The guard trilogy box se.., p.27
The Guard Trilogy Box Set, page 27
part #1 of The Guard Series
“That’s where the Water-bearer comes in,” he countered, taking the laptop from Michael again.
“So, because another Arch—one who governs the waters of Earth, has been watching over the water-bearer, I’m supposed to think this is a done deal?” Michael scoffed.
“Awhh, Michael, you know our fellow Arch is more than that—he also protects the inner emotional waters of those he watches over... reflecting the love that is irrefutably theirs and always, always available to them from the universe. He’s an important part in their dreams and their intuitive wisdom.” Raphael paused again, gazing around at the surrounding splendor.
“I didn’t mean to—I mean—it’s not as if….” Regretful, Michael lowered his head.
Raphael finished for him, “… not as if Azariel made the same sacrifices we have, or our Charges have. I know.” He patted his friend’s shoulder.
“In the meantime, things are falling apart all around us. Unless they show Him, they give a damn—He won’t give a damn. The Watchers are free to influence their descendants any way they choose. It’s obvious most are still angry with Him,” Michael said, a poor try at redirecting the conversation.
Raphael searched the internet. “Not all,” Raphael said. “Some only watch over their descendants—even the bad ones, and they don’t influence them into evil. They believe in free will, the will to choose good over evil. Gabriel told us—if needed, the four could gather to show Him they believe in what their mothers had done before them. It’s not enough they each passed the secret and the burden to their daughters—not anymore. A gathering is needed to prove they believe in humanity. Gabriel assured us.”
His words had been an attempt at convincing Michael, but he needed them too. The leaders of the 200 would wait to see if the Charges failed. He knew if their Charges failed, that those leaders who watched over the evil of the world, might nudge that free will in the wrong direction, create chaos on Earth, showing Him that man was not worth the effort, humanity was not worth sparing. Some of his brethren understood their penance for their crimes, while others, their anger has only festered through the generations of men. Without proof that humankind—these women, are worthy in His eyes, what or who will hold evil back from destroying the Earth?
“How can Gabriel be sure? I know why I chose whom I chose—why we chose whom we chose, but that was also 5000 years ago. He only made his choice 35 years ago. What makes his choice the right one—what makes it so special?” Michael challenged.
Having no good answer, Raphael said, “Here’s a good one. Last February, the global protests against the Iraq War—remember? Over 10 million people protested in over 600 cities worldwide. It was the largest protest to take place before a war occurred. He turned the laptop towards his friend.
“But you forget.” Michael paused. “In March, a month later, the Iraq War began with the invasion of Iraq by the U.S. and allied forces—their protests did nothing,” Michael reminded, sounding hopeless.
After an exhaustive search, Raphael paused and said, “What about this one? Yusuf Hamied and his India-based company Cipla… they broke the alliance of those multinational drug companies. They created a generic AIDS drug costing one tenth the price of the brand name. They run a free cancer hospital in India. Even launched the world's first once-a-day AIDS treatment and offer free doses of nevirapine if needed—it prevents babies from being infected when they are born to an HIV positive mother. The owner was quoted as saying he, didn’t want to make money from AIDS and that he, makes enough on other things.” Raphael smiled at his friends. “There, one person helping many—like our four have always done,” he finished, hopeful in easing his friend’s pain, and perhaps his own.
Michael turned to his friend and in a calm voice he said, “It’s not enough. The balance is still off… and getting worse. HE doesn’t see… HE does not care.”
Chapter 29
“Cipher eeehhh?” Derek said, tossing out the title with a jokey Canadian accent, followed up by a laugh. “Read it again.”
Laughing a little with him, I reread the description noted from Mom’s journal. “He won’t know he’s the one. He will reveal himself. But while everyone can see him, only you will hear him and he, you. They speak the same language… he will be spiritual, but of no specific religion, it’ll be a chance meeting that turns into a great friendship. He will be quick to knowledge and problem solving.”
“Have to admit—sounds a lot like when you and I met, sounds a lot like moi!” he gloated.
“Yup,” I said, then heard the front door open, followed by a gaggle of voices. I covered the phone. “I’m up here, down in a sec!” I called out, even though my car was in the driveway showing I was home. My words were chased with a quick shout back from Olivia.
“Come get dinner,” she yelled.
My stomach growled as I refocused back on Derek. “Well geeze, I saw you do a Rubik’s cube in like under five minutes. You’re not only book-smart—you’re common-sense smart, well—most of the time.” I smiled into the phone. “You don’t just state the problem, you immediately come up with a solution. Remember when you told me about your discussion regarding the governments in Iraq? You’d said, Just buy them all a TV. In no time at all they’ll be more worried about who’s winning Dancing with the Stars than trying to bomb Americans. Your coworker agreed it was brilliant too.”
We both laughed.
“First, it was under two minutes, not five. Second, this is a huge simplification of my Middle East reformation plan/joke—but the premise holds,” he assured me, following with another laugh. “As for puzzles, I have a collection of wood and metal brainteasers and at work—they know me as the one who can do that stuff. My business partner has a small metal puzzle on his desk—I’m one of only two who’ve gotten the pieces out, but I’m the only one who can consistently do it, aaand who can get the pieces back in—which is harder by the way.” His voice continued to energize as he spoke. “I love puzzles and brainteasers. I particularly like those requiring digital manipulation and patterns. I also use phrases like digital manipulation because, well—I'm a geek.”
“Is that all,” I joked.
“Well, in college I invented a language with a coworker. We could talk about people at meetings without them knowing—it was more of a joke. I also like the challenge of puzzles where you have to decode an encoded phrase using simple letter substitution. I have all the techy toys too, have them all hooked up at home. I can watch my TV on my phone anywhere I can get a signal—and I can also monitor my security cameras from my phone. Did all the wiring and installation of the security cameras. Wired my entire house for phone, cable and network—all by myself. I prefer to do things by myself. Ever try to fish a cable from an attic to a crawlspace—super hard to do alone,” he added, ending his puzzle affections on an informative note.
“Not to mention, intelligent, perceptive—likes his toys, but doesn’t play games. Musically and artistically creative…,” I tossed out, adding subtle bits of sarcasm.
Missing my sarcasm, he said, “I could do any work as long as the work challenges me creatively. I’m level headed—but I can be prone to frustration I’m told.”
Upping the sarcasm, I added, “Don’t forget, extremely loyal, a strong sense of responsibility, is sound, and healthy.”
“Now you’re making me sound like a pet dog.” We both laughed again. Switching gears, he said, “Lynn, for religion I used to think my views were Agnostic theism, but now I’m more Deism—but I kind of go back and forth.”
Head shake. What? “Uhm—no—explain please—I no understand dayiiizzzm or theeeizzzm,” I drew out, making sure I came off as stupid as I felt.
“Oops sorry. Agnostic theism—believes in the existence of at least one god, but believe the existence is unknown. Deism is also a belief in a god. Also, that the universe is a creation, and it has a creator, but is a belief that the god doesn’t interfere in the affairs of humans or and I quote, suspend the natural laws of the universe. But Deists will also reject paranormal events like prediction and miracles. How’s that?”
“Hello, hello, hello,” came Olivia’s voice from bottom of the stairs.
“Sounds like yer needed,” Derek said, obviously hearing her voice.
“Ya, dinner is probably ready.”
“Should let you go—but keep me in the loop. If you need The Cipher—just call.” He hung up, but his laughter still rang in my ear. Then I caught the sound of double footsteps racing up the stairs.
Bursting through the open bedroom door, the girls toppled in onto my bed. Outsmarting them I circled around off the bed to the doorway and darted out into the hall. But they were after me in hot pursuit. Descending the stairs, I could hear Olivia’s voice thundering from the kitchen.
“No running! One of you is going to wipe-out-down-those-stairs and I’m not going to help pick you up—do you hear me?!”
“Yes, Mom,” I mocked, sock-sliding across the linoleum into the kitchen followed by my pursuers, all three of us slamming into the counter. “What’s for dinner?” I asked for the collective, already aware of the pizza aroma in the air.
“Don’t any of you touch that pizza—until you wash your hands. Lynn yours are clean, but those two just got back from the barn,” Olivia said, placing her hands on her hips. “Both of you go.” She waved them off attempting to keep a straight face. Then pulling plates from the cupboards, she asked, “How was your day?” When she turned back to see my eyebrows raised so high they practically reached my hairline, she froze. She lowered the plates onto the countertop without breaking her gaze on me. “Quick tell me before the girls come back,” she whispered, turning her head to the side as if listening for the pitter-patter of eavesdroppers.
“Can’t—too much, but Mac and I found another clue—ssshhhh.” I placed a finger to my lips and leaned back to peek down the hall. “Mac’s Mom—like Vicki’s, is involved.” The girls picked that moment to come scurrying around the corner to the kitchen, clean and ready for pizza. “I’ll tell ya after dinner.” I winked.
“What-What? Tell you what?” asked little Miss Nosey, Rachel—Liv’s youngest.
“None of your bees-wax,” her mom told her. “Eat your dinner.”
I almost choked on my pizza hearing her momminess again, but I managed a smile and continued to devour my dinner.
They were the fastest pieces of pizza I think we’ve both ever ate. We left the girls sitting at the table to finish while the two of us headed out for a walk and private talk.
“Just going to go walk off the pizza, girls. Your dad will be home soon, leave him some pizza please. Back soon,” Olivia called out as she closed the front door behind us.
We circled the block a few times, enough that I could get everything out and Liv could ask her bazillion questions. “Mac’s mom indirectly led you to this old cookbook—a grimoire you called it, a magic cookbook? And it has a description of another one of the four? What are the chances of having both Mac and Vicki’s moms involved?” she questioned me. Not like I had any flipp’n answer for her. Questions, questions, questions—mystery, mystery, mystery—whoosh.
“Ya, well, I called Derek to find out about the tree on the cover and I told him about the Cipher stuff—finally,” I said, as we rounded the sidewalk to the front door. “I also asked him to find out more about the other symbol too—the sword and snake thing from the book.”
“You mean a caduceus?” Olivia threw at me as she opened the front door.
The downy hairs on my arms spiked. I grabbed her hand, pulling on her and keeping her from entering the house. A slight electrical shock travel from my hand up the length of my arms straight to the back of my neck. Tingle. “What did you say?”
“Oh, let me show you.” She took my hand off her arm and yanked me forward through the door, then down the hall into the office. In the room there were boxes upon boxes overflowing with contents. “There...,” she said, pointing at a small pile. “... see, it’s a medical symbol. It’s on tons of Mum’s things—from her nursing days.” I stared at the stack of stuff, at the symbol, then turned my head to stare at her. “What… WHAT?!” she shrieked, already flipping out.
I pulled free of her grip, pivoted and headed back out of the office, and ran up the stairs to my room. I was feeling it, whatever it was—I was definitely feeling it again, that knowing sensation that screamed you’re on to something. The same something I’d had about the trunk and the cookbook. “Hold on!” I called down to her.
I was back with my notepad and the description of the woman. I grinned as I held up the pad for her to see. “Olivia—the last page has the caduceus on it and the description that followed ended with, She is the Mother Goddess, The Healer, and she carries the Caduceus of Healing.”
“Give me that,” she screeched, snatching the notepad from my hands. As she read her eyes became glassy and her eyebrows rose. “Uuhhhmmm, this is Mum—this description… it’s my mother.” Her voice trailed to a whisper as she glanced up at me and then back down at the paper again.
“Olivia… you’re sure—really sure?” I asked, uncertain what to do at this point. It had to be true. I slid into the office chair, I needed to sit down, needed to fully grasp and get a grip.
“Every word—it’s her, right down to her grandmother abandoning the husband and daughter. That daughter is Mum’s mom—my Nan,” she responded, slumping down on to a box next to me.
“How about we review everything here with the medical symbols on it, okay?” I said, getting up and stepping towards the stack of her mom nursing things.
Olivia got up too and together we went through each item. We examined key chains, papers, a mouse pad, and everything that had some rendition of the symbol, but we found nothing helpful. Nothing to indicate something like what was found with the other, and nothing that gave me the tingles either.
“Are you sure there isn’t anything else of your mom’s with this symbol somewhere—anywhere?” I asked. My frustration was hitting a new high. Someone or something was pointing the way, but at the same time throwing down roadblocks.
“That’s everything,” she countered, exhausted, dropping herself back down on a nearby box.
And then the words came. “The desk—show me the desk!” I demanded, practically dragging her from the room. “Where is it?”
Not saying a thing, Olivia moved to lead the way into the basement. At the bottom step, she pointed to the far end of the room, to a very, very old roll-top desk. Without hesitation, we were on it, going through all the drawer and cabinets.
“I’ve never been able to open this part,” Olivia said, pointing to a small shallow drawer in the roll-top part. “It looks like a drawer, but there’s no handle or knob.” She stood back glaring at the desk with similar frustration you associate to that of a flat tire.
“Let me call Derek back,” I said, dashing off to get my phone.
I bounded up the two flights of stairs, cornered the doorway and grabbed my phone off the bedside table. I dialed and two rings in he answered.
“I haven’t done anymore looking into the snake and sword thing…,” he tried to say, but I cut him off.
“It’s a medical symbol—but I need your help with something else.”
“Cipher to the rescue—whatcha got for me?”
Still out of breath from scaling the stairs, I panted out, “It’s a desk, roll-top—super old. There’s a small drawer—or what looks like a drawer, but it doesn’t have a visible way to open it—no handle or anything.” I grabbed my notepad from off my tote. Listening now, I ran back down the stairs to where Olivia and the desk were waiting.
As Derek clacked away on his keyboard and I waited for his findings, Olivia tried to pry the thing open with a butter knife.
“Got it,” he said in my ear. “The drawer has a pressure point. Press up-under and forward to get it to slide out.”
“Olivia stop,” I said, still holding the phone to my ear. I used my free hand to pull Olivia’s knifed hand away from the desk. “Derek says you have to push up on the bottom of the drawer and at the same time slide the thing forward.” I tapped the underside of the drawer to make sure she got what I was saying.
Without a word, Olivia put down the small knife, and then followed the instruction. Olivia gasped as she maneuvered the drawer out of its slot.
“She’s got it open,” I told him.
Olivia glanced at me and smiled, but then she kicked the side of the desk, pissed-off possibly because it hadn’t shown her the way sooner. With the drawer open now, we both peered in. “There’s a key,” we said in unison.
“Key?” Derek asked through the phone.
Olivia reached in and took out the key. “There’s no keyhole... for that type of key... in this desk,” Olivia said, pressing her lips together in disappointment. Blowing out a burst of air, she shook her head frustrated.
I was worried she’d start with the head-bobbing again, but she’d only continued the shaking—no nodding this time, not that it was better.
“Derek. Olivia says the key won’t fit any of the keyholes on this thing,” I said, holding back my confusion and frustration.
“What year is the desk?” he queried, sounding as though he might already have an answer.
I bumped Olivia with my elbow to get her attention. “He wants to know what year the desk is—any idea?”
As if feeding the memory fire in her head, she said, “Well… it’s Nan’s desk. Must be late 1800s I figure.” She started with her head-bobbing routine again.
Good grief. With an eye-roll, I relayed the info back to Derek hoping to move this quest along.
With barely a pause, he said, “Okay….” I overheard more clacking noise, fingers on a keyboard. “Can you see the right side of the desk?” I could hear the excitement building in his voice.
“No—side is against the wall, why?” I asked.
