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Chapter 01  by Joe Bandel |
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The music seemed to lift and carry Tobal Kane as he swirled his partner through the many colored mists. The strains of the Blue Danube waltz echoed around the dimly lit auditorium as costumed dancers appeared and disappeared like ghosts from another time and place. The elaborate decorations struck a chord deep inside him and he didn't know why. Fog generators created an eerie atmosphere of colored fog that seemed to float and move over the polished hardwood floor of Albert Pike auditorium. The school had done a good job with the decorations and costumes but that didn't surprise Tobal. They were the best money could buy. Tavistock Educational in the City-State of New Rome drew from the wealthiest and most privileged families in the world. There was a waiting list of families wanting to get their children enrolled. At times he had wondered how his uncle had managed to get him enrolled. This year's Halloween theme was a perennial favorite, Freemasonry and secret societies in general. That was appropriate given the nature of Tavistock Educational, a small influential private school. Throughout history the elite and powerful moved within small secret societies far removed from the public eye. They met for many purposes. Not all of them were strictly legal or moral. The stated purpose of Tavistock Educational was to train and educate the next generation of world leaders. Freemasonry, Rosicrucianism, Templars, the Bavarian Illuminati and the occult practices of those mysterious people known as the Pennsylvania Dutch from the black forests of southern Germany certainly all had their roles to play in the founding of what used to be the United States of America. George Washington and all of the early presidents were known Master Masons. The Boston Tea Party was known to be a lodge activity. The Templars were high level Masons with political connections in continental Europe and in England. The Masonic symbols of the level and the square were widely known and recognized. Tobal saw many of these symbols as they circled the auditorium. Lesser known were the secretive Rosicrucians. Benjamin Franklin was the head of the Order in the Americas and Thomas Jefferson was his successor. The Rosicrucians were an inner circle that stemmed from the Jacobite rebellion and protestant split away from the Holy Universal Catholic Church. In England the Imperator was Sir Francis Bacon. In Germany it was Martin Luther who put the Rosy Cross on his family coat of arms. It was not widely known that the Rosicrucians under the leadership of Sir Francis Bacon were responsible for the creation of modern Freemasonry as a social experiment. Secrets within secrets were the hallmark of the Bavarian Illuminati founded by ex-Jesuit Adam Weishaupt. This associate of Benjamin Franklin and curious look alike to George Washington was always suspected of political connections with the early colonial Americans and founding fathers but it was never proved. The Illuminati always cropped up from time to time in various incarnations loosely modeled on the original and always deeply involved in world politics. The symbol of the red rose and golden cross hung on a chain around Tobal's neck. What could be said about the Pennsylvania Dutch? Those were simple folk seeking only the freedom of religion to worship as they wished in peace. The Black Forrest area of southern Germany was a stronghold of occultism and according to legend the birth place of Christian Rozencruez, the founder of the Rosicrucian Order. The Teutonic Knights or "Mariam Ritters" of Germany were the "Knights of Mary". They were keepers of the occult secrets of early gnostic Christianity when Mary, mother of Jesus, and Mary Magdalene, wife of Jesus and mother of his daughter, Sarah, were secreted away from the Roman Catholic Church deep in southern France. The lost blood line of Jesus led through the Merovingians into the nobility of Europe along with the "Divine Right to Rule" supported by the Roman Catholic Church. Many of these secrets and occult practices made their way into the very folklore of these otherwise common folk looking for religious freedom in the new world. But that was ancient history. Still, it was the "Divine Right to rule" that connected the families of these students at Tavistock Educational. For one reason or another these families felt they had been given a divine mandate to rule the rest of humanity. That belief in their own elitism and superiority led them to want the very best for their children in terms of education and social advantage. Each family was hoping that their own children might be "invited" into a higher and more secret elite society and social strata than they had reached on their own, a group so secret that they didn't even know existed. Perhaps that is what the families desired but tonight they were just teenagers dressed in costumes enjoying the music and dance. They had practiced ballroom dancing for months in preparation of this evening and spirits were high. Tobal was tall, slender and well built with dark hair and ruggedly handsome features. It didn't matter what he wore. He always looked good. He was vain about his looks and relied on them more than he needed to make favorable impressions. His eyes were piercing brown but tonight they twinkled with good humor. He was smiling as he swept his beautiful dance partner across the floor in graceful sweeping circles in easy rhythm with the music. He was dressed as a colonial American militia officer with a blue jacket, white pantaloons, polished black boots and long silver sword that gleamed in its curved scabbard. He had spent two painful weeks learning how to wear the sword without self-injury. So far it the practice had paid off. His dance partner, Fiona, looked like a dream tonight. He brushed her light chestnut hair off her bare shoulders and felt her smooth skin beneath his fingers. His breath caught in his throat, she was so beautiful. They had been going out for about a month now and things were really going well. She was wearing a sky blue evening gown that might not strictly have existed during colonial times but should have. It accented her figure and made his pulse race, or perhaps it was her perfume that was driving him crazy. All he knew was that he was feeling a bit intoxicated and it was from her. It was a good feeling and it looked like it was going to be a fun night. A life size statue of a man dressed in Egyptian clothing with a dog's head gave Tobal chills. It was Anubis, the Egyptian God of the dead. Statues of other Egyptian Gods and Goddesses were placed strategically around the auditorium with small shrines next to them. He could almost sense the presence of these ancient spirits hovering near their statues and cavorting within the ball room. He knew each of their stories and the role they assumed. It was basic history at Tavistock Educational. Tobal shifted a little and closed his eyes forcing these ghostly images out of his mind. He moved his right hand up a little, feeling the softness of Fi's breast beneath the silk fabric. Sliding his thumb gently over the silk he felt her nipple beneath the fabric. Fi was certainly not wearing a bra and he heard her catch her breath as he gently traced his finger along her jaw. He smelled the perfume of violets on her neck and in her hair. His eyes sparkled as he looked into her blue ones. "You're a good dancer Fi," he whispered into her ear. She smiled, "So are you," and snuggled more closely into his arms. She was enjoying this as much as he was. He felt her breasts against his chest and knew she could feel him against her too. They teased each other, dancing close and moving slowly together. Gradually they moved faster and faster, weaving in and out of sight as dangerous patches of colored fog rolled across the floor. Giggling, they spun together, lost in themselves and caught up in the sweeping movements of the dance. They laughed and shouted good natured comments toward some of the other dancers they passed in the gloom. There were narrow misses as other couples appeared suddenly out of the fog and just as quickly disappeared back into it. Faces were momentarily lit up by strobing lights and once more plunged into shadow. Tobal buried his face in her tangled hair. He was breathing in her perfume eagerly and nibbling at her ear. His eyes were closed as they whirled to the right and collided violently with another pair of dancers. He staggered. Letting go of Fi and turning around in stunned amazement felt something caught beneath his right boot. There was a sharp tug and a ripping sound. He felt a gown try to pull away from his boot and then give way. Panic clutched at his throat and heart as he blinked in the fog trying to see what had happened. "You bastard!" His eyes widened in disbelief as he faced an angry red head. Her eyes flashed hatred and her emerald evening gown hung down around her waist exposing small white breasts, topped with rosy pink nipples. Helplessly his gaze locked on them as she spun furiously knocking him to the floor. She was on top of him instantly screaming and clawing at his eyes. "No! It was an accident!" He screamed as he felt fingernails tearing deeply into his face. After that he remembered no more. Tobal awoke in the hospital confused and groggy. His muscles ached from being in bed too long. He did not know where he was or what had happened. Gradually memory returned. He groaned and reached his right hand up to touch his face. He felt his entire face covered with gauze and panic began to grip him. Everything was black and he couldn't see. Desperately he tried sitting up and was reaching up with both hands to rip off the gauze when he felt an arm pushing him gently but firmly back down as an alarm started going off somewhere on his left. "Take it easy son," Uncle Harry said pressing him back down into the bed. "You've got to rest. You've gone through a rough time boy." "What happened?" Tobal asked weakly. "Some young lady almost gouged your eye out," chuckled his uncle dryly. "She scratched the hell out of your face. Peeled it like an apple. Doc says you are going to have some nasty scars. How did you get her that mad at you anyway?" "I don't remember," Tobal whispered. A flush of heat and embarrassment crept into his face as memory returned, tightening his skin and causing a burst of pain to flash across his face. "I was dancing and bumped into her, then I turned around and her dress tore. The next thing I remember is her clawing at me like a wild animal." "I can't see!" He panicked clutching and tearing at the bandages. His uncle calmed him down once more pulling his hands away from his face and the bandages. "Well, it's the bandages, that's why you can't see," his uncle continued, "there was something on her fingernails, to strengthen them or something and they peeled away some of your skin. We don't know why but it's raising hell with the healing process. The doc tried pulling the skin back together and sewing you up but there will be some scarring. It's going to be awhile before you get healed up. Don't worry about it, doc says your eye is going to be fine, but it was a close thing and he doesn't want any infection setting in. You rest now, just lay back and sleep a little more. We'll talk about it later OK?" Tobal heard someone move near his uncle and felt something tug at his arm as the nurse injected something into the IV tube fastened to his wrist. He felt a wave of dizziness sweep over him and barely heard the creak of his uncle's wheelchair as it left the room. He awoke to the smell of violets in the room. "It's about time you woke up," came Fi's cheery voice from the edge of the bed. He moved his head cautiously and opened his left eye. Fi was sitting in a chair near the hospital window. She set down the magazine she had been reading and moved closer. "How are you doing," she asked in a concerned tone? "I've really been worried about you." She reached out and gently touched his arm. He pulled it away. Fi was the last person he wanted to see right now. "I don't know," he mumbled. "I just woke up." He looked around the room for the first time. There were flowers and get well cards. The room felt hot and made his skin itch. "Is my uncle here?" He asked in a more friendly tone and tried to smile but winced instead. "Oh," her hand involuntarily leapt to her mouth. "Are you alright?" She rose out of the chair and came toward the bed with her arms out to enfold him in a hug. He roughly pushed her away, feeling a pang in his chest and a burning in his eyes. "I'm fine," he said bitterly. "I just want to be left alone, ok?" There was a hurt and wounded look in her eyes and the beginning of tears. "Can I come back later then?" She pleaded. "I'm really sorry about what happened. I came yesterday but you were in surgery and then sleeping. Maybe I can come over to your Uncle's and we can talk." She smiled bravely. "Uncle Harry doesn't like visitors." He lied weakly. "Maybe we can get together back at school after Christmas break. How does that sound?" "Sure, back at school," she said softly and reached for her purse. Tobal didn't see the tears in her eyes or hear the break in her voice as she turned away. "Take care of yourself Tobal." He watched as she left the room. All he knew was that he wanted to be left alone. It never occurred to him how rude he was being until much later and then it was too late. He never saw Fiona again. He never even said goodbye. A few hours later Uncle Harry came and took him home to the estate. In the weeks that followed he got cards, letters and emails from his friends and schoolmates, invitations to parties and dances. He threw them all away without bothering to even look at them. It was vain and shallow but he had always depended on his looks. Now he felt afraid and unsure of himself. He didn't know how his friends would react when they saw him. He hadn't seen his own face yet and he was not sure that he wanted to. Thanksgiving came and went. There was no real celebration in the Kane household unless it was a private celebration held by the staff. His uncle was an embittered cripple and widower confined to a wheelchair. It was only Tobal's injury and depression that prompted his uncle's apparent interest now. Tobal knew that it would not last. Uncle Harry was his only living relative. His parents were dead and he had no brothers or sisters. There was a time he had felt much closer to his uncle but that was long ago. It seemed Uncle Harry was as preoccupied as Tobal was. "I don't understand what the Federation wants with a cripple," he snarled at dinner. Lt. Col. Harry Kane was being re-activated and he was not happy about it. "I need to go away for a few days and see what they want. Can you handle things around here by yourself? Maybe you could have some friends over. How bout that girl friend of yours?" Tobal squirmed uncomfortably and felt his face flush with heat. "We, ah, broke up," he said lamely. His uncle snorted in disgust. "Well suit yourself." He turned and wheeled himself out of the room. "I've got to get ready." Three days later his uncle returned and Tobal hardly recognized him. Overnight his uncle looked ten years older. His shoulders were more stooped and bags had formed under his eyes giving him a haunted look. It didn't take long to realize his uncle was avoiding him. The tension in the house was unbearable. Other times Tobal tried to deliberately avoid his uncle. As the days passed he never knew if his uncle was in the house or called away on some important military business and he hardly cared. They had never been that close. His only curiosity over the years had been how a simple Federation Officer had managed the nearly impossible feat of enrolling him in Tavistock Educational. One day he asked his uncle at dinner about it. "It was what your parents would have wanted," was all uncle Harry would say. Tobal never knew if his parents had moved in such high circles or if it was his uncle. It never seemed important before. He didn't know why it seemed so important now. All he knew was he didn't want to go back. He dreaded the coming of Christmas because it marked his return to school. That was his truth. The weeks passed with several trips to the doctor and still he was not allowed to see his face or remove the bandages on his own. There seemed to be some problem with the healing process although he was told there was nothing to worry about. It didn't seem right and he worried about it. He took long walks in the bitter cold to get his mind off things. His uncle's estate was just a few clicks north of New Rome. New Rome was a city-state in what had once been central Minnesota. It was an area with many lakes and lots of privacy. The privacy came with a big price tag. Again Tobal wondered at the source of his uncle's obvious wealth. This time of year the lake was frozen over and he took long walks on the snow and ice. Bundling up against the bitter cold wind helped him forget his face was covered with bandages. Feeling the painful cold in his fingers helped him forget the painful lacerations on his face. With his uncle gone most of the time he was pretty much left to his own devices and he liked being outdoors. There was something fresh and clean about being alone and outdoors that gave him comfort. The ice and snow crunched loudly under his boots and the sun glared brightly. Today there were sun dogs on either side of the sun with a rainbow arch partly visible. His breath came out in clouds and burned a bit in his lungs. He turned off the lake and headed toward the stables. He had been spending a lot of time there lately and liked working with the horses. They were better company than his old friends were and they didn’t care about how he looked. As Tobal moved away from human contact he turned more and more to the silent companionship of animals and nature. If his uncle noticed he never said anything and neither did any of the staff. By Christmas Eve he was fretting and fingering the bandages on his face, itching to tear them off. He’d been instructed to leave them on one final week and today was the day they came off. With trembling fingers he went into the bathroom, found surgical scissors and began cutting the layers of gauze away from his face. He was tired of looking like a mummy. The gauze wanted to stick to his skin and he felt pain as he gently tugged at it, lifting the last of it carefully off his right eye. The bright bathroom light stabbed into his eye and sharp blinding pain flashed through his head. He closed his eyes against the pain and waited until it faded away. His fingers touched the newly healed skin and he carefully opened his eyes and looked into the mirror. "No", he screamed in horror! Four angry scars ran diagonally across his face. They were about an eighth of an inch wide. One reached from his right temple to cross his right eye, slashing across his nose and touching the corner of his mouth moving down along his jaw. That was the worst. That was the one that had almost taken his right eye out. There was a smaller one above that started at his forehead and swept across to the left eyebrow. There were two smaller ones across his cheek and along his jaw starting at the right cheekbone. They looked swollen, angry and discolored around the scar tissue that was forming. Tobal stared in horror at the face he would be carrying for the rest of his life. With a curse his fist smashed into the mirror. As it shattered into pieces he screamed and clutched his bleeding fist, sobbing as blood flowed down his wrist into the sink and onto the floor. "No! Goddess No!" he sobbed. Blood spattered and covered shards of broken mirror erased his image as he slumped toward the floor holding his ruined face. His life would never be the same. Tobal took it hard. He refused to go back to school and went from being an out going, fun loving kid to a loner. He didn't want to see any of his old friends or do any of the things he used to do. He continued spending time alone on the grounds of his uncle's estate either trekking across the frozen wasteland of the lake or riding his horse through the eerie quiet of the pine forest. He was numb inside and it was the harsh bitter cold that broke through his isolation and made him feel things, even if it was only physical discomfort. Somehow it felt good to feel something, even if it was just the cold. As the days passed the quiet solitude seared his soul with an agony that let him know he was still alive. He kept to himself, even when indoors. The few friends that came to visit were turned away until even they stopped coming. There were no more cards or invitations. One day his uncle brought up the subject of his going back to school. "I'm not going back to school", he shouted in anger at his uncle. Uncle Henry tried pleading with him, drawing him out, doing things with him, but nothing could break through the wall that Tobal had placed around himself. He was locked in his own hell of suffering and self-pity. His face had healed as well as it was going to. He had just come back from a consultation with his doctor. Plastic surgery might make the scar tissue smaller and less noticeable but his skin would always show the scars. Plastic surgery had been his final hope and he felt himself falling even deeper into a black hole of despair and apathy. It was late New Year's afternoon when his uncle Harry knocked on the bedroom door asking to come in. Tobal grudgingly stood aside and let him into the room. Uncle Harry wheeled his old fashioned wheelchair slowly into the room balancing a highly polished and elegantly crafted oak box on his lap. It was the size of a small jewelry box with ornate carving on the sides and top. With a start Tobal recognized the deeply engraved symbol on the top of the box. It was a carving of a man and woman standing side by side and holding hands. Surrounding the nude figures was a deeply engraved circle. The entire image was about three inches across and carved out of highly polished white oak. Uncle Harry laid the box gently down on the bed and wheeled his chair back making room for Tobal. He was looking at Tobal thoughtfully. There were conflicting emotions in his eyes. Dark shadows that Tobal didn't remember seeing before showed beneath them and he felt a sudden chill. This was not the uncle that he was familiar with. This was not the uncle that he had known his entire life. Looking at his uncle Tobal saw an aging cripple with unkempt hair, a sunken chest and liver spots on his skin. He still had the use of his arms but his legs were withered and misshapen like tree limbs tossed in a storm. It was hard to think of this broken man as Lt. Col. Harry Kane, Federation Officer once retired and now called back into active duty. It was hard to think of him as his father's brother. It was his uncle's eyes that gave Tobal chills though. They were burning with some unseen torment and held some unholy knowledge or wisdom that pierced Tobal to his very core. He suddenly realized he had always been a little afraid of his uncle even though he didn't know why. All he knew was his uncle was or had been at one time a very dangerous man. "It's time I gave you this," Uncle Harry waved distractedly toward the box lying on the bed. "Promised your parents that I would when you were grown up. God knows you’re grown up. You've probably aged five years in the last two months."
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