The Sage of Aquarius

By Patrick Valentine

The Sage of Aquarius

This tale begins tomorrow. The over-populated and ravaged earth is gasping for breaths while corporations and criminals dominate the earths scant resources and its troubled humans. When a quirky prodigy builds a computer that communicates with the metaphysical realm he inadvertently sets a chain of corrective measures into motion. An improbable family of diverse renegades forms for a globe-wide race to escape a power-mad lunatic and their own dark pasts. Our survivors, guided by the planets, discover that love really does heal the past. Mother Nature, however, has her own agenda.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 19, 2007
• ISBN: 9781465333117

Patrick Valentine

Patrick Valentine had a multi-faceted upbringing in three exotic worlds, Tangiers, Morocco, San Francisco and Hawaii. Mentors in his life exposed him to a cornucopia of diverse knowledge. During his youth he discovered astrology. Skepticism drew him to debunk horoscopes as a worthless subject. Nevertheless, while exploring the inherent influences of the planets he became an enthusiastic disciple of the ancient system. Today he practices intuitive astrology. Patrick flaunts his joy of life by creating ‘outside’ art, and cooking. He resides in Four Corners New Mexico, with his partner and two dogs where he is building an earth-friendly life.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

It is tomorrow and nature is losing her grip. The earth struggles to sustain a back-breaking population of 9.3 billion humans all with voracious appetites for her scant remaining resources.

Global warming was worse than predicted forcing humans to retreat as the seas rose and submerged the coasts. Nearly exhausted crude oil required burning more coal generating toxic pollution. Industrial fumes choke the skies with ghostly ribbons of deadly particulates. Carbon dioxide trapped in the atmosphere raised the temperature of the globe. A major crisis occurred in 2010 during a flawed attempt to control the weather. Using HAARP, four huge irreparable holes were punched into the ionosphere and steadily admit deadly ultraviolet radiation.

Coastal cities on every continent and island are drowning. North Pole ice is totally gone as is most of Antarctica’s. The megalopolis of Los Angeles Diego, along with all other low-lying cities watched as their boulevards and plazas steadily submerged. London, Tokyo and Amsterdam sank. The River Seine swelled and carried artic surges deep into France inundating the Champs Elysee, Notre Dame and the Louvre. San Francisco, once a city of resplendent Victorian beauty and many graceful hills is a shadow of her former self, liquefied into an archipelago; a collection of small, fog-shrouded islands. After the 9.3 Great Quake the City by the Bay was renamed Frisco City.

Orwell’s 1984 vision of Big Brother has come and stayed. World government emerged to protect and defend the last contested oil fields to assure fuel for it’s corporate overseers. The once powerful United States of America government followed the former Soviet Union, collapsing under the weight of peak oil, it’s own corruption and massive fiscal extravagance. The Federated States, a hemispheric phoenix, rose from the ashes as both South and North America merged.

Spammers and hackers corrupted the Internet; they roamed it freely. The old Internet never knew with certainty who exactly sent anything to anyone. It evolved becoming Pan-Net. The first attempts to redesign the Internet was the Global Environment for Network known as GENI. The Europeans tried a design known as Future Internet Research and Experimentation, or FIRE. Princeton offered Planet Lab, and Carnegie Mellon a system called 100 x 100. Early projects like Internet 2 and National Lambda Rail focused on speed. Pan Net eventually won out and ran parallel with the old Internet, eventually replacing it. Pan Net uses virtualization, so multiple networks share the same pipes, making transitions easier for data packets and TCP/IP communication protocols. Sensors of all sorts are today Pan Net capable. The Pan Net is monitored by police who patrol the cyber spaces chasing down hackers and criminals. Computers require finger and iris print identification and have become virtual extensions of their operators

The great religions began dying off, losing relevance and crumbling into history. People searched for ‘grounding’ returning to Wicca and earth religions. Most people practice ‘spiritual’ materialism. Christianity collapsed after the Rapture failed to arrive as promised by fanatical evangelicals. Biblical dogma, centuries of mistruths and political extremism caused disoriented followers to flee, a few stubborn diehards cling hoping for the ‘return’ of the dream. The Catholic Church succumbed; financially and morally bankrupted by millions of abuse lawsuits and the defections by priests and nuns. The last Pope, Saturnius I eulogized the defunct church on Easter, following the liquidation auction of the last few remaining art treasures. Christianity is residue from of the Age of Pisces. Churches are skeletons of faith; long shadows cast from an age of spiritual dreamers.

Iron-fisted corporations rule since the takeover of the earth in World War III. After the war, corporations claimed imminent domain over all indebted people and the earth’s resources. mega corps arose by cannibalizing smaller corporations and nations. In 2007 corporate scientists genetically modified food grain to prevent it from reproducing after one crop. The mega corporations became the exclusive sources for seed. Farm giant Mon-Dan-Arch allied with Kraft-Santo, staged a ‘takeover’ war against the Svalbard International Seed Vault in Norway. Victorious, they confiscated and destroyed the natural crop seeds that had been stored there in vacuum-sealed foil bags beneath the permafrost to prevent future starvation. That final war gave control of all food to Mon-Dan-Arch. Food controls were created; hogs, cows, chickens and domesticated animals were patent protected. Meat is unavailable to the public. Renegades who challenged the corporate takeovers during the Great World Food Wars were disposed of. Fresh food is rare and expensive. Mega corporations control the essentials of life and have made every person subservient and dependent upon them for survival.

The world is dangerous. Human life is cheap. Homeless citizens face environmental hazards from heavy metal pollution and endless hunger. Brains are twisted by a corrupted environment. Happiness has been replaced by the daily struggle to remember how life used to be. Violence is commonplace. Terrorists and sociopaths freely roam the un-policed rural areas and urban ghettos. Desperate humans lurk and squat on abandoned property. They roam and kill to survive, for them life and death are synonymous.

As you descend into this inhospitable world you will join eight of its intrepid denizens; a diverse amalgamation of determined survivors. These down-to-earth souls glean existence, day-by-day from the rapidly receding terra firma. They seek love and shelter just off the main road to the end of the universe. They hold tickets for a peculiar performance, a surreal aria sung in the opera house karma. The performer is none other than the diva of evolution, Madame Gaia.

CHAPTER 1

Dirty Dancing

The panorama of deep Sierra gorges was magnificent, painted in verdant shades of evergreen. Their trip out of Frisco City to Black Rock, Nevada had been demanding but the drive over the mountains was invigorating and spectacular. They started days ago. Martha dug through the cluttered garage to free their trusty old car from mothballs. After many years of non-use Martha had to replace the battery, gas it up and get it running. Her next challenge had been to find then buy fuel ration coupons for the trip. Gasoline ration coupons were difficult to obtain without a ‘special needs’ ration card. They were available but outrageously overpriced on the street. Martha knew that for this trip they’d be worth every Eurogold she’d paid.

Once on the road there were several pontoon bridges that could only be crossed slowly. They drove from Portrero Isle to the Norcal mainland. After the two women finally crossed the long Orinda Wetlands Causeway, East of Berkley, they felt freedom. Seeing and smelling the scent of the Sierras justified all of Martha’s preparation efforts.

Their dull gray Pontiac sped over the highway, tires whirring rhythmically on the porous blacktop of Inter-land Eighty. Annual snow packs and heavy snow chain abuse had transformed the poorly maintained highway surface into a pockmarked corridor with infinite patches and cracks. Their speed caused car’s suspension to groan and squeak as they raced forward to their adventure.

Turn on the radio hon, Martha asked ‘Lissa; she did.

. . . and from Beth Markham in London this report. Today the World Governance’s Inter governmental Panel on Climate Change released its most emphatic report in the first week of July. This report confirms that the ages old ‘debate’ about global warming is over. Climate change has happened and burning fossil fuels is the primary cause. What’s really alarming is the delay to give credence to something that has created a large and wide impact on our bio-spherical home planet. There is no way to interpret this WGIPCC report without dreading the grim news of atmospheric temperatures rising 3.9 to 8.7 degrees Fahrenheit by 2100. Put on your sunscreen kids!

I guess we’re part to blame for that damage, I mean, for taking this trip, the older woman said.

I don’t want to hear about this now, Melissa shot back turning the dial until she found music. The radio soon churned out oldies from an Auburn station; the old tunes seemed a bit unnatural to Martha here among the tall forests. The retro tunes made the mountains seem inconsequential as ‘Lissa kept time mimicking silently to an old heavy metal tune.

The girls met two security check points, the first one at Auburn, slowed their trip slightly. After their domestic travel permits were authenticated they were moving again. Martha hadn’t missed any detail in making sure that everything would be perfect this weekend.

Melissa Rice was glad the security inspectors had been quick. She was pumped up with adrenalin that she would finally get to experience the famed Burning Man Festival in the Black Rock Desert. The Burning Man had been her obsessive dream since she’d first learned of it. Melissa was going to experience the party first-hand thanks to Martha, her lesbian lover. Martha Demeter took a few vacation days from her work as a Pan-Net investigator. She was happy that she and Melissa were going. Martha had been to Burning Man once before and would now get to compare the two events. Martha also had something special planned for ‘Lissa, as she affectionately called her younger girlfriend.

You know, Martha, Melissa said, Venus and Mars are both conjunct Uranus in Sagittarius this weekend; it’s a good omen for a party.

That’s all fine hon but you’ll need to tell me what it all means in plain English, she smiled thinking about ‘Lissa’s starry perspective.

It means that we’re going to have a fabulous weekend! Mars and Venus are all about love, and, sex. When they conjunct Uranus in Sag it all gets really crazy!

Crazy fun, I hope, Martha said maternally. You sure do love that ’strology don’t you hon. I never could figure that stuff out, it’s too overwhelming for me."

Astrology isn’t that hard to understand Martha. I mean, well, it’s a little challenging at first but it gets easier. It’s my spiritual skylight, into possibilities. I don’t want to miss any possibility in my life because I couldn’t see a door opening. I even saw this trip forming, as potential for something big to happen; and now it is! Like a happy child Melissa opened a bag with some sweets.

Well you explained almost all of it. Are you going tell me what Sagittarius stands for or do I have to guess? Martha asked inquisitively of her best friend.

Oh I’m sorry Martha. It stands for bigness, great big hopes and passionately happy energy.

Sounds like our weekend will be a total hoot, doesn’t it ‘Lissa? Martha said, savoring her special secret. She watched ahead as the highway snaked around the mountain; she put her hand on Melissa’s knee and squeezed it firmly.

Our costumes for the ‘Man’ are so wild. How’d you think of them Martha? I mean, for us to be TV sets? Melissa giggled innocently.

When I was a kid I was fed a steady diet of television, hon, did you ever hear of Sponge Bob, Queer as Folk or Ellen D.?

No, I haven’t, who were they? Melissa asked naively.

Those were the first gay themed television shows. Sponge Bob Square Pants was a gay kitchen sponge and Ellen Degeneres was the first openly gay lesbian television host.

That’s so crazy. Being gay is no big deal. You mean they actually made shows about being gay? she said in disbelief.

It was revolutionary then. People were ‘head-banged’ afraid of gays because of them ‘un-holy’ rollers brainwashing people back then. One day the light of understanding went on; closets across the world opened wide. It was a great liberation for so many gay people.

Closets opened? Lights went on? What do you mean Martha?

Martha replied, It’s nothing hon, hey, what about our costumes?

I can’t wait to be a lesbian on TV. It was fun decorating our costumes, making them look like old televisions. They’ll be funny to wear. We’ll look out of fake screens, from behind plastic sheets. People will think we’re really on TV, Melissa chirped.

"Those plastic screens might end up becoming dust shields for our eyes. It was really windy at Black Rock the last time I went to the ‘Man’. Martha observed that ‘Lissa was bubbling with anticipation.

Imagine Martha, tomorrow we’ll be running around with our tits painted silver and no one will stop us. Melissa fell into a day-dream as the two lovers flew over the alpine highway.

Look ‘Lissa, over there, Martha announced, pointing her finger out Melissa’s window, there’s Lake Tahoe." The women spied the vast blue lake through the Ponderosas. They drove on through Reno, north to their remote desert destination.

The Pontiac pulled up at the Black Rock entry gate in the late afternoon. Martha surrendered their two prized ‘Man’ tickets to the gate boy who waved them in. Their next task was to find a good spot to set up their camp. They drove slowly around the site. There were easily five thousand vehicles inside and probably more coming.

After almost a hour of cruising through the well-planned maze of vehicles and strange art installations Melissa saw a brightly painted trailer with a huge tribal drum painted on the side; it caught her eye. Her heart raced as she spied some men dancing and waving long poles with colored feather streamers while others drummed. It looked to her like the perfect place to camp.

Martha, she yelped, Stop here! Let’s camp near those magnificent dancers. I adore dancers, we’ll have fun here Martha.

Martha eyed the group of nude, body-painted men as they moved rhythmically to loud, tribal rhythms. Martha didn’t favor this spot. Regardless she reluctantly pulled in and parked the car turning off the old sedan. After all, Martha thought, this is Melissa’s first time.

Martha loved Melissa, more, than anyone that she’d ever known. She was fourteen years senior, more old fashioned, definitely more mature than Melissa. She was very comfortable being the bread-winner and supporter of her jewel, her lover and most excellent friend. Martha wanted the Burning Man weekend to bond them closer than they already were; she planned to propose and then marry Melissa during this Burning Man! Martha envisioned the huge burning man effigy as a sacred symbol of their loving lesbian relationship, and for her, a symbolic end to her own stoicism.

This antique Coleman stove belonged to my great grandfather, Martha said. I remember this tandem sleep sack too. Ooh honey, I was a very a naughty girl that summer ‘Lissa. Martha pushed the bag neatly into the small red nylon tent. Two thick foam sheets would cushion the hard clay on their desert ‘love nest.’

Is there a story about this two-tone chest? Melissa teased. An old chest held their vegetarian foods. What can you tell me about this rusty, battle-worn relic?" she laughed as Martha gave her a suspicious eyeing.

Careful hon, that one’s got the good stuff. Handle it carefully. Martha referred to the dozen bottles of Reign Dei she’d packed well in crushed ice. The frosted pink bottles sported an flying triangle embossed in the glass. Reign Dei was the favored beverage in the lesbian community; it contained alcohol, cocaine and trace amounts of ecstasy flavored like cherries and bananas. The drugs in the beverage were legal in Nevada and Norcal, a nation once known as Northern California.

After the friends finished setting up their modest camp. They strolled around the other groups around the looking at the sights and the other intriguing ‘burners’. Melissa nearly pulled Martha’s arm out of its socket as she tugged her around. Tomorrow they would transform themselves into television sets. It was nearly dark when they returned to their camp.

The glow of thousands of fires across the flat desert radiated a orange luminescence into the crisp night air. The two girl lovers shared a multi-grain sandwich with tomatoes, sprouts and goat cheese. The fresh ingredients had cost a full day’s wages. Martha tried to nap; futilely. Melissa was preparing to implode from an endless wellspring of excitement. She wanted to play and begged Martha to wake up and play with her. While Martha napped Melissa met the dancers finagling an invitation to dance and party with them later.

The women danced. The night spiraled on feverishly. Melissa danced wildly as if there might never be chance to dance again. Martha took several ‘old age’ rest breaks. Eventually the beating drum rhythms hypnotized Martha, lulling her into the arms of the sand man. The long drive of the morning had sapped her energy; she went down for the count.

It was after eleven when Martha passed out. She lounged on a huge pile of fat cushions stacked carelessly near the dancer’s trailer. The half-full bottle of Reign Dei that she’d been nursing for an hour fell from her fingers and rolled under the trailer leaking its warm contents onto the hard Black Rock clay. Melissa looked over and saw Martha sleeping and smiled. Sweating with an oily glow Melissa continued to jump and dance with the men and some bare breasted women who joined them to dance. Melissa began to trance; almost like a shaman performing centuries-old rituals to summon ancestor spirits; she danced on.

Melissa felt the Reign Deis working on her brain. She was having the pleasurable and customary blurring of reality. She stopped dancing to rest. The moon, when she looked up, was half-full and glowing in many colors, it was late. A large warm comforting hand clutched hers from behind and pulled her into the dark behind the trailers. A friendly-sounding voice entered her ears mumbling, Eaaaott this baaaby, eet’s reeeal guuud, tryyyiiiit.

Melissa felt a finger force its way deep into her mouth, sliding over her tongue towards her throat. She was too high to think of biting down on the object as it pushed, dryly, beyond her teeth. She gagged. Stomach acid pumped up her esophagus. Melissa swallowed the burning fluid, choking and waving her arm in protest at the shadowy figure who urged her to sit down. She felt a strong embrace then a tongue pushed in to explore her mouth. She relaxed, her tension eased upon feeling the wet oral intruder. Lissa was stoned and clueless about what had just happened. She offered no resistance and, with her head spinning, dropped to ground. The rest of the evening went blank. Melissa, tonight, would fail to pen one word of a mental postcard that she had hoped to write about her first Burning Man Festival.

Melissa woke with a throbbing head. A pasty metallic taste covered her parched tongue that was stuck to the roof of her mouth. The sun had reached mid-heaven and was glaring down at her. Martha was humming and was happily cooking something just outside the tent. She heard Melissa groaning faintly.

So, you’re finally awake sweetie. The words floated sweetly into Melissa’s ear. Martha’s voice, words and culinary sounds were reassuring to weak and groggy Melissa.

Quite a night little girl, Martha chimed. You must be aching all over. Those crazy dancing feet of yours sure worked out last night! There was no answer from the tent. Hey, are you okay hon?

Melissa groaned again finally rolling out of the tent into the bright sunlight.

Martha smiled. I made ginger-honey soup, sweetie. It’ll help settle that Reign Dei ‘Deing-over. Martha’s laugh eased the severe aching that Melissa, now fully awake, felt throughout her slender and pitifully abused body.

Hey Lissa, Martha inquired, do you know who put us to bed last night? Some kind soul took pity on us and hauled our sorry asses over and tucked us both in together. Weren’t they sweet? You did pick us a great camp site ‘Lissa. I like them dancing fools baby-cakes.

Melissa slurped up the soft tofu cubes and tender cooked sprouts. Martha had lovingly cooked up this ‘cure’ in her small cast iron cauldron. The ginger in the soup would help knock out the horrible nausea that wracked her entire body. Melissa didn’t say anything as she sipped the healthful broth. She looked into Martha’s face occasionally, like a naughty puppy.

You are one loveable mess honey, Martha chirped affectionately. Let’s get ourselves washed up. You’ll feel a whole lot better after you wash off the dust and damage from last night.

Melissa couldn’t finish her soup. Her head pounded and she was vapid. Wobbling, she followed Martha to the trunk of the Pontiac where their bathing gear was stashed. They did feel better after the grime from the first night at Black Rock was washed away. The two friends spent the rest of the Saturday napping together, half-sleeping, in the small red fabric hotel suite. Martha smiled as she listened to Melissa’s soft rolling snores and decided that they would take it a lot easier tonight.

The girls also took Saturday night at the Burning Man easy. On Sunday morning Melissa was her bright self. Over a cup of strong coffee Martha proposed marriage to Melissa who happily accepted her offer. After a breakfast of fruit and tempeh Martha called Reverend Loving. Martha had pre-arranged for Angel Loving to marry them knowing that Melissa would accept. Reverend Loving was also at Burning Man; she was browsing the crafts arcade when she got Martha’s promised call.

Reverend Loving arrived at the two giddy women’s campsite. She produced two fragrant green Laurel wreaths woven with blue tansy flowers and placed one wreath on each woman. A gathering of curious onlookers grew around the women. Standing together under the high desert sun in cool dry air, they watched more people come. With sixty or so onlookers from near-by encampments as witnesses, the two lovers tied their eternal knot. Melissa sniffled as Martha placed an antique gold ring on her finger and promised to have and hold her as long as they both lived. The ‘Burners’ cheered as the two women kissed and sealed their union as soul mates under the watchful eyes of their Goddesses.

After sundown the newly-weds walked across the festival flats to the tall Burning Man effigy. They sat together on pillows and waited for its ignition. They had a great vantage point one-hundred meters away. Martha’s arm was firmly locked around Melissa’s lean waist.

Are you cold ‘Lissa? Martha inquired.

No, Martha, I’m am just right here with you tonight, Melissa cooed.

The huge effigy of the Man was at last set ablaze. A deafening roar slowly rose from the thousands of revelers. Music from Heavy Pink Radium blared through the evening air from twenty massive speakers. Melissa sat in between Martha’s legs on the desert floor. Martha hugged her tightly. ‘Lissa’s head gently leaned back against Martha’s bosom. They watched as brilliantly exploding yellow flames climbed up the huge Man’s framework and leapt into the heavens. Melissa glanced over her shoulder and saw flames reflected in Martha’s eyes. Her mental postcard was being completed tonight with the ‘penning’ of two events, the Man Festival and their wedding. Melissa suspected her life would never be the same again. The burning effigy sent roaring flames 50 meters into the cool indigo sky. Crimson and gold embers danced skyward mingled smoke joining billions of stars that Melissa knew held all the secrets of the universe.

Monday arrived. Martha and Melissa inched out of the desert in their trusty Bonneville. They patiently navigated the snarl exiting from the desert. The traffic didn’t bother either woman, they chewed on the last of their rare raw cashews and sipped mineral water.

In Melissa’s estimation the ride home would be over too soon. She realized that Martha returned to work at Cyber Patrol tomorrow. Burning Man would then begin to fade into memory. She sat with her face pressed against the cold glass window, quietly transfixed, watching hundreds of unlighted neon signs whiz by as Martha sped down the interstate through Reno to Frisco City.

Martha heard the familiar sound of keys rattling in the front door of their historic Queen Anne flat.

Oh Goddess! Oh my good Goddess! Martha, Martha! You won’t believe this!

Melissa was hysterical as she blew through the door into the small apartment. I’m pregnant! I’m pregnant! I am really pregnant. I’m going to have baby!

Martha was bewildered by the words she heard bellowing from her partner’s lips.

‘How on earth? Holy moth . . . . ! Oh my, my. How on earth? When did you . . . uh . . . ?" Martha was unusually speechless. The two stunned women fell down together into the fat overstuffed couch. They sat staring at the self-pregnancy test that Lissa held in her jittering fingers.

Melissa baby, I’m so . . . . How on earth . . . ? Let me see that test, hon.

Melissa interrupted, sensing where Martha was headed with her question.

I don’t know Martha, I just don’t know! She began to sniffle. That explains why I have been so sick every morning. Martha leaned over and embraced her. I think this might have happened at Black Rock.

It’ll be okay hon. We’ll figure this out. Yeah, we’ll figure this out. Let me think for a second. Yes, Martha mumbled, just let me think this through for a bit.

Martha and Melissa thought