“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 y............