TWENTY

Her eyes snapped open. Instantly alert and fully awake, carefully she moved out from under Evan’s arm. There had been no noise, or light to penetrate the room to cause her to wake. The digital numbers on the clock beside Evan’s side of the bed glowed at 9:43 a.m. Hell! She knew from past experiences that she required a minimum of six and a half hours of sleep if she wanted to be at all functional. She should need two and a half hours more. Walking into her bedroom, Valarie sat on the edge of the bed clear headed and refreshed. Realization as to what she had to do now was like waking, abrupt and instantaneous.

Without further thought, she called room service. They were told to have a pitcher of fresh squeezed orange juice and grapefruit juice, two pots of coffee, a basket of muffins, danishes and assorted bagels with cream cream sent to the suite in thirty minutes exactly. Pausing a moment she had surprised herself at her own brashness in how she had ordered breakfast. Was her new wealth to blame, or the fact that she had things to do and no time to waste. The possible answer eluded her as she dialed the next number. Gil answered the phone as she had hoped. He was told not to wake Fran and to be at their suite in exactly thirty-five minutes. The conversation ended before Gil could object.

As she headed into the bathroom, she realized she had just ordered two people around within five minutes; very unlike herself.

* * * * * * *

The sound of the telephone brought him to instant alertness. The receiver was to his ear before the second ring. The gruff ‘Hello, Major Hammons’ was an automatic response from years in the military. The short hairs on the back of his neck began to raise as he listened to the voice giving him instructions, and no opportunity for a response. “Yes, sir,” was his mechanical response as he replaced the phone in the cradle.

As the cold water splashed over his head, he replayed the brief one sided conversation in his head for the eighth time. ‘Gil, this is Val. I don’t want to talk to Fran. I want to talk with you, alone, in my suite in thirty-five minutes. It’s doubtful that Fran is awake already, so let her sleep. If she is awake, make an excuse to get away for thirty minutes. We have to talk. I’ll see you in thirty-five minutes.’

No hello, no good-bye, just facts and instructions. She could have been in the military for years herself, which he guessed was why he instinctively had said ‘Yes, sir.’

It was the tone of voice that had heightened awareness. He had heard that tone only twice before in his long career. Once in Vietnam, where he had been interrogating a captured Cong commander. For hours the prisoner had sat quietly, not answering any question. Then he said something in Vietnamese in a perfectly controlled and modulated voice. Before anyone could react, he was out of his seat running at full speed at the concrete block wall. With head tilted down like he was going to make a tackle, he hit the wall with the crown of his head first. The sudden impact compressed his spine, breaking his neck between the third and fourth vertebrae. Fanaticism, the myopic killer of millions.

The second time was in Lebanon, with a captured terrorist. A firefight had preceded his capture and he had been shot four times. Six hours in surgery, with a good prognosis, the doctors did not think the terrorist posed any type of threat post-op. When the questioning started twenty hours later, the terrorist looked the Major directly in the eyes, said ‘Allah is great, and I will live forever in paradise.’ He then proceeded to tear off the surgical bandages and rip open the stitches, effectively gutting himself. With a yell of horrific pain the terrorist reached into his own abdomen to tear at the sensitive flesh. Both times the calm voice had preceded death, and he wondered what Valarie could be contemplating.

Surely, she had known of Evan’s abilities before last night, so the demonstration with the three men could not have been as upsetting for her as it had been for Fran and himself. Poor Fran, it had taken him the better part of an hour to calm down enough to allow exhaustion to carry her to sleep.

She was convinced that Evan was no longer human, and she was insisting that Gil get Val away from that man. Maybe Valarie didn’t want the changes for herself now. What if she was already changing to be like Evan with all of his abilities. If she was like Evan, but a much younger version, she should be where he concentrates his efforts. It would definitely be easier than trying to ensnare Evan.

He had to have either one to take to the General. Either would advance the project by years; maybe even decades with Evan. The tactical advantages were incalculable. It didn’t matter which he had with him, but he would have one. Sooner than later.

* * * * * * *

The shower was invigorating. For the first time in her life she moved the water selector from hot to cold. Cold to hot after a few minutes and finally back to cold before the water was turned off. She stepped out of the shower feeling as though each cell was in perfect harmony with every other cell, and even the world around her. Her body was a masterpiece of perfection in design and she controlled it now with confidence.

As she brushed her teeth, she noticed the row of expensive fragrances she had just bought the day before reflected in the mirror. With a mental command and tiny unconscious nod of her head, the bottles rose from the counter. They drifted in the air towards her. Quickly rinsing her mouth, she turned to stare at the six bottles. They stopped and hovered six inches above the counter. Nodding her chin out towards the bottles, they started to return to the space they had just vacated. Only now they arranged themselves according to height with the tallest in the corner. She was so happy and proud of herself. She had demonstrated the first element to her training: control. Her first and the most important to anything else, always be in control, of yourself and your environment.

Control is what Evan had last night. He did not fear, or doubt, or allow indecision to prevent him from acting. He was in control; control of himself, control of his environment, control of the energies and things in his environment to enhance his abilities. Evan understands how to control directly and indirectly. Soon so would she.

To control both directly and indirectly would give her the power to control her own life and destiny. Thus would the feeling of satisfaction over her life be greater, since she would not be subjected to the vagaries of life itself. She would be self assured in being a capable woman.

She looked at her reflection in the mirror, to see if she had changed in the past couple of days. She looked like Valarie Williams. She felt better than the old Valarie Williams. Then again, just cause she felt more confident, how should that have changed how she looked. Should she now have a third eye? Two great horns, or even one horn. Should she be taller, although, now she carried herself better. Maybe a second head would be the right look now. In reality, she understood that a mental change did not mean a physical change.

This was the fulfillment of her life’s meaning. The reason for her very existence. She was Evan Cooper’s Other, and nobody, not this Devlin person, or Kirkland, or even Cindy would stop her from taking her rightful place. To become one with Evan.

Cindy, that one name a few hours ago would have created a whirlwind of emotions in her from fear to contempt. Now, all she felt was an emptiness, even sadness for the woman. Cindy was over for everyone except for what Cindy thought in her own mind. She had felt pity for the woman as the LVPD police woman walked her out of the suite in handcuffs. She came for money she had no rights too, and now she would leave jobless and off to jail for maybe years. No, to be honest, there had been feelings of happiness mixed with relief. She now knew that Evan had finally exorcized Cindy from his mind. She did not live there any more, even in the furthest corners of Evan’s vast mind.

Upon further reflection, Valarie grieved for Evan and what he must be feeling, the loss of first love. All she wanted to do was comfort him, so when he only wanted to cuddle this morning, she accepted it and moved closer. It was truly over, but that did not mean it still did not hurt.

* * * * * * *

Major Gil Hammons was not prepared for what he saw when Valarie opened the door. She was beautiful, classic, regal. He had never noticed before now. Why? To him, Valarie was Fran’s rather plain girlfriend, but not to be classified as beautiful. He stumbled over his ‘hellos’ as he came into the suite, trying hard to think of the difference that made her so beautiful today and not yesterday.

Her hair was dark and lustrous. The features of her face when taken separately were simple and un-noteworthy. Yet today they were part of a perfection that glowed with her smile. The clear direct gaze of her green eyes. The high cheeks with a rosy glow. An aquiline nose, narrow and straight, with just a slight upturn at the tip. Pink inviting lips, that captured the eyes to watch. Her body was thin, lithe, and slightly muscular. There was something about it that made him want her in his arms. She carried herself perfectly erect, which he knew few people did anymore. Most people walked slightly bent and leaning forward, as if they were carrying all of life's problems on the shoulders everywhere they went. Her movements were graceful, like a ballerina, gliding rather than walking.

But she was the same person he had seen dozens of times in Tucson, and last night. In the elegant black, gold, and silver designer dress, diamond necklace and earrings, and carefully applied make-up she looked great, but beautiful?

“Orange juice or grapefruit juice? They’re both fresh,” Valarie asked.

“Orange, please.” The sound of her voice breaking his introspective.

“Gil, I’ll get right to the point of why I wanted to see you this morning. I apologize if I woke you. I want to know the real reason why you and Fran are in Vegas. I’ll tell you now that I don’t believe for a moment you just wanted to come up for a fun weekend. Especially the one weekend we are also here.”

“That’s the reason, believe it or not,” and he studied her over the rim of his glass.

“From what Fran has told me, and what I’ve seen for myself the times we’ve been together, a fun weekend for you is field stripping your service pistol and rifles. Maybe a hunting trip, but definitely not a weekend in Vegas doing things you consider a complete waste of time. You are not a spontaneous person, Gil. So your answer is an outright lie, and I find it offensive.”

Gil was a little startled by her insight, and that she had called him a liar to his face. His job was not just something he worked nine to five, Monday through Friday. He lived his work. His mind never shuts down, which sometimes gives other people the impression that he is preoccupied. He had also gained the reputation of never doing anything without first knowing how it would turn out.

He remembered overhearing two Captains talking, ‘that Major Hammons must live the most boring life there is knowing exactly what’s going to happen next in his life. I’ll bet he already knows where, how he’s going to die and what people will say at his funeral.’ It wasn’t all true, but close enough. He did always have a reason for why he did something.

"If I didn’t come here for the fun of it, then maybe you should tell me why I came to Vegas,” The Major asked, trying to gauge what she knew or suspected.

“Evan.”

Gil wondered if his face changed expressions and gave anything away. “Now why would I fly to Vegas when I could have waited a few days to meet him in Tucson?”

“I’m not sure yet, but he is the reason. Fran told you about what Evan did in my apartment, and I guess you had to see for yourself. A person who says he can alter his physical environment to his specifications.”

“You have to admit, her story was more than a little strange.”

“Very strange and the afterhours show in our suite turned from strange to absolutely true. Now why the interest?”

“May I?” Gil asked, reaching for a danish, quickly thinking about what he should tell her or just allude.

“Oh, I’m sorry, please help yourself to anything on the table.” Valarie waited a minute or two while Gil made a big deal trying to decide on a danish. “Please take two or three and try the muffins too. We were talking about Evan.”

“It’s not really Evan, but a fascination that I have for the possibilities of the mind, especially psychic abilities.”

“Since Fran’s story no doubt,” and she smiled to take the sting out of her words. “So you think Evan possesses these psychic abilities you’re so fascinated by?”

“Yes, clearly. What happened last night proves that much. Fran said at your apartment Evan explained how he had taught himself to control his own mind and the environment around him. It isn’t a wild talent that was there when he was born. If he did teach himself the psychic abilities, like what he displayed last night, then I’d like to learn more about it, and how it was done.” He watched her sipping her coffee, wondering if he had said too much.

Valarie’s mind raced with the possibilities, the foremost thought being how honest Gil is. She knew that Evan had no choice but to give a live practical demonstration of some of his abilities. Gil had just told her that he wanted to know how he had taught himself. Why, what was his ultimate goal? The conclusion her mind ran into made her gasp while she still had a mouth full of coffee. She sputtered and started to cough unstoppable for almost two minutes.

“Are you alright?” Gil asked solicitously. “Can I get you anything?”

“The ultimate weapon,” Valarie said as soon as she could speak clearly. The momentary look of shock and wonder on Gil’s face said it all to her. “You want to take Evan and study him like a lab rat. Put him through all the crazy tests your idiots can think of doing. Then you’re somehow going to entice him to teach a thousand other soldiers how to do what he can.”

“That’s absurd.”

“To me, yes, and it’s also obscene, but I don’t think you feel it’s absurd at all. It’s also ambitious. I’d imagine that the Major that could bring in such an asset to the government, wouldn’t remain a Major very long, General.”

“I have no idea,” Gil said stiffly, “but let’s just suppose, and mind you this is strictly supposition. The military could use some form of psychic abilities just as a defensive weapon.”

“There is no such thing as JUST a defensive weapon. It can always be made offensive,” Valarie interrupted.

“Please just play it out to the logical end. If you have a squad of psychic adepts, and they could destroy any missile at its apogee thus rendering all missiles useless, Then what is the reason to have them? It could mean a permanent peace.”

“Now who is being absurd? If we’re going to do this then let’s be realistic to carry it through to their logical military end. You have your little squad of psychics watching radar screens for that final attack of all attacks. Some General gets tired of waiting for the final act to begin, and he orders one of these men to concentrate their focus on a single atom high above, say Moscow. The young man follows orders and concentrates, and the General tells him to tear the atom apart, setting off a chain reaction. One minute there is Moscow and the surrounding countryside, the next there isn’t. Or here is one better, we don’t like what a particular ruler or president is doing, so you have this nice young man think about the blood vessels deep in the brain of this ruler, and you tell the young man he is to create a tear, just a small opening. Cerebral Hemorrhage from hundreds or thousands of miles away. Too deep to get him or her through ER to the OR before they bleed to death. The perfect assassinastion or coup d’etat. Isn’t that really what the armed forces is looking to create?”

“Of course not. It’s probably impossible for the human mind to split an atom.”

“But are you sure?”

“Yes,” Gil said with reassurance. “Besides, something like this wouldn’t be taught to just anyone at random. There would have to be guidelines and standards.”

“Before last night would you have thought it possible for a man to control three other men with just a thought?”

Gil hesitated before a weak “No” came out.

“Then you have to admit that you really don’t have any real idea what the human mind is capable of accomplishing. You have no idea where your little idea for national safety could lead, but I’ll tell you a secret. I do. My advice to you is to go back to Tucson, and forget what you saw last night, or just put it down to mass hysteria or hypnosis. Or did it happen at all? We had been drinking. After all Evan is a consummate magician so you don’t know what you really saw.”

“I saw a man defy gravity and move up to the ceiling, and that was where he stayed. I don’t think I can forget it or let it go,” and Gil was surprised by the amount of open honesty he had placed in that one statement.

“Gil, Fran is my very best friend, and naturally I only want the best things to happen to her. She feels that you are the best thing for her right now, so I would hope that one day the two of you might get married, have a family and be very happy. I also know that if you pursue Evan in this matter, that might never happen.”

“Are you threatening me?” his voice a mixture of shock and immediate hostility.

“Not at all. I just know that what Evan has is not for everybody. Certainly not the military. This psychic ability that you are so hot to find out about has a tremendous potential for good, or bad, depending on who wields it. That’s something Evan will guard like a mother protecting her children.” Valarie picked up a metal plate cover used to keep food hot or just to make plates stackable. “Try to bend this” she said as she handed the cover to Gil.

“I can’t,” and he passed the cover back to Valarie.

Placing the cover from the room service cart, on the table between them. She closed her eyes and thought about what Evan would do. Picturing what she wanted in as much detail as possible was key. She envisioned the metal cover sitting on the table, and she reached out with her mind. It was cold, hard and shiny, with about three inches of height. Thinking of tremendous force being applied to the cover, she imagined it flat on the table, a disc of metal. Her eyes opened to see the disc of metal she had envisioned. She had exerted tremendous force on the cover without crushing the table. Her first time trying it, and she had succeeded. She was beginning to develop serious control.

“Imagine that the metal cover is a human skull.”

Gil looked at the cover and then Valarie, sitting there with her sweet innocent smile. Her analogy was clear. Evan could kill him with a thought. Hell! She could kill him with a thought. He would be defenseless to stop either of them.

“Leave it alone, even if you can’t forget,” Valarie said softly.

Confidence, that is what's so different about her today. She had all the confidence in the world. The knowledge that she could do anything she wanted, and nobody could stop her. She was in control of her life, her own fate. It was in her stature. It literally radiated for her. That was what he noticed when he had entered the suite. She was a beautiful woman. But her own belief in herself made her beauty shine so people had to notice. There was a certain amount of relief for Gil understanding the differences between yesterday and today, but it was also disquieting.

“Evan has been studying for over a decade. I’ve only been learning the bare basics for a very short time. Can you imagine the difference between Evan and myself? Between yourself and Evan?” Gil picked up the cold cup of coffee and took a sip as images of the monkey and man on the evolutionary chart came to mind for the difference between Evan and the woman sitting in front of him. What would it be between himself and Evan? A dog and a man? A dog who doesn’t have the sense to come in out of the rain, and Evan could create the rain, or anything else he could imagine. Just how good was Evan’s imagination? How had he accomplished this transformation?

Valarie stared at Gil knowing that she had made her point very clear as to his mortality, but had she made her point about letting the subject drop? If she could not persuade him from pursuing Evan, could she at least buy them the time they needed by telling him about the impending doom. Would he believe her? Not without solid concrete proof that he’d want to touch and see.

What kind of proof exists that there is good and evil in this world and evil was about to win?

Forever?

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She knew she didn’t have the time to go into the ideology and theology knowledge to make her points before Evan woke. How would Evan react when he finds out what she has done? Was she even doing the right thing? They had sworn to not reveal their abilities to anyone without the other person agreeing. But had she told Gil any more than he already knew?

Yes, about her own abilities.

Why was she just now thinking about all of this? Why not when she first woke? What made her so sure of herself then and not now?

“Well, it’s been an interesting breakfast,” Gil said with a roguish smile. “I think I should get back to my room in case Fran has woken. Will we see you later?”

“Certainly,” Valarie said, wondering herself what the day would bring. “Dinner for sure.” If she had it her way, they would all be out of there before the sun had set.

TWENTY-ONE

The large tan, white, and silver Winnebago pulled into the truck parking area of the rest stop off of Interstate 15, behind two American Freight tractor trailers rigs already parked. Mud spattered the sides of the Winnebago. The front and rear covering the bulk of the license plate number almost completely, as well as the small trailer it pulled housing a red, a black, and a silver Ducati Panigale V4 SP2s. While the trailer was spattered with mud, none of the off road motorcycles had a speck of mud on them. There had been no rain in the area for over two weeks, so a casual observer may have wondered where a mobile home of this size may have found so much mud, and not gotten stuck.

Upon closer inspection, somebody would see that the Winnebago, trailer and motorcycles were all new. But the truck drivers relaxing around the vending machines only gave the big motor home a cursory look as it pulled to a stop. Quickly returning to their animated conversation pertaining to the new waitress at the 86 Truck Stop off of exit 76.

A navy blue Cadillac had been parked for about thirty minutes by the restrooms. After the Winnebago came to a stop, the front doors of the Cadillac opened and a man and woman proceeded towards the motor home. A quick knock and the door opened. Judy embraced Valarie and then Evan, while David simply shook hands.

“Any problems,” Evan asked.

“Nothing unexpected. Gil kept coming around or calling trying to get ahold of you Evan. All the money has been transfer to their proper accounts. I’m sure the casino held some sort of prayer meeting with all that money leaving town. The hotel will list us as guests until check-out time tomorrow. They also said we were all given VIP status and our next visit is totally on them. All the luggage has been pre checked. All we have to do is arrive on time for the fight. I’ve called three realtors and told them what I am looking for, what the house has to have and I’m ready for an immediate cash sale and closing. Mom has a large moving truck ready, and about a half dozen workers to get yours and Val’s apartments packed up.”

“You have been busy,” Evan said with a warm smile.

“We do aim to please,” David joked.

“I’ll tell you who has lost all humor, is Fran. Every chance she has, she finds me and asks where are you? When are you coming back? Is there a way to call you? Judy told them that you went shopping for some very special things and we have no idea when you’ll be back. I don’t think either of them bought it.”

“When we don’t show up tonight or tomorrow, I would plan on a few more calls. I bought us a couple of satellite phones with a subscription. They’re both live now. Numbers are inside the case. We may be out of range for even these for a day or two.”

“I don’t know if Gil can be more than a pain in the ass, but sooner or later, you’re going to have to address that particular situation,” David said.

“You’re absolutely right, but I’m not going to have any time until after the Gate and whatever that’s going to ensue.”

“Do you know where you're going yet?” Judy asked.

“The northern part of Lake Mead National Recreation Park,” Valarie said in a conspiratorial tone. “It looks fairly remote on the map. There’s a little town called Overton not too far away if we decide we need more supplies.”

“You didn’t hear her say any of that.” Evan looked at the Cadillac through the windshield. “Did he prove himself?”

“You know it, or he wouldn’t be here yet. I still don’t understand what it all means, but he described your message just as you said he would. There’s something weird about him though. I think he talks to his cat, and that he thinks the cat answers him.”

“He probably does.” Seeing the perplexed looks on all of their faces he took to explain. “Does everyone remember the old horror movies where the witches have the black cat? That’s the witches familiar. It’s a spirit from another plane that attaches itself to one person at a time, usually for life. Did he say anything when you told him that you’d have to take him to me?”

“Not really. He thought it a prudent measure to screen him first, before meeting.”

“He’s a nice man,” Judy said more to herself than the group, “You feel comfortable around him, like he’s your grandfather or someone you’ve known forever. He asked questions about you on the way up here.”

“They seemed like harmless questions,” David said, “so we told him the truth. How old are you? Your birth date? Any living relatives? How long have you been interested in magic? Any girlfriend? Boyfriend? Other? You know normal everyday conversation material.”

“How did you answer?”

“Neither of us felt he was asking for anything strange, so we told him the truth. Did we do something wrong?”

“Not a thing,” Evan said quickly. “You both have done a great job. Well, you better get back if you’re going to make your flight.”

“Don’t you want me to wait to see if I need to take Mr. Goodman back with us?”

“No thanks. If he’s the one we’ve been waiting to get here, then he’ll be going with us. If he’s not, one of us is not going forward, and either way, I want the two of you far away. We’re not playing games anymore.”

“Understood,” David said sternly. “I’ll send him and his cat over. I guess this is it. We’ll see you in about a week.”

David took Evan’s offered hand and pulled him into a tight hug. In a low voice he said, "Take care and if you need anything, anything at all, call.”

* * * * * * *

The truck driver absently observed the man and woman walk over to the mud encrusted Winnebago, exiting just a few minutes later. He watched as the old man got out of the backseat of the navy blue Caddy. The woman hugged the old man while the man opened the trunk to retrieve a large suitcase. He handed it to the old man and directed him towards the Winnebago before getting back into the car. The Caddy was out of the parking area before the old man reached the mobile home’s door.

He was trying to pay more attention to the older truck driver’s story of a little brunette hitchhiker he had picked up a few weeks ago, in all its lurid details. There was a great sense of longing and envy in the first truck driver as that type of story never, ever happens to him, other than watching the Winnebago. From the corner of his eye he watched as the old man stepped up into the RV. A moment later the entire Winnebago was encompassed in a soft blue glow. He quickly turned his head to look directly at the blue light, but it was already gone, faded into the sunlight. He thought it had to be a reflection of something; RV’s did not glow blue.

At the mention of the little hitchhiker's friend, cause him to wonder about the veracity of the older truck driver and his unbelievable story of what happened when he parked.

* * * * * * *

The door to the Winnebago opened and the old man passed his suitcase into the RV. The cat jumped from his arms into Valarie’s lap as the man hoisted himself up and into the RV. There was a minute or two as the four occupants did a very direct inspection of each other. Anxious to be on the road himself, Evan twisted his hand palm side out in front of his chest.

“I will know him by the light,” Evan said as if quoting scripture. Two fingers moved on his positioned hand as he said three other arcane words in a low voice. A blue ball of sizzling energy emerged from his hand and grew to encompass the old man. It hovered for a second then faded away.

“And I yours”, while making a similar hand motion and repeating the same arcane words. A moment later a blue light encircled Evan before dissipating into the sunlight. Valarie breathed an audible sigh of relief.

“We better get this show on the road. I’m Evan Cooper, but you already knew that, and this is Valarie Williams, my Other.”

“And I’m Edgar Goodman, in Ms. Williams' lap is Cleopatra."

The lustrous black cat gave a small meow while dipping her head in acknowledgment.

Evan pulled the RV onto 15 as Cleopatra laid in Valarie’s lap purring contentedly. Traffic was light in the late afternoon, as the sun began its final descent behind them with its brilliant show of oranges, yellows, red and even a little pink and purple, making the working of the Ancient One more amazing everyday.

“She certainly seems to like you which, in itself, is a huge compliment. She doesn’t like most people.”

“Well I think she’s a beautiful little lady,” Valarie said as Cleopatra pushed her head harder into Valarie’s hand as she scratched behind the right ear at the base.

“Edgar, your coming was foretold at the Gate when I was there, but they failed to mention what help you would provide. So what can we do for each other?”

“It’s two fold, what I can do for you and you can do for me. I need your help, but I assure you that my help does not depend on you returning aid to me.”

“What do you think I need help to do?” Evan asked sounding more arrogant than he wanted.

“In the coming battle you have to fight, to keep the Dark Gate closed.”

“How much do you know?”

“Not nearly enough. I have several questions I’d like to see if you can answer. And I’m certain you have a few questions for me.”

“More than several,” Valarie said, softly from her seat behind Evan.

“How can you help?” Evan asked, his voice a blend of curiosity, desire, and skepticism.

“I know the person working to open the Gate from this world,” Edgar said, trying hard to keep the emotion from his voice. He saw the look of shock cross Valarie’s face. The emotion which passed across Evan’s face was too fast for Edgar to read. “Most importantly though, I can teach you control. You have incredible power Evan, but you don’t have the proper training to harvest the best of that power. I can teach you that control, which just might provide you with an edge, and you ARE going to need every edge you can use to win and survive.”

“What do we have to do in return?” Evan asked suspiciously.

“As I said in the beginning, nothing. I will tell you what I need in return, but you are under no obligation to agree to it or do it, and I will still help. Just listen to what I’m asking with an open mind.”

“I’m listening now,” Evan said as he guided the large RV down the highway.

“First, I’d like to know where you got your copy of “THE GATES ON THE LADDER OF LIGHT”. There are only seven known copies and I can attest to the location of all seven books. Yet in your living room, at the bottom of a pile of books, there was an eighth copy. A book that should never have existed.”

“I obtained my copy from Hermes Trismegistus,” Evan said without hesitation.

“That’s impossible,” Edgar said accusingly.

“Why is that impossible? If Evan said he asked this Mister Hermes for the book, then I’m sure Evan got it legally,” Valarie declared.

“It’s impossible because the man we are talking about, Hermes Trismegistus, has been dead for over four thousand years.”

“True, in this world. After reading references to him in three other texts, I wanted to meet this man and talk to him. So using a combination of Enochian, Cabalistic, and Necromancy magic I got my book.”

“Please explain”, Edgar asked anxiously.

“Using Enochian and Cabalistic magics I traveled through the lower Aethyrs, or astral planes Valarie. I began my journey to the planets, then on to finding a single soul. The soul, I’ve come to find out, never dies, and can be reincarnated dozens of times, unless one chooses to stop and step aside. You can still find their energies on one of the astral planes.

“Why?” Edgar asked, fascinated by the explanation so far. To his knowledge the combination of those three types of magic had never been mixed. There was wide debate as to whether Enochian magic was even practical.

“I would say for knowledge, but the closer truth would have been just plain ol' fashion curiosity. The more I read about something, the more I wanted to know. So much has been made-up over the last two centuries, that every little thing had to be tried carefully and the truth learned the slow and tedious way of trial and error. I kept a meticulous diary at the time.”

“I don’t understand,” Valarie said from behind him.

“Most of the books that I have purchased, published before eighteen twenty or so, are just cunning works of fiction. Or they may have a small truth in them that the rest of the book was based on. I still have to read it to learn the truth about the book. Every once in a while, the author actually knew something and my knowledge crept along, kernel by kernel. Leading me ever closer to finding the answer to why.”

“Why what? I still don’t understand.”

“Not so much why we exist, but more why the order to our world existed and why had it been fashioned in the manner it had been. There are incongruencies that I didn’t understand. I understood that if you have health, then sickness has to be lurking around the corner. We need the dichotomy to appreciate the value of one. Poverty and wealth, good and evil, but why do there appear to be such an imbalance?

"I wanted to understand myself and how I fit into the chorus of life. So I started to project myself to the planets. I spoke with Agiel, Johphiel, Graphiel, Nachiel, Hagiel, Tiriel, and Malcha. What they told me enlightened me towards a greater understanding of the universe, but not my world. As Nachiel stated, it could never happen talking to them because they were not from my world. They each had their own, and each was different.”

“The intelligence of the planets,” Edgar said more to himself, “I’ve read about them naturally, but I don’t think I or my colleagues believed they actually existed, let alone attempt to speak with them.”

“Ultimately, what I sought was not theirs to give, so I jumped from the middle astral planes, to Lith in the spiritual planes. There I sought Marukka, who told me of others who had passed before me seeking similar information. Basically, he did not have the powers to allow me to speak to these people.”

“Like a seance? Is that what you mean when you refer to speaking to these other people, who were once alive on our planet,” Valarie started trying hard to understand.

“No not really, but I am delighted that you are beginning to understand the multiple intelligences of the universe, and not just on our little speck of a world. I wanted a face to face with these people. I wanted to understand what they believed and see the proof of that understanding.”

“But they are all dead, how could you sit down with them and talk?”

“Physically their bodies were dead and the ages passed, grinding them to dust, but there is more to all of us than just our physical beings. For some of us, that is just one level of existence.”

“Go on,” Edgar urged when Evan paused for a minute.

“After Marukka, I sought out Namru. He did have the power to direct me to the essence of these people. That’s where I first heard of the name Trismegistus associated with the Gates on the Ladder of Lights. What surprised me was that none of the intelligences of the Planets knew about the Gates. I have since discovered that knowledge is deliberately limited unless sought. No entity is given the complete knowledge of the Universe. I guess if everybody knew everything, it would all get pretty boring, fast. More importantly, each of us would then be the Ancient One.”

“So that accounts for Enochian and Cabalistic magic, but not the necromancy magic,” Edgar said excitedly.

“Doesn’t that have to do with raising the dead?” Valerie asked as horror tinted her voice.

“It does,” Edgar answered, “and most would say that it’s the foulest of the arts, IF you are able to do it successfully.”

“It is a foul art if you do not have the cooperation of the one being called forth. Trismegistus freely told me of his discovery of the Gates and how to travel to all of them. It was too much information for me to take back by sheer memory. I suggested a means by which I could commit what he was telling me to a physical nature, and he agreed. I obtained the parchment, inks and quills. The last thing needed was a body for him to inhabit while he rewrote his great book.”

“Don’t tell me you went around digging up newly buried bodies,” Valarie only kind of jested.

“Not quite, I have a friend who works the graveyard shift at the county morgue. He procured two John Does that he was going to be responsible to bury. It took twelve nights for him to complete the book, which I then bound.”

“Incredible and imaginative.”

“That was one of the first precepts that I learned, imagination. As he constructed the book for me anew, I became aware of the perils I would face if I choose to use the knowledge it contained and actually journey to the Gates.”

“But you did,” Edgar prompted.

“After a couple of months of debate and reading the book through four times. It was sort of like saving up for and getting your very first new car, and then still taking the bus everywhere because you never wanted anything to possibly happen and mar its perfection.”

“Remarkable. But you did finally decide to use the book and visited the Gates. Did he warn you about the changes the passage through the Gates would bring?”

“No,” and for the first time there were notes of sadness in Evan's voice.

“What changes,” Valarie asked.

“As you pass through each Gate,” Edgar said after waiting a minute to see if Evan was going to answer. “There is a change that occurs to the body, both intellectually and physically. Physically your nervous system changes to allow signals to pass a hundred times faster than normal. The muscles begin to grow and stretch to allow for quicker, faster reaction time, and the ability to deal with most anything by becoming incredibly strong. Normally this would cause the metabolism to accelerate to unheard of speed, causing the body to burn itself out in just a few years, but in reality, the metabolism slows to almost nothing, causing us to have extremely long life spans. I am four hundred fifty-seven years old, as of March. My teacher is still alive, and he is over thirteen hundred years old.”

He heard the gasp from Valarie at his revelation. “Does this mean that I am going to live forever? I was at the Seventh Gate,” and dread filled her voice as images of all of her family and friends dyeing. She would watch all of her friends, old or new die, always living on.

“No!” Evan said emphatically. “You merely visited the Gate as my guest. I took you. You never entered or passed a Gate. What Edgar is talking about only applies to me at the moment.”

Valarie felt an incredible sadness and loneliness for Evan.

“That’s all true,” Edgar agreed. “It is the physical act of crossing the Gates threshold twice that endows the person or creature with its boon, both physiological and intellectual. Once the brain settles into its matured patterns, the brain can perform incredible feats. Eidetic memory for vast swathes of information at one time is an easy accomplishment. The Guardian is able to train their mind to do telekinetic movements of objects, psychic communications, between one person or a whole group on an individual basis. Teleportation, across the room to across the world and more. It’s at this time that you momentarily might develop a god complex. You become keenly aware of the human condition. The fragility of life proves that it is impossible to change people in large numbers, so you do what you can on a more personalized level. The Talmud said ‘That to save a life is equivalent to saving a world,’ because of how many people we come into contact with each day. Each Gate adds its own changes, and that is why a Master and their disciple may stop along the Gates on the Ladder of Light. Everyone was never meant to learn everything. I think that is why the information is scattered throughout the Universe. It takes a rare individual to accomplish this amazing transformation.

The lights to the RV automatically came on as the last rays of sunlight struggled to push back the darkness. They sat in silence as the miles sped by. They turned from 15 to State Road 169. The headlights washed a sign momentarily, Logandale 5 mi., below it was Overton 23 mi. At this rate it would be thirty to forty-five minutes until they stopped to make camp.

“I answered your question in greater detail than planned. Now it’s time to tell me what else you want,” Evan asked.

“Fair enough. I belong to a group called the Guardians. We meet once a year in convocation unless an emergency arises, and then it’s as needed. There are seven of us, one for each Gate on the Ladder of Light. Five of us are currently training disciples, to one day take their place at the table. One a set of twins, which has been interesting. Each member of the Guardians is responsible for the security of the Gate from this world. We are governed by the laws of the Ancient One, and bound by the Code of the Gates, just as you are now. You have passed the greatest of the Gates, and you passed through the previous Gates. You did so without the authority and consent of the Convocation.”

“I need anyone's approval or consent other than my own to be able to grow to my full potential,” Evan said quickly and defensively.

“That’s true and I’m not here seeking an apology nor condemning you. What you have done though, has never been done before. In the past, one member of the Guardians would take their apprentice to the Gate, later allowing them to travel through the Gate on their own to receive all of the boons of the Gate. We controlled who journeyed, and who could not. We choose our own successor.

“For better or worse, you have single handedly changed all of that, through the creation of an eighth book. How are we to know if there is a ninth, or even a tenth book of the Gates out there now, or always has been. Our concept of being in charge is shattered forever. I am humbled by your accomplishments. I request that you take your rightful place with the Guardians and join the Convocation.”

“And exactly what would that be as? A neophyte,” Evan asked and was surprised by the bitterness in his own voice.

“No, of course not. Your rightful place in the Convocation is mine, and I give it to you freely and completely. You have passed through the Seventh Gate, as have others including myself. Your passage was different though. You received more with your passage than any of us have ever received. We believe that you have been granted the true Power.”

“What would happen to you,” Valarie asked.

“I have the choice of stepping down and continuing to live on in this world. Or I may elect to pass through my Gate or any other Gate and reside there for eternity. I am ready to pass through to the next challenge.”

“How many have stepped down and still reside in this world?” Valarie asked.

“There are sixteen others that are still here. I have no desire to remain in this world. There is a person whom I wish to find again and spend eternity with.”

“Your wife?”

“Yes,” was the simple answer, and Edgar refused to elaborate.

“I do have this Power, or at least that’s what they said at the Gate before our departure. But they did not explain what the Power represented nor how to use it. All that was said was that the Ancient One had selected me himself for four reasons. The first reason was because of the very nature of my being, which I take to refer to my psychological composition. The second was my ability to learn and envision new ideas. The third reason is because I’ve been to the Dark Gate.”

“You’ve been there?” Edgar gasped.

“I’ve been to the Gate, but I never went through the Gate. I wanted to know the nature of the Gate, and I found out. Sometimes I’m sorry I did. Their nature is what you would expect, horrid, abominable, abhorrent, repulsive, detestable, loathsome and obnoxious. I could find no redeeming factor to allow the Gate to exist in the Universe.

Anyway, they said the fourth reason is that someone from our race had to be chosen. With my luck, it turned out to be me. They said that I possessed the Power, but I would learn what the Power was as I found the keys within myself.”

“Yes, they really stressed that you held the keys and would know when to use what Power,” Valarie agreed.

“The Power,” Edgar said softly, then to Evan, “the Book says that one of the powers is the true Power of creation. You can create life and take life.”

“I could do both before I went to the Seventh Gate,” Evan said simply.

“No you couldn’t. You could kill with your abilities, after all, our bodies are fragile structures with a dozen or more ways to end life suddenly and be almost undetectable. As for the creation of life, you have never been able to truly give life, only the illusion. You had to maintain mental contact or the subject would cease to exist again. It was all a matter of diverting energy. Now they could live independently. The Ancient One has given you a part of himself.

“That’s all the more reason to join the Convocation, to learn how to use this Power and master it. You have not been chosen by us, but by the Ancient One Himself. Your Power, your knowledge, your responsibilities demand that you become one of us. Through your guidance you could usher in a new era for all mankind. It may even be worth staying around for a while.”

Cleopatra meows loudly from Valarie’s lap.

“She thinks it’s definitely worth sticking around,” Valarie said.

“You could understand her?” Edgar asked, amazed.