He examines his nonexistent fingernails.
“You are a mighty god, Zynnwxatu. I meant no trespass.”
“You made a personal wind!”
“Is it against the law?”
“Do you even know where winds end, and stones begin? Even the soil you walk upon is stone commanded by winds. Who conveys the rains to feed everything that flowers? Who decides the destination of rocket ships? Who directs the aurora borealis? Who scatters the pollens, who forms the clouds, who drives the sails on ships? Who provides exit for the sorrows of the children of Earth and cleanses the channels for joy to circulate?”
“You are powerful, Zynnwxatu.”
“Humph. Who conveys thoughts, who shapes sounds, who conducts the Muses, who commands the reverberations in the tunnels of the ears? Who gives sound to drums and harps? What gives voice to the brass of horns, what sings through the chest and out of the mouth…WHO?”
“You, Zynnwxatu.”
“And all the winds at my command!”
“Forgive me. I did not see.”
“A starmeister falls to Earth blind? Where is your indigo veil, daughter of Zalos? Where are your wings? Did the fire gods burn away your feathers when you thought to throw open the star portal?”
“Oh, for goodness sake. I meant only to please my mate.”
“Is he pleased?”
“His pleasure is my company.”
“Then let him come for you.”
“He does not know how.”
“Now we speak of the fundamental differences between your world of origin and my domain. Here will precedes knowing.”
“But how can he choose what he does not know? Did I will to come here?”
“His heart will guide him. Do you fear his love for you is weak?”
“His love is a great wind to my chirp.”
“Then do not fill the channels with your warbling. Faith is the eye that sees the hand appear. No wise soul spins alone!”
“I will name my son Remember to remind me of your wisdom.”
“I am flattered…but he has a name already. And he is not who you think.”
“Not Therin?…”
“Who wrapped him? You know not even the wind husbands of Wahyonihumaniel. What does a starmeister know of Earth?” he asks his royal attendees. They all shake their heads.
“You know the soul you conveyed to my womb?”
“Perhaps a traveler from Io, seeking haven for Gaianosis.”
“He shall have it.”
“Unless his mother opens the gates of Chaos in one of her frolics!”
“You humble me. In the name of Wahyonihumaniel, please convey me home.”
He wags a long bluish arm. “Go blow away the way you came.”
“I don't know the way I came.”
“Your will has not grown eyes since you came to open a portal. You were blind to the war that rages on Earth, and you are still as blind.”
“I along with all human inhabitants. Who sees the archons?”
“WE DO!” he thunders. “Who posts the sentinels and keeps the flaming swords burning?”
“Where were your sentinels when they struck down the one we called Lancel?”
“Surprised,” he says simply. “Did we foresee ambitious travelers from foreign worlds? We serve the children of Earth. And starmeisters who spin blindly.”
“Who can understand a war between peoples and rulers they cannot see?”
“The war rages among the peoples on Earth, you foolish woman. The ones you call the archons absorb the spoils.”
“I see. The light we make threatens their energy source.”
“And they are ravenous.”
“But if they have no souls, should I be concerned?”
“Only if you are concerned with balances! If you succeed in flooding the Earth with light, you will collapse the night! You yearn to return the Earth to paradise, innocent of good and evil. But how do you un-know what you know? Will the champions for good embrace evil? What then shall be your triumph?”
“Love.”
“Ha! Who knows love, not knowing hate?”
“I do not speak of the emotion of love. I speak of love as life and light.”
“No night? No dark? No death? Nothing to overcome, no wrongs, nothing to prove yourselves righteous? Did you hope to erase all differentiations?”
“I hope to see with clear eyes, to judge neither good nor evil.”
“Ah…she aspires to enlighten!”
“I do not enlighten. I am light.”
“So is all. How does such knowledge change the course of human endeavor?”
“I do not exist to change the course of human endeavor. I map my own course.”
“Cleverly stated by someone barely human.”
“Human is a distinguishment. The soul is not so hampered.”
“Poor child. You fell from the future to the past! Evolution here is slow and cumbersome.”
“Not for one who flies.”
“Here only birds fly—if we transport them.”
“Fair enough. I will take the form of an eagle and you can fly me home.”
“What is an eagle with short eyes?”
“One who will starve or collide with rocks.”
“We have long eyes.”
“Be my eyes. Fly me home.”
“We see on your map a long way home…a way to redeem the pride that spun you here.”
“I will go the way of redemption.”
“A task you must perform….”
“Anything. Say it.”
“We see one who travels to the portal of death, but it is not his time.”
“Fly me to him. I will show him the path of life.”
“Ready yourself, daughter of Zalos.”
The royal attendants and the naiads swirl into featureless winds as the great god rises, his hair dancing around his fearsome face. Swooping toward her, his features dissolve. Quickly she gathers energy and forms of it an eagle's body. She lets Zynnwxatu spin her as thin as a pencil; then she slips into the eagle's form and commands its wings to fly. Ah, sweet freedom!…
Zynnwxatu sweeps her out of the cavern and she sees Star Rock below. So…there is a wind tunnel above the house connected to the portal! Down below life seems to make no sense, but up here, all is perfection.
The great wind carries her high above the scattered clouds of time, southeast toward the man for whom she will be a message. Soaring in ecstasy, she asks all to forgive her for her frequent complaints, asks for help to remember she is pure spirit, and for strength to fulfill her mission on Earth.
The ground is coming up fast. She works her wings to slow her speed. The sun is sinking in the west and the light below is golden-orange. A great dust storm on the plains—Texas, she knows—havoc playing between the clusters of glittering electric lights of civilization. How will she recognize the man? Traveling in a car…Zynnwxatu will carry her. She must not fear going down into the dust storm. Are not all the winds subject to Zynnwxatu's commands?
She is sailing above trees and beneath power lines. She shuts her eyes to block the grit, blinks rapidly. Now she is being swept above a white dust-caked car with its lights on. She sees what she must do. But not yet! A great wave of sand sweeps over the car, causing it to swerve. The driver is pulling the vehicle over to the shoulder to wait out the microburst of dirt. Now!
She sweeps down, sweeps across the windshield, touching her wing on the glass. For an instant, her beady eyes lock on his dark eyes, and she knows she is an effective message!
It is done. As she is carried up again, she knows the man is one of them! Her heart is so glad, she is halfway back to Star Rock before it occurs to her…again she acted on impulse without a complete plan. Will Zynnwxatu carry her home ?…
Jonah is dreaming. After he amazed Zion dancing to John Denver's Rocky Mountain High, she danced for him. And she spun invisible! He can't believe it! His dream self rubs his eyes. “Come on, Zion….” He gets up, shakin
g. “Zion…this isn't funny.”
He shuts off the music. The silence is deathly white. He stares into the candlelight, rubs his arms. Bolts up the stairs.
Thunderpaws is in the kitchen, whines, goes for his legs.
“Not now!” He yanks open the back door, runs out barefoot onto the dirt and looks up at the sky. A clear black sky with stars. The cloud is gone. That was no cloud! Something abducted Zion—archons!
Thunder is making angry sounds.
Feed the cat. But loping into the house, Jonah bounds down the stairs. He goes from room to room, turns on all of the lights, looks behind the furnace. He whacks the shower curtain. Face it…he saw it happen with his own eyes. She disappeared. That message…that we could go invisible…he thought it was a metaphor. Invisibility as blend in, not stick out—not literal invisibility. When he told Zion about it, she didn't say anything special. It was part of the larger discussion of what they might accomplish as a clan.
He sits in the silence and candlelight gloom, down on the basement floor on the spot where she disappeared. He can feel her energy, swears it. He tries to talk to her, he prays, he cries.
Exhausted, he finally goes to bed. Lies down without undressing. If she's gone for good, maybe he wants to die. That's selfish. I'm sorry, Coral, but you will have a broken man for a father….
“RISE!”
Jonah's head comes up. He blinks. In a radiant oval of golden light is a face—Zedapeth! Recognition of Zion's father, the bird-man, is instant, but familiarity does little to reduce the shock.
Jonah inches up to a sitting position. A feeling of anger emanates from Zedapeth…a hologram…must be. Zion is in trouble and it's Jonah's fault.
No, I am not worthy of your daughter, but I'm the best man on Earth. I love her!
How can you call yourself a man if you cannot protect her? Zedapeth telepaths.
Earth women don't just disappear! If I knew where she was or how to get there, I would risk my own life to save her! What more could any man do?
On Earth it takes two.
I can grasp the concept, but I am only one man, insufficient as that is!
Where two gather, there I am.
Jesus said that. I'm going to believe Jesus is a birdman, Zion's father, goes by the name of Zedapeth, sure.
“REMEMBER YOUR LESSONS!”
The sound of his voice is a drumroll inside Jonah's head. He is remembering…vague memories of attending classes in a white temple…. Where two gather, there I am…the link principle…the interconnection principles…the Law of One…
I need your help….
I cannot interfere. It is your world.
I can't do it alone! Who will gather with me to form the One?
“HE WILL COME.”
Jonah swoons.
The vision evaporates.
He will come? Who? When?
Deeper into the dream, he is remembering more of what he learned in the temple. Five kinds of people will come to the Valley—Star Valley they will call it…. Water people—healers and counselors; wind people—scribes and messengers; stone people—teachers and historians; tree people—stewards and evolution experts; fire people—activators and mediators. People will come from all over the world to be activated…and some will come to challenge, test, disrupt…all in keeping with the evolution of our becoming….
Now he dreams he wakes up the morning after Zion disappears. He goes into the kitchen to tell Triss and Coral the horrible news.
Triss's dream self says, “Invisibility is natural, Jonah.”
Coral's dream self says, “You just shift, Daddy. The wind gods twirl you.”
Distraught, Jonah goes outdoors to chop wood. He picks up the ax, walks over to the woodpile. He pulls on an oak log, causing a small avalanche, slams the log on the chopping block, raises the ax and brings it down, cracks the log. His muscles scream. Good. The body pain is a place for the hurt in his heart to go. Let his arms work the grief out through his hands. He gets a rhythm. Three strong whacks and the oak is split.
He places another log on the block. Before he raises the ax, he hears a man's voice behind him.
“Can I borrow that ax? Got some chickens I want to chop off their heads.”
Chills race up Jonah's back and down his arms. Only his brother Anthony knows he could not bear to see any of the farm animals killed.
“What about it? You going to lend your ax to a hungry man? What's a chicken?”
Jonah turns around very slowly.
The man's arm comes out in a calming gesture. “Hey, take it easy, John….”
“Anth…Tony?”
Anthony takes a cautious step forward. “I would feel a lot better if you put down that ax, John.”
Jonah drops it. His eyes roll up in his head; he faints.
A noise like a shrill flute wakes Zion and Jonah. Murmuring love words only their hearts can understand, they snuggle under the warm covers in the pale light of early morning.
Zion says, “I dreamt we will name our son Remember.”
Jonah grins. “Remember what?”
“Remember Joel.”
“Remember Joel Mahoney…does have a certain ring to it,” he says dubiously.
“Remember Joel Äose-Mahoney.”
“Mmmm…I dreamt you went invisible and my brother came to help bring you back. He was a remote viewer for the CIA. I like that. Tony's ghost is a remote viewer for the CIA. He was on the lam…headed for Mexico…. Something happened, a light…like St. Paul on the road to Damascus. So Tony turned his car west and came here to convert us all to Jesus.” Jonah chuckles. “About as likely as a pearl tree….”
“Jonah…”
“Mmmm.”
“I heard a car pull up. Someone is out back.”
“Triss and Coral.”
“It's six-thirty.”
Jonah gets up, pulls on his jeans, leans over, kisses her. “Probably the paperboy.”
“You don't take the paper.”
“New paperboy. Got his addresses mixed up. Be back in a jiff…”
Whistling, Jonah goes down the hallway. The sunlight in the kitchen is so bright, it stops him. He turns around, looks behind him, scratches his head. It's as if between the bedroom and the kitchen, the time advanced two hours. Thunder is curled up on the floor under the window in a patch of sunlight. He looks fat and happy, like someone already fed him this morning.
Jonah points at him. “Evil grinner.”
He peers past the curtain on the back door window. Sure enough, there's a car parked at the edge of the drive. White car splattered with red mud. A man is standing out there.
“Bring my gun, Annie,” he jokes, opening the door. He opens the screen door, leans out. “Can I help you?”
The man starts walking toward him slowly. Sort of resembles Anthony…black hair, dark eyes…Mahoney nose….
“Anth—Tony?”
“Sorry to do this to you, Brother….”
“No…NO…” Jonah races down the hall toward his bedroom. “Zion!”
The bed is empty.
He laughs a lion's laugh. “Very funny!” He goes to the closet, yanks open the door, hits the clothes. Down the hall he goes, looking in every room. In the bathroom he whacks the shower curtain. He runs back, looks under the bed.
Slowly he rises, feeling that deathly white silence he felt in the dream. He shivers. Grabs a shirt, sticks his feet into thongs, pads down the hall, into the kitchen. The door is still open.
“If you weren't here, I'd be sure my mind was completely gone, Thunder.” He walks out on the back porch.
Anthony is standing there in a greenish black trench coat, shoulders hunched, hands sunk deep in black slacks.
Jonah squints, wonders if he's hallucinating. This has got to be a virtual reality dream….
“You came at an awkward time, Anthony. My mate just disappeared into thin air.” He whistles, snaps his fingers.
His brother turns his head eastward, stares. Silver streaks in Antho
ny's black hair. His face is a mask of tension. Anthony looks old.
“Times are strange, John.”
“Jonah.”
“Heard you changed your name.”
“Heard or saw? I heard you were a remote viewer for the CIA.”
“Jesus Carpenter Christ.” Anthony's hands fly out of his pockets. “How the hell did you know that?”
“You are? You're really a remote viewer for the CIA?”
His brother doesn't move or say anything. He's just standing there, staring, his arms spread out. Jonah steps down the porch stairs. Swallowing a throat full of tears, he gives his brother a bear hug.
“You look like shit,” he says hoarsely. “We thought you were dead.”
“Maybe I am.”
“Then so am I. Or we're both caught in a virtual reality scenario. Your coming coincides with the disappearance of my mate, Zion. Will you help?”
He sighs. “You have a spot of coffee before we move deeper into the strangeness?”
After Jonah sets the machine to brew, he goes down the hall again to his bedroom. “Damn…” Zion is still gone. He leans over, sniffs the pillow, smells her heathery perfume. She was here. Memories of all of the weird things that have happened since she came are a windstorm in his mind. Maybe she is ET!
Back in the kitchen, Jonah gulps coffee and watches his brother. No Mahoney curls, black eyebrows slashed over those dark, haunted eyes, sharp features, the hard pensive look of the Beaumont tribe.
“All those years, Tony. You couldn't even call any of us, let us know you were alive and okay?”
“I was never okay.”
“What happened?”
“Don't ask.”
“What happened to bring you here, now?”
A glint of light appears in his brother's dark orbs. He smiles faintly. “I was headed for Mexico. Because I thought it was that or…When an eagle…” He shakes his head, stares into his coffee mug. “You ever have a mystical experience that changed your whole life?”
“Yeah…Zion. The woman you came to remote view. This isn't the first strange thing that has happened since she came here.”
“She owns the house.”
Jonah lets that sink in. “What else do you know about us?”
“She glows, John—Jonah. Your Zion glows. Picked up by an observation satellite. She's suspect as a plant. UFO drama. Story is, nonhumans are studying us, or worst case, a supplantation is going on.”
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