“Mr. Feret must be stopped,” Archie said. “Before he destroys us.”
I held up my hands. “Before we get into how we stop them, do we know why members and employees are switching sides?”
Madame Flora cleared her throat. “They want more.”
“More what?” Ann asked.
“More meaning,” Madame Flora said.
Archie threw up his hands. “Soul Identity is all about meaning—how can you say otherwise?”
The old Gypsy lady shrugged. “You focus so much on the bridges and the technical proofs that you’ve forgotten that people just want to it all to mean something. Andre Feret has come up with a great story, and he uses it to make people feel valuable, important, and relevant. Of course he’s attracting your members.”
Archie clenched his hands into fists. “As long as I have been the executive overseer, I have drawn the line between business and spirituality. It always has worked in the past, and it always will work in the future.”
She stared at him. “You know I have never agreed with you on this, Archibald.”
It seemed like Archie and Madame Flora were having an old, well-worn argument with each other.
Berry
wiped his palms on his lap. “I know I’m just a guest, but I’d like to say something.”
Archie nodded. “Please, Mr. Berringer, you are steps away from being sworn in as an overseer. I would very much like to hear your perspective.”
“Thanks,”
Berry
said. “From what I see, you have a successful financial gig going on.”
Archie smiled.
“But,”
Berry
continued, “Soul Identity doesn’t seem to have a soul.”
“Of course we have a soul,” Archie said loudly. “How dare you say that?”
Ann put her hand on Archie’s arm. “I’d like to hear the man out, Archibald.” Her voice was gentle, soothing.
Archie slumped back in his chair. “Fine.” He stared at
Berry
. “Continue educating us, Mr. Berringer.”
Berry
didn’t falter. “You know my story—I almost didn’t make it in because everybody seemed so caught up in following their rules that they forgot about why people needed you in the first place.”
“Go on,” Archie said.
Berry
stayed silent for a moment. “I didn’t want to join because of your science,” he said. “I wanted in because you offered me something worth living for.”
“That is good, is it not?” Archie asked.
Berry
nodded. “It’s great. But once I came here, you focused only on the science and the business. You talked about membership counts instead of the members, and depositary totals instead of the depositary contents.” He paused. “Mr. Morgan, I’ve been here almost a week now. We’ve had, what, seven sessions together?”
Archie nodded.
“In those seven meetings, you’ve never once asked me what it meant for me to become a member.”
“Of course I did not ask you this,” Archie said. “You joined for your own reasons, and I respect that privacy.”
Berry
sighed. “But what if I want more, like Flora says? Will you send me to a church for that deeper meaning?”
“That is the idea,” Archie said.
I jumped in. “But if that church is after your throat—like WorldWideSouls is—then you’ll be screwed.”
A long moment of silence.
Archie let out a big sigh. “Scott, you are not even a believer. How can you possibly have an opinion on this?”
I pulled Bob’s pamphlet out of my pocket and held it in the air. “I read this WorldWideSouls pamphlet. Bob said two things—it changed his life, and it convinced him that Soul Identity needs to be cleansed.”
I read them the first few paragraphs, and there was silence around the table again.
“These guys are fighting dirty,” Ann said.
“But it’s effective,” Val said. “Everybody loves a conspiracy. If they think you’re exploiting them, they’ll get angry enough to leave.”
“Angry enough to mutiny,” I said. “That’s what Feret’s planning, isn’t he? We know he’s paying your employees to join WorldWideSouls. He ordered Brian to blow up the guesthouse. He’s plotting to hurt us at the party tomorrow. He’s sucking the money out of the depositary. Feret won’t stop until he wins it all.”
“Why would Mr. Feret do this?” Archie asked. “Is it for his personal gain?”
“It’s revenge,” Val said. She shared what we learned about Feret’s past from the speech we found online. “Soul Identity destroyed his family, and now he’s out to destroy us.”
“But he won’t,” I said. “Ignore my talk about quitting. That was so Bob could go and share that with Feret.” I grabbed Val’s hands under the table and took a deep breath. “For the past two weeks, I’ve been flip-flopping on whether you guys ran a freaky cult or a sophisticated con job. But I get it now—the promise of Soul Identity is that it can let us focus on spiritual matters without having a religion rammed down our throats.”
I looked at Archie. “The Soul Identity bridges carry us across the most important chasms in our lives. I’m now a believer, and I believe we can win, and we must win, this fight. An independent Soul Identity is too important to too many people to be destroyed.”
Val squeezed my hands hard, then let go and wiped the tears from her eyes. Somebody started clapping, and everybody joined in.
“That’s the spirit, son,” Ann said. “Now where do we start?”
“First we fill in the gaps.” I pulled out the ring Tinless had given me. “Does anybody know what this is?”
Madame Flora held out her hand, and I passed it to her. We waited while she examined it. “Where did you get this?”
“In
India
,” I said. “Do you know anything about it?”
“I do.” She looked at Archie. “Scott may have stumbled across something very precious, Archibald.”
“That ring?” Archie asked.
Madame Flora shook her head. “It’s not just any ring.” She unzipped her purse and pulled out a tiny flashlight. “Somebody turn off the lights.”
I flipped the switch, and in the dark, Madame Flora held the ring over the table and aimed the flashlight’s beam onto the crystal. The soul identity logo was projected onto the table. “This is one of the original overseer rings,” she said.
I turned the lights on.
“Those rings are gone!” Archie said. He stared at me. “Where did you get this, Scott?”
I told him what Tinless had said: how Feret had lost it, and how Tinless had hidden it for ten years. “He said Feret believed this was his secret weapon.” I looked around. “What does an overseer ring do?”
“That ring is ancient,” Archie said. “Each original overseer of Psychen Euporos was given one by Darius.” He held out his hand. “May I?”
Madame Flora gave it to him.
He looked at the mounting. “There are seven sides to the crystal, and each side of the mounting has five fingers. That’s thirty-five fingers.”
“One for each overseer,” I said.
“Correct.” Archie looked at Ann. “Does the depositary still know how to verify an overseer ring?”
Ann snorted. “Of course we do. Though I never actually saw one before.” She held out her hand, and Archie passed the ring to her.
“Why would you need to verify it?” Val asked.
Ann looked up. “You know that every soul line collection is private, and it can only be opened by the current holder.”
Val nodded. “Of course.”
Ann smiled. “What you may not know is that there is a special case where an overseer may also open any soul line collection.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Special case?”
“The only one.” She held up the ring. “All they have to do is present their overseer ring to the depositary.”
“Then they can open anybody’s collection?” I asked.
“Anybody’s,” she said. “However, that rule has been moot for the last century, as all the rings were gone.”
“And now Mr. Morgan can peek into everybody’s collection. How can that help us?” Val asked.
Nobody answered.
“I think we need to nail down Feret’s next move.” I looked around the table. “We know from the pamphlet that he wants to install himself as the only overseer, and we know from our online chat that he plans to make Brian the head of the depositary. We know that tomorrow is his chance to cleanse the organization.”
They all looked at me as I paused.
“My guess is that he’s going to somehow try to kill Archie and Ann at Bob’s century party,” I said.
“Do you know how?” Val asked.
I shrugged. “In some very public and dramatic way.” I turned to Archie. “Can you walk us through the agenda for the ceremony?”
Archie nodded. “The overseers, depositary chief, and the centuriat march down the aisle and sit on the dais. The overseers and centuriat make speeches, each overseer toasts the centuriat, and we all march out.”
“Sounds like a graduation,” Val said.
Archie smiled. “It is a graduation of sorts. Bob will be one of two serving centuriati in our employ.” He scratched his head. “It is more like a tenure ceremony for university professors. Centuriati can never be dismissed for any reason.”
“Hold it right there, partner,” I said. “Bob will have a free ride for the rest of his life?”
Archie nodded. “He and his future carriers. And I cannot understand why he would give it all up to join WorldWideSouls.”
“He’s not going to give it up,” I pointed out. “The century party is tomorrow. Nothing’s going to happen until after he graduates. And after tomorrow, Bob will be a delivery person for as long as he wants, no matter what he does.”
Archie nodded.
“That would make him pretty valuable to Feret,” I said.
His eyes widened.
“Who came up with this centuriat idea, anyway?” I asked.
“The rule has been around for more than a thousand years,” Archie said.
“So get rid of it.”
Berry
said.
Archie frowned. “We cannot. It is inviolable.”
“Come again?”
Berry
asked.
“Once upon a time our executive overseers could write inviolable rules. This particular rule dictates century parties on the hundred year anniversary, and grants eternal tenure to all centuriati. Inviolable rules cannot be changed.”
Ann cleared her throat. “Actually, that’s not entirely true.”
Archie stared at her. “Of course it is. I reviewed the rule this morning as part of my preparations.”
She shook her head. “The ‘cannot be changed’ is wrong.”
“You cannot change any executive overseer’s inviolable rule,” Archie said. “To do so would tear apart the very fabric of our organization.”
Ann held up the ring. “It took an overseer ring to enact an inviolable rule. And it takes an overseer ring to change it.”
“That explains an even better reason why that ring’s so valuable,” I said.
I looked around the table again. Everybody had their eyes on me. “So we have a working hypothesis,” I said. “Feret will try to kill Ann and Archie tomorrow and become the executive overseer. He’s planning to make Brian his depositary chief, and he’ll to turn this organization into his own private Venice-based bank account.”
Everybody nodded.
“How are we going to stop him?” Val asked.
I thought for a minute. “We do have a few arrows in our quiver,” I said. “We know about Bob, Elizabeth, and Brian when they think we don’t. We have proof that
Berry
’s the real overseer. We have a ring which gets Archie into the depositary and lets him override some rules.” I pointed at Val. “And we can hack into both WorldWideSouls and Soul Identity.”
“We’re using those arrows to try and stop a tank,” Ann said.
I shrugged. “It’s what we’ve got. But I like your analogy. Feret’s tank must be disabled with just four arrows.”
“Then we’d damn well better shoot straight.” Ann looked around the room. “You heard the man. Let’s put together a plan for how we’re gonna save our organization.”
And in the next four hours, we did.
Val looked up from
my laptop. “It’s almost ten,” she said. “They should be back from their depositary trip.”
We had wrapped up the meeting shortly after midnight. Val and I had been tag-team programming since early morning while Ann, Archie, and
Berry
went to depositary and match committee. We had planned for everybody to meet at ten to fine-tune our plan based on what we all learned.
She sighed. “Mr. Morgan is acting awfully stressed out—do you think he can he keep it together?”
“He has to last for two more days, and for half of that, he and Ann will be playing dead.” I smiled. “Hopefully the forced rest will do him good.”
“Let’s hope so.” She leaned back. “I’m all done. Your Dad’s now a level four WorldWideSouls member, and he’s registered to be in
Venice
on Saturday.”
“Did you hijack somebody’s soul line?”
“No, I faked a brand new identity.” She pointed to the screen and I saw Dad’s eyes in close-up. “That photo of him in
Iceland
produced the cleanest image.”
“Great,” I said. “I still need to finish the match program fixes and write the injector—my turn on the laptop.”
She slid it over my way. “Don’t forget to email your parents,” she said.
We decided late last night to fly my folks to
Venice
to help us turn Feret’s meeting around.
“They’re always clamoring to do something cool,” I said. “And how could they say no to getting whisked off to
Europe
in a private jet?” I sent the email, then banged out the rest of my code. “When should the injector kick in?” I asked.
“As late as possible,” Val said. “We don’t want any matches failing until after the meeting in
Venice
starts.”
I nodded. “The de-wormed matching program will go live at three fifteen p.m.
Venice
time. After that, we’ll block all fake matches.”
“
Molodets
.” She pointed at the clock. “It’s now ten—let’s see how everybody made out.”
The six of us arrived in the dining room at the same time.
Archie set a thick folder in front of him and gave us a weary smile. “The ring worked like a charm, and the depositary procedures were just as Ann said.”
“Show them what you found, Mr. Morgan,”
Berry
said.
Archie opened the folder. “I took the liberty to peek into Brian’s soul line collection.”
“It’s probably chock full of corny coffee jokes,” I said.
Archie shook his head. “No coffee jokes, I’m sorry if that disappoints you.” His eyes were twinkling.
He seemed awfully perky. “Did you skip your coffee this morning?” I asked.
“I fed it to my plants, and I feel great.” He looked around the table at each of us, then smiled. “Last night we started fighting back,” he said. “By tomorrow evening, Soul Identity will be safe again.”
“And improved, I hope,”
Berry
said.
“Yes, Mr. Berringer, improved. For you shall become an overseer, and together we shall recover our soul.”
“Now we’re talking.” Ann wore a big smile.
He nodded to Ann. Then he pulled a sheet of paper out of the folder and passed it to me. The front side showed two medicines, some measurements, and long medical descriptions.
“He was putting the first in my coffee and the second in the muffins,” Archie said.
“No wonder you were depressed,” I said. “Listlessness, inattentiveness, mild paranoia, clinical depression,” I read aloud.
He nodded. “I always knew that little bastard was trying to kill me. But turn to the most important side.”
The back contained one short phrase: “Century party toast: palytoxin.”
Archie turned to Ann. “That is neither a brand of champagne nor is it a type of bread. That is how they wish to kill us this afternoon.”
“Well, now we know,” Ann said. “Let’s get ourselves an antidote.”
Val was typing on my laptop. “I’m afraid not,” she said. “Palytoxin is a fast acting vasoconstrictor.” She read for a minute and then looked up. “Your only antidote is an immediate injection of papervine directly into your heart. And then you’d still probably die.”
Ann looked at Archie. “Suddenly this doesn’t sound so fun.”
I leaned over and read Val’s screen. Palytoxin–formula C
129
H
223
N
3
O
54
—was derived from a soft coral. “It causes unconsciousness in seconds, and death in minutes,” I read.
“Great,” Ann said. “Just great.”
I read further down the page. It told how the Hawaiians ground up the coral and dipped their spear tips in it. I kept clicking. I read that palytoxin was stable in lower alcohols, and that the lethal dose for humans is less than five micrograms.
We had to adjust our plan. “Does anybody know of a drug that appears to kill you but doesn’t?” I asked.
Madame Flora smiled. “You’re thinking about putting Archibald and Ann into a medically induced coma?”
I nodded. “So everybody thinks they’re dead.”
“Hold on now,” Ann said. “You want to drug us into a coma?”
Madame Flora looked at me. “Thiopental, or sodium pentothal, could work.”
“Isn’t that truth serum?” Val asked.
“In the right dosage—but it’s also an anesthetic that knocks you out quickly.” Madame Flora turned to Ann. “It has no side effects.”
Val was typing on the laptop again. “Except death,” she said. “It says here that many
Pearl Harbor
victims died after being treated for shock with overdoses of sodium pentothal.”
“Well, there is that,” Madame Flora said. “We’ve come a long way medically since nineteen forty-one.” She smiled. “If you’d like, we can do a dry run.”
“I’m sure my future son-in-law would love to be a guinea pig,” Ann said.
I liked that idea. It would be good for Bob to help our cause, even if it were unknowingly.
“I can call him,” I said. “He’s trying to recruit me and Val, anyway.”
Ann nodded. “Then when he rings my doorbell, we’ll nab him.” She looked at Val. “How long does it take to wear off?”
Madame Flora answered. “Five to ten minutes,” she said, “unless you keep up the dosage. It’s also an amnesiac, so he won’t remember being drugged.”
Maybe we could take advantage of the truth serum and figure out what else Bob knew.
Ann turned to Archie. “It ain’t what we wanted, but we’ve got to fool Feret.”
Archie nodded. “We must do it. We need Mr. Feret, and all of WorldWideSouls, convinced that they have cut the head off Soul Identity.”
Ann pointed at the clock. “We’re running out of time to get in front of the match committee.”
Archie and Ann were going to use
Berry
’s old photograph and the computer-generated reader sheets to make
Berry
a member while the sabotaged match program still showed him with a non-overseer identity. Then, with any luck, the fixed matching program would automatically declare him, not Feret, the overseer.
“Good luck,” I said.
“Piece of cake,” Ann said. “I’ll wrap those committee members right around my pinky.”
Madame Flora cleared her throat. “While you’re busy wrapping, I’ll work up three doses of thiopental.”
Now why did Madame Flora know so much about thiopental?
The six of us met again after lunch.
“The match committee made
Berry
an official Soul Identity member,” Ann said.
“And you did wrap them around your little finger.”
Berry
pulled a plastic card out of his pocket. “The image is a picture of my good eye’s iris.”
I took the card and looked at it. “How does it work?” I asked.
“Whenever I need to have my identity read, they verify my right eye and call the depositary. My soul identity is now on file with them.”
“Nobody else can use the card?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Their right eye won’t match mine.”
“We’ve been using these cards for years,” Ann said. “Members who lose an eye after joining Soul Identity still need a way to identify themselves.”
I nodded. “What do you do for people who lose both eyes?”
“We give them cards with their fingerprints on them.” Archie smiled. “To anticipate your next question, we have never had an eyeless, fingerless member. Our security is sufficient on these cards.”
The card was definitely convenient, but not secure.
I held it up. “All I’d have to do to become an overseer would be to keep this card and replace the image on front with a picture of my own right eye.”
Archie’s brows furrowed, and then he sighed. “You would have to poke out your other eye to really look authentic, but you’re right, Scott.” He shook his head. “Maybe it’s secure because we have less than a hundred cards out there. Our delivery people get to know the one-eyed card carriers.”
That made sense. “Your system works for its size.” I handed the card back to
Berry
. “Did you guys get the rest of your work done?”
“Archie revoked the centuriat rule, effective tomorrow morning,” Ann said.
“The depositary will keep it quiet until then.” Archie smiled. “And lastly, we had a chat with Mr. Feret.”
“Did he take the bait?” Val asked.
“Hook, line, and sinker,” Ann said. “Archibald told Andre to shape up, because he was going to start using the ring on Monday to write some new rules.”
Archie frowned. “Mr. Feret could not take his eyes off that ring. It seems that we dodged a major bullet when he lost it in
India
ten years ago.”
Madame Flora passed Archie a box. “Here’s the fake ring—the jeweler did a nice job with it. Wear it to the party.”
Archie slipped the real ring off his finger and exchanged it for the one in the box. “I wonder if we will even need this,” he said.
Madame Flora placed three plastic sandwich bags on the table. “I have three sets of thiopental ready to go.”
“How does it work?” Ann asked.
Madame Flora slid a bag to Ann. “We stick a needle in your arm, and then we’ll use a remote control to knock you out during the toast.”
Ann opened the bag and pulled out a white plastic container the size of a matchbox. Plastic tubing connected the box to a needle.
“That box holds a pump that sends the serum into your blood stream,” Madame Flora said.
Ann glanced at me. “Is the guinea pig coming?”
I nodded. “At two thirty. He’s driving me and Val to the party.”
She smiled. “We’ll have to hurry to be ready.”
Bob arrived on time, and I opened the door for him. “Before we go,” I said, “Archie and Ann want a quick update on what you learned from the WorldWideSouls guys last night.”
Bob looked at his watch. “We need to hurry,” he said. “I can’t be late to my own century party.” He looked past me. “Is Val ready?”
I nodded. “Come on in, we’re all in the dining room.”
“We’d better make this quick,” he said as he followed me in and sat at the table.
Ann smiled at him. “How are you Bob?”
He smiled back. “Fine, Ms. Blake. And yourself?”
Ann frowned. “I barely saw
Elizabeth
last night.”
Bob shifted in his seat. “I guess you can catch up at the century party.” He looked at his watch again. “We really need to leave.”
“Bob, were you able to meet with Mr. Feret?” Archie asked.
Bob shook his head. “No, Mr. Morgan. He hasn’t been available. I’m afraid that I will have to fly to
Venice
to meet him.”
As Bob was answering Archie, Madame Flora crept up behind him. I put my hand on his shoulder. “Hold still, Bob, just for a second. You have something on your neck.”
Bob sat still, and I smacked him on the back of his neck. His hand flew up, and Madame Flora poked him with the needle. Within ten seconds, Bob’s eyes glazed over, and he slumped forward in his chair.
I caught his head and lowered it to the table.
Madame Flora had her fingers on Bob’s neck. “His pulse is steady, but he’s not breathing.” She motioned to me. “Straighten his neck before he suffocates.”
I repositioned Bob’s head.
Ann threw Archie a nervous glance. “He looks dead all right,” she said.
Madame Flora looked at her watch. “He’ll be fully recovered in five minutes,” she said. “Now’s the time to ask him questions.”
“Are you sure he won’t remember anything?” Ann asked.
“Positive,” Madame Flora said. “I’ve done this a few times.”
I raised my eyebrows. “At your palm reading place?”
“Of course.” She looked at our shocked expressions. “What, did you really think I could tell somebody about their past without their help?”