MONAD 12.21.12

by T. Anderson

  Dane changed the subject. “Come on, I know where we can go.” Aron hugged his arm tightly and they headed for a party.

  20

  Darkness

  Dr. Myra Hadrian returned to MONAD once again, with little of interest to report. She kept her trip a secret to conceal her own feelings of inadequacy, but Petra was wise to her movements. Petra was the only one who kept close tabs on Myra at all times, aware that she was one to be watched.

  Petra wondered how the twins had successfully thwarted Myra’s prodding and poking. The type that left no stones unturned, she certainly wasn’t an easy one to fool. She wasn’t sure whom to thank, so she thanked the stars themselves for keeping Stella safe.

  ***************

  Erling Steinar had been twisting himself into a roaring ball of fury with no successful completion of Aeon. He’d never exposed his secret, but had carried with him all these years the fact that he may never figure out the missing component of his experiments. It dangled in front of him like a carrot tied to a stick. There was no way in hell he would ask the one person he knew to have the answer. The one person that was sure to hide the secret. And why this person had never used the knowledge, himself, was boggling to Erling.

  Sure, there were times when he was close to giving in. Dialed phone numbers but hung up before the person answered, wrote letters that he shredded instead of mailed. Not only would this make him look like a fool, but he was certain that the person would never agree to help him anyway, so why bother? Instead, he soothed his frustration. He killed. Another and another and another, until it was never enough. The killing became a ritual. The ritual became his work. His work lost all purpose. He wasn’t sure if the success of Aeon even mattered to him anymore. Without realizing it, he’d become a serial killer, the kind of sick bastard you read about or see in movies.

  To his knowledge, the only person who knew this murderer, this alter ego, was Myra Hadrian. He felt secure knowing that only she was privy to this information, because he regarded her in the same light. She, too, lived the double life. She had no conscience, no soul. They lived out the fantasy together—the fantasy that their work actually meant something—when, really, they both knew that it did not support the theory that it was all for a greater cause, a step in evolution for mankind. No, they both knew that is manifested now from a dark place, an evil place, where they were allowed to justify their crimes and pass them off as “science.”

  Erling was lost in the darkness of his own mind and wasn’t expecting anything to change it.

  21

  Decisions

  Another week passed before Stella finally emerged from the secret room in the basement—the meditation cave. She left in the cover of night, not merely to hide in the shadows, but to shield her eyes from the painfully bright sunlight. Although they’d all been waiting for her to do so, no one was expecting her arrival, so when she slipped her key into the lock of her dorm room, Aron bolted out of bed ready to fight. It was those keen reflexes that she had.

  Slower to react, Aron’s bedmate, Dane, clicked on the lamp. Stella squinted.

  “Stella?!” Aron and Dane exclaimed together.

  “Yes. It’s me. I’m back.” She sounded strangely normal.

  Aron threw her arms around her twin and lifted Stella off the ground. She was so relieved. She’d missed her so much. The reunion was a happy one for all three of them.

  Stella began to speak without the sound of ancient wisdom, but more like they were used to hearing her—a regular eighteen year old college girl. “I see you two have been busy while I was gone.” Aron blushed while Dane quickly dressed.

  “I think I’ll leave you girls alone,” said Dane as he moved around Stella toward the door. “It’s good to see you, Stell.” And then he was gone.

  “I love that you’re in love,” Stella told Aron.

  “Me too. How’re you feeling?”

  “I’m feeling okay. I needed that time to figure some stuff out.”

  “And? It worked?”

  “Yup! I’ve decided to quit school.”

  “Okayyy.”

  “There’s really no point to stay. And if I skip class, they’ll just kick me out anyway.”

  “So, you’re going back to Minnesota? Stella, you can’t!”

  “No. Calm down. I’m going to your parent’s, our parent’s, house. For a while, anyway. I’m going to play it by ear, see how it feels.” This answer seemed to sit better with Aron. There were some unanswered suspicions surrounding Gunnar still floating around, but she felt better about having Stella be there rather than in Minnesota.

  “Okay. I approve.”

  “Good, I’m glad. Now tell me what happened while I was gone.”

  “Well, I cut my hair,” Aron said as she spun around, showing off her new ‘do. “I pretended I was you and went to your classes to cover for you.”

  “Oh, no, I miss your beautiful long hair. Promise you’ll grow it again, for me. Promise.”

  “Okay. I will. Relax,” Aron said, “And we had an exciting visit from your shrink, Hadrian. She is major nastiness times 100. But we managed to fool her and she cowered back to her dungeon where she belongs.”

  “That’s pretty…amazing. You are good! Aron, I don’t know how to thank you. You saved me.” As they embraced, the time and distance between them dissolved and it was as if they’d never been apart. Neither spoke of the telepathic conversations they’d had. They didn’t need to. It was a part of them that they kept within themselves on a higher plane that felt sacred, so they never discussed it out loud.

  “Oh! And your mom called. You know, Petra? You spoke to her and told her that you’re okay,” Aron said. They both had a good laugh at this one.

  “And Dane,” Aron said, filling with passion, then hesitated. “He’s just…so perfect. I couldn’t have done any of this without him. I love him.”

  “I know. I’m so happy for you, Air.” They hugged again. It was the middle of the night. Aron was tired, Stella could tell.

  “Come on, you need to rest. We can talk more in the morning.” She tucked Aron into bed and turned off her lamp. Stella climbed into her own bed and pretended to fall asleep. She didn’t really need to sleep. She’d learned how to meditate on such a higher level that she was able to re-energize her body without it. So she used the night for rehearsing her plan.

  In the morning, they went to see Vern. Stella told him she was going to the Erickson’s for a while. He wasn’t thrilled to see her leave, but he didn’t see any alternative, so beyond his better judgment, he let her go. He trusted she was making the right choices. Stella assured him that she would be in touch when she was ready for his help. Before saying goodbye to Vern, she leaned close to him and pressed her lips sweetly to his cheek. Neither cared if anyone saw them. They were in a bubble, suspended from everything.

  She decided not to give a formal withdrawal from school to prolong the time she had here in California—keeping everyone in Minnesota a few steps behind. But it was agreed that Aron would no longer imitate her, either. Stella didn’t feel comfortable with that, insisting it would only compromise Aron’s safety.

  Stella knew the way to the Erickson’s and was determined to go alone. And she wanted to travel in the dark, claiming it would be easier for her to see. Stella wasn’t asking for permission but Aron reluctantly agreed, only after Stella promised to call immediately when she arrived safely at the house. Stella didn’t argue. She was willing to appease to get what she wanted. She filled a small backpack with some essentials and Aron texted ahead to let them know Stella was on her way. They said their goodbyes once again. Stella straddled her new shiny black scooter and was gone. After she’d left, Aron realized they didn’t even have a chance to discuss the touchy topic of Gunnar—what Stella was obviously worried about when she had scribbled in her notebook. Again, it would have to wait.

  Stella was graciously welcomed at the Erickson’s. Gram greeted her with an exuberant snort, the two ends of his body wagging opp
osite each other. She was happy to have his company.

  “We’re so glad you’re here,” Cybele cooed, motherly.

  “Our casa es su casa,” Gunnar added.

  “Thank you so much. I hope it’s not too much trouble,” said Stella. And they eased into an arrangement that seemed to work for everyone. It was the obvious solution. Maybe a little too obvious.

  ***********

  Petra had been waiting for news from Vern about Myra’s visit and had heard nothing. She finally broke down and called him. He told her about Stella’s decision to leave and take refuge at the Erickson’s. She was surprised that it had taken this long to make the move. She expected Stella to have already gone there. Petra assisted in hiding Stella’s abandonment of her classes, intercepting all notices from the Berkeley Admissions Office, keeping Erling out of it as long as possible. They were all praying for a miracle that they were sure would never come.

  ************

  But Stella wasn’t using the Erickson’s merely as a hideout. She had other reasons for planting herself there. She was waiting. Watching. Studying. It was part of her plan. And when she was home one evening while Cybele had gone out shopping, she discovered what she was looking for.

  Stella had been quietly meditating in the main living room while Gunnar was working in his home office. Her senses were heightened and she really wasn’t meditating at all. She heard him dial his phone—the soft depression of each button was barely audible, even to her well-trained ears. Centuries of lifetimes in the dark had fine-tuned her to the subtleties of sound and vibration. She was able to zero-in on him, see him in her mind, hear everything he was doing—even through the layers of wood and walls that divided them. She projected herself. It was almost as if she’d left her physical body and stood over his shoulder with her ear close to his, eavesdropping on his conversation.

  She knew whom he was calling and she knew why. He’d succumbed to the dark. But it had happened long ago, before anyone could keep him from it. He was a master at hiding his true self. No one knew who he really was. Not his wife, not his daughter. But now Stella knew. She’d deciphered his identity during her hypnagogia—the time spent in the secret room on campus. Obviously his soul had matured somewhat since his last life, but this phone call was proof that the leap was not far enough to fulfill the destiny he once held in such high regard. The idealist was crumbling from within.

  Gunnar argued with the voice on the other end of the call. He fought for power. He dug his claws into the dirt. He had the control and he wanted to keep it. No one would take it from him.

  When he ended the call and tiptoed quietly into the living room, Gunnar was reassured to see Stella had not moved a millimeter from the pose she’d been in an hour earlier. To him, things were going exactly as planned.

  ************

  The next weekend, Vern arrived with Aron and Dane for a visit. All jovial and enjoying each other’s company, it seemed as if nothing was troubling any of them. After dinner, there was mention of the Steinars and how they were bound to react when they learned of Stella’s decision to drop out of school. Vern kept his discussions with Petra to himself. They all began to make fantastic suggestions of ways they could help Stella escape. Send her to a deserted Caribbean island. Fly her to Europe. Call upon the best doctors from around the globe that the Fifth Circle had at its disposal. She politely answered with grins and chuckles and warm, thankful eyes. She knew much more than they all knew and none of those ideas would save her from what was about to happen.

  22

  Departure

  For two weeks, Stella lived in the quiet company of the Ericksons, following through with her private plans, and they were none the wiser. Cybele was delighted. Gunnar was empowered. Stella gained momentum.

  A week before Thanksgiving, Stella threw on her backpack and grabbed her helmet. The crescent moon provided little illumination and she used this to her advantage. Stella didn’t need much light to see. She patted Gram on the head, stealing one last furry kiss. Like a ghost, she rolled her Vespa down the sloped driveway and down the hill before she engaged the motor.

  When she spotted the first ATM, she stopped and inserted each credit card from her extensive collection. She withdrew every cash limit and tucked it into her bag. The roads were deserted except for a few night crawlers. She wasted no time proceeding to her next stop.

  As she crossed the Bay Bridge heading toward Berkeley, she pulled off at the Yerba Buena Island exit, but just to slip the scooter into the bicycle lane. She stopped to admire the city she had grown to love and was leaving behind. She knew she couldn’t hesitate long, so she retrieved a small velvet sack from her backpack and emptied her credit cards into it, along with her cell phone, which would act as a weight. Quickly she tied the drawstring and hopped off the scooter to get as close as she could to the edge of the bridge. She hurled the bag out into the darkened indigo waters of San Francisco Bay.

  She exited after the bridge, but did not head toward Berkeley. Instead, she navigated to the Amtrak Station in Emeryville. After handing the Vespa over to a grateful panhandler who’d been sleeping in a doorway near the back of the station, Stella went inside and purchased a ticket with cash. She had orchestrated this part of the plan perfectly—the train was leaving in only 30 minutes and she was able to board. Stella found her seat and settled in for the long trip. She wouldn’t waste one minute of it sleeping.

  Nearly eighteen hours later, Stella arrived at the PDX Airport/Amtrak Terminal in Portland, Oregon. Her mercurial body was not stiff and aching like it should be—she’d managed to transcend these superficial physical barriers. Sunglasses on and hair in a hat, she promptly moved to the ticket window, purchasing her next ticket, again with cash. Although everyone might quickly guess her final destination, she would not be bothered or followed traveling by train, and she appreciated the seclusion and extension of time. Within the hour she was leaving the City of Roses and settling in for the next leg of the journey.

  More than 38 hours later, Stella emerged once again from the steel cocoon and walked straight into the bone-chilling Minnesota air. She’d prepared herself for the icy shock of it, throwing a hood up over her head. It was 7 a.m. and her first mission was to find a good breakfast joint. The city of St. Paul didn’t disappoint. A few minutes later, she was sitting in Bonnie’s Café sipping strong black coffee with her sunglasses on to shield her from the morning rays filtering through the frosty front windows. When her belly was pleasantly filled with eggs and toast, she generously tipped her waitress and asked her to call a cab.

  Stella hopped in the back seat and directed the cabbie, “Luther Seminary, please.” It wasn’t far. She overpaid the driver when he delivered her to the destination. Stella had money to burn and intended to spend every dollar of it. She stepped out of the cab on Como Avenue and surveyed the campus. Luther Seminary was a teaching facility for people interested in a life of ministry, where they could explore and pursue their theological Christian goals. She’d done her homework weeks earlier and knew that the Seminary was hosting a “Call and Discernment Event,” where prospective students could visit the campus and talk with guidance counselors. Under a false identity, she’d reserved a guest room in Stub Hall. There were only a limited number of rooms available for the event, but she’d pledged a large donation to the facility and they gladly accommodated her.

  Although she didn’t agree with everything about it, Stella admired the Christian faith. With great respect, she met with seminary officials and attended the tours and discussions. It wasn’t integral to her plan, but more like something to pass the time. A safe haven. Absolutely no one on earth would suspect her whereabouts.

  23

  Missing

  It wasn’t until noon that Cybele finally asked, “Gunnar, have you seen Stella?” He hadn’t. She was already gone when they’d woken up and they both assumed she’d gone out for a coffee or something. Gram whined with a quizzical tilt of his head at the sound of her name.

&
nbsp; “No worries, babe. She’s a big girl. She’ll be back soon.” But she didn’t come back soon. They waited. The afternoon came and went. Dinnertime came and went. After the sun had set, they waited a little longer. They thought maybe she’d been caught in the bright daylight and wanted to wait until it was dark to drive home. But she didn’t arrive. They tried calling her phone at least thirty times all day; no answer, just a message, “This is Stella, I’ll call you back.” But she didn’t call back.

  Just after midnight, Gunnar dialed Aron. “Air, sorry to wake you up.”

  “What’s up Dad?” She was in the middle of a bizarre dream about witches and castles. Her heart began to pound when she realized what time it was. It had to be bad.

  “Have you seen Stella, Air?”

  “What do you mean? Like today? No. Why?”

  “Well—don’t panic. She was gone when we got up this morning. She took her scooter. She hasn’t been back and we can’t get her on her phone. We just thought she might’ve gone there to see you.”

  “No, no…she hasn’t been here. What about Vern—have you called him yet?”

  “Not yet. I suppose I should. Go back to sleep, Air. We’ll let you know when we find her. Okay?”

  “Okay, Dad. Call me. I’m worried.” Aron would not be sleeping that night, she knew that for sure.

  After some coaxing from Cybele, Gunnar reluctantly dialed Vern’s number. When he answered, he sounded wide-awake.

  “Gunnar. Why the late call? Is something wrong?” It was like he’d been waiting for it.

  “Maybe. I’m looking for Stella. She left early this morning. We haven’t heard from her. We’re just a little concerned. Aron hasn’t seen her. We’re hoping…” he hesitated. “We’re hoping you have.”