Monday, March 24, 2025

38 YUKON

 “The Yukon. What about the Yukon?”

“You are kidding me, right?”

“No, you lived in the wilds; you trapped and hunted. You know how to skin a buffalo.”

“There are no buffaloes in the Yukon; be serious.”

“John, that was just to illustrate the point. We can go off-grid. Choose who and what we want to become. Choose who we tell of where we are. And maybe to find out what the ‘Powers in Paris’ are up to, we tell people we are unsure that we are moving elsewhere and ‘spies in our midst’ will out themselves.”

“That is an idea. But why the Yukon?”

“Because it will be a big change from here in Recife or our last place in California. Maybe a dancehall in Whitehorse or Dawson, or we could have a crematorium on Lake Labarge.”

“I love you, Evie, but you are bananas.”

 

Whitehorse was the capital of the Yukon Territory. The city was about thirty kilometres south of Lake Labarge, which was fifty kilometres long. Richthofen Island was about one-third of the way northward on the western side of the lake. On the eastern shore, they bought or arranged a long-term land lease opposite the island.

Jonathan brought with him three float planes, and they ran a flight service for government, Native, and tourist uses. The homes and offices, including homes for the pilots and their partners, were built near the shore. They had a floating dock for the planes and a motorized barge that, in the ice-free time, would offer tours to tourists and pick up supplies and equipment ‘up lake’ at Upper Labarge.

Two years later, they had a thriving business with only one other Devi, Abigail O’Leary, who had chosen to join them, much to their satisfaction.

Satellite phones, television and communications kept them anonymously connected with the outside world.

 

Robert Allen Stewart and his wife Rose, whom they had first met in Australia, were their main conduit to that world. The Stewarts had only a generic email address for John and Evie, which bounced and relayed through random servers worldwide. They were in Arizona and had told them that Lucy Boudreau, who had been an outspoken advocate of the progressive faction of the Devi, had been found murdered in Bangkok. The murder had been exceptional as it appeared that she was confined, tied and wounded to the point that she had slowly bled out and died, a slow drift death.

It appeared to many to be a warning.

The Scotts also did not know where John and Evie were. They lived on the other side of Canada in St John, Newfoundland.

Ten years after moving to the Yukon, they relocated to rural Eastern Ontario for three years, where they both took short-term college employment. At the end of that time, they moved back to Lake Labarge after all the pilots had been swapped out and replaced.

 They were told that the Authentic had launched a search for them, to the extent that they were using Devi, who were traditionalists, to search many of LaJade’s locations and hold and question some people for days.


The schism between the two parties reached a breaking point when Traditionists assassinated two Standard politicians who were pushing the agendas of the Progressives.

There were retaliatory attacks and counterattacks. Each may have killed only one or two Devi, but the concerns about the Standards' body count were irrelevant.

Unlike when a Devi is in proximity to a young Standard when they die and release unfulfilled life energies, when a Devi dies, the result is the opposite. Suppose a Devi is near a Devi when they die, and the dying Devi has lived well beyond seventy or eighty years. In that case, a life energy vacuum is created, and a Devi can lose some of their ‘accumulated’ life energy. Thus, Devi wars have always been avoided.

 After another ten years in the Yukon and 3 years out, another five years in, three years out, and five back in, the century was approaching the two-thirds point.

Throughout all the years in or out of the Yukon, the barge hauling tourists and supplies provided a cover for their private project.

It was not uncommon for any business outside of any town to have heavy equipment such as backhoes or bulldozers. ‘The Four Gold Dots’ flight and lodge was no exception. The barge was ferrying food, fuel and tons of building supplies. Many of the tourists were specialized tradespersons or labourers. They were recruited in Alaska, southern Alberta, or British Colombia and very well paid for a season's work and to stay quiet.

 

By 2040, they had what they called a ‘Love Nest.’ It was a three-story, 25-bed partial underground habitat supported by solar power, easily raised wind turbines and water treatment equipment. It was installed with low-voltage refrigerators and stoves, a communications centre with satellite up and downlinks, a fitness and recreation area, several all-terrain vehicles, and two two-person ultralights. 

In this case, two dozen people, or Devi, could easily ride out at least fifty years of chaos, but an entire century would be possible. 

By 2060, it was too late for the Progressive Devi's ideas to affect world events, and if the Traditionalists had seen the error of their ways, it was too late for them to switch sides.

The chaos started with water wars and freshwater rights over allocations and usage of lakes and rivers in multiple jurisdictions. Then, the droughts came and got worse by the year. There was another dustbowl in the Nebraska area of the breadbasket of America.

The Sonora desert in Southern Arizona moved north into Utah and Colorado, far enough north to border Wyoming. It was no longer a sand desert but a heated desert. Killing millions of trees in the Rocky Mountains, and with no winter snowpack, the forest died of thirst or in miles-wide fires.

National food stockpiles and reserves gathered over the past decades were rapidly exhausted if the governments kept control. If the governments were negligent, they would have been overrun and ransacked. Droughts also affected the farmland of Ukraine and Argentina. It was not climate change as much as climate collapse.

In other areas, the Monsoons of Southeast Asia were either catastrophic or failed to materialize.

The great rivers of Asia, from the Euphrates to the Yangtze, were reduced in flow by eighty percent because the glaciers of the Himalayas, Hindu Kush and Pamirs had disappeared.

Without foliage on trees, soil erosion became an issue. And that became many more problems, from washing away the topsoil to filling rivers with silt, and the soil with fertilizers, minerals, and salts began to kill the oceans.

If you had arable land, fish stocks or access to clean water, your neighbouring country or the following country wanted it.

 

The reduced water in the rivers had a serious crisis point: The waters lacked enough flow to produce hydroelectricity for society to continue to function. Water wars soon became power wars and then blood wars. Oil was no longer a commodity of war, and democracies fell as a compassionate government was no longer an effective government. If there were any extra resources, they went directly into a nation's defence or offensive capabilities.

 

There were great migrations, and anyone in the tropics faced multiple threats—reduced food production due to increased heat. The increased heat killed the trees and vegetation, creating new deserts and more heat.

Hundreds of millions of refugees fled by whatever means they could to cooler countries, not being aware that nowhere was getting cooler. The tropics were becoming unlivable.

In the coastal areas, the sea level was rising, and the more significant threat was salt water moving inland and displacing fresh water in underground aquifers. 

For example, in North America, the parts of Florida that were not flooded, the remaining arable land became barren. People in the tropics moved towards the United States and Canada. Millions on the Eastern seaboard were moving inland, and the inland was becoming desert.

In Europe, tens of millions of Africans crossed the Mediterranean, only to find Spain and most of southern France in a desert. Great rivers like the Rhone, Rhine, and Danube were streams, and the Alps lacked snow.

If militaries were not deployed against fighting other nations, they were fighting the nationals of those nations. 

A few rogue states that had developed nuclear weapons used them until those nations were convinced not to by economic, social or military force. Biological and chemical agents were used in some conflicts. Still, many nations used these weapons on their people, both as riot or crowd control and indirectly as a tool to reduce population.

 

People in the scientific community had long feared that a nuclear war would cause a ‘nuclear winter, a cooling of the planet. The opposite was true. The smoke, ash and particulates that travelled to the polar regions darkened the ice and, where the whiteness of the ice had in the past reflected light and heat, in what was known as the Albedo Effect, now absorbed the heat, and the ice melted quicker.  

 

The bunker they had built was low-tech. Media, literature, and popular culture all said that the newest and latest technology would be of great value in the end times. But knowing how to cut a tree was much more valuable than understanding AI or being able to code.

The Scotts and Stewarts were invited to join them. The start of the end was not unexpected; it was ‘telegraphed’ by a few natural and societal events. Massive fires, involving tens of thousands of hectares in Central Siberia, two seasons in which the flooding of the lower Nile in Egypt was far below the previous minimum, and a corn blight on the crops of the American Midwest.

Panic had reached an epidemic level.

 

The social events were more dramatic than the natural ones. The fragmentation of the European Union and the emergence of old rivalries. Isolationist policies and a “me first” attitude by some leading industrial nations. Polarization toward one of two political systems. Embracing the Authoritarian model of a strong leader and a strong nation. Or an overly active “one for all” model of egalitarian socialism. Neither worked well.

 Nine other progressive couples, primarily from Western Canada or the American Pacific Northwest, were also in the bunker.

The low-tech approach toward technology kept them in contact with other Devi havens. After the fall of visual communications, cell and satellite phones, and the end of the Internet, their primary communication was with old ham radios and low-frequency, long-wavelength communications.

The Internet was designed to maintain communication by switching instantly from one route to another if the first one failed. Still, without a standard and widespread electrical power network, everything failed.

The collapse of the world's cities was broadcast live. Hoards of people were flocking out of London, Paris, New York, and Los Angeles with the same misguided thought: “We need food, and farmers have food.”

In these land-rich areas, the regional governments resisted the swarms of refugees until they ran out of bullets. People just tried to escape from lands with high population densities, like Bangladesh and Japan. In the former case, by foot and in the latter instance by boat. The second group either drowned in mishaps or were deliberately sunk as they approached foreign shores.

Plagues of rats and lice and unknown biological or viral epidemics swept across the remnants of society.

 

The strength of the Devi among these people grew more potent in the first years as millions died daily. But that addition of ‘unused life potential’ was of little consequence as the Devi were human and needed food. They did not need to eat as often as humans, but food was essential. 

37 DIVISON

 The years leading up to 2005 were quiet. 2010 came and passed, and finally, when 2015 arrived, it was their twentieth year in Brazil. As much as they liked the city, the Devi community and the Brazilian way of life, it was time to move on.

“John. We have not heard from the Authentic for quite some time. She usually sends a note about it being time to relocate. She has not yet, and I was asking, in a discrete manner, the other Devi, and they said that there was no news out of France for a while, and any correspondence was from Jannike or another household agent.”

“That is strange, and I had been wondering about the same thing for a while. I have heard that two couples from Mexico City flew to France to see her a couple of years back, but they were denied.”

“That sounds damn strange—something I never mentioned to you from the early 2000s. Yes, we promised to hold no secrets from one another, but at the time, this was not of much note. Patricia asked me the strangest question about our time in Doha. ‘Did you learn anything about, anything, of the Authentic?”

“And you said?”

“Nothing, JD interrupted us.”

“As I have been getting more and more memory back, I have had a niggling feeling about her. I do not know why or about what. There has just been some discomfort.”

“Okay, the facts are, she dismissed the missing pages in your dossier. She lied to us about not having left Paris for 300 or more years, according to LaJade. It was more like 100 or so.

When you asked her about regaining your memory, she said nothing was to be done.”

Akshamsaddin said we were right to ask LaJade and that her authority was greater than we knew. So, we decided that LaJade would know the Authentic's secrets.

“What do we do?”

“Get Patricia back here.”

“They have fallen off our friend's list, I guess, since you failed to answer her question.”

“What if it was timed? She would ask me about the Authentic, and JD would be there to hear my reply, which I did not give.”

 

The Scotts agreed to a visit on Tiradentes' Day, which is celebrated annually in Brazil on April 21. The holiday commemorates the execution of Brazilian national hero Joaquim Jose da Silva Xavier in 1792.

After the greeting, pleasantries, and niceties, Jonathan walked onto the patio with four large Caipirinha. A cocktail of fresh lime juice, sugar and cachaça. A distilled spirit made from fermented sugarcane juice.

“JD and Patricia, it is just that Evelyn and I have been wondering about something for a long while, and I will cut to the bone on this.

What is up with the Authentic? What is her game?”

The Scotts both slightly recoiled in shock, and after a few minutes of give-and-take verbal sparring, Patricia said one word, “WAR?”

“What war? Whose is at war?” Jonathan said, equally as shocked.”

“The Devi, we are undergoing a civil war. It is a power struggle, and in many cases, it has turned to blood.”

Evelyn and JD remained silent as Jonathan and Patricia discussed the points of this new conflict.

“War? What war?”

“Power and the future. The Authentic would like to keep the status quo, and others, like LaJade’s people and everyone in Doha, or basically from Cairo to New Delhi and maybe beyond, want a more progressive future.”

“Progressive, how?”

“The Progressives want us to become more active in politics and various movements. Like environmentalism, because long after the current crop of Standards is dead, so are their children and their children’s children. Most of us, Devi, will still be walking around and cleaning up the mess.”

‘When did this start? How long has this been going on?”

“Maybe, more than a century, or one hundred and fifty years. No one has a clear date, but some think you had a hand in it.”

“A hand in it? Hell, I am just hearing about it now. How could I have done anything?”

“The trip you and Orland Marcano took in 1853, I believe, to see a Sultan and to broker a stronger British – French – Ottoman alliance. The die was cast then, according to some. We should and could influence events with more effect.

“What? That effort failed. Wars broke out across the Balkans, then the Crimean War… It was an abject failure.”

“Yes, it was. In the eyes of the Authentic, it was a clear demonstration that we do not have enough power or any power to direct the events in the world of the standards. And that is how she wants to keep it.”

“How was I not aware of this? Evelyn, did you know about this?

“No, John, no.”

“Both sides wanted to keep you out of it. The Progressives because we don’t know what you will do. And her forces or side, well, their actions are more sinister.

You said years ago that she claimed she knew nothing about restoring your memory. Well, we think that she fears something in your head. If she fears it, perhaps we should as well. It is war, and who knows what can happen.”

 

As if a child in school, Evelyn raised her hand to speak. “In the late 60s, as the Authentic was leaving our farm outside of Montreal, she said something to me that was more than a little unusual. “Someday, we may need to kill for feeding. It is against everything we stand for, but I fear for the world and humanity. The more Standards and the fewer of us, the more we can hide in the numbers if it comes to transgressing our Cardinal rule, so be it.”

JD replied, “There is a flaw there. If there are more standards, and we can hide more easily, why would we have to kill?”

Patricia shrugged, “That is an easy one. The more Standards there are, the easier it would be to hide. But the more Standards there are, the greater the world’s problems, and that would mean Devi getting involved, and She is against that. So, I think she did not mean killing and feeding on Standards, but our own.”

“Oh, my god,”

“Yeah, what she said.”

“I have a question for you two: What side of this conflict are you on? Progressive or status quo?

Jonathan and Evelyn exchanged glances. Progressive, we need to change and adapt on a macro scale.” Evelyn nodded in agreement.

Are you sure?”

“Are you sure?”

Both said, “Yes.”

This time, JD and Patricia looked at each other and nodded, then put handguns on the table. “We won’t be needing these,” they said.

“Really?

“Yes.”

“The Progressives in America wanted us to watch you. We followed you from California and needed to be here once you went to Doha.

We did everything we could to mask your flight there. Global events at the time helped, so we arranged for you to have a private jet back here.”

As far as we know, the Authentic does not know that you did that. And we think that because she has not killed you.”

“What, you two have been following Eve and I?”

“No, protecting you two.”

Patricia finished off her Caipirinha and pointed at Evelyn. “You did a sort of census for the Authentic; it was vastly incomplete. There are Devi communities that have been off-grid and hidden for centuries. You likely missed one out of three.

You said there were about 50,000 Devi, more like 75,000 or even a hundred thousand. I think Paris was looking at a list of reliable people and maybe an enemies list”

They debated the pros and cons of that and finally decided to try to figure out why Jonathan was unique.

Jonathan, I haven’t asked you to divulge anything about your past and have allowed you to do so at your own pace. But what is your earliest memory now?”

“Rome, I do not know the year, and the images are strange. I look like a beggar in some flashes and a king in others, horses, thrones, blood. Always blood.

I see flames, and it could be a sacking of Rome.”

Visigoths, Vandals, Normans or Arabs.”

The Visigoths would move you back to about 400, making you one of the oldest Devi I have met. And Paula, what about your oldest known Devi?”

“About 1500 or so. I know someone who knew Clovis, the founder of the Merovingian dynasty. And aren’t the Authentic and her former assistant Isabel Martel from that time?”


“I am the new kid on the block here, but why is she called the Authentic?” I know about the structure of the Colette thing, and the Authentic in that sense means that she is the boss. That is a little lame and contrived for today and nonsense for the Middle Ages.

What if she is not authentic and more of a fraud or fake?” 

The room was silent momentarily, followed by some quiet mumbling and consensus.

JD reached into the bag he had brought in and pulled out a small computer tablet. “John, I was listing your lives, not out of any surreptitious or malevolent reason, but just out of interest. You have a solid line from the mid-elevens to the mid-14s, but a blank of 300 years until Lisbon in the mid-17s.”

“My dark years. After Lisbon, I needed to get away, not just from the lifestyle but from people. I travelled across North Africa. I had a letter of passage and a ring from a Sultan, so that was an easy period. I was in Mali at the start of its decline when Mansa Mahmud Keita II opened diplomatic relations with Portugal. They sent two envoys, d'Évora and Enes in 1487. I was an official for Keita II.

I went back to Lisbon with them and met two brothers. Gaspar and Miguel Corte Real. They had set out on an expedition to map the coast of the New World. Later, Miguel returned to Portugal with two of their three ships, and Gaspar continued southward and was never heard from again. I was on that ship.

With no accurate maps or even an idea of where we were, we hit a hurricane off the coast of what is likely now the Carolinas. Four of us made it to shore. The Iroquoian natives thought us interesting, and we rapidly learned their language.

They were cultured and had fair-sized settlements, realistic laws, and fair and balanced societal rules. What amazed my treasure-seeking companions was that these noble people had the wherewithal not to have the idea of personal possessions—no ownership.

Trading my limited wisdom on various things, I travelled inland. I was likely the first European to cross the Appalachian Mountains and the first to see the Mississippi River.

I was aware back then of the dangers of fathering children, but for the first ten years in the region of today's states of Illinois and Missouri, there was nothing but peace and joy. I fathered two children, a boy and a girl.

The Scotts looked at Evelyn. She nodded in agreement, saying that she had known about this.  

“Then I worked my way east to Quebec City and claimed I was a survivor of a lost colony. I returned to France and used the Quebec contacts to establish a furrier company. I had bags of gold and livres stashed around, so in the late 16s, I was a banker, currency broker, and lender in Rome, and then, as you know, I went to Lisbon.    

And that should sum up the last 900 years of my life.

“That is my man, Jonathan. A busy guy was a full paSt.”

“JD agreed, but what in the past would have the Authentic screw you over like that and for so long?”

Neither John nor Evie had an answer for that. JD reached over and prodded Patricia, “Now may be the best time, but Johnny has no idea.

You two folks may want a drink or bring in the bottle.”


She sat there quietly, trying to find the proper starting point. For a few minutes, the room was dead silent.

“John, you have little or no recovered memories before perhaps being a Cather in the mid-11s and a few flashes of Rome. Could it be any kingdom? Could it have been Aachen and not Rome?

“Yeah, I could see that.”

“What if you were a few hundred years old then? Could that be?”

“Yeah, the past is an open book, waiting to be coloured.”

“In full disclosure, JD lied about keeping your past lives as a note of personal interest. The powers behind the progressive movement wanted to learn more about you, and they did.”

“What the hell? What? Forget about the why. Just tell me and nudge my brain.”

“You were there on 25 December 800, when old Pope Leo III crowned Charlemagne as Holy Roman Emperor.

Charlemagne’s father was Pepin the Short, and his father was Charles Martel. Charles was the father of the Authentic’s former and late Aide-de-camp, Isabel Martel.

Charles' father was Philip of Herstal, and he had a mistress Alpaida. Not Alpaida, whom we know as the Authentic, Philip’s Alpaida was 100 years later. They were all the same family.

The Authentic, as Alpaida, said her father was Pepin of Landen. Pepin’s wife was Itta of Metz, and she was later sainted. She was born in Landen.

Her piety was for a transgression she had made earlier in life. She had married late in life, at age 22, late for a royal wedding of the time. Her and Pepin’s first child, Saint Begga, was born in 615. Itta was 23. Unknown to Pepin, Itta had a child at 17, Alpaida, the woman we know as the Authentic, and as the saying goes… “You are the father!”

“What? How is that possible? How could that have happened? How could I not recall that?”

“Perhaps you were drunk or boisterous, but through our agencies at those DNA lineage places, we matched her DNA and yours, and she carries your genome in her DNA.”

Barely able to speak, Evelyn croaked out, “I cannot believe this. It is outrageous madness. I think John would by now have remembered something as both significant and twisted as this.”

“So, what is the issue we, or I, have with this woman you call my darling daughter?”

“She by now knows of your trip to Doha and that you are remembering things and that you, as her father to some degree and by the rules of our people, have authority over her. After 1200 or 1300 years of being essentially the Queen of all European Devi and, to a degree, globally all Devi, she likes her status and her position. You threaten that. As long as you were not remembering, you were harmless.”

The evening descended into more drinking and both idle and detailed speculation. One important suggestion was that Jonathan should go deep off-grid.

 

They began contacting some of the Devi he knew and trusted from his past adventures, and many, not quite half, had met with various unfortunate circumstances. That may have been because when Johnathan had been with these people over the last 200 years, they had all seemed to be best with their hopes of living forever, with a progressive mindset, and looking for new things in the Devi experience.

They had the money to run. The Authentic had always demanded a fee or tithe from all Devi to support all the Devi efforts like relocation. Jonathan had always kept a second set of books for himself. He was a self-made millionaire many times over in many lands.

Since the Napoleonic Wars, he had been stashing away wealth in lands and coins. Then, from time to time, as a new life began, he would invest it for twenty or thirty years in some local venture.

He had a successful and profitable gold and currency exchange when he met Evelyn on Waterloo Bridge. He had also invested in steamships and railways through a perpetual trust, and that income more than doubled the gold business.

While securing and building Devi's holdings in Los Angeles, he often held the mortgages on those buildings. In the same way, Patricia Scott had made millions in the sports betting business, but there was no paper trail or accurate accounting figures sent to Paris.

The Authentic likely knew there was skimming and graft, but everything was fine as long as it was not blatant, and she got her share.


 

36 RECOVERY

 Christmas, or Dia De Festas, was more festive than in the past few years. Jonathan and Evelyn spent Christmas Eve with thousands of other locals on the beach. Most were dressed in the traditional colour of red, and music, giant bonfires, and celebrations ruled the day into the late evening.

Christmases were usually more sedate; many said they were just there to have peace and nurse their hangovers. In the Devi world, any Christmas event is typically a time to discuss Christmas, Hanukkah, or past festive seasons.

There was heightened interest among the Devi in Recife, as they hoped Jonathan could and would honour them with new stories and adventures from his past.

Julia was there, now identifying herself with her pen name, Maria de Silva, along with JD and Patricia Scott, who had moved down from Los Angeles. About a dozen more Devi were also there. 

He told them about visiting LaJade and following her advice to visit Qatar. He also recounted the meeting at the Diplomat’s Club and how he saved Muhammad Shams al-Din bin Hamzah's life. Then, in brief terms, Evelyn explained the procedure in the clinic, limiting it to the re-exchange of blood.

“After or, more correctly, before. Another after-memory recall here is another earlier event. Before arriving in Sicily, I can recall being in the Basque, and I was in Scotland, living in the Orkney Islands off the northern tip of Scotland.

I was in the service, or a warrior captain for Henry Sinclair, who was later called "admiral of the seas.". At that time, it was said that he had sailed with twelve ships under his command into the Great Western Sea, and was thought to have visited Iceland, Greenland, Newfoundland and Massachusetts. But I was not with him. I was sent a notice to return home to Norway.”

JD said, So, chronologically, you were in Norway in 1340, Then you travelled to the Orkneys. You sailed for Sinclair but missed his supposed discovery of North America a hundred years before Columbus because you were in Norway again. Then lived in the Basque region, Sicily, and then were with Mehmed?”

“Yes, it sounds confusing, but yes. And if it is confusing to you when I speak it, imagine the confusion in my head with sound and pictures.”

Patricia looked surprised. “Perhaps I knew you. I was in Norway then, a seamstress for Jarls and noblemen.”

“Perhaps I did, milady, and if so, I thank you again. A fine garment it was.”

Patricia laughed, miming sewing with her hands.”


“Back to my story. There was much interplay, inter-marrying and warfare between the kingdoms of the British Isles, North Europe and Scandinavia.

I was a tin trader from Wales, and it was in Wales that I saw the advantages of learning the sea trade. That would have been in the 1260s; it was an ongoing thing. Tin for furs was my business. I cast my lot in early with the King of Wales, although there was much conflict with England. Wales was nominally independent, and the taxes were lower in many ways.

This was all good as King Henry III accepted Llywelyn ap Gruffudd as a de facto ruler of Wales and granted him the title of Prince of Wales. It was strictly a ceremonial title, not a successor title, as with Prince Charles today.

He died. Dafydd ap Gruffydd succeeded to the throne of Gwynedd as Prince of Wales. He was a malcontent, and that angered the English. I think Edward I invaded in 1283 and charged Dafydd with high treason. As the royal furrier, I had a price on my head, so I took my last load of tin to King Havald, along with about two man-weights of gold to buy, protect and keep my boat.”

“John, I am glad we finally found out where you got your love of the sea. We lived in London and Philadelphia; they were a bit inland, but both ports. Christchurch, Lisbon, Los Angeles, and Recife are all seaside towns. Only Albury was inland, and that was just for a few years.

I cannot wait to hear more stories about all this as you see things clearer. The doctors said he would recall the big stories first; you will get the details. He said it was like drawing a picture and colouring in the spaces later.”

“Colouring book? I am not that docile yet. I may be many times the age of being infirm, but I can still dance the night away.”

“Tea, biscuits, wine? Christmas cake. Does anyone want anything? Anyone hungry?

“Sure, I will help you. If you put out any food, all these people will dive in.”

 

While Eve and Patricia were in the kitchen, everyone else was mingling and talking about John's words. Some asked him a few questions, and some, like Patricia, thought they and John may have crossed paths.

“Did you and John hear anything else about the Devi or where we are heading in the future as a people? Did you learn anything about anything or the Authentic?”

Eve flinched for a moment. “No, nothing.”

“Are you sure? I felt something there, sister.”

Evelyn looked at Patricia, who was staring back with cold, accusatory eyes. “I think you did, and whatever it is bothering you.”

The exchange ended when JD entered the kitchen and asked where the next bottle of white wine was hiding. 

After their guests departed, “I don’t know, John; she seemed like she knew the Arabs told us something was not on the square with the Authentic, and given that according to what LaJade said, she was lying to us. Something does not add up.”

“I think you are right, my dear; I think you are right.”

Most of the attendees from the Christmas party showed up again at New Year's, as they said, “to find out what was old with Jonathan.”

  In 1250, I was a weapon smith for the Kingdom of Aragon when King James began expanding to the South by conquering and incorporating Majorca, Ibiza, and a good share of the Kingdom of Valencia into the Crown.

The wars ended with the Capetians being recognized as heirs of the Carolingian dynasty, and the Capetian king Louis IX renounced any historical claim over Catalonia.

There were small wars, and some regions changed hands. The Kingdom of Majorca, including the Balearic Islands, the counties of Cerdanya and Roussillon-Vallespir , and the city of Montpellier, were all independent, conquered, and free again.

Some saw me as a liability, and I fell out of favour with the King, so I travelled north to Wales. That journey, made on foot, may have been why I embraced ships during my Welsh time. 

Before ending up in Aragon, I was an armourer for Louis VIII and Louis IX. More wars with the Kingdom of France, the County of Anjou, the early Plantagenets and all the minor local rulers. That would have been back to at least the early 1220s.”

Patricia interrupted John to ask a question. “You were an armourer and a swordsmith. How did you get those skills?”

“I am still not sure. But in New Zealand around 1900, I had a gold assaying office, and when I met Eve in 1837, I had a gold and silver exchange, so I guess I always was a bit of a metalhead.”

“No, more of goth,” JD added.

“I would say a Visigoth,” said Eve, winking at John. 

“It took me almost ten years to get to Anjou and France from what I was before… Terra Marianna, or the Land of Mary.”

Everyone had a quizzical look on their face and asked. “Where?”

“Livonia, modern Lithuania, and the Baltic Staes region.  It was a Holy Roman principality state. It was created in 1207, and then in 1215, Pope Innocent III claimed it as his and made it part of the Holy See.

So, for those without a scorecard, I was in Livonia for eight years, ten years of which were spent crossing the various German states. With my Livonian credentials, I was a travelling Monk and was occasionally asked to be a priest by the locals.

I landed in Anjou in 1222, for 20 years or thereabout, then 30 years later in Aragon. 1275 in Wales and then Norway for 30 to celebrate 1300, Orkneys for about the same length of time. The Basque region, 8 or 10 years after that, was Sicily, and then it was with the Ottomans in Constantinople.  

 

So, I am at least 800 years old, 840 if you account for my apparent age.

And how I ended up as a monk in Livonia was likely because of my, somewhat, if I can remember it correctly, or more correctly soon, I was somehow associated with the Cather movement in Languedoc. Now rightly or wrongly called a heresy, in the 1160 period.”

“Why don’t you all come back around St Valentine’s Day? Maybe I can claw back another few hundred years and surprise everyone with “I am Spartacus.”

They continually entertained people, Devi and Standards alike. They hosted or attended dinner parties at least three times a week. After only eight years, they had become the “need-to-add” to any function's guest list.

Eve commented on how things had changed from avoiding social connections to diving in head first.

They had quiet days to reminisce, talk and love. 

“John, do you have any inkling of a start date or vision of strange and wonderful things?”

“Yes, and strangely, the only wonderful thing that happened to me was meeting you in the spring of 1837. That is why I have that pencil sketch of Waterloo Bridge in my study,”

“I thought as much, and when I am not thinking of a bridge, I also think of you. I meant to say, do you have any thought flashes of Roman galleys, Socrates, Aristotle, or the pyramids?”

“No, nothing grandiose, other than a basket of loaves and fishes.”

“WHAT!”

“Joking.”

Friday, March 14, 2025

35 DOHA

 They awoke Tuesday morning, packed, and getting into one of LaJade’s cars when they were told that New York was under attack and that no flights were allowed into, out of, or across North America. 

Like everyone else, they were stunned as the horror unfolded. But unlike everyone else, they could sense and feel the emotional fear and dread of more than three hundred million Americans.

Eve reached out and squeezed John’s hand.

Three days later, they noticed a few more police standing around Queen Beatrix International Airport. At Norman Manley Airport in Kingston, the police were in body armour with assault rifles.

But JFK in New York was like an armed camp in a war zone: New York police, Port Authority officers, Military Police, National Guard, out-of-state police, and called-up regular forces, with Humvees and armoured personnel carriers visible on the tarmac. 

There were delays in leaving their plane, and it took over an hour to claim baggage. Moving from one terminal to another required two or three identification checks.

And before boarding their flight to Qatar, they were questioned almost half a dozen times as to why they were flying to the Gulf. Once the plane departed, it was without an empty seat. Arab nationals fearing a cultural backlash in the city and the States were leaving,

Both flying into New York and out of the city, they could see the smoke from what was called ‘the pile.’

The pilot of the Qatar Airways flight warned the passengers that he was going to bank the plane to one side and then the other, as waggling wings were a visual signal used to acknowledge another aircraft or ground control. In this case, the loss of life.


The flight took just under thirteen hours. The entire trip, starting in Aruba, took 27 hours, and they made every effort to enjoy the fully reclining seats in the Executive Class portion of the plane.

The airport in Doha was also heavily protected. Guards were also outside their hotel. 

The room had a fruit basket, which they took as a complimentary item from the hotel. Later, they noticed a card in the basket.

The note said, “Monday, 1:30 IAC, Diplomatic Club, we will find you.” 

Although the Diplomat Club had only been in Doha for eighteen years, its style and luxury spoke of an older, more elegant time with all the modern amenities.

“Jonathan and Evelyn St Croix, I believe you have a notice of who we are to meet here.”

“One moment, Sir," the concierge said as he checked his notes.

He looked up at Jonathan with a surprised look and quickly summoned on of the other employees.

The concierge stepped out from behind his desk and said he would personally take them to their appointment.

They were led into the sumptuous Members Lounge, overlooking the club’s pool deck. At the far end of the room from where they entered sat three men, two of whom were in western business suits and one wearing the traditional Arab thobe, with a white Shemagh,

Evelyn walked halfway down the room and stopped with the Diplomatic Club’s concierge. Jonathan walked toward the man in Arab garb and stood a short way behind him.

The man stood up and was over six feet tall. He turned and said, “Alsalam ealaykum warahmat allah wabarakatuh. Peace and blessing be upon you, Nontha Saqat, Jonathan St Croix.” 

Jonathan stood motionless, trying to place the man, the face and the voice. Suddenly, he fell to his knees before the man. “Akshamsaddin, 'ustadhi waqayidi,” 

“I am no longer your teacher and leader.”

Please invite your wife to join us.”

The two men in the suit left the table. 

He introduced his wife to Akshamsaddin. “If I remember correctly, Muhammad Shams al-Din bin Hamzah.

“You still speak with an ancient inflection. I was told that you had questions for me, or at least questions that I may help you find answers to, or where to look.”

“Teacher, I only seek to know where I am from. I remember nothing before the great victory of Mehmed II against the Byzantine.”

 “I expected that, and I am surprised that it took you so long to find me and to ask.”

“Mu'allim, you can help my husband find his past?”

“Yes, "Rabbaitul bait, I can, and I commend your mastery of my language. Please, Jonathan, as we are very old friends, very old, please call me Akshamsaddin, and I extend that courtesy to your wife.

“What can you tell me?” 


“I was a long-time advisor to Mehmed. When he ascended the throne for the second time two years earlier, I was appointed as his closest official advisor. When he decided to liberate the so-called Western Rome, I suggested, that you be a naval commander, because of your knowledge of ships and more so your knowledge of Christian tactics.

In the Christian years of 1449, I will use Christian dates to more easily frame your story. You brought to the Sultan a woman who was the daughter of King Peter II of Sicily to be his second wife Gülşah Hatun. She was also the daughter of Eleanor of Anjou.

As you were not under any flag, Mehmed, ask for your services. To which you agreed.


There were stories of great, long-lived men. I had come across references to them in my study of religious sciences, medicine and, pharmacology. Everywhere was the word Devi. What I could ascertain from my research seemed to apply to you.

As for research, Evelyn St Croix, did you know that I first wrote that ‘Diseases infect and spread from one person to another, through what I called seeds so small they cannot be seen but are alive.? More than two hundred years before the Dutchman Leeuwenhoek.

But I digress.

I confronted you with my assertion that you were Devi, and as we established trust, you shared your secret and the ways of your people.

Shortly before the battle, I was mortally wounded in an ambush by the Venetians. You saved me; You granted me your blood and your life. You offered me too much of your life and may have entered Paradise briefly.

You had told me that you would need the blood of others to replenish you. We had not yet killed the interlopers, and they did die in the service of the Sultan and for you.

For a week, you lay in bed, your body as cold as a corpse, but you still filled your lungs with air. Within three weeks, shortly before the battle, you could stand on your ship. You created the oiled road we used to bypass the Chain of the Horn.

You could recall that you were Devi, but you were not fully aware of what it was, so I taught you what you knew.   

“Thank you, but that only moves my memory back less than a dozen years. What was I before?

“I do not know, yet I do know.”

“What does that mean?”

“To use modern parlance and explicit, direct words. When you fed me and turned me, I received not only your blood but part of your soul and your memory.

It is known that this usually happens in lesser form with simple turning. But when you turned me, you gave so much of yourself, that it was as if your body and mind panicked and entered my body for safe keeping.”

 

Evelyn said, “Jonathan turned me, so would I have part of his soul and mind within me?”

“No, if he turned you without excessive damage to himself, the answer would be no. It only occurs if the giving Devi moves too close to death.

And Evelyn, I thank you for being here. We now share a great bond, for you and I are brother and sister, and I greet you.”

That statement shocked Jonathan, as he never considered Eve his daughter. Nor himself, her father.

“Is there a way to learn more about myself?”

“Yes, and it is both simple and not simple. You must feed on me and bring me close to death, but not as close as you travelled.”

“Is that the only way?”

“Yes, and I know what your next question is, and I will agree to it. You granted me a great gift, and if this is the only way to repay you, I accept the risk.”

“How do you know all of this? I asked the Authentic in Paris, and she said nothing was to be done.”

“That is a straightforward question to answer; the Authentic is not as she seems, and you did the correct thing in asking LaJade, as many more families and groups question Her authority than you know of. And I confidently say that to you, my sister, and here before our father.

In Oman, a clear and clean twenty-first-century medical clinic was found in the cellars below an ancient mosque, possibly below the level of the Gulf waters.

White tiles, lab coats, rows of fluorescent lights, and hallways with dozens of doors.

These were caves, some flooded and some not. They were brothels, storehouses, armouries, refuges, and homes. They are the world's finest and perhaps the first Devi medical centre. Here, I will give you back your memories.

I do not know what they contain, but when I am tired or overly stressed, I see flashes of things not part of my life.”

 

Despite the clinic's 21st-century design and futuristic look, when Jonathan's revival process was about to begin, Evelyn thought things were taking on a very “Frankensteinish” air.

Jonathan was strapped to a table, two straps across each of his arms and legs, a large one across his chest. The doctors had shaved six areas of his head for electrodes, and the needles of four tubes were poking into his body. His head was restrained, and he had a large rubber mouthpiece.

Before they did this to him, he was placed into a chemically induced coma, which lessened his brain activity and allowed the medical team to monitor activity in the hippocampus better. The hippocampus is the primary brain structure for forming and retrieving memories, like episodic memories from specific life events. 

She thought it was eerily fitting, as he had known Mary Shelly, and she half expected a flash of lightning and peals of thunder.

Akshamsaddin was lying on a table next to him and reciting passages from the Koran to stay cognizant and awake. He had three needles in him: two to withdraw blood and the third to administer a mild sedative.

Jonathan’s body convulsed, his back arched, and his legs and arms quivering and shaking, and within ten seconds, the room was silent.

“Completed,” said the doctor in charge. “Now we wait. It may take only ten hours or a few days, but his mind and, to an extent, even his body must adapt.

This works because his memories will return over the next period once he is awake. How long it takes is unknown, but like an onion, each layer will be peeled before going further back. The first recovery is for him to wake up; the second recovery is being able to access his memories.  How long the process will take depends on how old he is.”

 

Evelyn tried to sleep in a bed beside his room, but she kept looking at him, worrying, wondering, and wanting.

The first ten hours passed, then fifteen, twenty-four, thirty-six, and forty-eight. At this point, the medical team intervened to check on his vital signs and overall health. Everything seemed to be within the expected parameters.

Two more days, while Evelyn was out of the room, he awoke with a loud, hoarse, muffled scream. His temperature spiked, he broke out in a cold sweat, and he voided himself.

The medical team ran to the room and blocked Evelyn from entering, assuring her this was normal.

When he woke up, she held his hand beside his bed. She first said, “I love you,” as she kissed his forehead, and he replied in a fractured voice, “Forever.”

They were sitting in the shade of an elevated terrace, overlooking the skyline or lack thereof. With its oil wealth, Oman decided that rather than build Western skyscrapers, it would use its money to preserve the past.

“I remember Sicily and Peter II. I was a sailor, flying a freelance ship under no flag as a neutral, allowed into most Christian and Muslim ports.  I think I was based or living in Naples, as Sicily and Naples were united as one kingdom then.

My ship was a carraca, or carrack. Its name was… was the Luna Rossa, or Red Moon. Strange fact, and unrelated to anything, red for the blood of Christ, and the moon for Islam?”

“Jonathan, it is working; you are remembering. A lifetime of new stories. Many lifetimes of new stories.”

“I need to sleep, my love.”

 

A week later, Akshamsaddin arranged for a private jet to return them to Brazil to avoid problems and delays at the airports. But he had one condition: he asked them never to tell the Authentic Colette of the procedure, as he saw her as too much of a traditionalist to embrace this type of Devi medicine.

“I recall the Atlantic and crossing it.”

“Yes, Dear, we crossed it dozens of times, and you did as well from Lisbon with Orlan in the Caribbean. “No, I mean from the before times. I mean in my new memories.”

“Before Columbus? Were you a Viking?”

“I briefly was a Basque fisherman. We had the knowledge and skills to know the North Atlantic, but there is something more. I recall the town of Donostia-San-Sebastian. I lived there and vaguely knew that from when I fled Paris in 1940, I instinctively seemed to run to that town.

It hurts my head to think of it. The memories are like the dreams you had the night before, and when you wake up, they begin to fade, and the more you want to remember, the more they recede. But now, it feels a hundred times as vacant.”

She rested her head on his shoulder as they flew west into the setting sun.

 

34 - LA JADE

Jonathan immediately contacted the Authentic in St Germain, who helped expedite Julia’s new journey. After a brief stop in France for a debriefing and a quick lesson on what Devi had done and changed in the more than half a century that she had been isolated, she flew to Recife.

Julia appeared tired and drawn, which was not unexpected, but she displayed vigour in her actions.

After reacquainting herself with Eve and Jonathan for a period, she settled into a quiet, almost reclusive lifestyle.

“Evelyn, I thought a lot about you and some others daily. It kept me going emotionally. Physically, I had no issue; the torture, the abuse, the hardships and the evil and fear sustained my body. I have seen and felt enough death and pain near me that I could live for 5,000 years.”

Evelyn was aware of the horrors of the war period and wanted to change her friend's course of discussion.

A Siberian village for forty years. How did you pull that off?”

“We visited three villages over the years, and each accepted us fully and openly. Living in the middle of the vast Taiga and being 500 miles from the nearest trace of anything of note. The guards were not overly weaponized, enthusiastic or brilliant. We overpowered two of them, seized their guns, and killed a few more. There was myself, three other women and two men in our social rebellion. Six of us Devi, ended up in a single camp; three were stopping there and part of a larger group transiting to another camp. So we seized the opportunity.

I will say that the forbidden emotional wave we feel when killing someone is still felt at 40 yards, even with an assault rifle.   

We were known as the fair-skinned witches, as the locals were a mix of Central Asians, Siberian Tartars, and Khakas. Red hair, freckles and alabaster skin were all pretty damn unique.

We had grown accustomed to one another's thoughts, and beyond that, the silence was inspiring.

Only two of the others and I got through the time. Irakli Abramov, a Hungarian Jew, who was a communist but anti-Stalinist, and Bogumiła Piotrowska, a Polish resistance fighter who fought both the Germans and the Russians in the name of saving Poland.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“Given the open concept and general quiet acceptance of the rights of people like me. I am going to write books. I have three in mind. My stories are going to be fictional accounts of living in Siberia. The second will be my “mother's” account of being a lesbian in a Russian gulag, and the third will be my “grandmother’s” account of the ‘power of the black triangle. That is my goal and my gift to the world.”

The new millennium brought Jonathan into a bit of a funk. He was becoming more concerned that he could not remember anything before 1453. Most pure-born Devi could recall every aspect of their lives. Those who were ‘turned’ could remember their pre-Devi lives. But not him. More troubling was the fact that some of the first few pages were missing in the dossier on him in the Devi archives. 

He was just an aimless five-hundred-fifty-year-old man, not knowing where he had been or where he was going.   

“Darling, an immortal with melancholy, is, in all likelihood, a bad thing. With a Standard, they may get down in the dumps for a day or two. What will you do, mope about the house for the next fifty or sixty years? If so, I want a divorce.”

It is not that I am down; I am just wondering why I cannot remember things past a point.”

“Is there a Devi psychoanalyst? A 1200-year-old Sigmund Freud?”

“Seriously, Evie, I have to find out about this, and I can’t turn anywhere.”

You could go back to the Authentic’s library and look for details. I could help.”

“No, that is a dead end. I mentioned it to her years ago; she looked a little shocked and said that it happens from time to time: papers get lost. That was one of the reasons she started having things copied in 1940. And that was by hand. Now, it is all scanned and stored on computer drives. Furthermore, I am sure if there was a psychologist, they would be briefed on what to say and what not to say.”

“Then take a step on the wild side and look in forbidden places.

“What are you talking about?”

“LaJade, she is your friend, and if the Authentic has secrets, who better to spill the tea with than?”

From Recife, it was almost a six-hour flight to Caracas, Venezuela, and then a short flight to Aruba.

The Authentic had been more open to some Devi visiting the island and even to whatever island she was on at a given time. 

She had her braids wrapped in a bright yellow printed head scarf and wore a matching low-cut long flowing dress.

She looked pleased to see them. “What is it, my darling Johnny, that I can do for you? I am but a simple girl leading a long, simple life.”

“LaJade, nothing about you is simple, and I have an issue that I think you, in your wisdom, can help me with, and we are here at Evie’s suggestion.”

“Evie? You called her Evie. What is the straight and formal Jonathan St Croix, the by-the-book fellow who always followed all the rules unless he thought he could do it better?”

LaJade raised her hand, and almost magically, the staff carried out a long table and proceeded to laden it with food.

“I think I can talk better with Arroz Moro, Calco Stoba, and Pan Bati, or for you, Evie, that would be rice and beans, conch stew, and beaten bread. And as I knew you were coming, there is a special occasion fruit cake, Bolo Preto.

What problem do you have that you seek the comforting wisdom of the dark Island Queen?”

John reached out to take Evie’s hand and looked at her. Turning to LaJade, he spoke his issue in as few words as he could.

“All Devi have exceptional memories, which is a gift for both the born and the turned; I cannot remember where I am from or when. I am adrift, and I need to know why.”

LaJade looked visibly shaken. One word the Devi rarely said was ‘Adrift.’ It usually meant becoming a non-Devi and aging rapidly or, in rare cases, ending one’s own life. But she understood how he used the word, having a fear of being a Devi.

“My Son, Jonathan, what do you mean exactly that you do not remember when? And back to when?”

“I recall being in a fabulous tent and talking with the early Ottoman Sultan Mehmed II. That was 548 years ago, and I have no memory of where I was before that date, what I did or even who I was.”

“The Authentic could help you with that quest, could she not? I hear she has a huge archive of Devi from the past. I am told it is an old Frankish and a Germanic trait.” 

“I looked at my dossier in the archives, and my file was incomplete; the first pages and records were gone. The story of Mehmed II was on the lower half of a page, and the top was torn off.” 

“That is strange. Did you ask Her?”

“She said, the accident happened, and she changed the subject,”

“I know of a rumoured case where a Devi was adrift in the same manner, maybe two cases. I will leave you two lovers to enjoy the still night air, and perhaps a walk on the beach will ease your mind.”

 

A hundred million stars shone down on them as they walked the shore. The waves were lapping, which was the only sound they could hear. They were alone, looking out over the sea under a canopy of stars.

Jonathan, if it were to end and we shared a final moment and a final dream or song, I would wish for this: you and me, an endless sea and the countless stars above us. I will love you forever.”

“I will love you forever, and I share that wish.”


After the perfect walk, a large bed, an open door to a large veranda, a slow circling fan on the ceiling, cool sheets, and a passionate night of love.

Breakfast was served on the veranda. They could almost reach out and touch the fronds on the palms. A vivid Venezuelan troupial landed on the railing at the table, looked at them, and called out with its distinctive “tweet-tweet-to.” Eve tossed a berry toward the bird. It looked at her, then at the berry, and then ate it. It called out again and flew off.

They mentioned it to the staff and laughed, saying it was just Luis looking for a free meal. The staff person also said they had a free day as LaJade would be unavailable. 

As Aruba is only 75 square miles, they decided to travel to the highest mountain on the island to take it all in at once.

When the name Jamanota is broken down to its Arawak language origins, JA or YA means spirit; MA means great or great spirit; NO is a suffix denoting a plural; and TA means source. So, the name means "Source of Great Spirits."

Evelyn became slightly disorientated on the hill and commented. “There is some serious magick here.”

Returning to LaJade’s compound, a line of four large sedans were pulling away as they arrived.

The staff member who had served them breakfast met them at the door and said, ‘LaJade has completed her daily tasks, and after dinner, she would be willing to discuss your matter.

They ate an early dinner in their room, consisting of mahi-mahi and conch soup, then shared a plate of Bolita di Keshi, deep-fried cheese balls.

 

“My Grace.”

“My Grace.”

“Jonathan, Jonathan, what am I going to do with you? Today was busy, and I mentioned a hypothetical story of being ‘adrift’ to my compatriots whom you saw leaving. They were here on another matter. I will say that the conversation did not go well. They were not forgiving, saying that anyone adrift should be expeditiously removed from the community, and they did not mean move them to Chad.”

“Was there any positive comment on my condition?”

“Yes, they confirmed the rumours. Although the stories are still unclear, there are several sources.

The cause in both these stories was a near-death giving. Feeding a Standard or another Devi with almost all your life force.”

“I don’t think I did that; I would remember that… no, I guess I would not.”

“Tell me what you do remember of that time.”

“I was a General with the Army of Mehmed II. the Exalted Mehmed. The siege of the city lasted fifty-five days. To bypass the obstacles at the Golden Horn, I suggested moving ships overland, leading us to victory as we destroyed and defeated the Genoese ships.” 

“Why was a pretty white boy like you commanding ships or even an officer in his holy Muslim army? How did he know you were not a Genoese or Italian spy?”

“I do not know; that is why I am here.”

“I want to play a game with you. Do you know the Arabic word' saqat?”

“Yes, it means “he fell.”

“Say the word saqat and then St Croix. How phonetically different is St Croix from: saqat?”

“They are nothing alike, totally unrelated, not the same. There is a hard ‘T’ and they end differently

“Put a slice of this papaya in your mouth and say your name.”

“What?”

“You came here for my help, so do as I ask.”

“Nontha Saqat”

“Yes, see, Nontha Saqat, and what does ‘Nontha’ mean.”

“We finish.” 

“Now your name, Jonathan St Croix, sounds in a strange way like Nontha Saqat’, or We finish He falls. Could that allude to someone sacrificing themselves to save a great cause or a great man and allow him to finish his appointed task? A Devi willing to sacrifice himself to the point of death, or being adrift and losing his former self and memory?” 

What, I saved someone just before the siege and was revived, and I am an Ottoman hero?”

“Yes, rumour has it. Suppose you did give too much of your life force, and in a moment of recovery, you heard someone say, ‘Nontha Saqat’. To your English, French, Italian or Spanish ear, it would sound like ‘Jonathan St Croix, would it not?”

“Yes, I guess it would. But how would I find out and be sure?”

“Qatar and the Arab Emirates. There are some long-time Devi there who could help you.”

“I beg your pardon, but about 40 or 45 years ago, I was asked by the Authentic to create a census of Devi worldwide, and there was a considerable dearth of Devi on the Arab side of the Persian Gulf.”

“Two things, my child, Evie: the first is the types of mysticism in the Arab Islamic culture and, the second, money. Take Sufism, the mystic path of Islam, very spiritual in unusual ways. Recently, the money in the gulf can just as easily hide secrets as the shifting sands of the Rub' al Khali or Empty Quarter.

That is all I can say. Go east, young man, and find your past

Goodnight.”

 

With that, LaJade effortlessly swept herself out of the room, leaving them alone.

“Qatar? I have never been there. Are you up for a challenge?”

“John, you created me for this sort of thing. We can fly out tomorrow morning. Here to Kingston, then to New York and then the land of Aladdin.”

33 ORIGINS

 The Devi tradition and their origin mythology often mentioned ancient Persia, the Zagros, and the ancient city of Anshan, one of the earliest capitals of the Kingdom of Elam, dating from the late 4th millennium BC.

Anshan is considered to be the origin of one of the world's oldest civilizations. The earliest evidence of Anshan can be found in the Sumerian King List, which includes many references to rulers.

The Sumerian Kings List is almost unique in all of archeology. For that reason, those Devi who wished to delve into mythologies and fantasies held the list as a canonical record of their origin.

This list contained the name Gilgamesh, the title character in the legend of ‘The Epic of Gilgamesh. ’ Of the one hundred and six Kings after Gilgamesh, 14 ruled for between 80 and 400 years, while Gilgamesh himself was said to have ruled for 126 years.

However, the issue that divided the Devi was the earlier and earliest Kings. The 27 previous Kings, from The First rulers of Uruk and the Dynasty of Kish, ruled for 100 to 1,500 years, the longest of which was Etana.

The First Kings on the List ruled for 18.600 years, and up to Alalngar, the second king, who ruled for 72,000 years. 

“I think it is absolute poppycock, Jonathan. How could you even begin to believe in any of that?”

“Let’s not get into that right now.”

“If not now, when?”

“Evelyn, we have guests coming to meet us, and Devi history is never a good topic for a dinner debate.”


At dinner, their guests were Baudouin Favreau and his companion Marjolaine Chabot.

Lovely to see you two. Jonathan and I were so glad you could attend dinner and the Bahamas. Marjolaine, you look radiant.”

“Thank you. I am still unsure about Devi protocol, but I became Devi on my thirty-first birthday. It seems a long time since we last met. Marjolaine Chabot

“ I was a service girl of fourteen.”

 

Bringing her stubborn streak to the fore, Evelyn took hold of both of Baudouin’s hands and asked, “In what way will the revolution in Iran affect your understanding of the Devi creation story?”

“Evelyn, I told you not to mention that.”

 “Jonathan is correct; it is a touchy subject. My opinion is, it does not matter. I have seen enough and lived long enough to only worry about the future. But just for you, this is what I think.

 Once upon a time, there was no Devi; I think that even before the idea of the List of Kings, a longevity gene arose at some crisis point in human development. It was an adept evolution variant or even a mistake. A genetic aberration.”

Thanks, Baud, I waited hand and foot on Devi so that you could make me an aberration?”

“No, like, blue eyes. It is thought to be a mutation that occurred between 6,000 and 10,000 years ago in a single individual in Europe. Or the colour Blue. Humans didn't have a clear concept of "blue" until relatively recently, with the Egyptians being the first known society to have a word for it. The ancient Chinese and Hebrews did not have a word for blue or blue in the ancient Hindu texts.

Jonathan raised two fingers. “I don’t think either lady at this table would call Paul Newman an aberration, at least not in a negative way, and I can’t think of any Devi I know with blue eyes.”

Marjolaine said, ‘My eyes were blue but are a brown-green mix. What is the English word for that?”

“Hazel.”

“Yes, my eyes are now Hazel. Jonathan, what do you think about our Devi roots?”

 

“If I must, I like the romance of the King’s Lists. It is a total wild card. Perhaps a long life was a gift in the Garden of Eden. The first eight Kings on the list are known as the Antediluvian rulers, the Sumerians, and others have them living in the mythical era before the great deluge. Methuselah’s life is in chapter five of the Bible.

In Genesis, chapter 6, Noah, his family, and all land animals are saved from a great flood. Hindu temples and sculptures depict Manu and his vessel as symbols of cosmic order and the preservation of life during times of upheaval. Everyone has a flood myth, and many cultures have super long-lived people before a flood.”

Evelyn gasped, “Back in Ireland, when Abigail and you were telling me stories about the Devi, I said, maybe you were related to Methuselah, and she replied: Perhaps we are, perhaps we are. That would explain a lot if one were to believe those stories.”

“While I was working in the Authentic’s household, Jannike always wore a Star of Ishtar, or the Star of Inanna. The Star of Inanna is a Mesopotamian symbol of the ancient Sumerian goddess Inanna. Under either name, Ishtar is a primary Mesopotamian goddess closely associated with love and war. As a goddess or even a god, she is the first known deity for which we have written evidence.

 Jonathan reached over to take hold of Marjolaine’s hand, “This woman is my champion. It could all be a coincidence, but the romantic in me would like to think our kind descended from the heavens rather than being a genetic aberration or freaks of nature. Because, when I am hitting on girls in the bars, it has more gravitas.”

“You start hitting on girls, and I will be hitting on you with a bar.”

Favreau restarted the conversation. The other big issue now is the Russians in Afghanistan, and how it affects us is the same as in Iran; the Soviets will likely be as friendly towards us as the Ayatollahs. We don’t know what the Soviets are all about. We have not had any Devi in Russia since 1917 and in Eastern Europe since ’45.”

“This is close to my heart as my dear, very late Father spent time in Kabul helping the crown with King Shah Shuja. He said that the Afghans were the nicest people and the kindest,”

“Well, with American arms, the group calling themselves the Mujahideen may be able to hinder the Russians and someday restore order to that mountainous land and bring peace,” Baudoin added.

The Mujahideen did, in a way, were the cause and the effect of liberating their land. The Russian empire was starting to crumble, and the war in Afghanistan was one of the final nails in its coffin. The Russians withdrew in 1989, and the Soviet Empire collapsed in 1991.

 

1991 was the year John and Evie left Los Angeles and moved to Recife, Brazil, a city John had a business in while he was in Lisbon in the mid-1500s.

The city had obviously changed in the last 500 years, but his feelings and the distinct smells of the air remained the same, or so he felt.

Evelyn had some difficulty with her Portuguese, as her dialect was almost a century and a half old.

They bought a residence, a condominium from another Devi, for a nominal price in the Boa Viagem area of the city.

On the R, Barao de Souza Leao is just over a tenth of a mile or 0.2 kilometres from the oceanfront and the beach.

Oh, my god, Johnny, what did we do?”

“What is the problem now?”

“I loved California, and there were hot, cool, dry and windy seasons. But here, it is hot, humid, hotter and then reset. There is no break.”

“Well, we are about 550 miles from the equator and back in the southern hemisphere.”

“In Christchurch, we could travel to see snow; here, the ice melts too quickly in my drinks.”

“Poor baby, the things you do for love.”

Jonathan once again took up his old profession as a printer, publishing an English and French tourist guide for the area. There were other publications, but his was done in very small batches, published twice a month, and dealt with up-to-date information. Furthermore, he was able to customize it for each area. If it were in a hotel or club in the northern part of the city, his advertising would only be for that area.

Thursdays were Eve's Pilates classes; she was in the changing room of the condo tower’s gymnasium when her cell phone rang.

Sra, St Croix, one of the Ile’s Paris, and then Royal Avenue East in London?”

“May I ask who this is?”

“I am Lechosław Pawlak, Commissionaire at the Romanian consulate here in Recife.”

“Yes, I may be the person you are looking for, what can I do?”

“Sra, if you could, could you please come to the consulate tomorrow at 10:30?”

“It is best that we discuss this in person.”

 

“I don’t know, Jonathan; I have no idea. But as he mentioned Paris and London, he must know something about us.”

“We will call the Colette in Rio and ask about other Devi in Recife.”

“She says there are no Devi by that name in Recife or area, but there are two in Rio. But she did say that there is are O.T.I.D contacts by that name in Romanian. And that one has been posted to South America. So, the call may be legit.” 

 

They arrived at the Consulate shortly after 10:00 and were taken to the reception room.

“Sra St Croix, greetings. If the two of you would please follow me.”

They sat beside each other as the official moved behind the desk.

“I invited you here as a refugee claimant back in our county’s capital, Bucharest, and she mentioned you. She has an interesting story, and the Ministry directed it to my desk here in Recife.

The story this woman told the Directorate was that in a round-up of undesirable civilians in Austria in 1940, a woman by the name of Thiess was arrested. This was on the grounds of asocial lesbian activity. She was sent to a Polish camp, given a black triangle to wear, and for more than four years, she struggled in a labour battalion.

At the time of the liberation of the camp, the Soviet army needed assistance in logistical support, and instead of fully liberating many of these individuals, pressed them into assisting the military in crushing Fascism. Many former camp inmates were more than glad to help fight their oppressors. Stalin, being as paranoid as he was, at the close of the war, shipped these poor souls far east to Siberian gulags.

The story goes that this woman and what she called ‘others like her’ escaped their new camp and established themselves in a remote village, marrying, having children, and living in a primitive but safer environment.

The village was so isolated that they were unaware of the collapse of the Moscow regime for two years.”

 

“Oh, Lord, a child of Julia is alive, and she listened to her mother on how to find us.”   

Find you? This woman 's story started early in the war. You would be 100 years old or more if she were referring to you.”

“Oh no, Sir, I meant us as a family reference.”

“Understood. Would you sponsor her immigration to Brazil with the proper clearances, applications, and paperwork, such as a visa?”

“Yes, oh my god, yes.”

Driving away from the Consulate, Eve was sitting silently until turning to look at Jonathan. “Oh, John, this could be Julia’s daughter or granddaughter.”

Jonathan pulled the car to the curb, walked out and opened Eve’s door. “Out, we need to talk.”

“What, John? Are you angry at me?”

“Eve, I believe that, given the trauma of the war, the camps and living in a Siberian peasant village would not be sustainable for a Devi child.”

“Are you saying this woman is lying and making everything up?”

“No, I am saying that the woman in Bucharest is likely Julia Theiss.”

Evelyn turned white and collapsed.

32 LOS ANGELES

 1969 started slow, but by summer, America was celebrating an actual moment for the ages. In July, Neil Armstrong set foot upon the Moon, but three weeks later, Los Angeles and America were rocked by two sets of murders.

 One was the murder of a pregnant movie star and four of her friends after they had just returned home from a restaurant. The next night, there was a similar murder of the owner of a grocery store chain and his wife.

The first murder was less than four miles east, the second was about the same distance to the west. One of the victims was a hair stylist, Jay Sebring, who owned a salon on North Fairfax that Jonathan often visited. It was only two miles to the south. He had met many interesting men at the salon: Steve McQueen, Dennis Hopper, Peter Lawford, Henry Fonda and a dozen or other what would be called A-List actors and musicians.  You did not need to be a Devi to feel the fear. It was almost visible.

“Evelyn, what do you think about that? The killings. Do you think there will be more?

“At least half a dozen people die in this city every day, John. It was just the brutality of the murders that have you spooked.”

“Yes, Eve, I am spooked. what if it was some rogue Devi?”

“No, the girls and I would have felt something. This was not an act of rogue Devi; it was just unusual Standard on Standard rage.”

“I hope your senses are right on this.”

The horror of that summer passed and faded. The 1970s looked to provide everyone with a prosperous future, and none more so than Devi.

Memorial Day weekend in 1970, John and Eve went out to meet some friends in nearby West Covina.

JD Scott was an investment banker; his wife, Patricia, ran a tax accounting office specializing in charity work. The second couple, Wayne and Virginia Stewart, were employed as script literary agents and tax specialists, respectively.

Patricia and Virginia’s business, Zodiac Accounting, was a money-making front for a very high-end and exclusive sports gambling book. 

“John, you are in real estate and looking to make money. Wayne and I have come across a new proposal. We reviewed some details based on the last trip Patricia and I took to Mexico City. Virginia is not as grooved on the idea, but hear me out.”

St Croix shrugged. “If we are talking real estate, this is now a business luncheon and deductible. Start ordering more booze. What have you got?”

“The Mexicans are sitting flush on oil money and looking to diversify. Acapulco is a success on the West Coast, and they are considering resorts on the East Coast of the Caribbean. There is a current development called Cancun. Hotels, restaurants, music venues, marinas, a vacationer’s paradise. Private villas, group villas and the whole infrastructure package. The development is looking at a broad range of economic factors and tourists. The low end would be three stars and a row of five stars.”

“That sounds ambitious and likely a long-term project.” Eve piped in.

Virginia nodded in agreement, “That is what I said, long-term and expensive.”

Wait until you hear the best notion that I suggested.”

JD continued, “Yeah, Wayne thought about how this can benefit the Devi. We invest in it and build a private gated community or apartment tower. And rent out only to Devi, the apartments we rent out, and the villas we buy. A Devi couple could, during their downtime, live without worry for 15 or 20 years.”

Eve, again playing Devil’s advocate, asks, “How? How could we live there and not worry?”

“That is magick of it. A Devi community of 15 or 20 villas. It's a private compound, like a gated community here. However, both the workforce and the residents are more transient. Five years at the most, and move on.

So, we stay there, and the Standards come and go. If we, as a community, not the Devi in the villas but globally, had the Authentic’s blessing, we would build hotels and resort areas. It would be a cash flow and a safe location.  

Eve again, ‘What about after John and I have been there 20 years or more? Where would we go?”

To another Devi tourist enclave in southern Spain, the French Rivera, the Australian Gold Coast, an alpine resort in the Alps, or Colorado.

Eve again, “Okay, in 20 words or less, give me the best pitch for this Cancun idea.”

“Think Vegas, but with beaches, not slot machines and crap tables. Oceans not desert, and hundreds of hot young bodies, tanned and in swimsuits, not mid-west old Bob and his puffy wife Holly-Ann in their coveralls work boots.

“That was over twenty words, but I think I am sold on it.”

Jonathan leaned back for a moment, looked down at the table, splayed the fingers on both hands and bounced his fingertips together a few times. “So, this is almost, if not fully, self-financing and will offer a long-term source of income for the Devi. It would also be a haven, and the idea is scalable globally.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“So, what do you want me to do? I don’t have millions to build a hotel, or at least not enough millions.”

Wayne answered almost immediately, “You and Evie have a pipeline to Paris. Both of you worked in relocation and, I don’t know, whatever it is called… procurement. Bounce the idea of the big boss lady.”

Patricia said, “Wanye, I doubt the Authentic would like you to call her that, and I also doubt she does not like things bounced off of her.”

“So, you want Jonathan and I to pitch this idea in Paris and get, let us say, ‘Devi Corporation’ funding and backing?”

“Yeah, that sums it up, but ‘wait, there is more.’ That is only one opinion. The resort thing is a money maker. But we need to be elsewhere than just holiday spots. Condominiums or condos, gated communities. Group ownership and homeowner associations.”

“Okay, I am familiar with the concept. How?”

“Say we build a fifteen to 60-condo estate of homes. We sell only to Devi. It is gated, so there is no outside interference. No one to notice our ageless beauty. We lived in a free-standing unit in San Bernadino, twenty years later in Adelaide, Australia, then a row house condo in South Africa and then Montreal or Vancouver.

There is a century of residences, toss in a two-decade stint in Cancun or someday Thailand or Brazil.

We do it like we do now, but not in single homes or farms, but on a more adaptive urban scale. It is easy-peasy.”

Evelyn grinned, “Paris in summer is not Paris in the spring, but I think I see shopping in my future.”

Los Angeles to Paris in under 11 hours. A new wide-bodied Boeing 747, with leg space, and an upstairs lounge. Not the cramped tin cans of the '60s, with adequate services, but a plane with four hundred happy and polite travellers. And not a Handley Page Halifax, with freezing temperatures and the wind in your hair. Not a sheepskin-lined leather jacket in sight.

The Authentic was surprised to get a phone call from Evelyn three days earlier, and she took the call directly as it was on her private line.

She was overjoyed to meet them. She had moved from Paris proper to the northwestern suburb of Saint-Germain-en-Laye.

“How are two of my favourite wandering people? I hope you like this new location. I purchased the old monastery adjoining it. There are large underground vaults on that land, so as an act of generosity to the French people, I bought it for a promise for the upper keep and preservation.”

“The less hectic life agrees with you, Madame.”

“Of course it does. Women like us need to relax and forget about the world's problems occasionally. A walk in the orchard does that for me.

“What is it you want to tell me, Jonathan?”

 “If we could sit on the terrace, it is a long story.”

She was exceptionally open to diversifying her assets, especially into money-making ventures. She had moved to this area a few years earlier and invested in local sports and arts. The local football team was about to merge with a Paris team and become Paris Saint-Germain, which proved to be a top-flight football team and the most successful team in France.

Eve suggested, “So, with the Devi-only condo proposal, we would have a block of urban land and control that no Standards are our neighbours? Maybe we should also create a buffer zone around them with medium long-term O.T.I.D. houses and pure short-term rentals to further isolate us from the outside.”

“I knew I saw something in you, sort of human shields against Standard intervention.”

“Yes.” Eve agreed.

Jonathan, I just thought of something that may help a marginalized segment of the Devi.”

“You mean LaJade, Authentic.”

“Indeed, I do. I believe she is currently in Antigua. I would like you to visit her and make an offer for her. Explain the resort and hotel plan to her and tell her if she wishes I or we could finance the same thing in the Gulf, Caribbean, and Western Atlantic.

Then tell her I will not contest her control there for a reasonable continuing fee, and perhaps we can have peace for the first time in four hundred years.”

Sell her on the idea that her people can go from island to island every five or ten years. The hotel guests are transitory. It would be a win-win.” 

What type of fee?”

“Well, Jonathan, we take 60 percent of the profits to pay off the initial loan, and after that, let her pitch you a number, and then you counter with two of three times it, and try to settle on about twenty percent. And hold that line. Because we have the power, the idea, the resources, and the money.”

Their arrival on the island was expected, and this time, they were met at the airport by a Mercedes-Benz W114. In the terminal, a man held a sign with their names on it.

Evelyn looked at the man and asked, “Are there any bars on the windows this trip? “

The man responded only with a slight grin.

“The Paris Prostitute wants to make a deal with me for peace? I will say she has grown a pair since we last met.” 

Jonathan leaned forward. “You met when, if I may be so bold as to ask when are where.”

Yes, a few decades or so, maybe longer. Yes, almost eighty-five years ago, in the summer of 1894, just before the Spanish–American War.”

Jonathan looked at Eve, who was looking back at him with an equally quizzical look on her face. They both thought the Authentic had said she had not left Paris since the 1816 wedding of Willem II, Prince of Orange-Nassau.

They both allowed that to slip by and over the next two days, they received LaJade’s agreement and blessing for the idea of building Devi back hotels and tourism zones, which would offer decades-long sanctuary to Devi for the Caribbean and elsewhere.

For most of the ten years, until the late 70s, there were no unmanageable crises for either of the Devi cultures. But that peace was shattered in November and December of 1979. The first concerning event was the fundamentalist and populist groundswell revolution against the Pahlavi monarchy in Iran. The second was the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan. Those events coincided with a meeting with the Devi Communicators at the Monte Carlo casino on Lucayan Beach, Grand Bahama Island.

The invasion brought to light one of the issues with Devi that everyone wished to hide, and no one wanted to talk about—their origin theory. 

38 YUKON

 “ The Yukon. What about the Yukon?” “You are kidding me, right?” “No, you lived in the wilds; you trapped and hunted. You know how to s...