“You must be basketball players, are you?” asked a man proud of his assertion. The toilets were still occupied, he had plenty of time to make conversation. He furrowed his plump face and narrowed his eyes to the four tallest men aboard the plane. “What team do you play for?”
Gadiel turned in his narrow seat. “Team?”
“Oh, boy! Here we go again.” Whispered Leo under his breath, adjusting his sitting position, his long and strong legs were going numb in his restrictive seat.
Amidor gave his Sachapuyo brothers a knowing look before turning to the man. “Sorry to disappoint you, we don’t play basketball.” Amidor said with his most charming smile on his crescent-moon face, “We actually prefer soccer as a sport to play and watch. But not modern soccer, of course,”
The other Cloud Warriors shook their heads, understanding what he was about to say.
“But we truly love the ancient game of soccer, where the strongest army scored goals with the losers’ heads.” Amidor concluded with a regretful expression and a sigh. “It’s a pity the rules have changed.”
“And that will do!” Hadi said, amused, glancing at the passengers around them.
The people who heard the interaction gawked at the four with wide eyes.
“What a swift adaptation to these times, Brothers!” Gadiel observed disapprovingly in his ancient Healer language.
“Of course they aren’t basketball players!” said a young woman, snatching a picture of the four ancient ones. “You played vampires in a movie or were you mutants? I’ve seem you somewhere.” She tried to recall, scrolling down celebrity pictures on her smartphone.
“Oy!” sighed Gadiel, checking his watch just as the pilot’s voice chirped above them. Preparing for landing. Local time 10:00 AM. Weather: sunny without a chance of rain.
They were Sachapuyo warriors: Gadiel, Leo, Hadi, and Amidor. Though they appeared young, they were closer to a millennium of life on earth and maybe more in other realms. Most recently, they’d spent the last seven hundred years in their personal time capsules, a complex of sarcophagi in the heart of the Peruvian Cloud Forest, until being woken by Mila Ferro and other members of Cherut, a UN ghost organization.
Their adaptation to modern life seemed easy and supernatural on the outside. But the inner work each of them performed was as arduous as taming a dragon. One side of their nature thirsted for violence and the other desired peace and life. There were two competing wills struggling within one entity. Day by day, each of them had to surrender their innate inclinations to the will of the Highest. They embraced who gave them a new life and purpose for peace and healing on the planet.
The four descended to the tarmac. Each of them was frozen at an age that would take, not months, but centuries to change. Age wasn’t a relevant attribute for the purpose of their existence, but for the sake of the curious mind, they seemed somewhere in their late twenties. Their features appealing to the sight, each an exquisite representation of earthly races and divine creations, for such was their origin: earth and heaven interwoven. They were dressed in elegant attire for their apparent ages, fresh and hip for modern times. Far in the past were the alpaca and cotton tunics and thin leather trousers they’d worn in the Cloud Forest.
On the tarmac, the four warriors breathed the welcoming scents of Israel. It was a stimulating blend of travelers’ expensive perfumes, spices, and aircraft gasoline. They would have to wait until getting to their apartment in Jerusalem, to recognize the sweet and tart scent of pomegranate and citrus plants mingling deliciously with grape vines, each in bloom.
The four quickly moved into the shuttle bus and sat facing each other, clutching their carry-on suitcases to prevent them from rolling away. The morning sun filtered through the windows revealing dust particles dancing before them and giving Gadiel’s naturally glossy gray hair a glorious shine. It framed his handsome square face and lit up his deep amethyst-colored eyes.
“Although we come from different places, it feels as if I am returning home,” Gadiel said thoughtfully in his old Healer language, the oldest form of Hebrew. Each word left a sweet taste on his tongue as he spoke. Each phrase became stronger as they left his lips. He glanced at his fellow sojourners, his brothers for life.
“I know what you mean. Perhaps we feel this way because we are close to the place where everything began,” Leo answered, his golden skin contrasting with his white cotton shirt, all in harmony with his radiant sunshine hair and deep blue eyes. He regarded his brothers thoughtfully as he spoke. “The place where our kind was created before everything, even before the great voyage in search of peace.” He opened and closed his fingers as if gripping his ancient sword. It pained him to have been separated from the one token of his ancient identity. But Eldad Shalit, the Israeli special agent and member of Cherut, had carried it into the land in his private flight a couple of weeks prior to their arrival. His sword was waiting for him at the house—their new home.
In cooperation with Cherut, the United Nations ghost organization to which the Cloud Warriors now belonged, each received full names, modernized professions, and other details that would advance their mission of protecting the Sacred Garden and the knowledge developed there.
Gadiel Shein, Leo Ackerman, Hadi Kalef, and Amidor Guillou stood stoically in the nationals’ immigration check lines. They waited with their passports and national identification cards ready for clearing and meeting Eldad outside the airport.
“The last immigration and customs interrogation to endure.” Hadi said, joining a line for national returning home, as did the others.
“Our presence in this time and land will be established.” Leo added, opening his passport to the first page and prepared to show it to the custom agent. The piece of paper reduced thousands years of life into a few over twenty.
“Please, remember not to lose your temper. Stay calm and relaxed despite the length of this interrogation. Eldad told us to keep in mind the persistent attacks this country has suffered. The constant questioning of friend or foe is natural,”
“Understandable. It’s their Kuelap and Sacred Garden to protect,” Amidor said, stepping to the check counter.
Each Warrior showed their worn-out but newly issued documents. They didn’t mean to show off their meanderings around the world; it had been necessary to create a presence. But to those stuck in one place behind a desk, that’s what it looked like. The navy-blue books in the immigration agent’s hands seemed to be witness to an adventure around the world à la Jules Verne. It was decorated like a collector’s catalogue of visas and stamps for multiple entrances and exits from many different. Every detail depicted in their passports had been recorded on secure government clouds prior to their arrival, yet the Warriors expressed their preference for paper books as a souvenir of their fantastic voyage that had lasted a whole year.
“Your travels around the world are impressive! You’ve really seen the globe!” commented the agent, surveying the intriguing man in front of him, and glancing at the other three standing with the other well-trained customs agents.
Each officer at his respective counter excused themselves and stepped away of the counter to a corner to compare the ID cards the Cloud Warriors provided. They called on a superior and proceeded to check again on a different computer. Then the officers without finding any red flags, returned to the expectant warriors for one last round of questions.
“Are you Jewish? How often do you go to Shul? When do we celebrate Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur? What do you do on those days? Do you keep the day of rest?”
The four answered calmly in modern Hebrew as rehearsed with Eldad.
“Well, Dr. Shein, here is your passport and ID back.” Said the agent, studying Gadiel and the other three.
The immigration agents had to loosen their grip. A side form their image nothing was out of the ordinary. This was a group of friends returning home from a world trip.
“What an amazing journey you had.” concluded the agent to Gadiel.
The Cloud Warrior accepted his documents and put them in his blazer’s pocket. “It feels like hundreds of years in the making.” replied the Gadiel, the ancient Healer with a subtle smile and a twinkle in his big almond-shaped eyes. “I imagine you’ve done the same after the military service. You must know that after a while, three months or so, we begin to feel homesick.”
“Indeed, Dr. Shein.” The agent wrapped up, nodding. “Well, then, welcome back to the State of Israel, the Land.”
Connections in High Places
Lisbon, Portugal, 2005
Kei Sato glanced through the window when the pilot announced the plane was landing. Lisbon spread its arms. The city appeared candid and transparent, sunny, and graceful. The city of the seven hills stretched across ancient remains, domed cathedrals, and red roofs, providing a view like a work of art designed and structured over centuries. The Portas do Sol, the sun gates, came into view. They overlooked ancient fortifications built and occupied by Phoenicians, Carthaginians, Romans, and Moors. As the plane began to descend, the stunning terraces of the picturesque miradouros set around the towering hilltops, became visible. It wasn’t a wonder why Eva Bosco had made Portugal her hideout.
Kei left his arrival gate and made his way through the airport’s labyrinth into the city. He didn’t have to wait for a taxi as his visit had been scheduled. As soon as he stepped on the sunny street, he spotted his contact: a young dark-haired man with bronze skin, sunglasses shielding his dark eyes from the blinding sun. He got out of the car and waved.
“Welcome back, Kei.” Ruben Dov, Eva Bosco’s representative, greeted Kei with an honest and strong handshake. He gestured with a hand wave for Kei to take his place inside the bulletproof car with slightly polarized windows.
Ruben drove through the narrow and ancient streets of cobblestone to a quiet side of the city. This area was reserved for solitude, lulled by the Atlantic sea waves. After a forty-minute journey, in the Serra de Sintra, Eva Bosco’s mansion rose on the summit of a green mountain around which the ocean could be seen and heard roaring like a thousand lions.
The woman standing on her balcony overlooking the sea, saw the car crossing the gates and a hopeful smile appeared on her youthful face. It was a special occasion as guests to the mansion were extremely scarce. Eva Bosco hurried down the limestone stairs brightened by the sun filtering through the ample windows.
She waited anxiously, standing in the polished entrance hall, which resembled an avant-garde dome’s atrium. It had a glass ceiling which let the light flood in. There were all sorts of plants elegantly placed, spreading their branches wide and high, creating an indoor temple to nature. The mansion smelled of blooming flowers and sea breeze entering through the opened door.
“Kei, my dear, it’s so good to see you,” Eva exclaimed as loud as her refined voice allowed her. She extended her silky hands to Kei. By the workings of her special gift, Eva had the appearance of a thirty-year-old, although she was over hundred years old.
“Eva, beautiful as always. Time doesn’t leave a trace upon you.” Kei held her hand and kissed her cheek, regretting his comment, but trusting Eva knew it wasn’t ill-intended.
“The greatest gift and the greatest curse, my dear, as you know. And as the years go by, it becomes more and more the latter. An affliction that keeps me hiding from the world growing old around me. Youth and longevity, like fleurs de mal, augurs yet another heartache, another loved one arriving to the grave before me…” Eva trailed off, leaving the sentence incomplete, afraid of setting in motion the end of someone she loved. She had buried two husbands, lost her daughter-in-law Flora, her son David, and several friends.
“Aches that we both share,” said Kei, following Eva meditatively.
“I know, my dear. Our loved ones were taken from us too soon.” Eva conceded, holding on to Kei’s arm and guiding him up the stairs to the terrace where they would hold their meeting. Into the light where things are revealed and not in a dark corner were evil lurks.
“Well, there aren’t definitive victories or permanent defeats. As the saying goes: we gain some and lose some, whatever the situation,” answered Kei, sheltering Eva’s hand on his arm.
“You sound like my David.” Eva smiled and patted his arm.
“We grew up together.” Kei smiled back at her as his recollections of her paraded through his memory. Eva stuck in the same youthful age in which he had met her. She had cared for him when he needed a mother. Everything she provided for David, she also gave Kei in equal measures, especially two important elements: love and time.
“The two brothers,” Eva said, taking her place under the elegant outdoor canopy and signaling with her delicate hand for him to be by her side. “Sit down, please. Nothing has changed, my son; this is your home.”
Kei took his place next to her.
“I hope you don’t mind. Ruben is joining us for Mila’s sake,” Eva said, signaling for her representative to sit across from both of them.
The housekeeper and a helper left three chilled glasses and a bottle of new wine and fresh seafood and charcuterie.
“Do you have any news of my Mila?” Eva faced Kei, her beautiful but sorrow-filled honey-colored eyes searched for information in Kei’s eyes.
“Nothing. It’s as if the earth has swallowed her up,” Kei answered, gripping Eva’s hand.
“Not the earth, Kei, but Masae Norfolk. It would have been a thousand times better to be swallowed by the earth…and not only for Mila’s sake but for those who will be affected.” Eva sighed, looking at the railing where she and little Mila used to stand to gaze at the ocean and talk. The scenes passed before her eyes, so real that she didn’t hear Kei’s words until his gentle touch on her hand brought her to the instant. “I’m sorry. I tend to get lost in my thoughts. It’s a privilege of the lonely and old. Our overloaded minds are more eloquent than our tongues.”
Kei smiled without judgment and without haste, as Eva was indeed a mother to him. And not only that, but the most important sponsor of Cherut’s work, the phantom group he led together with Svend Falken. Eva, after burying her first husband in Peru, moved to Portugal as an ambassador’s wife. How similar and different from Kei’s real mother, Masae Nagata, she was. Masae had also been an ambassador’s wife, but left everything to become Masae Norfolk, the queen of the pharmaceutical multinational company: Pharma-NorTech. But Eva was his constant supporter.
“Well, I didn’t call you to witness my old mind’s degradation. You see, Time is at work after all,” Eva said, winking and a couple of gentle lines appeared in the corners of her eyes. “I just wanted to emphasize that neither you nor Cherut are alone in this quest, which is an extremely personal quest for me.” Eva glanced at Ruben. “As you know, it’s been a while since I have tried to infiltrate Masae’s laboratories, ever since we found out that David wasn’t dead but was working for the Norfolks.”
“An ambitious plan.”
“Yes, indeed. At first, I didn’t understand David’s motivation. Why would he abandon his wife and daughter? Then, just like you, I understood. Love has the power to move us into helpless pursuits. For the safety of our operation on my end,” Eva glanced at Ruben who led a private special forces group. “We’ll keep some details sealed until the right moment. I know you understand.”
“Of course,” Kei answered, nodding at Ruben.
“My granddaughter is a priority to me, as I know she is for you as well,” Eva said. “But the other reason I wanted to see you is to know how you are holding up. The blows you have received in these past years have been very painful.” She looked at him filled with compassion. “In a way, you have lost a brother, a sister, and a daughter.” Eva studied his taciturn eyes, holding his right hand between her own. “Here I am, Kei. We will always be family. Time and blood do not matter, my son. We are united by the bonds of love with which fate have bound us. Never forget or doubt it, Kei.”
“I know, my losses are also yours,” Kei replied, carrying Eva’s delicate hand to his lips.
“Do you remember the Dark Heralds poem? It’s been circling in my mind.” Eva gazed at the calm waters of the ocean. “There are such hard blows in life . . . I don't know. Blows like God's hate; as if before them the residue of all suffering puddles in the soul. I don't know.” Eva sipped her wine to wet her dried throat, then continued: “They are few; but they are. They open dark furrows in the fiercest of faces and the strongest of loins. They are perhaps the horses of barbaric Attilas or the dark heralds that Death sends upon us.”
Kei then recited the poet’s words, understanding Eva had unearthed these words as a way to express the sorrow in his heart: “And the man . . . poor . . . poor. He turns his eyes, like when a pat calls us upon the shoulder; he turns his crazed eyes, and all that was lived becomes stagnant, like a puddle of guilt, in the gaze. There are such hard blows in life… I don't know.” Kei became quiet. Loss, pain, and suffering were universal. “Heart-felt words by our dear poet César Vallejo.”
“Oh, Kei, you are as Peruvian as I am,” said Eva, leaning back on her seat. “I used to believe Mila’s poetic spurs came from David’s bohemian side or Flora’s gentle wisdom, but it was from you all along.”
“I’m glad poetry isn’t everything in Mila’s soul. Poets and lovers of poetry, feel too much and too deep,” answered Kei, turning his gaze to the sea. “But in this life, I’m afraid, she’s forced to be a Barbaric Attila.”
“And if she stays with Masae, she’ll be her Dark Herald of Death. Of that, I am sure. We cannot afford to lose hope or time.” Eva gripped Kei’s arm; her saddened eyes fixed on him. Her voice breaking by the pain as in a prayer. “We have to find her, Kei. She is a lost soul in great danger. We must find our girl and together destroy Masae’s plans of death.” Eva looked at Ruben and then at Kei. “This might be the last thing I have to do in this life, so there is not holding back on my part. Let’s harness the strength and wisdom that pain is carving in our hearts to find an open door and turn the tide on our favor. So what about a scientist gone astray, but finding the light?”