First contact

FIRST CONTACT
By

Graham John Hunt













FIRST CONTACT



Preface



“You look concerned, Marci,” Joseph commented, opening the opportunity for
his student to share her problem
“It's just that I'm stuck on this project I am doing on Dr Walker,” the girl
replied. “It's not like you to get 'stuck',” Joseph replied. “ What is the nature
of your problem?”
“As you know, I am interested in being part of the new 'Original Intention'
Committee that has been proposed through the referendum. I have studied The
Book quite intently and am deeply committed to the concepts and principles

Dr Walker presented.” “Yes, I am well aware of your interest. The work you
have produced has been outstanding. That is why I had no hesitation of
providing a reference when approached by the Nominating Group about your
application to be considered.”

“I thank you for your support in that, Master. But my plan was to get a
working knowledge of the man himself, his background, the context in which
he wrote The Book, as a way of expanding this new Committee's basis for the
decisions it will be called on to make. All we seem to have at the moment is
The Book itself and the consistency of the ideas within it.”

“Ah, I see your problem,” Joseph nodded wisely, “And it's one for which there
is no easy solution.”

“What do you mean, Master? Marci asked, with some concern.

“You know the Nicholas Dean Walker Centre?” Joseph explained “Yes, of
course,” Marci replied. “It was one of my first excursions.” “Well there was a
time, in the early days of The Community, where it was much bigger than
what it is now. As well as the Induction Centre, it housed the Nicholas Dean
Walker Museum, which included all the man's writings, a history of the
Community from its very beginning as well as an interactive display of the
early days of Community, when it was not much more than some thoughts in
Dr Walker's head.” “So, where is it now?” Marci asked, with a hint of
indignation that she was not made aware of such a collection.

“Gone. All gone” Joseph said sadly. “The Capitalists, as they were known in
the Twenty First Century, sent a small team of people to destroy the Centre, in
the hope of destroying the Community before it really established itself among
the ordinary people. They worked on the assumption that the whole concept
of the Community was a fad, a flash in the pan that, given a rough time,
people would abandon in their droves. They blew the Centre to pieces, not
only destroying all those records, but killing virtually everyone who had
anything to do with collecting the knowledge of that period.”
“That is why any history we have of The Community dates from 2055, rather
than 2050, when The Awakening actually took place.” “That's terrible!” Marci
exclaimed. “But they were not successful!” she said proudly, “It was very
much touch and go for quite a while,” Joseph corrected. “Beliefs and strength
of conviction were sorely tested and some were found to be wanting. But, the
majority of people who experienced it first hand rallied and won the day.”
“How?” Marci asked, intrigued at how that was possible given the policy of
non aggression was one of the very basic tenets of the Community.“A policy
of non-co-operation was put into place, where Community members were
encouraged to bring outsiders to the attention of the local Council of Elders
who would simply remove the person and place them back into the City. That

was made easier with the development of Common Purse into the only
economic system within the Community, so outsiders had no means of
supporting themselves while they were within the Community boundaries.
Prior to that, Common Purse was gradually being phased in, but the events
that took place at that time increased the speed at which Common Purse was
implemented quite considerably.”

“There was also a ten year moratorium on outsiders becoming members of
Community, which didn't completely stop outsiders with malicious intent
from infiltrating the Community but certainly made it both more difficult to do
so and extended the time frame within which the Capitalists could not
develop a strong subversive network, so any plan they might have had in that
regard would be extremely long term indeed. “Members of the Community
were discouraged, but not forbidden from visiting the City, but a check point
was set up through which members had to pass in order to get there and if their
visits became too numerous, a cautious eye was kept on them, to ensure they
were not being recruited into clandestine groups.” “Why would anyone want
to visit the City?” Marci asked, visibly shuddering, totally repulsed by the
idea. “ You have to remember, Marci, that when The City was sectioned off as
being outside the Community, there were family members who were separated
from each other. Some, who had lived in The City, Sydney as it was then
known, who supported the concept of The Community moved away from
there, in some instances leaving loved ones, who did not share their
aspirations, behind.

“The Council of Governors held a referendum of the members of The
Community, and it was decided that individuals should not be punished, which
banning them from visiting family would be, simply because a small group,
within the City, had done something about which the general populace had no
say.


“It was also a pertinent reminder to both the general population within The
City, and the members of The Community just how different the two systems
are. On the one hand, within The Community, each individual had a say in the
final decision. On the other hand, a small group people, presumably with no
such authority to do so, chose a course of action without reference to whether
or not the ordinary people thought it was appropriate. I personally believe that
had the moratorium not been in place, we would have been inundated with
thousands of people wanting to become members of The Community simply
because of the stark contrasts between the two systems that event highlighted.”

“Was that not given consideration before the moratorium was set in place?”
Marci asked.

“ It was, definitely, but, the majority were persuaded by the argument that the
Community needed to mature a little more, and people needed to be given the
opportunity to experience a longer period of Community before it got so big
they might face problems they had not foreseen.”

“Besides that, with the Induction Centre destroyed, they had no dedicated
place to take enquirers. They needed time to rebuild that.”

“But why, in the almost 200 years since then, has no-one tried to replace that
which was lost? Surely that would be a priority,” Marci challenged.
“Obviously, the Community at that time did not share your...passion...for
information about Dr Walker. In their defence, for many people, he had been a
contemporary, so it wasn't given much thought. They had lived through the
time, knew the man, and didn't see the need to write it down for future
generations. Plus, their attention was strongly focussed on the very survival of
The Community and that was the pressing need at the time.” “Was he one of
those killed in the destruction of the Centre?” Marci asked. “I don't really
know. I must admit that I have not had the interest in Dr Walker you obviously
do.” Joseph admitted.“Well, he must have had a brilliant mind, well advanced
for his time, given what he wrote! That is what most interests me,” Marci,
responded, feeling she had to justify herself.





* * *



Joseph sat as his desk, thinking back over the events of the day. As was his
custom, he pulled down the thick bound book from the shelf over the desk and
turned to the next blank page. This was volume 15, the final one. He had
taken to journal writing when he was entrusted with the group of ten students,
which included Marci, almost fifteen years earlier. He had received detailed
information at that time about the role the young 5 year old Marci would
eventually have in the development of The Community and so he took
particular interest in her progress. He had watched her grow and develop into
an outstanding young woman, full of confidence, with just a touch of the rebel
spirit, ready to take on the world. Others who kept journals used a
computer. For Joseph there was a sense of timelessness about committing his
thoughts to paper, particularly after his wife had given him the gold fountain
pen for their fiftieth wedding anniversary. Hand writing was all but a lost art.
Joseph had taught himself many years earlier by studiously copying from a
calligraphy book he had picked up somewhere. Even the books were hand
made, as was the paper. This collection of journals was the only one of its

kind, given that paper was a thing of the past, at least within The Community.
He paused briefly, thinking back over the day. He smiled and reverentially
pressed the nib to the page.

Journal Entry: 24th March in the year of Awakening 195

Spent some time with Marci this afternoon, helping her clarify what she will
be doing for her final assignment. Was very careful not to divulge too much
information regarding her future. It is vitally important that she come to the
point of making that choice for herself. Little does she realise how vital the
role she will play in the development of The Community.

Love requires her commitment to the task ahead to be entirely her choice,
not some pre-determined agenda she feels compelled to complete for the sake
of The Community. It would appear Marci is expecting Dr Walker to
be quite advanced, ahead of his time. I could not shatter her illusion,
otherwise I might well have found myself having to explain more than is
appropriate.

All indications are Marci is not only ready for what lies ahead of her back in
the 21st Century, she is also keen to redress the issue of the missing history of
Dr Walker lost in the destruction of the Museum. Little does she know what a
pivotal role she, personally, will play in that story. My one true desire for
Marci is that she takes to the task ahead with the same dedication and
enthusiasm she has given to her other assignments.





CHAPTER ONE



How could she have possibly got it so wrong? She had double checked
what information she did have on him; double checked it, even; it all fitted.
So why was she so troubled by what she had observed over the past month?

Marci tapped her pen against the page two, three, four times. Then throwing
the pen down, trying to relieve her frustration, she sat back and stretched her
arms above her head. Deciding a break might help, Marci got up from the
table and took the six steps to the fridge, opened the door and took out the
orange juice. Then taking a fresh glass from the wall unit, she poured some of
the juice into the glass and put the container back into the fridge. It had been
the same question every night. Her research had stalled, stuck on that one
question. “How could this man she had been observing for the past month, be
the one who would write the book?” Either Marci had the wrong person or...
something dramatic would happen in his life that would change him from the

man he was at the moment to the man, Marci had envisaged, who could write
the book. It couldn’t be the first, so it must be the second. Marci wondered
whether her presence here might have something to do with it. She thought
about it for a brief moment, then, shaking her head, sat back down to the open
diary. ‘Nick Walker is very much a man of these times. He has little by way
of social ability, keeps very much to himself, has few friends and appears
awkward in the presence of others. He appears to have no direction or
purpose in his life. He has completed his doctoral studies, but has not planned
ahead and is, at present, literally sitting, waiting for something to present
itself.”

Marci paused, and again, tapped her pen against the page. She had to admit
that her ‘hero’ was, in reality, a huge disappointment. But then, that was
largely her fault. She had built a mental image of the man behind the words
who was larger than life. This Nick Walker was a far cry from that. What
could she do? Perhaps she should go home, acknowledge to the Master she
had taken on a huge endeavour, that was beyond her, and take on something
less challenging. After all, hadn’t the Master asked her whether she had
considered all the implications of her proposal? And she did so miss being
home, being with people of similar capacity, with things that were familiar. Or
could it be...a disturbing thought cut across her thinking....could it be that she
was here because she was meant to intervene? She pushed the thought aside. It
went against the strict conditions the Master had placed upon her before he
approved her proposal. To intervene would risk the potential of changing the
future dramatically, but in her mind, Marci knew not to intervene would also
have grave consequences for the world she knew. The Book had obviously
been written: The community that arose from the ideas in The Book existed.
But how? Could it be that she was meant to step in and change Nick's
direction; that this was the reason she found herself here, in this time? Was she
able to change things? Would it be beneficial or not? Marci was overwhelmed
by the enormity of the task. What if she got it wrong; if she failed? The
people here were so…she couldn’t think of the word…base. They were very
much into living for the moment, rather than in the moment. They were self-
centred , only interested in what they would gain, personally, from any
interaction with others. There seemed to be little if any consideration or
reflection whether the activity they were involved with, was beneficial. There
was definitely no sense of oneness

It was crude. it was ugly. It was a far cry from what Marci was used to. And,
to follow her original proposal she was destined to spend another 5 months
here! The only thing for it was to admit she was not ready for such an
assignment and accept the consequences. But she would sleep on it so she
could open herself to Universal Wisdom and see guidance as to what she

would do.





* * *



Marci woke as the clock ticked over to 6am. She had the answer to her
problem of last night, as she knew she would. In keeping with her practice, she
spent an hour in deep meditation before bouncing into the shower to prepare
herself for the day. She had a busy schedule ahead!

As she ate breakfast, a bowl of toasted muesli, with soy milk and a slice of
wholegrain toast spread with strawberry conserve, she jotted down the things
she needed to do. First on the list was to get to see Nick’s professor about
considering Nick for the short term teaching role that Marci knew was in the
offing. But before that, she needed to make herself respectable. For the past
month she had not bothered with anything too fancy, opting for the comfort of
track suits. But now she was going to be seeing people, and more to the point,
be seen by people, she needed something a little more dressy. Oh, and some
make up. Marci had been amazed at how much women in this time painted
their faces. ‘ Why?’ She thought, ‘what purpose does it achieve?’ But, if she
was going to look as if she fitted in, she needed to play the part. Perhaps she
could get one of those women in the store to do it for her. She had seen other
women sitting in chairs while someone dressed in a uniform applied the stuff
to their faces. That had been on the day she followed Nick, when he went in to
purchase some clothes for his graduation ceremony.

Checking she had everything, Marci pulled the door to the unit closed behind
her and skipped down the stairs and out into the street. A brisk walk into the
centre of the city was probably all the exercise she would manage today,
given her schedule, so she set off in that direction.

The morning was still quite bracing, the sun had not yet made its presence felt
over the multi storey buildings that lined the street. But it promised to be a
good day, in more ways than one. The only lingering doubt Marci had about
her plan was explaining to the Master. Surely, he would understand. After
all, she had applied the first two Principles of Choice to the situation

For the first time, Marci had realised, this dilemma was beyond even the
First Principle. The question was not simply, “ will this course of action be
beneficial to my ultimate destiny?” but more about what would happen to the
Community if the book was never to be written? That brought the Second
Principle into play: Would this course of action be beneficial to others?” This

problem was not just about Marci Williams' ultimate destiny, but also that of
everyone else who she loved, or even knew within the Community. Marci was
obligated to do everything within her capacity so The Second Principle didn’t
really come into play.

And her capacity was considerable, well beyond the knowledge and
experience one might expect from the almost 20 years of this particular
incarnation. Of course, Marci had the distinct advantage of having access to
forty five percent of her mental capacity, compared with the normal five to
eight percent for the average person of this period.

In her home environment Marci was about midrange with her mental capacity,
but she had chosen to travel to another time period, back two hundred years to
the time when the book that was the foundational text for Community of
which she was a part, had been written.

Very little of the history of Dr Nicholas Dean Walker, the author of The Book
had survived due, in large part, to continued concerted effort on the part of
those who opposed The Community to wipe any reference to him from the
pages of history.

There had been a period where even the book was almost lost, and would have
been, save for the actions of a few brave people who had managed to hide the
last remaining copies.

Marci’s reason for travelling back in time to the year 2005 was because for her
final, independent project before graduating from her education, Marci had
undertaken to do a first-hand study of Dr Nicholas Dean Walker, his life and
times and, hopefully, replace that which had been destroyed.

What Marci found, however, was that this Dr Nicholas Dean Walker was not
her hero, nothing like him. Her ability to become invisible to the naked eye by
increasing the frequency of her vibration made it possible for Marci to observe
her subject from very close range. She had even spent considerable time
reading his thoughts. Her conclusion after only one month of such observation
led Marci to the view there was no way this man, in his current state of
development, could possibly write the book that would be the foundational
text of the Community of which she was a part.

But, she was jolted back to the moment when a man, focused more on his
mobile phone than where he was going, almost walked straight into her,
despite the fact she was clearly visible as she had been since she left the unit.
She had decided that to suddenly appear in the middle of a department store
was not a wise move. Beside, if she was to make herself known to people she
needed to get used to the idea. It was a case of first things first. She needed
to get some good clothes so now, as she did make herself known, people

would find her hard to forget.





* * *



“Congratulations, Nick, or should I say, Doctor Walker, you sly dog, you. If I
was 30 years younger, and not married, I’d certainly give you a run for your
money.” Nick reached out to shake the hand proffered. “Thank you Professor,”
replied Nick, quizzically, “but what on earth are you talking about?”

“You’ve always said you had no time for relationships, with your studies and
all,” the Professor continued. “Remember all those functions you when came
to alone? Yet, suddenly you have that drop dead gorgeous young woman
singing your praises.”

“I’m sorry, Professor,” Nick confessed. “I still have no idea what you're
getting at!”

“Okay, have it your way,” the Professor said, as his face reddened. Nick
wasn’t sure whether the older man’s blush was embarrassment or anger.
“Anyway, I wanted to know what plans you have. What are you going to do
with yourself now you have finished your studies?”

“Haven’t given much thought to anything else than studying for the past seven
years. I guess I’ll have to get a real job,” Nick admitted, as he, too, started to
blush.

“Well, I have a proposition to put to you. I was undecided as to whether I
would choose you or young Hawkes until I spoke to your lovely young friend.
No need to be embarrassed about her, Nick. She’s obviously infatuated with
you. Come and see me tomorrow. I’m teaching first thing, so how does eleven
suit you?” Before Nick had a chance to answer, the Professor strode off to
catch the Vice-Chancellor who, herself, was making a very concerted attempt
to leave the reception. Left standing by himself, Nick scanned the room for a
familiar face, someone he could talk to. Not that small talk or chitter-chatter,
as he called it, was high on his list of things to do before he died. As his focus
moved from person to person he saw her. The first thing he noticed was her
hair. Framing her angelic face, it cascaded down over her shoulders, with a
rebellious curl hanging provocatively over one eye. But it was the colour that
really caught his attention. It reminded him of the spectacular sunsets over the
water he had experienced at the beach where his family spent his childhood
holidays.

The sun shining through the window behind her lifted the vision before him to
heavenly status as her hair became a golden halo. Transfixed as he was, Nick
held his gaze a moment more than might be considered acceptable by anyone
more in tune with social niceties. He became aware the young woman was
looking back at him, her gaze sure and steady. She raised the glass she held in
her hand in a gesture of acknowledgement, then raised it to her ruby lips and
took a sip. As she lowered the glass slowly, seductively, she smiled. Not a coy
embarrassed smile, but the smile of a confident woman who continued to hold
Nick's gaze. Anyone else not paying close attention would have missed it, but
Nick knew it was meant only for him. In that moment, the air between them
became so electric Nick felt his skin start to tingle. He knew, with-out a doubt,
this was the woman the professor had spoken about. ‘The Prof. was right,’ he
thought, ‘she is drop dead gorgeous.’





* * *



“Get a wriggle on, young man. The reservations are for seven. We don’t want
to lose them.” Even through the bathroom door, with the shower running, and
the radio on, Nick could hear the agitation in his mother’s voice. “Yes, Mum”
he replied, as he turned the water off.. ‘Poor old Mum. She’s always been a
stickler for punctuality. I reckon she’ll be early for her own funeral,’ he
thought, as he reached for the towel hanging on the rail. As he dried himself,
he noticed his wrinkled fingertips. ‘Curious,’ he thought, ‘must have been in
the shower longer than I thought. No wonder Mum’s panicking. His thoughts
drifted yet again to the mysterious woman he encountered that afternoon. ‘I
bet her life’s not ruled by the clock’ “Hurry up! We’re waiting for you.” Nick
snapped back to reality yet again as he stood, blindly staring at the reflection
that gazed blankly back at him from the bathroom mirror. “Get a grip, boy,” he
said to himself, parroting his father’s favourite line as he pulled the brush
through his hair. “You don’t know who she is. You don’t know where she’s
from. You don’t even know her name. Nick had lost count of the number of
times he’d gone back over the afternoon and replayed their encounter. ‘Gutless
wonder,’ he berated himself, for the umpteenth time, ‘you could have at least
talked to her. But oh no, you had to run away like a scared little kitten. Oh,
well, just mark it down as another lost opportunity.’ “In the car, now!” his
father yelled. Nick could see this evening was getting off to a really good start,
as he turned and almost tripped over his mother who had come back into the
house to get him.

“We don’t want to lose our reservations,” his mother said, grabbing him by the

arm and pushing him towards the front door. Nick opened his mouth to excuse
himself from going, but the words didn’t come. After all, he was the guest of
honour. The only reason the family was going to dinner this evening was to
celebrate Nick’s graduation. Besides, having the family together in the same
place at the same time would be a once-in-a blue-moon event, let alone all of
them going out to eat. His father always insisted a home cooked meal was
best. What he really meant was whenever they went out for dinner he was
usually so drunk he often ordered something he didn’t like and spent the rest
of the evening complaining.





* * *



“So tell me Nicky,” started his mother, as they took their seats at the table,
“does this mean you’ll come out of your room to eat with the rest of the family
now?” “Jean, leave the boy alone,” piped in Nick’s father before Nick had a
chance to answer. “This is supposed to be a celebration, so let’s celebrate.
Who wants a drink?” as he stood and started towards the bar, without waiting
for an answer. No one else in the family drank, at least not alcohol, so in his
opinion they weren’t worth worrying about. “Congratulations, little
brother,” Jude said as she raised her glass of water to toast Nick, “What are
you going to do with all your chunks of alphabet?” “Not really sure yet,” Nick
replied, somewhat guardedly. “The Prof wants to see me tomorrow and I’ve
got an interview with one of the churches in the city to look at becoming their
second minister." “Never thought my little brother would follow through with
it. How will I ever face my friends again, when my brother becomes a holy
Joe?” Jude said, only half joking. His older sister did not share Nick’s beliefs.
Due to an unpleasant experience in her past Jude was quite anti-church, which
in her case meant anti-God. She referred to herself as a non-practicing Atheist.
“What do you mean, ‘follow through’?” asked Nick. “Don’t you remember
Nicky,” his mother butted in, “when you were three and we went to your
cousin’s christening. As you shook the priest’s hand after the service you said
you wanted a job like his so you could wear a dress and stick your hands up
the sleeves, just like him. You certainly tickled his funny bone. He probably
still gets a chuckle out of it.” “That’s if the old codger hasn’t kicked the
bucket,” Jude said, laughing. “Judith!” her mother snapped, “don’t dare speak
ill of the dead like that. He’s likely as not to come back and haunt you.”
“Excuse me,” a voice interrupted from somewhere behind Nick, “I’m Marci
and its my pleasure to serve you this evening.” Like magic, a menu appeared
before all three sitting at the table. “The table is set for five,” the waitress
noted, “Will there be any more people joining your party this evening?” “Oh,

my husband is at the bar, I’ll be ordering for him,” explained Nick’s mother,
then turning to Jude, “What about Mikey?”.“I’ve told you, Mum, it’s Michael,
and he’s had to work back. He’s hoping to join us for coffee.” Nick opened
his menu and started to browse. Suddenly, he felt some movement at his
shoulder. As he turned, his field of vision was filled with a vision of beauty so
flawless he gasped involuntarily. He felt heady from her perfume. It was the
young woman from the reception this afternoon. Her face was so close to his,
their cheeks were almost touching. “You’ll find the vegetarian dishes over
the page, Dr Walker,” she said in a whisper, meant only for his ears. As Marci
reached out to turn the menu, their hands touched, ever so lightly, yet the flow
of energy between the two was almost visible. Nick felt his chest start to
tighten. “But Nicky’s not vegetarian,” his mother broke in, being well
practised in the art of eavesdropping. “Mum, please!” Nick spurted, as he felt
his face redden at his mother’s intrusion.“Oh,” the waitress replied, taking a
step back as if she had been hit. “I was simply trying to be helpful. Perhaps,
I’ll come back to take your orders shortly.” With that, she turned on her heel
and was gone. “Mum, don't do that!” Nick pleaded, in a loud whisper. Well,
you’re not a vegetarian. No need to get all thingy about it,” his mother
snapped, defensively. “Embarrassed is the word, Mum,” Jude said with a
smirk. “And I think little brother got embarrassed ‘cause he’s got the hots for
the little waitress. Always had a thing for redheads, haven’t you little
brother?” “Judith!” snapped her mother, “that’s enough. No need to drag up
the past, particularly that past.” “I need some fresh air. It’s getting a bit thick in
here,” Nick said, standing and moving away quickly to escape any more
awkward moments. Without turning back, he strode deliberately to the door
and throwing it wide stepped out into the cool, dark night. How did she
know his name? What were the odds that of all the restaurants in the city, she
would work at the one his family had chosen? What was it about her that made
him go to jelly whenever she was around? These were just some of the
questions for which he had no answers. And that was not a comfortable place
for Nick Walker to be. Normally, whenever there was a question, Nick could
find the answer. Even when his fiancé, the redhead Jude had made a not-so
subtle reference to, ended their engagement, he kept probing until he got the
answer. “You’re more in love with your books than you are with me,” she had
said. And Nick had to admit she was right. No, having questions to which he
couldn’t find the answers was not a comfortable place to be. But what was he
to do? “Nick, Mum wants to know what do you want to eat.” Off in his own
thought world, where he usually felt secure, Nick had not noticed his sister
come and stand alongside him. “I’m not all that hungry. I had a lot to eat at
the reception after the ceremony this afternoon.” “Hey come on little
brother,” Jude said as she put her arm around his shoulders. “I’m sorry for
being so bitchy. It’s just… Michael and I have got a few issues we’re trying to

sort through at the moment and…” “Anything I can help with?” Nick asked,
with some concern. “Not unless you’ve got a few hundred thou’ so we can
compete against the multi-national threatening to squeeze us out of business.”
Nick reached his hand into his pocket and pulled out some coins. “Let me see,
I can manage $8.25 just at the moment. Will that help?” Keep your money, Mr
Trump! We’ll find another backer,” Jude chuckled as she playfully pushed
Nick through the door back into the restaurant.





* * *



“Morning, Mr. Forgetful, what can I do...no, don’t tell me. You forgot your
key again?” Nick smiled at the playful jibe from the Theology Department’s
Admin Assistant.“Well, Sally, they say confession is good for the soul. Yes, I
did,” he replied, “and as of yesterday it’s Doctor Forgetful, if you don’t
mind.” “Congratulations, Doc,” she said without any real enthusiasm as
she gave him a peck on the cheek. Sally always had a warm affection for this
one, but then she’d always been the mother hen figure for the dozens of
pimply-faced kids who came through these halls and thereby extended the
time they spent living in their heads before they went out into the real world
and tried to actually earn a living. “Does that mean you’ll be moving on?
However will I fill in my day when I’m not running around after you?” Sally
quipped, with a touch of sarcasm. “Well, don’t go looking for extra work just
yet. The Prof. wants to see me at eleven. Says he’s got a proposition for me,”
Nick responded.

“Hmm. Sounds interesting. So why are you here at this hour?” Sally asked,
looking up at the clock that showed five past nine.“Oh, got to clean out my
side of the office to make way for the next victim, and tidy up a few things
over at the Registry,” Nick responded. “Well, I’d better not keep you then. I’ve
seen the state of that office. I’m glad it’s you and not me who has to clean it
up. Don’t you dare lose this one,” Sally warned as she dropped the key with an
over-sized metal tag attached, with a clang, onto the counter in front of him.
“These tags get bigger every time I use the key,” Nick complained as he
picked it up.“All the harder for you to lose,” Sally replied as she went back to
her desk.





* * *

“Ah, Nick, do come in and take a seat, if you can find one!” the Professor said
as he glanced up from what he was doing to see who was knocking on his
door. As had been the case for as long as Nick could remember, every flat
surface in the Professor’s office was covered in books and assorted piles of
paper. Nick crabbed his way through the obstacle course to the chair with the
smallest pile on it. Picking the papers up he looked around for somewhere to
put them. “I’ll take those,” offered the Professor. “Don’t want to lose track of
anything.” Nick marvelled, yet again, how the Professor had always been able
to lay his hand on the book or paper he was looking for quite quickly, despite
the apparent chaos. “I’ll get right to the point, Nick. I am in a position to
offer you a 16-month teaching contract that will take you through ‘til the end
of next year. The exchange lecturer we had lined up has had to pull out at the
last moment and left us with a major hole we need to fill quickly. Although
this is strictly confidential, I also know a vacancy for a lecturer in theology
will be coming up at that time. Should you prove yourself to be as good as I
believe you are, you’d virtually have front running for that tenured position.”
Nick sat, not moving or saying anything. “Hello,” said the professor. “Earth to
Doctor Walker, come in, please.” “I’m sorry, Professor. This is so much out of
left field. I don’t really know what to say. I feel honoured, of course, but, why
me? What about Charlie Hawkes?” “As I mentioned yesterday at the
reception, it has been a toss up between you and Hawkes, until…” the
Professor hesitated, but only for a moment, “until I met that lovely young
friend of yours. I’ll admit, until that point, Hawkes had the edge, but she
certainly tipped the scales in your favour.” “May I speak plainly?” asked Nick.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Nick,” the Professor replied. “I feel uneasy
about the fact I am being offered this position because some young woman,
who I…I…barely know, has used her considerable charm to tip the balance in
my favour!” Nick realised during his little outburst he was sitting quite erect
and suddenly felt the urge to take the tension out of the situation by relaxing
back into chair. As he sat back, he felt something on the chair behind him. He
reached behind him and pulled out a familiar looking bound volume. It was his
thesis. He put it on the desk in front of him. “Well, thank you for your
concern, Nick.” It was the Professor’s turn to sit erect in his chair. “But let me
speak just as plainly. After your…friend spoke to me yesterday, I came back
here and spent a number of hours re-reading parts of your thesis. You are a
gifted young man who, I believe will make a significant contribution to this
department. The things the young woman said gave me another perspective
confirmed by this work.” He held up Nick’s thesis as if it were proof of his
argument.After a brief pause, the Professor continued. “My reasons for
preferring Hawkes over you, were…well, let me say they had more to do with
personality than potential, which, if I’m honest should be the main criterion
for which of you gets the job. With that in mind, I choose you over Hawkes,

because you are, by far more academically gifted, even if he is more
agreeable. “The more I think about it, perhaps he is too agreeable. If there is
one thing I don’t want in this department, it’s another boot licker.” He stopped
in a moment of reflection. “Anyway enough of that; we’ve had our
differences, you and I. And, egotistical old fool that am, I‘ve allowed that to
colour my opinion of you. But, your willingness to speak plainly, without fear
or favour, as you did just now, only helps to reinforce my belief I made the
right choice.” “Thank you, Professor,” was about all Nick could think to say
after being put back in his place. “I need some time to think about this. As I
said, it comes as quite a surprise. All I really anticipated was you were going
to offer a continuation of my tutoring position. When do you need my
answer?” “The mid semester break starts at the end of next week. We have two
weeks break from teaching. I’d like to have this all in place as soon as
possible. Is a week’s thinking time long enough?” the Professor suggested..
“No problem. I’ll get back to you either way within the week,” Nick said as he
stood to leave. “And Nick, say hello to your young friend for me next time
you see her,” the Professor said as he reached out his hand in a conciliatory
gesture. “Don’t know when, even if, that’ll be,” said Nick. “Given the way she
spoke yesterday she seems to know a lot more about you than you do about
her.”“Maybe so, but I don’t recall seeing her around the place,” Nick said
defensively.“Maybe that’s because until yesterday the only thing you’ve seen
beyond the end of your nose in the last few years was a book,” the Professor
said with a chuckle. “Take it from someone whose been around a long time,
books are great, but they’re extremely uncomfortable to cuddle up to when
you are lying in bed at night.” “Professor! Don’t corrupt the boy, please,”
chided Sally, standing in the doorway with a tray. “Coffee break,” she chanted
as she placed the tray on some files on the corner of the desk, the only flat
space she could find. The smell of brewed coffee suddenly made Nick realise
how hungry he was. ‘Not surprising,’ he thought, as he remembered the
tumultuous events of the past twenty-four hours. After all, he had skipped
breakfast that morning and the vegetarian lasagne he ordered at the restaurant
last night hadn’t seemed anywhere near as satisfying as a good old-fashioned
steak would have been.





CHAPTER TWO



“ Is this seat taken?”Nick looked up from his book, annoyed someone had
gatecrashed his space. “Don’t expect me to chitter-chatter,” he thought to
himself as he took a moment to focus on the intruder. Squinting against the
harsh glare he suddenly caught a hint of the heady aroma that took him back to

the moment of pure ecstasy in the restaurant. He sprang to his feet, and in the
process knocked his seat over. “Er, no… no… please sit down,” as he pulled
out the seat on the other side of the table and gestured for the young woman to
sit. “And such a gentleman, too!” the young woman laughed as she sat in
the offered chair. As he gained his composure she reached out her hand and
said “Hi, Nick. I’m Marci”As he took her hand Nick said “Yes…we…the
restaurant…I’m sorry, you caught me by surprise, I was reading my book.”
Then, pausing, as if the question had only just revealed itself, which it had,
“How do you know my name? ” “If you let me have my hand back, I’ll tell
you.” “Oh, yes, of course,” Nick stuttered as he face reddened. “Where I come
from you are quite famous, Doctor Nicholas Dean Walker,” Marci explained.


“Bu…wha…who me? No, I’m sorry, you must be mistaken,” Nick spluttered,
as he tried in vain to stop from choking on a mouth full of sandwich. “Yes,
perhaps I am,” Marci said, quickly changing the subject. “So tell me about this
Doctor Nicholas Dean Walker.” “Not much to tell really,” replied Nick. “I’ve
just finished my studies and now I’m considering my options.” “So you’re
looking for a job?” Marci interpreted. “Any prospects?” “Well, the major
focus of my studies has been in theology, so I am on the books for some form
of ministry. In fact I'm in the process of negotiating with a city based church
looking for a second minister. I originally came to Uni to study for the
ministry so that has some appeal, but the Professor of Theology has just
offered me a teaching contract,” Nick explained, suddenly realising he’d just
revealed more of himself to this stranger than he’d ever done to anyone else.
“And what are you thinking at this point?” Marci enquired. “I don’t really
know,” Nick continued. “I came to uni to train for ministry, but I’ve really
enjoyed the last seven years in the academic world. It’s very much…. I don’t
know quite how to put it…but it’s me.” “So what did you tell the Professor?”
“I asked for some time to think about it. He needs an answer by next
week.”“Looks like you have some decisions to make, ” Marci said as she
reached out and took Nick’s hands in hers. “The only thing I can offer is what
my ma… my teacher always tells me. Go with the choice that will be
beneficial to your ultimate destiny.” “But I'm not really sure what that is,”
Nick replied. “In that case, you have some serious soul searching to do,”
Marci said as she stood from her chair. “I’d like to offer some help, if you will
let me.” She reached into he bag and pulled out a small card. “Here’s how you
can contact me. If there’s anything…”By this time Nick was on his feet,
desperate for this moment not to end. “Can’t you stay? I find it so easy to talk
to you.”Marci moved forward and hugged him. “Some of us have to work for
a living. Call me… promise?” With that she was gone. stood, stunned by what
had just happened, for what seemed an eternity but in reality was only a few
seconds. He looked down at the card, then in a moment of impetuosity, which

was so unlike him, rushed forward from the covered alcove where they had
been sitting hoping to spend a few minutes more with Marci by walking with
her at least part of the way. As he reached the main path he looked in both
directions, but couldn’t see her anywhere. ‘That’s strange,’ he thought,
knowing full well the path went some considerable way in either direction
before veering off. Shrugging his shoulders, Nick took another look at the
card, then putting it into his coat pocket made his way to the transport
interchange, suddenly desperate to get home to the safety of his own room. It
was only as the train pulled away from the station he remembered the half
eaten sandwich and book, still lying on the table under the sheltered alcove.





* * *

“There was a phone call for you earlier,” Nick’s mother said as he opened the
front door. “Some man said he needed to speak to you. Sounded rather
important.”“Did he say what it was about?” Nick enquired . “Not really.
You haven’t done anything stupid, have you?” his mother interrogated, as she
put her hands on her hips, the tea towel hanging from her left hand. “Because,
if you have…” In a flash she flicked the tea towel with well practised accuracy
against the back of Nick’s leg. “Ouch! Mum that hurt,” Nick complained,
rubbing his leg. “No I haven’t done anything wrong and besides, I’m 25 years
old. So even if I had, it would be my problem, not yours.” “Well, you live
under my roof, you live by my rules, young man, and don’t you forget it.”
Nick saw the second flick coming and ducked into his room so the door frame
took the sting. Closing the bedroom door Nick went straight to his private
stash of muesli bars and chose something to hold his hunger at bay until
dinner. As he took the first bite he picked up the piece of paper on his desk and
immediately recognised the name. It was the secretary of the church to which
he had been invited to consider the second ministry position. Barely had he
dialed the number when a rather brusque voice answered. “Hawkins.”“Hello
Mr Hawkins, this is Nick Walker,” he said, swallowing quickly so he could
speak properly. “Ah, Dr Walker, thank you for returning my call. I know it is
short notice, but Church Council is very keen to meet with you. We’ve read
your profile and are very interested in taking this matter further. We have our
monthly meeting scheduled for tomorrow evening and, if you were available,
we thought we could defer our general meeting and spend the time with you.”
“Er, well, yes. I could make myself available tomorrow evening,” Nick
answered as he grimaced, uncertain he would be ready. “That’s very obliging
of you, young man. We are due to meet at nineteen thirty hours, so if you
could perhaps join us at twenty hundred hours, that would be ideal.”
“Certainly, Mr Hawkins.” “When you arrive at the church complex, simply

wait in the foyer. I will come and get you when we are ready to parley. Any
questions?” “No…not that I can think of.” “Tomorrow evening at twenty
hundred hours, then. Goodbye.” A myriad of thoughts rushed through Nick’s
mind as he put the phone down. He ran the full gamut of feelings in record
time. ‘What on earth is happening to me?’ he thought. This was supposed to be
the time when he finally started to achieve something with his life. Rather than
being happy and content, he was anxious and confused. Then he remembered
the card. He flew across the room and grabbed his coat from the back of the
chair where he had hung it when he came in. With his hands shaking so much
he felt sure he would punch in the wrong numbers. Just before the number
rang out he was connected to a message bank. “Hi Nick,” came that
unmistakable voice “please don’t hang up. I can’t answer because I’m working
at the moment. Remember my job at the restaurant? Please leave a message
and I will get back to you as soon as I can, I promise.” “Marci, can we please
talk. I need your help,” Nick gushed and dropped the receiver back in its
cradle before the thought struck him. ‘That was a personal voice message to
me.’ “Dinner’s ready,” accompanied by a loud knock on his door stopped
Nick’s thoughts before they really got started. ‘More questions without
answers,’ he thought as he made his way out to dinner leaving the muesli bar
barely touched on his desk.





* * *



After dinner Nick went to his room and started up his computer. ‘Maybe if I
distract myself, I won’t start thinking about things I have no control over.’ He
unlocked the filing cabinet and taking out the flash drive, inserted it into his
computer. With a few clicks he opened the only file on the removable drive
and started to scroll through its all-too-familiar pages. It was the digital
version of his thesis. His supervisor had suggested, unofficially, of course, that
with a little work, it would be snapped up by a publisher. As he scrolled
through the pages, Nick began to relive the many hours of research he had put
into this endeavour, and how alive he felt throughout the process. Part of him
felt it would be somehow sacrilegious to change anything contained within
those pages. Another part envisaged the time when his book would be on the
best-seller list, with all the associated talk show appearances and book
signings. He would become rich and famous. That way he could devote more
of his life to research and writing which he was beginning to acknowledge was
his true, his only real passion.

* * *



The ring of the phone startled him. He picked up the receiver quickly so as not
to face a long winded explanation had his mother happened to answer. The
clock on the bedside table told Nick it was ten-thirty. “Hello,” he said, his
voice full of sleep. He didn’t think he had nodded off, but maybe he
had. “Nick? Are you okay?” Marci said with more than a touch of concern
in her voice.“Oh, hi Marci. Yeah…yeah, I’m fine.” “It’s just that your message
sounded so urgent.” Nick could still hear the concern.“Oh, I was going
through a bit of a rough patch earlier but I’m okay now,” he explained. “That
doesn’t sound like you. You’re one of the most unflappable people I’ve met”
“Yeah, that’s true,” Nick agreed. “I work hard at finding satisfactory answers
to the questions I have developed. But just lately there are all sorts of
questions I don’t have the answers for, and I don’t know where to start looking
for them. It’s a bit…unnerving.”“It’s called living on the edge, Nick. I do it all
the time. It’s what makes life worth living,” Marci said, her voice starting to
regain a little of the confidence he had seen earlier that day. “Well I don’t like
living on the edge. I’m a two feet planted firmly on solid ground sort of guy,
even if my mind does sometimes wander.” “If that’s who you are, there is
absolutely nothing wrong with that.” “Well, I thought I was doing okay,
until….” “Until what, Nick?” “Until …I don’t really know how to say this…
until you came and turned my world upside down.” “Oh Nick I’m so sorry…It
wasn’t meant to be like this,” Marci said, apologetically“What are you talking
about?” Nothing but silence from the other end…”Marci are you still
there?”“Yes, Nick. I’m still here.” “It’s just that…most of the unanswerable
questions I have are about you.” “Oh….” Marci said. “Can we meet? “How
about lunch tomorrow?” “I’m sorry Nick. I have to work the lunch shift
tomorrow. Why don’t I take you out for dinner? My treat.”“I’ve got a stupid
appointment to meet with the Church Council at church in the city tomorrow
night” “Really? The way you spoke at lunchtime I didn’t realise there was
anything definite.” “Oh, it was all arranged after I got home this afternoon.”
“I’m not really up on these things, but that seems rather short notice doesn’t
it?” “Yes it is. But apparently they are really keen to talk with me and get
things moving, one way or the other. You see, within our particular church
system, a church can’t consider more than one prospective minister at a time. I
guess they want to check me out and if I don’t measure up, move on to the
next.”

“Rather you than me, Nick.” “I take it you are not a great fan of the church.”

“Not if you mean organised religion, no. But maybe that’s another topic for

another time.”.

“So,” said Nick, stifling a yawn, “when, and where can we meet?”

“What time do you expect this meeting to finish tomorrow night?”

“About nine.”

“Why don’t I meet you there, and we can go somewhere and have a coffee?”

“Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t suggest it if I wasn’t. Where is the meeting?”

“Christ Church, in the city”, Nick replied

“Yes, I know it”, Marci confirmed “See you then…then.”

“Goodnight, Nick. Sweet dreams.”

“Goodnight, sweet lady.” By the time Nick had gathered the courage to say the
words she had gone.





* * *



“Marci, I am so, so sorry I kept you waiting,” Nick said as he appeared from
the foreboding shadows of the neo-gothic building. Marci threw her arms
around him and hugged him tight.

“Don’t be silly. I’ve been so caught up in the comings and goings of the
fascinating characters around here I didn’t even notice the time. You must
have made quite an impression.”

“You could say that,” Nick mused, then lapsed into silence. Sensing his mood,
Marci linked her arm in his and silently, started walking. As they walked past
the town hall the clock chimed for nine forty five. They passed by a number of
coffee shops, but each time Marci kept walking.

When they got almost to the city limits Marci guided Nick through a dimly lit
doorway into a small, rather neat shop front. From one of the numerous doors
a small man dressed in waiter’s clothing appeared and without a word ushered
them into another room. As his eyes adjusted to the soft lighting, Nick
could see Marci had already taken a seat on a three-seater lounge. She patted
the seat along side her, and Nick, taking his cue sat down. Gently Marci
loosened the knot of his tie and taking each foot removed his shoes and placed

his feet on the coffee table that took up most of the room. Then ever so gently
she massaged his temples. It felt so good Nick relaxed back into the couch,
closed his eyes and found himself floating weightless in a pool of soft golden
light. “You just sit there and relax. I’ll go and organise some drinks.” In no
time at all, Marci was back, floating with him in the pool of light.

“Here, try this, I think you’ll like it,” she said, holding out a glass. Nick took
the glass and sipped. It was a taste he had never experienced before. He turned
to speak, but raising her finger to his lips, Marci said, “Just immerse yourself
in the experience.”





CHAPTER THREE



“Feeling any better this morning?” Marci asked, pulling back the drapes.
Struck by the morning light Nick groaned and rolled over, covering his head
with the pillow. Slowly, as he became aware of his surroundings the panic
started to rise. Where was he? How did he get here? What on earth was going
on? He glanced across the room as the door opened. Marci tentatively made
her way into the room carrying a tray. She looked a picture of radiant health,
dressed as she was in a pale blue tracksuit. Carefully she carried the tray to the
bed by which time Nick was sitting up, his back resting against the headboard.
She placed the tray in front of him then plonked herself down on the bed and
picked up a slice of toast from the plate. “Come on, eat up. I didn’t slave over
a hot toaster for nothing,” Marci said with a laugh as she leaned forward and
kissed Nick on the forehead. “What’s the matter? You look like you have
taken on all the worries of the world.”.“Where am I? What am I doing here?
And how on earth did I get here?” Nick snapped.

“Not even up yet and already you’ve managed to get out of the wrong side of
the bed,” Marci replied, un-phased by Nick’s outburst. “All will be explained
in good time. But first some breakfast and a shower.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not really a morning person,” Nick said sheepishly, trying a
more conciliatory tack. “But I am confused. The last thing I remember I
was…”

“…immersed in a pool of light. Yes I know,” Marci continued. “And you wake
up in a strange bed, with no idea of how you got here or why. The answer is
simple. It got so late last night you missed the last train. This is my unit, which
is above the coffee shop we went to, so rather than you sleeping in the gutter I
bought you up here to sleep with me.”

“Sleep with you? You mean, in the same bed?” “Of course,” replied Marci,
quite matter-of-factly, “you don’t see any other beds here do you?” she said
looking around the small room.

“Did we…”asked Nick with a rising note of panic in his voice.

“Have sex? No! Although seeing you laying there, I have to admit I was sorely
tempted,” Marci confessed.

“Where…where are my clothes?” Nick asked, realising beneath the bedclothes
he was naked.

“Don’t worry, once I had undressed you, I folded them neatly and left them in
the other room,” said Marci, again in a matter of fact manner. “You undressed
me!” exclaimed Nick. Involuntarily he pulled the bedclothes up to his chin,
upsetting the breakfast tray in the process. “Of course I undressed you, silly
boy. You weren’t really with it enough to undress yourself.”

“You could have at least allowed me a little dignity by leaving my boxer
shorts on,” Nick protested. “Oh!” Marci said in surprise “Doesn’t everyone
slept naked? Anyway, don’t be such a worrywart. You have absolutely nothing
to be embarrassed about, or ashamed of. The human body is truly a work of
art, a thing of beauty, yet so many people treat it with shame and guilt and
disgust” With that, Marci stood, giving up trying to salvage the breakfast tray,
stripped off her clothes, adopted a quick pose then rubbing her arms and
shivering, climbed into bed with Nick. "Bit nippy out there," she explained.

Nick, taken aback by it all moved as far as he could from Marci and was
almost about to get out of bed completely, until he remembered under the
cover, he too was completely naked.

"What are you doing?" He asked tentatively.

"Proving my point," Marci replied. Do you think I'm unattractive," she asked.

"No, far from it!" Nick exclaimed.

"What about when I'm naked?" she pushed.

"Er..." Nick hesitated.

"Come on, Nick...Are you embarrassed?'

" A little." He felt himself blushing.

"So, do you find me as attractive when I am naked as I am when I have clothes
on?"

"It's different..." Nick mumbled. "It's still me, It doesn't change who I am,"

Marci declared. "No, but usually, when men and women are naked together it
means...." Nick countered

"At its best, it means they have become so committed to one another they have
broken through the lie that they are separate individuals and give themselves
to each other in the ultimate physical act of oneness. It is a beautiful thing. But
from what I have observed, most sexual activity falls very sadly short of that
ideal."

"That's for sure," Nick agreed, relaxing just a little as he realised Marci wasn't
about to do something he wasn't ready for.

“What should be a beautiful thing is made to seem dirty and becomes the
subject of much of what passes as humour. So the human body becomes an
object to be lusted after and in the process, people get all hung up about
whether or not their body measures up to some impossible standard."

"That's so true," Nick agreed, warming to what Marci was saying.

"Comparisons are never helpful," Marci continued, "in any form, and if you
will allow me, I can show you a way out of the constant competition you've
been caught up in."

"How is it you know so much?" Nick asked, "you seem to be much more
mature than most other people, even those who are much older than you would
be?"

"Because from a very early age I have been taught to observe what is, to
analyse critically what it means and speak to that situation, always giving
consideration for what is beneficial to all concerned,” Marci explained.

"You obviously didn't go to the school I went to!" Nick exclaimed.

"No," Marci confirmed, "I didn't go to any school, I have been taught right
from the beginning in my home, with a program developed just for me."

"Home schooled? Yet you seem so well balanced with it. Most of the people I
know who are home schooled tend to be a bit lop sided in their thinking,
mainly because their parents home schooled them because of their strict
religious beliefs."

"Well, I can't speak for others, but I believe my learning has been very
balanced..."

"Obviously!" And, if you like I can take you to meet my...teacher. I know he
would like to meet you."

"He must be an extraordinary man if you are who you are because of his

teaching," Nick said.

"Well, I'd like to think he had something pretty good to work with," Marci
chuckled as she got out of bed and put her clothes back on. "I'll go and make
some more toast and give you a chance to have a shower and get dressed. I'll
bring your clothes in for you and leave them on the bed while you are in the
shower, which is just through there, and you'll find a fresh towel on the
shelves next to the hand basin." With that Marci bent and gave him a kiss on
the forehead and left the room. 'What an amazing woman,' Nick thought as he
sat for a moment, taking in what just happened. 'So confident, so self assured,
and so unbelievably gorgeous, what ever does she see in me?' he thought as he
set the shower to a good temperature. 'I mean, where does she come from?
She's suddenly appeared only a few days ago, but here we are naked in her bed
together talking as if we have known each other for years. I'm going to wake
up any time now and realise this is all a dream.' Suddenly, there was a tap on
the bathroom door that brought him back to reality. "Are you going to be much
longer? Your breakfast is ready." Marci's voice sounded muffled through the
door.

Nick turned off the water and replied, "Coming." "I'll leave you alone then, to
get dressed. I will be out in the kitchen when you are ready."

"Okay," Nick said loudly.

"So, feeling any better," Marci asked as Nick finally came out, dressed in the
clothes he wore to the interview. He didn't bother with the tie.

"Much better, thank you."

Then sit and eat, "Marci suggested as she put a plate of scrambled eggs and
toast on the table that although rather small, took up most of the space
available.

"Thank you, but you didn't need to go to all that trouble," Nick said as he sat
and tucked into the food. He hadn't realised how hungry he was until he
started eating. "Well, this is more brunch, than breakfast, Marci explained,
"seeing as it is 10:30 already." "Aren't you eating," Nick asked, as Marci
stood, drinking a cup of something, leaning against the cupboard that ran the
length of the room. "I ate while you were in the shower, "Marci explained.
You were in there so long I was almost ready to call the medics to come and
see if you were alright," she chuckled.

"Sorry, "Nick said apologetically. "I must have been off in my own little
world."

"No problem," Marci responded, "I just couldn't wait any longer. I usually

have breakfast at six o'clock, so I was getting rather hungry."

"Oh! So, I've upset your routine. Are you supposed to be somewhere, or
something?" "No, no. I am not working at the restaurant any more. It was
only a temporary job while one of the other women had a few days break. So,
I am free to do whatever I want."

"Oh. It was truly an amazing coincidence that you just happened to be
working at the restaurant when my family came to dinner the other evening."

"Well, you could say that, "Marci replied, “that is, if you believe in
coincidence."

"What do you mean?" "The truth is, I organised it so I would be working at the
restaurant when you came to dinner, because I knew if we were going to meet
at all, I had to be the one to make the first move."

“What do you mean?” Nick asked, becoming apprehensive. “What's going on
here? You seem to know an awful lot about me, yet we have only just
met.Who have you been talking to?”

“No one!” Marci replied, taken aback somewhat by the tone of Nick's voice.

“Well, how come you know so much about me?”

“I've been observing you for the past month,” Marci answered, quite
innocently, suddenly becoming aware that she was getting herself into an
awkward situation. The only way forward was to come clean.

“What do you mean 'observing'? Nick asked warily. “Have you been stalking
me?”

“I don't know what you mean,” Marci replied, starting to blush.

“You have been stalking me! It's written all over your face. Why?” Nick
challenged. “It's not as if I am famous, or rich. And I'm definitely no jock.”

“No, no. You have it all wrong. I am doing a detailed study of you for my
final assignment. We don't have any information about you, other than your
book, so I chose to get a feel for you as a person, rather than just your
writings.

“What on earth are you talking about? Whose 'we'? What book? You're getting
really strange.” Nick said, suddenly realising his only means of escape meant
he would have to get past this woman first.

“Okay, please, hear me out and it will all make sense,” Marci said, taking a
deep breath. If only she had taken heed of the Master's instructions “ I am
from a time...in the future, where our lives are quite different from yours. The

community I live in is based on a book that was/will be written by you.”

“You are now getting more than strange. In fact you are starting to scare me,”
Nick said, becoming quite alert to any chance to escape.

“Look, let me prove it to you,” Marci replied, trying desperately to retrieve a
worsening situation. “In the time I come from, some of us are able to increase
our energy vibrations and become invisible.” She suddenly disappeared before
Nick's eyes. Sensing an opportunity to get away, Nick stood and quickly made
for the door. Marci appeared, again, right in front of him.

“It's some sort of trick,” he said. “You've drugged me, or hypnotised me or
something to make me believe you can vanish and reappear at will. Yes, it all
makes sense, now. That's why I can't remember what happened last night, and
how I happened to wake up in your bed this morning.”

“But don't you see, it is how I have managed to observe you, undetected over
the past month.” As the words left her mouth, she realised they only made the
situation worse.

“All I want to see, right now, is that door open and me walking out of this
place with no injury, ” Nick countered. “And if you continue this unwanted
attention, I'll get a restraining order against you.” With that, he stepped around
Marci and took the three steps to his one point of escape, of freedom, of safety.

Opening the door he turned around to make sure she wasn't about to plunge a
knife into his back. Marci stood where she was when she 'reappeared'. She
hadn't even turned to face him. Nick closed the door behind him and made his
way down the stairs.

Totally distraught, Marci stood as if glued to the spot. Her mind raced as to
what to do next. 'There is only one thing left', she thought. “I'll go home and
tell the Master I have failed”





* * *



“So, that is my report, Master.” Marci finished. She took the glass of water
from the table and had a sip. She hadn't realised just how dry her mouth had
become. “And what have you learned from the experience?”, Joseph tested.
“I have learned not everything goes exactly as I plan it will,” she began
quietly. “I've learned we are only human and I sometimes expect too much of
other people. “I've learned that Universal Wisdom does not use only those
with advanced mental capacity, and, finally, I have learned something about

the life and times of Dr Nicholas Dean Walker, which, despite the way it came
out, was the purpose of the exercise”

A wry smile appeared on Joseph's face. “Then, in my assessment, you have
completed your final assignment. Congratulations, you are ready for
graduation.”

“But...” I know...You can't officially graduate until you are twenty. That gives
you almost five months free to do as you please. Do you have any ideas of
what you might do?” “Well...not really. This is all so sudden.”

“You could always go back and patch things up with Nick. I have a feeling
he's feeling pretty sheepish just at the moment. My only advice is to take what
you have learned from this experience and be a little more patient and a little
more gentle on him. I think you will find he will come around.”

As Marci left his office, Joseph pulled down the journal from the shelf above
the desk and turned to the very last page.

Journal Entry: 30h April in the year of Awakening 195

Received Marci's final report on her month observing Dr Walker. Things are
going just as I was advised they would. She has learned some valuable lessons
that will stand her in good stead when she returns to that time period. I have
every confidence she will adapt well and make a life partner worthy of the
man Dr Walker will become, with her at his side.

I will miss her.. .




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