Part 6 (1/2)
He slipped over the rocks and headed up the slope. For a long while I just gazed in that direction, catching sight of him a few times as he crept between the outcroppings and trees. Then he was gone.
After a few minutes, someone talking down by the trail attracted my attention. Four rangers were walking in my direction. I grabbed my pack and slipped around the rocks in the opposite direction, hoping to make my way back toward the cliff face where the climbers had been.
Suddenly, someone grabbed my arm and jerked me to a standstill, sending my pack flying ahead of me and causing me to lose my footing. A large man with sungla.s.ses and trekking pants stared down at me. Another man walked up from behind him and leaned forward, then politely lifted me to my feet.
”Remember me?” the man said in a British accent. ”Where's your friend, Wilson James?”
I immediately remembered him as the blond man who had been observing me at the Pub.
”Wil left,” I replied.
The rangers came up, and the man gave them a look. They nodded and headed back down the hill again.
”No matter,” the man continued. ”You two are pretty slippery, but I want you to know we wish you no harm. We're trying to help you.”
He pulled me over about five feet to where the others couldn't hear. ”We don't have much time. But I'm going to tell you something. You must listen very carefully. We know about the release of this Doc.u.ment, and we know you're looking for the rest of it. We're very interested in what it has to say, and we want you to keep searching and tell us everything that you find out.”
He gave me a look that was only slightly menacing.
”Who are you?” I asked. ”Who are you working for?”
He smiled. ”Let's just say I'm speaking for a group that exists at the highest levels of every Western government.”
I was struggling to hold on to my clarity. ”What could you possibly want with an esoteric doc.u.ment like this? It's about spirituality.”
He looked at me a long moment, perhaps aware that he could not win me over without giving me more information.
”I want to trust you,” he said. ”This release about spirituality is occurring at a time when the war between religions is our most dangerous problem. And don't be fooled. That's what it is, a war between those having primarily one religious view in the West, and those countries, primarily in the East, that have another view. This war may seem quieter on some fronts, but underneath, the tensions are accelerating. We have the best minds working for us, and they're all convinced we are on a downhill slide toward total destruction.
”The problem is simple. It's the old issue of the Cycle of Revenge. Every time we kill one of theirs, ten more join the fight. And every time they kill one of ours, there's a call in high places to do something more drastic to protect ourselves. There is no middle ground here. And the worst is yet to come. The whole conflict is about to go nuclear.”
He stepped toward me. ”Do you know the religious affiliation of the President of Iran? He's a member of a sect called Twelvers. They believe that Armageddon, the war that is prophesied to destroy the world in the last days, is a good thing-because they think when it approaches, their version of a Messiah, who they call their Twelfth Imam, will come out from the clouds, vanquish all their enemies, and then create an ideal world based on their beliefs.
”Just to show you how crazy it is out there, we find similar views among Judeo-Christian fanatics in the West. They also think that Armageddon is desirable, since they believe it will bring forth their Messiah figures to likewise defeat their enemies. Some people in both camps seem to think it is their duty to actually bring about this great war.
”This kind of fanaticism seems to reflect a growing tendency to give up on this world. People everywhere are hanging on to their religious doctrines at all cost, thinking the rest of the world is going insane. And they're hoping G.o.d will intervene to end the misery.”
He looked genuinely worried.
”Don't you think,” he continued, ”that it's strange how the Iranians are talking, even after everything the Israelis have tried? Iran is much further along in its nuclear capability than anyone thinks. And many of its bases are far underground. That's why even bombing attacks don't deter them. Some a.n.a.lysts think they already have nukes now, and they're just working on the delivery systems.”
He reached over and handed me my pack. ”I don't claim to know what's in this Doc.u.ment you're studying. It seems like a bunch of talk to me so far. But we know the reputation of Wilson James. If this Doc.u.ment has a real solution, we want to know about it.”
He gave me a serious look and added, ”Otherwise measures are going to be taken by our group that no one is going to like.”
In spite of the threat, I began to think he was being sincere with me.
”Don't worry about getting in touch with us,” he replied. ”We'll find you. We have people in every department of your government, so we have everything we need to keep up with you.”
He paused and looked at me for a long moment.
”There's one more thing. This giving up on the world is not just happening in religious circles. It's happening in the political realm as well. Both Left and Right are quickly polarizing into more dangerous groups, who also think the world is collapsing, and thus they are justified in their extreme action. It is another reason we might have to act. So you want to make sure you align with us in this matter.”
With that, he shook my hand forcefully and told me his name was Colonel Peterson, then reached into a satchel on the ground and pulled out some papers.
”Here's part of the translated Doc.u.ment we found,” he said, walking away. ”The Third and Fourth Integrations. Some of the people we interviewed told us more of it was rumored to be north of here, near a larger mountain.”
For a long time, I just huddled there among the rocks, my head buzzing from all this. The sun was now blocked by another thick layer of clouds, and an ominous cool wind began to blow from the north. I opened my pack and pulled out a windbreaker. Now, at least, we knew who was following us. And if he was correct about the geopolitical situation and people giving up on this world, maybe this was why the Doc.u.ment had been released at this time.
I wondered suddenly, in the interest of truth, whether I should have told Peterson about the men who seemed to be holding Rachel against her will. Probably not, I figured, since I didn't know for sure if that a.s.sumption was true. I thought for a moment about reading some of the two Integrations Peterson had given me, but I found I couldn't concentrate. I was getting antsy- I had to do something.
Finally, I decided to move ahead in the direction Wil had traveled.
”Expect Synchronicity,” I reminded myself out loud. ”And stay centered in the truth of what you're doing, and in Alignment.”
I proceeded carefully up the canyon until I noticed another trail that bore to the right through a rocky gap toward the northeast. The trail looked to be rarely used overall, but it contained dozens of fresh human tracks. Following them, I proceeded to another large mound of red rock where I could survey the flats farther to the north.
About a quarter mile ahead, I could see a small clearing where many people seemed to be camped. It was just across the line into the area Wil, and now Peterson, had talked about: the Secret Mountain Wilderness. The multiridged mountain towered in the distance. Camping, I knew, was expressly forbidden in this wilderness. Whoever all those people were in the clearing, their party wasn't going to last very long.
As a gray dusk descended, I hiked down the slope and into the flats. Here the terrain was less rocky and much more green, dotted with large areas of junipers, and large oaks. Several rabbits flushed from the rocks as I walked.
When I reached the clearing, I couldn't quite believe how many people were there. From where I stood, I could see at least two acres filled with campers. Dozens of people were walking around. It was as though someone had organized a music festival of sixty people two miles out in the desert, in a spot where everyone had to hike to. In reality, it seemed to be a totally spontaneous gathering, born of rumor and a desire to find out about the Doc.u.ment.
The larger reality of what might be occurring struck me. Ostensibly, the pieces of these writings had been dispersed all over the world. Was something like this gathering happening in many other places, all at the same time?
Suddenly, I could hear the low whine of a four-wheeler far back in the distance toward the canyon, and I knew the rangers were about to move this way. Hurrying ahead, I picked out a spot near the east side of the clearing, figuring I could make a quick getaway into the junipers when the rangers came. Around me was the glow of eight or ten campfires.
I cooked up some soup on the stove and ate it, waiting for complete darkness, and then I ventured out to see if Wil was here, or Rachel. For half an hour or so I walked around, glancing at the people and listening to their conversations about the Doc.u.ment. Different groups were trading copies and talking about their experiences with Conscious Conversation.
For the most part, I was ahead in the Integrations compared to those I was listening to, and I didn't feel the urge to engage anyone. I wanted to cruise around first and see who was here. After a long time, I had completely checked out most of the sites, except for several larger groups near the southern edge of the camping area. The first one included at least twenty people, all camped together.
In the center of the group, a small gas camping lantern hung from a tree, flooding the area with an odd yellow light, like the bug lights you see on porches out in the country. Moths and dragonflies eerily circled the lantern.
As I walked closer, I almost ran into another man who was entering the camp at the same time. We actually had to stop to avoid cras.h.i.+ng into each other. I paused, wondering if this meeting was a Synchronicity.
”Excuse me,” he said, in a friendly manner.
”That's okay,” I replied.
He gave me a second look. ”Hey, I saw you back at Boynton. You must be looking for the translations.”
”Yeah, that's right.”
”Where did you come in from?”
I could tell he was sizing me up for some reason.
”Georgia,” I said. He introduced himself as Robert, from Idaho.
”From Georgia, huh?” he commented. ”Some people in our group are from there. We have all of the translations through the Third Integration.”