Chapter Seventeen: A Baptism of Ice by Tina Semanas “Take your clothes off!” Drew stood frozen in place staring down into a 3 foot pool of icy blue water. “If this is the ‘Devil’s Bathtub’ than why does it look so freaking cold? Doesn’t Satan bathe in fire and brimstone? This is more like an ice bath.” “Just strip and jump in. The longer you think about it, the worse it will seem.” Phen glared at Drew before unbuttoning his shirt, taking a deep breath and plunging into the swirling cold waters of a natural tub cut into the black sandstone of the riverbed. After a few seconds under the water Phen shot out gasping for a quick breath of air. He said as he dried off from the pool, “Wow, that was much colder than I thought it would be - - after being caked in dirt and sweat for the past few days, it actually feels great!” Drew pleaded, “Do I really have to jump in too? What’s the big deal if I don’t?” Jonathan looked at him smiling, “We are making sure there are no electronic bugs or detection sensors attached to your body. You know how small they make chips these days, smaller than a speck of sand. One could be stuck in your hair, ear hole or who knows where else? The frigid water will make sure those devices are disabled. Never forget, The Sisters and their neophyte compadres are a sneaky lot. So Drew, sorry, but the rules are the rules and if you want to be welcomed into our community you have to pass through this small discomfort.” Samuel chuckled, “Think of it like your baptism into the family, after this moment we will forever call you brother.” “Baptism? Never heard of it.” Drew said. Taking off his pants he gingerly walked up to the edge of the basin and slipped on a mossy stone. He crashed hard onto his bottom and slid straight into the chilly water. Seconds later he was out, “Ouch, I think I broke my butt!” The men tried not to laugh, but the distorted expression of pain on Drew’s face was hilarious. Thomas snorted, “I like this guy already.” Leaning over, he extended a friendly hand and helped the wet naked teen back up and onto the dry path. Athan was the last to enter, he knew the routine, and exited the water as if he did this a million times. “Got that over with, now let's go talk to your father.” The small party of men walked the winding trail that followed a fast flowing river through a picturesque gorge, passing waterfalls and underneath steep rock cliffs. “There it is! Old Man’s Cave.” Athan knew it immediately. “Does he still keep his daytime hours up in the rooms of the cavern?” Jonathan replied, “Not any more, he has handed over security duties to me. For the most part he is spending his time in his home lab - - he is convinced he will succeed on the Xenon blocking formula. Personally, I think he should give up, it is a lost cause.” “Jonathan, not so fast.” Athan called over Phen, “Does this man seem like a lost cause to you?” “Huh?” After examining the face of a clear-eye Phen, Jonathan replied, “You mean to tell me this man was once a mindless drone? It can't be? We have to tell father!” Scrambling quickly up the path they came to a large cabin in the woods, Jonathan burst through the front door. “Dad, you there?” A gray haired woman with a surprisingly young brown face came to the front room wiping her hands on her long yellow apron. “Jonathan what’s happening? Did you have some trouble out on patrol? And who are these men?” “No problems Ma, we need to see dad right away. These men are the miracle we have been hoping for!” Looking intently in her eyes, Jonathan grabbed the shoulders of his mom and said, “Ma, it works! It actually works!” “What’s all the noise in here - I can't figure my calculations with so many distractions!” A short bald headed man in a white lab coat came walking into the room as he was cleaning off a pair of wire rim spectacles. “And who are these men?” Putting them back on he took a long gaze at Phen, “Wait I think I know you - you’re Stephen Dias! But that is impossible, you were…” “Dad, before you get going,” Jonathan demanded, “You might want to be sitting down for this?” “Son, I think I know what this is about? I think I know?” A tear formed on the corner of the old man’s eye. ------------------------------------------------------ The small ruby studded masquerade mask and black top hat was enough to hide Beck’s identity in the mass of the riotous throng. Slipping into the orgy of people parading down 6th Avenue, Beck felt like eyes were everywhere watching her -- so vulnerable and so alone. She had to get out of this city, she could taste the terror of being hunted by The Sisters welling up in her bones. Her paranoia was fierce, it was as if every painted face, every bump and nudge on her arm, and every small glance of the strange crush of people knew she was Beck Paris and they all wanted to take a pound of her flesh. No place was safe. Taking a quick right down W. 51st street, Beck remembered St. Patricia’s Cathedral was a mere two blocks away. Maybe she could find refuge in the large gothic fortress? It was rumored that a small remnant of the old Christian cult was still allowed to practice their ancient rites as long as they paid the exorbitant taxes to the Mayor of the city. She had to take a chance. Weaving through the twisted tangle of people made walking the two blocks to the church seem almost impossible. It was like swimming up current against a flooded river. She passed by every type of human being imaginable: lizard ladies and blue skinned men, eunuchs on stilts and bearded fat princess’ swilling pints of dark ale, tattooed children and grandmothers with spikes and chains hanging from tongues, ears and other unmentionable appendages. The saying was true, on the last night of Vanity Night “the freaks come out at night!” Passing by a bordello full of male escorts kept exclusively for high society women, Beck was shocked to see her face on a large projection screen through their open window. People were pointing and laughing at what was being said as a 10 foot picture of her beamed brightly on the wall; she wanted to find out what was so funny, but she couldn’t risk it. Winding around the corner of 51st and 5th Avenue, she arrived at the front of St. Patricia’s. Beck passed by a large encampment of beggars and gypsies all soliciting passers-bye for money and drugs before getting to the famous bronze doors of the entryway. The smell of dung and urine hung like a thick cloud around the group of tents and make-shift shanties that were set up on the concrete surrounding the entrance. Pinching her nose, she bolted past the line of pleading hands and arms and up to the giant doors. They were astonishingly easy to open, and slipping into the entrance of the cavernous cathedral, Beck fell back leaning against the cold stone wall breathing in the luxury of a rare moment of silence. “Ahhhh, finally, quiet….” Taking a deep breath Beck closed her eyes and whispered a secret prayer. “God, if you exist, help?” After a few minutes Beck opened her eyes and looked up at the towering ornate gothic architecture of columns, arches and old stain glass windows. Thousands of flickering candles and lanterns on stands lit up the inside of the massive cathedral causing dark shadows to dance across the many statues and paintings that were lining the walls. Dark silhouettes of old ladies hunched over broken down pews could also be observed murmuring odd phrases and chanting mysterious prayers that echoed off the stone walls. Beck noticed the same smell of urine lingering in the damp air, but it was not as pungent as it was outside. “Mam, good evening. My name is Brother Dominic, I am a servant of Mother Joan of Arc, head priestess of St. Patricia's. Can I help you?” Beck looked down on a small ferret faced man with a severe hunchback carrying a large wooden chain of rosary beads and dressed in a brown frock. Tattooed across his face were five small black crosses. For some strange reason the tattoos made Beck laugh. They looked like the scribblings a bored second grade student would make on his hand during math class with a magic marker. How she missed the simplicity of youth. “Brother Dominic, would it be possible to have a meeting with Mother Joan of Ark? I’m desperate and I need some shelter. I think I am being stalked?” Signaling for Beck to follow, the short steward led her to a quiet sacristy behind the high altar. There sat the 300 pound matriarch, with a large greasy face and wrapped in a thick scarlet robe that reached to the floor. Beck was shocked to see that this obese woman was snoozing on a throne of velvet. Brother Dominic whispered to Beck, “Mother Joan is praying for the world, we must not disturbed her. If you need a place to stay for the night I will have Brother Nicholas bring you over to the rectory that is just outside and around the corner on Madison. You can wait there in the first room off the foyer as long as you like until you are able to talk to Mother Joan once she is done with her prayers.” “That would be fine. Thank you so much.” Ringing a small golden bell brought a young attendant hobbling into the room. It was a boy no older than 10 years old who also had on a similar brown frock holding the same type of wooden rosary chain as Dominic. Leaning over, Brother Dominic whispered into his ear. Without saying a word the small boy grabbed Beck’s hand and led her out a side door of the cathedral out into the dark street. “Mother Joan, Mother Joan, please wake up.” Brother Dominic was pulling on the priestess’ robe trying to get her attention. “Mother Joan…” Coughing with a spasm of phlegm filled guttural coughs, the Mother opened her heavy eyelids. Turning her head over the rolls of sweaty layers of fat on her neck, she peered down through two small swollen pink eyes at her timid attendant. In a low pitched growl, Mother Joan said, “What is it you slob? Can’t you see I was in a state of ecstatic communion with my Lord? This better be good, or you may have to pay more restitutional penance tonight at prayer?” “Well my Royal Mother, that woman showed up. We were warned she might come. Remember?” The small man uttered while bowing to Mother Joan. “What woman?” She asked. “I’m sorry, you have had much to concern you. But the secretary for Dr. Gladstone notified all possible places of sanctuary that might give safe harbor to a runaway criminal in the city, and naturally we were the first place to call. This woman is named Beck Paris, she is to be turned over to the Doyenne Council’s Tergament force if she is found.” Dominic replied while still remaining bent over. “Not my concern. But we must comply if we are to keep our property and title. Do what you must Dominic - the church has no power against the state, and the gates of hell always prevail when we try to resist - so in the meantime I must resume my prayers. And do not interrupt me!” Brother Dominic slowly slinked away while replying, “You know best my queen. I will take care of it!” -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sitting in the cozy room of the cabin Athan explained everything. After he was finished the bald headed man said in disbelief, “Liam was Stephen’s bunkmate? That is sweet Providence.” Phen spoke up, “Excuse me sir, I have two questions for you if you don’t mind?” “Call me Don.” He replied. “O.K. Don, how do you know me? And how do you know Liam?” Phen was leaning forward in eager anticipation of some secret about his life that he longed to know. Don took off his glasses again and started to rub them,”Believe it or not I met both you and your wife Dia 12 years ago. At the time I knew her as Lydia Dias. She was pregnant and wanted to have a natural birth. Where she worked, Madam Curie Labs, demanded that she have a non-invasive routine abortion procedure done during lunch hour like every other lady who was found to be, as the state puts it, a carrier. We all know, if she refused she was to be immediately terminated from her high paying job as engineering technician in the same laboratory I was working in...and in course, be blacklisted from all subsequent government positions.” Phen said, “I remember when we both decided to have our child because the study group we were a part of at the time helped show us what God in Heaven thinks about the baby in the womb and how conception is the true beginning of life.” Looking to Drew he said, “Ara was so beautiful when she was born...I’m sorry Don, continue.” “No problem,” Putting his spectacles back on he continued, “Well to make a long story short, she came to me because we worked together in the same lab for many years. Over the course of time she learned about my past university work and how I studied family medicine. I knew I could trust her, so I secretly disclosed my involvement with rescuing the babies of pregnant women by giving assistance to the black market birthing services. I insisted on the day of the delivery she bring you to the birthing safe house so you could be there to care for her when you brought her and Ara home. I met you a couple times preparing for the birth and after, but each time we talked I was in my scrubs so you probably don't remember me?” “Wow, I’m sorry, that whole night was a blur because it was so late and secretive. I was terrified. And Don, why do you keep calling me Stephen?” Don said, “Because of Lydia. She did like not like taking the Christian roots out her name or yours or even Andrew's, her faith meant everything to her?” Phen wiped a tear, “It sure did. And she always referred to me as Stephen at home. Now how about Liam?” “Athan hired a team of laboratory chemists to work on the Xenon blockers once his father was exiled by the state. We ran in the same medical circles, and he first met me and the team of researchers he put together to plan here at our community were we would have cover from government interference. He financed our research and Liam was a part of that.” Don said. Athan jumped in, “Liam took one of the formulas which we code named 'Milk', and he and a team of three chemists went to work using the sophisticated labs in upstate Ohio where there was the proper equipment needed to manufacture it. Somehow they were compromised, and right when he was getting close to developing the blockers he was arrested and taken to the rivet factory where he met you.” “So…” Don questioning Athan asked, “All this time we thought the formula he took with him was a failure, but by the looks of Stephen, I guess not? It has worked all this time?” Athan said, “Yes, that is correct! And the next big question I have is for you Don...I hope you still have the files on ‘Milk’?” “I do!”
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