9 Incarnate: Caitlin Diggs Series 4

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9 Incarnate: Caitlin Diggs Series 4 Page 6

by Gary Starta


  Chuck helped me to my feet with one arm and warded off a throng of onlookers with the other. His gaze screamed for answers. I knew the questions. Why had I been chosen for this paranormal bonding? What did Nephthys mean about finding a long, lost sister? I could guess that this was about my supposed connection to Isis. And at that moment, I believed it was she who spoke. I am here now. Thank you. Succinct, but it spoke volumes. If I wasn’t Isis herself, I was sharing a body, a consciousness with her… I still wondered—how?

  Before I could continue my thought, Nephthys was back at the podium, addressing the crowd. She urged us to take seats. We all did in a haphazard surreal, slow-mo type of acquiescence. The action fueled the reporters’ lust as they banged away at the screens like rabid dogs seeking a hunt. With a sweeping motion of her arm, Nephthys pointed a hand at them. It resembled a cop’s, instructing them to stop—they deceased begrudgingly. I could hear their questions without the aid of telepathy. Did they suspect the leaders of their nation had been mind-spelled? Forced to obey the beautiful winged woman with the green-tinted skin and golden eyes? I had doubts despite the calm feeling instilled in me moments earlier. I pictured any semblance of solitude evaporating, knowing full well the media would want to interview me about my bizarre aerial encounter with an Egyptian goddess. My life was changed forever—once again.

  I found my fingernails digging into my thigh as a smile formed on Nephthys’s lips. Satisfied that peace had been returned, she was ready to speak. I suspected my piece of mind was about to be shattered like a dropped dinner plate. I braced myself to be exposed.

  Nephthys seemed to enjoy the attention, extending the moment of anticipation a moment longer. She pointed to her face with an index finger and waited for quizzical expressions to form on everyone’s faces. I glanced at Chuck who was engaged in surveillance. FBI to the core, he managed to mimic our peer’s perplexed panorama of wonder—all the while eyeballing them, attempting to determine if they were indeed under a hypnotic spell. We caught each others’ eyes and in that moment I took his hand into mine. Behind the worry lines his core expression told me we’d find answers to this enigma—together. I didn’t think my telepathy had anything to do with this assumption which was comforting because if Isis and I were now officially one, she was reading all my thoughts. I never had doubts that my connection with this Egyptian deity was anything but benevolent, but now that her peers were back in town I had to be skeptical as both an investigator and a human being.

  Finally, Nephthys began. “The green color of my skin must be odd to you. I welcome your curiosity.” She again pointed an index finger at her cheek. Despite the way her skin color and golden eyes made her lizard-like, she was model-like in every other way with high cheek bones, skinny waist and long legs. If she was reptilian, she was a beautiful one. We were all stunned into silence by her appearance with the exception of some chattering reporters from beyond the gates. Nephthys, nonplussed, continued her thought. “It is a natural result of my journey—the Ennead’s journey—back to our home. Just as your confusion about our reappearance puzzles you now, that confusion will fade along with the odd pigmentation of my skin. In time, I will wear the same color skin shared by many of your sisters and brothers. In time, you will become eager to share our wisdom and guidance to help you attain a greater quality of life. History paints the Egyptians as a culture obsessed with death and the afterlife, yet we the Ennead are here now to show you otherwise. Life is precious. Your planet is precious. The Ennead are now reconnected thanks to the assistance of your Agent Diggs. She re-introduced me with my sister Isis who had been separated from us for millennia.” She paused to nod at me. I fought the urge to give in to a complete loss of my placid Bureau masking. My arms and legs wanted to tremble, my stomach lurched as if I was on a rollercoaster, yet I forced a closed-lipped smile for the safety of us all. I kept coaching myself to maintain a compliant persona, one that would evoke pleasure at the thought of aiding the Ennead. I knew our country’s leaders, not to mention the media, required a quiet acceptance of my role. I lifted my hand in acknowledgement and bowed my head to sell my act. True concern for the welfare of my fellow beings engulfed me, allowing me to behave unnaturally for their benefit. But a shiver ran up and down my spine when I contemplated what Nephthys’s reaction might be to resistance. What would she do to us? The Ennead were all-powerful, no doubt. Beyond their capability to harm us, as an investigator, I needed to keep all channels of communication open with her. I still believed Nephthys and her entourage to be our best hope of solving the demon disappearance not to mention our president’s murder. In other words, I would play nice with my best suspect.

  Yet Nephthys revealed nothing else to connect with me Isis or explain why I was a tool for the Ennead’s reemergence. What happened next put an unwelcome spotlight on my dear friend and partner.

  Nephthys addressed Briana by name confirming my suspicion that she could read us all as if we were books. It was the only explanation. And if so, she could read through my veiled compliance as well. But it wasn’t in her interest to beset our new alliance. She proved this by thanking Briana for her assistance which revealed a history of my partner I could never have anticipated.

  “As a water witch, you and your consorts aided our arrival. We are indebted to you.” She bowed her head and clasped her hands together. “As we are indebted to all human beings…”

  I stole a glance at Briana. Normally pasty, her skin was particularly void of pallor at this instant. With pursed lips, Briana offered a slight nod to the goddess, but there was none of the usual warmth in my friend’s eyes. She was complying for safety sake.

  You might wonder why a seemingly innocent revelation would induce such discomfort among us. It was because a water witch manipulated the four elements, in this case, water. It was a dangerous form of magic Briana detested with risk often outweighing benefits. I began to understand her basis for abhorrence. Something must have happened in her past to force her to dismiss her practice. The epiphany that her magical prowess had aided the Ennead’s pilgrimage to our blessed homeland could be nothing short of devastating. Briana obviously had issues with the Ennead’s arrival. Naturally attuned to nature, Briana’s initial reaction to Nephthys was nothing short of defensive. I’d need to consult with my Wiccan partner to learn anything which might explain such a negative emotional reaction. Was it simply because the Ennead had forced her hand to perform a magic she considered to be black? Or was there something more innate which might give us a concrete platform on which to base our prejudice?

  Nonetheless, the moment provided a diversion. I could breathe a bit more easily with the spotlight taken off of me. I feared an explanation for my connection with the Ennead—with Isis in particular—could only stem from my past. And that past had taken place in an alternate universe where I was a different Agent Diggs. If my identity was to be exposed by the Ennead, might not every citizen of this world suspect me of duplicity? Had I come to this world to impersonate their Agent Diggs as part of an agenda to return the Egyptian gods to a living state? At this juncture, my empathic abilities told me we all maintained an underlying uncertainty about the purpose of the Ennead’s return. It was as if some kind of barrier had been installed in our consciousness to prevent these doubts from surfacing. I came to realize that as an investigator I was now suspect because of this supposed connection. How could I ever be entirely objective with my investigation now that I was skewed myself?

  This forced me to try to answer how this could be. If we were all somehow altered in our thinking, what could have caused this? I recalled the white light emanating from Nephthys’s eyes just before our telepathic connection. There were some military officers attempting to intervene, to thwart the connection because they were trained to behave in a suspicious manner. Those trained minds had been detoured for a moment by the light which seemed to force an aberration from normal behavior. Was the light affecting our biochemistry? I would need a scientist to sort this out. Right now, the golden e
yes of Nephthys were filled with a determination to continue her speech. My empathic sensitivity told me she believed continued discourse would allay our fears.

  She introduced a doctrine I’d never associated with the Egyptian culture, called Reunification of Earth and People which translated to the acronym R.E.A.P. Ominous on a linguistic level, the acronym spelled a feared word among the living, the word, reap. It brought the image of the grim reaper to mind. Because I would later learn Nephthys was associated with death and funerals, I found her interest in the living peculiar.

  She performed as any great orator, gifted in the deliverance of idea and thought by signaling her audience every now and then with a thoughtful expression or emphatic gesture. But she gave no room for interaction.

  “By strengthening the connection between people and planet we all will benefit. The Ennead’s continuous bond with nature made it possible for us to return to you. We promise our presence will benefit you. Rest assured, we are not here to construct a new Egypt, nor are we here to demand devotion. We simply will act in an advisory capacity. Future meetings will provide greater detail for the populace. I hope this government will allow its media to report on the Ennead’s progress so any assistance we provide, either by technology or experience, can be judged openly without need for closed door sessions. In closing, we only ask that you open your doors to us and be receptive to our assistance. Ensuring the peoples’ connection with the planet is our most treasured goal and will be our sole reward. Now, I’m sure you have many questions. Be certain the Ennead values your input. For that reason, I will entertain a brief Q&A session.”

  I had a lot to wonder about. Besides their agenda, how did the Ennead become so versed in modern articulation? I could imagine a CEO or senator in place of Nephthys. I could discern no difference. Corporate heads and politicians only asked for the public’s emotional support at the beginning. It was only after politicians were elected or CEO’s became empowered by investors that tangible contributions were sought. Could Nephthys or the Ennead be so philanthropic to ask for no material or monetary gain? I was taught as a Christian that God epitomized benevolence. But then I watched a whole lot of movies and read a boatload of books proving otherwise. In the world of fiction, religious zealots were to be feared if not abhorred.

  The Q&A session began with a member of the Joint Chiefs of Staff asking if human beings would be expected to convert. Many might equate conversion with religious practice, but the skeptic in me associated in on some deeper, darker cellular transformation. Yes, I had seen way too many movies. And no question, I so needed to stop my rambling mind because I could not be sure if Isis or the entire Ennead might be privy to my thoughts.

  “No. The Ennead respects everyone’s right to observe freely. We do believe religious syncretism can be beneficial when multiple belief systems are blended for a better religion.”

  The same questioner countered Nephthys. “How can a religion be made better? Isn’t religion a stable paradigm?”

  “It makes for an interesting debate. We always welcome free discourse. Ultimately, the Ennead aren’t here to compete.”

  The next question came from a female politician and it really hit home for my investigation.

  “Can the Ennead assist our planet’s investigation into the death of U.S. President Fleming and the disappearance of the demon population?”

  I observed Nephthys with an investigator’s eye, watching for any show of deception, be it a blink of the eye, twitch of the lip or alteration in breathing. But if Nephthys truly was the reconstitution of the Egyptian goddess, I wasn’t certain such a being could be caught in a lie.

  Her answer was very PC. “We will assist all nations in any endeavor to find the truth, whether it is theological or judiciary in nature. Peace of mind is paramount in securing harmony with nature. As it is our main purpose to promote a harmonious relationship between people and the Earth, we are obligated to share any resources which promote peace and peace of mind.”

  The answer was roundabout but implied that some misdeed had taken place. I would have to secure a private interview with Nephthys for the purpose of my investigation. I would need to press her more, to see if a goddess was capable of flinching. I also required answers about my past, and my nature. But I required those answers to be given confidentially without this world becoming privy to my true identity. Once again, I chided myself. I was being selective on what I wanted exposed, a dangerous and unseemly hypocrisy for a Bureau agent to take in any universe.

  * * * *

  After the Q&A, I was successful in scoring a private interview with Nephthys thanks to Assistant Director Grant. I had believed Deputy Director Seals would be wary of my involvement in the investigation after learning I had a connection—albeit an unexplained one—with the Ennead. But shifty Seals proved true to form, believing a double agent to be a most effective weapon. Damn Seals! He could have at least argued I was being used against my will. Universes may change, but some characteristics of people remain the same, alternate bodies or not.

  I did come to the conclusion that Seals was right on some small level. Although I still was not this universe’s Agent Diggs, I would sacrifice myself—as my alternate had done—in order to protect this world. From now on, my connection with Isis and the gods would be used to empower my investigation rather than fuel my guilty conscience.

  Observation of how other cultures were handling divine intervention confirmed my belief that all of our beliefs had been manipulated.

  The ready acceptance set off many red flags.

  In the country of Georgia, the God Seth danced merrily with elders in the Caucasus Mountains. Here, many people live to well over a hundred years of age. Were these octogenarians just happy to dance with a god or were they under some form of glamour?

  In Mexico, Atum, the sun god, joined in local festivals, breaking piñatas with children.

  Osirus, Isis’s husband, visited the Palace Museum in China’s Forbidden City.

  Similarly, welcome mats were extended to the remainder of the Ennead including Geb in Africa, Shu in London, Tefnut in Japan—after the smoke of a tank attack dissipated—and Nut made it old home week visiting Egypt’s celebrated Nile River.

  The Ennead were here. Was it because of me? These two sentences promised troubled sleep. I would need my rest to interview Nephthys tomorrow. But rest seemed improbable. Come tomorrow morning, I promised my partner Briana we would talk about our pasts. Briana’s facial expressions gave me reason to believe she would be less than happy about dredging up her past as a water witch. Before we bid each other good night, something other than facial gesturing conspired to make me toss and turn the whole night through. She hugged me and simply stated, “Caitlin, I have blood on my hands…”

  Chapter 8

  Past Lives

  I could feel the blast of cold air and sting of desperation in her words. As if I were there with her, Briana guided me through her previous attempt at elemental magic. It was winter, seventeen years ago. The place, a tree-lined byway somewhere in Virginia, a desolate stretch of road which would have been unmemorable except for the tragic event which would transpire.

  As her tale unfolded, I stood by her—in my mind’s eye, of course. She had exited her car, her heart beating rapidly. A sedan off road, adrift in a snow bank, had necessitated her stop. Red tail lights illuminated from a mound of snow, tires spun in a futile attempt to free the vehicle. Briana yelled for the driver to cease the revving.

  “At least I knew at that point, the driver was okay,” Briana explained. “He told me his car had jackknifed off the road into the bank and couldn’t be freed despite rocking the vehicle back and forth and applying sand underneath the wheels. I realized nothing short of a tow truck would get the car out of the jam. At that realization, the man pleaded for assistance, noting his pregnant wife was injured in the crash. He feared the incident had induced early labor. I knew lives were on the line.”

  She paused to sip tea. We were scrunched int
o a tiny booth at Jay’s Café, a great twenty-four-seven coffee house Briana had recommended. I fell in love with it immediately. Any investigator who worked odd hours would. Today, as dawn approached, we sought refuge there. I skipped out of my house in darkness expecting a deluge of media to arrive come light. I left out extra hard food and water to accommodate Bastet. I also left lights on to give reporters the idea that I was at home; hopefully, they wouldn’t realize Jay’s was such a popular haunt for cops. I was compelled to hear Briana’s story both as an investigator and friend. But no matter which hat I wore, I concluded the ending of her story wouldn’t bode well for someone.

  “That’s when I decided to use my calling, my gift as a water witch,” Briana continued. “Witches who can manipulate the elements are born with this ability. It wasn’t a skill I really had to acquire, Caitlin. In fact, at that time, I believed I would be a water witch for life.” Her hand rose to her cheek. I tried to give support by resting my hand on her shoulder. Yes, we were that close together in our cramped booth.

  She took my hand from her shoulder, squeezed it and then let go.

  “I have to relive this story each I time I tell it; and I need to walk alone with my memory. It’s one small way I can force myself to live with what I’ve done, to bear the consequences of my action.”

  I nodded. I wouldn’t lend any more support. Internally, I cringed, fearing the ending to her tale. But the investigator in me required that ending, no matter how painful it might be to both of us.

  “So I worked my magic…carefully. I would be removing the snow from the immediate vicinity of the vehicle and I didn’t want the car moving along with the snow because in the car’s taillights I could discern an embankment. I could easily just push the entire car off the hill; that’s how powerful elemental magic is. I could hear the woman moaning as I prepared. No margin for error. The magic was consuming. Once I began I would be helpless to stop it. I would be drained from my actions. I envisioned the snow as if it were dust on a table, ready to be whisked away. Before I knew it, it was gone. The car was free. The driver navigated his way back to the road. As I approached him, I heard the snow avalanching down the hill, taking branches and rocks along with it. The bustle produced snapping sounds. By this time, I was close enough to speak to the driver. I wanted to be sure he was able to drive to the hospital. Before he could answer, another snapping sound ensued. But this one echoed off the hill and was far more encompassing. I knew that sound, it was ice shattering. There was a pond below that hill. The snow and debris had careened onto it, breaking the ice. A human cry, shrill and desperate, came next. There was a boy skating on that pond. I signaled the driver to go. He needed to get his wife medical attention. I ran to my car to retrieve my cell and call 911. I had nothing left in me to save the boy now. Even human effort would have failed police would later tell me. The snow drift that had trapped the car was now blocking any path down that hill. Caitlin, I was furious at myself; for my arrogance. Elemental magic is so dangerous because it removes your sense of smell, hearing and even psychic awareness while it’s being performed. I had never realized the boy was there. It is also the reason why I unwittingly performed this magic to bring Nephthys to land. I was most likely performing it while I talked to you on the phone, totally unaware. Now, do you see how dangerous this magic is?”

 

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