A Matter of Degrees
Page 1
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Other Books by Alex Marcoux
About the Author
Dedication
Author's Note and Acknowledgements
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Epilogue
Afterword
Bella Books
Copyright © 2006 by Alex Marcoux
Bella Books, Inc.
P.O. Box 10543
Tallahassee, FL 32302
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, without permission in writing from the publisher.
First published 2006 by The Haworth Press, Inc.
First Bella Books edition 2014
eBook released 2014
Excerpts from Rule by Secrecy by Jim Marrs (2000, New York, HarperCollins). Used by permission of author.
Egyptian ritual on page 172 from The Sacred Tradition in Ancient Egypt: The Esoteric Wisdom Revealed by Rosemary Clark (2000. Woodbury, MN. Llewellyn Worldwide, Ltd.). Used by permission of the publisher. All rights reserved.
Portions of the thirty-second degree lecture on pages 157–158, 188 are from The Deadly Deception by Jim Shaw and Tom McKenney (1988, Shreveport, LA, Huntington House Publishers). Used by permission.
Portions of the master mason ritual on pages 72–74 (Chapter 12) and Jessie’s meeting with Stonewall on pages 81–84 (Chapter 11) are from www.saintsalive.com/freemasonry/blue_lodge/blue_lodge_index.htm and www.saintsalive.com/freemasonry/blue_lodge/master.htm.
Cover Designer: Sandy Knowles
ISBN 13: 978-159493-412-4
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Other Bella Books by Alex Marcoux
Back to Salem
Façades
About the Author
Alex Marcoux never aspired to be a writer, she wanted to be a police detective but her Leominister High School guidance counselor suggested she explore sciences, and soon found herself in the labs of General Foods working on the product development of Crystal Light Powdered Soft Drink. Something was missing in her life though, and after being stirred by Colorado’s Amendment 2 anti-gay and lesbian initiative she took her hand at writing her first novel, Façades, earning her a Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers Pen Award. Back to Salem, Alex’s second novel was a Lambda Literary Award Finalist for Best Lesbian Mystery. Her third novel, A Matter of Degrees, was a Gaylactic Spectrum nominee for Best Novel and Golden Crown Literary Award Finalist for Speculative Fiction. All three of Alex’s novels were initially published by The Haworth Press and followed by Bella Books. While writing A Matter of Degrees, Alex used the process revealed in her creativity and spirituality book, Lifesigns: Tapping the Power of Synchronicity, Serendipity and Miracles (Jenness Press 2012), to plot the controversial suspense thriller. Lifesigns won the 2013 Silver Medal in the Metaphysical category of the Living Now Book Awards.
Alex is an intuitive, inspirational speaker and student of various philosophies, including the Science of Mind and Spirit. She conducts workshops on creativity, inspirational writing and the Lifesign Process. Alex resides outside of Denver and is currently writing a couple novels, among other things. More information about Alex and her work can be found on www.AlexMarcoux.com.
For
Mom & Dad
Author’s Note and Acknowledgements
When I write, I allow life’s events to inspire where my stories go and then somehow filter the information onto the pages. After reading this book I’m sure you’ll wonder what events triggered me to ponder the ancient Egyptian mysteries, gardens of Sumer, Mary Magdalene, or the Knights Templar. You may even wonder what took me inside of Freemasonry’s Blue Lodge and Scottish Rite. As a woman though, how could I?
For those of you who have followed my writing from Façades and Back to Salem, I thank you for continuing this journey with me, and it really has been a journey. As you have seen, my stories are a bit more complex than my earlier work. If your memory is good you will see the subtle connections between the characters of the three books. For those of you who aren’t familiar with my earlier work, thank you for hopping on board! It’s not too late, because we’re really just getting started!
An endless list of authors’ work helped percolate this story onto the pages. They include Michael Baigent, William Bramley, Manly P. Hall, Richard Leigh, Henry Lincoln, Jim Marrs, and Zecharai Stitchin. The Masonic rituals dialogue is based upon excerpts posted on “Saints Alive in Jesus” website (www.saintsalive.com) which is provided by the Ex-Masons for Jesus and Ephesians 5:11, Inc. (http://www.ephesians5-11.org). I found The Deadly Deception by Jim Shaw and Tom McKenney helpful in capturing the essence of the ceremonies, as well as providing the lecture for the thirty-second degree. Books by Rosemary Clark and John Van Auken were helpful in depicting the ancient Egyptian rituals and customs.
Sincere thanks to everyone at The Haworth Press and Bella Books for making this book a reality. Thanks to my copy editor, Nancy Deisroth, who has been along for the ride since Façades. Over the years there have been endless drafts and enthusiastic volunteers who have read my work and provided valuable insight. Thank you Aggie, Janet, Joe, Kris, Michelle, Sandra, Sharon, Sherry, and Susan. Thanks Mom, for reading it and still loving me!
In every writer’s life there is a support system, a team of people cheering you on from the sideline. My support system changed dramatically while I wrote this story. There has been one voice, though, since the story’s inception. One individual has walked by my side, held my hand when I’ve needed it, and smiled for no reason other than he is with me. I hear his giggle in my head as I write this. I want to thank my son, Preston, for
being with me since this story’s maiden voyage.
This book took years to research, write, and rewrite. To say it’s a work of passion is an understatement. I cannot say that the theories expressed here are my beliefs, because my own develop as my journey unfolds. My hope is that A Matter of Degrees opens minds to other possibilities no matter how outrageous, improbable, or impossible they may seem, because we owe it to ourselves to seek Truth. But also, I hope you enjoy this tale!
A Matter of Degrees is not intended to be an anti-freemasonry book. My deepest apologies if I offend anyone. It’s my belief that there are many paths to the one true Light and Freemasonry is a very unique approach.
P.S. If you are comfortable with your impression of the world’s existing systems, the banking system, the government, world religions, our history…even humankind, do not read this book.
Prologue
Long before the region was called Iraq—
before the ancient empires of Egypt, Greece, or Rome.
Even before the first ancient civilization of Sumer—
there was E.DIN.
It was Enki’s compassion for the slaves that altered his life, and the lives of humankind. He wanted something more for them. Why couldn’t a select few be given the knowledge of eternal life? Enki pondered, as he verged upon his brother’s sanctuary.
Apart from the sporadic swish caused by sand displaced beneath their sandals, there was silence. Pensively, Enki trekked onward with two guards on his heels. His half-brother, Enlil, had summoned him. Enki suspected that his activities from the previous evening had been exposed. This, he knew, would have infuriated his younger sibling. Considering the possibility, he understood what Enlil was capable of. As the supreme ruler of E.DIN, Enlil had the power to relegate Enki’s status of second-in-command.
Deep in thought, Enki pressed on toward the palace. Since he returned from AB.ZU, where he supervised the mining operation, he had been outraged by Enlil’s mistreatment of the slaves. To Enki it was simple; the slaves fulfilled their purpose. They mined the council’s precious ore, and here in the fertile gardens of E.DIN, they harvested their fruit. Although the slaves served the council well, they had wretched and pitiful lives, ignorant of wisdom, pleasure, or their fundamental essence. Treated like animals, they lived and died toiling for Enlil and the supreme council.
When they reached the palace chamber, he waited silently, towering over the men that had escorted him there. Enki recalled the initiation from the previous evening, and how he had shared with the chosen slaves about elevating their consciousness and finding true light.
“Leave us!” Enlil’s voice bellowed from the entry. As the two guards disappeared into the palace, Enlil emerged and stood before Enki, his powerfully built body adorned with gold trinkets.
“You have done it this time. What were you thinking?” Enlil’s anger glared through his steel gray eyes. “You know that as long as the slaves remain spiritually ignorant we stay in control.”
“Brother, there were—”
“Don’t call me brother.” Enlil cut him off, his voice echoing within the chamber walls. “Your harlot mother was my father’s only weakness. You shouldn’t have been sent here.”
Enki was familiar with Enlil’s acts of aggression toward him, but something was different this time. “Enlil, the workers serve their purpose. I chose a select few to teach our ways.”
“Anu would never approve.”
“Father isn’t here to discuss this.”
“Marduk would never approve.”
“My son is also not here to debate the issue,” Enki said calmly.
“When Marduk arrives, you will never see him.”
“What are you saying?”
“You’ve outdone yourself, Enki.” Enlil retreated to the entryway where he effortlessly grabbed a staff and, with thickset arms, clashed it against a golden disk. The clanging reverberated in the tiny room; guards quickly entered and surrounded Enki.
“What is the meaning of this?” Enki asked evenly.
“You…” Enlil advanced so that the brothers were eye-to-eye. With the exception of their muscular frames, there was little resemblance between the men. “You are banished from E.DIN.”
A smile came to Enki’s lips. “You’re not serious.”
“Oh, but I am. Enki, you are to be exiled! I will spread the word among the slaves that you are a mortal enemy of the supreme council. They will learn that you are responsible for everything bad that happens to them, and that it is your intention to spiritually enslave them.”
“But that’s not true.” Enki’s voice rose. The guards grabbed him and he struggled to free himself, but there were too many of them.
“People will fear you.” Enlil’s voice soared above the resistance. “They will know that you are evil and loathe you.”
For a moment, Enki’s effort ceased. “Why are you doing this?”
“You will never be a leader, Enki. My work will rise above you, and you will be called Abaddon, and from where I will put you—you’ll be the keeper of the bottomless pit.” The evil in Enlil’s eyes flashed, and his laugh would echo in Enki’s ears forever.
* * *
At first his only sense was smell. He was face down in the soggy soil, and the terrain reeked of decaying earth. Enki tasted the foul sludge that had coated his lips. He pulled his partially submerged face from the dank mud, and sat upright. His head throbbed. His sandals were nowhere to be found. The only thing he had been left with was the robe on his back.
Rather than the plentiful gardens that he had become accustomed to in E.DIN, Enki was surrounded by shallow water and tall grass of swampland. It was then that he remembered Enlil’s men tossing him into a pit. He found the bump on the back of his head, the basis of his headache. A quick glance behind him confirmed the wall of earth, almost two men high, from which he had been thrown.
A hiss drew Enki’s attention to the thick reeds that stirred close to him. Then he spotted the black water moccasin slithering within inches. The snake’s head abruptly shot up, flashing its venomous fangs, forked tongue, and white mouth. Hissing angrily, the snake lunged toward his face. Skillfully, Enki seized it within a finger’s length of his eyes. The serpent thrashed about, trying to free itself from Enki’s grasp, but it was no match for the powerful arm. Enki stood. The snake succumbed, and when all resistance was gone, he dropped the snake at his feet. Slowly, it slithered into the shallow water.
Enki studied the surrounding area. On three sides the earth was high above his head, on the fourth face there was an endless marsh. He stepped forward, into the swamps.
* * *
The years passed. At first, his time had been consumed with his own survival. Then one day, movement in the swamp caught Enki’s attention. Upon closer inspection, he saw a man with darker skin than his own. Here, Enki met a slave that had escaped from E.DIN. He discovered that other men and women lived there, choosing freedom in the swamps over their lives of bondage in E.DIN. These people welcomed Enki, and he embraced them.
Against Enlil’s edicts, Enki taught the uninitiated ethics, justice, and how to seek true light. To the chosen ones, he explained the mysteries of life and the great secret of humankind’s creation. It was here, in the snake-filled marshlands of Mesopotamia, that Enki formed the Brotherhood of the Snake.
Chapter One
It was late. If she had been more attentive, Rachel may have noticed the silence in the hallway outside her office door or the absence of sunlight from her window. Perhaps even, if she weren’t so absorbed in her work, she would have become aware of the growl in her stomach from missing dinner. But it was the chime of the clock that drew her attention to the time.
“My God! It’s already ten o’clock.”
Rachel looked back at the cryptic notes that were spread on top of her desk, but her eyes bothered her. She removed her reading glasses then rubbed the base of her skull. As her fingers massaged the deeply rooted knots, her long dark hair fell loosely aroun
d her face. She rotated her neck, first from front to back, and then full circles to help relieve the headache that had plagued her that evening.
When her head turned, she caught sight of her reflection in the window. She paused, and then looking past her silhouette, Rachel gazed upon the glitter of the office buildings from her elevated location. She had always admired the view of Manhattan’s skyscrapers from her office. She stood and stretched her arms over her head.
“I should go home,” she whispered to herself. Then her vision returned to the notes sprawled across her desk, and she replaced the glasses to the bridge of her nose. Rachel sat and continued her work, as if a spell had been cast upon her.
As a field reporter for one of the more reputable television news programs, Rachel Addison had become accustomed to the late hours at the network office building. She had worked for Over the Edge going on five years. Presently, she was working on a controversial project connecting secret societies with various politicians. She continued massaging the knots in her neck as she studied notes concerning the Council on Foreign Relations (CFR), the Trilateral Commission, and Freemasonry.
Bang! A sudden knock from the hallway outside her office door startled her. Who’s here this late? she wondered, and the door opened abruptly. Instinctively, Rachel sprang to her feet as Steve Mercer barged into her office.
Rachel stared at the other field reporter, then she possessively gathered the notes that had been spread on her desk and stuffed them into a manila folder. “My God, Steve! You scared me,” her voice was more hoarse than usual.
Steve closed her office door. “Good.” He moved closer to Rachel. “Someone needs to put some sense into your head.” It was almost a whisper.
Rachel pulled the reading glasses from her face and stepped away from her desk. “What are you talking about?”