Chapter 2: Visions

Marie snuggled up to her husband as they lay on a blanket on a sandy beach overlooking the southern Pacific Ocean, fronting their coastal New Zealand home.

"It is so lovely to be together again," she murmured in Steve's ear. "I see no need to return north for many months. The elders are well, and all is quiet at home." She giggled softly. "I never imagined I could enjoy a perpetual summer, flying north in July and south in January!"

"I never dreamed my life would become so peaceful and filled with love," Steve answered. "Perhaps some day they'll let me back in the United States and I can go north with you to visit our friends there. No matter. As long as that madman rules in the White House, I've no reason to return."

Steve Barringer had been barred from re-entry into the U.S. by the Stinson administration as punishment for his role in the Siple Island affair, as it became known. A terminate with extreme prejudice order had been rescinded by the Agency, but Steve was careful to watch his back whenever he traveled away from their New Zealand home. Marie remained heavily involved in tribal affairs at their eastern Washington reservation. She remained close to her grandparents, the elder Wapato couple, who showed not the least sign of slowing down. They were spiritual leaders and counselors, especially to the young men and women who returned to the tribe to reestablish their cultural roots. Marie—"Raven Woman"—captured their hearts and minds. They wished to grow closer to her source of strength and wisdom. The elders were delighted to find themselves becoming mentors to a new generation of seekers.

"I wonder," Marie said softly, laying her arm across Steve's chest as they lay in the warm sunshine on the beach. "The elders tell me that we must prepare ourselves for a bad time that is coming. They warn that we enjoy a brief respite that will soon end. Troubles are coming, and a conflict that will accelerate as it continues. There will be great turmoil that will bring violence and tragedy. We must be vigilant and prepared, they warn, lest we fail to escape the worst attacks."

Steve rolled toward her and gazed into her worried eyes.

"How bad?" he murmured.

"Very bad," she replied. "They saw a mushroom cloud and many innocent souls ascending to the spirit world."

"Oh, shit!" he murmured, and rolled back to stare upward into the clouds. "A nuclear attack."

The hot sun blazed down upon the tent and the small crowd of people gathered in the dusty pasture on the edge of the north Texas town. Loudspeakers stood behind a crude platform at one end of the tent, facing rows of seats where sweating people fanned themselves with folded programs. A tall, gaunt man, a head taller than anyone around him, glanced at his watch, and motioned to his assistant.

"It is time. Is the camera ready? Is the link ready? We're paying for this TV time; I don't want anything to go wrong now!"

"We're set, Reverend. The camera feed and the video recorders will go live the moment you turn on the microphone."

"Excellent, son, just excellent! Well, why don't you just keep an eye on things, and make sure that nobody trips over a power cord or steps in front of the camera. We don't want anything to mess up our inaugural holy call to arms now, do we?"

The Most Reverend Chase Evans McClayne of the God in Glory Church of The Primal Revelation smiled down at his young assistant, his white teeth gleaming a feral smile. The young man felt himself drawn into the man's hawk-like gaze, into the eyes focused on him like lasers.

"Uh ... no ... no, sir ... uh, Reverend McClayne ... no ... nothing will go wrong, I promise."

"Good, young man, very good. Now please go tend to business. We mustn't keep these good people waiting." The tall man glanced again over the heads of the sweating, restless crowd gathered inside the sweltering tent. Rows of fans on stands at either end blew hot air in, and forced the stench of sweating bodies out.