The Belial Search

by R. D. Brady

  Aaliyah couldn’t help but smile as well. Aaliyah had raised Noriko since she was a baby. At Honu Keiki, children were raised by teachers, not biological parents. Due to her commitments with the Naacal, Aaliyah had been allowed only one child to raise. Noriko had come to her when she was only three months old, and Aaliyah could not have loved her more even if she had been born to her.

  “I’m coming,” Aaliyah said. Noriko would be teaching some of the children today, and Aaliyah knew she was excited about it. Aaliyah was, too. Noriko was a natural with children. To be honest, she was a natural with everyone.

  The sound of running feet caused her to turn toward the temple. Located in the center of the island, it was a step pyramid over a hundred feet high. It was the meeting place for the Naacal, and also where the priestess spent most of her time, although she had another residence among the houses of Honu Keiki.

  Aaliyah saw a dozen men and women of the Guard running in formation from the temple toward the docks. She quickly stepped to the side, her heart pounding. The Guard’s dark clothes stood in stark contrast to the lighter styles of the rest of the inhabitants. Violence and crime were not a common part of the landscape, but the Guard was there for the rare moments when they occurred. Despite the infrequent call for them, the size of the Guard had swelled in recent years.

  Aaliyah bowed her head as the Guard went past. Off on another mission. People rarely left the island, and certainly not in numbers. In fact, there were some, like Ioane, who had never left. But lately, there had been more and more urgency in the Guard, and it was not unusual for them to leave for days at a time.

  Something was going on. As a member of the Naacal, Aaliyah should have been privy to it. But none of the Naacal save the priestess knew what the Guard was up to.

  Aaliyah raised her head again as the rear of the muscular group passed. They carried their usual staff weapons, but she noted that most also had guns in holsters. Aaliyah’s mouth fell open. Guns? Since when do the Guard use guns?

  Shaken, Aaliyah turned to watch them head for the wharf. Most of the citizens had stopped to do the same. Whatever was going on was dangerous. Why else would they send the Guard out with guns?

  A wind blew across the square, and clouds floated in front of the sun. Even as she told herself it was just a coincidence that the sky darkened at that moment, it still felt like an omen.

  Aaliyah wrapped her arms around herself. Change was coming, and she didn’t think it was going to be for the better.

  CHAPTER 43

  Ann Arbor, Michigan

  Laney and Jen were back in their car heading for the airport.

  “So what do you think?” Jen asked.

  Laney sighed. “I think he’s a nice man who’s been targeted for what he is, not who he is.”

  “Do you think Gerard was telling the truth?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, it’s Gerard. But at the same time, I can’t see any connection between Xavier and Gerard. They’ve never met, and they don’t exactly seem like bowling buddies.”

  Jen was quiet for a moment. “Whenever I think of the Fallen, I think of them as evil. And that, when we come across one, we need to be ready to fight. It’s disconcerting when they turn out to be decent people. At the same time, I think of Lou or the other kids at the school. I don’t think of them in those terms. They’re just kids.”

  Laney’s mind drifted back to Cain and his attitude toward her. There had been nothing hostile in it. He had been decent. “It’s all sorts of gray these days, isn’t it?”

  Jen nodded. “Yeah. I liked it better when things were black and white. It definitely made things easier. So—what do we do now?”

  “I don’t know. I sent Henry the tattoo. He’ll run a search. But that’s a pretty common flower in that part of the world.”

  “Henry, not Jake?”

  Laney shrugged.

  “How are you two doing?”

  Laney smiled. “Better. We talked. I mean, we’re not back to where we were exactly, but we’re heading there.”

  “Well, you’ve both been through a lot.”

  We still are, Laney thought, but she kept silent. “You know, Xavier said he thought the church knew what he was. They arranged for him to move almost as soon as she reported the attack.”

  Jen raised her eyebrows. “The church knows? Has Patrick said anything to them?”

  “I’m not sure. I mean, he’s worked as the liaison at the Montana site. But the SIA arranged for Xavier to work at a church in Indianapolis forty years ago—which means they’ve known about the SIA for decades.”

  “It’s not really a surprise the church knows, though, is it? I mean, as an organization, they’re full of secrets. The Vatican vaults alone could probably answer questions that have been plaguing mankind for generations.”

  Laney knew Jen was probably right. Conspiracy theorists had long held that the Vatican archives should be opened for the benefit of mankind. Everything from information on extraterrestrial visits to the fountain of youth had been theorized to exist in the bowels of the Vatican. And even without those extreme possibilities, the Vatican archives certainly held enough verified documents to keep people enthralled, including records on the Knights Templar, the Inquisition, Pope Joan, and the list went on and on.

  “Are we going to launch an offensive against the Roman Catholic Church to see what they know?” Jen asked.

  Laney laughed. “How about we save that for next week? We have enough on our plate this week.”

  Laney had meant the words in a lighthearted way, but the truth of them crashed into her. By next week, they would have either saved someone from death or failed. “We need to win, Jen.”

  Jen paused. “It won’t be your fault if we don’t.”

  “I know that, rationally, but—”

  “Victoria’s death wasn’t your fault either.”

  “Why bring her up?”

  “Because she’s never far from our thoughts. I’ve seen you struggle these last few months. I know you’re putting on a show to make everyone think you’re fine. But I see what’s going on behind the curtain.”

  Laney turned to look out the window. She took a stuttering breath. “It just hurts,” she said quietly.

  Jen reached over and squeezed Laney’s hand. “And it should. It shows how much you care. But it still doesn’t mean it’s your fault. Place the blame where it belongs: on Samyaza and her group.”

  Victoria’s words drifted through her mind. Each time we meet, I am amazed by your strength and your desire to fight the good fight, no matter the odds. Your heart is your strongest weapon. Never forget that.

  Laney’s heart clenched. She missed her. She had wanted the chance to know her better. Victoria had been so strong. She had faced lifetime after lifetime of combating the Fallen. She had a strength Laney couldn’t even begin to fathom.

  You have the same strength. You are my daughter.

  Laney stilled. She’d heard the words in Victoria’s voice, even though Laney knew it was only her imagination. But it was something Victoria would have said.

  “So, what’s the next step?” Jen asked, forcing some levity into her tone.

  “We head back to the boys and hope they can find something about that tattoo,” Laney said.

  “And if they can’t?”

  Laney shook her head. “Then I have no idea.”

  CHAPTER 44

  Baltimore, Maryland

  Jen dropped Laney off at the estate before heading over to the Chandler School. Jen had a standing dinner date with Lou once a week.

  Laney stopped by Jake’s office to see what he had learned. She paused at the door. Jake was bent over his desk, his hair falling forward. It was longer than she’d ever seen it before, and she liked it. He frowned and then looked up.

  She raised her eyebrows. “So, psychics?”

  He grinned. “You’re really enjoying me doing this particular line of research, aren’t you?”

  She smiled as she took a seat in one of
the chairs in front of his desk. “I really am.”

  “How’d it go?”

  “Good.” Laney pictured Xavier. As she was leaving, he had told her that if she needed any help, to give him a call and he’d do all he could. “He’s actually a nice guy.”

  “No problems?”

  “Nope—no gunfire, no ninjas, all in all incredibly boring. And the lack of fighting means I’ll still have to go for a run later.” She paused. “You’re handling it pretty well.”

  “I’m trying, Lanes. I’m always going to worry. But I’m trying to be a little less…”

  “Neurotic?” She offered.

  “I was going to say concerned.”

  She shrugged. “Well, tomay-to tomah-to. Anyway, back to psychics. What did you find out about psychic abilities?”

  Jake grimaced. “Pretty much what I expected to find—very little by way of scientific verification. They never seem to be able to pass any kind of laboratory experiment. There always seem to be a couple of high profile individuals in the news and making the rounds on the talk show circuit, but eventually, those guys all seem to be exposed as fakes. And of course there are the more well-known psychics—Ingo Swann, Joseph McMoneagle, Edgar Cayce, and a few others. But I just can’t find anyone that’s been fully vetted and supported.”

  “So there’s nothing?”

  “I wouldn’t say that. We know Cayce was right more than he was wrong. And there’s certainly been no lack of government testing.”

  “Testing?”

  Jake nodded. “Many government agencies have tested the efficacy of psychic abilities, particularly remote viewing. The Russians’ program was probably the worst kept secret, but it wasn’t just them. In the 1970s, the CIA sponsored a program at Stanford called the Stargate Project. There were hits, but no one could demonstrate that it wasn’t just dumb luck. And in the 1940s, the Canadian government did ESP tests on aboriginal children between the ages of six and twenty. The poor kids had already been ripped from their families and forced into a boarding school.”

  Laney cringed thinking of the same types of schools in the United States—re-education schools for Native American children designed to remove the taint of their native lifestyles from them. The creator of one of the first schools, Richard Pratt, succinctly summed up the goal of the schools: “Kill the Indian in him, and save the man.” The United States government operated over a hundred of the schools beginning in the 1870s. Abuse and a complete denigration of the Native American life were hallmarks of the curriculum.

  “Did any of these government tests uncover evidence of psychic abilities?” Laney asked.

  “Nothing solid, no, but of course they’re not the only ones researching. One article has suggested that psychic abilities are actually the result of a neurological condition called synesthesia. Basically, the brain is cross-wired, resulting in a different way of viewing the world. It can be caused by head injury or it may be inherited. But there are also some who suggest that you can, in essence, re-wire your brain through deep meditation.”

  “Deep meditation, like Uncle Patrick thinks the Lemurians and the Honu Keiki folks engage in.”

  Jake nodded. “Yup.”

  Laney knew that a person’s brain patterns could be changed through actions or thoughts. While most people tended to think of our brains as hardwired, the reality was that they had a great deal of plasticity to them. The brain reacts to stimuli and the environment, and those reactions had been demonstrated to literally change the pathways within the brain.

  “So, overall, what do you think?” Laney asked.

  Jake paused. “I think the world and humans are incredibly complex. And I think not everything can be easily replicated in a lab. So I think psychic abilities are possible. I mean, after the Cayce links we’ve found, and your abilities with Cleo, I don’t see how there’s any way to doubt it.”

  Laney stood up. “Well, okay. I don’t know if that helps or not, but if you’re not ruling it out, I guess the rest of us can’t either. I have to go talk to Henry.”

  “Hold on a sec,” Jake said, walking around the desk.

  Laney paused at the door.

  Jake placed his hand around her waist and pulled her close. “I’m glad you’re back and in one piece.” He leaned his head down and kissed her.

  Laney wrapped her arms around him and leaned into the kiss. Finally, she broke away, trying to remember where she was going.

  Jake pushed her toward the door. “Go see Henry.”

  She smiled as she walked down the hall toward Henry’s office. She knocked on the door, still feeling the warmth of Jake’s kiss.

  Henry looked up from his desk. “Hey. How’d it go?”

  “Uh, good,” she said, giving him a quick run-down. “Did you manage to link the tattoo with the cult?”

  Henry shook his head. “No. But honestly, there’s just so little out there on the group. They don’t even have a website. Most of the what we ‘know’ is actually just guesswork on the part of journalists trying to figure them out.”

  “So what do we ‘know’ about the Honu Keiki?”

  “We know they are run by a priestess who is chosen by the group and given a lifetime appointment. She has six supporters, and together they make up the Naacal.”

  “Seven again,” Laney murmured.

  “What do you mean?” Henry asked.

  “Churchward spoke of a Council of Seven leading the Lemurians. And ancient teachers all seemed to come in a group of seven. Even the cave in Ecuador had a table with seven chairs. The Shuar down in Ecuador had spoken of seven ships that arrived with seven teachers. There were seven gods in Greek mythology. In India, seven helpers. The advanced peoples of a myriad of myths and legends always seem to come in the number seven.”

  “It’s possible they just copied the style of governance from an ancient group.”

  Laney nodded. “That’s true. It’s just interesting. What else do you have?”

  “As you know, they have virtually no contact with the outside world, other than the occasional boat that runs supplies to and from the island. And, rarely, a member is banished.”

  “Do we know the reasons for the banishments?”

  “No. The former members are incredibly close-lipped. Some have speculated they have family back on the island that they may be worried about. Others say they’re just hoping to be allowed back in.”

  “Well, that’s not much help.”

  “I do have one more thing.” Henry nodded at his screen. “One journalist managed to sneak in. He was caught pretty quickly, but he did manage to smuggle out some pictures. Before he got the chance to go public with them, he was smacked with one lawsuit after the next. It was made clear his life would be a living hell if he let these pictures get out. But…” He grinned. “I managed to get a copy.”

  Laney walked around the desk and stood on his side. “And how’d you manage that?”

  “I have my ways.”

  Laney laughed. “Fine, keep your secrets, big brother.”

  She leaned forward to get a better look at the images on the screen. Nothing really stood out—they were just pictures of strangers standing together, smiling, walking around. It was like looking at someone else’s vacation photos. They were pretty but had no real meaning.

  But what she could tell was that Honu Keiki’s property was gorgeous—giant palm trees, trails cutting through lush foliage. The houses reminded Laney of what she’d seen the one time she’d been to Maui for a conference. Most were one level with a lanai outback. Some had a few steps leading to the front door, but for most that wasn’t necessary. Big windows adorned the front of most of the homes, which were primarily white, blue, or tan—no dark colors. Honestly, it looked like any other Hawaiian neighborhood except there were no roads and no garages. Apparently cars weren’t part of daily life. Everyone was in sandals or flip-flops and casual clothes, and no one looked unhappy. It looked like a corporate retreat.

  She scanned through the photos, growing m
ore and more frustrated. There’s nothing here.

  “There’s an awful lot of cats,” Henry muttered.

  “That’s not surprising,” Laney murmured, still looking for something that might tie this group to the attacks.

  “Why not?”

  “Huh?” she asked.

  Henry gestured to the screen. “The cats?”

  “Cats were revered in the many ancient civilizations. For instance, the Egyptian goddess Bastet had feline features. She was the protector of the home, protector against evil and disease.” Laney paused. “Actually, now that I think about it, those civilizations were all along the Pacific Rim—Japan, China, India. All places where the descendants of Mu allegedly went.”

  “So you think this is proof?”

  Laney smiled. “I think it’s interesting. Proof is a different story.”

  Henry raised an eyebrow. “Seems there’s a lot about them that’s interesting.”

  “So there is. And maybe enough interesting facts can turn into some proof.”

  She turned her attention back to the images. There had to be a way to—

  Her gaze flew back to a picture on the left of the screen. She sucked in a breath and pointed. “Can you zoom in on that one?”

  Henry clicked on the picture, and the image expanded until it took up half the screen. It was a shot of a man, a woman, and a child standing in front of a sign, with a large palm tree overhead and a bloom of flowers. The man was blond, the woman had dark hair, and the girl had light brown. One might think they were a family, but they didn’t look alike.

  “Do you recognize someone?” Henry asked.

  Laney shook her head. “Not someone—something.” She pointed to the sign. The people were blocking any lettering, but most of an image was still visible: three green stripes on a white background, with what looked like vines encircling each stripe, and on the left, a pink lotus flower.