by Jacob Whaler
Naganuma shakes his head. “The Stones are invisible to him as long as we are here. I designed this world with that in mind.”
Matt lets out a long sigh. “Good. So, back to the question. How did I get out of the professor’s office? One second I was there, the next I was gone. Did I do that, or did you?”
Naganuma’s hand goes inside his robe, and he closes his eyes.
Matt watches him closely, expecting Naganuma to take out a hidden object. Instead, the space around them turns blindingly white, snuffing out the sound of cicadas and birds. His eyes flip shut. A light breeze blows the taste of salt past his face.
“You can open your eyes now,” Naganuma says.
They stand side by side on the seashore, a different seashore from the one earlier in the day.
“Does that answer your question?” Naganuma says, taking his hand out of his robe.
“So you were the one that pulled me out of the professor’s office?”
“I helped. All it took was a little push.” Naganuma stares at the setting sun, a giant orange orb sinking into the sea. “Now it’s your turn. Take us back to the house.”
“How?”
“Think of where you want to go. Imagine yourself there. Reach out for it. Hold the Stone in your hand. It is not necessary, but it helps focus the body and mind.” Naganuma’s hand reaches for Matt’s shoulder.
Matt finds the Stone in his pocket and his fingers curl around it. Then he closes his eyes and sees the tatami room, the low table, the wall hanging made by Naganuma. He imagines that he’s standing at the door taking a step into the room. He wills himself to be there.
There is the same flash of light followed by silence. The smell of broiled fish and miso hangs in the air. He opens his eyes, and they are in the room, sitting at the table.
Naganuma smiles, eats one last bit of pickled radish and belches. “Now follow me.” He rises and walks out the front door of the house.
They move around the wide deck on the outside.
Naganuma is bent forward with his arms behind his back. “There is more I must tell you before you go back. Someday, if you live long enough, you will have to choose.”
“Choose what?”
“Choose who you will follow. The Allehonen, or the Others.”
“The Others?” Matt stops and looks at Naganuma’s face in profile. “Who are they?”
Naganuma keeps walking on the deck, looking at the massive cedar trees in the grove that stand like silent guardians. “The Allehonen have given you an invitation to join them.”
“What invitation?” Matt tries to recall what the Woman showed him on the mountaintop. He doesn’t remember an invitation of any kind.
“The vision they showed you. Traveling through galaxies, the formation of stars and planets.” Naganuma disappears around a corner of the house.
Deep furrows appear in Matt’s forehead, and he races to catch up. “How do you know about that?”
“Because I have seen the same vision. Eventually, all who hold a Stone receive this vision, or some version of it.” Naganuma smiles. “It’s an overwhelming experience. Many religions start in this way. It is their way of asking you to join them.”
Matt inhales the soothing aroma of cedar coming off the bark of the trees. “To do what?”
“To do what you saw in the vision. They are builders of galaxies and star systems. Wherever they find chaos, they change it to order, leaving planets and life in their wake. They fight against entropy. It is the way the Earth was made. That is their goal. The spread of life throughout the universes.”
“Universes?”
“Another discussion for another time, if you survive.” Naganuma steps onto a narrow path through the trees. “Tell me. Why do you think the Allehonen build? What is their motivation?”
“To get more power.” Matt shrugs his shoulders. “Enlarge their empire. More is always better than less.”
Naganuma shakes his head and moves around the last corner to descend the wooden steps to ground level. “Come with me. I will try to help you understand. You must know this before you face Ryzaard tomorrow.”
Together they walk through the tall grass that carpets the grove to one of the trees. A shimenawa rope made from thousands of twisted strands of rice straw drapes around the mighty tree like a massive belt. White shide papers zigzag down from the rope, a symbol of lightning. Matt knows Naganuma has put the decorations on the tree. It must be sacred to him.
With trembling fingers, Naganuma reaches out to the rough, moldy bark. “Do as I do.” He closes his eyes. “Do not try to see. Only feel.”
Standing next to Naganuma, Matt puts his palms on the tree. His eyelids float down, and he becomes one with his breath. For a time, his only sensations are darkness and the damp surface of the bark under his fingertips. Tension flows out of his body. His shoulders drop down with relaxation. Almost immediately, there is a change inside the tree, a softness not there before. The border between his hands and the rough bark blurs, and his fingers seem to move through its pliable surface.
He fights the urge to open his eyes.
There is the same falling sensation again, only this time he is falling into the tree, becoming part of it, one with it. His legs become impossibly long and stretch down into the soil, feet and toes drawing up nutrients and moisture. Fingers and arms lengthen upward to the sky to bask in the warmth of the setting sun. Awareness pours in from every branch and leaf of the tree, finding its place in him.
“I am in the tree,” he says in a whisper.
Naganuma’s voice speaks softly at his side. “Embrace it. Do not be afraid.”
Sensing a presence in the distance, Matt feels it grow in intensity and flow toward him like a massive tsunami wave on the horizon. His arms reach out to it, fingers open to receive it, yearning for it, hungering for it. All sound fades into silence as the wave rushes closer, and then it crashes down, surging over and through him. It’s as if he is standing alone in a dark room when the lights suddenly come on, bathing him in intense color and the sound of a full symphony. He wants it to last forever. As the music soaks through him, he imagines it intertwining with the very DNA of his cells.
I am the tree.
Eventually the flow of sound and color slows and fades. Matt opens his eyes and pulls his hands away from the tree. The sun has set and the sky is dark. He realizes that he’s been with the tree for hours. He turns to find the priest.
Naganuma rests on the ground behind him, his back against a moss-covered trunk with his eyes closed, sleeping peacefully. As Matt walks toward him, his eyes open. “Now do you know why the Allehonen build worlds and spread life throughout the universes?” He waits for an answer.
Matt is still in a daze and struggles to find the right word. “To feel what I just felt. Euphoria, ecstasy.”
Nodding his head, Naganuma rises to his feet, arms out, body balanced evenly on two feet. “The closest English word I have found is joy, but the meaning is the same. With the Stones, the Allehonen organize cold matter into living organisms, just like that tree. They create life, and in return, the life they create generates joy for them. The Allehonen seek to increase this joy, to fill the emptiness of space with it.”
“Life generates joy?” Matt wonders about the darkness and fear that seem to have been his companion since the loss of his mom.
“From the lowliest fungi to the mighty blue whale, it is the same.” Naganuma begins to walk in the semi-darkness. “All of their creations sing to them.”
Matt moves in silence with the priest past the trees, savoring what he has just felt. The cry of a hawk in the distance brings him back to the present.
“Tell me about the Others.”
At the mention of the word, furrows appear in Naganuma’s brow. He breathes in crisply, holds the breath, and then allows it to slowly escape his lips. “They are not builders.”
“What do they do?”
Naganuma seems to struggle for words, but then speaks. “The Al
lehonen create life, and let it grow, without restriction, without control.”
“Freedom,” Matt says. “It must be a core principle of the Allehonen.”
The old man nods his head gravely as they walk. “The Others oppose unbridled freedom and the disorder it inevitably brings. They value power and control, the mastery of the strong over the weak.”
“Well, freedom is messy. It leads to suffering, injustice, pain and misery,” Matt says. It all begins to remind him of a prior conversation. “That’s what Ryzaard is after. He said the power of the Stones would rid the world of suffering and bring true freedom.”
“He has rejected the Allehonen and chosen the path of the Others.” Naganuma brings his hands together as he walks. “Many have chosen the path to power. It is the easiest way.”
“He showed me the power. I felt it. It was…” Matt’s stops walking and stares down.
Naganuma’s eyes grow large with intensity, and he looks deep into Matt’s face, drawing his gaze like a magnet. “It was what?”
“Intensely satisfying,” Matt says, with a hint of embarrassment. He looks away from Naganuma, and then up at the first stars shining through the tree canopy above them. “A feeling of total control and domination. Intoxicating. Probably addictive.”
“Then you will follow the Others?”
“No, not if it means I follow Ryzaard.” His hand instinctively reaches up to touch the skin behind his ear. Images of the jewel implant rise in his mind. “He wants to bring Paradise through force.”
Naganuma begins to walk again, and Matt follows. “That is the way of the Others. And so you must choose. Power or freedom.” Naganuma bends down to look at a flower blooming in the starlight, its delicate white petals stretch out in a perfect ring around a yellow center. “It is a choice all of us must make. One or the other. You cannot have both.”
Matt senses a hint of fatigue in Naganuma’s voice. “What path have you chosen?”
“What I have chosen, and whether I have chosen, is my own business.” Naganuma abruptly stands and walks back the way they had come, leaving Matt standing alone.
Touchy fellow, Matt thinks.
He stays behind in the grove and walks alone through the tall grass, looking up at the night sky. A giant tree stands a few paces away, and he approaches it with outstretched fingers. It happens more quickly this time. From the capillary-like root hairs deep in the soil to the solid core at its heart to the far reaches of the top leaves facing up to the stars, each part finds a place in his awareness. He listens to a symphony of colors, noting how the song is different from the other tree.
As he passes the last tree on the edge of the grove, Matt brushes his fingers against it and feels the music again. Different, but similar.
Back at the house, Naganuma is gone. The dinner dishes have been cleaned up, and beside the low table, a simple futon is spread out on the tatami. Matt is overcome with weariness, so he removes his outer clothing and lies down on the bottom mat, throwing the top over him.
Sleep comes quickly.
CHAPTER 82
Ryzaard inspects the special room next to this office, hands behind his back in his usual professorial mode. Two thick power cables enter through separate holes near the floor in each wall and snake into a stainless steel cube two feet high in the center of the room. From above, it looks like a giant, eight-legged spider perfectly positioned in the center of a blue shag rug that extends three meters out from the cube all the way around. Two chairs that look like they came from a dental office are positioned on the shag rug with multiple pairs of steel shackles lying on the floor at their base.
The entire room has a carefully scrubbed, clinical feel.
“What do you think?” Jerek’s tall frame is stooped near the cube, looking sideways at Ryzaard as he walks around the room close to the walls.
“What about the titanium plating for the walls?” Ryzaard says.
“It’s coming.” Jerek bends down and pulls at a power cable running into the cube. “Installation is scheduled for this afternoon, as per your instructions.”
“All four walls, floor and ceiling, right?”
“Absolutely. Just as you ordered.”
“What about temperature control?” Ryzaard stops and stares past Jerek at the cube.
“The units have been shipped. We should have them this evening.”
“Did you get any trouble from NASA?”
“They weren’t happy that we bumped their order,” Jerek says. “But they didn’t push back when I mentioned that we were from MX Global.”
“Good. Everything seems to be moving along.” Ryzaard folds his arms.
“Oh, and here’s the control unit for the cube.” Jerek digs into his pocket and pulls out a thin gold card, handing it to Ryzaard. “It’s a simple toggle, on and off. I’ve already tested it, and it works like a charm. You might want to stand back when you turn it on. Twenty terajoules generates a significant EMG field. Probably not a good idea to stand too close.”
Ryzaard smiles. “I’ll stay here for a while and meet you later in the lab.”
“Let me know if you need anything else.” Jerek walks out the door, shutting it behind him.
Ryzaard moves around the full circumference of the room one more time, staying off the blue shag rug. Taking an old silver dollar out of his pocket, he flicks it high in the air and listens to the tinny ring as the coin turns into a rising blur. His eyes follow its arc up and then narrow slightly with concentration. The next instant, it hangs still in mid-air. When he relaxes his eyes, the coin falls back into his open palm.
Taking out the thin gold card he got from Jerek, Ryzaard touches the red dot in its center. A low hum fills the room, emanating from the cube. A tingling sensation stirs on his skin, and the hair rises slightly on the back of his neck.
He steps onto the blue shag rug extending three meters out from the cube, close to one of the dental chairs placed next to it. He flicks the silver dollar into the air again, following its rise. Just like before, his eyes narrow with concentration.
But the coin falls to the wood floor, its loud clang reverberating off the walls.
No matter how hard he tries, the Stone does not work inside the square, near the cube.
Perfect, thinks Ryzaard.
CHAPTER 83
Matt wakes with a start. He has the eerie sense that someone is watching. The aroma of bacon and eggs descends upon him.
Naganuma sits at the low table a few meters away, his face close to a plate about to take a bite.
“Ohayou gozaimasu,” he says. “I trust you slept well?”
“Like a baby.”
“Have breakfast. And then you will leave. Back to the shrine.”
Matt rubs the sleep out of his eyes and quickly sits down at the table. “Is that where you were last night?”
Naganuma keeps eating and doesn’t answer.
Reaching for his chopsticks, Matt suddenly feels acute hunger pains. “How do we get there?”
“The same way we got here.” Naganuma’s voice is even more irritable than usual. He finishes breakfast, stands up and begins to pace back and forth in the room as Matt eats.
“Is there anything else you need to tell me about the Stones before—”
“Before what?” Naganuma stops and stares down at Matt.
“Before I go after Jessica.”
“You mean Ryzaard?” Naganuma puts his hands on his hips and towers over Matt, his voice rising in volume until he is almost shouting. “You still do not understand. But you will soon.” Naganuma walks to the front door and slides it open, allowing bright sunlight to stream onto the table. “I will be waiting for you outside.”
Matt emerges onto the deck a minute later, his mouth still full of rice and pickled plum, and walks around two corners to the opposite side of the house. Naganuma stands in the grass with his back to Matt, not far from the foot of the steps. At the bottom, Matt’s shoes are neatly arranged, and he slips into them.
Walking through the grove past the giant trunks, Naganuma stays slightly ahead of Matt. Less than a hundred meters from the house, they encounter a heavy mist hanging like curtains between the trees. Neither of them speak for a time. An oblong object, round at each end and about three feet high, begins to take shape in the mist.
After a few more steps in silence, Matt recognizes the shape as the Harley-Davidson motorcycle, parked neatly next to a tree. Naganuma walks briskly to it and runs his hand along the leather seat and chrome handlebars. He looks up at Matt with bloodshot eyes, and then looks away.
“Get on. It will take you back.”
“What about—”
“No questions,” Naganuma says. “I’ll see you back at the shrine.” He backs away and makes room for Matt to mount the bike.
Without thinking, Matt feels for the Stone through the outside of his pocket, and then reaches out with his left hand to touch the black handle grip on the motorcycle.
The instant his fingers touch the grip, the air flashes white, forcing his eyes to slam shut, and all sound is sucked away.
When he opens his eyes, there’s a tatami floor under the soles of his shoes, and he is standing face to face with an Elvis Presley poster hanging on a wall.
Back at the shrine.
Off to the right, there’s movement in his peripheral vision. He turns and stares in disbelief.
“Hello, Matt. How have you been?” Ryzaard says.
CHAPTER 84
This is good. Really good.
Kent stares into the screen of his slate, reading the transcripts from MX Global over and over, finding the words hard to believe. He’s even more sure now that he’s hit the jackpot.
Only a day and a half have passed since he started eavesdropping on the 175th floor of the MX Global building. It’s like walking into a theater near the end of a three hour movie. He doesn’t know all the details of the plot or all of the characters, but the ending is clear enough.
Ryzaard has a team of hotshot youngsters working on a complex project. They have nearly unlimited money and all the technology and intelligence resources of the MX Global corporate machine. And they aren’t concerned about breaking the law. MX Global has the power to make the law be whatever it wants the law to be.
