ARCANA Chapter 22 by William James Johnson

The party which followed the landing in Seattle took place in the crew lounge of the International airport. John and Shelley happily joined the others in the celebration of their safe arrival. As the beer loosened their inhibitions, they relived every moment of the treacherous flight.

Ron was delighted with Shelley's show of appreciation. She was a toucher when she spoke. Again John felt twinges of jealousy. He didn't know why he was feeling this way about her. Maybe it was because she had shared such intimate secrets with him. Or maybe he really wanted someone like Shelley to take Sandra's place.

"That was one helluva close call." said Ron emptying another beer.

"We were ready in the back if you had crashed," said Shelley, trying to draw John into the conversation.

"There's no way you can get ready for a crash in the mountains. Believe me, I've lost some good friends who pushed too hard flying in that country."

"I don't see why you didn't stay over," said John. "That was a bitch of a flight."

"Like I told you. Arctic weather can ground you for weeks, not days. We took a chance and we made it. Drink up, John. We made it, for Chrissake!"

"I appreciate what you guys did for us. I'm just as glad as you are that we came out of it okay. But if you don't mind, I'm going to check out of this party and go over to Transcontinental and arrange for our flight to Washington. Are you coming, Shelley?"

"Don't be a party pooper, John. You go get the tickets and let us enjoy Shelley for awhile."

"What about it, Shelley?"

"Excuse me for a few minutes, fellows," said Shelley, smiling, as she took John by the arm. They moved away from the crew.

"I know you're going to hate me for saying this but..."

"But you want to stay with those guys. Right?"

"Right...Don't be angry, John. I think it's better this way."

"I'm not mad. You want to have a party, have a party. I won't stop you. Just tell me when you think we should head for home."

"I'm not going back with you."

"What? What the hell do you mean?"

"You know if I go back, they'll probably send me to the Gulag for leaving the drilling rig. And uncle Alex will get in trouble too. I can't do that to him."

"What about me? Don't you care how I feel?"

"John. You're back in civilization. Isn't that what you wanted? Tomorrow you'll be in Washington. I can't go back. It's too much of a risk."

"I can't believe this. I thought you said you cared for me."

"I do care for you. But we're too different. It would never work, and besides you know how I feel about men. I can't help it. It's just the way I am."

"So now it's Hunter you're after. I should tell the poor bastard what he's in for."

"Now you're sounding like a petty teenager. Let it be the way it is."

"What's going to happen to you?"

"I can take care of myself. I always have."

He kissed her gently on the cheek and waved to the others. Shelley smiled and returned to her small group.

The ticket counter for Transcontinental was across a wide promenade in the air terminal. It was only 7 AM and the passenger area was almost empty. A few scattered uniformed workers from the night shift moved lazily between the rows of seats picking up discarded newspapers and candy wrappers. Sprawled across three seats were travellers whose flights had been delayed, trying to catch a few winks.

At the ticket counter, a short agent with a well trimmed moustache, coiffed hair and dressed in a crisp airline tunic was busy stamping several vouchers as John waited for service. "When you're through there, I'd like to get a ticket."

"I will be with you shortly, sir. Please be patient."

John took a closer look at what he was doing and realized the agent was prestamping baggage checks. He resented being made to wait for some lackey who was trying to inflate the importance of his job.

"Look, why don't you do that after you sell me a ticket?"

The short, slightly pudgy man, became petulant. "Can't you see I'm not finished yet? I told you to be patient."

He reached across the counter and grabbed the ticket agent by the jacket. "I want the next flight to Washington DC and I want it now. Cut out that crap with the baggage tickets and do as I say."

"Well...I never..."

John passed him his Noramoil credit card and the agent finished the transaction. Turning around from the counter, he saw Shelley at the entrance door. She was leaving with the four aircrew. He felt like shouting, but decided he had caused enough excitement for one morning.

Slowly he walked into the terminal cafeteria which was packed with travellers and airport employees having that last bun and coffee before starting a new day. There was only one seat available as he scanned the restaurant. A young woman with a little pre-school girl was sitting at a round table in the corner. He carried his tray loaded with a danish and coffee and approached them.

"Mind if I sit with you?"

"Not at all. Please do."

"Really crowded."

"Sometimes you have to wait in line just to get a place to sit."

"I can see that. Where are you heading?"

"Jill and I are going to Kansas to meet my husband."

"You live in Kansas?"

"Not really. Duke's been there for the past five years and he gets out tomorrow."

"Gets out?"

"He's paid his debt."

"I don't understand."

"Where have you been? Everyone knows the coal Gulag is in Kansas. Duke was busted for trafficking. It was before Jill was born."

"I've been away myself. For fifteen years to be exact."

"Were you busted too?"

"Naw. I've been up north. On an oil rig."

"For fifteen years?"

"Almost. I never realized what a problem the drug thing had become."

"It's terrible. We've been living with my parents in Seattle while Duke's been away. You wouldn't believe how bad it's been in our neighbourhood. There's not a person who hasn't had his home broken into, or been mugged at some time for the money he was carrying. It really is terrible."

"How about yourself. Are you a user?"

"Never. I've accepted Christ as my personal saviour. There's no way I would pollute myself with that poison. Our bodies are the tabernacle of the Holy Spirit. With God's help, I hope I can bring Duke to salvation."

"That's nice. I hope you and your husband will be happy."

He finished his coffee and left her smiling about her future. He wondered why people had become so extreme. There was Shelley who was looking for the next guy to try between her legs, and the ticket agent whose dull routine would drive the normal person up the walls, trying to bring a sense of importance to his role. And now this pleasant woman, born again, trusting in the unknown to solve all her problems. Their lives were two dimensional like a television sitcom. He sat alone in the terminal under a digital schedule which indicated his flight east would be departing in an hour and a half.

He wondered how he would make contact with Thorpe. Maybe it would be better if he arranged to meet him through Chief Justice Blackbird. That was a better approach. He could tell the judge about his daughter. Surely he must be worried if the General had notified him of her escape. That's it. He would get at Thorpe through the judge.

He shut his eyes and again saw the bouncing blonde hair of Shelley as she left with the four men. It hurt to think of her and what she would be doing with them. Then Shelley changed into Sandra. He remembered the time on the Nobile when she came into the shower with him. Her trust in his leadership had kept him going. He wasn't a leader. He was just a frightened middle aged man wanting to do something worthwhile with his life before it ended. He was surprised that he had the courage to risk so much.

The announcement over the PA system notified the passengers to enter lounge "B" to prepare for boarding Transcontinental 415 direct to the nation's capital. John had changed into a sports jacket and slacks which he had purchased on his Noramoil credit card. He was amazed how this piece of plastic made life so easy. The bank in the terminal had advanced him a thousand dollars on this card alone.

There was a lot of room on the jumbo jet. He could sit wherever he chose. The ticket agent had given him a seat near the mid-ship galley, but he didn't want to spend the next five hours watching stewards hustle meals. No one was using the seats in the forward compartment behind the pilot's cabin. The stewardess let him get comfortable here where there was more leg room. He fastened his safety belt and drifted off to sleep.

He had no idea how exhausted he had become after struggling through the storm, having the beers with the boys and then waiting in the airport. He was awakened by an attractive stewardess tapping him on the shoulder.

"Sorry to disturb you, sir, but we'll be landing at Dulles International in twenty minutes."

John looked at his watch; it was two o'clock in the afternoon.

"Two o'clock. Is that right?"

"That was Seattle time sir. It's six p.m., Washington time." He changed his watch and tugged at the stewardess again.

"Have I got time to freshen up before we land?"

"Yes, sir. If you hurry."

He entered the small washroom and opened his toiletries case and took out his new electric razor. Feeling the bristle on his chin, he soon had himself looking human again. The cool water on his face finally woke him up. He brushed his teeth and combed his hair. In his opinion he looked quite distinguished. As he finished there was a tap on the washroom door.

"Please return to your seat, sir. We'll be landing shortly."

"Thanks. I'll be right out."

The stewardess, who had been so helpful, fastened her seat belt in the seat next to him after checking that everyone was ready for landing.

"Been with the airlines long?"

"Eleven years."

"Like it?"

"Used to. Now it's just another job. Let's face it, I'm just a glorified waitress."

"Why do you keep at it then?"

"Good pay. Lots of time off. Meet nice people. Those are all pretty good reasons."

"Married?"

"Not anymore. I was married to a pilot, but he got busted bringing in heroin from Bangkok. He's doing time in Alaska."

"Seems like this drug thing is everywhere."

"Tell me about it. It's ruining a lot of people."

"You ever try it?"

"I've smoked a joint once in awhile, but I wouldn't dare try anything else."

"How's that?"

"I've seen what it can do to people. There's no way I want to mess up my life like that."

They felt the giant airplane touch down. Surging forward, they pressed against their belts as the pilot selected reverse pitch. She unfastened her belt and stood in the aisle of the aircraft with a microphone in her hand.

"Please remain in your seats with your belts on until the aircraft comes to a full stop."

"Does this mean you're through for the day?"

"Yes. I put in twelve hours so far on this aircraft."

"When was that?"

"We came by way of Anchorage Alaska. Now I've got the next few days off before I have to do it all over again."

"What's your name?"

"Sue. Susan Pritchard. And you?"

"John Robins. Nice talking to you, Susan. See you again sometime."

"What are you doing tonight?"

"Nothing until I get a place to stay."

"Look, if you don't think I'm being too pushy, why don't you meet me outside the crew lounge in about an hour? We could go back to my place. Maybe I could help you get settled."

"Hey that's terrific. You're sure it wouldn't be too much trouble?"

"I wouldn't ask you, if I thought there was going to be trouble."

He couldn't get over how easy it was to make connections with women, and he an old crock at that. Things certainly had changed since he went on the Nobile voyage.
He felt very rested after his long sleep coming across the country. At the baggage conveyor, he waited for his new luggage to appear. Grabbing the calf skin bag, he slung it over his shoulder and went looking for the Transcontinental crew lounge.

The terminal at Dulles was packed. Men with brief cases and expensive luggage came from everywhere to the nation's capital. There was a mixed, cosmopolitan dress. Indians in saris and Arabs in full regalia merged in the grand concourse. There were more people in uniform then he had remembered. The illuminated sign in the ceiling pointed to the crew lounge. Checking his watch, he grabbed a seat, and waited for Susan.

The time went quickly. Several of the crew came out, but his new friend did not appear. He checked his watch again. Growing impatient, he stood up, and carrying his luggage, went towards the lounge door.

It opened, and out came Susan, dressed in a bright cocktail dress, carrying a nylon uniform bag over her arm. "I hope you didn't get tired waiting. I thought I might as well change here."

She was of medium height, with a small bust and comfortable hips. Her legs were not heavy for a person who stood up all the time. She had a very attractive face and a marvellous smile which was contagious. Her hair was short and barely touched her shoulders. He was delighted to see she had changed.

"You look great. It was well worth the wait."

"Hungry?"

"Starved. I haven't eaten since this morning."

"I didn't want to wake you for dinner. You looked so peaceful."

"Well you pick the place. I don't know Washington at all."

They reached her car and went to the famous Watergate Hotel where Susan maintained a small apartment. He could tell she had made a lot of money over the years working for the airline. The furniture and accessories were the ultimate in chic.

"This is lovely. You've done very well for yourself. Must have cost a fortune."

"I didn't do it by myself. Paul liked nice things. That's why he got mixed up in the drug business. I think a lot of people get messed up the same way. Want everything they see. There's a pile of money to be made in drugs, believe me, I know."

"Are you and Paul divorced?"

"We are now. I didn't want to. But he insisted. They gave him twenty years. He didn't think it was fair for me to wait."

"Twenty years. Gawd, that seems heavy."

"He had two million dollars in heroin on him when he was picked up. One of the stewards was a plant on the far eastern flight. The government's been doing a lot of that lately. I don't think it's going to stop it though."

"Why not?"

"It's like smoking and drinking used to be. Everyone wants to get high. They aren't going to quit just because their government threatens them. I'm afraid we're stuck with it."

"Look Sue, if you don't mind. I'd rather not talk about this sort of thing. I find it depressing. I'd rather talk about some nice place where we can have a good supper, and get to know each other better."

"I thought you said you liked my apartment. Isn't this nice enough for you?"

"Of course. It's great. But you've been working hard all day. I'd like to do something special for you."

"That's sweet. Been awhile since someone did anything special for me...There's a good restaurant on the penthouse floor. Expensive."

"Sounds like just what I'm looking for."

"After dinner we'll come back here."

"I like it."

"Me too."

The supper in André's Steak House on the penthouse floor was superb. John thanked God for plastic money. With his Noramoil card there was nothing he couldn't have.
It was hard to believe he was here with such a lovely looking woman sharing intimate secrets after knowing each other for only a few hours. It had been the same with Shelley. He was beginning to think maybe this was the way people were now. They shared their secrets then moved on.

"Are you like this with all the lonely guys you meet on your flights?"

"Not really."

"Why do you think guys hit on stewardesses like that?"

"I think they've always believed we are sex fiends who'll sleep with anyone. It just isn't true. Oh I suppose there are some girls who take advantage of guys who are far from home. But not many. Don't you think men fantasize about making it with a good looking girl in a strange town?"

"I think the uniform also has something to do with it. If the guy lucks in with an attractive stewardess who looks sharp in her uniform, he feels like he's also getting back at the establishment. Something like that."

"Your way is too complicated. I think its much simpler. After watching a woman all day during their trip, they'd like to make more of it. If they're alone, and many business men travel alone, they daydream about what it would be like having some romance in their life, and the hard working stewardess is the one they focus on. But I can assure you, most of the time we're so tired after a long flight, we just want to get to our hotels and go to bed."

"How come you asked me to come back with you?"

"I liked your face, your friendliness. You said you didn't have a place to stay. I wasn't sure you would agree to come back with me, so I took a chance. Why? Are you disappointed?"

"I'm delighted. Any guy would be. You're lovely Susan. I'm not used to women picking me up...wait that's not the way I meant to say that...you know what I mean."

"I think I do. Picking you up, sounds cheap. I assure you that wasn't my intention."

"I know. And I'm sorry if I said it the wrong way. It's just that women have changed since I've been away. They're now more aggressive than I remember. More open."

"I don't remember it any other way."

"I kind of like it. It's more honest I think."

"How about you being honest with me. Tell me where you've been that's so different."

"Okay. I will. As soon as we get back to your place."

They returned to her small apartment, and got comfortable. She sat opposite him when he began his lengthy story of the Nobile adventure, and was in his arms when he finished. She was dead tired from her exhausting flight, but she wouldn't let him stop. She wanted to hear the whole story. When he described the death of Sandra, Susan wept against his chest, and he felt a hard lump forming in his throat. It was difficult not to cry with her.

"Oh John. This is the most fantastic story I've ever heard."

"Well it's true. Every word of it. Now I've got to get to the President and tell him all about it."

"That's going to be very difficult. No one can get near Thorpe since the assassination attempts. The druggies have been trying to get rid of him ever since the New York riots. How do you expect to do it?"

"I thought I'd go through the Chief Justice."

"Blackbird. I know him. He's flown with us several times. He's quite a lady's man. He likes young fellows too."

"How well do you know him?"

She went to her handbag and took out a small black leather book, and fingered the pages. "Here it is. His unlisted phone number. He told me once if I ever needed any help, to call him."

"I can't believe it."

"Don't be so surprised. I'll bet every stewardess, and probably many of the stewards have Blackie's unlisted number."

"Have you ever used it?"

"Never wanted to. Would you like me to call him now?"

John looked at his watch. It was almost midnight. "Maybe we should wait until tomorrow."

"The guy's a nighthawk. If he's home, let's try to get him."

"Whatever you say. You know the man better than I do."

"I've never dated him. But I know he would like to go out with me. He's tried often enough. He's just not my type."

She picked up the phone and dialled. It rang three times before it was answered.

"Hello."

"Judge Blackbird, please."

"The judge cannot be disturbed. Please call in the morning."

"Tell the judge I've got news about his daughter."

There was a pause and the sonorous voice of Judge Blackbird was heard on the phone.

"Who is this?"

"Sue Pritchard your honour. Transcontinental stewardess."

"Is this some kind of joke? I don't know any stewardesses. How did you get this number?"

"Please don't hang up. There's someone here who has a message for you from your daughter, Shelley."

John took the phone from Susan.

"Judge Blackbird, I'm John Robins and I was with Shelley up north."

"She's not up north."

"I know sir, and I can tell you where she is, if you can do something for me."

"I'm listening."

"I must see the President. It's extremely important."

"So what do you want from me?"

"I want you to arrange it for me. I can't do it myself."

"When would you like to see him?"

"The sooner, the better. Will you help me?"

"I'll call his White House assistant. It'll be up to them. What did you say you're name was again?"

"Just tell Mr. Thorpe that John Robins, the pilot of Airship Nobile, has a very important message for him."

"Nobile!...Wasn't that the dirigible that went to the Arctic several years ago?"

"That's the one, sir."

"And if I do this, you'll tell me about Shelley?"

"I promise."

"Give me your number, and I'll get back to you first thing in the morning."

John read out Susan's number. Hanging up the phone he grabbed her and hugged her.
"I can't believe it. He's going to help me get in to see the President. And it's all because I met you. You wonderful, sweet lady."

"I'm glad John. I hope this'll make all the suffering you have gone through worthwhile."

"It will...I know it will. Oh Susan, I'm so happy."

"I'm happy for you too." She tried to stifle a yawn. "But I've just got to go to bed before I drop. I've been up for the last thirty hours. It was your fantastic story that kept me going. So if you don't mind, I'm going to bed."

"Where do you want me to sleep?"

"I'll get some blankets for you. You can use the chesterfield."

"Just show me where they are. I can look after myself. You get to bed."

He kissed her softly on the cheek.

"Thanks Susan, for your help."

"If I wasn't so beat, you wouldn't get away with just a little peck on the cheek. See you in the morning."

He was tired too, but the thought that he would soon be telling his story to Thorpe kept the adrenalin flowing and he found himself rehearsing what he would say if Blackbird could get them together. Finally he stopped thinking and his mind turned off.

It was the smell of fresh perked coffee coming from the kitchen that woke him. Through sleepy eyes he saw the trim figure of his new friend in a transparent camisole, outlined by the morning sun coming in the balcony window.

"Tell me I'm not dreaming."

She smiled at him from the kitchen. "You're not dreaming. Why don't you have a shower while I get us some breakfast."

He stood beside the chesterfield in his shorts, folding the blankets he had used. He still had a firm body for a man in his late fifties. There was little hair on his legs and chest, and as he moved, Susan could see the strength in his buttocks.

"You look fantastic," he said as he went into the bathroom.

She heard the shower, and what passed for singing coming from a contented John Robins. She knew he was much older, but she felt comfortable with him. When he came back into the room, she could smell the fresh after shave lotion, and his body radiated energy through the light sport shirt he had put on. He had forgotten that winter was setting in.

"Smells good."

"You sure do," said Susan.

"I meant the breakfast."

She kissed him tenderly and pressed her small breasts against him.

"Hold that mood for me, until we get some of that bacon and eggs where it'll do some good."

She moved away from him for a moment and studied his handsome face. She touched his hair and the side of his cheek.

"You've got power, John."

"Power...what do you mean by that?"

"There's something about you that attracts people. I think that's why you've noticed women coming on to you."

They sat in the small dining area and began to eat. "If you say so."

"I mean it. There's something about you that makes a woman want to be a part of you."

"You're putting me on," he laughed.

"No. I'm serious. I think it's your strength. You don't give up. You're not like the others who went with you on the Nobile. They preferred to stay in the secure Domain, but you were willing to risk everything to bring back this truth."

"But Tuma, and André, and of course Sandra, came with me. I wasn't alone. I felt like quitting many times, believe me."

"But you didn't. That's where you're different. You wouldn't believe the number of wimps I meet in my travels, who try to pass as men. You're right about one thing. The world has changed. But I'm glad you're just the way you are."

He touched her hand softly. "I could get used to hearing things like that. You sure know how to make me feel good about myself."

Their conversation was interrupted by the ringing of the phone.

"Hello."

"Is John Robins there?

"Yes. Just a moment please. It's for you."

"Mr. Robins, it's Blackbird. My car will pick you up at ten o'clock and take you to the Oval Office. The President is looking forward to meeting with you. I'll expect you to fulfill our bargain after you have spoken with him. Do we have a deal?"

"We certainly do, your honour, and thanks."

"I'll be expecting your call this evening."

"You can count on it."

He hung up the phone and was all smiles.

"It's going to happen. I'm being picked up at ten o'clock. Oh Susan I'm so happy."

"Don't get your expectations too high darling. Thorpe is a real tyrant. Everyone thought Koster was a villain, but Gerald Thorpe makes him look like a saint. I hope he doesn't hurt you."

"How can he hurt me? We're only going to talk."

"Just be careful. You don't get to his position by being a nice guy. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you."

"Nothing's going to happen. Besides I couldn't have done it without you."

"That's what I mean. In a way I feel responsible."

"Well stop worrying. No matter what happens, I'm coming back to you. You're really special. There's so much that I like about you. You're independent, but you're caring. And I love how feminine you are, still you've got strength. And you're so goddamn good looking."

She took him by the hand and led him back to her bedroom. She had made up the bed before beginning the breakfast. Pulling him down beside her, her robe slipped open. She felt his hands caressing the tips of her tiny breasts.

"We've got more than an hour before you have to leave. Let's not waste it."

"I can assure you, dear one, the time I spend with you, is not wasted."

She was gentle in the beginning of their caressing, searching out those responsive zones which makes a man feel he is about to be electrocuted. There wasn't the driving lust he experienced with Shelley. Instead, there was a build up, then a rush to fulfilment, and a leisurely retreat to quiet enjoyment of the closeness of each other.

"You're wonderful. I knew you'd be like this. That's what all those women who have been pursuing you want. They want to share, not just be taken."

"Sue...Please don't think I'm crazy for saying this, but, you're the kind of woman I've spent my life searching for. Don't ask me how come it has happened this way. I just know it's for real."

His sincerity stirred her deeply. "I feel the same way about you, John. I know you're older than me, but honestly, it doesn't make any difference. Let me be your girl. I want to help you tell the world about Arcana. This is such a tremendous discovery, and you were so courageous in all your struggles. Please, John. You've got to let me help you."

He held her closely, inhaling the delicate fragrance of her love. "I can't believe this is happening to me. Of course I want you to be my girl. Together, we'll tell everyone about IAM's love. They'll see it in the way we love each other."

"How can two people, who have just met, feel so sure about each other?" asked Susan.

"This must be what IAM wants to happen to me. He wants me to share the secret, and he's giving me your love to strengthen my resolve. I'm so glad I didn't stay in Seattle like they asked me. I would never have met you. It's got to be IAM."

"We'd better get dressed and go down to the lobby. You're going to have to go to Thorpe soon."

They went down together, and waited for the black limousine, which arrived exactly at ten o'clock. She kissed him and wished him luck.

Driving to Pennsylvania Avenue he was shocked to see the concrete barricades mounted in front of Embassies and Public Buildings. The nation's capital seemed to be under siege. The park areas along the route were neglected. There was an air of decay about the place. The long dark marble Viet Nam monument had been desecrated with graffiti. He could feel his spirits ebbing as they turned into the circular drive.
Inside the building, a Marine frisked him for weapons, then asked him to pass through a metal detector. He was also being scanned by a video camera. He wondered if Thorpe was studying him on a screen in another room.

"Follow me, Mr. Robins."

He was taken down a corridor and entered a small anteroom. The soldier pointed him to a chair beside a heavily panelled wooden door.

"The PFL will be with you shortly sir."

He was surprised to see how austere the interior of the building was. Whatever had happened to the paintings and the sculpture? The door opened. Gerald Thorpe came out of his office and extended his hand.

"John Robins."

"That's right, Mr. President."

"Please come in."

His office was more like it; sumptuous upholstery on the Louis XIV furniture, and beautiful marble busts of Washington, and Jefferson, on ornate pedestals.

"What's this all about?"

"What do you mean, sir?"

"The Chief Justice says you claim to be John Robins, the pilot who flew the Nobile to the Arctic."

"That's correct, Mr. President. That's who I am."

"John Robins was killed in a terrorist attack on his dirigible over a superbowl game in Dallas about twelve years ago. It happened, after he returned with the others from the Arctic."

"Mr. Thorpe. That is precisely why I had to meet with you. The John Robins you are talking about was not the real person. I'm the real person."

"Are you crazy?"

"Sir, the people who came back from the north were Monads."

"What the hell is that?"

"They're a super race of creatures who live in the Domain. They're able to reproduce any material form, organic or inorganic. These creatures, after capturing us, and our airship, reproduced Monads in our likenesses."

"Wait a minute...back up...you said the Domain?"

"Yes sir, the Domain of IAM, the realm inside the earth which is really Paradise."

"Look. I don't know who you are, or what you're trying to pull, but I can't waste any more of my time talking nonsense."

"Gerald...don't you recognize me. I remember you. Back in Pozzuoli the night you came for the announcement of the crew of the Nobile. Remember Cardinal Vallenti. And your lovely wife...what's her name...Kathryn. She took over for you at the supper when you had to go to the hospital because Arnhem had a heart attack. Remember standing outside the SIC and watching Moysev vaporize the model of the Nobile...need I go on?"

Thorpe couldn't believe what he was hearing. Suddenly he knew, there was more to this wide eyed visitor than just a vivid imagination.

"You really are John Robins?"

"That's right, Mr. President."

"And you're telling me, you actually found an opening in the earth, and there were these strange creatures, these..."

"Monads."

"Right, Monads...And Koster. What happened to David?"

"He's there. He didn't want to return. Most of the crew stayed because it's so wonderful there...it's Paradise, believe me."

"And you. Why didn't you stay too, if it was so wonderful?"

"Because I felt the world had to know about Arcana, the holy secret."

"Which is?"

"That there is a Creator who loves man so much he is willing to let his creation reject him because he wants man to love him freely."

"But John...isn't that what man has always believed?."

"Believed, yes. But not known for sure. I know for sure, Gerald. I've been there, and I've come back. I have experienced what all men wish for. Now it is up to us to tell the whole world about Arcana."

"Sit down. Tell me all about it...the Domain, the Monads, Paradise...I want to hear the whole thing."

John was still briefing Thorpe when it was time for lunch. The President did not want to interrupt his visitor, so he had lunch brought in for them. As the afternoon wore on, a security Colonel knocked on the door to see for himself that everything was okay with his Commander-in-Chief. Thorpe thanked him for his concern, then asked him to be sure there were no more interruptions.

"What do you want me to do about all this?" asked Thorpe.

"The world has got to be told there is really a God and that he does reward the good and punish the wicked. If you don't tell them, everyone is going to end up in Photar's valley of light, burning for all eternity."

"But that's impossible. Who would believe me? They would think I've gone around the bend. No one talks about religion anymore. Haven't you seen what it's like out there? If I helped you we'd both be destroyed. There are all kinds of radicals who would love to seize power the moment I show any vulnerability.

"You have to tell them. The world must know the truth. Arcana, is the secret which will save mankind."

"There's no such thing as truth anymore."

"I don't understand."

"Truth has nothing to do with reality. Truth is whatever you want people to believe. If you say a lie often enough, it becomes the truth. That's the kind of world we are living in."

"But there's a way to prove what I have been saying is the truth. I know how we can make them believe."

"How?"

"Through the Monad duplicates who came back. Capture one and see for yourself. If we can get a surgeon to operate on one, you'll see. They have no internal organs. Monads get their energy directly from the sun. They don't need food like us earthlings. Wouldn't that be proof enough for you?"

"It would, if there were any Monads to capture."

"What do you mean?"

"Not one of the crew of the Nobile that came back from the Arctic is still alive.

They've all died, or disappeared."

"Even the Eskimo boy, Tuma, up at Baker Lake?"

"Yes, even Tuma. He was drowned in a hunting accident. Seems his father died the same way. No, I'm sorry, John, it looks as if you went through all that torment for nothing."

"But you can't leave it like that. People must be told."
"Then go tell them...but don't expect me to bail you out when they take you to the rubber room."

"Do you believe my story, Gerald?"

"Yes, I do. And you may find others who will believe you, but I wouldn't count on it. The world has changed. Koster wanted to control the minds of nations through behaviour modification, and we have achieved that, but we had to do it chemically. We've got our people under control. It's not perfect, but it is better than the chaos that came with the free-thinkers. I can't risk upsetting this progress by endorsing your incredible story. It's now up to you."

"And you're not going to do anything to help me."

"I can't. I have to be content with what works. That is truth enough for me. And if you want to avoid trouble, I suggest you keep this experience to yourself. I'm sorry, but that's the best I can do."

"I don't believe it...I've risked everything to bring the truth of Arcana to you, and you just turn your back on it."

"Am I so different from you. You admitted you turned your back on IAM. You forget my friend, we are still both humans. We are not like your Monads. We can still make choices, even if they drop us into Photar's fire, as you say."

"I'm so disappointed. I thought for sure, you of all people would want to tell the world this fantastic story."

"Consider yourself lucky John. You know the truth from experience. You don't have to accept it on blind faith. Live your life according to this experience. Others will see by your example, you are different. Who knows, you may even attract followers. This is the way your truth shall speak to the world. And now I must end this meeting. It was tremendously interesting, but I can do nothing about it."

He left the Oval Office with mixed feelings. The journey had been fulfilled, but his expectations had been frustrated. At least he had not turned him over to the authorities. Maybe Thorpe was right. Maybe the world could not handle the truth that its mythologies had a basis in fact. But he knew the truth. He had experienced it, and he had a wonderful companion waiting for his return who also believed the truth. Two people. At least that was a start.

Your comments on my novel would be appreciated...Bill Johnson