CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

“The words that enlighten the soul are more precious than jewels.” Hazrat Inayat Khan “Senator Horn thinks you were trying to elevate yourself as an equal to God.” “Yes.” This concept sent her mind reeling. The magnitude of what she was trying to absorb became too heavy for her legs. Penelope Spence blinked and fell into one of the waiting area chairs facing the window. Horn had told her that every major religious organization in the world would try to stop Walker. The implications for organized religion were far-reaching and dangerous, at least to them. If common people could connect directly to a higher force, why would they need expensive churches, or to pay the bills of ministers, rabbis, Imams and priests? Organized religion around the world could become superfluous, and every place of worship a quaint remembrance of diff erent times. If what Walker was saying were true, then they were about to enter the Fourth Awakening and the entire social fabric of the world could be shredded. To some religious leaders and their followers it might appear to be the end of the world. And they would be correct; it could very well be the end of their world. Penelope shivered as she remembered what Walker had said earlier. He was right. They would not give up their power and position without a fi ght. “What we’ve shown you in the past few days…” 249 The Fourth Awakening Penelope jumped. The sound of Walker’s voice drawing her back to reality was like a heavy book hitting the floor of a quiet library. “…We usually spread out over a longer period of time to allow your mind and body to adjust to the new reality.” Walker gripped Spence’s arms, lifted her to her feet and turned her to face him. Penelope felt her heart flutter and her cheeks flush. “It is critical that you stay focused and positive. Do you understand?” “Why is it so critical?” Walker gathered his thoughts and chose his words carefully. “Because of what you’ve been through in the past few days and the fact that, while you started down this path willingly, we may have pushed you too fast.” “What are you telling me?” “Your fMRI is showing some of the same markers as the people we lost.” Penelope Spence’s mouth fell open and her body turned to ice. “What have you done to me?” “I’m sorry to expose you to this risk but it was necessary.” “What kind of risk?” Any thought of remaining positive was being pushed further and further from her mind as the anger and the fear began to build. He had betrayed her, and possibly put her life in danger. Walker sensed the change in Penelope; he glanced up at Sally Winters. “Calm down, we won’t allow anything to hurt you,” Walker said. Behind Penelope and out of her sight line, Sally Winters had quietly opened a small leather case and had taken a syringe in her hand. If it became necessary, she could inject the sedative in Penelope’s neck in less than a second. Sally Winters’ eyes locked on Walker’s, awaiting the signal. “Don’t tell me to calm down. What kind of risk?” “Enlightenment is like a pyramid. The wider your base the higher you can go. What has happened is you have developed faster in certain areas, and you may not have a sufficient base to support this growth.” “What have you done to me?” Penelope felt hot tears forming in her eyes and streaming down her cheeks. “Nothing has happened, and nothing is going to happen. You’re in the compound now, and we have people to help you get over this last barrier.” Walker glanced up at Sally Winters, who moved to within mere inches of the shaking woman, as she removed the cap from the needle of the 250 Rod Pennington & Jeffery A. Martin syringe. Following his eyes, Penelope saw the syringe poised next to her throat, a drop of clear liquid already on its tip. Penelope tried to run toward the door but Walker held her arms too tightly. “You betrayed me! YOU ALL BETRAYED…” Unable to fight or fl ee, circuit breakers in her mind began clicking off as she slumped forward. “Penelope. PENELOPE!…” Penelope Drayton Spence didn’t hear anything else. . TThe fear is gone and has been replaced with an overwhelming bliss. A sense of total peace and calmness settles over me. I hear a familiar voice. “Please come back.” “Why would I ever want to leave this place?” “Trust me.” . MMark Hatchet, reading glasses perched on his nose, reread the executive summary. This obviously wasn’t Nellie’s work; it was too clinical and bloodless. It had no flow, and whoever had written it managed to bury the lead that the Hermes Project had experienced some kind of breakthrough in expanding human consciousness. Still, it gave the crew he was able to round up on short notice something to do during the four plus hours they were in the air, besides drink coffee and stare out the window.
 The two reporters he really wanted on this story weren’t here. Th e obvious first choice because of his personal relationship to Walker, Kent Lazlo, was on assignment in London at a G-8 Conference. His second pick, a young fire breather name Stacey Grover, who reminded Hatchet of Nellie in her prime, hadn’t made it to the airport on time. He had her booked on the next commercial fight out to Jackson Hole but she wouldn’t be there in time to contribute much before deadline. He had known that even giving Spence the initial contact was risky, but now he was in career jeopardy territory. With this huge buildup, if she didn’t deliver she could run back to Charleston and lick her wounds. He, on the other hand, was in the corporate jet with his boss’s boss and the CEO 251 The Fourth Awakening of the paper. If this didn’t go well, the blame would rapidly run downhill in his direction. He still had his big trump card, the confidential source he still hadn’t revealed even to his boss. Even a pipeline straight into the Oval Office might not be enough to save him if things went south. In her day, Penelope Drayton Spence had been the fi nest investigative reporter he had ever met, including some of the legendary ones on his own staff. But did she still have it? Th e first two stories she sent him on the Hermes Project were impressive, and would likely win her every award in journalism this year. This was something very diff erent. Th is was the kind of story that defined a career, the kind Hollywood makes movies about. Mark Hatchet popped another Tums into his mouth. . PPenelope Spence’s eyes flew open. Standing in front of her was a terrified Sally Winters. “Are you all right?” Penelope was unable to speak but nodded that she was okay. “Are you sure? Who am I?” “Sally Winters,” Penelope said in a barely audible voice. “Where are you?” “Jackson, Wyoming at the Hermes Project.” “Thank God.” Winters hugged Penelope tightly. “We thought we had lost you like the others.” That was when Penelope saw Michael Walker on the floor. Jerold Altman was pushing on his chest and counting. He stopped, then breathed into the prone man’s mouth. “What happened?” Penelope tried to shout but her voice was like a clarinet with a broken reed. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “What happened?” she finally asked in a soft husky voice. She tried to move toward Walker, but in her weakened state she was no match for Sally Winters. “You fell into a complete non-symbolic state.” “What does that mean?” Penelope asked as she realized she was too weak to struggle and gave up the fi ght. “You completely let go of your ego and for a flash you were completely enlightened.” “I have no idea what that means.” “I know,” Sally Winters said as she stroked her hair. “I know.” “What happened to Michael?” “We have no idea. He muttered ‘trust me’ then fell to the floor. No one has ever seen anything like this before.” 252 Rod Pennington & Jeffery A. Martin The room began filling up with people; instructions and shouts were ringing in Penelope’s ears. She barely heard them. Dr. Altman came in and the crowd parted as he made his way to his fallen friend. Turning to Penelope he asked softly, “What happened?” “He spoke to me,” Penelope’s voice cracked. “What did he say?” Sally Winters gave Penelope a liter of water from which she sipped enough so she could speak above a whisper. The room fell silent. All eyes in the room, except for those belonging to those giving Walker CPR, turned to her. “He asked me to trust him.” “My God,” Altman shouted as his mouth fell open. “He did it. He did it!” He fell to the floor next to Walker and gave him a shake. “Don’t you die on me now! Do you hear me!” Walker’s eyes fluttered open. “I think everyone in the state heard you.” “Well?” Altman demanded. “Is it scalable?” Walker was helped into a chair and the color was starting to return to his cheeks. He waved away offers of further assistance and rubbed the middle of his sternum. “Your grandson is stronger than he looks.” “Yes, yes,” Altman made no effort to hide his annoyance. “Is it scalable?” “Th at depends.” “Depends on what?’ Altman demanded. “Her.” All eyes in the room turn to Penelope. “How are you?” Penelope did a quick personal inventory and was satisfied. “I’m fi ne.” She crinkled her nose and looked at her different body parts and nodded her head. “I would say I am much better than fine. But you already knew that,” she said with a smile. “Yes, yes,” Altman said impatiently. “We can all plainly see you’ve had a glimpse of the non-symbolic state and are none the worse for wear. Welcome to the Hermes Project. But that is not the question on the fl oor,” Altman turns back to Walker. “Can you do it again?” “With a bit of work, I would say yes.” “Hallelujah!” Altman dropped his cane and danced a little jig. Everyone in the room watched in bemused wonder. Altman came over to Penelope and took her hands. “Madame, prepare yourself,” he said, pulling to her feet. “I am going to kiss you full on the lips.” And kiss her he did. No one had ever seen Nobel Lauriat Dr. Carl Altman in such a state. 253 The Fourth Awakening Walker rose to his feet and motioned for Jerold Altman. “Take your grandfather to his room and get him ready to go to the airport before he hurts himself.” As Jerold Altman began to walk toward his grandfather, Walker tugged on his arm, turning him back around. “And for future reference, I was fine. I just used too much energy and couldn’t move.” Jerold nodded. Walker smiled. “I appreciate the eff ort.” “What is going on?” Penelope demanded. The smile on Walker’s face would clear a cloudy day. “We did it.” “Did what?” “What we’ve been working on since the accident.” Walker surveyed the room where fi fteen members of the Hermes group had gathered and more were coming through the door. A fl icker of recognition began to light the eyes of the others in the room. Excited whispers turned into shouts of “YES!” “Is someone going to tell me what’s going on?” “For the past year we have been looking for a way to repair the damage we inadvertently caused. And you were the missing element.” “Why me?” “Because, thanks to you and your pig…” Walker caught himself. “Because of your steadfastness we now know where we made our biggest mistake. Since the incident we have been overly cautious. Because of circumstance, you are the first person we have allowed to develop this rapidly. By fighting me every inch of the way, the same way some of them did, I was able to find the path to rebuild their egos and bring them back into balance.” “Will you be able to restore them all?” “Possibly. It will depend if they are just residing in a non-symbolic state of enlightenment or if there was permanent Kundalini damage. Th e important thing is, for the first time in a long time, there is hope.” “Did you hit your head when you fell?” “I did not.” “Then what in the world are you talking about?” “Remember the place you were?” “A little hard to forget.” “I’m confident that at least seven of the soldiers are at that place or even deeper, and possibly two more of them as well. Because of your glorious steadfastness they will have the option to return to their families.” 254 Rod Pennington & Jeffery A. Martin “They will have options?” “Of course, we all get to select our own path,” Walker said with a smile. “Some may choose to not come back but it will be by their choice and not ours to make. Thank you for trusting me by the way.” Penelope felt her cheeks flush and she lowered her eyes. Walker kissed her in the middle of the forehead and she felt the now familiar jolt of energy surge through her body buckling her knees. He swept her into his arms before she could fall. “Do you tango?” “Not in the past 25 years.” “It’s like riding a bicycle. When this is over, we dance!”