Pulling The Dragon's Tail (3 page)

It seemed as if she could peer into the very
torments of his soul. CHOFA’s elders had chosen wisely when they
selected Sister Mariah to replace their founder, Sister Sarah (who
was the former astronaut, Winifred Bakila). Yet even Sister Mariah
didn’t know about the Alpha Group.

“True,” he reluctantly admitted. Nate had left
the Christian faith in the 2020s when credible evidence was
uncovered that Jesus had survived his crucifixion, and had gone on
to marry, father children and had finally died when the Romans
sacked Jerusalem in 70 AD. Nate was well aware of science’s rude
and incessant trampling on the tenets of other religious faiths.
Historical analysis had cast severe doubt on Hinduism while
archeological finds did the same for Islam.

However, he hadn’t been an easy convert to the
Church of Abraham, but once he had accepted the Seamlessness
Principle, he had embraced it wholeheartedly. And after he had put
his life on the line in the midst of armed conflicts in Argentina
and Borneo, and had witnessed the transforming power of
non-violence, he had become a true believer in radical pacifism.
Still, he wondered if non-violence would be practical in all
conflicts across all situations. Nate continued, “As the End-Date
approaches—”

“Ah, your favorite topic,” she said with a
teasing smile. “Perhaps someday we’ll discuss our contingency plans
you helped set up in case England freezes over.”

”That’s what we should be focusing on, Sister
Mariah! Not diverting precious resources to proving whether a
wormhole exists to transport Father Abraham! If the Father says the
wormhole exists then surely it must.”

She paused and gazed deeply into his unblinking
eyes. “I’ve seen that look before, my son; this passion about the
End-Date. The Father has sensed your restlessness and His plans
will soon carry you away from this Retreat Center. I beseech you to
continue serving Him with your heart, soul, and mind. But I must
remind you that our church is not just a new religion but is also a
new
kind
of religion.”

“New kind of religion?”

“Yes,” she had replied. “We promote full
integration of science and spirituality. The Church of Abraham is
evolving even as humanity evolves.”

“Hmmph. Humanity is proving to be quite stubborn
and non-evolving,’ he replied.

“Yes,” Sister Mariah agreed with a sigh. “When
we don’t live as the Father directs, we all suffer.”

“May I ask one more question about the
End-Date?”

She nodded thoughtfully, again taking his
persistence in stride.

“If the End-Date ice age occurs, hopefully our
non-violent principles will be fully embraced by enough people to
avoid chaos and war. I envision that our members would be promoted
to higher levels of power in a post End-Date world. But I worry
about the total rejection of force being applicable in absolutely
every
situation. How are church members going to handle
violence and unrest, respond directly to crime, and set policies
for law enforcement?”

Sister Mariah replied in a tone brimming with
confidence in Father Abraham’s inter-galactic truth. “By the same
methods we have always done so; by laying down our lives and by not
taking up arms or committing violence. I do not doubt that the
Father’s Seamlessness Principle will work in even the most
complicated of situations.”

Nate frowned. “But the death rate of our members
is substantially higher when confronting gang violence and
terrorism. I’m deeply committed to avoiding force, but I understand
that the definition of force has been debated among church members.
I’ve also read studies showing the use of non-lethal weapons to be
highly effective at quelling—”

Sister Mariah’s eyes lit up with passion.
“NEVER! We are
never
to use weapons of any kind nor will
CHOFA ever condone or endorse their use. I’m well aware of this
debate on the limited use of non-lethal weaponry in our missions. A
non-lethal gun is still a gun, and force is force. Father Abraham
is very clear: no force or violence will ever be used by a church
member.”

“But,” he protested, “what if—”

“Nate,” she interrupted firmly. “You will have
to trust Father Abraham’s non-violent principles. He asks us to be
faithful to those principles even when it doesn’t make sense to the
world. Yes—the church is evolving; No, there will never be any
compromise of the Seamlessness Principle. The Father has said
non-violence is a constant, unifying, necessary instrument which
has worked across untold galaxies and civilizations.”

For the first time since accepting the
Seamlessness Principle years earlier, Nate struggled to accept the
totality of her words. Although convinced his recent acquisition of
a non-lethal PPD, a personal protective device, which Dugan carried
for emergencies, didn’t compromise his faith, now was not the time
to reveal this to Sister Mariah.

She gazed sternly at him, pondering the words of
one of her most faithful adherents. “You don’t doubt Father
Abraham, you doubt the efficacy of the Seamlessness Principle. How
long has it been since you served as a peace emissary in a war
zone?”

“Borneo. Two years ago,” answered Nate.

“Yes. I see. Perhaps when your journey is over
and you return here to the Center, it will be time for you to serve
in another—” An insistent beep suddenly sounded in her ear mike.
“Pardon me, I have a priority call.” She clicked a button on her
wrist band. “Yes,” she said to a concealed mike. The creases in her
face grew more pronounced. “I see. Uh-huh. I understand. Any
motives? Okay. Thank you.”

She walked to the window. With left hand
outstretched, she gracefully touched each finger to the
corresponding ones on the right hand. She folded them together,
then opened her palms heavenward and simultaneously glanced
upwards; the sign of CHOFA. “Take her into your keeping, Father.
Eyes open, face to the sky.”

With a quick glance toward Nate, she sighed. She
returned her gaze to the window and began the somber assessment.
“It’s curious, my son. An unusual death of one of our members in
Jerusalem.”

“Oh?” His mind flashed through pictures of his
many friends serving the church there.

“Yes. But she wasn’t in an active conflict zone.
I’d always thought Jerusalem was safer these days. A single
murder…in her home…gruesome.” She shivered.

His heart raced.
Could it be?

As if reading his mind, she continued. “Her name
is Wakely Karris. She worked with sexually exploited women.”

He froze in fear.
Wakely! Father Abraham!
No!

“Did you know her?” she asked, noting his pained
expression.

“Uh-huh,” was all he could muster.
How could
this have happened? After sixty years! I know she still practiced
the safety protocols that Hilliard taught us. Had she let her guard
down? If so, why? Oh, Wakely!

Struggling to his feet, he had joined her at the
window. The leaden weight felt in the pit of his stomach had told
him something more disturbing.
These things happen, yes. They
just don’t happen to one of US.
“Yes, I know her, um, quite
well.” As he finished making the sign of CHOFA, Sister Mariah had
put her arm around him. He had needed her support, for at that
moment he felt as weary as if he had just completed a marathon.

* * * * * *

Knees somewhat steadier now, he began a slow
trot. The towering stone monuments of Stonehenge quickly
approached. He’d always loved the ancient, ethereal feel of
Stonehenge. It reminded him how his decades-long search for
spiritual fulfillment ended in 2048 when he had heard the former
astronaut Winifred Bakila speak. She called herself Sister Sarah,
and her transforming story of her near-death experience and
encounter with Father Abraham had profoundly resonated with
him.

Nate was convinced that the Father’s visit with
Winifred Bakila was authentic. What else besides a super
technological intervention from this super being could explain her
return from brain death following hours floating in a lifeless
space vessel? This rock-solid assurance of how the universe
operated powered Nate’s life. A super technological being billions
of years old, revealing himself to lesser creatures at a critical
time in their development, the integration of science and
spirituality; this was an enlightened faith that excited millions
of people.

During late night worship services, he always
delighted in the brilliant, star-strewn sky, which seemed to
stretch all the way to Andromeda, Father Abraham’s home.
Gotta
get a hold of myself! But the wormhole …and Wakely. Help me to
accept your will, Father.

Sweat mixed with tears welled up in his eyes as
he fought for control of his emotions. Wiping his eyes with the
back of his hand, he looked upward, steadying his vision toward
Andromeda. The Church of Abraham’s prayer ritual was unmistakably
distinctive. The fingers of his left hand united with those of his
right, symbolizing the goal of uniting the ten main spiritual
traditions of humanity. With his eyes open to reality, Nate
stretched out his arms in a peaceful, trusting-the-universe stance.
The palms of his hands were turned up, ready to be the vessel of
Father Abraham’s galactic project to save humanity from
self-destruction.
Father, what is the implication if science
proves the wormhole to be impossible? Forgive me for placing our
science above yours. And grant me the courage to face the new
journey you have placed before Dugan and me. Let it be so. Eyes
open and face to the sky.

He wanted to run hard once more, but even his
genetically-enhanced legs didn’t have that kind of stamina.

Dugan interrupted his ruminations. “I have
located the source of the attempted security breach.”

“Yes.”

“It is from Gideon’s Army.”

“Origination?”

“Jerusalem.”

“I don’t like the sound of that—at all.” At that
moment Nate’s safety zone completely vanished. He dropped to the
ground beside Dugan, staring into the soft eyes of his
cyberfriend.

For a number of months he and Dugan had been
uncovering information that could change his life and many others,
information about his past, about the Alpha Group, about the state
of the world. Research/reflection/relaxation time was over. Time,
in fact, was now the enemy. He had to act, and act quickly. Despite
the wormhole dilemma and a creeping seed of doubt about the
viability of non-violence, he was determined to go wherever Father
Abraham led him.

With one hand he gently cupped the CCRs snout,
and with the other, lovingly stroked his head of tawny fur.
“Where’d you say this Campbell Devereaux is?”

“New York City.”

“New York?”

“Manhattan, to be specific.”

“Book us a ticket there on a hovercraft, via
Iceland and Newfoundland.” He once again made the sign of CHOFA.
I just hope Manhattan is safer than Jerusalem.

Inexorably the great techno beast sucked Nate
Kristopher inside. He tried to wriggle free but the strong sticky
tongue gripped his body ever more tightly. The terrifying clamor
within the beast drowned out his screams. Finally the deafening
CHUG-CLANG-CLANK
ceased, leaving only his feet exposed. The
monster machine had him!

The computerized demon tore at his every neuron,
reassembling his brain. His very soul was being wrenched out of him
as it invaded his innermost thoughts.

“STOP! This can’t be happening! I’m not insane
this time! Somebody please help me! Father Abraham! SAVE ME!”

Drenched in sweat, heart racing, he awoke. Bed
sheets were tossed on the floor. As the suffocating fog of reality
descended upon him, he realized his plight: stuck in a psychiatric
hospital! How could his simple, straightforward request three days
ago in Dr. Campbell Devereaux’s counseling office—he just wanted to
tell her the truth about her grandfather—how could it lead to
this?

He recalled Devereaux’s look of chagrin. The
chagrin had turned to doubt. Then, as he shared about the longevity
experiment of her grandfather, Mitchell Hilliard—as succinctly as
he had endlessly rehearsed it— fear enveloped her face. When he
mentioned his true age...an alarm…then handcuffs…a
struggle…then…

A large presence loomed over him. “Mr.
Kristopher. Tsk. Tsk. Are you going to do this to me every morning?
You’ve been setting off the nursing station alarms with your
nightmares. And then they have to send in the expert to calm you
down. Just relax.” A strong, rough hand gripped his shoulder.
“Reviewing too many Neuro Shock videos, I bet. Or maybe you’ve been
hanging out with Dr. Devastate too long. Devereaux
never
lets anyone escape from Neuro Shock Therapy. So it’s best you just
accept it.” This booming raspy bass voice belonged to Keagan
Maddox, the most experienced psychiatric technician at the Ellis
Clinic.

No reassuring demeanor came from Keagan; only
sternly barked, blunt reality. His prominent reddish mustache
twitched expectantly like a cat’s tail. With his powerful hand he
grabbed Nate’s forearm and pinned it against the bed. Deftly,
Keagan reached into his white coat breast pocket and extracted a
small syringe. “More anti-anxiety transdermal for my faavooorite
patient. Getting you
all
ready for The
Machine.”

* * * * * *

Several hours later, with the medication’s
effects waning, Nate woke up. Panic threatened to engulf him again,
like a boat being tossed to and fro in a storm. Sweat stained his
light blue hospital gown. Heart pounding, he stood up to catch the
breath being squeezed out of him.

He grabbed an octagonal-shaped puzzle from the
bedside table. A temptation to vent his frustration by throwing it
at the wall crossed his mind. “I’ll never solve it!” he muttered.
The ingenious creation would have exploded into a thousand pieces,
shattering with it all his hopes.