Antiquities Mills is located on the north side of the Miami River, with convenient access to the Danner Avenue hover line. The restaurant is the last vestige of a golf course that was converted to a public cemetery and park over one hundred years ago. I was very near to this spot once when I gave a guest lecture at the University of Dayton. I wonder if Garai sat in the audience.
Garai has created a perfect cover for his Christian organization. The production of linen naturally creates “waste” fiber that can’t be used for making cloth, but can be easily converted into paper. Unlike with farming, the machines don’t weigh the input and output of the factory; so as long as fabrics keep going out the front door, nobody is concerned with how little waste is going out the back.
Like a Four safe house, Garai has chosen a spot surrounded by trees; so Martha, Cindi, and I get comfortable among the branches and wait as dusk approaches. The plant is highly automated, so just a dozen or so employees are able to turn out tons of fabric. It could be done with even fewer; so my guess is that half or more of his employees are actually making paper as a labor of love.
“There he is,” Cindi says.
Garai has emerged from the building by himself, and is walking towards the hover bus stop.
“He’s shorter than you’d think from only seeing him on a screen,” Martha says.
We parallel his course, staying under the cover of the trees. Since we don’t know where he lives, our only option is to jump onto the bus with him at the last moment. If he has bodyguards, they’re hidden very well.
“What timing,” Cindi says from behind me.
I look through the trees and see that a bus is about to reach the stop. There’s no way we can close the distance before Garai boards the bus and it glides away. Garai has one foot raised to climb aboard, when he miraculously changes his mind and backs away.
He taps his com.
“I’m going to grab a bite to eat, and then go back to the office for a bit.”
Garai wears a com?
We stay in the trees and watch as the bus glides away. Garai crosses the hover line; then walks straight towards the restaurant where he met my parents for the last time.
“Hungry?” I ask Martha and Cindi. “Or do we meet him at the office later?”
“Definitely the restaurant. We don’t know what security he has in his building,” Cindi says.
We quickly catch Garai and walk just ten meters behind him. Remarkably, he doesn’t look back in the half a kilometer that we follow him. As he reaches the door, Cindi instinctively splits off and takes up a position where she can watch the building and warn of us trouble. The door slides to one side automatically; so Garai doesn’t even look back as he enters. When she sees him, the hostess smiles in a way that indicates he’s a regular fixture here.
“Get a private table and remove your com,” I say from behind.
His body stiffens, but he doesn’t turn as he removes his com.
“Of course, Cephas. I always love having guests at my table.”
He calmly makes the request of the hostess, then turns to face me.
“Ah. The lovely Martha is here as well. You’re even prettier in person than you are by video.”
When we’re seated and left alone, Garai begins.
“It is so good to know you are both alive,” he says. “When Bethany House was destroyed, everyone feared the worst. Did it take you this long to walk here from Virginia?”
“We took a couple of side trips before we got here. What do your sources say about the plague situation?”
“The toxin exposure on this continent is limited to the water in McIntosh for now; but there are air tankers full of the stuff, waiting for the command to go airborne. The vaccine is being distributed all over the hemisphere. It is still being tightly controlled. The government is hoping for complete vaccination of eligible citizens in about two weeks. I stand to lose forty to fifty percent of my members if we can’t find a way to get them vaccinated.”
Garai stops speaking as the waitress approaches. There are automated service systems that could do the work, but apparently Garai pays for V.I.P. treatment.
“Appetizer?” Garai asks us pleasantly.
“Just water for me. Eating in this restaurant has never agreed with my family,” I say.
Garai gets an angry look, and asks the waitress for more time.
“Why are you here?” he asks.
“Henry is desperately looking for a page that was ripped from my father’s notebook just before the tube accident.”
“And you think I have it because I saw your parents that night?” he asks.
“It’s not impossible,” I reply. “But mostly I want to know what was being discussed in that meeting.”
“Your parents’ group was volatile, and dangerous. They all wanted to develop the toxin, but there was great disagreement regarding what to do with it. The factions ranged from simply using it as a bargaining chip to negotiate for religious freedom, to destroying the world and starting over with a few million believers. Your parents were the key leaders, and yet they stayed strangely silent the entire night. I took it as a sign that their minds were already set on releasing the toxin.”
Or maybe they were figuring out where everyone stood.
“From here, the group was going to Philadelphia to meet with Aislin to seek her guidance and, more importantly, her financial support,” Garai continues. “It was clear to me that a civil war was erupting inside their group, and I wanted no part of it. On the other hand, both Aislin and I hoped to gain some important new members when the dust settled.”
“You both also stood to gain some powerful new rivals. So instead of the dust settling, they ended up splattered along a tube wall. That’s pretty convenient.”
“I have heard the rumors suggesting I caused the accident. My uncle and I did not jump off the tube car at the last moment, as the legend suggests. When your parents group left, we sat here long into the night discussing the dangers of repeating the mistakes of the Final Holy War. I was in favor of a selective release of the toxin in Washington, D.C. to kill the atheist leaders; but my uncle wanted nothing to do with your parents - or their toxin.”
“So, you just sat here, sipping red wine. That proves nothing. You could have easily ordered someone else to sabotage the tube car.”
“I’m sorry for your loss, Cephas, but we have all suffered losses. My uncle was among the first to disappear, due to your work on electronic surveillance at the F.B.I. Frankly, Cephas, your family’s contribution to religion seems to be to end it once and for all. The government is suppressing it on the news, but the survivors from Bethany are popping up everywhere and baptizing people. The government is calling it a massive suicide cult, since many are refusing vaccination, once they’ve been baptized. There are even rumors that there is water you blessed, which people believe will protect them, and that you told them to avoid the vaccine. So you can see - from my perspective - you are simply the second generation of your family to create a suicide cult.”
“I never forbade anyone to take the vaccine. Everyone must make their own choice on that,” I reply.
“It is insane. Four will be wiped out, along with millions of others. Is that what you want? A mass Christian suicide?”
His voice is becoming raised.
“Henry is now the one who looks sane,” Garai continues. “He’s even offering his vaccine to everyone in McIntosh, just end the violence.”
“It’s not my will to be done that I’m praying for, Garai. It’s that God’s will be done,” I reply.
“Then you are insane. When you came back from the Travelers Initiative, I thought you were sent by God to save us. I was ready to follow you into any battle you ordered; but now I see you are just like your parents. You would destroy us all instead. I thought you were a fresh start for Christianity where we could finally be free.”
I’m lost in thought and no longer listening to Garai, until he starts to yell.
“What are you going to do when the toxin is airborne? Is praying your only plan for when that happens? A lot of good that is going to do. I’ve been thinking about my own plan of action, and now I know exactly what I have to do to save my people.”
And I bet I know what your plan is. I’m not the only one wrestling with God. Garai’s disobedience seems to be part of His plan too.
I stand to leave, and Martha follows. I turn and stare him directly in the eyes.
“Whatever you’re going to do, Garai, do it quickly.”
*****
We leave the restaurant and walk back to the bus stop in silence. I’m surprised to see a half-dozen people waiting at the stop, and even more aboard the bus; so we say nothing about our meeting with Garai. Two of the men who entered the bus with us seem to be casually watching us; so I motion to Martha and Cindi to exit at the next stop. One of the men follows us off, but the other stays on board.
Martha and Cindi sense my concern, and Cindi wordlessly splits from the group and takes up a position behind him.
“Hold on, there’s a rock in my shoe,” I say, and stop next to a large tree.
I bend down to remove my shoe, leaving the man no way to attack me without going through Martha, with Cindi just a few steps behind. He keeps on walking, but as he passes, a piece of folded paper drops from his hand, which I pick up.
Cindi continues to follow him for a block, then stops while we catch up.
“What was that all about?” Cindi asks, as I unfold the paper.
“It’s a handwritten note instructing us to get onto a private tube car at the local station, nothing else,” I say, as I read it.
“It sounds like a trap,” Cindi says.
“Maybe,” I reply. “It’s car 314X and the X is written in the style of the ancient Greek letter Chi. Whoever is inviting us is subtle, but knows how to make me curious. I doubt Henry could muster that much subtlety.”
When we reach the station, the man who followed us is standing at the car door with a welcoming smile on his face.
“Aislin said you would come,” he says, and ushers us inside.
The car is laid out similarly to Henry’s Bureau car, but is more tastefully decorated. Aislin is at a large table in the central dining area, and stands as we enter the room. She’s even more striking in person than she was over video, and yet there’s something different about her. Something has changed.
“I always knew you were clever, Dr. Paulson, but I had no idea just how clever,” she says. “It took me years to find Garai, and apparently you did it in a matter of hours.”
“Speaking of clever, you found us pretty easily.”
I take a seat at the table.
“It wasn’t clever at all. I keep Garai under surveillance and you walked right in front of my people; so I simply capitalized on an opportunity. What I would like to know is why you found Garai, and what you talked about.”
“Garai was one of the last people to see my parents alive. I needed to ask him about the meeting they all attended.”
“I don’t imagine he finally confessed to the murder.”
Aislin favors us with a coy smile - a look which she’s very good at giving.
I once again marvel at how striking Aislin is in appearance. On anyone else, the blue eyes combined with the otherwise dark features would make me think she’s enhanced, but she isn’t. When you combine those features with this smile I’m seeing for the first time…
Wait. The smile. Her teeth have somehow been enhanced. They virtually glow.
“Have you noticed that you and I share the peculiar habit of asking questions to which we already know the answers?” I ask.
I laugh and shake off the fact that Aislin has an enhancement.
“Let’s skip the rest of the gamesmanship, Aislin. Why’d you ask us here?”
Aislin looks up at her bodyguard and dismisses him with a nod of her head, then looks at Martha and Cindi to indicate they should leave as well.
“Whatever you tell me, I’ll just tell them later.”
“I know; but this may be the only time we ever meet in person. Please permit me this request.”
There’s something about the sudden gentleness in her voice that tells me to relent. I think perhaps I need to hear what she has to say, even more than she needs to say it.
I smile and nod to Martha, and she and Cindi depart.
Aislin stands and begins to pace.
“Don’t ask how, but I know about some of the conversation you had with Garai in the restaurant. He said one thing that expressed my feelings perfectly. When you returned from time travelling, we both thought you were sent to lead us. We thought you were the flashpoint for a public uprising that would result in heads literally on platters. When you made it clear that a Christian theocracy would be as bad as the current atheist theocracy, I was furious. I was ready to burn you - and all of Four - to the ground to prove my way was best.”
“Are you saying something has changed your mind?”
“I listened to you. I listened to every lecture and every chat group discussing your lectures. I read your books and even the classified reports about you that I could obtain. Then I read my Bible, and I prayed for wisdom. Through it all, there was one thing you said that I could never get out of my mind. You called our world a ‘man-made Garden of Eden’. The more I searched my soul, the more clearly I could see that Garai and I are just repeating the same mistakes. We wanted to appoint ourselves as God’s chosen leaders, but the truth is we’d just be creating another flawed garden made by man, and leading people away from the real one.”
“I’m glad,” I say.
“We still have to get back to real religious freedom, but it won’t be by me forcing it through an uprising and takeover of the government,” she says.
“It’ll be a pleasure to have you at our sides.”
I smile as I say it, but Aislin sighs.
“Why the sigh?”
Aislin closes her eyes.
“I don’t deserve your trust. Even after I knew the truth, I couldn’t find the faith necessary to refuse my dose of the vaccine. I’m marked.”
She sighs again, as tears roll down her face.
“It will be easy for God to separate me from the truly faithful. It’s written in my DNA.”
“If you pray for another chance, I’m sure you’ll find that He gives them - even when you don’t think you deserve one.”
“Thank you, Cephas, but not everyone gets a fresh start.”
A fresh start? How strange that both Garai and Aislin would use the same expression … unless… That would certainly fit the puzzle. Why didn’t I see it before?
*****
“Where to now?” Martha asks, as we sneak into the cargo tube bay.
“I don’t know. Wherever looks good.”
I it say absent-mindedly as I sort through details in my head. What I can only assume is God’s plan for me is coming together in my mind. I know what I need to do, even if I’m continuing to deny it.
“Cephas, I’ve seen that look in your eyes before. What’s going on?” Martha asks.
“It’s all starting to make sense.”
“Care to let us in on this piece of the puzzle?”
“Which one? There are puzzles within puzzles. Everyone assumes that my parents wanted to release the toxin; but now I’m sure they were out to destroy it - and everyone who knew about it. Unfortunately, their plan failed and it ended up in Henry’s hands instead. They knew the page was too dangerous to keep, but instead of destroying it, they chose to hide it away. At first it seemed like they did it so I’d one day find it and know they were innocent in attempting genocide. Now it seems more like God did it to provide me a way to distract Henry.”
Just then, the screen on the wall that had been running the cargo schedule lights up with an image of my Aunt Jennifer.
“They’re still running those stupid announcements from your Aunt Jennifer, telling everyone that time travel made you mentally ill,” Cindi says.
No. This one looks different.
The voice portion has not been changed. Most people will assume it’s the same announcement they’ve seen a hundred times and ignore it. In fact, it was designed to be ignored by everyone except its intended target: Me. The change is barely perceptible, but I notice the camera angle is different, and the shot is slightly wider.
“Whoever made it should know better than to shoot down like that. It makes it hard for the viewer to make proper eye contact with your aunt, and to personally connect with her and her message,” Cindi says.
The down angle allows me to see the top of the desk where Aunt Jennifer sat as the video was shot. I recognize it instantly as the ancient desk she loved so much when I was a child. I wasn’t allowed to touch that desk, or anything on it. When she reaches the final pitch of: “Wherever you are, please contact me so I can help you,” she leans backward slightly, and I see what I was meant to see.
“Find us a cargo tube to Chicago,” I say. “We’ve been invited to another family reunion.”