"That who is called by many names and is one. Some call him G.o.d, some call him Allah, or Elohim, or the One, the Universe, the Creator."

"He is expecting me?" Alex asked.

"Yes." The voice and fire died down. The mist thickened around Alex. He stood with his feet planted firmly on the ground and waited for it to dissipate, but the mist coalesced and engulfed him. After a few moments, the mist cleared and he could make out a boat with a dark figure floating along the water towards him. The figure wore a cloak and held an oar in both arms. He seemed to be the very manifestation of death; the Boatman.

"Come," said the Boatman.

Alex did as he commanded and stepped into the boat. He sat down and looked at the figure with an innocent expression. The boat slowly and steadily traveled upstream. Along the way, deathly sounds echoed in the air. There was no light, only gray. To his left and right, he saw figures aimlessly walking up and down.

The boat entered one of three caves. A holy white light emanated from it. When the boat was fully immersed in this light, Alex felt a sense of peace, joy, and complete surrender. He smiled and his eyes brightened and shone with the l.u.s.ter of a thousand suns. He looked at his body. Instead of a shirt and denim jeans, he now wore a long white robe. He remembered the book of Revelations and realized the things that John at Patmos had said about his visit to heaven must have been true.

"Unbelievable," Alex tried to say, but no words came out. He realized telepathy was a means of communication. So many different fragrances were in the air, in the atmosphere. There were aromas of exotic flowers and perfumes. He felt invigorated. He seemed more alive than dead now. I must be in heaven, I must be in heaven, he realized. His body and hair were anointed with fragrant oils and perfumes. Even the boatman who had worn a long dark cloak had changed his appearance. His cloak transformed to a completely white luminescence and shone with a blinding patina. he realized. His body and hair were anointed with fragrant oils and perfumes. Even the boatman who had worn a long dark cloak had changed his appearance. His cloak transformed to a completely white luminescence and shone with a blinding patina.

"Now," said a voice, "You look fit to meet the G.o.d of G.o.ds, King of kings, and the Lord of Hosts!"

The boat no longer floated on water but on air. Everywhere lights, colors and glimmering stars shone brighter than anything Alex had ever seen. His eyesight was not affected by the brightness; it was as though he could see things unimagined. He heard rolling waves, soft thunder, and the distinct humming sound he had heard when drinking blood. He heard soft bells and voices singing in a choir. This must have been the choir of angels singing everlasting praise to G.o.d. As they came closer to G.o.d, the sounds and the smells became more distinctive. Color and light transformed into a mosaic of rainbows. There were no words to describe it.

The boat slowed down and gradually halted to a complete stop. In front of them was a double-gate of immeasurable proportions. It was infinitely high, and stretched down beyond Alex's vision. There were seven rods on each gate. The voice said something indistinguishable and they opened up. The boat did not move any further. The Boatman gestured for Alex to step out.

Alex stepped into the light. There was no boundary and no horizon, only the bright white glow. Alex felt disoriented at first, but once he walked to the other side, watching as the boat left and vanished slowly from his sight, he got the hang of it. As he walked on, his anxieties dissipated. From the midst of the light, a figure appeared and said, "Think and it shall be done."

"What?"

"Realize yourself, young one. You must embrace the truth."

"What do you mean?"

"The only way you can get to the one, to the truth, is to think and meditate upon it and you shall be transported there." The figure repeated, "Think and it shall be done." It faded away into the light.

It sounded simple enough, and so Alex concentrated on being in the throne room of G.o.d. But every time he tried, he was bombarded with images that he did not want to see. So there's a catch to it, So there's a catch to it, he thought. he thought. It's like meditation. It's like meditation. If he could keep his mind firm and concentrated on the thought of G.o.d long enough, he would reach the throne. He tried three more times to concentrate his mind. Each time he failed. If he could keep his mind firm and concentrated on the thought of G.o.d long enough, he would reach the throne. He tried three more times to concentrate his mind. Each time he failed.

Why wasn't it working? There was enough silence and solitude to attain a perfect state of concentration. Wait! That was it. He was concentrating too much on the exterior. It was simple. There was no effort needed. He needed to simplify his thoughts. There was no need for ritual or standards or anything else. It was complete surrender, simple surrender, and faith.

He closed his eyes, breathed out slowly and thought only of G.o.d as he used to at the Monolith. He felt himself melt away into the stars. Suddenly he was connected to every proton, neutron, atom and quark.

He felt as large as the Universe itself, and yet infinitesimally small. He was not Alex. He owned no body, mind, soul, or spirit. He was everything and everyone. He realized nothing mattered. When he opened his eyes slowly he saw what he had been waiting for since time began: G.o.d.

At eight o'clock, Richard and John entered Jarad's room. The patient followed their movements from his bed. "How are you feeling?" John asked. They sat on the chairs near his bed, while Jarad sat upright so he could have his breakfast. He sipped his orange juice, ignoring them.

John and Richard looked at each other across the bed. Jarad cut into his sausages ferociously, put a rather large bite into his mouth and greedily chewed on it.

John and Richard said nothing for the next two minutes, while Jarad continued to stuff himself. The silence was extremely uncomfortable.

"Can't you see that I'm busy?" Jarad said. He finished his breakfast and gulped down his juice.

"We wanted to see how you were," said John.

"I'm doing just fine, thanks," Jarad said, his voice m.u.f.fled by the napkin he used to wipe the crumbs from his mustache.

"We have a proposal for you, my old friend," said John.

At the mention of "friend," Jarad burst out laughing. "Friend! What the h.e.l.l is that?"

"Now you're just being unreasonable. Remember, you started this." Jarad was about to speak, but John raised his palm. "I'm not saying I am better than you Jarad. You and I are the same. The only difference is..." he gave a wicked smile, "I succeeded where you failed. And the reason for that is because I have good intentions."

"Whatever problems there are you know I would have overcome them."

"And you still can," said Richard, preparing some coffee for all three of them.

"What?" asked Jarad, confused and keen to know more.

"That's right; but under one condition."

"You know it's inevitable, Jarad," John said, sipping his coffee. "This war was always going to happen, whether there was a prophecy or not."

"Oh, I get it!" Jarad said sourly. "You want me to lead the battalions."

John nodded.

"I'm retired, you know that," Jarad said.

"Look, I'm offering you life or death; choose life for your own sake. Please."

"Please?" Jarad raised one eyebrow in feigned astonishment.

Richard said, "Jarad, we are literally offering you life. If you join us in this war, things will be different for you and for the others."

"In fact," said John, "with my help, you may still have enough credibility to be part of the executive branch."

"I've seen the news, John. You've become a b.l.o.o.d.y dictator and you expect me to join you? As what? An a.s.sistant, a butler?"

John laughed, "I never intended that for you. I have a better, much more challenging post available."

"And what would that be?"

"You will be resuming your duty as a General, and you will also be part of the Supreme War Council. Even if you were plotting against me, you'd at least be helping all of humanity along the way."

Jarad remained silent for a while. He breathed in deeply, sighed and gave a small nod. His face showed that he was mulling over what John had just said. "Give me time to think it through and I'll let you know."

"Great," John said. "I will see you next week in the War Room."

"Do we even have one?" Richard asked.

"We will."

In Alex's holding cell, they stripped him bare so that they could have a full view of what was going on with his body. It had turned pale-green.

"What's the situation?" asked Erik.

Joqetu replied, "You can see for yourself...sir. If he doesn't come around soon, the body will decompose and there will be little hope for him."

"Well, no matter," said Erik. "The book should be arriving shortly."

"You have it then? We will be using the technique?" asked Liam.

"Yes," Daniel said, "All of us." The Rebels looked at Erik and Daniel suspiciously. Nikolas knew why he had said that. When they would be connecting their energies together, they would also be connecting their minds, which meant that the truth could be exposed. This was unless they protected their thoughts. By looking at each other they understood what had to be done in order to maintain their true allegiance. This would require more power than ever, but they were up for it. They had to be.

"Until then, we will have to make sure it doesn't happen," said Liam.

"How?" asked Erik.

"There is a way," said Dante, "We must give him some energy, in order to slow down the decaying process."

"Won't that just quicken it?" Joqetu asked.

"Depends on the type of energy you give him," said Nikolas.

"Yes," said Yagnik, "If we give him the kind that regenerates, we can at least restore his body."

"Exactly," said Nikolas, turning to face the other Rebels, "Prepare yourselves." In quick succession, light emanated from their bodies turning them transparent. The light shone so bright that it bathed the entire room and hallway. The Rebels encircled Alex's body and raised their arms. Energy entered through their hands, and everything became silent as though they were all struck deaf. Erik said something, but no sound came out of his mouth.

They lowered their arms, cupped their hands and then with palms touching Alex's chest, forehead, navel, and legs, they released the energy into him. The lights traveled to different parts of his body. They soaked his spine and bloodstream, glowing through his skin and then slowly fading away. As they did, a great change could be seen over his body. Color entered his cheeks and lips and the green hue left his body.

"Well, that was great!" said Daniel, "Truly marvelous. You Rebels must teach us how to do these things."

"And in time, we will," said Nikolas. "All these things were hidden from Aidan by his father, but soon enough the truth will be out."

Mikhail and Sirach entered the room. Sirach held a weighty book in his hand.

"Any trouble?" asked Erik.

"No, not at all, sir," Sirach said, and added, "although," he pa.s.sed the tome to Erik, "They did ask me why you wanted this particular volume."

"But there was no mention of the Council?"

"Not at all," Mikhail said.

"Good." Erik took the book in his hands. It was bound in very old leather and in ancient letters the t.i.tle read Incantations of the Dead. It was closed with two buckles on the top and bottom right corners. Erik opened it and the dust rose up from it, causing him to cough and brush it off. "Let us begin," he said, gravely. They encircled the body once again and joined hands. Erik remained outside the circle, to give them instructions. All, including Daniel, Mikhail and Sirach joined in the process. All Nikolas could do now was hope for the best.

The Throne Room was simple yet elegant. The light disorientated Alex. Alex could not make out what he looked like but he saw his figure. He wore white robes and in one hand had a book, and in the palm of his other hand seven lights flickered. The light of his face dimmed so Alex could make out his features. He was not old, but immortal and wise. His long thick beard glowed white, as did the hair on his head that flowed down his back. "My son," He said.

Alex prostrated himself in front of him. "Father," he said.

To Alex, G.o.d was exactly as he had seen him represented in Michelangelo's paintings. G.o.d laughed. "Oh, you really think I look like this?"

"I don't know. What do you look like, really?"

"Whatever you want me to look like," G.o.d answered, smiling benignly.

Alex was confused.

"Because of your Catholic upbringing, you picture me and heaven this way. But you have studied other religions."

"So, you're saying you're not like this at all?"

"No, nor is Heaven. It is all according to you. You know Jesus."

"Your son."

"All are my children, and more so, they are me. Think of me as Jesus."

Suddenly the figure of G.o.d changed and resembled Jesus.

G.o.d continued, "Now imagine me as the Buddha."

Again Alex thought and once more the figure changed. He sat down, levitating in a lotus position, with a smiling clean-shaven face and his hair tied in a bun. He wore a loincloth and a saffron color shawl.

"You see? People see me as they want. It does not matter as long they realize that I am not different. I exist, and you exist only because I exist.

"Existence is the same as non-existence. Perception is based on consciousness, which is my consciousness. You are me and I am in all. Life and death are illusory. Existence, as you see it, is formed from the pictures in your mind. Your consciousness is borrowed from the source."

"That is you?"

"That is you! Realize that I am all these things I am all these things," the figure changed from Buddha, to Jesus, to Krishna, to Michelangelo's representation, to Rama, to the Virgin Mary, to some of the Catholic saints, and then to the Hindu G.o.ddesses, "and ultimately I am you!" Alex suddenly saw himself standing opposite. "You and I, these are only words, Alex. There is no Alex, or Aidan, or Anaxagoras, or the Red Serpent. Realize that you do not have a destiny that has been decided. You are Me and I am You! You have all power over whatever worlds your consciousness stirs up. All have that power. Your father, your grandfather, you mother, your uncles, your ancestors, your descendants are all You!"

"Then why must I be the Falsifier?"

"Who said you have to be anything?"

"I am fighting against a terrible evil, am I not?"

"No! Realize there is no good, or evil, no joy, no pain, no beginning, no end, no life, no death."

"Then why create this world?" Alex asked.

"I did not create this universe. I am not here; I do not exist, and I am existing. I am non-existence and existence as you are. You created this universe; you created this world, with your consciousness, which in itself is an illusion."

Alex shook his head, "I have heard all this before, yet when you speak to me, I do not understand it."

"People are not good or evil; people are people because they believe it. When they realize that they are all and none and they are what they choose and ultimately they are light, they are one, then none of this will be there. You saw that river and the people there because you thought this was how it would be. Others saw it differently. G.o.d is not individualistic, but he is what he is according to individuals individuals."

"What about atheists, then?"

G.o.d laughed. "They see me as they want to as well. But you are missing the point; you have to see me as you! You have to see that there are no individuals, there are no egos. When you realize that all things are one, then you will see yourself as everything. I am there only because you, as a civilization, see me to be so. Time has seen other beings that imagine me as something else, concepts unimaginable to you, because they are on higher dimensions. Just realize what you are doing and why you're doing it. Everything: Karma, Destiny, Life, Ego, Faith, Belief, and all the other terms are just terms. What's more important is the power behind them, and that power is consciousness. Therefore, realize the prophecies of your father are real and they do mean something. You must follow them, only when you think you must. Otherwise don't follow them at all.

"Everything, sound, light, music, shadows, everything everything is just a part of your thoughts, your perception. They don't have meaning unless meaning is given to them, and the one who gives meaning to it is you! Heaven means this to you, because of your conditioning. Leave it all, or enjoy it all, and in any way, all are bound to realize the Truth! This life, this world, this Universe, is like this because of your perception and the meaning you give to certain things. When that meaning ceases, then the actuality will be known!" is just a part of your thoughts, your perception. They don't have meaning unless meaning is given to them, and the one who gives meaning to it is you! Heaven means this to you, because of your conditioning. Leave it all, or enjoy it all, and in any way, all are bound to realize the Truth! This life, this world, this Universe, is like this because of your perception and the meaning you give to certain things. When that meaning ceases, then the actuality will be known!"

"Then, that means I am not dead. I am not alive, but rather I AM, because I say I AM."