Paul Hunting

[Wired*Nun]

S'good thing that I met up with Dave. If those cops at the checkpoint looked into the trunk it might have gotten sticky.

Paul looks over to Dave, "After our day off 0400's going to come awfully early. Good night."

He makes his way inside and to his awaiting room. As he's prepping for bed,

Lilith? I've been thinking about this for awhile now. Letting you out today and then locking you back seems cruel. I want you to know that I trust you completely now, and that I do not object if you want to stay awake while I sleep.

Maybe staggering a bit would be good. I'd have four hours or so of privacy a day, and you'd have the same. I'm pretty sure that at this point my body will take it--slumber being more of an emotional, mental, and spiritual exerise at this point.

Maybe...maybe this way this situation wouldn't weigh on us both as much.

[Wired*Nun]

Actually the fates are conspiring to solve the problem, I believe. Please telephone Joann first thing in the morning, would you? She should be awake at that time. I expect she will have some news tomorrow.




Paul wakes up at around 0425, expecting the usual alarm. He slips into his running gear and takes a quick pee.

Telephone.

Oh, yeah. That's right.

He phones Spann, and she picks right up on her personal cell number.

"Paul Hunting? Good morning, and how are you?"

May I?

"It's Lilith, Joanne," Paul hears himself vocalize. His own voice sounds strange to himself, especially as he's not controlling it. "I believe you have a candidate?"

"Yes, actually I have. A tragic case of drug overdose. She was a runaway, a Jane Doe. I have been evaluating her for any signs of a re-emergent soul or consciousness, but I believe Thanosiel has claimed her, despite the physicians' heroic efforts to reanimate her body. It is possible her family will show up, but I am making arrangements to have her declared DNR. If there is any trouble, I may have to request Anton assist in placating them. I am sure you will be able to persuade him to help." He can hear the amusement in Spann's voice.

"When should we arrange for the transfer, then?" He can hear - feel - the eagerness leaking through.

Spann pauses. "Hmmmmm...I believe the sooner the better. The longer she stays in this state, the more questions there will be. I will have her transferred under my authority. We can do the procedure at Stillewald. Shall we say noon today? If Anton is avaliable."

"I believe that can be arranged," he/she says dryly.

"Until that time, then." The connection closes.

I am sorry if this is too sudden, Paul. The lines of fate converged suddenly, and this is a godsend for me. The emotions leaking through to him are powerful, distilled, rich in longing for freedom and lust for life. I hope you are still willing to take the risk. I will do all I can to make it successful for both of us.

[TreyKincaide]

Oh, of...of course. Anything I can do. It might be our only shot, so it has to count for the young woman's sake if not our own.

Paul tries not to get swallowed by Lilith's enthusiasm yet attempts to smother resurfacing mixed emotion.

She's become part of who am I. Will I be able to... Damn it. Man up. Trust your Gift to heal what's taken, and what happens, happens. Remember why you helped her out in the first place. Don't retreat into selfishness now. Besides, all this was fated to happen. Losing your new found faith in yourself will only leave you where you were before.

Let's find Anton.

Paul leaves his room looking for the Eldest.

[Wired*Nun]

Yes. Let's. He's probably up by now, looking in on the arrangements for the new training. Ash is somewhere nearby - you may need to persuade him.

Ash is, indeed, waiting just outside Paul's door.

"Good morning. It is fortunate we won't be having morning formation, else you'd be late." The bland smile feels a bit condescending to Paul, though this may just be the result of his feeling of being...on edge. Eager. Bleedover from Lilith, perhaps.

[TreyKincaide]

Maybe I'm just not destined to like this guy. Now that my course is set, I'm not about to let anything get in my way--me included.

"Yeah, I was on the phone with Dr. Spann. She...she found someone. Lilith and I don't have long and we'll need Anton's help. I have to finish what I started...even if that means washing out."

[Wired*Nun]

Ash stares at Paul a moment, processing.

"Very well. This is obviously a decision he must make. I will take you to him."

He pads out the door and across the still-moonlit parking lot. As he follows, Paul wonders how he manages to do without shoes on every surface.

Inside the lodge, Ash goes to an unfamiliar section, apparently consisting of residential suites. He doesn't bother to knock, but opens the door immediately.

Inside is an elegantly-appointed room in the motif of the rest of the lodge - knotty pine, a few stuffed animals, high-beamed ceilings, floor-to-ceiling windows for the view. Mesmer stands up from behind a heavy desk, where he was looking at a computer screen. He's dressed in a formal silk robe, vaguely Chinese in design. It is black, and in a nearby full-length mirror, Paul can see the back is embroidered with a crimson-red dragon in the oriental style.

"Mister Hunting and a lady of your acquaintance requested an appointment," Ash says wryly, and withdraws from the room, closing the door behind him.

Mesmer steps out from behind the desk and places his hands behind him in an attitude of waiting.

[TreyKincaide]

Not for the first time Paul is thankful for the mental dampening Mesmer put in place. Yet standing before the Elder face to face awash with Lilith's anticipation and excitement causes him to hesitate.

"Um..." he takes a deep breath so he doesn't blurt out everything at once like a teenage school girl. Paul forces himself to maintain eye contact despite feeling suddenly small, "Anton..." he shakes his head, "Mesmer, when we last met with Joan we asked her to help us deal with the untenable situation that we find ourselves in.

"She promised Lilith to help find a suitable host so that we try to separate lest we be stuck like this forever if it's not already to late. I...we..." fucking pronouns "just spoke to Joan on the phone and there's a young woman, a Jane Doe runaway, who overdosed that's 'been taken by Thanosiel' which I take to be clinically dead.

"Despite my reservations about the ethically of what has been proposed, I promised Lilith I'd try to do everything I could to help her. I don't know if that means that because it'll interrupt my training, I'll wash out. If that's the case, so be it. I have to finish what I started," Paul finishes firmly trying to convince himself to overcome all of his unstated doubts.

"Joan and Lilith would like you there. Will you help us?"

[Wired*Nun]

"I must." The man walks slowly over to stand at arms length from Paul. "My Gifts will help manage the process. More importantly, I will help you survive it."

He reaches out to grasp Paul's shoulder. "It's very likely you will die. You will be presented with the choice again - to meet your judgment in the afterlife, or return to this present one. But unlike mere physical death, the shock to your soul will be such that you may choose the easier path, to go onward. You will probably be miserable and depressed, left empty and alone..." He trails off, looking into the middle distance for a moment.

"You need to decide now. Today. That you will commit to this life. You have already profoundly affected the fate of many, by bringing Lilith back to consciousness. I believe there is more for you to accomplish, here."

He squeezes Paul's shoulder. "Will you make that vow, now?"

[TreyKincaide]

Paul flinches involuntarily under Mesmer's grasp.

That's right. I can suppress my body's ability to heal so I can will myself to die. Suppose that means that I'm not cursed to wander until the end of time and can move on when I'm ready.

Betraying notes of false bravado, "Simply being a living incubator would be a shitty destiny, I agree." He shrugs, "As long as I'm with Gale I'm not alone. This might be bad, but my first choice without her was pure hell.

"So, yeah. I'll come back. How many people can say they're thrice lived? Let's just hope that it doesn't piss off Thanosiel."

Can I do it? Can I willingly go to my death so someone else has a remote chance to live?

[Wired*Nun]

"If you give up now, then that will be your legacy. For even that, I will always be grateful...and my gratitude is no small thing. But when you are faced with that choice, you must hold on to yourself and your commitments. Your love for your wife can be a powerful thing, if you remember to remember it. It is not the reality, but your perception at that moment that concerns me. Terrible wounds can make for terrible choices."

He steps away and turns around, placing his fists together behind his back again, below the embroidered dragon. The image seems to ripple slightly, and Paul has the distinct impression the dragon is looking at him. This one, however, has nothing in common with Puff.

"And you need have no fear of Death. Not being mortal, you are beyond his authority. You may Return many times, each time making the same choice. Eventually, most of us decide to leave hold of corporeal life and move on to what comes next."

[TreyKincaide]

Paul folds his arms and stares at the bannered dragon losing himself in its austere eyes as he puzzles out Mesmer's words.

Everyone has the ability to Return, but it is limited by their will and their Healing gifts. Most Younglings lack the ability to regenerate in time to their will so they generally cross over. Elders have both and Return except in rare cases such as Lilith.

Finalling causes trauma upon the victim sometimes provoking a terrible will allowing those to Return that would not otherwise do so. These creatures twisted by hatred and revenge, further infuriated by their state, become the spirits of despair shown before.

He snaps to relaxing into his stance and nodding firmly, "I believe I understand. The trauma upon me will result in a direct tearing of my soul. Because it will not be a reflection of pain endured of flesh but one of spirit, I might react instinctively or not even understand when the choice is presented. Do you propose to anchor me somehow then?"

[Wired*Nun]

He turns around, fixing Paul with a passionate, burning stare. He feels pinned, flayed, sand-blasted by the dry heat of the man's will. He feels like a man naked in the desert, helpless against the rays of the sun above.

"The Creator Being that caused this universe established freedom of choice as a principle even higher than service to the Good. Thus It allows poor choices, even evil ones, and all the horrible things that result - for to interfere with those choices unduly is to interfere with the highest principle, to make automatons of us all. Without choice, there is no Good nor Evil, no love nor apathy, there is only blind, stupid causality." He spits out the words as if they offend him personally.

"When the choice is presented to you, you will understand very, very well. You will be confronted with a painful rehabilitation with no certainty of success - or the welcoming and acceptance into the brightness of Eternity, a new and higher order of existence. Presented with that choice, your instinct will be to run from pain to relief. You have to be fundamentally convinced and committed to coming back before the pain overwhelms you. Like a soldier on an impossible mission, you have to be willing to endure much and risk everything for a result that may be of no personal benefit - only service to a higher cause."

His expressson softens, bringing with it a wave of relief, like rain upon parched skin.

"You see, I can manipulate your emotions - in fact, my Gifts are so much a part of me that I have difficulty not doing so - but I can't manipulate you without I become the very thing I despise. Thus I am trying to convince you, implore you, to decide now, that your decision will be that much easier to make later. I will do all I can to blunt the pain and remind you of your own intention - but I can no more anchor you here than I could stop a locomotive with my bare hands."

[TreyKincaide]

Paul reactively struggles against the feeling much as he did Justin Orabono's emotional meddling only easing as Mesmer blistering heat subsides. Any bravado burns away leaving his underlying fear exposed, "I...I can give no affirmation that will convince you that I will come back. That's not the point, though.

"Charity, they say is a virtue. It has left me dead twice over.

"I'd be a fool not to be scared. Even though I've been through this before, now I walk forward knowing without doubt that I will die.

"Like Lilith, whose enthusiasm for freedom cuts like a knife, I find myself very much wanting to live. Although I have no clue what to expect, I remember how I suffered during our brief separation. It frightens me how wretched I might just become.

"I'm doing the best I can with what I've been Given. Perhaps I wasn't before, but that doesn't matter. I have enough left undone that I will Return. I do as must, because I must. That is so much a part of me that I have difficulty not doing so.

"The first time I came back was curiosity. Now, I'll just have to be too stubborn to stay dead."

[Wired*Nun]

A smile breaks through Mesmer's intense visage, filling him with hope and the warmth of approval, like a father's love.

"Good man. Good man. I know you can do it. I just didn't know that you knew."

"You can't do this on hope. You have to do it on faith. Faith is the essence and evidence of unknown things. It's proof of the unprovable. Faith is what separates us from animals - the ability to see and think and believe beyond our own experience - because something must be. For me, I always had faith that Lilith would come back to me. For you, it's faith that what you do is vital to the struggle against the evil, and that those on the side of good need you."

[TreyKincaide]

Paul can't help himself from smiling in response to the Elder's praise, "I've never had it put that way, but you're right. Before the Change I struggled against ignorance, apathy, and sloth. Maybe I'm not so different now except that I've been Given what I need to make a change for the better. I once heard that people don't really change, but rather choose to become what they are meant to be."

Orabono. Night. They both in their own way recognized something that I couldn't. That I'm special. It's a rare man who sacrifices his life for another, and someone the Light can ill afford to do with out. That's what makes me...me. Even without Lilith's strength, my own will see me whole again.

"I'm ready."

[Wired*Nun]

"People change all the time, but it's usually very slowly, or very suddenly, and it's seldom of their own volition. Of the sudden kind, there has to be some kind of life-changing event." His eye twitches in what might have been a wink.

"I think dying counts."


"I'm ready."

"Then so am I...except for one or two small things. I will have the helicopter readied...meet me on the pad in five minutes?"

He shows Paul to the door.

A moment later, Paul can hear the APU's whine as it spins the helo turbines to operational speed.

[TreyKincaide]

Arriving with no personal effects of consequence, Paul sojourns quietly and thoughtfully to the awaiting flight pad.

He stands there waiting.

Would you to talk to Gale while I'm gone? If you can, I mean? I don't intend for you to try to explain all this to her, but while I recover, I think she deserves something more than a 'training accident' line.

[Wired*Nun]

Of course. I'll take her under my wing, assuming my wings work. I really don't know what state I'll be in. This kind of thing is very rare. I've only heard of two cases where naked Nephil have been able to peacefully reoccupy bodies...two cases in over ten thousand years.

The pilot waves Paul over. A moment later, mesmer, dressed in a black Nehru outfit reminding Paul of movies from the 60s, joins him. As soon as they snap their seatbelts, the bird lifts off like a fast elevator.

The cabin is remarkably well soundproofed, reducing the noise to the level of a typical airline cabin.

Mesmer slouches back in his seat, crossing his arms and letting his chin fall to his chest, looking at Paul from under hooded eyelids. He suddenly seems twenty, instead of timeless.

"What do you think of the training thus far?"

[TreyKincaide]

Paul stares out of the window as the chopper makes its ascent. He glances over at Mesmer's question and rises an eyebrow, "So far, with a few added exceptions, it seems what I think most specialized military training would be like. The emphasis hasn't been so much to follow orders without thinking like Basic, but rather be able to react quickly on one's feet. A distinction, I believe, to be motivated as much by practicality of solo operative tactics as ideology.

"The rest? I don't know what to make of it except I've been dreading it for the last month. It's the next step in the dehumanizing process, and, at least it my case appears to be working. When I Return I won't fear death, and will likely become used to pain, so won't hesitate to throw myself in harm's way. Further, it'll be pain I willingly subjected myself to rather than inflicted on me leaving me with no one to resent. It's almost as if this event was planned or Fated to coincide with this step of my development," he quirks a smile from the side of his mouth.

"Maybe both."

A shrug of his shoulders, "I guess time precludes the last logical step where we use our newfound abilities in tandem. Fortunately, the need for massive organized strikes are rare, no? Perhaps, there'll be time for it later at some point"

[Wired*Nun]

Mesmer raises an eyebrow, Spocklike, without coming out of his slouch.

"Dehumanizing? 'Greater love hath no man, than that he lay down his life for his friend.' The greatest, most human acts in history have always been acts of sacrifice. Do you feel more, or less, human today, than you did before Vicki Drexel tried to end your existence?"

[TreyKincaide]

"Asks the man who has walked the Earth for untold millennia. If mortality defines human, then yes I am less human than I was before. There is a difference between Faith and Knowing there is life after death. The latter undermines the former.

"Most armed training by nature and design is dehumanizing for no act separates man greater than taking the life of another.

"I used the term before to speak to the notion of training to consistently unlearn motor reflexes to pain, react faster than the eye can see yet to do so with precision and control beyond human capability, altering reality with a song, although songs can and do change the world, or simply living apart when everyone's forgotten you because you want them to."

Paul pauses thoughtfully, "Okay, point taken. My argument unravels when I recognize that in many cases Gifts are extensions of what is humanly possible."

"Still, Lilith, Ash, Joan, and you seem alien and all too human at the same time."

[Wired*Nun]

"We're just a lot older. We've developed eccentricities. We've eliminated many of our own weaknesses, but not all, for sure. And knowing more just makes me know what I don't know even more. One thing I think I do know, though, is that while mortality is of the body, humanity is a thing of the spirit. On that score, you have nothing to fear of dehumanization."

He shrugs. "Any sufficiently arcane magic acts like technology...that's why Gifts are not magic. Gifts may or may not be consistent, or reliable. They are fuelled by faith, confidence, and the will. They interact with other gifts in unpredictable ways. It's best to always leave yourself with a lot of reserve capacity, to cover that unpredictability."

He sighs. "Forgive me, I lapse easily into lecture. But I hope to lead you to certain understandings."

He pauses for a moment, blinking slowly at Paul, as if formulating his next sentence.

"From where do you think human decisions proceed? Colloquially - where do they come from?"

[TreyKincaide]

Paul blinks and stops himself from lapsing into prompting factors or models of decision making. He pauses and glances back out the window, "I suppose, by your definition human choice is a Gift motivated by will, faith, confidence. Free will. The ability to chose at all. Equally semi-reliable and unpredictable as anything we can do."

[Wired*Nun]

"Hmmm. Epiphanies are hard to transfer. Even harder when they were gradual. But let me throw this out to you as something to think about. It's something of which I have become convinced, but that doesn't make it true. It's not provable."

"If we are simply sums of causality, of the overwhelming interaction of factors in an infinitely complex system, we must - must! - come to the conclusion that we do not choose anything. And if we do not choose, we can no more be responsible for our goods or evils than a stone rolling down a mountainside, or a decaying isotope."

"Therefore, if we are to talk about ethics, or morals, or good or evil in any form, we must intrinsically acknowledge at least one factor independent - non-dependent, that is - on these natural factors. Something within people that makes them contingent beings - beings who can make an original decision that flows from a first cause of some form. Something that truly exists independent of natural control. Subject to influence, of course, but not control."

"That makes you and me and every human being, mortal or otherwise, a unique and irreplaceable thing. It makes us absolute marvels, transcendent above and beyond the causal natural universe. It places us on another plane of reality altogether. In your heart - in your guts, if you will, you know this, that you and I are of an order impossibly superior to the machine, be it mechanical or organic."

"I believe it is this, and this alone, that makes us unique, and in any way of value - that we are, intrincially, first causes."

[TreyKincaide]

"Sure. The spark of divinity argument," Paul nods. "I still fail to understand how that leads to what you're trying to impart. At this point I have--we are the same because we can choose but that doesn't explain our difference. I guess I missed something."

[Wired*Nun]

Mesmer presses his fingertips to his forehead, as if managing a headache.

"You toss off terms as if they explain, rather than obscure. Despite all my advantages, I still find it difficult to communicate concepts which I have recognized mainly through intuition. But I still try, especially as now, when I have time, a captive audience, and nothing else to forward. And I always seek to gain new insight, as I know I have not come to the end if it. But I am pondering the core of what makes actions right or wrong."

"Let's take as a given that a purely mechanistic universe eliminates morality - that morality by its very nature exists only when there is free will. In other words, if this were a purely mechanistic, deterministic universe, morality is an illusion manufactured by the illusion of consciousness. Contingency enables morality. Without contingency, there is no morality."

"Furthermore, I believe it is only this true free will, this first cause attribute of contingent beings, that sets us apart from a mechanistic universe. Contingency enables meaning. Without contingency, there is no meaning."

"At the intersection of these two principles - meaning and morality - that we find good and evil. This is the third step, and, I believe, the measure of all things. Simply put, my thesis is this: the good or evil of any action can be measured by evaluating its impact on the contingency of other beings."

"Note that I did not say its impact on the beings themselves. I said its impact on the contingency - free will."

"And yes, I will eventually come to a more practical conclusion that applies to our particular circumstances..."

[TreyKincaide]

"Sorry, just trying to reason by analogy. I think I'm back on track. The height of narcissism--what we consider to be evil--is selfishly imposing one's will over others. Like Orabono," Paul's eyes shade darkly. AFter a brief pause he shrugs off the pique of anger.

"Murder. Theft. etc. could be reduced to the same selfish application. By ending one's life, you impact the being's free will. By converting his possession, you do the same."

"Things grow murky though. Self defense for instance. One's drive to survive is thereby an evil act. Not to impune Lilith, for I believe she has the highest integrity, but her ability to warp fate raises another question. She does not impact a being's contingecy except so far as to limit or guide available options. I suspect, that although you meticulously restrain yourself, your Gift could raise a similiar issue. If the good or evil of an act is measured by impact, is intent a factor? Is an evil intended act that has a beneficial impact thereby less evil? Is a good intended act that sours thereby evil?"

"I think I need an example to help clarify your last note. It is hard to conceptualize an action that impacts an individual but not their contingency."

[Wired*Nun]

"True, it's not so easy to parse out things once one proceeds from theory to practice. Causing pain, for example - some people think to cause another pain is evil. I say, not if it actually improves their contingency - their freedom of action. A painful medical procedure that's ultimately beneficial, for example. Pain to elicit information is called torture. Pain to improve bodily function is called therapy. Most people understand this at an instinctual level. But you've actually struck to the heart of the issue, my dilemma."

He sits up, to rest his elbows on his knees, hands folded in front of him.

"Lilith and I are as alike, and as different, as any two people ever have been, because of what we do. And what we do is explicity to shape the contingencies of free beings. Vast numbers of them. I agonize over many of my decisions, weighing the impact on the contingencies to the third and fourth and fifth order. I know Lilith has as well...but she doesn't see things as I do. We've had enormous disagreements in the past...disagreements lasting decades, in some cases. And now, on the day of her possible re-emergence, I find myself of decidedly mixed feelings. In fact, I would almost say I find myself afraid."

"And I wonder whether facilitating this is, or is not, in conflict with my own chosen and convicted morality."

[TreyKincaide]

Paul blinks in surprise allowing a silence to hang in the air as he collects his thoughts, "It is true that I don't know you or Lilith well. Although circumstances have made Lilith close, we are not 'buddies.' She remains remote and veiled at all times."

"As a history teacher I will profoundly feel remorse when we are separated because I literally could sit for the next however many years simply documenting what she's seen, felt, and met during her life.

"Yet, she holds no interest in the past and only in the future.

"She has admitted that she's a meddler by nature, and occupies herself with the tapestries of others. There are times she will argue expediency and results over intent and means. I do not agree with everything she says, but I've learned to listen.

"If nothing else, this experience has shown me that all men and women are as different as night and day in thought, but those differences are necessary and to be celebrated while often times being right leads to being wrong.

"Perhaps, in your assistance, you open yourself up to the possibly of a remote impact through her deeds, but to forgo assistance would be an impact of the first order in conflict with your stated morality. Without belaboring the issue, you are improving her contingency just as I did when I consented to possession.

"I feel unease at the notion of using a donor body, but I derive from your stated beliefs that a dead body is but a machine and so even that should not cause you concern in practice.

"I could also make an attempt at arguing you're improving my contingency as well as your own, but," he clears his throat, "and I do not mean to be overly familiar, I have to wonder if moral qualms are just a barrier to greater feelings you are struggling to come to terms with."

[Wired*Nun]

"Possible. Simple fear of resuming a relationship I've craved for a century? Some of that, but not all. Fear of a rival in my manipulations? I've thought of that. Fear that her re-emergence at what seems another critical juncture is fated - fear that she's manipulating me? That I give up my own contingency by letting the genie out of the bottle again. I've run through the list."

"And I know I'm helping her find her freedom again, and give you back yours as well. But...as you pointed out, she is almost wholly consumed with the future. She's like an addict at times, distant and uncaring of anything but her chosen obsession."

"Maybe it's just fear of opening myself up to that much pain again, especially while I have so many irons in the fire." He sighs, a deep expression of fatigue and resignation.

"And maybe I just want to talk to someone who's involved...and you're it. And you're new to me, so I don't feel like I'm making the same old arguments. Maybe it's just that simple."

[TreyKincaide]

"Just that simple." Paul looks at Mesmer and shrugs. "I guess a on-going relationship is no more simple whether it runs 12 years or 1200. Just more time to muck it up."

He sighs, "Lilth manipulates. Does she do so in a way that negatively impacts contingency? I don't believe so. Some of her Gift has bled over at times and I can feel threads guiding me in particular directions. You know that feeling where everything seems to click, every light seems green, and there's not a cloud in the sky although you have the top down? That's what Fate is.

"I would hazard that if I paid attention hard enough I'd feel it right now, and I wouldn't be wrong in guessing she probably has something to do with it. Although our entwined fates make our future uncertain, she found a possibility, an oppurtunity, to make good my promise to help her.

"Nor do I believe it be coincidence that someone came along at just this time to help her who happened to have just the right Gift to resist the touch of the Naked. Night thought there was something to me. So did Orabono. I choose to believe this was part. That rest bulsters my need to Return.

"Now, I suppose I could be bitter, or annoyed, or even resentful. Yet I'm not. I'm here of my own will, or at least I think I am. Narrowing options isn't preventing contingency and indeed can even enable it when too many options are available."

"I also know that the current that I sometimes feel isn't an undertow. We aren't controlled by Fate. We can chose to swim up stream if we desire. Yeah, it's can be more difficult and tiring, but it's certainly possible.

"Hell, it might be as simple as turning left when you were meant to turn right. Certainly, not dying seems an attractive alternative, but could I live with the consequences? Is a man the sum of his experiences, or does his reactions define him? I heard a line from a movie when you pray for patience, does God give you patience, or does He give you opportunities to be patient?

"When I asked Joan how I should react when Gale lashes out at me, she told me to stand my ground and take it. Pain--emotional, physical, and spiritual--Heals. Believing different would undermine my ability to come back," he shrugs again.

"I think now I recognize that I welcome the pain over the emptiness I felt when Gale was gone from my life. You may feel differently. I don't know. What I do know is that Lilith's been silent through out this conversation. I also know, hopefully without treading upon her confidence, having felt first hand the depth of emotion she feels that it may not be possible for one person to care so much about another as she does for you."

[Wired*Nun]

"Sometimes I feel pain is my only friend. Other times, I am amazed at my blessings. And I'm aware of your arguments, or variations on them. At the visceral level, I feel like what I do is more honest, since my manipulations are immediate, and in the presence of the recipient, rather than completely sub rosa. Once you are away from me, I can do nothing that any mortal couldn't. She pulls invisible strings, all the time, at any distance...even upon me, I am sure."

"As for Lilith...she's forgotten that you and I am even here. My control of Anonymity is such that I can discriminate among persons in my presence. But the only way to cut the strings would be to make that permanent...and to do that would be tantamount to cutting out my own heart with a dull knife."

"So I suppose I'm just confessing conflicts and hoping to spread around more insight at the same time. I don't have any evidence you have any special role to play, but I'm aware of what some others think, so I'm keeping it in mind."

"For what it's worth, I also wanted to commend you on your courageous decisions - to risk yourself for her, to make our cause your own, and now to risk yourself yet again. Whatever happens, you will have already affected the fate of many, just by bringing her back."

[TreyKincaide]

"A contrary argument would be that you have the ability to use a surgeon's precision and instaneous effect while her craftings take time and somewhat unsure delayed reaction. Which is worse? Which is better? Does it matter? From my perspective having seeming unsubtle personalized Gift such as Healing, the distinction you make approaches counting angels on the head of a pin."

Paul listens to Mesmer's commendation, smiles, and nods his head.

[Wired*Nun]

"Yes, that's the problem with epiphanies. They can only be expressed as arguments. Intuition cannot be communicated. It's rather like trying to describe a flavor in words - the description is always inadequate. But lost causes seems to be something of a speciality with me." He sits back, running a hand over the armrest in idle thought.

"My father - he who claimed that title, anyway, - made a more radical argument still. He claimed that any limitation on free will - his free will anyway - was the true evil. He repudiated obedience of any sort, to anyone. However, he expected it of me, which once I became old enough to think critically, I pointed out to him."

"He was not amused."

[TreyKincaide]

"Hypocrites usually aren't. I know all about obedience. My old man was career military and squared away as they come. Expected his family to be too. Probably because I was the middle child I mouthed off more than I could have and bowed up a couple times too many. He knocked me down a peg several times when I was too smart for my own good.

"I think that's why my instinct is argue about anything. I know that's where my disrespect for authority comes from," He stretches in the chair.

"Okay, so let me attack this from another angle. You've been advocating your intuition while I've been arguing on Lilith's behalf. Let's switch roles. Attack your intuition."

[Wired*Nun]

A long, sputtering sigh.

"Don't think I haven't, in my own mind. I can tear up the edges but I can't repudiate my conviction. But all right. I'll follow your suggestion."



"Unproductive pain is the biggest problem I have encountered. For example, if I inflict unending and unproductive pain on something, to no other or higher purpose, is that morally neutral? If the pain itself has no other effect than the misery of of the recipient? I feel like I should call this evil, yet I can't...unless I believe that all pain is limiting to contingency. Conversely, what if I inflicted unending pleasure on you to the point that it overrode your desire to do anything else but indulge in it? Yet how can providing someone pleasure be evil?"

"Is that what you meant?"

[TreyKincaide]

"It's as much as me changing perspective as repudiation," Paul replies. "I'm certain that I lack the means to articulate your position adequately, but perhaps in attempting to do so I can find the flavor of your argument."

He listens quietly and rubs the two conflicting concepts against each other in his mind, "Without getting into example, we know that all pain is not limiting to contingency. If unending and unproductive pain becomes a state of being, does it really inflict misery upon the recipient? If the being's free will remains intact do they shake their fist at an unkind benefactor or do they continue on their path?

"Conversely, an individual steeped in pleasure to the extend described will fail to grow and stagnate. The will not even take care of themselves and ensure their own survival. The second example is a matter of neglience and easier to repute than the first. Although intent remains what we would consider wholesome, you would be responsible for the impact on other being's will. A doctor does not intend to leave his tools in a patient's body, but there exists a moral outrage at his malpractice.

"When adminstering to an injured man there is a point that one must stop indulging his injury lest he never walk again.

"Lack of contingeny leads to stagnation and ultimately oblivion."

[Wired*Nun]

"Exactly! But I can limit contingency for the greater good, can't I? Isn't that what all government is, limiting freedoms to protect them? If I rule, I make rules, limitations and boundaries, the better to preserve greater freedoms and liberties for the greater number. I infringe on your contingency to the extent necessary to limit your greater infringement on others' contingency. I imprison you so you do not murder or steal or commit other crimes. In doing so, do I compromise my morality? Are we reduced to 'the greatest good for the greatest number?' But then 'good' becomes a tautalogy, self-defining."

"Perhaps some things cannot be defined, only recognized. As had been said about obscenity - 'I cannot define it, but I know it when I see it.' Perhaps I cannot define good and evil, but I know it when I see it."

[TreyKincaide]

"Can you? You fail to distinguish between an existing plurality. If good is what you see, then it is arbitrary and therefore meaningless in which case anything we do is likewise meaningless.

"Within any society we shall concern ourselves with the good of the state and the good of the individual. First to address the good of the state...society is formed upon a social contract in which the individual agrees to limits its contingency in order to cohabitate peacefully with others. One decides to refrain from certain acts to be protected against certain acts. However, it is still contingent on the being's choice to purport themselves accordingly. If they should decide to break the social contract under which they live, they've agreed to subject themselves to the consequences by taking advantages of society's benefits. If they do not agree with the social contract then they likewise have means of egress. They can choose to do nothing, attempt to change the social construct, or leave.

"We classify evil governments as those ruled by the will of a few or the one. Despots impose their rules on society. When a government represents the will of its constituents it is deemed good provided, of course, that the collective constituting will is also good.

"Within every social context exists a plurality of ethicality. Having agreed to limit oneself within the accords of the populace each individual still ascribes to some semblance of morality. By refraining from impacting on the contingency of others they hold to an individual good while avoiding narcissistic tendencies to do otherwise.

"This model is what Ash describes as being right minded. He urges consistency at all times so that a being remains true to themself and their own contingency."

[Wired*Nun]

"But you're talking more of ethics than morality. A social compact to euthanize the handicapped, for example, may be ethical under the accepted rules but intrinsically immoral. The ancient Greeks espoused democracy while recognizing its limitations - the 'tyrrany of the majority.' I think there has to be some fundamental and universal moral litmus test to apply to any action, some form of rigorous process, that will yield an accurate result. The simpler the test, the more likely it is to be universal. The E=MC2 of morality."

"Some days I think I've got it. Others, like it's impossible to grasp."

[TreyKincaide]

"Hmmm...."

Paul inhales sharply slowing drawing it out before speaking, "Maybe I would not have said this a month ago, but perhaps...perhaps there is no fundamental test that we may understand. Perhaps we aren't meant to.

"Your contingency model lacks the element of faith which we know to be of fundamental import. By reducing the question of morality, in some views the only measure of a life lived, to an equation, you seek to become a perfectly good being.

"However, isn't that what most religions hold God to be? Does it thereby stand to reason that this is His purview and His alone? Is it not hubris to know or to assume to know the face of God?

"Genesis states that Man ate the apple and so gained the knowledge of Good and Evil. However, we are no closer to the definition than we are to the Creator. Thus it may suffice to say that we understand the existence of morality if not it's substance.

"That brings me to the notion that perhaps good as far as we may understand it is the struggle to be good and the belief--no the faith--that we thereby are good."

[Wired*Nun]

"The idea that the journey is the goal. The struggle after rightness is the proof of rightness itself, which leads back to Ash's model of harmonizing intent with integrity, but disregards result. But if we bring a traditional all-good God into it, we simplify everything - obedience to the God is good, anything else is evil. If we allow for an imperfect God, then he's got the same problem we have, just bigger. More power, more responsibility for the good and evil."

"I'm not denying the possibility of the God's existence - I have experienced plenty of evidence that things greater than I exist - but I don't accept that simply obeying God is the measure of all things. A perfect God will have an underlying integrity of principle that we should be able to discern, reason or intuit. If we can find the principles, we can make moral decisions without resorting to 'because God said so,' yet ultimately end up in perfect harmony with that God...or at least his intents and purposes."

[TreyKincaide]

"Agreed. 'Because God said so' has been used to rationalize all manner of atrocity through out history."

Reaching the bounds of his reasoning Paul lapses into silence.

[Wired*Nun]

The silence continues for a few minutes; it's clear that Mesmer is chewing things over, reordering new and fragmented thoughts. Eventually, he speaks.

"Trying to find a Unified Field Theory of Morality is clearly the work of several lifetimes. I know, I've been working on this one on and off since the 1500s. I was reinvigorated by the Renaissance as much as anyone...but lately I'm despairing of progress. So. Let us turn to more practical matters."

"Separating you and Lilith may be something like separating Siamese Twins, but in a spiritual sense. I am hoping that your extraordinary healing ability will translate into the spiritual realm and sustain you. But I thought of something else."

"It is rare that anyone can do what you did - provide a host for one of the Naked Ones, while rtaining your identity. There are some mortal Mediums that can do it for weak mortal spirits, but they completely lose their consciousness and can only sustain the posession for a short time. Normally, when one of the Naked Ones posesses a mortal, the mortal dies, the spirit is driven out, and the newly Clothed One regenerates the body."

"In your case...the word will probably spread, it always does - that you have been a successful host for one of the Naked Ones - and that you might be one again. Especially as a Youngling, you might become a target for those who wish to bring back one of Them, and provide them with a spiritual slave - taking advantage of your Gift and situation for their benefit. In short, that you might be a candidate for possession."

"So, we have to protect you for a time, then rehabilitate you, then train you to resist spiritual attacks. It's a hard road you've chosen. I hope can I live up to your selflessness."

[TreyKincaide]

"Yeah. I've expressed concerns to Lilith originally over that very thing. I'm fortunate in the regard that the Naked are rare. I am not eager to become a revolving door from the afterlife. My original intent was to help Lilith 'pass on,' but I don't think that's a viable goal where Nephilim are concerned who remain by virtue of their will. I somehow think going through this process isn't to be done lightly," he adds drily.

"I don't understand why Narcs would be interested in my ability, though. I'd assume they lack a moral prohibition to possessing mortals, and so their Naked number would be small. Unless...they would covet the prospect of collecting souls in one concentrated individual..."

He shudders at the thought.

[Wired*Nun]

Mesmer raises one eyebrow. "Now there's an interesting thought. But probably not too practical. Still..." He snorts.

"No, I was more thinking of a possession to take advantage of your own Gift or Gifts, adding to their own. If they dominated you, they could effectively have both. There are also some who would just like to have you for a subject of experimentation. For example...while they are rare in any one place, there are actually many - thousands, at least - Naked and ghosts and other disembodied spirits of those who have not moved on. You could provide a host for any one of them. What if you hosted a mortal ghost? One that posed no threat to you, but provided a bandage to your spiritual wounds? Would you eventually absorb the weaker spirit, and the personality, or would you be forever living in a shared body? There are many interesting questions that could be answered, if you were to be made a guinea pig."

Paul gets the feeling Mesmer is as curious about the answers as anyone, but simply won't use immoral methods to get them.

[TreyKincaide]

"Lovely thought. Yeah, I think I'll pass. I have no wish to cannabalize others nor lock myself into something again out of ignorance. I may be selfless, but I do not lack a self."

"I'm also curious on what the effect will be when we separate. We assume that my soul will be torn, but what will happen to the bits that trail with Lilith? Are we so intermingled that something of her will stay behind?"

[Wired*Nun]

"I don't know. I can speculate from a certain amount of educated guesswork that yes, you will each leave something of yourselves behind. But there is too much unknown, right now. We'll have to do the best we can. Sorry if that's not comforting."

The tone of the helicopter's vibrations changes, and Paul looks out to see city below. Mesmer slips on his seatbelt. "One gets more careful as one gets older," he observes wryly.

They spiral downward to a landing in the idyllic setting of Stillewald, where Joanne Spann stands at the side of the landing pad. The blades stop quickly, betraying the presence of rotor brakes, unusual on a civilian craft.

Stepping out, Mesmer makes a small formal bow to Dr. Spann, reminding him of a Prussian officer. Joanne for her part steps up to peck Mesmer on the cheek. "So good to see you again, Anton. An arousing day, n'est pas? But it will be some time before she is ready for attentions of the carnal sort." She smiles and winks, displaying an earthy sensibility common among the medical profession.

Mesmer for his part veils any irritation, and speaks lightly. "Joanne...our love affair has spanned millenia. I have waited more than a century, I can wait a bit longer."

She sniffs, melodramatically, as if to say, I don't believe you. She moves to greet Paul as well, saying, "You are looking well, dear boy. I left a message on Gale's voice mail, but she hasn't responded. We'll make sure she's here before we take action."

Waving with one hand, she walks briskly from the pad to the main building, talking as she goes.

"The young woman's legal name is 'Emiley Wilhelmina Bursiaga.' She was traumatized by abuses both self- and abuser-inflicted. When she came to me she was catatonic. It appears her soul fled the hell her life had become. There is nothing I can do for her, and she is an empty shell."

"The easiest thing to do will be to have her return to life legally by appearing to effect a cure. Lilith can, I am sure, deal with the family in some humane fashion, perhaps by claiming amnesia or incapacity. Or, you could create a new identity from whole cloth, and Emiley can die in my custody...the trick is the timing of that. She would need to be declared legally dead while she had no evidence of life...perhaps by inviting a colleague to consult on her case, then inducing her death. This course is fraught with risk to the Shroud, however."

Mesmer replies, hands locked behind his back, "Simple is best, I think, for now. Let's leave her Emiley, and we can deal with her former connections later. That's something my organization is qualified to handle."

[TreyKincaide]

"I guess you always leave something of yourself behind just it my case, it's literal." Paul clicks the belt and grins sympathetically, "Never liked flying myself. It always flip flops my stomach."

Paul watches as the landing pad spirals closer and closer and happily plants his feet on the ground. He listens quietly to the exhange.

Wow, she's almost picking at him like a younger sister would. I see now why Lilith and him both seem annoyed by Joan.

"Thanks Joan," he barely makes out before bing directed to move. He barely listens to Joan's almost rambling explanation as they entering the main building.

It's strange watching them interact. For a moment there talking to Mesmer was almost like talking to an older friend or professor. Now he's dealing with Joan behind a wall of being an impassive Elder.

"Perhaps Lilith having some familial ties would do her some good. Help her adjust," Paul thinks aloud until he realizes what he's saying, "Uh, yeah. I don't mean to be hasty, but what's going to happen to me? I mean, how do you plan to carry out the procedure? What is the likelihood that this will work? What message did you leave for Gale?"

So much for informed consent.

[Wired*Nun]

Mesmer turns an impassive eye on Paul as he comments about Lilith. "Thank you, Paul. It will be an adjustment, but it's unlikely that some otherwise unacquainted mortal ignorants will provide her with any help." He says this mildly, there is no sting in it. Just a statement of fact. Still, it seems to show an underlying paternalistic condescension toward non-Nephilim...

Spann answers Paul's last question first. "I simply told her that you were visiting, and she should join us. She will be alarmed enough when it is explained to her, I am sure I did not need to add to it by leaving frightening messages."

Mesmer answers the rest. "The transfer will be effected by Lilith herself. She has the experience and capacity to leave your body and take up in the new one. This is the simple part."

"The -- Emiley's -- body will probably die from the shock. She will then be regenerated by Lilith's spirit, presuming, as we do, that Lilith does not pass on. This is also simple, almost routine."

"The difficult part will be keeping you from passing on. The shock may or may not kill your body, but you will probably be in enormous emotional pain. Perhaps it will feel like grief, the pain of losing a beloved one, the desire to follow her into death that overcomes even the best of us." He speaks with pain in his voice, as if from experience.

Of course...there must have been some delay between Lilith's disappearance, apparent final death, and appearance as an apparition. Mesmer must have believed she was gone forever.

"With both of your permissions, I will provide a conduit between you and your wife, so you will be aware of each other. So she can help you. And I will provide a buffer against the pain you will cause her, and insurance that you will not seize her spirit and plaster it to your own to stanch the wound."

They pass into the main building, where Spann speaks for a moment with her staff, then out the back to one of the cottages.

"So while we have time, we need to talk about your decisions before you have to make them." Joanne enters the cottage, leaving Mesmer and Paul on the front porch. Mesmer turns to Paul, earnestly.

"I believe I know the answer, but I need you to tell me. If you are not strong enough to resist trying to meld with your own wife, I shall keep you forcibly separate, yes? And if I do, there may be rage, and confrontation, and despair...you may not be yourself."

[TreyKincaide]

Paul chews his thoughts quietly until Joanne leaves them alone on the porch, "If you're asking me if I'd rather die than hurt Gale, then the answer is yes. I'd prefer not to expose her to danger, but that's her choice to make," he adds stiffly.

He shrugs and smiles, "I...think you proved to me that limiting Gale's contingency out of fear for her safety is a greater evil. You're wise, but I think you're a little too dismissive of human strength. Just as I believe that a mortal family might ground Lilith in mundane concerns for her betterment. Maybe if she had a something fragile to root her in the present she wouldn't be carried away by her obsession with the future.

"I didn't want to say anything in front of Joanne, because your demeanor has changed substantially since we landed. Perhaps manipulating above in your guilded tower and the pain of watching generation after generation of good people die has left you farther divorced from humanity than you would have had me, or yourself, believe. Then again, what do I know? Could just be my problems with authority flapping my gums again."

He steps inside.

[Wired*Nun]

"If she would not risk herself for you, then she is not the woman you love. And if she doesn't, I have no idea for whom or for what you will fight the pull of eternity."

He shrugs and smiles, "I...think you proved to me that limiting Gale's contingency out of fear for her safety is a greater evil. You're wise, but I think you're a little too dismissive of human strength. Just as I believe that a mortal family might ground Lilith in mundane concerns for her betterment. Maybe if she had a something fragile to root her in the present she wouldn't be carried away by her obsession with the future.

"I didn't want to say anything in front of Joanne, because your demeanor has changed substantially since we landed. Perhaps manipulating above in your guilded tower and the pain of watching generation after generation of good people die has left you farther divorced from humanity than you would have had me, or yourself, believe. Then again, what do I know? Could just be my problems with authority flapping my gums again."



He listens to this gravely, thoughtfully. "You may have something there. Perhaps so. She generally has less concern for the individual than do I...she sees the whole, caring less for each thread except as it weaves her tapestry. Perhaps she needs to be reminded of the quality of human suffering."

He pulls his face up into a fierce, wintry smile. "Perhaps I do, too. In point of fact...I think that's brilliant. An excellent reminder that my prespective is neither the only one, nor necessarily correct."

He slaps Paul on his upper arm, gripping briefly. "Take heart...and I'll take heed, agreed?"

[TreyKincaide]

Paul blinks in surprise and relaxes into a more easy grin, "Agreed."

I used to teach by trying to get students to look at the faces of the past. Now I'm suggesting to Elders...friends...to look at the faces of the present. There's something profound to this just beyond my grasp of understanding.

Paul holds the door open and walks inside. He strolls past Spann and embraces Gale in a long senuous kiss with no concern for modesty. After he pulls back he takes her hands into his own and grins at his wife, "I'd like to introduce you to Mesmer, our Boss, and our friend." He pauses to allow them both to exchange pleasantries.

"Joanne and Mesmer are here because...well, I'll explain if you'll take a seat. They're here to help you understand to help us do something great. I've wanted to tell you this for awhile now, but..." he shrugs.

"We need to talk, but before I begin, I need you to know that I'm putting my life in your hands. Rather than shield you from danger, I'm going to do what I should have a long time ago and afford you the opportunity to do what you've always wanted. I'm going to ask you to put yourself in harm's way, and I trust that you'll do it because you once said to me that more than anything you wished to stand side by side and do great things together. I'm going to ask you to risk your life because only you can and because I love you more than anything. I trust you. You're my equal and my best friend."

He spares a glance at Mesmer and Joanne, "Remember when I said that ghosts exist? I know because I've met one. Her name is Lilith and she's here with us..."

Paul starts recapping the night he and Lilith became one, her sadness, her loneliness, and how his Gift melded the two of them together. He patiently answers any questions she may have and opens the floor for Mesmer and Joanne to jump in.

Provided she takes the news in stride, "And now there's a possibly of her finding a new life and to be reunited with Mesmer. The two have been lovers as long as there have been stars in the sky. However, for her to escape she'll have to rend my soul. If she doesn't she may never have the chance again and we'll be stuck like this forever.

"I may die, but even if I do I will come back.

"But only if you're there to help me."

[Wired*Nun]

After disentangling herself with a giggle, Gale shakes hands with Mesmer. "Mister Mesmer. That's an interesting name. Any relation to..."

Mesmer smiles, charming. "I knew him. He died suddenly, and it seemed a useful cover for a time. I will probably have to change names soon. Hazards of the trade."

From the back bedroom of the cottage comes the susurration of vacuum pumps, the beep of electronic monitors. A nurse ducks through the door with a tray of somethings.

They seat themselves comfortably for Paul to make his explanations. Mesmer chimes in once in a while, clarifying a point here and there - such as, that Lilith will be brought back within the shell of the soul-dead woman.

Gale listens, earnestly, her eyes brimming - or sparkling. She seems fearful, but eager as well. He can see her lust for more, more, more, and tries to see it as a strength rather than a weakness.

Taking his hand in both of her, she says, "You know - I tell you now, I promise you, I swear to you, I'm here for you. Now and forever. I'll do whatever it takes. I was always - I seemed - stronger than you were, but now, you're stronger than I am. I mean, I know you are. You know, that's what I always needed. I had a hard time loving someone I didn't respect and admire, because my priorities were screwed up. Now I see that what you did - before - was admirable too, but now, you've grown so much..."

Her words pummel him and carress him, reminding him how she could always hurt him with her frankness, how he both loved and hated the things she said, one minute lifting him up, the next, striking him down.

Remember what I told you...she doesn't mean to hurt you, she's like a child who speaks her mind without enough thought. If you are to be her everything, you must be the parent to her child, the lover to her lover, the friend to her friend.

"I think you're doing a great and noble thing, even if I don't understand it all. You're trying to save someone from being stuck beyond the grave. If all I have to do is save you...that's simple."

Mesmer and Spann exchange glances at this naive declaration, tossing a mental coin to see who will speak. Finally, Spann does.

"My dear, this will not be easy. Not at all. You must be ready to fight for your man, for he will be in terrible pain. At the same time, you must not let him take you and...join with you. For you, to join will feel wonderful; to deny yourself will mean great frustration, as if you must throw off a lover between arousal and release. But if you join, parts of you both will die, and what remains will be neither of you. And to Paul, it will feel as if she's spurned you...or, if you cannot be kept apart...murdered you."

She says, hesitantly now, "I...I think I understand. I'm not as wide-eyed as all that. I'll do what you need me to do, if someone can explain it to me. I might be...impulsive, but no one ever said I was stupid."

[TreyKincaide]

I know. She doesn't mean to be backhanded despite the way she comes across.

Paul squeezes, "No, you've never been that. Mesmer is going to create a psychic link between us. Like when something gets in a wound and the skin grows over, metaphysically the same has happened to Lilith as my soul is trapping her. Her leaving is going to put me in so much pain that I will want to die. I...will not be myself.

"The idea is that the mental link Mesmer creates will be a life raft of our love so I don't given myself over to eternity in blind agony. The danger Joanne mentioned is that I may seize upon the link and forcibly rip your soul out of your body to use as a bandage for my own possibly subsuming your consciousness in the process."

"Mesmer, would you establish a link now so we can become accustomed to it while we wait? It might help for her to also become acquainted with Lilith."

Should he do so, Gale I'd like you to meet Lilith.

[Wired*Nun]

Mesmer coughs, saying, "It's not enternity in agony that will tempt you, Paul. It's eternity in bliss...or at least, relief from your pain."

He reaches pulls over a straight chair to the sofa where Gale and Paul are sitting, and takes the naked wrist of each.

"Just relax...there's nothing to fear."

Paul's awareness to externals dims, and he realizes that there is someone else - two someones - sharing a...thoughtspace. He easily identifies Gale, and the other one must be Antonius Mesmer himself. His mind orders the experience into a picture in his mind, blobs of identity. Gale's is pale green, her favorite color, while Mesmer's is a crimson violet.

Gale I'd like you to meet Lilith.

The green colored blob reaches out, and he feels the words in his mind, similar to his communications with Lilith.

Oh...is that you? You're...who is who?

It's all right, child. Right now, we're both "us." But now you see the difficulty.

Another presence appears in the thoughtspace, something strong, and warm, and healing.

Hello, everyone. Paul realizes it's Spann, and he distantly registers her touch. I'll be drawing Lilith to her new body, while Antonius deals with you two. Else she might meld with him.

Our path is fraught with danger...but great rewards come only with great risk. Paul feels soothed and emboldened by his presence, despite the intellectual knowledge that it's an effect of his Gifts.

Telepathic medication...involuntary.

The pale green presence hovers uncertainly near, extending and withdrawing a kind of feeler, until it finally touches Paul. Mesmer moves closer.

Paul feels a connection to Gale, an insight into her he's never had before. Conflicted, driven, compassionate, spiteful, wounded and insecure, with a tremendous capacity for giving, along with a fear of -

Abandonment. She drives others away so they won't leave her first. Classic, obvious, so hard to overcome. Maybe this will give her insight, help her see beyond.

The connection feels good, too, as Gale becomes aware of it and she suddenly moves to press her essence against his, to widen the connection.

The crimson thing intervenes, forcing them apart, sparking a pang of resentment in Paul before he regains perspective.

You begin to understand. Both of you must temper your desire for the comfort of each other, if you are to remain intact.

[TreyKincaide]

I see now. I didn't realize that Mesmer and Lilith would be courting the same disasterous temptation that Gale and I will. If Lilith is drawn to you, you'll die from her touch, and there'll be nothing stopping me.

Paul shifts his awareness to his green wife, Hon, you're going to have to concentrate on being you. Only after Mesmer interceded, did I learn to shield thoughts from Lilith, and then I stumbled a bit before I figured out that I had to direct my thinking inward.

So, I'm going to reach outward, but you can't allow me to get close. You'll have to concentrate on being the strong and independent woman that I've always seen you to be, because no matter what happens or how much you try to push me away, I'll never leave you.

So, let's give you a few attempts to withstand my advances so you're ready.

The entwined blue and light pink entity reaches out towards Gale. They practice until Gale can successfully rebuke him without Mesmer's assistance.

Afterwards Paul projects to the group, Is there anything else that we'll need to be aware of?

[Wired*Nun]

There follows several hours of practicing, exercises of pushing, pulling, resisting, until it becomes a mental dance, a gymnastics session, virtual wrestling. They keep at it until Gale tires. She is notably weaker than any of the others - in fact, objectively speaking, there is an order of magnitude of difference between Paul and Gale, another order between Paul and Spann...and now he sees, another jump again between Spann and either of the two older ones.

This is a glimpse the true battlefield, Paul. We're not struggling with flesh and blood enemies, but against the spiritual powers of darkness that inhabit this present world. Every blow, every duel, every melee, every battle drives back the darkness and advances the light. Everything that strengthens you now will prepare you for the future.

Well spoken. Let us rest, for a bit, before we begin again.

The mental space they inhabit dissolves slowly, leaving a tableau of the physical. Paul is suddenly aware of his body again, stiffness and discomfort. One leg is asleep, and as he shakes out the kinks, he notices others doing so as well.

A meal is brought to the cottage, nonalcoholic beverages. Everyone eats. Gale sits close to Paul, and touches him frequently. Her eyes shine and he is acutely aware of her evolving viewpoint...elements of hero-worship, ambition, simple wonderment. It's strange, and good, and a bit awkward at the same time.

Afterward, they gather again, this time in the bedroom.

There is a mini-ICU set up in the room, a hospital bed with a young woman lying on it. IVs, monitors, a respirator, other machines of unknown function line the room. Spann dismisses the nurse.

The woman is young, but looks older - a very rough, emaciated twenty-five. There are scars all over her body, from burns and cuts, and needle tracks still unhealed over papery skin. Her teeth under her lips seems prominent, skull-like. He remembers from Health classes that prolonged Meth use causes sugar cravings that usually result in rotten teeth and receding gums.

The near-corpse screams "junkie," but Paul can see that she was once a pretty young woman, no different from the thousands of pubescent children in womens' bodies that streamed through his high school classes. Except for where her road ended...here.

[TreyKincaide]

Paul files in, and as he views the tableu of the young woman's pain his hand finds their way into Gale's.

What a waste.

From his vantage point, Paul eyes the junkie's scars and burns, "I hope she's found peace from her demons." He shakes his head sadly.

You might have to suffer the pains of her physical addictions. I'm sorry for that. You've chosen a hard road among hard roads.

I wonder how many kids of mine ended up in a bed like this. I still remember their names and faces, but it's hard to stay in touch with young adults with their lives before them. If I altered one kid's fate, then maybe I wasn't the failure I believed.

Paul stays quiet in the somber moment waiting for the group to settle in.

And here I stand prepared to die, and still I think more about others. I suppose, that's what it means to be a hero.

Paul whispers, "I love you," in Gale's ear and nods his willingness to begin.

[Wired*Nun]

Or an altruist...labelled or not.

I've been there before. I will regret leaving your magnificent body and healing spirit for a broken one, but my own spirit will heal it eventually. I have died countless times. I long ago decide that I will remain on this Earth - or in this universe should man reach the stars - until the End of Days. Life is pain, I have no fear of it. Let us on with it.

Gale presses her lips to his, then Mesmer steps between them. "Take her hand, Paul," instructs Mesmer, nodding at the woman on the bed. Spann takes her other hand, then Mesmer grasps Paul's free hand firmly in his, extending his own remaining hand to Gale. Gale takes Joann's, and the circle is complete.

The world of their room fades, to be replaced by the recently-familiar place of mindspace.

Paul feels the first of several strange sensations. He can't see himself, then he can - somehow through others' eyes. He can see his own self and Lilith's, a mass of blue and pink mashed together. He knows from something outside himself that this is just his perception, but it feels right.

The pink begins to sort itself out from the blue, lining up, drawing apart like skin stretched too hard against itself, a peculiar sort of pain that promises a sort of emptiness. Like being kicked in the balls, that hollow, empty feeling that is almost worse than the pain.

The stretching continues, and he feels as if his arms are being ripped from his sockets, slowly...but he has no arms, just a world of pain, ever-growing. He can feel a reflection of it in Lilith, as their minds and spirits begin to tear at the edges, like a phone book under a strongman's blunt fingers.

He convulses in agony, dimply aware of his own body now, and the grip on his hands. The crimson moves toward him, seizing him it its grip, but touching only blue. It is not comforting, but rather, holds him helpless and implacable against his reluctance. His consciousness recedes, then returns, as Lilith tears herself away from him. It feels like sinking death. He spirals downward.

A once-familiar cold ringing sound grows in his consciousness, along with the warmth of a golden light. The ringing is harsh, and he hates to hear it. It promises more pain, more death, misery. The light promises warmth, understanding, peace. The choice is simple.

As he turns toward the light, there comes a faint voice, a call, someone he once knew. His pain and emptiness deafen him, but it is persistent, plaintive.

Paul!

Go away.

Paul! I love you!

Who cares...I am empty.

Come back!

Nothing here but emptiness. He feels as if his guts have been spilled on the floor. He is void, and nothing will fill it.

Paul! I need you! I! NEED! YOU!

He hesitates. ...turn my back on someone who needs me...who cares...

Remember who you are, Paul. Remember why you care. Now is not the time. Here is not the place. Gale needs you.

[TreyKincaide]

Paul's tattered shade floats in the space between space and time between time blinded by the light of eternity. The damaged psyche makes war upon itself as Mesmer's word awaken a small chord of resistance.

Gale? It hurts. It hurts so much.

Forget that bitch! All that whore does is take. How much longer do you think it'll be before she spreads her legs for the next sucker? She got what was coming to her.

No, no, that's not true. I don't believe that. I don't believe that. I'm not that way!

Believe it. I'm you. Give up. You're empty. Hollow. This is the end of the road.

But they need me. Mom. Sis. They...they...

Will get along just fine with out you. you sorry sack of shit. They haven't needed you since Dad died, and then Dan carried the boat, worm. Let go. You deserve to be at peace. You don't owe anyone anything. Let someone else try to fail to make a difference. You're too weak.

Just as Paul's on the verge of breaking down and giving up a strong voice flows from the light into the nothingness of despair lifting the harrowed soul in blanketed warmth, "I raised you to do what was right. I'm proud of you, son. Carry on."

Dad? Dad!

Carry on, you will always remember
Carry on, nothing equals the splendor
Now your life's no longer empty
Surely heaven waits for you

Carry on my wayward son,
For there'll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Now don't you cry no more

[Wired*Nun]

The familiar tune echoes in his mind. He's unsure whether he's manufactured it or it's been somehow given to him as a sign, just as his father's voice blended with something more...and his own worse nature was not only that. The Adversary...

It doesn't matter. You are given what you are needed, if you truly need it.

Despite the pain of Mesmer's grip, Paul slips out, smokelike, to stand poised between the paths. He sees the part of himself that was Lilith coexistent with the body on the table, writhing in mirror pain.

Rejoin...

No!

Mesmer's words hold no power that over him, a mist, never touching. Joann moves between him and Lilith, interposing herself.

You cannot.


Paul! You have to come back. For both of us.


He turns to her, half a man to pitiful mortal woman...and sees, within the green glow, something else. Another spark...

[TreyKincaide]

Lilith momentarily forgotten the wretch stares fascinated by the green spark. Spurned by pain, he seethes forward reaching, searching.

What is this we see? We wants it, yes. My precious!

The wraith abruptly halts. It wails and writhes in anguish.

No!

Yes!

Help me!

Run away!

[Wired*Nun]

The fire of crimson blocks him from his beloved, from joining her, making her and the thing inside her whole, complete. This time, the red presence has substance, thwarting him at every turn. He scrabbles at it, a wounded wolf after prey. His conscious mind has receded, the animal taking over. Pain behind, perfect union ahead drives him with whips of craving.

Paul Hunting. PAUL DAVIS HUNTING, this is your beloved. You will consume her if you do this.

You will consume your child.

[TreyKincaide]

Child? My...Gale.

A spark of sanity glimmers in the feral beast. It bellows and rages. Unable to completely stop Paul turns his fury upon Mesmer. He flails and thrashes until the storm breaks. Spent, the tortured half-man curls into a ball upon the ground whimpering and moaning fractured cries of insanity.

[Wired*Nun]

I have to...I have to...

Gale moves toward the torn spirit, but the crimson blaze holds her back. Holds them apart. Fortunately, he hasn't the strength to fight anymore.

Mercifully, he loses consciousness.

****************************************

Waking is only pain, and loss.

Lilith...

He thought he loved Gale, but losing Lilith is a worse pain than he ever felt when Gale went away.

A hand on his brow...sleep...

Again. Again. Again...ad infinitum nauseum...

*******************************************
When he really awakes, it is the middle of the night...some night, there's no way of knowing. He's fuzzy with sleep and confusion, lying in a bed, the lights dim. Lilith lies next to him, but he puts off waking her for thirst and hunger - and the need to relieve himself.

He does that thing, drinks from the faucet, then comes back to look at her.

Not Lilith at all...it's Gale. His perceptions rearrange themselves.

Loss and relief war within him, love for Gale battling with the Lilith-shaped hole in his soul.

No one should ever have to be torn that way.

But others have been, somehow I know it.

He opens the bedroom door, finding himself in one of Stillewald's cottages. He raids the fridge, eating bread and cheese and lunchmeat and ice-cold peaches, soft and ripe, until he can't fit any more.

He crawls back in beside her, feels her stir slightly and back into him, spooning. The ache retreats, and he sleeps again.

*****************************************

He wakes again, this time to morning sun and the smell of cooking. He leans against the doorframe, looking out into the main space. He feels weak, and his body is thin, almost emaciated. Gale has her back to him, stirring eggs gently into a frying pan.

[TreyKincaide]

I hate dying...

Paul waits for one of Lilith's pithy remarks until he realizes he's alone again in his brainpan. He lumbers for a chair nearly collapsing. Gale turns her features colored with relief and worry.

"D..D...Dri-nk," Paul utters hoarsely as he props his face in palm. His tongue lags like swollen cracked rawhide. The first glass of water disappears, "Mo-re," followed rapidly by another.

He wipes his mouth, "Th-at's better. Thanks. I'll take extra helpings of everything. Please.

"Are-are you okay? Did I hurt you?

"Did it work? Is Mesmer and Spann alright? How long have I been under?"

Lilith? I'm lost without you.

[Wired*Nun]

Gale hesitates, gulps.

"Three weeks. They had you in the ICU after you...came back. They said...they said you might not make it." Her voice drops to a whisper.

"But I knew you would."

She turns off the stove, to come wrap him in her arms and help him to a chair. He really doesn't need that much help, but it feels good anyway.

"Everyone's okay. Lilith is in her new body...she's not very happy. I guess she used to be a knockout. But they say she'll get better, too."

She goes back to cooking, keeping one eye on him, cracking more eggs into the pan. "Ack. Somewhere between omelette and scrambled, I'm afraid."

A few moments later, she sets breakfast on the table, then keeps bringing things while he eats. She puts away some good portions herself. There's something nagging at his memory, about that. She was never a big eater before.

[TreyKincaide]

"Longer than last time then," Paul manages to utter between bites. "Dying sucks. Not going to do that again," the comforting lie rings false in his ears.

Yeah, if it was for someone like Lilith or Night, I'd do it a 1000 times. No chance of finishing training, now. Guess that means I'm out of a job...

"Lilith's...well. Lilith. Once you get past all her crap, she starts to grow on ya. Every now and then, like Mesmer, she'll entertain the notion that you might actually be right," Paul begins shoveling bits of egg and ham in almost inhaling the food as broken mirrors of the arduous task splinter in his mind.

I almost fell to my own narcissism, but something...Dad?!? It's all so damn hazy, though.

After several helpings, Paul pushes away his empty plate. He waits until Gale's finished before pulling her to take a weary, wobbly seat next to him on nearby devan, "We can get the dishes later. Right now, I need you to tell me what happened? It's like a million images fighting in my head. Cutting. Whirling. They don't make any sense."

"Did you hear Dad? Or did I imagine it? Are...are you...are we..." Paul wavers on the precipice of hope, "are we going to have a child?"

[Wired*Nun]

“Yes,” she replies simply. “A girl. I didn’t tell you at first because I wanted to have Joann run some tests.”

Run some tests…to make sure it was mine. He feels a flash of rage, remembering Justin Orabono…and remembering that he wasn’t really dead. Locked away in a vault somewhere…right?

“It’s all right,” she says emphatically. He realizes he must have shown some of that in his face. She reaches across to take his hands. “It’s all right,” she repeats.

“But I don’t know what all happened that day. I only know my part. But everything worked out all right…” she says with less certainty than she is projecting, he thinks. “You’re getting better, I’m fine, Lilith is getting better…”

[TreyKincaide]

Shadows grace Paul's face momentarily.

And if it wasn't all right? Would you have told me then?

The mask breaks, "We're going to have a girl?" He grips Gales tightly, "I'm going to be a father? I'm going to be a father!" He leans in and touches his lips to hers. What starts on the couch ends up in the bedroom. Although, not in the best condition, Paul ignores his frailty. Sweet and soft give rise to feral and life affirming ferocity. Wanting. Needing.

Paul lays spent in between the sheets wrapped around his wife drinking in the heady musk. He whispers, "Thank you. Thank you for helping me remember that this flesh isn't a prison of pain." He feels like he should be crying--tears of joy or tears of sorrow--but his eyes are dry.

They linger there for a time until Paul, "Let's clean up, and then step out. I want to show you something." He pulls on a robe, and lets Gale first crack at the shower. He silently collects the dirty morning ware and sets to washing.

I...I saw my own Evil. I felt it. I breathed it. Somehow we walked away, but am I unscathed? I think, perhaps, I've found my Truism--a form of Mesmer's universal equation. Acting on selfish desire at the expense of others is evil. Overcoming one's own selfish desire is therefore Good. Damn it, Lilith, I want to stop wanting you.

Paul takes his turn, and gets dressed, "I'm sure they have a physical therapy room around here somewhere. I guarantee that with a hearty lunch and dinner interspersed with some lifting, that you'll start to recognize this skeleton by the end of the day."

He takes his wife by the hand and stops on the way to the door, "Wait. I'm sorry. That was selfish of me. Being the mother of my child. How do you feel? Are you alright with having kids now? Please, be honest."

[Wired*Nun]

Nothing ruins the wonder of laying with his wife for the first time in...and there is a quality to it that goes beyond love or lost or need, to healing. An itch that is scratched, the joy of a soothed pain, so familiar he isn't always even aware of it. Like blessed silence, loss of a noise that he never knew was there. Whatever he lost, it wasn't all a bad thing.

Thoughts of Lilith break his perfect mood, as the ragged edges of his soul seep and bleed, a scarring healing wound. But at least it's healing.

Gale breaks into a delighted smile at his question. "You know, that's progress. Not just you - we're both too self-absorbed. Thank you for asking. I am fine, everything's fine. I'm only about eight weeks, nothing to even show or bother me. As far as kids...I am...was, on the pill but I'm pregnant anyway. I had to think about it for a while but I realized...I realized I'm okay with it. Before I would have been pissed, but now...I guess I know we'll be all right, and I don't...well, the pressure's off for me to make enough to live on, right? And Lightsource is giving me full maternity leave, very nice of them...we're really lucky. I mean, it could be...you know. To have each other and our material needs taken care of too, you know?" She hugs him close.

[TreyKincaide]

Paul returns the warm embrace, "Yeah." He stares over her shoulder.

There was never any pressure except that you put on yourself. I would have been happy with nothing as long as we were together. Even our relationship is a struggle of altruism versus narcissism.

"I'm...I'm glad that this is what you want." He pulls back and manages a smile, "You haven't told me about how things are at LightSource. Do you like your new job? Why don't you tell me about it on our way to the weight room?"

Paul listens as they walk arm in arm casually across the court yard.

[Wired*Nun]

The radio, playing in the background, now catches Paul's ear...George Harrison's "Here comes the Sun". He wonders if there's some meaning there.

The Sergeant Major said during the training, "No one can put as much pressure on you as you put on yourself." How true.

As they walk down the path to the main building and the fitness center, she tells him about her new position - a mid-level spot in LightSource's marketing department. She has four people on her team, and along with the routine ad layouts, they are working on an eco-focussed radio spot and a TV ad for the Outreach department - that's the charity arm.

"It's really good there...no bad apples at all. I mean, most of the time there is someone that's a jerk, but there are probably...seventy-five people in Marketing, and I can't say I've run into one idiot, jerk or asshole. Do you think it's because...well, it must be. Some kind of special power to weed them out. Man, wouldn't it be great if everyone could do that."

They arrive at the fitness center. It's not crowded at all. A bit deficient in the free weight department...but I won't be working up to Night's level any time soon anyway.

[TreyKincaide]

Paul catches himself biting back a more mundane explanation for LightSource's work ethic. He simply smiles and nods.

If helps her believe, who am I to argue? Seek to understand before being understood.

Paul spends the rest of the morning in self regimented intensive physical therapy while chatting up Gale about her job and the people in her office. He starts off with light cardio and moves into circuit training doing push ups, improvised pull ups, and ab work. Unconcerned with over doing it, Paul trusts in his Gift to flex its metaphysical muscle and Heal his own.

Last time I put on 50 lbs of muscle after massive organ death and being dead for two weeks. Now, I have scars that run long and deep but I have faith that in time they'll fade.

After working up a sweat, he breaks for lunch. He towels off and wanders over to Gale, "I'm famished." They return to the bungalow for a quick shower and change leaving his work out clothes out for afternoon PT. He leaves the decision up to his wife whether to stay in or wander off the compound to get a bite to eat.

Whichever she prefers when the meal is set down before him, "I'm not sure what the plan is now. I didn't finish training, and the team is probably already out on the assignment we were prepping for." Flashes of the several month's past demonic footage color Paul's features with concern, "So until I hear word one way or another I guess you're stuck with me." He winks.

"Why don't we invite your friend, Anna, out to dinner sometime this week if she's in town? I don't know if you've had a chance to break the news to her yet, and even so, I'd like to show her my appreciation for being there when you needed someone to talk to," he grasps Gales hand across the table. "You said before that we were both too self absorbed, and you were right. This time I really want to make the important people in your life important in mine because its our life together."

[Wired*Nun]

About forty minutes into the workout, with little warning, he is hit with a wave of vertigo and cramps. He kneels, then curls up in a ball, pain and weakness shooting through him. Nausea comes too, and a feeling like being kicked in the balls.

One of the nurses rushes over to him, then Gale. There's a bit of a fuss, but it starts easing up after a few minutes. He decides that's enough of a workout for one day.

Feeling wrung out, nevertheless he can stand and walk about. But after lunch sleep is calling to him. Overdid it, I guess.

At lunch, Gale replies, "It would be nice for us to get together. Thanks for being interested. I haven't seen her as much as at first, but that's all right, we're both working full time now. Maybe she can find a date, balance things out. But you might want to call your own boss or whatever, tell him you're up and around or something." She looks uncertainly at him, as if she thinks she might have said something wrong.

[TreyKincaide]

Paul looks down at his unfinished meal and nods, "Maybe you're right. Mesmer's my friend and it's the courteous thing to do." He feels a wave of self doubt wash over him.

Not that I'm any use to him right now. Not like this.

"I think...I think I need to lie down," he says quietly. Paul's somber, introverted, and feeble as he retreats to the bungalow bedroom.

I believed and my Gift and...it... Did the damage to my soul damage my Gift too? Will Gale still love me if I'm no longer her super hero?

He reaches over to the nightstand phone and dials in to LightSource. He leaves a message, "It's Paul Hunting. I'm up and as well as can be expected. I hope the team is doing okay." He drops the phone on the receiver fighting down despair until sleep overtakes the weary wayfarer.

[Wired*Nun]

Gale curls up behind him this time, a mother rather than a lover. The relief he feels is almost tangible, it's so powerful. Lilith...Gale... everybody needs somebody... He fades out to the sound of Brian Adams in the background.

He dreams of gardens and tall ships then, to no reason, and remembers. On the quarterdeck of one of those ships, he faces a man he's never seen before, or perhaps a person. Though he's dressed as a man, as a sailing master, there's something androgynous and inhuman about the figure he faces.

Animals have the tiniest of sparks...mortals, more, but still almost everyone lives in the physical. The gods - those who you call messengers, angels, fallen ones, demons - are mostly spiritual, with different physical gifts. Nephilim are the first truly balanced beings, combining the best of Spirit with the best of Body. But Gifts are attributes of the Spirit...and the Spirit is master of the Body, always.

[TreyKincaide]

Paul surveys the dreamscape he gets the hunch is less dream than scape settling his 'vision' on the man that may not be a man. He thinks rather than speaks.

Thus even though I had faith in my ability, my wounded spirit limits Healing. I had suspected as much, but thank you. Are you Nephilim or god? Altruist or Sider?

[Wired*Nun]

I am the bringer of knowledge. I am the god if this world. There is none higher that walks the Earth. I am the greatest of them all; I made the Nephilim, long ago, in the before time. That of my making is connected, down the ages, to you.

The sea grows rough around them then, but the ship sails smooth. The wind rises, but the ship maintains its stability.

[TreyKincaide]

Paul's metaphysical eyes widen as his mind whirls in question. Prometheus? There are many names for the bringer of fire.

Then I am honored Messenger or god, as you please. For while I am slowly realizing wisdom and knowledge aren't necessarily the same, I have passion for learning.

While there is much I would ask you, please share as you will and tell me why you have brought me here to this place.

[Wired*Nun]

I am no Messenger, I am the message. All the Nephilim are as my children, but children must be allowed to make their own mistakes. Still, as the shepherd will leave the ninety-nine to find the one lost sheep, so I know your pain and address your need. I heard your cry of anguish. What secret knowledge would you have?

Paul senses a hint of gentle amusement within the concern and compassion.

[TreyKincaide]

Paul ponders the god's question, Only that which is offered for I now accept there are some things I am not meant to know or costs more than I'm willing to part.

He looks out over the rocky sea, Like most children I suppose I must ask 'why?'

[Wired*Nun]

Because? Life is to be lived, knowledge is to be known, gods are to be gods, choices must be chosen. Why you? Chance of the universe. I set in motion a perfect number, ten times ten times ten times twelve times twelve.

He holds up a hand, which Paul now notices has six fingers.

They were to be the bringers of light to the darkened and squalid race of mortal humanity...they were to be an improvement. But as time went by, they took on the characteristics of the mortals, and fell to squabbling among themselves, and rebelled against me and those I had set over them, and they grieved me greatly.

So that is who you are...that is your legacy. The why is perhaps...why not?

[TreyKincaide]

Paul chews on that and nods satisfied with the answer, I have seen my own base self. Naked and raw. Somewhere I know the source of my...and all suffering is rooted in selfish desire. The doubt is my own and I own up to it.

If the Spirit governs all, then why are the Naked unclothed? Is there some facet of their Being that accepts their condition? Would Lilith have Returned whole without my interceding? Was the choice I made to help her a reflection of my own overriding need to matter, to do something important and thereby tainted? Am I a selfish martyr?

I accept the Gift you have bestowed carries with it the responsibility of sparing the hurt of others in their place. I forget to remember that I chose to bear that responsibility. What is Given is given when needed if needed.

Paul pauses in his meandering thought to 'breath' in the salty ocean air. He exhales slowly gazing at the denizen of dreaming. At first I saw Healing as a refinement of that inherent in all Nephilim, and then I accepted it as a greater means to help the Naked. How may I use my Gift for what I believe it was intended without losing my identity, my sense of self, what makes me...me?

He lifts up his chin, What must I know? What do I need? Those are the best of questions, because in the end the learning is as important as the knowing. Choices are to be made, but what choice is there when given the answer? Mortal characteristics of hope, compassion, and empathy make us better than we are. The farther we move away from being human, the less we see their suffering. Do I really need more? How do I Heal my broken Spirit?

[Wired*Nun]

Mortals of weak spirit are still mortals. Gods of weak flesh are still gods. But Nephilim, like mortals, are incomplete without flesh, and lose their...cohesion. The must be re-absorbed into the great Well of Life, or they wander, only half there...such as my lovely daughter Lilith. Those like her, of great strength, may hang on without flesh. But she hadn't the power or the wit, after all that time, to have forced herself on anyone, even if she would have. Never fear, you did a great and noble thing.


How may I use my Gift for what I believe it was intended without losing my identity, my sense of self, what makes me...me?



If you wish to host others within your flesh. you must develop your sense of self - what Freud called the 'ego' - to the point that your spirits remain separate - so that you can contain them without merging with them. You are where you must be, to learn to do this. To grow in strength, that you may set things right.

Your spirit is not broken, merely wounded. It is healing rapidly. You are a strong, proud son of mine. Every warrior suffers wounds; your scars will be all the more honorable.

And it is what you do with the answers that matters.

[TreyKincaide]

Freud? Okay, Didn't expect a god or angel to point to cocaine induced 'psychology.' Even if this is all a dream, so far it's making sense. Still, Mesmer said that I'm going to be a beacon for possession. Either this Being is here to help me or use me. If he wishes to use me or take my body, I suspect he would have done so by now, if he--it--hasn't already.

Paul nods, Would you please teach me how to develop my ego so that I may set right where once went wrong?

[Wired*Nun]

The teaching has already begun. I will visit you from time to time. For now, you are where you need to be. Learn from those around you. My son is wise, if wayward and willful.

He wakes then. The clock says 5:32 pm, and the afternoon sun still streams into the living area, seen through the bedroom door. Everything is quiet, except for the drone of a lawnmower far away. Dust dances in the shaft of sunlight, and the pillow smells like flowers. His left arm is asleep but he feels too good to move very much.

[TreyKincaide]

Paul lays there as the sleep fades from his eyes.

Was it just a dream? Even so, I feel better now. Here with Gale is where I need to be.

Paul lays soaking up the evening's warmth almost smelling the scent of freshly cut grass. He'll roll over on his back and stare at the ceiling unwilling to get out of bed. As his arms slowly wakens details of the strange ethereal entity fade to the stinging recirculation of blood into his limb.

Stirring into consciousness, Paul shifts his head and watches Gale sleep and smiles. After a few minutes of watching the rise and fall of her chest, he takes care to slowly rise without disturbing her. Paul slips off of his shirt and goes to the kitchen. Minutes later, he's whipping up some dinner for them both. If Gale's still not up by the time he's done, he'll bring it to her in bed.

As she stirs, "I'm sorry. I'm...better now, or I think I am. Wounds to the soul causes trauma to the psyche and so I'm more emotionally vulnerable than I was before. Gifts are attributes of the Spirit and will Heal slowly, but I didn't understand that before. I was afraid that...that my Gift was gone forever," and his voice lowers, "and that I would be lessened in your eyes."

"You've taken care of me for the last four weeks and kept hope when no one else would. I should have realized that you wouldn't give up on me now, but...I wasn't thinking straight. No straighter than when I thrashed out with my Spirit here a month ago."

"Thank you."

[Wired*Nun]

Gale looks at him from the covers, her arms behind her head. Hard to say what she's thinking, but she smiles, and that makes it all better. "I know who you are, Paul. I just don't know who I am. I know you'll make it through. You've always been a survivor. I'm trying to live up to you, that's all. So it's okay if you need some time. Nobody's invincible, not even you."

She rolls out of bed, looking delicious in the very little she wore to nap. He feels a surge of desire, which he takes to be a good sign. Sometimes I feel like a teenager again...can't say that's all bad. She throws on a nightgown and sits down to dinner. She shakes way too much salt on her plate.

"Want to go to a movie or something? Get out of the enclave, act like normal people? Maybe tomorrow go out to see the house..."

[TreyKincaide]

"Sounds like a plan," Paul smiles. "I'm looking forward to seeing it after all the work you've done. Maybe while we're out tonight we can do some shopping. No point making all this green if we can't spoil ourselves now and then. Should probably pick me up some more clothes now that I think about it."

When they finish eating, Paul clears the dishes while Gale gets dressed. After she's finished, he puts on something casual and a jacket. It takes a bit of searching, but he finds his pistol hidden on the top shelf of the bungalow closet. He debates for a moment, but straps it on before meeting Gale at the door.

You never know, and right now I'm at my most vulnerable. It'll have to do in case something happens.

Paul puts his arm around Gale's shoulder as they step out into the night.

[Wired*Nun]

Properly packed and feeling human, he gets in a newish Acura that Gale has the keys to.

"I bought cash it with some of the homeowner's insurance money...it's a 2006, about fifteen thousand miles. Might regret it at the other end, but I figure between us we can come up with the cash or a loan to finish up the new place..." She looks sideways up at him, getting that calculating look she got when running numbers and making plans. "I'm trying not to be extravagant, but I want it to be nice for the baby and us, and I'm having to go over there and fight with the damn contractor every other day about one thing or another, doing something right, using organics instead of chemicals...do you know how dangerous a brand-new house is to a developing baby? Formaldahyde, toluene, paint solvents, antifungals, all sealed up tight for energy efficiency...I'm sorry, I'm blathering on."

She whips the Acura crisply down the winding drive out into the Baltimore suburbs. "If you want everything all in one place, we might as well go to Macy's at the mall. I got the magic plastic, ten percent off everything. Anything we can't find there, we have the rest of the mall."

[TreyKincaide]

"It's cool. You needed something to get around." Paul rolls the window down and feels the wind rush over his hand as he airplanes it up and down. "Unless you traded it in, I can just use the old car until I get something from LightSource."

Plans within plans. Gale's means of fighting for control when she really has none. Probably would have irritated me before, but I get it now. Besides, I don't really care about money anymore.

He nods as she goes on her near rant, "Yeah, that sucks. New job, my coma, and this on top. I know that I wouldn't have been able to handle it as well. You're really amazing. I should tell you that more.

"Macy's it is," he drums his fingers on the roof as neon lights glare by. His mind wanders to six fingered beings and half remembered dreams. The parking lot leads to the mall shopping Mecca. The couple wanders, shops, and charges it all to the miraculous card. Any furniture they chose gets scheduled for delivery, and the two no so newlyweds stroll down mall strip. Paul stops and gets them both a Pretzle and they stare through the glass of store after store ducking in for a purchase if something catches their eye.

[Wired*Nun]

"Umm yeah, I traded mine in...sorry. What happened to yours?"

He nods as she goes on her near rant, "Yeah, that sucks. New job, my coma, and this on top. I know that I wouldn't have been able to handle it as well. You're really amazing. I should tell you that more.

Her smile nearly blinds him. "I am, aren't I?" She laughs, haha!, mocking herself. "Now we're both amazing. Shazam!" She reaches over with her left hand to bump his ring to hers. "We're the dynamic duo. No, that one's taken. The Terrific Two? The Penultimate Pair?"

In the mall it's a blur of commercialism. He goes with the flow, enjoying her shopping-as-an-activity, if only because it's with her. Still, it gets to be a strain, the superficiality of everything around, the meaninglessness of buying and selling as a national sport. He's relieved when they finally get everything they came for, more or less. Mostly a new wardrobe for himself, this and that for her.

He does notice a new trend in Gale's buying habits. Whereas before she might have bought three mid-quality items, she seems more selective now, though what she buys is pricey. Maybe she's buying less quantity and more quality...maybe her attitude has changed about some things. The changes with me, the loss of the house...

Eventually they plop down on a sofa near the toddler-play area with their pretzels. Gale puts mustard on hers, like most everything. She looks at the children, rubbing her stomach absently as she munches.

[TreyKincaide]

"I had to sell it over a year to pay for...stuff."

Legal Fees for a divorce.

He hides his memories of the separation and financial woes behind an innocent smile. Water under the bridge, "Baltimore's public transportation is greatly underrated. No worries. I'll just get one of those custom jobs from LightSource. Probably safer anyway."

Paul sits munching and says with a laugh, "I will never get your fetish for mustard." He blechs, "Could be worse, I suppose. You could be addicted to mayonnaise."

Paul sits, finishes his snack, and waits until Gale signals she's ready to go, "Let's stop, pick up some movies and some popcorn, and finish the evening out tangled on the couch." He drapes an arm around her as they wall out.

[Wired*Nun]

It's a perfect, ordinary evening, but as they walk out of the mall, Paul feels like someone is watching. He looks around, but can't spot anything. Still, he maintains high alert while hiding it from the oblivious Gale.

Nothing manifests itself between then until they get in the car. I wish I had Lilith's ability to see the bundles of fates...

[TreyKincaide]

Paul stretches hiding his unease, "I know this is your new toy, but would you mind if I drive to the movie store? I've kinda missed it," he adds lamely.

I've scared Gale before by being 'jumpy.' I don't want to ruin our otherwise perfectly ordinary evening.

He playfully whines until Gale throws him her keys. "I'll even put the seat back afterwards," he quips as he adjusts for his height and checks the mirrors.

Remember when I 'felt' how to drive by fate. That wasn't Lilith, that was me. Maybe I can do it again. Maybe she left more behind of herself than I thought.

Paul slides into reverse and backs out.

Or maybe I'm just scared, and looking for Lilith to be a security blanket.

[Wired*Nun]

"It has a one-touch setting," she pouts playfully. "You just want to drive the new toy." She reaches over to put her hand on his thigh, all she can really do in bucket seats.

Maybe she left more behind of herself than I thought. That idea echoes through his head again. "None of us can fly." "I'm not so sure..." muses Ash. "We might be able to. Perhaps we have not yet had the necessity."

He drives the Acura out of the parking lot into traffic, looking for the Blockbuster he saw on the way in. He hopes his membership is still good.

[TreyKincaide]

Gifts may or may not be consistent, or reliable. They are fuelled by faith, confidence, and the will. They interact with other gifts in unpredictable ways. Mesmer said that.

I should stifle my doubt. When my Spirit has healed and my will is honed there's no telling what I may or may not be able to do.

Paul drums his fingers on the steering wheel and whistles, "This is a nice ride, and it handles well."

On a lark, he clears his head and tries to 'feel' his way to his destination. When he takes a wrong turn, Gale speaks up. Paul sheepishly mutters, "Oh, right. I was thinking it was closer to 3rd."

Paul corrects and soon the couple walks the aisles browsing the plethora of new releases. Having been out of the viewing loop for quite some time Paul defaults to Gale's tastes. She rambles as they browse on the merits and flaws of most of the scifi and horror titles she's scene. Although she doesn't particularly care for Westerns she snatches '3:10 to Yuma' and coos, "Doesn't matter. They're both hot. Eye candy baby. And you'll like it as long as you don't start looking for historic inaccuracies." She punches Paul playfully in the shoulder.

"Yeah, I've ruined several movies that way, haven't I?" Paul responds in mock remorse. "Not my fault they didn't pay attention to detail, but I'll promise that I'll try my best not to pick it apart. Hopefully, it'll be as good as the original."

They walk some more and finally Gale over comes her indecision and settles on grabbing, 'The Eye.' She explains, "Yeah, there's just not much scifi/fantasy out right now that's any good or not for kids. There's been a lot of stuff at the box office. So, we'll have to catch the late release showings or wait." She grumbles as they walk up to the register and Paul snags popcorn and Milkduds before they pay.

Paul hands Gale the keys, takes the movies, and reaches over to put his hand on her thigh, all he can really do in bucket seats as they set out for their interim home.

[Wired*Nun]

Paul think about the scene on the helicopter where he heard Ash say those words...then blinks, internally and externally. What helicopter? I didn't ride any helicopter except with Mesmer. He shakes his head with confusion at the false memory - but it seems so real. Someone else's memory? Anything's possible...

ARS' Spooky comes on the radio then...Love is kinda crazy with a spooky little girl like you...

Driving "home," Paul sees a flash of green go by in a car opposite. Then another. He tries to identify the source of the color but can't, but he keeps seeing them - faint, out of the corner of his eye, gone before he's sure - like fireflies in the woods on a hot Alabama night.

He's relieved when they turn into the gated, guarded Stillewald...until he sees that flash of green at the guardhouse. It's starting to worry him.

[TreyKincaide]

Mesmer did muck with Lilith during our ride. Maybe this is bleed over.
Or maybe he mucked a bit with me too? He's subtle enough to implant memories to surface when or if I need them. I should talk to Ash to find out whether that helicopter ride actually happened.

Paul jumps when Gale complains, "Ow, a little too tight. That hurts."

Paul blinks and relaxes his grip on her leg. "Sorry. The glare from the lights is messing with me, I think." He rubs his eyes, "I'm starting to see things. Could be that experimenting we did as kids catching up to me. I'll feel better when we're inside."

Play it cool.

As the Acura rolls to a stop in front of the gate, Paul peers past Gale trying to get a better view of the guard checking their id, "You pulling single duty tonight?"

[Wired*Nun]

The guard just raises his eyebrows to Paul's question. "Thank you, sir. Ma'am." He hands their IDs back to them.

He seems alert, normal for a mortal in his position. There is a faint green...something pulsing slightly near his solar plexus. It's hard to see, and fades even as Paul focuses on it.

"Something else?" he asks pleasantly.

[TreyKincaide]

"No, sorry. Have a good evening," he responds and notes the guard's name and badge number as they're motioned through. Gale parks the car in front of their suite and Paul digs for his phone, "Okay, I just saw something weird enough to mention to Joan. Either I really saw it, or I could use an MRI."

As they enter the cottage Paul dials. If Joan answers he exchanges pleasantries and describes the green flashes of light he keeps seeing mentioning in detail the guard. "Yeah, I don't know if I'm really seeing things or need checked out," he finishes as he throws popcorn in the microwave.

[Wired*Nun]

Dr. Spann listens to his concerns, then replies, "If there was some organic reason, the manifestations wouldn't be linked to something specific - like people. You would be seeing green flashes everywhere. This argues for the issue being either psychological - or actual. Have you seen the same thing in Gale?"

He looks, and, just for a moment, sees the green glow before it fades. He confirms it to Spann.

"It could be an aftereffect of all you've been through. Spiritual trauma has been known to radically alter Gifts, or even confer new ones. I would say that, for the moment, observe carefully and report to me when you can, especially if anything changes."

[TreyKincaide]

"Will do. Thanks Joan. For everything," he flips the cell closed. Paul slips it in his pocket and searches for a large bowl. Popcorn and soda in hand, he lounges next to Gale on the couch, "Joan just told me to keep an eye out and phone if something changes."

He drapes an arm over her lap, "Love you." Lights dim, the dvd spins, and the evening passes. Paul catches himself glancing down at Gale's abdomen looking for green.

[Wired*Nun]

He sees the green, on and off. He finds that if he looks out of the corner of his eye he can see it better, and longer. New mental muscles, it seems.

A memory resurfaces...

****************************************

Paul!

Go away.

Paul! I love you!

Who cares...I am empty.

Come back!

Nothing here but emptiness. He feels as if his guts have been spilled on the floor. He is void, and nothing will fill it.

Paul! I need you! I! NEED! YOU!

******************************************

It occurs to him to look down at himself...where he sees a bright blue blazing in the center of his body. Chakra...Kundalini...what do the yogis call it? The center of power. He struggles to recall something about power from the middle of the body. Or chi, ki, like Ash talked about in the unarmed combat classes.

[TreyKincaide]

The tan tien. Interesting. That likely means that I'll see Joan as light pink, Mesmer as red, and Lilith as hot pink as I 'saw' them in the Mesmer's mindscape. Not sure what the colors mean, but I get it now. It's the connection to their Spirit and the fount of their Gifts.

Green seems to indicate mortal, and it's difficult to see because the Spirit is much weaker than Nyphilim.

Paul smiles, "I figured it out. I'm seeing people as colors like in Mesmer's mind trance." he explains to Gale. "Don't know what it means yet beyond being able to distinguish Neph from human, but it seems my Gift is developing which means I'm much better than I was this morning."

[Wired*Nun]

"That's nice." She is apparently getting sleepy. She drifts in and out as the movie drones on, and he has a hard time caring about fake tension and imaginary adventure. He's almost relieved when it finishes.

He lifts Gale easily into bed, finding that he's very sleepy himself.

It was a good day.

He wakes in the middle of the night, unsure why. Something is amiss.

Gale is gone.

Heart thudding, he does a rapid search of the cottage. Nothing.

The front door is unlocked, and he pullls on jeans and steps out onto the front porch. He sees Gale walking calmly across the sward, heading for the cove beach.

[TreyKincaide]

As his heart thunders in his ears he dashes afterwards.

Is she sleepwalking? If so, I'll have to guide her gently back to bed. I've heard it's bad to startle someone in a trance. I hope this isn't because of the green light I saw earlier.

As he sprints towards her, he finds himself wishing that he hadn't left his phone on the nightstand.

Spann would know what to do.

He slows down as nears her matching pace, "Gale, honey? Are you alright." He keeps his voice calm despite the worry that hangs in his throat coated with the bile in his stomach. He takes her gently by the hand, "Come. Let's go back to bed."

[Wired*Nun]

She ignores him at first, then shakes off his hand. She looks like she is sleepwalking, trancelike, but her eyes are wide open.

He hears something else, footsteps - he turns around, and witnesses a very strange sight. Most, if not all, of the patients and staff of Stillewald are walking toward the couple. Calmly, without hurry or concern. Like Invasion of the Body Snatchers or something.

He sees the guards among them, too. With weapons.

There's a faint, crimson glow from each of them, too, an unhealthy thing that frightens him in a way that he hasn't been since that night with Drexel. He looks at Gale, then, and sees it too.

Sees, still deep within her abdomen, the tiny green spark that is his daughter.

[TreyKincaide]

They're all possessed. Shit. Shit. Shit. Fuck what am I going to do? Too many to fight off, and I don't want to hurt innocent people anyway. I need to incapacitate Gale, and get her away from here. Then find some help.

Paul snatches his wife in a restraining hold and tries to drag her towards the parking lot.

Whatever is doing this must be spreading itself thin. Quantity over quality so to speak.

As she resists, he envisions his blue center of being blasting outwards to engulf his wife driving out the faint crimson glow of manipulation.

[Wired*Nun]

He picks her up easily. She doesn't resist, but she's wooden as a board.

As he jogs around the mass of people, trying to stay away from them, he tries to put into practice what he remembers of the mental space, envisioning a technique which may or may not have anything to do with reality.

She immediately starts thrashing, and the mass of humanity alters course, from heading toward the freshwater beach, to heading straight for him...and walking faster.

[TreyKincaide]

Paul immediately stops whatever it was he was managing to do as the mob sets his sights on him.

Shit. I sure got something's attention. At least they aren't about to drown themselves like lemmings. Need to keep a hold of Gale. Hope I don't hurt her or the baby. I need to get away from here, but is anywhere safe? Is help coming?

Paul tightens his grip on his wife and looks for a way out. Somewhere. Anywhere. Failing that, he'll try to find the most advantageous position to bottleneck the mob and stand his ground.

[Wired*Nun]

If he runs fast enough, he should be able to either get away or get around the mob. They don't seem to be displaying much intelligence right now. He could run to the beach then along it. He hasn't explored it but where fences meet water there's usually a way around. Or, he could run around the mob and hope to reach an automobile, though he's pretty sure neither he nor Gale has keys on them. Or, he could try to get to the gate house and release the front gate, to escape that way. He could run to the fence, throw Gale over and climb over himself.

At least she's stopped struggling now that he's not trying to expand his spirit to combat the redness.

[TreyKincaide]

Rationality replaces Paul's receding tide of panic as Gale calms down.

For now they're not trying to hurt me, Gale, or anyone else. Whatever is doing this has a stronger grip on them than I figured. One ripple turned them all on to me. I've seen Evil in myself, and now I know the Evil that Mesmer explained.

Paul glances around furtively.

There must be some purpose behind this, and I'll only find out what that is by following. Either I'll be taken to the Source or an objective. Hopefully, I'll find help along the way. Can't leave Gale behind as much as I hate to. The only way I can protect her is to stay near.

Paul shakes his head unhappy with the alternatives. Beach it is.

If I need a weapon, I'll take one of theirs. If it turns ugly, I'll save as many as I can guarding Gale.

[Wired*Nun]

He dashes down to the beach, half-carrying Gale. She's stopped struggling, seeming catatonic. He stays ahead of the mob, and runs along to the left.

Left is civilization, right is the river mouth.

A hunded yards down, he finds the fenceline. It's easy enough to wade around it waist-deep in water, then back onto the beach on the other side. That peters out after another fifty yards to light woods. He sees lights beyond, and another fifty yards brings him to a road. There's a gas station down a block and across the street. Warehouses loom behind.

He can hear the mob working its way through the woods behind him, slowly, but inexorably.

[TreyKincaide]

Cold, wet, and barefoot his feet pound the concrete.

If I can get to the gas station, I might be able to find a car with the keys in the ignition. Worse comes to worse I can fight someone for their keys. If I can get to a phone, I can get a hold of someone. I hope there's someone left to get a hold of.

Paul stops messing around and hefts Gale over one shoulder and dashes across the street and down the block.

I won't get tired. Not like earlier. I need not to get tired.

[Wired*Nun]

There's a guy in an old Ford pickup truck getting gas. It used to be red, now it's just rusty. He's dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, shit-kickers and a battered cowboy hat. The clerk sits behind a bulletproof window. Both look at him curiously as he runs up with a woman over his shoulder.

"Hey, buddy, you guys all right?" calls the man.

[TreyKincaide]

"No, there's something wrong with my wife. It's like she's sleep walking or something, but won't wake up. Had to fish her out of the water," Paul approaches exaggerating a bit of ragged breathing for the two men's benefit.

"Had to dash out so fast, I didn't even have time to properly dress. Lemme use the phone real quick to call an ambulance," Paul eases his vision to try to pick up the tell-tale red influence.

[Wired*Nun]

No red that he can see, just the green glow of normalcy, and these guys seem to be acting right, more or less. The clerk picks up the phone, says though the speaker, "I'll have to call. I can't let you in."

The man with the truck says "I got a cell phone, but she's callin' 911 I guess." He looks around, then opens the passenger door to his pickup cab. "You wanna put her in here?"

[TreyKincaide]

He nods his head thankfully.

"You mind if I use your cell?" Paul asks after looking curiously at the pick-up man. Just because he wasn't altered didn't mean he was what he appeared to be--humans can be shitty all on their own. "You see, she's pregnant, and I need to call her doctor," Paul watches the guy for a moment and sits Gale in the cab facing out with the door open. He holds her legs and glances over his shoulder the way he came.

[Wired*Nun]

"Here." He hands it to Paul, wiping his hands on his shirt and watching curiously. He doesn't seem to be any threat.

Cell phone in hand, he looks at the woods across and down the road to see the mob beginning to emerge. The people head right for him...and Gale.

[TreyKincaide]

Paul quickly dials Spann, "Joan! Please oh please, pick up," he mentions as he glances nervously at the mob.

As it rings, "Uh, look mister. Strange as this sounds, we need to go. Now." He points to the group, "See them? They've got guns, and they're heading this way."

"Hey attendant," he yells. "You'll either want to come with us or hide. Those people don't look friendly."

[Wired*Nun]

The phone clicks over the Spann's voice mail after five rings. The cowboy raaches over to take it back when Paul takes it off his ear. He takes a long look at the mob. "Yeah...yeah, this don't look good. Justine! Justine! Oh, dammit, she ain't gonna close up, she's stubborn as a mule. Lock up, Justine! We're headin' to the hospital! Or cops, or something'." He mutters this last.

"Get in!"

He hops in the drivers' side, helping to pull the semicatatonic Gale over between them on the bench seat. The lights of the station's interior wink out as the driver makes a quick 180 and gets them out just ahead of the mob. A minute later, they're several blocks and corners away.

"All right, mister, now what the hell was that all about?"

[TreyKincaide]

"Wish I could tell you," Paul sighs as the mob fades from sight. "My wife and I were staying at Stillewald. I was finishing up physical therapy.

"I wake up to find Gale gone, and when I went outside to find her she was like this. Then I saw the mob. All the guards, patients, and staff. It's like a bad horror movie, ya know?"

"Would you dig out you phone and let me use it again?"

Providing the older man accepts the answer and returns his phone Paul tries to phone into LightSource. Failing that, he'll call the Baltimore police department.

[Wired*Nun]

It seems like the lines are all jammed. He gets out-of-service messages, busy signals, or the call just drops. It's hopeless.

They pass emergency vehicles, and a lot of people are out on the street. The town has the air of calamity and riot. They turn down the access road to the hospital and it's jammed with cars. Many of them have been abandoned, and others are walking patients in past the crush. The cowboy back quickly out before he can get trapped too. He pulls over to the curb around the corner

"Looks like some powerful trouble happenin', yessir. What's yer name, anyway? I'm Roy." He sticks his hand out crossways for a shake.

"I'm thinkin' I'd like to get outta town. Got a full tank and I'd rather be home outside the city than part of whatever's happenin' - if you need to bring yer wife in to the hospital, I understand, but you kin come with me, if you want. There's a doc in my town, if she needs seein' to."

[TreyKincaide]

This is madness.

"Paul Hunting," he replies and accepts the shake. He takes in the chaos in the streets, "Yeah, I don't think here's where I should be. Can't get ahold of any friends or family near DC, either. Hospital's overloaded, and it'd probably be just as quick to have Gale looked over when we get out of town.

"Let's flip a U before we get blocked in," Paul stares out the window feeling helpless as they drive.

[Wired*Nun]

"Oh, I don't aim to be blocked in, sure." He pulls out, maneuvering through the traffic with the expertise of a small-time dirt-track racer.

He has to double back a couple of times, but a half-hour later they are breaking out of the cuty and into the suburbs, heading west. "I'm gonna stay off 70, that's askin' fer it." True to his word, he holds to the state highways. They pass police and fire activity, and one checkpoint where they get waved through without incident.

The radio news is confused. The Governor of West Virginia has declared a state of emergency and curfew, citing widespread effects of an unknown contaminant. Maryland has alerted all first responders and is considering a curfew, as is Pennsylvania. The District is relatively quiet, and Virginia is reported to be little-affected at the moment.

Gale stares out the windshield, licking her lips and humming tunelessly to herself from time to time.

[TreyKincaide]

As they drive Paul makes some chitchat.

Can't try to drive out the possession again while we're in the car. She'll start thrashing.

He stares glumly out the window.

I should be able to do something, but I feel so helpless. I hope it's going well for the rest.

[Wired*Nun]

James Taylor's cover of Carole King's "You've got a Friend" comes on the radio. The lyric gets his attention.

You just call out my name
and you know wherever I am
I'll come running
to see you again

Winter, spring summer or fall
all you got to do is call
and I'll be there, yes I will,
You've got a friend.



Isn't anyone looking for me?

[TreyKincaide]

They probably got their hands full and trust that I know enough to keep my head down. Still...

Paul continues to look out the window but closes his eyes. He imagines reaching out from his blue center searching for red and pink.

Mesmer. Lilith.

After a few moments Paul shrugs feeling a bit silly.

Wouldn't be smart to flare up again and grab another mob's attention. It'd be nice to have Lilith's Gift right now. I could just 'put' someone in my path.

[Wired*Nun]

The road suddenly backs up as they come over a hill. They can see flashing lights and a line of cars that's not moving. There are people walking backward, animatedly waving their hands and yelling something, coming down the line of cars toward them. Roy stops back a bit, with enough space to turn around,

The people don't seem zombiefied. They seem to be trying to communicate to the people in the cars, some of whom have stepped out and are milling around.

Once they have stopped, Gail whimpers and makes slow, weak attempts to get out of the truck. Paul is easily able to keep her under control.

"Whattaya think?" asks Roy.

[TreyKincaide]

"I think we're blocked. Something's nearby causing this response. Gale's been catatonic and now she's animated. I want to know why."

He runs a hand through his hair, "Angle the truck so we don't get trapped, but we should hop out and see what's going on. See if some of those folks need a ride in the back."

Paul waits and then hops out. He restrains Gale and tries to figure out what's going on. He'll approach some people backing up, "Hey, what's going on here?"

[Wired*Nun]

Roy turns the truck around to face the other direction, on the opposite shoulder.

Paul hangs on to Gail while he asks the nearest man in the oncoming gaggle. "Cops are going crazy, man. Shooting everyone that gets near the roadblock. Something about contamination and quarantine. I think they freaked out. Nobody here is sick, see?" He waves around at the people walking by, a couple of them lightly wounded.

Several more folks accrete around the conversation, as they seem safely away from any paranoid police.

[TreyKincaide]

"Crap," Paul glances at the assembled crowd. "We just came from the City. There's some whacked out shit going on, and it seems we've stumbled on to more."

Makes sense that the powers that be would rationalize it away as illness. The way that Gail reacted makes me wonder if the groups aren't being migrated somewhere. If so, then the police trigger fingres aren't so itchy.

This thing is feeding on chaos and murder.

"There anyone badly hurt that needs help?" He nods over at Roy, "We're not getting out this way. I bet the rest of the major highways are sealed up too. Unless you know of any back roads, people best find a hidey hole to stick their heads in 'til this blows over."

If this blows over. I need to keep heading west. That's where this thing is pulling which means that's where my friends will be too.

[Wired*Nun]

"I know every road 'round here." He grunts. "An' we got two choices - help the wounded, or try to get through. Ain't gonna be good to put wounded in the bed and jounce 'em all over the dirt roads I'll be drivin' on. Now mebbe I'm selfish, but I bet there are doctors and whatall in this mess, and they can go back to Winchester for the hospital. We're headin in to the Appalachians, brother, where the best you'll get is a country doc or a small clinic in a town."

[TreyKincaide]

Paul's eyes scan the crowd. He stares past them to the unknowable Evil in the west.

There's something off about Roy. I can't put my finger on it yet, but he's intent on getting there. It's also strange that I haven't had his acquaintance long, but he's thinking in terms of 'we.' I wonder how if this is how Fate works. Could also be an subconscious evolutionary aspect where humans are conditioned to be helpful to Neph in times of supernatural crisis. Like how the crowd just assembled around me, but that could be my training exuding leadership. Worst case scenario Roy could be batting for the opposing team. I guess I'll deal with that if I have to later.

He slowly nods, "You're right. It's more important to press on than stay here. Let's pack up and head out." Paul disengages himself from group and places Gale back in the truck. He resumes his silence as the trio bounces along on gravel and dirt back roads winding their way closer to whatever's pulling people to the west.

[Wired*Nun]

Roy drives back down the road a half a mile, then turns north onto a small state road. At least it's paved. He navigates the next miles through small roads, cut-throughs and gravel county roads, high beams on.

As long as they're moving west, Gale seems content. Whenever they turn away, she gets restless and whiny, like an infant who can't communicate in words.

(((have to pause to synch timelines)))

[Wired*Nun]

Listening to the radio news that they can, Paul and Roy glean the following:

There are major disruptions in cities stretching from the mid-Atlantic states to Ohio and Indiana. There are also some sketchy reports of similar things happening in other heavily-populated countries - India, China, Indonesia, parts of Europe including Rome, Berlin, Paris, and London. The UN is meeting in emergency session, and the President of the US just declared a state of emergency for everything east of the Mississippi. There are reports that martial law and suspension of Posse Comitatus is being considered. National Guard troops are being called out by state, though they haven't yet been nationalized. The many areas are under curfew, and affected citizens are being arrested. The media reports incidents of shooting, looting and rioting. Nothing is mentioned of official panic or overreaction. There is lots of speculation on the cause. Some new virus is the conventional wisdom.

[TreyKincaide]

"Sounds pretty bad," Paul mutters grimly as the report ends. He curses to himself as the truck hits a bump knocking his head on the top of the cabin. He rubs his forehead before rolling down the window and propping his hand on the frame.

"I never thanked you Roy. I appreciate your help. I'm a bit surprised that you're going to such efforts to get us to the mountains..."

[Wired*Nun]

"Back to my home an' fam'ly, Paul. Not like wife and kids fam'ly. My kin. We get back there, we'll do all right for a long while, let this all blow over. We still eat squirrel and coon and can our own veg'tables where I'm from. Reg'lar hillbillies. 'Course, I got satellite TV an' internet, too. Best 'a both worlds."

Almost too good to be true. There was something somebody once said on Star Trek or something..."I believe in coincidence. I just don't TRUST coincidence..." Or Fate? Or the...person in my dreams? Something must be working in our favor.

[TreyKincaide]

Paul nods and grins, "Yeah. I guess it is at that." He stares off into the west imagining his friends reliving a Resident Evil nightmare and hoping they would be okay.

[Wired*Nun]

Another hard few hours, and the sun is well up when they finally arrive somehwere. Somewhere turns out to be a battered gas station with a faded Union 76 sign and an old man in coveralls sitting on a battered bench by the door. He stands, shuffling over to the truck. "Fill 'er up?" he says?

"Yeah," replies Roy. "Gettin' almost empty."

Roy hops out, and heads around the side of the small building, presumably for the toilet. Gale is blissfully asleep, though she starts making little moaning sounds the longer they sit. The old man, pumping their gas, seems to be oblivious.

Roy comes back around, zipping up. "Can's around the side. Go on, I'll keep an eye on things." He takes a look at the old man, then goes over to a battered soda machine and starts feeding it coins.

[TreyKincaide]

Paul's eyes flick to his comatose wife and then to Roy's back.

I did only meet you today. If you try anything funny, I will hunt you to the ends of the Earth.

Hesitation aside, Paul's bladder has the final say. He makes use of the can. Without dallying he runs his hands under the water and heads back to the truck.

He remains standing outside the cabin stretching until Roy's ready to go.

[Wired*Nun]

Unfortunately, Roy's already gone.

And the truck.

And Gale.

The old man is at the soda machine, where he pulls out a Coke, turning to Paul. "Yer friend left his Coke. You want it?"

[TreyKincaide]

"Yeah, I do. I'm going to need to take your car too," Paul's features wax and wane rage and sadness. "That man just kidnapped my wife. I aim to catch up to him and make him sorry.

"You'll be reimbursed by Lightsource, Inc. Call and tell them that you helped Paul Hunting out."

Paul spits out the number, "I'm sorry, but I will catch up to my wife. Keep your head. There are crazies about."

[Wired*Nun]

The old man hands him the glass bottle. "Ain't got no car. Got that there Bronco, though." Paul sees a battered, late-70's Ford Bronco 4x4 parked on the side opposite the toilet.

The man hands him the keychain, with an oval FORD emblem probably as old as the car. "Don't worry none about all that reimbursement. The dead Injun told me to give it to you if you asked. Said to tell you not to try to follow the man. Just go to Green Mountain. He don't know what he's got."

[TreyKincaide]

"The dead Injun?" Paul blinks. The keychain clinks as he climbs up into the Bronco.

Gravel sprays as the old 4x4 spins out and on to the asphalt. Paul speeds down the road. He flips on the old eight track.

Green Mountain. Gale. What do I do?

Paul takes a long deep breath.

I hope I'm doing the right thing. This is bigger than the both of us.

As the teacher exhales he reaches for the feeling of Fate. He tries to grab on to the Zone as he drives the deadly Green Mountain aflame with sickly red.

Baby I'll find you. I swear it.

[Wired*Nun]

The dust of Roy's truck hangs in the air as Paul speeds down the road to the west. He can almost smell her, and it's one of the hardest things he's ever done to stick to his initial decision.

He tries to open himself to the leadings of fate. A couple of miles up the road, it pulls him onto minor fork to the right, a gravel road labelled Windy Creek. There's dust of a recently-passed vehicle in the air. Did Roy come this way after all?

A couple of hundred yards up that, he sees a man standing in the middle of the road, leaning on a staff of some sort. He holds up his hand as Paul approaches in the Bronco.

[TreyKincaide]

The Bronco slides in the gravel as Paul jabs the breaks. He curses and begins pumping the lever to slow to a stop. He cuts the engine and hops out into a cloud of dust.

As the dirt in the air settles, "Who are you, and why are you in my way?"

[Wired*Nun]

The man is an apparition, now one with the dust. He appears to be Native American warrior, with feathers woven into his long black hair. He is holding a war spear, adorned with the tails of foxes.

"Because you follow the wrong path. The rope is around your neck, and you follow willingly, like a dog." He punctuates his stilted words with hand gestures, as if they are part of the language he speaks. "You must throw off the rope. Coyote has the rope, and he is tricking you."

[TreyKincaide]

"Coyote is tricking me," Paul mouths liking the taste only slightly less than the gravel in the air.

"Respectfully, I have no clue what I'm doing or where I'm going. I tried to feel my way to my destination, because only God knows what my Gift is now," Paul breathes heavily painfully aware of the rock road biting into his bare feet.

"I...I...fuck. What are you? One of the Naked? What would you have me do?"

Sometimes the best we can do is muddle along and have faith that everything will be okay...even if we know it won't be.

[Wired*Nun]

"Yes." He smiles, a rictus of bad teeth. "Only I am comfortable this way. Look," He says, waving his hand as if to encompass Paul.

He sees a glowing rope or line, from the vicinity of his throat forward, leading down the road past the Indian. Behind him he sees the same.

"Look. She leads you where she wishes - and she will eat your heart. Your heart is strong. Do not give it to her. She is Coyote. She is a trickster. Go to Green Mountain. It is the one place she does not want you. Even Coyote fears the Mountain Spirit."

[TreyKincaide]

Paul studies the rope trying to remember how Lilith's strands differed from the tether he's now seeing.

My son is strong if wayward.

"Then I was following the wrong Fate. What is the Mountain Spirit? What evil is controlling the humans?"

[Wired*Nun]

It's different, but not greatly so. This might be because it really is different, or may come from the way the Indian presents it to Paul. After all, he was seeing with Lilith's perceptions when he last saw the threads the way she did, and the glows and tendrils were different still.

"Yes. The Sky Spirit's paths are faint and narrow, while Coyote's are always broad. You must find the narrow path."

What is the Mountain Spirit? What evil is controlling the humans?"

"It is the angry spirit that sleeps no more. The land-rippers pierced its heart. We tried to warn them, but their greed was too great. Now it feeds on those who fed on the mountain."

[TreyKincaide]

"Why doesn't Coyote want me at Green Mountain? Why has she stolen my wife and child?"

When the world goes batshit crazy, I guess the only way to stay sane is play along. West Virginia was Moneton country. Some smattering of Cherokee, Shawnee, Chowtaw, and others, but they mostly settled north and west. This Unclothed may not be pulling my chain, but then again he might me trying to lead me to my doom.

Paul looks back down the way he way came to the path not taken, "The narrow path, huh? Does any of this have to do with the spirit that came to my dreams earlier today?"

[Wired*Nun]

He raises his hands to his head, the spear in the crook of his elbow. "Aieee, she is a jealous one. She wants you for herself. If you go to Green Mountain, you may die, or you may count coup on the Mountain Spirit and gain great honor. She wants you weak."

"The narrow path, huh? Does any of this have to do with the spirit that came to my dreams earlier today?"

"I know nothing of this." He lowers his hands, sitting down in the gravel road. "Sit. Speak of it, and I will guide you."

[TreyKincaide]

Lilith, are you doing this? If not, why aren't you fixing it? I believe your spirit is good, if fickle, but did our separation fuck you up more than it did me?

"If I count coup, will I have a chance to find Gale unharmed?"

He waits for an answer and follows suit sitting Indian style in the middle of the gravel road, "This morning I awoke from death for the second time. Unbeknownst to me, my Spirit is still unwhole and when my Gift faltered, I despaired.

"I fell into slumber and found myself on the deck of a ship in the middle of an endless gray sea..." Paul relates the story as well as he recalls the hazy dream.

[Wired*Nun]

"If I count coup, will I have a chance to find Gale unharmed?"

He picks at the stones in the road for a moment, tossing them into a rough circular pattern. How the dust can be swirling through him, yet the stones are subject to his touch, is difficult to fathom.

"If you do not, you have no chance at all. The Mountain Spirit wants to eat it all, and Coyote wants your child and your woman. You must defeat one enemy at a time."

The Amerind listens to Pauls recitation, grunting from time to time. When he is finished, he pronounces, "This is the spirit of the Walking Man, he who roams the Earth. He is brother to Coyote, and is the enemy of Sky Spirit. He gives a thing for a thing, but each thing is not equal. Beware his trade. Only the most clever can outwit Coyote, and out-trade the Walking Man."

[TreyKincaide]

"I was afraid you were going to say something like that. If something's too good to be true, then it probably is." Paul nods solemnly.

"Very well. I shall beware of the Walking Man, and chase Coyote another day. I'll go help my friends at Green Mountain."

Paul closes his eyes calmly. He stops and opens them briefly, "Tell Night I'm sorry."

He takes a deep breath drawing upon the blue furnace in his stomach. The chakra. The tan tien. He mentally severs the chain around his neck with pulsing blue energy.

He opens his eyes and stands not surprised to see the Indian spirit gone. Paul climbs into the Bronco and as he whips it around to retread to the road not taken, "We'll see each other again spirit. Of that I'm certain."

[Wired*Nun]

"Tell Night I'm sorry."

"You will tell him yourself, soon enough," replies the Amerind.

He mentally severs the chain around his neck with pulsing blue energy.

Paul feels the influence on him, that he sought before, driven away, at least for the nonce.


He opens his eyes and stands not surprised to see the Indian spirit gone.

Not gone, entirely, but standing some distance away, his hand raised in goodbye.

Inside the glovebox, Paul finds a West Virginia map. There is a penned circle around something - Green Mountain, and the ways he must travel to get to it are marked. At least, to the edge of it. It looks like there aren't any roads that lead to its summit or anything like that.

He drives.

[TreyKincaide]

It's a good thing this old Bronco's a 4x4. We'll see how far I can make it before having to hoof it.

Paul leaves the dome light on as he puts miles behind him. He consults his map to try to stay on track but as he gets into the mountains, he finds himself doubling back once or twice. The farther he drives, the more his thoughts turn to Gale.

[Wired*Nun]

The early morning light brightens, promising a glorious mountain summer's day. If thing were different...if things were different, the day might be a spot of perfection.

Once, he comes upon a paved road he must cross, wending his way though the backwoods. Te there are hordes of people walking, walking in trancelike states. No one is carrying anything - no water, no backpacks. No one is riding bycycles, and abandoned cars line the roads. Some people walk on bloody feet. One he sees has one shoe on, with the top of a destroyed sock still clinging to her ankle. He guns the Bronco across the road. Nobody pays him any mind.

The next such road is thicker with people as he gets closer. He's about to do the same, to dash across the road with full acceleration, but something makes him pause.

There's a child staring at him, where everyone else is ignoring him. It's a boy of about six, sitting on a hickory log at the rough corner of the paved and gravel roads. The battered green sign above him says "Pike's Corner Run", and a hand-lettered sign beneath declares "Fresh Eggs, Fryers 1 Mile."

He's white, with dirty-straw-colored hair under a battered straw hat; freckles, overalls and cheap tennis shoes complete the ensemble. Somehow Paul's mind wants him to be barefoot, Huck Finn style.

The boy's eyes lock with Pauls in suprise, and he jumps up, ignoring the flow of walkers going by.

"Hey! Hey mister!" He runs across the pavement to stop just out of arms reach at the drivers-side window. "Hey, you're awake!"

[TreyKincaide]

Coyote? Naked? Narc? Or something else entirely?

Did the Indian know what I'd find?

Can't trust my eyes.

Last time I ignored my gut, Gale was taken from me. Nephs--good and evil alike--will be drawn to this place. Which are you?

Paul plays it cool. He rests his arm on the door frame. The engine hums as he answers, "Yeah kid. I'm special too. You're from around here." Paul's tone is pleasant if guarded. He narrows his eyes to take in the Neph's 'color.'

Be careful. Just because he looks like a young boy, doesn't mean he is. Mesmer doesn't look 3000. Joan doesn't look a day over 35.

[Wired*Nun]

"Yeah, from Gilbert's Green." He points. "Near five mile. Ma and Da walked off I guess in the night, like the rest of these folks. I ran down here followin, I guess, but I never saw 'em. Got tired, so I sat down. I pulled some water." He takes out a plastic bottle from his pocket, holds it up for a moment. "You want one?"

Interestingly, the bottle is sweating with cold,. Where could he have gotten it out here?

Paul shifts his perceptions in the way he's learning to do. It still feels like a weak muscle, but it's getting easier. The boy glows a vibrant blue, and he seems to be free of threads, ropes, tendrils or other malignancies.

He seems to do a childish double-take. "Special? You can pull too?"

[TreyKincaide]

"Sure. I'll take one." Paul stares at the bottle.

Even if it's poisoned, I'll be fine. The boy looks to be Innocent. I suspect a Narc's flame would be darker. Dirtier.

"No. I don't Pull. My Gift's different. I used to Heal. No matter how bad I got hurt, I'd be fine. Now, I'm not so sure. Helped out someone important to me, and it went all sideways.

"Name's Paul. Used to be a teacher until I had...an accident. Then I chose to come back and woke up Special. Same thing happened to you, didn't it? You had an accident and then found that you could bring stuff that you wanted to you. Even stuff far away."

Damn. If this kid's on the up and up, he's got a hard road ahead of him.

Paul's eyes drift to the zombies marching in front of them, "My wife took off too. There's a monster in the mountain controlling them. I'm here to stop it."

I can't stop believing in people.

He looks back at the boy, "You can climb in if you'd like. Safer and more useful than just sitting on the side of the road. Other Special people--good and bad--will be coming here. Some, like me, will try to stop the monster. Others will try to help it.

"Up to you if you want to come with me. Either way, do you think you could Pull me one of your Dad's shirts? Maybe a pair of socks and boots too?"

[Wired*Nun]

He hands Paul up the bottle - cold, very welcome at this point.

"Wow, I can heal too, pretty fast. Ma says I'm a changeling and a fairy-child, and I'm not supposed to talk about Pulling. Or do it, 'cause like as not I'll get something somebody's gonna miss. But..." he looks around, at the lines of people. "I think this is differn't."

He shrugs. "My name's Jacob, like the man with the ladder that wrestled an angel. That's my favorite story. I seen angels, too, but only Ma believes me. Kinda. Grownups never really believe you, do they?" He shrugs again, pulls a juice box out of his pocket, working at the straw attached.

"I don't know about no accident. Ma says her son died when he was two, an' she put his body in his crib, an' the fairies came and put me in for the body, and I looked just like him but I was me 'cause i can't be him. I dunno. I feel like me to me." He shrugs again with the matter-of-fact acceptance of a child.

"My wife took off too. There's a monster in the mountain controlling them. I'm here to stop it."

"Yeah, I know about monsters. I seen 'em. Somethin' got aholt of these people...must be that mountain monster. But you're not a monster. You're like an angel with a body, like I seen before. Like the Injun."

He walks around to the passenger door, climbing in to bounce on the bench seat. He reaches over to touch Paul's bare shoulder for a moment, as if to assure himself that Paul is real.

"Yeah, I can Pull you a shirt. Only it won't be outa my pocket. Ma says if I have to Pull, I should Pull things outa my pocket, but...I guess it's all right."

He reaches into the air...and his arm disappears, like there was a hole it was going into. A moment later he pulls a red plaid shirt out of the hole, neatly ironed and hanging on a wire hangar. "Here ya go. Might be kinda hot but...I guess it's all right."

[TreyKincaide]

"Your Mom's a smart lady. She's right about Pulling out of your pocket. That way people don't see you do it," Paul smiles and slips on the shirt. "Your Gift's impressive. Thanks."

A bit itchy, but better than nothing.

"You're not a fairy, though. Like me you're a Nephilim. Neph for short. We're like what you said. Angels with bodies." He sighs, "There's also demons with bodies too. Don't worry, though. You are you."

"Put your seat belt on." Paul guns the engine and crosses the paved road careful not to hit any passersby.

"So, tell me about yourself Jacob, and tell me about what the Indian told you."

[Wired*Nun]

He puts on the seatbelt, the shoulder belt slipping behind him, being too big for his small frame. By his manner Paul revises his initial assessment upward a bit - the kid seems closer to nine than six now, maybe small for his age - or maybe being a Neph has somehow altered his physical growth and he's older than he looks.

"Neffulim. Neff. Nephilim. Yeah. That makes sense. Like Seraphim and Cherubim. Those are two kinds of the greater Angels. Wait a minit." He Pulls a big, leatherbound Bible out of the air, poring over it for a moment.

"Oh, yeah. Thought so. Nephilim were supposed to be giants, with six fingers, like Goliath. He was one of them. But you're not a giant." He sighs. "Da said it got all mixed up in the long-ago, an' you can't be sure of what's in the Bible, or even history books. Ma said it's all true, but we just don't unnerstan it all, like the Greek fables is true even if mice don't pull thorns out of lions' paws and foxes don't eat grapes."


"So, tell me about yourself Jacob, and tell me about what the Indian told you."


"Me? Ummm..." He suddenly becomes self-conscious. "I dunno. I live at Gilbert's Green. Da is a carpenter. He makes furniture, sells it for a living. Fixes stuff, too. Ma keeps the house and garden, chicken, pigs, and teaches me at home, 'cept for Sunday School at Hope Mountain Baptist. I'm just...I'm Jacob Gilbert." He shrugs.

"The Injun comes an' talk to me out in the woods, never when somebody can see. Da thinks I'm daft, but Ma doesn't...she just thinks I'm imaginative. He di'n't tell me anything, though. Not lately. We just talk about stuff, like the spirits of the trees and rocks an' Coyote and Sky Spirit an' Raven and Wendego." He shivers.

"Do you think the mountain monster is a Wendego?"

[TreyKincaide]

"They're both right. People see things differently, and tell stories in different ways. Only if you can understand the person writing, can you really understand his words," Paul slips on the teacher's hat easily enough as they bounce down the back road.

"No. A Wendego was a man overcome by a spirit of winter that hunts other men."

After tasting the flesh of another.

"The Mountain Spirit's much much worse. It's a sleeping demon. Like one of the sleeping Titans in Greek myth. You know, the ones Zeus locked away."

Cyclops, Hekatonshire, Titans...

"Do you know any stories about Coyote? Coyote took my wife."

[Wired*Nun]

"The injun said a Wendigo is a spirit that eats people, down to the last scrap of flesh, and swallows their spirit. I think it's the injun name for the Devil, that walks to and fro on the Earth like a roaring lion, seeking to devour."

"There's lots of stories about Coyote. He's a trickster, but sometimes his tricks help people. He brought fire to the injuns, but he laughed when they got burned when they tried to use it wrong. If Coyote took your wife, he's got a reason, but it doesn't mean it's bad or good. Maybe he just thinks it's funny. 'Course, sometimes Coyote is just a name for the thing that messes up your plans, like monkey-wrench."

According to the map, they are within a few miles of the end of the road that leads to Green Mountain. The hills are getting higher, and the road rougher. They pass cabins, double-wides and shotgun shacks. By now, there is a trickle of people walking the same way, zombielike.

"I never been here before," remarks Jacob with wonderment. "More hills here."

The road gets smaller and smaller, turning into a logging trail, finally ending at a small scraped turnabout with the deep ruts of heavy equipment, weeks old.

[TreyKincaide]

"The Indian said Coyote wanted me for herself, and that she'd eat my heart if I let her." Paul says absently.

"I guess that'll have to wait. It looks like we're nearly there," Paul lets the engine idle as he locks in four wheel drive. "We'll see how far we can get before we have to hoof it."

Paul eases the bronco forward slowly following the dirt trail.

[Wired*Nun]

The track peters out a few hundred yards up the ridge, where it gets too steep and rough even for the Bronco, and too narrow in some spots as well. He has a little less than half a tank of gas, and it occurs to him that if they get out at all, they might want to have the Bronco waiting for them coming out.

Of course, maybe Jacob could Pull some gas out of the air...

He's suddenly struck with hunger as he shuts off the truck. The silence of the forest descends over them, the morning sun slanting steeply from the east through the canopy. Birds and other creatures begin their sounds, haltingly, then more strongly.

"Not many folks come up here much," Jacob remarks matter-of-factly. "Squirrel there don't like us much, see?" He points at a scolding rodent. "I tried to Pull a squirrel, once. Bit me. Da said I got what I deserved, cons'quence of my actions. Squirrels aint pets." He smiles. "They taste good in stew, though."

The mention of stew redoubles Paul's gnawing emptiness.

[TreyKincaide]

"Never had squirrel. Dad used to hunt rabbit and deer, though. Let's go." Paul hops out of the bronco forgetting he's barefoot. He stumbles.

That's going to make going up the mountain difficult. My feet will be cut up. I haven't slept. I haven't eaten. I'm still recovering. What can I do?

He looks in the back of the bronco to see if there was anything left in there like the map in the glove box.

His stomach growls and Paul opens his mouth to ask Jacob to Pull an apple and some boots. He stops and touches his shirt.

No. I don't think that's right. I shouldn't ask Jacob to use his Gift to make life easier for me. I'm not going to starve. I can deal with pain. This journey is as much spiritual as physical. My Spirit must be strong or I will die and Gale will be lost.

He takes anything useful out of the Bronco and makes idle chatter with Jacob as he starts ascending, "Did the Indian tell you anything about 'counting coup?'"

[Wired*Nun]

"Squirrel's tasty, if ya perpare it right. Not a lotta meat, though. Wild turkey's better, and I can Pull a wild turkey pretty good. Get 'em 'round the neck and they jes go limp, mostly. Turkeys 're stupid."

Paul's feet seem just fine, though. On examination, they have developed a thick sole of callous, like a savage that never wore shoes, or a hobbit in the Rings movies. The back of the Bronco is a cornucopia of equipment - an axe, hatchet, tarps, flares, ropes, tent pegs, spikes, automotive tools, saws, hammers, nails...and it occurs to Paul that anything he doesn't see, Jacob can probably Pull. There's also some camping equipment including canned goods and cooking utensils. Most of it could be eaten cold, in a pinch - stew, chili, vegetables, soup. The Indian apparently wanted Paul equipped.

The Indian influenced the old man...but who is pulling the Indian's strings?

He takes anything useful out of the Bronco and makes idle chatter with Jacob as he starts ascending, "Did the Indian tell you anything about 'counting coup?'"

"Nope. What's that mean? Like how many chickens there are?"

They haven't gone an hundred yards before something odd happens. Again...

A man appears in front of them, though this one doesn't seem to be one of the Naked. Paul can see his footprints as he walks toward them slowly. He is dressed in a fine outfit that reminds Paul of Teddy Roosevelt or something out of the Wild West - brown courderoy jacket, western shirt, scarf, denim jeans, boots, and a perfect, new Indiana Jones-style fedora. In fact, that may have been the model, though the man himself looks more like Roger Moore.

"Hello, Paul. Jacob. Good to see you again." It's the man from Paul's dream, the sea captain.

"Whataya mean again. I never seen you before." Jacob's reply is a bit terse, different from his manner toward Paul. "Not in the flesh, nohow."

[TreyKincaide]

"You're what the Indian called the Walking Man," Paul fixes the arrival with a questioning glare.

"And you appeared in my dream. You looked different, but it's you," Paul's eyes trail off to his young companion.

He's appeared to Jacob too. I wonder what he wanted, and why Jacob's suddenly so...uneasy. Kids usually have a better impression than adults. I'm going to trust his reaction regardless.

He looks back, "I've been warned that dealing you is like dealing with the Devil. No trade is equal. My soul's not on the table."

That's why he came to me. Not to help, but rather he sensed my weakness. He--it--thought I was an easy mark.

[Wired*Nun]

"Yes, I am. And sure. I'll always show a profit. But that's what business is about. Win-win. Sometimes somebody wins more, but we both can win. And I don't make deals for souls...not like you're thinking. Nobody can give someone their soul if they don't want to, with their whole heart. That's not what I want from you, anyway. I'm just hoping for some cooperation."

He sits down on a log by the side of the trail. "Can you Pull me a mirror, son?" asked the Walking Man.

Jacob looks at him narrowly. "I guess." He looks up at Paul, as if for approval.

[TreyKincaide]

Paul hawishly mirrors Jacob's expression. His mind overlays the many armed creature upon the 'intrepid adventurer' spy's physique.

He sounds like a salesman, but this is a being older than time and likely partially responsible for the creation of the Nephilim race. It's unknowable. What it wants. What it's foreseen. Where it's end game lies.

Paul offers a hesitant nod, "I'll hear your pitch."

I do know that I play a part in its plans. I also know the greatest power I have is choice. The choice to walk away.

[Wired*Nun]

Jacob reaches into the air, drawing out a hand mirror like a barber uses to show the back of a customer's hair. He hands it to the man.

"Thanks, son," he says courteously. He holds up the mirror outward, facing Paul. "Mirror, mirror...oh, you know the rest."

The surface of the mirror ripples, resolving itself into an interior scene. It's a bedroom, and Gale lies bound and gagged on a bed. It doesn't look like she's been harmed, and she is squirming and struggling with her bonds in a mechanical way. Her eyes are open and staring, but there is no fear.

"The good is, I can get her back for you - unharmed in body and soul. The child inside her too. The bad? You see her situation. Once this whole thing is over, you'd think she'd end up a sex slave in some bad Deliverance remake. The ugly? The ugly is...it's a lot worse than that." He smiles, bleakly, sympathetically even.

"That fate would be kind compared to what will happen if something isn't done. Because even if you follow your honor and put her needs aside long enough to help win this fight for your friends, it won't be your Gale in there when you do get her back."

[TreyKincaide]

"You are Coyote's--whomever took Gale's--ally. Unless the Indian's wrong, and he hasn't been so far. Why are you offering to intercede?" Paul's voice betrays the gut wrenching disgust and fear washing over his body.

Or was this all planned to trap me into making a deal?

"If this fight isn't won, then there won't be anything left at all, but I know enough now that I take your meaning. Gale's mind could me shattered or she could be host to possession or any other possible meaning of the word."

Paul's throat is dry, "What's your price?"

Here it is. My will will be tested. Chose wisely. Everything depends on it.

[Wired*Nun]

"You are Coyote's--whomever took Gale's--ally. Unless the Indian's wrong, and he hasn't been so far. Why are you offering to intercede?"

He shrugs. "Ally is too strong a term. Sometimes our interests coincide. Sometimes not. This time she's overreaching. I'm not interceding...I'm just tricking the trickster."


"If this fight isn't won, then there won't be anything left at all, but I know enough now that I take your meaning. Gale's mind could me shattered or she could be host to possession or any other possible meaning of the word."


He laughs. "Nothing left for mortals perhaps, in the highminded sense of 'inalienable rights' and 'human dignity'. They would be made slaves for those at the top...nothing new there, except this time it's not mortals enslaving mortals. But there would still be a functioning society...with freedom and power reserved for the greater beings. That would be...extremely dull. She doesn't want that either. She wants better clothing. She wants someone to appreciate that clothing. She wants what others have, what she's been denied for so long. She's extremely vain." He looks at Paul from under knitted brows, toying with the mirror.

"And she wants you. She wants both of you. All of you." He holds up three fingers.

[TreyKincaide]

"She wants to wear Gale and play house," Paul finishes frowning. "So Lilith is behind this."

[Wired*Nun]

"Yes...play house with you, whom she covets. And with your daughter, who presents a unique opportunity. Now you begin to understand. Everyone, no matter how honorable in intentions, finds a way to twist their honor to suit themselves. Eventually. And sometimes, events twist things for them."

"A hundred fifty years ago, she wouldn't have done this. But she never had a hundred fifty years of torment, cold, and inconsequence before. Like a child of privilege, that loses everything,, she's desperate to be rich and secure again...so she finally convinced herself to begin betraying even her closest friends and family. Which you are not, by the way."

"That time of torment twisted her soul, just enough to make her compromise."

[TreyKincaide]

"I see," Paul replies cooly as Lilith's tapestry unravels before his eyes.

Mesmer would never allow this to happen. Lilith doesn't want the world to end. No, she wouldn't sell us out that completely. However, a hundred fifty years of abandonment would lead the vain and proud woman that I know to punish the man she'd believed would save her. She's going to let Mesmer die.

"Very well. I won't make the same mistake she did. One day I may be wise enough to strike a bargain with you, but today I know nothing."

I've compromised before, and it lost me everything. Never again.

"I'm going to do things my way. Heaven help me."

She didn't count on me being here. I'm the unknown thread in her scheme.

"Gale will hold out long enough, I have faith."

Paul turns to his young companion, "Come on. We don't have much time to reach the summit. I can't let my boss die even if I go in his place. My wife and daughter depend on it."

[Wired*Nun]

The man raises his voice as they turn to leave. "You don't even know my price...or my offer."

[TreyKincaide]

"You're right," Paul responds over his shoulder. "but even if you told me, I still wouldn't know your motivations. I doubt your intentions are truly benevolent otherwise you wouldn't try to bargain with my wife and daughter. You'd do what was right and earn my good will. You may have helped create the Nephilim race but you lack humanity and so everything you do is suspect. I'll Heal my soul, develop my Will, save Mesmer, my wife, my daughter, and I'll do it all without compromising my honor or contingency."

[Wired*Nun]

"You can't compromise contingency. You can only exercise it." He clasps his arms behind his back. "So be it." The figure brings one hand out to raise it in farewell.

At this, something unexpected happens. The figure seems to recede, but Paul realizes it is he himself that is receding. Jacob yells "Hey!" then reaches into a hole in the air. Paul feels himself being grasped by the sleeve, then the distance between them telescopes like a special effect. Jacob latches on with both hands as he arrives at Paul's side.

"Wow, I never Pulled myself before. That was dilly!"

There comes a jolt, and the whirl of the world comes back into focus. They both are deposited, none too gently, on a high, steep, south-facing mountainside. It overlooks a vast bowl of destruction, where the vegetation has been stripped away. Now, there are terraces and cuts, falls of rock and rubble, and the remnants of roads and railway tracks - a vast open-pit mine.

Instead of bringing out ore, he sees lines, streams, rivers of humanity making way down toward its center. There, they disappear by the hundreds and thousands per minute, in a mass twenty wide and tens of thousands deep as they queue up to enter the gaping hole at the bottom of the funnel.

Off in the distance to the southeast he sees a helicopter flying away eastward.

[TreyKincaide]

Paul shakes his head in disorientation, "I don't know if I'd say that, but it's good you learned something about your Gift. If we get into trouble, you can get away safely."

Paul looks down at the teaming mass of sheep led to the slaughter. "Yeah. That's bad," the teacher states flatly. "Don't know if we can get in that way. Just too many people to deal with."

Paul narrows his eyes as he sees the helicopter flying away.

We have company. The question is who. Where's the team, and if they're trying to stay under the radar, how the hell am I going to find them to warn them? If I pop off a flare, the mob'll be on us before I can spit.

"Unless we can find an air shaft or some kind of service entrance we might just have to 'blend in'."

"Hmmm...tell me more about how you Pull. How do you decide what to Pull? Does it need to be something you've seen before?"

[Wired*Nun]

Jacob shakes his head. "I don' think so, zackly. I tried to go through the hole before it din't work. This was more like I was Pullin' you but since we was flyin' and close I pulled me instead and' we got closer. Wait a sec." He looks around, then points at a scrubby bush about fifty feet away.

"I'll pull on that." He reaches through the hole in the air. Paul sees his hand come out of the ether and grasp the bush. Jacob begins tugging on it. He stumbles toward the bush, almost falling on the steep slope. "Yeah, see, it kinda pulls us both. Only if it don't move, I gotta move." He lets go, brushing off his hand.


Paul looks down at the teaming mass of sheep led to the slaughter. "Yeah. That's bad," the teacher states flatly. "Don't know if we can get in that way. Just too many people to deal with."


Jacob looks pensively down on the crowd, then up to Paul. "Ma and Da are down there, somewheres. We gotta do something." His face says he's brave, but his eyes are pleading for a solution.

"Unless we can find an air shaft or some kind of service entrance we might just have to 'blend in'."


"Yeah, can't we just...walk in with them? How would they know, if we din't do anything wierd? They ain't actin' too brightsome."

"Hmmm...tell me more about how you Pull. How do you decide what to Pull? Does it need to be something you've seen before?"

"I dunno, I just think of it. Then I reach through and grab it. I can Pull anything. Well, anything I can lift. Never been not able to. I got a Pee-casso once, I saw it in a book, 'til Ma made me send it back. I had to larn me some discipline, though. When I was little I'd Pull about anything, 'til I got taught that it might be stealin'. Just 'cause I can get anything don't mean it's really mine. Da says I'm gonna be powerful tempted as I grow up, and I better learn some discipline." He says this diffidently, in the way children have when talking about things they don't fully understand.

[TreyKincaide]

"Your parents remind me of mine. Good people," Paul looks at the horde of lemmings and sighs.

"It's not them catching on that worries me. It's what's controlling them. You see compared to normal folk we glow like a bonfire even doing nothing. If they turn on us, there's too many for me to deal with. They'll wash over us like ants on a fallen piece of candy," Paul looks down at the kid looking for a flash of understanding.

"But..it doesn't look like we have much choice. If something happens, I'll try to make sure you can get away. You're a brave young man Jacob, but if something bad happens, you run. You understand me?"

Paul looks down the cliffside, "Come on. Let's do this before I change my mind. I'm going to go first down the path. If I fall, I'll be okay. If you start to slip grab on to me."

[Wired*Nun]

"Yeah. Lotsa good people an' bad down there, and ain't none of them strong enough." He looks up at Paul and grins. "That's why they need heroes. Like you an' me."


"But..it doesn't look like we have much choice. If something happens, I'll try to make sure you can get away. You're a brave young man Jacob, but if something bad happens, you run. You understand me?"


"Yeah...but they din't pay me no nevermind before. I prayed like Daniel in the Lion's Den, when the angel shut the lions' mouths. 'Course, Da allas said if you don't go in no lion's den, you don't need no angels."


Paul looks down the cliffside, "Come on. Let's do this before I change my mind. I'm going to go first down the path. If I fall, I'll be okay. If you start to slip grab on to me."


"Aw, this ain't nothin'." He starts down the rough mountainside ahead of Paul, nimble as a bighorn sheep. Paul has no trouble himself, given his superb physical condition supplied by his Gift. In fact, he feels his muscles hardening in new places as he climbs down.

They reach the a graded switchback roadway and watch for a moment as the dull-eyed people shuffle by. No one pays them any attention.

[TreyKincaide]

"Amazing," Paul mutters. "Just a day ago walking on a tread mill left me flat on my back." He stretches, "I guess that means I'm getting better. Good thing too."

Paul leads Jacob into the crowd and starts winding their way down into the underworld.

[Wired*Nun]

A few dozen yards inside the enormous mine entrance, Paul and Jacob start to lose their ability to see. A moment later Jacob hands Paul a flashlight, turning on another one himself. The people around them shuffle forward, paying them no mind. The crowd carries them along at a slow pace.

They start to pass tunnels off to the left and the right, some finished and painted, some rough-hewn. Paul can see windows and offices cut out of the rock, long abandoned. A bit after that, the tunnel slopes downward at a gentle grade, and the tunnels turn into mineshafts, bored at various angles and showing traces of cart tracks and abandoned machinery.

Most of the people are shuffling downward in the main tunnel, but some streams of them turn off into smaller passageways, evidently taking all available routes. Some have collapsed along the way, and lay unconscious on the floor. A few might be dead.

[TreyKincaide]

"Thanks," Paul responds and shines the light getting a bearing. On he walks glancing down the small passage ways. He shakes his head at the unconscious people on the floor, "I wish we could stop and help them. Leaving them doesn't seem right, but...."

He sighs as his conscience weighs on him, "Let's break off and follow down one of these side passages. I still don't like the idea of waltzing right in. If Mesmer and the rest are here, hopefully they'd be doing the same. In any event, I don't want to stare down the head honcho all by our lonesome unless we have to."

Paul veers off following a smaller group of people down a tunnel that leads off to the left.

[Wired*Nun]

The tunnel turns out to be an old shaft, drilled downward at a thirty-degree angle. The footing is poor, and everyone puts out their hands to steady themselves against the walls. Probably it's instinctual. Everyone is by now beginnning to become covered with coal dust and dirt. Underfoot there are the remnants of a cogged track for ore carts.

Thanksfully, the steep part ends after an hundred yards or so, opening out into a vast cavern filled with jumbled falls of ore, leftover machinery, broken or intact supports of wood and steel - a hell without fire or ice, a stygian place relieved only by the plodding footsteps of doomed mortals and the stabbing beams of their two light.

Jacob shispers, "This here mine's part's old. Probly from afore they started the strip mining. That makes a lot more money but tears ever'thing up. Look here." He points the light at a crate. "Del Monte Corporation," "Creamed corn" and "1962" can be made out faintly on the side.

The people wend their wandering way through the cavern still. Jacob follows along with Paul, looking at everything with childlike interest.

A sharp cry comes from behind him then, and Paul turns around quickly to see Jacob holding his leg, sitting on the ground. Closer inspection reveals a sharp piece of scrap metal protruding from his calf, about six inches long perhaps. It has been driven almost through, and Jacob's eyes leak tears of pain. His breathing is suddenly ragged. He moans again as he tries to take hold of the shiv.

[TreyKincaide]

"Oh, Jacob. What happened?" Paul turns and kneels looking around the boy for some explanation of how the boy was injured.

"Shhh. Shhhh. Let me," Paul tries to comfort the boy. "This is going to hurt, but you'll Heal. I want to try to calm down and Pull some bandaging."

Paul tries his best to remove the spike without making the boy suffer.

[Wired*Nun]

"Just stepped on a piec a metal, popped that up. Oooh, it hurts." He lays back, drawing a big breath.

"I heal fast, but we got no time." He reaches into the ether, then drops an automobile-style first-aid kit on the ground next to him. He lapses into near unconsciousness, responding only with a groan or two. His eyes are unfocused, and his skin is clammy.

All those first-aid classes the school board mandated for teachers come rushing back to him - airway, check, bleeding...the wound is oozing blood fast, faster than it should. If he pulls out the metal, it will bleed freely. How much blood loss can a young Neph take? Shock...definitely. He will have to pull clothes off of fallen mortals if he is to wrap him warmly.

[TreyKincaide]

"Shit. Shit. Shit," Paul mutters as he gives Jacob the once over.

Must have nicked a vein. Lucky he didn't hit an artery.

He rushes over to nearby fallen mortals. He takes only enough time to check for the absence of a pulse before scavenging some clothing.

Wrappings in hand he returns. He rips open the med. kit. pulls out bandages and the like.

Shouldn't have to worry about infection, but I can't pull out the spike without him bleeding out. Unless...unless I can push my healing outward. I know there's a fount of my power located at my tan tien from which I can pour energy outward. It's a gamble but I think it should work.

Paul sits down beside the boy and begins trying to calm his breathing. He takes a moment to center himself before opening his eyes and removing the spike from Jacob's leg. He visualizes his Gift pulsing outward of the power fount of power Healing the open word and re-energizing the boy.

[Wired*Nun]

Jacob passes out as the jagged piece of metal tears free and his wound bleeds freely.

As he lays hands on the boy to heal him, he feels the power go out from him and watches as the wound closes up within seconds. A moment later, he opens his eyes, sitting up and throwing off the jackets with bright eyes.

"I felt that! You fixed me. Wow! I feel great!" He stands up, brushing himself off with his hands. He reaches into the air and Pulls out two nicely-wrapped Blimpie subs, handing one to Paul. "I'm starving!"

Paul for his part doesn't feel particularly hungry, but this new application is something to think about...how far he could extend the power? How much healing he could do? How far away could he be? And so on.

[TreyKincaide]

Paul accepts the sub anyway and munch along in silence. He keeps a wary eye out in case the energy flare drew unwanted attention.

So I can cause other's to regenerate. Not Healing on the scale of Joan who can heal minds and souls in addition to bodies, but damn awesome in its own right. So I can Heal myself, Heal others, and commune with the Naked. Good to know.

"Never did that before. Wasn't sure I could, but I'm damn glad that it worked out. The Healing comes from my energy, but you lost a lot of blood." He helps the boy to his feet, "We need to keep moving though."

[Wired*Nun]

People keep streaming past, in dribs and drabs, reminding Paul that each zombie, each moment may represent lives snuffed out to feed whatever Beast is at the end.

"Me too. I'm d-- really glad." He flushes, taking another big bite. "I feel like when I drank too much coffee one time." He does a childish dance, whirling around and jumping off a small boulder. "Let's go!"

Twenty minutes later, he debouches onto a small platform high up in a vast cavern. People trudge past them as they step aside, still ignoring the two pilgrims. They move slowly down catwalks and stairways clinging to the cavern sides, down to the artifical cavern floor.

Beneath them, they can see thousands of people streaming in from many different openings. There is one huge opening that must have been the main mine entrance, and now disgorges walking bodies at a rate of hundreds per minute. The cavern is so vast that it might hold ten thousand without trouble, probably more. It's the size of a sports stadium.

In the center of the floor is a pool of glowing bilious red, a flowing pulsing stuff that seems to emanate inimical radiation. Paul can see the stuff overlapping people, swallowing them one by one. It seems to be growing, very slowly.

[TreyKincaide]

Paul's eyes touch the crowd yearning for some sight of Mesmer, Ash, Hillary, and the rest. A steadying breath escapes his chest, "We're here."

The bilious red pool grabs his attention as innocents are devoured.

No pestilence had ever been so fatal, or so hideous. Blood was it's Avatar and its seal...

"This is the end of the road. I hope Gale's there on the other side," Paul looks down at his unlikely companion. "I'm finishing what I started. You can follow me into the mist or try to find your parents. Choose."

Paul begins walking to the center. As he nears the pulsing cloud he envisions his blue ball of energy expanding outward encircling him and warding off the ill humours.

[Wired*Nun]

"We're like Frodo and Sam. That's the Crack of Doom. Only we got no Ring. What are we s'posed to do?"

As Paul begins walking down - it will take some tens of minutes, perhaps, to reach the floor - Jacob grabs onto Paul's hand. "What will we do?" he repeats.

[TreyKincaide]

Paul stops and blinks, "I was going to go straight in and trust in my Healing to see me through plugging the Crack," His eyes trail back uneasily to the red cloud.

"Pray for a sign, I guess."

[Wired*Nun]

Jacob hangs on to Paul's hand like the child he is. "Don't...not yet." He looks up at Paul, his eyes enormous and unfocused, as they reach the level of the floor. "Something's happening..."

A presence behind Paul makes him turn. Two presences. More.

One is the Indian. Another is Night. Behind them appear one, two, several, a dozen, more figures, to slowly surround Paul and Jacob. All of them look...hungry. Lustful. Yearning, pining, wistful, desperate, thirsty.

The Indian speaks, more self-controlled than the others perhaps. "One man's death is another's life. Your Gift in this place may clothe us again."

"Paul..." rumbles Night. "I cannot live like this, this half-life. You must give us flesh."

"Flesh..." susurrate the horde of ghostly figures behind them. "Fleshhh...."

He feel certain that this really is Night and the Indian standing before him, not some trick of the Enemy...he remembers Lilith's cold touch, demanding flesh, when he first encountered her. His suppositions on the state of the Naked as time went on, their ability to think gradually fading but their spirits lingering on into an animal-like state...

[TreyKincaide]

I can't house them all. My will isn't up to that task. Is it?

Paul stares past the group his eyes fixed on the red death.

It's up to me to do something. This is why I'm here. This thing that I can do is legion. Remember Lilith, though. Good intentions pave the road to hell.

He nods his head looking at down at Jacob's small trembling hand. He grasps it tightly as he remembers the boy's wound freeing bleeding not a half an hour before and his intuition clicks, "Don't be scared. They once walked in the Light. Now they exist between worlds."

Paul looks up, "So be it. Night, I am sorry that my choice led to your death. I will not fail you now."

I can extend my Gift to others. The Naked lack the energy to cloth themselves. Perhaps, if I extend outward rather than allow them to come in, I can bring them to Life if for a short time by boosting their own regenerative abilities.

"I am ready to begin," Paul closes his eyes and envisions his Gift expanding outward.

[Wired*Nun]

There are moments, such as when flying an airplane, when all the right intentions in the world help not a whit, when executed wrongly.

Then there are moments when it doesn't matter - when only the intent matters, when the guiding hand of Fate or God or the Universe intervenes, that transforms purity of heart into perfect action. These moments are more common than most realize, but are seldom celebrated. Most are hidden, still, small. The rejuvenation of a soul by the perfect Word. The healing of one hanging on to life by the laying on of human hands. The turning away of wrath that would lead to murder.



For this moment...not every one, but some, Not all, but enough. Not his body, but those that lay scattered about, fallen in exhaustion, thirst, brain fever, ill health, chronic conditions...those fortunate few among the many that died an almost-natural death on the doorstep of demonic consumption, whose souls even now were far from this evil place, awaiting whatever judgment that comes after life.

Bodies, newly-expired, take breath again, hearts begin to beat, eyes open. The Naked leap upon these new clothes with eager jostling, fitting themselves as well as they may to the flesh they crave. Night is almost the last, watching. He takes for himself the body of a large man, old, perhaps, flabby, but not decrepit. Not black as Night, but the creamy milk-chocolate color of Creole, with bad yellow teeth showing in a smile that splits his face.

The Indian makes his final selection, rising in the body of a boy of perhaps thirteen, tall already and wiry, long Amerind hair unbound and wild.

"Wow," gasps Jacob. "That was mighty...!" He can't seem to find himself an adjective. "'Mazing!" he finally comes up with.

The Indian youth smiles and whoops. "I breathe again! I will ride the wind and be with my brothers again!" He leaps at Paul, hugging him and lifting him briefly off his feet.

Night - the new Night, it seems - reaches out also to embrace Paul in a crushing bear-hug. "I knew you would give me life again, Paul Hunting! I always knew."

[TreyKincaide]

Paul smiles despite the evil haze when he opens his eyes and surveys his handiwork. Almost surprised at the results Paul gets wedged, "An' that I found you earlier, I would have gladly born you on my back, my friend. I regret our reunion takes place under a bad bloody moon.

"It took me this long to determine the true use of my Gift. It never crossed my mind that I'm a Healer like Joan. Could have spared alot of folks grief, myself included, if I'd figured it out before now, but I guess I just wasn't ready. Now, no Naked will be forced to suffer ever again.

"So, Night. it's time to go hunting again," Paul looks down at the new Indian, "I turned down the Walking Man's deal. We're on our own. Good thing you brought an army with you," he bows to the newly re-assembled group.

[Wired*Nun]

"Your Gift goes beyond Healing, Paul Hunting. You brought these bodies back to life. That is the power of resurrection! But without souls, they would just be bodies, ripe for posession by any malevolent spirit."

"Aiee, and not all these Naked are on the side of Light," the young warrior interjects. "As soon as they come to themselves, we may have a battle. This is not the time or place for a battle. But for a little while, they will take our commands, soul-stunned as they are."

"But that thing will devour us just as it does mortals. Even now..." Night points across the floor at the glowing pool. It is lapping upward, rising against gravity, reaching slowly in their direction. "It sees us as food. We must not feed it further."

"We gotta stop all the people going there...they're dying!" Jacob cries. "Paul, tell these guys to push the people back, or..."

Night laughs with delight. "I can stop some," he says, turning to a nearby stream of zombies. He spreads his arms, shoving them back to the opening from whence they come, plugging the small tunnel mouth with his vast strength.

But Paul can see that this is only a temporary solution. There are many streams of the doomed, and blocking the entrances will immobilize the newly Clothed for the slowly questing pool of Chemosh, or whatever it is. And even though it seems fat and slow right now, he remembers the tendrils that seized others, directing their actions. There has to be another way, another strategy or method.

[TreyKincaide]

In that midst of chaos Paul's ordered mind grasps for a solution. As he comes to terms with the true nature of his Gift his self-awareness grows again for power over life carries with it power over death, "Do not worry about the Narcs. If they choose to follow their darker nature, then what was done can be undone with no hope of resurrection.

"Soon our interference will be noticed if it hasn't already, and then these people will swarm over us like ants to carry us to oblivion.

"We need to break Chemosh's hold over these people. Fight back the tendrils of his influence or redirect them. I might be able to fool Chemosh momentarily by reviving those he's already devoured and sate his appetite. Somehow we need to close the maw," Paul shakes his head.

"I need to stop thinking in terms of 'I.' Our greatest ability is to lend others our Gifts. Night can make everyone as strong. Jacob can lend his ability to Pull. I don't know what the rest of you can do. There's an answer there. I just need the Insight to See it."

[Wired*Nun]

"You are the key to this somehow," intones Night. "Elohim has led you to this place. He has placed His hand upon you and given you a task, though you know it not yet. But we will help. Let it be soon. How can we stop these people from being consumed?"

"I could...I could Pull them away, if there was a place to put them. If you made me strong," Jacob says brightly.

"Five fingers form one fist," invokes the Indian. "We must combine our Gifts. Mine is the Gift of Vision," he declares, spreading his arms wide.

Paul's perceptions expand. He now can see in all directions, and matter seems no obstacle - he preceives the insides of the rock walls, the veins of coal, the sparkle of tiny crystals, the beating hearts of the mortals and Nephilim around him. It staggers him with information for a moment, as he strives to master it."

"And I can lend strength, of course." Night's blue aura flares, spreading to encompass those around him. "But we cannot sustain these gifts for long...without you, Paul. You must give us Endurance."

[TreyKincaide]

Paul bends over resting his hands on his knees until his expanded senses reach equilibrium. He looks up at Jacob, "Not the people, but you're going to Pull. We all are."

He stokes the blue fire in his belly extending out to encircle the lot with his Gift of Endurance as he had done before, "I have an idea, and it's because you, Jacob." He smiles and reaches out to squeeze the young boy's hand. "Because of you, we can save all these people. You're the real hero today."

"If we Pull all these people away, they'd still keep coming. We'd only buy ourselves time. Instead, we Pull the maw back in on itself like the Ouroboros--the serpent eating itself. Turn our enemy's power against him, so that Chemosh's Hunger is its own undoing.

"This is the plan. We have the recently arisen hold back the tide of people while we work. We, the four of us, take a cardinal direction surrounding the maw and Pull a pocket as it expands right back into it's center."

[Wired*Nun]

"I don't get it..." says Paul confusedly. "If we Pull it, it's gonna eat us!"

"I do not understand, either, Paul Hunting. What is this Pulling?"

The Indian remarks, "The godling is endlessly hungry, is nothing but a lust for dying life. So it has been remade by the mad adversaries. It is a hole that can never be filled, a wound that bleeds even as it eats.

[TreyKincaide]

"Jacob. You just said that you could Pull all these people away. I thought that meant you could Push these people away while staying here. Have you ever tried something like that before--sending something away? I want us to Push it back in on itself."

"Night, Jacob's Gift that he's extending to us is the ability to apport objects, animals, and people. He creates small gates in space that he reaches through. That's why I believe that if we each use his Gift standing at the four corners we can transport Chemosh's hunger back on itself. As the Indian says it can't be filled and it can't be healed. Instead I propose that we let it's lust for dying life to destroy it.

"I see no better option unless any of you have suggestions."