by JB Penrose
“There are more who probably imagine it’s a prelude to domination,” Peter said. “The world doesn’t think – it fears.”
“I’m curious what Delphi speculates about the Light’s source,” James asked Gabriel. “Surely Iscar hasn’t ignored something like that?”
“There are no answers to that puzzle just yet,” he told them. “But our understanding of the apocalypse is more of a revealing – a secret spoken by God.”
“So, you acknowledge the Light is God-sourced?” Mags asked.
“Living inside a mountain there are few in Delphi who have even seen the phenomena,” Gabriel admitted. “The Septorian has inquired through his sources; the Aurora’s mission was brought about through his urging.”
“You think Iscar suggested the Aurora should launch in order to determine the source?” Peter was insulted at suggestion.
“Through the Septorian’s instruction to Morrow, Reider was asked by President Wilson to investigate the DayStar,” Gabriel explained calmly. “He thought to speed the appearance of the Spokesmon by the launch of the Aurora.”
“It’s just like Iscar to twist things to suit him,” James noted.
“Not that it matters,” Mags reminded them. “John had been waiting for the right time to launch; the Daystar also gave them a noble mission.”
“Our mission now is to divide and conquer. Let’s just get started.” Peter opened the valise and immediately felt the subtle vibration of the Words of Thunder. He worried that Rachel should have read it before she’d been whisked away by Iscar. Too late now, Peter thought. He could only keep it safe until he returned it to her.
Peter found the computer drives to restore the PROBE-Tech information and handed them to James. “Here’s what you need to get started.”
“I’ll contact Hirundi,” James said. “I’m sure he can calm these irrational fears and get the conference back on track.”
“I know he’ll be glad to be working with you,” Peter said of the conference leader, Hirundi Asaad. “Although I know it will be strange working with a former student of the Dalyn School.”
“Probably more strange for Hirundi,” Mags pointed out. “He would appear much older than either of us at this point.”
“If anyone can, Hirundi will stop these countries before they start a war over technology that no one has yet received,” James said confidently.
“You should also make contact with the new president. Has Mr. Cauthron announced his choice for a vice president?” Peter asked.
“I haven’t heard any announcements yet,” James told him. “But I’ll see if I can get an appointment to introduce myself and get things back on track with the conference. I hope he’s as big of supporter as was Rodney Young.”
“I haven’t Cauthron myself,” Peter admitted. “Rachel and I were on our way to do that when Morrow’s security team stopped us at the capital. That’s how we ended up in Gail’s office.”
“Thank goodness for Gail,” Mags said. “It’s funny how all of these things tie together.”
“As Rachel would say - we have to take help from wherever it comes.” Peter sighed. “She was never one for making plans – more so just waiting for it to come to her.”
“I hope she’s safe,” Mags said in a moment of motherly concern, but she quickly gathered her strength.
“I know she can take care of herself, but she might not be ready for whatever Iscar has in store for her.” James was still skeptical.
“I assure you all of Delphi is welcoming the Spokesmon in a most wonderful way,” Gabriel said. “After all, we’ve prepared over a thousand years for her Arrival.”
“I’m sure you wish you were there,” Mags realized. “Just as I wish she was here.” She caught Peter’s eye. The separation from Rachel pulled at her heart, but she shared his uneasiness at Iscar’s involvement.
“My thought precisely,” Peter reached for his e-tablet and searched the maps-function. “I can get directions from the GPS, but I want to make a few notes before we start.”
James located an atlas on Gail’s bookshelf and joined Peter in the dining room, browsing for the Himalayan area.
“Gabriel? Would you please sit down?” Peter’s irritation wasn’t precisely aimed at his companion but he couldn’t keep the inflection out of his voice.
Honey wound her way around his legs and Gabriel picked up the cat and scratched her ears with affection. “There’s no need for a map, Kerroon,” he said quietly. “I know the way.”
“I know my way around these mountaintops, too,” Peter told him. However, knowing where he was going didn’t mean he knew what he was going to do when he got there. “It’s not for directions; I need it for options.” He placed the book in front of Gabriel. “Now, where exactly is Delphi?”
Gabriel only took a second to locate an area known as Kangchenjunga, the Five Treasures of Snow. “We can enter through any direction, Nepal, Bhutan, or even India. Getting there isn’t a problem,” he said. “But if we want to get close to our destination by hoverjet, we will be in for a more difficult climb; if we want to play it safe with the weather and navigate the underground tunnels, it will take a longer period. Basically, both routes will still take us a minimum of 10 days.”
Peter wasn’t surprised to imagine a city hidden within that mountains range; the rumors of rakshasa, or demons, had discouraged adventurers for many centuries, and the terrain made the remote peaks difficult to access. “I agree, the weather will be our toughest obstacle,” he told Gabriel.
“Harsh.” The PriMajor nodded. “I had to dig in for a month last year; what a blizzard.”
A small part of Peter was relieved to hear Gabriel admit to any kind of difficulty. His formal exterior hid any chinks of imperfections in his stoic personality.
“I think maybe I’d rather venture inside the mountain. If, as you say, the surrounding villages show some loyalty to the Septorian,” Peter mentally choked on Iscar’s self-imposed title, “then, they may alert him to our location.”
Gabriel nodded in agreement. “The best entry into the Kangchenjunga is from Nepal. The Lepcha tribe is, as you noted, most loyal to the Septorian, but the Buddhist monks serve no master.”
They made a list of necessary supplies and Peter used the cyto to preorder from the automated PROBE-Tech warehouse what they needed to make the overseas trip. There was nothing to pack; it would be ready for them at the airstrip. “We’ll pick up these items,” he circled a few on the list, “in the Darjeeling warehouse before we head for Sikkim. Can you let Chando know we’re coming?”
James nodded. “I’ll send word for him to expect you. He can have these supplies ready when you arrive.”
“I need to trade our hoverjet for something bigger,” Peter decided. “The one Gabriel and I used to get here is parked inside the east bunker. It’s an older model; not much room,” Peter admitted, “but it’s solid and I think Andrew bumped up the jet power because it made good time across the states tonight, or last night, or whenever that was.” Peter shook his head. “All I know is that it’s time to go.”
“Not yet,” Mags said with a slight shake of her head. “You both need some rest.” She rose again. “I’ll get you some pillows and blankets. We all need to get some sleep. Tomorrow – is already today.”
* * *
Neither man required much for a bed but it was in Mags’ nature to make others comfortable, even in Gail’s small apartment.
“Thank you for your exceptional hospitality,” Gabriel took the armful of bedding from her. “Good night, Mother.” His last statement was practically a whisper.
She joined James at the doorway. “Good night Gabriel; Peter.”
Gabriel insisted Peter take the sofa while he stretched out his large frame on the floor under the bay window with the curtains drawn back. “It’s a special treat any time I get to sleep under the stars.”
Peter laid in the dark with his hands behind his head. He needed a good night’s sleep but he didn’t know how he coul
d do that until Rachel was back in his arms, and he needed a plan for that to happen.
If the truth be told, it was Mags who needed the rest. Peter knew the height of expectation she had for Rachel’s return; not for Gabriel to walk through her door. Having her daughter kidnapped a second time had plunged her spirit to the lowest depth. Peter was sure she projected her stoic attitude from centuries of practice. At least this time Peter knew where Rachel was; whom she was with still worried him.
“Gabriel?” Peter asked through the darkness.
“Yes, Guardian? Kerroon,” he corrected himself.
“If you happen to meet Rachel in your dreams, please tell her that we’re on the way.”
“We would have to be dreaming at the same time,” Gabriel reminded him. “But,” he added, “I will tell her if I see her.”
The promise made Peter feel a little better. At least there was some hope of communication between them. If it was only a matter of timing, Peter felt like he could hold on a little while longer. This last week truly felt like a lifetime, even for an immortal like himself.
He certainly didn’t feel like a guardian of anything. The roleau lay dormant in his valise, no longer active with the communication it had in the early hours of its reconstruction. Now he had to wonder the true purpose of the roleau, especially after the instructions it seemingly gave to Gabriel. Peter wasn’t in the mood for another mystery and let the thought drift away to finally fall asleep. Rachel’s face floated through his dreams like clouds, and it was a long way back to reality when he awoke to Gabriel gently tapping his shoulder.
“Guardian? Kerroon?” he whispered. “Please awaken.”
“Has something happened? Did you connect with Rachel?”
“No,” Gabriel continued to stand over Kerroon lying on the sofa. “I have not had communication with the Spokesmon. You were calling out in your dreams. I didn’t want you wake the Spokesmon’s parents.”
“They’ll be awake soon enough.” Peter sat up and rubbed his eyes. “I suppose we should get ready to leave. We’ll want an early start anyway.”
Mags and James woke while Gabriel was preparing breakfast, and soon after they gathered at the door to repeat their goodbyes.
“I will find her.” Peter’s affirmation trailed off with a note of helplessness.
“I understand,” Mags slipped her arm around his waist. “Thank you for going, although I wish I was going with you,” she said wistfully. “Bring her home, Kerroon. I’ve missed my daughter far too long.”
“Bring her home safely,” James said. “And quickly,” he added quietly.
“Gabriel insists Rachel isn’t in danger,” he repeated with some comfort, “but Iscar took her, and I need to be there.” Peter opened the closet and reached for his coat. “I’ll trust you to handle things here.”
It wasn’t fear or concern that pushed him, it was love. Peter loved Rachel with his heart and soul. He knew, whatever she needed, whatever it was she had to do for this world, he would be there for her.
Mags took the cat from Gabriel’s arms and Honey objected with a loud meow. “She misses you already.” Mags patted his broad shoulder. “You’d better be extra safe out there. Learn to watch for the Iscar we know.”
“Yes, Mother,” he spoke quietly. “You need not worry.”
“It’s a mother’s job to worry,” she told him. “But less so with your promise.”
“I am honored by your trust,” he told her. Turning to James, Gabriel gave a salute. “And I will honor your trust,” he promised Rachel’s father before stepping out the door.
Peter kissed Mags on the cheek. “I promise I’ll bring her home.”
“Again,” Mags said quietly. She hugged him tightly. “Thank you.”
“Send word if you need us – for anything,” James reminded him while they hugged.
“That I’ll do,” Peter promised. After a final look around, he bent to pick up his valise. “Well, I guess we’ll be off. I seem to have everything I need.”
“Count on us to take care of things here. I have the PROBE-Tech drives and we can get the conference back on track.”
They closed the door and Mags was grateful for the moment in the security of James’ embrace. Her tears flowed silently and she had to consciously refill her heart with Faith. Having Roko in her life and then lost again was tough to withstand.
A knock at the door startled them and James peered through the peephole before he pulled open the door.
“Lucas?”
The Cardinal entered quickly and stomped the snow off his boots at the front mat.
“I thought Peter had forgotten something. He just left.”
“Peter was here? I’m sorry I missed him. He should have heard this, too.” The Cardinal tossed his hat and coat on a chair and removed his gloves. “It’s about Morrow.”
“Morrow?” Mags was already in the room.
“Morrow. President Wilson plans to pardon him.” The Cardinal gently kissed her hand.
“A presidential pardon? He hasn’t even been convicted yet.” James wrapped his arm around Mags. Lucas dropped into the chair with a sigh.
“And now he won’t even go to trial. Not unless,” he left the sentence hanging. There was no way to get Morrow into the courtroom. Frank Morrow had shot and killed Gail; he had stabbed Mags with a knife, tied up James and tried to steal the Aurora. None of that mattered now; the Spokesmon healed Gail from the fatal gunshot wound and Mags from the knife stabbing. Gail was aboard the Aurora and could never testify against her former boss. Although information linked Frank Morrow to the One-World bombing, that act of violence was actually Iscar’s crime.
“There has to be something,” Mags insisted. “He can’t just walk away.”
“He’ll never walk away,” James shrugged. “Morrow is sure to cause more trouble, for all of us. I just don’t know where to look for it. I need to speak with President Cauthron,” he said to Lucas. “As soon as possible.”
“Shouldn’t you talk to President Wilson instead?” Lucas asked. He’s the one about to pardon Morrow. Mr. Cauthron’s not in office yet.”
“Wilson just played his hand and it’s obvious he’s a pawn of Morrow’s, or for all we know, Iscar’s,” James realized.
“Cauthron worked well with John; he’s the one who needs to know the truth,” Mags told him.
“The whole truth?”
“No, just the truth about Morrow for now,” Mags thought. “And about Gail, too, so he can understand what’s really going on here. Lucas,” she asked, “can you get us an appointment?”
“Certainly. I know the President-elect, and I have a special contact in his office. I’ll arrange a meeting as soon as possible.”
“I wonder if there will be repercussions when the Septorian discovers Morrow has his freedom,” Mags laughed at the irony.
“The Septorian?” Lucan was confused.
“Never mind. It’s just a name Iscar has given himself,” James explained.
* * *
Iscar wasn’t surprised at Mother Star’s appearance; she had a habit of coming when she wanted and leaving without notice. For hundreds of years she had come in and out of his life and he still knew nothing about her. “When you know me, you’ll know me,” was always her cryptic answer.
The councilors and ministers however, wanted to know everything about the Spokesmon. They rushed toward him the moment he stepped out the door, sidestepping each other to be the first to hear the news.
“Is the Spokesmon alright?”
“How did you find her?”
“What does she think of Delphi?”
Iscar motioned for quiet and took a deep breath before he answered. It may not have happened as he planned, but it had happened. The Spokesmon was in Delphi.
“You have seen for yourself – the Spokesmon is quite all right,” Iscar answered. “And she’ll be suitably impressed with Delphi when she’s had the chance to see more of it.”
“That’s what I told them.”
The Master Healer patted Councilor Onderdonk on the back. “I also suggest we delay the banquet until tomorrow.” Aaron winked at Iscar before turning the crowd toward the opposite stairwell. “Come along, now. This is a good time to double-check those additional vid-screens we installed for the ceremony.”
“It’s going to be grand,” Robertson said as the group disappeared down the steps. “You can be anywhere in Delphi and see the Spokesmon at Malkuth.”
Gideon waited until they were completely alone before he spoke. “The Seven is ready to convene,” he told Iscar.
“Have you had any contact with your brother?”
“Nothing yet, Septorian. Not even an image!”
Iscar hissed with an intake of breath but his doubt was directed toward the PriMajor; there should have been word by now. Gabriel was more to Iscar than his second-in-command; he had always been Iscar’s most trusted choice. His absence left Iscar with some uncertainty.
“Tell the Seven I’ll be there shortly,” Iscar instructed. “I have something I need to take care of first.”
“Yes, Septorian.”
Gideon’s footsteps faded in the stairwell before Iscar turned towards his own quarters. Either side of the amphitheater at Malkuth had a path that led to a separate connection of rooms; one side designated for the Spokesmon, the other side was for Iscar. His steps were measured to appear casual but his heart raced with urgency. Maybe he should thank the Spokesmon for fainting. If he had been forced to wait through the Arrival celebration, it would have been hours before he could check on the situation himself.
He hoped Donnally had more information on Kerroon and Gabriel’s activities; the PROBE-Tech flight director was Iscar’s best kept secret.
Donnally Tompkins was one of a few children born in Delphi, so the technology Reider slowly introduced at PROBE-Tech was something Donnally had been exposed to all his life. That familiarity, though source unknown, made him Reider’s most valuable employee, and his most trusted. Ironic, Iscar thought, since Donnally was also one of Delphi’s most trusted Guard.
