“That’s so weird. Why would we not know about this? I mean, I don’t…” I begin.
“It took us a while to find all of you. It was with Diana’s help that you were revealed, and when I got back, I realized it was because you weren't in our original reality. You were here all along, in the same town I was in—but you were operating on a different frequency.”
“So you're saying you had to come out of your reality in order to find us?” Mike asks.
Gabe nods. “That's exactly what Morgan’s saying. When we got back, we knew you were close, but we couldn’t quite get to you. It’s been years since I veil-walked, but it occurred to me that we should give it a try. That’s how Morgan was able to locate you.”
Braham furrows his eyebrows, and he finally speaks up. “Hold on, you told me our vibrations shifted us from our normal reality in order to be here. Where’s here if we’re out of our reality and not in yours?”
“We’re in purgatory, Abraham,” Bea says.
Melissa bows her head in agreement, but both Thea and Braham look more confused than ever.
“I’m not sure what that is, but I’m fairly sure it’s important,” I say.
“Like I said, dear, I'm a historian. I've studied the world’s religions and I could see a void missing in the absence of it. In my dreams, I would remember bits and pieces—tried writing down where things felt like they didn’t fit. Needless to say, it ended up with me in the old folk’s home,” she says, shrugging. “At least they had decent pot roast and I had a damn fine nurse named Henry.”
She grins suggestively.
“Ooookay… changing subjects,” I say, widening my eyes and shooting a glance to Braham. “So, why didn't you bring all of this up sooner?”
“Anthea, not everything has to have answers the moment you determine you need them. Sometimes things are best left unsaid until the opportune moment arises,” Bea offers.
“Let me get this straight. Our objective may or may not be tied to some religion that doesn't exist here for us. But it existed in some other realities?” Mike says.
“I think so, yes,” Morgan says.
“When did this origin story begin? If it needs to exist in this time, how can we fix it?” Mike asks, his face more serious than I’ve seen it this whole time.
Melissa pats Mike on the leg and says, “You’re looking at two thousand and thirty-three years ago.”
“Holy shit. How in the world will we ever manage to correct this issue?” I sputter.
“That's easy—time travel,” Bea says, laughing.
I narrow my eyes. “I’m glad you find this funny. Let me just reach into my back pocket for my time-travel machine. We’ll get working right on that.”
“Time travel isn’t even possible yet. I mean, I’ve heard rumors we’re getting close, but nothing concrete. Just side chats after going to TED talks,” Braham says, turning to Mike. “Do you know anything?”
Mike's eyes widen, but he grins sheepishly, “I, uh…it’s sorta what I’m researching right now.”
“Well, that’s convenient,” I mutter under my breath.
Mike’s eyebrows flick upward. “I mean, not in the way the movies show it, though. It’s way more complicated and just in the beginning stages.”
“Can you elaborate?” Braham asks, bending forward.
“We’ve managed a machine that can communicate to the past, like a telepathic telephone, in a way. I don’t have a way to travel back; your physical body can’t make the trip. At least, not yet. We’ve got a ways to go.”
“So traveling back is possible, but really not because we’re not technologically advanced enough to pull it off?” I ask, curling my lip into a disgusted snarl.
“Yes and no. Consciousness—the essence of who we are—might be able to make the leap,” Mike says, narrowing his eyes.
“You’re gonna need to be more specific here, Michael. You’re losing those of us without a fancy pants degree,” Bea says, tapping the underside of the tabletop. Her eyes sparkle with a hint of amusement, and I swear to the gods—if they exist—she’s going to be the downfall of us all.
“We’re working on particle displacement right now; we’re close, but we haven’t cracked the code just yet. So far, we’ve managed to get back details—written words and scribbles from whatever time we were trying to communicate with. It’s possible we can send an observer back, mind-to-mind, and that’s our ultimate goal right now. The idea is we would ‘leap’ into the mind of someone already in the time we’re trying to go to.”
“Sounds like a corny science fiction movie,” I snicker.
Mike ignores me, flitting his eyes from me back to Braham. “The machine’s relatively small, but maybe if we use our—I dunno—angel abilities and whatnot, we can enhance my research and expedite the process,” Mike offers.
“It's worth a try,” Morgan says. “Right now, it’s the only thing we have to go on.”
“Anyone else concerned we’re going at all of this half-cocked?” I ask.
“Do you have a better suggestion?” Gabe turns cold blue eyes toward me.
A shiver races down my spine, and I suddenly feel very exposed by his gaze. Like he can see straight through me.
“Well, no. It’s just…I don’t know. It all feels a bit too convenient. Maybe we’re just looking for patterns where there aren’t any,” I say, concern sweeping through me.
Morgan shakes her head. “We’ve all been brought here for a reason. Looking for patterns in what we know and how we can correct things is exactly what we should be doing.”
“I get that, but this feels a bit far-fetched,” I say.
Bea laughs. “Anthea, what would we do without your dollop of skepticism?”
I shoot her an annoyed stare before turning back to Morgan.
“Look, I just want to offer another perspective, just in case. I would be doing the group a disservice if I ignored the shit niggling at me. Besides, maybe that’s my superpower,” I chuckle.
“A fair point and duly noted. How does everyone else feel about this?” Gabe asks.
“I don’t think we have much of a choice at this point,” Morgan offers.
Mike’s head bobs up and down. “I feel like we gotta go with where the string is unraveling. In my experience, unraveling mysteries and discovering new things always begins with the willingness to try.”
Everyone in the room nods in agreement.
“Alright, then, let's get started. At least we have a direction and a goal to work toward. Gabe, take Mike and Braham to the lab. See if you can get the machine back here quickly. I'll stay here with the ladies, and we’ll come up with a plan for what happens after we’re successful,” Morgan says.
Gabe turns to Mike. “We’ll need to be careful. The demons will still be looking for us, and there’s no telling if we can keep them at bay. How far away is your lab?”
Mike inhales sharply. “It’s a bit of distance, actually. Couple hour drive.”
“We don't have time for that. I'll have to give you both a crash course in veil-walking,” Gabe says.
Mike shudders. “I don’t know what that means, but I can make some educated guesses at this point.”
“Come on, let’s head to the kitchen and start testing,” Gabe says, tilting his head toward the back of the building.
“This’ll be interesting,” Braham says getting up from his seat and following after Gabe.
“Be as quick as you can, and for sure by noon. We’ll need to compare notes and start implementing our plan. We don’t have much time,” Morgan says seriously.
Gabe tips his head and exits the room with the others following behind.
“So, how exactly are we going to create a plan based on going back in time?” I blurt out.
“We each have our strengths, Anthea, and if we put our heads together we’ll come up with something. It’s why we’re here; you have to have a little faith,” Bea says. “Besides, Morgan and I have details you don’t. And perhaps with Melissa's
help…”
Melissa looks at her wrist and stands up. “I’m sorry, everyone, but my time here is up. Remember what I said because the time is clocking down. Nineteen hours, forty-eight minutes. I wish I could stay, but I have other work to do before the judgment happens. Plus, my kids need to get to daycare.”
“Wait a minute…You're the one giving us direction here. We need your guidance. Besides, Morgan,” I say, turning to her, “I thought you said she was our fifth.”
“You have everything you need. Like Bea said, have faith,” Melissa says matter-of-factly.
With that, she blinks out of existence.
“Gah. I will never get used to that,” I mutter, covering my face with my hands.
“Morgan, of the three of us here, you're the only one who can describe the mythology behind Christianity. I can offer historical context, but that's as far as it goes. How do you propose we set everything back on track?” Bea asks nonchalantly.
I swear, nothing fazes the woman.
Morgan walks away, stopping for a moment in front of the painting with the tortured man.
“Braham said he was a fertility doctor, right? What did he call himself? A reproductive endocrinologist? Don’t they handle in vitro fertilization?”
Bea nods. “Yes, I believe that's right.”
“Well, Jesus was born by immaculate conception, which means, his mother conceived without any known reason. The mythology around it says an angel…”
Her eyes widen as she spins back around to us.
“Angel. An angel came to Mary and told her she would conceive God’s child,” she says, her hands splayed out wide.
“What are you getting at?” I say.
“We’re on the right track. I know we are. If we can find a way to travel back in time, maybe it would be possible to re-create the event.”
I narrow my gaze and tilt my head. “Yeah, I’m still not following.”
“What if we go back in time and become her angel? The woman that would have been his mother? We can continue the mythology and somehow make them all believe we’re enacting God’s will—”
“Who's to say you aren’t,” Bea responds pragmatically.
“I suppose we would be, at least in some way.” Morgan says.
“Yeah, okay,” I say, trying not to roll my eyes at the absurdity. “Well, that's neither here nor there, is it? The fact of the matter is, we're trying to re-create an origin story based off of extremely limited information. Not to mention we have a machine that doesn’t allow us to physically go back in time.”
“Yet…” Morgan says, determination seeping into her demeanor.
“Okay, sure. Yet.” I shrug. “Let’s say we get over that tiny hurdle in the next few hours. How do we convince these people from another time of this immaculate conception story? I mean, they’re still going to be people, after all. Our brains haven’t evolved all that much over the millennia. In fact, cavemen could have sent rockets to the moon if they had the same information we have. And that’s the only thing we have going for us. How skeptical or primitive were the people two thousand years ago?”
Bea’s lips press into a thin line. “They obviously didn't have our butter brickle ice cream, but beyond that, Anthea is right. They were just as complicated as you and I. We would need to tread lightly and give them a damn good show.”
“But they didn't have any concept of in vitro fertilization. To them, that would've seemed magical, right?” Morgan says.
“Sure,” Bea says, shrugging. “Shit, it would still seem pretty damn magical now if someone was surprised by an angel and suddenly found themselves knocked up. Don’t you think?”
Morgan laughs softly, a slight smile hinting in the creases of her eyes.
“Okay, so my plan’s starting to take form here. What if we're able to go back using the machine of Mike’s, somehow incorporating the angelic essence you all have. I mean, I’ve seen the things Gabe can do. He’s like nothing I’ve ever seen—he’s incredible. Maybe Mike’s machine is all we need to boost Gabe’s veil-walking so he can manage to get us back in time. Then, with the knowledge Braham has to recreate the immaculate conception, we can kickstart the whole thing? I know the mythology behind Christianity, you and Thea have better insight into the human mind both then and now… Do you see where this is all going?” Morgan says, excitement lighting up her entire being.
“Hold up. I don’t mean to be a big party pooper and rain on this parade, but what about the fifth you keep reminding us about?” I say.
Morgan sits down in the chair and places her hands on her cheeks, then drags her fingertips down to her jaw. “You’re right. I’d forgotten all about that. Dammit.”
Bea clutches at the edge of the pew, taking a few moments to regain her balance as she painstakingly stands up. Without a word, she hobbles her way over to Morgan and places a hand on her back.
“I wouldn’t worry so much, dear. Everything will sort itself out in due time. You have a good plan going here. You really do. You need to move forward confidently. I have no doubt everything will clear itself up by the end,” she says.
Morgan looks up, her eyes glassy. “I sure hope you're right, because if I'm wrong about this…”
“No—Bea’s right. We don't have time to second-guess ourselves. Twenty-some odd hours, remember?” I say, standing up. “Maybe along the way, the fifth will make him or herself known. We’ve all kinda shown up in our own time, right?”
Morgan nods.
“Okay, so here's my thought on this deal. If we're going back in time to people who are little bit more primitive, at least we have the advantage. We know a helluva lot they won’t and we’ll be able to hide the stuff we don’t. People are innately gullible. They want to be led—and to be told a really good story. We just need to give it to them. Who better than us, thanks to your special insight?”
A lopsided smile emerges on Morgan’s face. “Do you really believe all that?”
I shrug. “Sure, why not? If we make a big enough of a spectacle—make sure they know Jesus’s mother was still a virgin when she got pregnant—the story will spread like wildfire. People haven’t changed much. They’ll be all about that juicy gossip.”
“True,” Morgan says, perking up a bit. “All right, so who goes back to make this happen?”
“I think we should all go,” I say. “First of all, who wouldn’t love to see the world two millennia ago? I mean, really? Besides, we each have our strengths. We’d be smarter to stick together to accomplish our mission. Where one lacks details, the other can pick up.”
“A very excellent point, and I agree if this is a consciousness-leap thing,” Bea says. “But goodness me, I can barely make it from here to the toilet without a back spasm. If going back in time means taking this body, I think I’ll have to sit it out. But you all go on ahead. I’ll teach you all you need to know.”
“I have to admit, I still have a tiny problem with this grandiose plan,” I say, taking a deep breath. “I still feel like I’m living in part of a dream. There are moments when I’m totally invested and things make sense, but then other times, I feel like I haven’t fully woken up yet. Does that even make sense? I would have thought by now, things would have really clicked.”
“Maybe this is your test of faith,” Morgan says. “You’re an atheist, chosen to be an angelic protector of a reality that’s falling apart. One that could mean the obliteration of the entire set of realities. That’s some heavy stuff to digest.”
“The universe has a sick sense of humor, that’s for sure,” I mutter.
Morgan laughs. “Indeed it does.”
Bea sits down beside Morgan, groaning as her butt hits the wooden seat.
“We’ll need to do some research on the culture, not to mention outfits of the region and time frame, so you can blend in. At least, until you want to be noticed. We'll need the equipment for the in vitro fertilization, unless Braham can figure out how to make it there. Once those men get back, we’ll have to get everyone on
the same page.”
“Luckily, we have a great reference point to get us started,” Morgan says. “I have a Bible here somewhere. That’s the sacred text Christians base everything off of. We can use it as our guide. Bea, do you want to take a look and see if you can gather any information and put it into historical context?”
“I can make mud outta dirt and water,” she says.
Morgan grins, then walks to a stack of books to the right of the altar and comes back with a large red tome.
“Here, have a look,” she says, handing it to me.
“I have to admit, it does seem like the plan is coming together nicely,” I say, despite myself.
“It would be nice if it is. Let's just hope our worries about the fifth are unfounded,” Morgan sighs.
“Do you get any sense of who this person might be?” I ask, flipping absently through the thin, brittle pages.
Morgan shakes her head, “No. Who knows—maybe Bea was onto something. If this works out the way we hope, maybe the fifth will be our guide when we get there.”
Bea narrows her gaze and lets out a long, deliberate sigh.
“Oh, for heavens to Pete. I can’t take it anymore. Morgan, you can stop worrying about the fifth. There’s a damn good reason you can’t find her,” she chuffs.
“Okay, I’ll bite. Why do you say that?” Morgan asks.
“Because you should be looking in the mirror, young lady,” Bea says with the wave of her hand. “I swear, I work with the chronically blind.”
14
Braham
Gabe takes the lead, and we follow him into the kitchen.
“So what's this veil-walking thing?” Mike asks, scratching at his temple. “Can any of us do it, or is this a special thing for just you?”
“It has been my experience that all angels are capable of it,” Gabe says.
I shoot Mike a sideways glance. If this is new to him, he’s certainly going to be in for a wild ride. I know I was.
“All right, so how do we get started?” Mike asks.
“Give me your hand,” Gabe offers, extending his right arm.
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