days ago that warned me about her, not that I needed any warning, but whatever happened since I last saw him, I think he might be on to her."
"What did his text say?"
"Something like I was right about Abigail and she was not to be trusted. It's still in my phone."
"Wow, that would be great if he found out something evil about her. You should have seen all the flowers that he had sent to her room, the whole place looked like an over-stocked flower shop."
"Assuming we get each of them on board, we still need one more," Andrew pondered.
"What about Lily?" Fiona asked after they both thought hard.
"Lily?" Andrew asked like he wasn't expecting her name to come up, at least not at her suggestion. "You'd seriously want her included in this?"
"She wouldn't do it?" she asked innocently.
"No, I think she'd totally do it, she wants to leave and be an artist or something. I thought you didn't like Lily?"
"We may have gotten off on the wrong foot but if you say that there was nothing between you, then I believe you."
"There wasn't, totally," Andrew insisted. "I crashed on her sofa once and lost your silver hawk but nothing ever happened between us, we didn't even kiss or anything."
"Okay, relax," she said, calming down his excitability. "I've got you just where I want you," she joked. "I'm not that jealous, possessive insecure person anymore."
"She did come visit here once for a swim and we watched a movie but then I sent her home."
"You invited her here to the house?" Fiona asked in horror.
"She invited herself," Andrew said defensively in a high-pitched tone. "She said she couldn't tell me what she wanted to tell me on the phone. It was about leaving the organization and she—"
"Oh, relax, cheeseball," Fiona teased, like she was just joshing with him. "What pretty girl in her right mind wouldn't like you? You're a catch and you don't even know it."
"You got that right," Andrew said, relieved that he was in the clear. "Not just a pretty face."
"So you think she'd do it?" Fiona asked, getting back to the task at hand.
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure she would. She really wants out."
"Cool," Fiona said as she pulled him closer for another kiss that looked like it was going to last for a long, long time.
Chapter 17
&
nbsp; Several hundred people sat in anticipation in the large church that was lit only by candle-light. Waiting for the service to begin they watched for any movement near the altar which so far displayed only seven vacant chairs. Sitting up front and looking especially nervous, Abigail sat with what looked like a gathering of VIPs.
Looking just as nervous, Andrew ran about in the corridors leading off the church and checked his clipboard to make sure he was on top of things. Walking to a door marked TEO (The Enlightened Ones) he knocked before entering. "Everyone here and accounted for?" he asked while taking a head count? Dressed in their robes and looking all set and ready to go, they were a full complement. "Excellent," he said, making a note on his clipboard. "We go in twenty minutes," he announced.
"Twenty?" one of the men asked, sounding concerned.
"Slight delay, hold tight people, nothing to worry about," Andrew assured them.
Once outside the sturdy, solid oak door, he looked furtively around before he removed a large key from his pocket and quietly inserting it into the lock, he bolted the door shut. Making a hand signal, he waved forward the alternative Enlightened Ones who had been waiting in another side room. One by one and robed beyond identification, the impostors filed out, the last in line handing Andrew a spare robe, which he quickly changed into.
Walking slowly and reverentially, in single file they filled the seven seats at the apex of the gathering. Already positioned at the altar, the red-robed "Exalted One" extended his arms and welcomed the assembled. Muttering what sounded like an archaic language, he then called on various interested parties from the unseen realms to look kindly on the group and to consider with solemnity their collective entreaties.
The serious-minded attendees had no idea that as the service continued, the Exalted One was becoming more and more concerned about how the evening was progressing. Unlike any meeting he had facilitated in the past, he didn't know why he was having a hard time staying focused and alert. It was as if his mind kept drifting out of his body and tiredness was setting in, making him feel like he really preferred to be taking a nap rather than conduct a service.
Allied to his own state of mind, his primary concern was that the meeting was not going at all well. The energies felt turgid and resistant to his manipulation, as if the collective energies of the group were working against him rather than in his favor. Sticking to his planned agenda, however, he was sure that whatever kinks and resistances were in evidence would eventually work themselves out.
As the evening wore on, his initial assessment proved not to be the case, however. A general feeling of malaise seemed to be circulating among the gathering, the more sensitive of the assembled noticing it first. Manifesting as an up-swelling of anger and rage, several members of the gathered shifted uneasily in their seats. The discord gradually spread, people coughing and moving about in their chairs. Noticing the air of unpleasantness, Abigail anxiously looked around at the assembled in an unsuccessful attempt to ascertain the source of the upset.
Following some people's gaze up towards a window, she saw heavy rain lash against the window pane. Rain hadn't been forecast for the evening, in fact, rain wasn't forecast in Los Angeles for several weeks, if not months into the future. Considering it very odd, Abigail looked hard at the weather outside. Although it was dark, she could see an almost full moon in a cloudless sky which made it appear as though the torrential rain outside was localized, specific to that particular location, which would have been extremely rare and unusual.
She had only experienced such a localized weather phenomena one other time in her life and that also included a large gathering of people taking part in a sacred event. It was during the burial of her father and the Enlightened Ones were giving him a grand send off as they reenacted the same burial rituals as had been favored by the Egyptian Pharaohs. A storm broke out right over the mourner’s heads, a look of satisfaction breaking out on everyone's face as if it were a good thing and they had performed the steps of the ritual correctly.
As the weather outside intensified, a flash of lightening lit up the windows and a clap of thunder boomed in the sky, its volume suggesting that the storm was right overhead. A murmur of fear spread throughout the crowd. As citizens of Los Angeles, many of them would not have had much first-hand experience with such storms and would certainly consider it beyond extraordinary to be witnessing such intense and violent weather in the middle of July.
Another flash of lightening and a thunder boom in the sky caused increased unease throughout the jumpy crowd. If protocol had allowed, Abigail would have stood up and announced to the gathered that what was happening was a good thing and not to be alarmed. However, such an interruption during a ritual was vehemently discouraged and even considered potentially dangerous to those in session.
Standing up at the front of the church by the altar the Exalted One did not share Abigail's enthusiasm for what was transpiring. Had the crowd been able to see his face they would have seen the facial expression of a very frightened man. Feeling like he had lost his bearings, he was struggling to wrest control of the energies that had been unleashed by his incantations. Whereas on the outside he looked like he had everything under control, on the inside he felt more like the Sorcerer's Apprentice, fighting like crazy to tame the elements and the unseen world around him.
As for the magnificent seven impostors sitting in a curved line behind the Exalted One, things couldn't have been going much better. Utilizing to the max their rapid training by Simon, they performed their duties to the letter. Although their faces were covered and their identities hidden, one could almost see their smiling faces beneath their hoods.
A loud crash sent shrieks throughout the gathering as a window got shattered either by a falling branch or perhaps even a lightning strike, which were becoming more frequent and numerous. A cold wind blew through the broken glass, its sheer coldness defying normal weather conditions and causing further upset amongst the crowd. The intensifying burst of wind caused a long hanging window drape to dance unnaturally in the air as if it were a bad imitation of Casper the Ghost.
Increasingly unnerved and just one other mystifying calamity away from all-out panic, the well-dressed gathering watched with open mouths as the window drape seemed to dance in the air and then hug a large lit candle as if greeting an old friend. The drape immediately burst into flame and caused many to jump up in their seats with fright. As if by now the crowd had witnessed enough of the paranormal high-jinks for one night, when the flame rose up like a fireball in the air, some screamed and many left their seats in a rush for the exit.
When the sprinkler system got triggered and explosions of water burst out from every sprinkler outlet above the crowd, panic instantly set in. No longer waiting on ceremony or giving the benefit of the doubt, the well-mannered attendees turned into a terrified mass of raw humanity, shouting and yelling for people in front to clear their path so that they can make it safely to an exit, any exit.
Jumping to her feet Abigail rushed to head off as many as she could while shouting that everything was going to plan and no one was to panic. Unable to hear her above the screaming and the yelling of the evacuees, she got carried along with the mass of bodies that had only one intent in mind: to escape. Drenched from the avalanche of sprinkler water that gushed from above, the rush of packed-together bodies turned over chairs and even some unfortunate fallen bodies in order to vacate the terrifying building. In a matter of but minutes, the church had become deserted, water sodden and trashed.
The seven hooded tricksters responsible for the evening's debacle stood by their chairs as they watched what the effects of blind terror had done to what seemed like a refined and classy gathering but moments before. Removing their hoods to reveal broad smiles beneath, Andrew, Fiona, Simon, Professor Dowling, Lily, Henry and Arjuna exchanged grins and high-fives with one another, their work done for the evening.
Once they had hugged, back-slapped and generally congratulated each other, they turned to exit the
same way they had come. "You are all terribly proud of yourselves, I assume," a familiar voice spoke from the front of the church. Her clothes drenched and disheveled and generally looking worse for wear, Abigail walked slowly towards them, a look of severe disappointment and disapproval clouding her sad-beyond-words countenance. "I'd give you all a round of applause but I think I broke my arm while being thrown to the ground by a stampeding mass of good-for-nothing humanity."
"You brought this onto yourself, my dear sister," Simon shouted back as he signaled for the others not to delay their exit.
"Augustus," Abigail called as he was about to leave.
Gesturing to Simon that he would follow them presently, Professor Dowling held back while the others departed. "Are you alright?" he asked Abigail, genuinely concerned. "Your arm is actually broken?"
"Perhaps not," she answered, moving it about. "Just got a knock, I expect. Far less damaging than the injury to my pride, I can assure you."
"I'm sorry it had to come to this," he said softly as she approached. "What you did to Fiona was a bridge too far, I'm afraid."
"In the ever-raging conflict between good and evil, there will always be causalities. I love the girl dearly and she was never going to be harmed. I'm sorry you don't have the stomach for a good fight."
"Fighting was never my thing," he said as he turned to leave. "For what it's worth," he then said as he stopped. "I enjoyed my time with you, all those years ago and especially this past while. I was wishing for a better outcome."
"As was I," Abigail said meaningfully, as if to capture his attention, which she did. "I have no idea what you must think of me but I enjoyed our time together immensely. It may come as a surprise to you but I've always wondered what it would have been like, had I stayed all those years ago. What would my life have been like if I refused to go back and sent Simon back home instead? You would have been the tenured professor and I would have become your stay-at-home wife. I've thought a lot about that, you know, over the years. Sometimes I wish I would have had the nerve to do exactly that and go my own way, with you."