MONAD 12.21.12

by T. Anderson

  The discussion continued. Dane asked, “And when you started MONAD?”

  Gunnar answered, “When we started MONAD, we were mavericks looking for a quick fix. A loop-hole to fast forward the soul to an advanced awareness. We reasoned that if it took a lifetime to realize the true meaning of our existence, and then we were to die and be reborn, only to begin the lesson again, it wasn’t moving fast enough to make a real difference. Yes, we may take with us a spark of our realization into the next life, but not nearly all of the ideas we may have once achieved. We calculated the rate at which the earth was deteriorating to be much faster than the rate at which we were evolving—we were losing the race. Out of desperation, we developed Aeon. Now, looking back on it, we realize that we may have overstepped nature’s plan for us. We may have successfully completed the displacement of Stella’s soul, but humanity was obviously not ready to wield such a great gift. We should have known that it would become the root of greed and power.” He then hesitated, seeming remorseful.

  Dane suggested, “But if we have the capability of designing such a plan, how can it be wrong to use it? Don’t you think humans were given the gift of reasoning and intelligence to actually use their brains? If you ask me, you didn’t do anything wrong. The risk is part of the journey.”

  They all sat shocked, staring at Dane. He wasn’t just a pretty face. He had a good point. “Dane, my man, you may be right,” Gunnar considered. “You may be right. We shall see.”

  Dane asked, “And something else I don’t understand is if Doctor Steinar has the technology, and helped design the experiment, why hasn’t he been able to reproduce it after all these years?”

  “Good question. It’s our understanding that strict guidelines have been placed on the Project by the government. Ethics. They can’t go around just testing on humans, risking their lives. But,” Gunnar stopped and shot a meaningful look at Vern who was sipping from his third glass of wine. “Vern, should we tell them?”

  Vern reluctantly nodded, “You go ahead.” He couldn’t bring himself to deliver the bad news.

  Gunnar continued. “A reliable inside source tells us that Erling has a private team that’s been secretly testing on human subjects for years. He couldn’t play by the rules and when he grew tired and impatient of waiting for the government’s approval for go-ahead with Aeon, he paid people off to carry out his work. We’re not quite sure why he hasn’t been successful in any of his attempts to re-create the displacement. He must have all of the technology and has probably even improved it over the years. He’s never had one single subject survive the process.” Silence governed the room once more.

  “Who’s he been testing on?” Aron asked, disgusted.

  “His subjects are random. Sometimes the homeless, people who wouldn’t be missed. He lures them with promises of wealth and a new life. Sometimes elderly, rich business associates who’ve heard that Erl is up to something that can offer them immortality. Whatever the case, nothing has been successful. Each time we hear of a failed attempt, it’s good news for us—but you can’t ignore the brutality. He’s murdering people!”

  “What a sick, twisted bastard!” Dane seethed. “Shouldn’t we find a way to stop him?”

  “Our day will come, Dane. It’ll come. Now that we have the girls here, both safe with us, we’re working on a plan to take him out. He must be stopped.” Vern also nodded in agreement. He’d had too much wine.

  “Not to change the subject,” Dane interjected after another moment of silence, “but we went to this lecture yesterday on campus…”

  “Ahhh…the ‘End of the World’ lecture?” Gunnar asked.

  “Yes, sir. What are your thoughts on it? I can’t stop thinking about it. December 21st isn’t that far away. Do you really think something will happen? Is all of this just pointless? Are we all doomed anyway?”

  “No, Dane. I don’t think the world is going to end. Quite the contrary. We like to believe that it’s actually tied into the coming of the fifth age. We’re waiting for a sign on that day—something to give us all hope. It may be what we’ve been working toward. We can only be patient and wait to see what will transpire. I can’t imagine a miraculous, global awakening. But maybe, just maybe a beginning.”

  It was late. Very late. They’d been talking into the cool, California night. Gunnar and Cybele assured Dane that the twins were safe with them for one night. Vern was too intoxicated to drive, but had to be back on campus for an early morning meeting, so Dane volunteered to drive him. Dane reluctantly said goodbye to Aron. He squeezed her hand. Kissing was completely out of the question tonight, in front of this crowd.

  Vern lingered for a moment staring at Stella. In his state of drunkenness, he noticed something different about her—something more familiar. Was it the wine? Was he imagining things? His head was foggy and his thoughts were exaggerated and slow. The atmosphere and mood of the room felt nostalgic, almost romantic to him.

  Stella felt him watching her. Studying her. She felt sorry for him. He wanted something that would never be possible again. He wanted her. She tried desperately to hide her transformation, but he sensed it. Physically, she was nothing like his wife—but at this moment, he was able to see within her. And with her self-realization, Stella’s previous life was oozing from every pore of her body. She tried to look away.

  “Stella,” Vern started, but stopped himself. What he was thinking of saying seemed suddenly inappropriate. Instead he said, “be safe. Good night.” He lowered his eyes, gathered his things and turned for the door after thanking the Ericksons for dinner.

  After they left, Cybele put an arm around Stella and showed her to her room. Gunnar popped his head in to say good night. “If you’re interested, and up early enough in the morning, I’m leading a meditation at six a.m. in the garden. A few members gather here every Saturday. You’re welcome to join us.”

  “Thanks. I will.” Stella smiled at Gunnar. He noticed something different about her too. Was it a sense of maturity? Her face looked relaxed, her eyes portrayed the confidence of a wise woman. It was subtle, but definitely noticeable. He thought it to be very interesting and it peaked his curiosity. What was going on with Stella? What was happening to her? Certainly something.

  Aron was the last to tuck her in. Gram was at her heels, wagging his tail. “You okay Stella? That was pretty intense tonight. You want Gram to stay with you? I’ll loan him to you for a night,” she winked. Without being told, the big dog hopped up and circled into a perfect spot at Stella’s feet. He was a perceptive and protective creature. Stella wiggled her toes against his back to thank him.

  “Thanks, Aron. Love you. ‘Night.”

  “Love you too, Stella.” Aron flipped the light off and left her two best friends together in the dark.

  Stella lay awake for a while with the soothing sound of Gram breathing at her feet. She wondered what it was going to be like to meditate in the morning. The mere idea of it triggered a familiar pulsing sensation deep in her skull. Was her pineal gland amplified in the quiet stillness of the room? The moon was bright and shone through the window. Gram’s ears perked up and he studied her as a low moan escaped his muzzle. They say animals can detect much more than humans. Gram knew something was up with Stella. It was his watch and he wouldn’t rest until she did.

  Her head was throbbing, probably from too much information. And she was more than tired. When she relaxed and succumbed to sleep, Gram finally did too. Stella drifted seamlessly into one of her repetitious dreams.

  Moving listlessly around a small, dark room—tidying the linens, sweeping the bare, earthen floor—her body felt weakened and her movements delayed. Though the room was cooled by the stone walls, the ray of sunlight peeking through the wooden shutters was causing her head to throb. Suddenly she felt lightheaded and collapsed to the damp floor, just as her lover entered the room.

  “My love! What has happened?”

  She was unable to answer. Her mouth would not move. He gathered up her pale, limp body
into his strong arms. “It is time,” he said. She looked into his eyes. She saw fear.

  “I shall take you to him. He will help us.” His voice faltered, but he moved quickly. He cupped her face toward his chest as he burst out the door into the bright sun. “Close your eyes, my love. I will save you.”

  Stella was aware inside of her dream. Never before had she been able to think about what it meant or what its significance was. As she examined it further, once again it was lost. She couldn’t stabilize the images to maintain any further.

  The rest of the night was a painless, dreamless sleep. Sound, sight, everything white. Neither she nor Gram stirred until they heard the gentle knock on the door at six a.m.

  “Come in,” she murmured dryly.

  “Stella?” Gunnar whispered. “We’re ready to begin in a few minutes. There’s a chill this morning, so dress in layers. We’ll wait for you.”

  Gram followed her out to the garden in the early morning dawn. Besides Aron, there were a handful of faces she didn’t recognize. She found an available space and mimicked the others’ body positions. She sat cross-legged, hands gently resting in her lap. They all faced Gunnar. He winked at her as he welcomed them. His voice was like butter, smoothly rounding out every word. She easily followed and was soon lost in the ocean of bliss.

  10

  Frightening Discoveries

  Just days after Stella left for school, Petra discovered the safe. They were hosting an important dinner that evening and she was searching the wine cellar for a few hidden gems to “wow” the guests. She rarely poked into the back corner, but wanted to see what she might be able to find stashed away back there. When she stepped on top of the metal door in the floor, it captured her attention. After lifting up the rug she stared at the small digital display that read “lock.” She tried to remember if she’d ever known about this safe being here. No, she was quite sure she hadn’t. Immediately suspicious, she wondered what her husband was up to. It couldn’t be good, but she had to find out. She carefully laid the rug back in its place, placed her wine selections into a crate and headed back up the stairs with the bottles and a faux smile on her face. Petra was a master of disguise.

  The discovery solidified her decision to support Stella’s move to California—out of the grips of Erl and Myra, and the rest of the MONAD fanatics. For the next two weeks, Petra took every available opportunity to try different combinations on the safe. She was about to give up when she punched in the last sequence of numbers, which seemed much too obvious. 12:21:12. She had remembered Erling’s obsession with the date. He didn’t actually believe the world was going to end, but he loved reading about it. The predictions of the apocalypse intrigued him. He had dozens of books on the subject stacked around his bedside and his favorite armchair.

  Petra gasped in surprise when the safe beeped and the display read, “open”. She took a deep breath. She knew she was alone. Erling was away on business. No one was in the house but her. She grabbed her digital camera and snapped a photo. She would need to make sure everything was replaced in the same way she took it out. She carefully removed the first brown package labeled with a large number 15. After removing the contents, she began to quickly thumb through the paperwork and shook her head in stunned disbelief. She’d had her suspicions of her husband’s research—all the extra hours spent in the lab. She didn’t want to believe it was true. Now she had proof. It was unbelievable. Erling was never the most decent human being, but this was just disgusting.

  Then she discovered the small piece of plastic inside the package. A digital memory card, the kind that usually contains information like photos or video footage. She considered and weighed the risk carefully for a moment, but decided she needed to see what was on that card. She hustled upstairs to her computer and inserted the tiny disk. The video recording began. She felt sick to her stomach when she witnessed what her husband was doing. All of her worst fears were realized. He was a monster! She forced herself to watch the hideous video in its entirety. She needed to see if she recognized anyone else. And then, toward the end, she did. Myra Hadrian moved from behind the camera and walked forward to confirm the deaths and record the data in a notebook. Most of the notes in the file must have been hers. When the video ended, Petra wiped the tears from her face, removed the card and returned the contents to the package. She rushed back down to the basement and scanned the rest of the safe. It was nearly full of the same packages. She didn’t need to look inside of them. She couldn’t. Taking great care, she replaced everything.

  After checking her digital photo to make sure it all looked the same, she locked the safe, replaced the rug, took one last look around the cellar, and turned out the lights.

  With nothing left in her stomach to vomit, Petra was finally able to collect herself. She splashed her face with cool water and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Who was that person? She fixed her makeup and straightened her clothes. Then her thoughts turned to Stella. Stella! Oh God, when would he begin his grotesque torturing on her?! She needed to protect her. She needed to keep her far, far away from there. She needed a plan. She could make some calls, arrange something—some kind of protection for her. She wished she could go to Stella right now, tell her everything, and they could run away together. She didn’t want to stay in this house—in the home of a murderer. But she had to. She needed help. Someone in California who she could trust. She didn’t want to, but she knew she had to call Vern.

  Before she did anything irrational, Petra calmed herself down. She was a chameleon and she prided herself on it. She’d been doing it for many years. Sacrificing so much of herself, sometimes she didn’t even remember who she once was. A long time ago, she’d made a pact with herself and she wasn’t about to break it. Not when Stella needed her the most. She would get through this, ensure Stella’s safety, and then worry about herself when the time allowed. She wouldn’t mind seeing Erling pay for his crimes, either. It would make for a very happy ending. But he and MONAD were much too powerful to even attempt such a thing right now. First things first.

  11

  Mercury

  After their weekend at the Erickson’s, the twins returned to campus feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. Dane and Aron were like two lost puppies finding each other again. It had only been two days, but to them it felt like an eternity that they’d been apart.

  Stella was ready to crack the books and get into school. She was ready to focus. She even managed to send Petra an e-mail to let her know how things were going—a big step for her. She wasn’t quite ready to blow the whistle on her “father,” Erling, and apparently the others weren’t ready yet either. But she also wasn’t ready to give up on her “mother” back in Minnesota. That little voice inside was telling her there may be more to the story than she knew at this point. Of course, she didn’t divulge anything that would raise eyebrows to Petra. She just kept the note light and casual.

  On Wednesday, Stella got a call from Vern.

  “Hi Stella. I’m wondering if it would be okay for us to meet somewhere? I feel like there are a few things we need to talk about. That is, if you’re comfortable with that.”

  “Sure, Professor Hanson. When and where?” Stella was not entirely comfortable with the idea, but she knew she had to get this situation with him under control before it got out of hand. The growing attraction he had for her was obvious and it worried her. Better to just get it over with and let him down as gently as possible. She knew it wouldn’t be easy.

  “How about tomorrow night—say, around eight? I’ll pick you up and we can go get a cup of coffee somewhere off campus.” He wanted to avoid being potentially seen by other students.

  “That sounds okay. See ya then,” Stella reluctantly agreed. She really wasn’t looking forward to it.

  The next night, as Stella prepared to leave, Aron offered to go along. She wasn’t crazy about the idea of Stella being alone with Verner. She had a bad feeling about it. Aron even tried to volunteer Dane, to his surprise. No, Stel
la was determined to do it on her own. This would be embarrassing for Vern and he didn’t need an audience. She grabbed her bag and left to face him.

  Vern waited for her in his car. He waved and she slid into the passenger seat, making a point of leaning toward the window—away from him. She wasn’t about to give the wrong body language. As they drove to the café, Vern tried to make small talk, asking her about the rest of her weekend and classes. She found it hard to concentrate.

  Although Stella was determined to explain to Vern that there was no way they would ever be together again, the voice inside was begging her not to hurt him. And on top of that, she couldn’t deny the primordial attraction to him. How was this possible? He was at least twice her age. He wasn’t a bad looking guy, but at quick glance she wasn’t particularly physically attracted to him. Yet, she felt a deep ache within that longed to touch his hand, his face, his body. The feeling was immense and overpowering, hard to resist. The more she recognized it, the stronger it became. She felt a tightening in her throat, and although difficult to admit, an unexpected arousal when she allowed herself to imagine the two of them together.

  It required every speck of willpower that she could muster to get a hold on her senses. Logically, it would never work. It could never work. Surely he realized this as well. Just as she suspected, this was not going to be easy. In fact, it would be much more difficult than she could have guessed.

  Both noticeably uncomfortable, they sipped their coffee on a bench in front of a quaint little café. They chose to sit outside so that they could have more privacy—funny how that works. Vern initiated the conversation.

  “Stella—I…” He had trouble saying what was on his mind. She was nervous to hear what it would be. “I want to apologize for the other night. I know I made you feel uncomfortable, and I’m sorry.” He looked down at his to-go coffee cup and fiddled with the lid. “It’s just, I see her, you know…every time I look at you. I don’t know how to explain it. You don’t really look like her—but it’s more than that. I know it’s wrong. I shouldn’t be telling you this.” He looked sincerely remorseful.