by JB Penrose
“Obviously, we would like to understand more about this Oracle that commands you and this city Iscar has created for our daughter,” James agreed. “You can understand our first concern is for her safety.”
“Of course,” Gabriel smiled. “But you have no need for concern. We believe in God’s work, the Masters’ lessons, and the Spokesmon’s dreams. Delphi was created from a dream, and the mountain’s beauty and purity have been undisturbed through centuries.”
“That sounds sensational,” James thought aloud with a sarcastic tone. “I can’t wait to hear more.”
A timer from the kitchen area cut through the air like a shrill whistle. Mags shook her head in silent disagreement as she stood. “I’ve heard enough for the moment; I need to think this through. Peter? Have you and Gabriel eaten?”
At the thought of food, his stomach rumbled and he realized it had been more than a day since he’d had food. “No, we haven’t stopped since – well, since yesterday morning. Thanks.” Peter stood. “I’ll help; it will take my mind off things.”
“Before we get off the subject I’d like to ask Gabriel a few more questions.”
“Certainly,” Gabriel answered. “What would you like to know?”
“First,” James paused, “I’d like to know what Aaron’s psi-talent would be, and how long has he been there – in Delphi?”
“Aaron is the Master Healer. Not that there is much sickness but his knowledge of herbs and the combinations of those ingredients has greatly complimented the efforts of our Citizens traveling outside the city, and have proven helpful in maintaining the health of villagers where our people live.”
“He always had a special understanding of plants,” James shrugged.
Mags barely said a word during the dinner preparation. Peter felt bad enough in bringing the news; the only thing he could think to say was I’m sorry.
“I will bring her back, Mags. I promise.” He knew she understood that, and he knew how hard it was for Rachel’s mother to lose her daughter, again.
“It’s not your fault, Peter. Don’t blame yourself.” Mags stopped in motion, thinking of her daughter. “I can’t even blame Iscar – he’s obviously planned this longer that we have imagined. But I blame myself for not preparing her; there are things she needs to know that I should have told her.”
“You will have that chance,” Peter assured her.
“I did have that chance, before the wedding,” Mags cried on his shoulder. “And I thought it could wait.”
“It will wait,” Peter said, “and you can tell her soon. I’ll bring her back, I promise,” he repeated.
Peter held her close and prayed for strength to flow through the both of them; all of them. The guilt of her kidnapping was twice as deep as his fear of her safety. Underestimating Iscar had been a costly mistake.
The simple meal of vegetables, rice, and bread was exactly what Peter needed for nourishment, although he wondered if Gabriel could sustain his strength on such lightweight food, his size was almost twice that of any of the Orygin’s crew. Conversation around the dinner table was a little more formal than it might have been without Gabriel sitting there, but the PriMajor tried hard to remain inconspicuous and rarely voiced a comment during the discussion going on around him.
“Did you have any trouble with Morrow?” Peter asked through the heavy silence.
The couple had returned from the launch site in the Grand Canyon to New Columbia with their friend Cardinal Lucas Jackson, driving a PROBE-Tech truck with the BGA Director bound and gagged in the cargo van. Frank Morrow would stand trial for treason of his attempt to steal the Aurora, as well as assault by taking Mags and James as hostages.
“That depends upon your definition of trouble,” James answered. “He was fairly quiet; although we were sure he feigned sleeping to listen in on our conversations. That made the trip a little boring since we might have otherwise enjoyed our adventure back in the States. It’s been a while since we were last here and the changes are enormous.”
Mags added, “Given the situation, we stopped only for food and fuel and drove straight through. Lucas made the arrangements to hand Morrow over to the police as soon as we arrived in town.”
With Gail’s help in retrieving information from Morrow’s computer, Peter and Rachel had passed along proof that Frank Morrow was involved with the One World Conference bombing which killed President-elect Young and his wife.
“But of course, none of this can be traced to Iscar!” Peter couldn’t help feeling stung by the double standard.
“The Septorian is a very careful man,” Gabriel admitted.
“The headlines were raging before we got here,” Mags noted. “How did that happen?” she asked. “Do you have ‘citizens’ here in town?”
“A few,” Gabriel admitted. “There are communication specialists working as freelance reporters who can plant a good story when diversion or attention is necessary.
“Communications?” Peter pressed him further. “What other kind of specialists are operating among us?”
“Computer technicians,” Gabriel told him, “and a few security staff that were given government positions when Morrow came into his position. All completely loyal to Delphi,” he added. “Not to the BGA Director.”
“That remains to be seen. Do you have citizens at PROBE-Tech?” Peter asked suspiciously.
For the first time, he watched Gabriel shift uncomfortably and it brought the others to the edge of their seat. “An elite few,” Gabriel confessed, “working for government officials in order to monitor the progress at PROBE-Tech through their office.”
“What other governments have allied with Iscar?” James wanted to know.
“Not with the government,” Gabriel explained, “but he has cultivated relationships with certain officials.”
“Certain officials?” Peter was suspicious. “Are any of those officials at PROBE-Tech?”
“Only one person has been able to pass the direct PROBE-Tech background check,” Gabriel was forced to admit.
“Who?” Peter demanded. It was a possibility Andrew and John had often discussed but never entertained. “Who does Iscar have working at PROBE-Tech?”
Gabriel was definitely uncomfortable with the question.
“Who is it? You tell me now or our association is finished!” Peter shouted at him. “Your oracle be damned!”
It was obvious from the look on his face Gabriel preferred not to reveal the spy, but the deafening silence that followed his announcement was even worse.
“Donnally Tompkins.”
“I don’t believe you,” Peter finally said.
Gabriel shrugged.
“What’s Donnally’s job for Iscar?” Peter wanted to know. “Was it his plan all along to launch on the Aurora? What’s he’s supposed to do there?”
“Donnally is on the Aurora?” Gabriel was genuinely surprised. “I don’t think the Septorian knows that.”
“How do you know that wasn’t his intention from the beginning?” James asked. “Iscar could never be trusted.”
“But Tompkins can be trusted,” Gabriel assured them. “He serves the Spokesmon. Our goal is to not intervene but simply monitor.”
“Maybe that’s supposed to make me feel better,” James said. “But Iscar certainly intervenes wherever he wants.”
“Donnally’s communications were infrequent,” Gabriel said. “His last contact was the discovery of the Spokesmon when she toured the Aurora with the – with Kerroon.”
It was his first indication of nervousness, and Peter needed to be sure Gabriel wasn’t lying to them.
“How did he know she was the Spokesmon?” Peter demanded. “Even I didn’t know it, then.”
“Donnally has always been perceptive to what is different in a situation,” Gabriel admitted. “Apparently, he thought she was quite different and the Septorian believed him correct in the matter.”
“Maybe you were just too close to see it, Peter.” Mags cover his hands with he
rs.
Peter’s head dropped into his hands. “I should have seen it. I’ve been looking for a thousand years! And because I didn’t see it, now I’m looking again.”
“I feel badly for Gail,” Mags admitted. “I hope she didn’t join the crew just because of her attraction to Donnally.”
“I’m sure it was not Donnally’s intention to join the crew either,” Gabriel told them. “He was supposed to remain at PROBE-Tech – to make it easier for the Septorian to gain access there after the launch.”
“Well then, he’s certainly foiled that plot,” James said. “We need a plan for ourselves. Peter, what do you think? Any ideas?”
“Not about finding Rachel,” he admitted sadly. “But John wanted you to step into his position at PROBE-Tech. He gave me the backup drives before he left,” Peter told him, “so PROBE-Tech can restore the information purged by the virus Iscar planted in the Conference computers.”
“You might not have heard, but the disintegration of that information has dissolved the peace agreement between some of the smaller nations who believed they were being left out of the process. It’s turning into a world-sized mess.”
“Of course it is,” Peter complained. “Iscar would have planned for nothing less. You’ll have to be the one to contact Hirundi Assad and restart the complete process.”
“He’ll be surprised to hear from us,” James said, “but it will be nice to see him again. I’m quite proud of our graduated students.”
“They have networked across the world,” Peter agreed. “John was always astonished to find their associations traveled in such powerful circles. I hope that benefits us now.”
“We’ve not seen him since he left the school at graduation,” Mags lamented. “But I’m sure we’ll find Hirundi’s contact information in the PROBE-Tech computers.”
“You can find anything in there,” James laughed. “Andrew has left nothing out of that bank of information. The trick is to know how to ask for it.”
“I’ll leave that to you. I don’t want to waste too much time before I, we,” he corrected himself and noted Gabriel’s sigh of relief, “start off for Delphi. Gabriel says it could take more than a week to reach them.”
Mags set her fork down sharply against the plate. “Just where is this place?”
“It’s not traversing the distance to the Himalayas that will take our time,” Gabriel told her. “The mountain protects itself in ways that could be tricky, or even dangerous.”
“There’s also Iscar’s inner-circle of psi-talents,” Peter explained sourly. “And Gabriel isn’t expecting the welcome of a Prodigal Son.”
“And you still trust Iscar?” Mags asked him. “Knowing he would use any means to stop your return?”
“I understand your sceptiscm,” Gabriel replied with a shrug, “just as I understand the Septorian’s precautions. I admit my concern to learn of his involvement in the deaths of the president-elect and his wife. It goes against everything he has said or done. His own admission expressed a callous side of the Septorian that I had not seen before. But now I better understand the situation.”
“That is the Iscar we all know and understand,” Peter admitted bitterly. “The question is what will you do now?”
“My heart will follow the Oracle’s directions and my feet will lead the Guardian. May they always operate in harmony.”
“Amen to that.” Mags stood to carry her empty plate to the kitchen but Gabriel quickly took them from her hands.
“Thank you for the meal. Please, I’ll take care of these while the three of you visit.” He stacked more dishes and quietly left the dining room.
Mags, James, and Peter could only look at each other and shrug. The PriMajor was hard to categorize. His size was rugged but his demeanor was serviceable. His attitude however, seemed to be truthful, even where it seemed unlikely.
“I still can’t believe that news about Donnally,” Peter said. “How could John or Andrew not know he was working for Iscar?”
“Maybe he was sent there by Iscar,” Mags said, “but he could be working for the Spokesmon in the same way Gabriel is working for the Guardian.” She ignored how Peter winced at the pronunciation of Gabriel’s title for him.
“I, for one, am glad to see Iscar’s army falling against him,” James said with some relish to his words. “I believe Gabriel when he said Donnally wasn’t supposed to be on the Aurora, and he’s certainly developed a loyalty to you.”
“That remains to be proven.” Peter shrugged, and pushed away from the table. “I suppose I should start making some plans.”
“I still want to come with you,” James told him before looking at Mags for approval. “Iscar can’t be planning anything good if he’s spent a thousand years conceiving it.”
Mags nodded her head. “I’d like to come along as well. I’m not going to lose Rachel to Iscar now, after finally finding her.”
“I knew you’d feel this way.” Peter said. His gaze traveled between them. “But, at the moment there’s a lot more to do than just find Rachel. As you pointed out, Iscar’s actions have had repercussions around the world.”
“I agree we need a plan,” Mags complained. “But this isn’t the plan I thought we’d have to make.”
“Try not to worry,” James told her. “We all know Rachel can take care of herself.”
“That doesn’t mean she should have to. You realize everything we’re dealing with is something Iscar has started?” Mags stood, her nervous energy took over her body. “I’m going to make some coffee. I have a feeling it will be a long night.”
Standing beside Gabriel’s large figure at the sink made his size seem daunting, but he hummed quietly while he washed the dishes. Mags was unsure what to say but a level of peace radiated from him easily and she wasn’t unnerved. She stacked a tray with cookies baked earlier while the coffee perked.
“If it helps,” he started tentatively, “I assure you that all of Delphi is ready to serve the Spokesmon. There could be no harm the Septorian could inflict on her.”
“I know you feel that way,” Mags told him. “But I know Iscar in a way you never could, and even with his good intentions - there will be damage from somewhere. I have a strong feeling this isn’t over yet.”
“That the Spokesmon is in Delphi,” he said, “is a beginning to the End.”
Mags could only shrug at his belief. “Peter wants to start making plans,” she said. “And there’s probably a lot of information you can provide. Will you please join us?”
“Thank you, Holy Mother.” Again, he gave her a slight bow and reached for the tray she carried.
It wasn’t uncommon for Mags to have such respect; her students had paid her that compliment for lifetimes, but his quiet gracefulness touched her deeply. She released the tray into his hands and smiled at his sincerity.
“Thank you, and please, no titles. We’re very informal these days.”
“Kerroon has requested the same informality,” he told her, “but I am uncomfortable with such casualness. The Spokesmon’s mother is greatly esteemed in our culture.”
“I’m not sure I deserve that much reverence, but if it makes it easier – just call me Mother.”
“I am honored to do so.”
They were an odd group to picture; Mags and James in their desert robes, Peter in his sweatsuit contrasted by Gabriel in his dark uniform. But, theirs was serious work tonight and it was going to take more than one cup of coffee to complete the tasks.
“I don’t think she’s in danger; I’m sure she’s learning all about what Delphi has in store for her,” Peter was telling James, “but I still want to get there as quickly as possible.”
“They have prepared a glorious welcome,” Gabriel assured them as he put the tray on the table. “Everything has been made ready for the Spokesmon’s homecoming, just as the prophecy foretold.”
“And just what is this prophecy?” Mags asked. “I’d like to know what it says about our daughter.”
Gab
riel gave a slight nod. “The prophecy foretold to all who are called to Delphi is that: When history returns to the Beginning, the Beginning turns into history; when the Spokesmon returns to the Source, the world returns to God. In Delphi, her honor is beyond measure.”
“A well-intentioned prophecy, I grant you. Although I might question your interpretation if it was defined by Iscar,” James noted.
Peter nodded in agreement. “In the meantime, there are situations in this world that we can and should address. The computers at PROBE-Tech must be restored to release the information that was to be given at the OneWorld conference.”
“The world is tearing itself apart with accusations of who’s responsible for stealing those secrets.”
“The person responsible is in jail,” Mags said. “And I hope he stays there for a long time.”
She rubbed the invisible wound on her shoulder. Mags knew, as the Spokesmon Rachel had come into some psi-talents of her own. The miraculous way her daughter healed the knife wound had erased the pain, but it could not erase the memory of being viciously stabbed by Frank Morrow. Mags shook herself of the haunting memory and focused on their plans.
“It’s not easy to step in the spotlight John left behind,” James admitted, “but since I’m on the Board of Directors for PROBE-Tech it won’t be difficult to assume the role; most of the other members are past students. As brothers go, he could have done worse.”
The privatization of aerodynamics at PROBE-Tech had united the global scientific community, but the unification still encountered resistance from some governments. The facility’s embassy status afforded the protection to house any number of foreign dignitaries yet still maintained the atmosphere of a community-based village, which made every country’s government uneasy. Every piece of ongoing research was published monthly for general world knowledge, and a wealth of additional information was to have been released at the OneWorld Conference after Christmas. The bombing, and then the computer virus that Iscar planted into the system had rendered both objectives null.
“I hope the Aurora’s crew quickly discovers the source of the DayStar,” Mags said. “It’s causing almost as much trouble as this mess with Morrow. I understand some countries are on high alert; preparing for war. Who could imagine this beautiful light as a prelude to apocalypse?”
