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Pilgrims’ Passage: Rebuilding the Past
Pilgrims’ Passage: Rebuilding the Past
Pilgrims’ Passage: Rebuilding the Past
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Pilgrims’ Passage: Rebuilding the Past

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Why does Pilgrims’ Passage matter?
Why can greed and deceit still manipulate us?
Why do people choose power over family?

Working to address these questions and more, Pilgrims Passage: Rebuilding the Past is a journey brimming with adventures through turbulent times during the transition into the twenty-first century.
For Paul Bardeck and Claudia Weiss, discovering a thousand-year-old monk’s journal fuels their quest to rebuild a mysterious ancient monastery perched upon the foothills in the Slovakian High Tatras, with the promise of releasing boundless energy stored within ancient ruins, as well as the Book of ONE.

Concurrently, Karl Vloda’s seemingly unquenchable thirst for wealth and power, fueled by the Black Star Pact’s dark energy, seems to make the quest for ancient truths a sideshow.

As the pilgrims’ paths entangle, will the promise of timely truths finally come to light? Does standing against the powers of darkness really matter today?
LanguageEnglish
PublisherXlibris US
Release dateJul 25, 2022
ISBN9781669822134
Pilgrims’ Passage: Rebuilding the Past
Author

Joe Buda

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    Pilgrims’ Passage - Joe Buda

    Copyright © 2022 by Joe Buda.

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

    This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

    Rev. date: 07/22/2022

    Xlibris

    844-714-8691

    www.Xlibris.com

    725062

    DEDICATION

    This, book is dedicated to my loving wife, Linda, our children, Joseph and Meg and our grandchildren, Maeve and Eleanor. Also, to Anna Lobo Buda and Janice Walsh Moran who modeled: unconditional love, unconditional compassion and unconditional forgiveness. Their stubborn persistence to hold on to their fundamental beliefs have made them role models for those lucky enough to know them.

    Finally, it is dedicated to those who search for meaning in this world. A world where power and greed have captured the spotlight; leaving the path to personal fulfillment, spiritual growth, and seeing the world as one for the truly brave of heart. To these pilgrims into this millennium: I applaud your perseverance and hope that this book will help make your path a little brighter.

    SPECIAL THANKS

    A special thanks is given to Donald Buda, who patiently helped edit this book from its early stages right up to its completion.

    CONTENTS

    Dedication

    Author’s Note

    Chapter 1     California Caper

    Chapter 2     Pawn’s Survival

    Chapter 3     Asia Bound

    Chapter 4     Dinner Quest

    Chapter 5       Forbidden Fruit

    Chapter 6     Summer Break

    Chapter 7     Dream Quest

    Chapter 8     Night Serpent

    Chapter 9     Shoulder Tap

    Chapter 10   Jogging Fever

    Chapter 11   Event Star

    Chapter 12   Emotional Mixer

    Chapter 13   Sky Call

    Chapter 14   Carver Art

    Chapter 15   Enabled Disabling

    Chapter 16   Unwanted Truths

    Chapter 17   Shifting Priorities

    Chapter 18   Veneered Reality

    Chapter 19   Lightning Rod

    Chapter 20   Thin Air

    Chapter 21   Pawn’s Move

    Chapter 22   Restricted Reading

    Chapter 23   Fourteen Days

    Chapter 24   Brave Defenders

    Chapter 25   Icon Collision

    Chapter 26   Dream World

    Chapter 27   Selective Truth

    Chapter 28   Return Visit

    Chapter 29   Manny’s Return

    Chapter 30   Innovation Test

    Chapter 31   Home Stretch

    Chapter 32   Easy Listening

    Chapter 33   Return Call

    Chapter 34   Fast Pitch

    Chapter 35   Chosen Few

    Chapter 36   Rendezvous Zone

    Chapter 37   Sanctuary House

    Chapter 38   Visitor Prep

    Chapter 39   Magic Machine

    Chapter 40   Air Lift

    Chapter 41   Test Options

    Chapter 42   Test Results

    Chapter 43   News Flash

    Chapter 44   ONE Carver

    Chapter 45   Final Examination

    Chapter 46   Opening Service

    Chapter 47   Cool Reception

    Chapter 48   Wall Fly

    Chapter 49   Night Vision

    Chapter 50   Energy Clusters

    Chapter 51   Down Under

    Chapter 52   Bratislava Night

    Chapter 53   All Ears

    Chapter 54   Cave Quest

    Chapter 55   Polarizing Visions

    Chapter 56   Silent Sentinel

    Chapter 57   Formal Dining

    Chapter 58   Family Reunion

    Chapter 59   Disappearing Act

    Chapter 60   River Run

    Chapter 61   Passing Over

    Chapter 62   Solo Planning

    Chapter 63   Burial Flowers

    Chapter 64   Formal Transfer

    Chapter 65   Rock Steady

    About the Author

    AUTHOR’S NOTE

    Pilgrims’ Passage Rebuilding the Past is a journey…

    through turbulent times, within a world transitioning from the twentieth to the twenty-first century, a time when wealth and power seemed to take center stage, where spiritual fulfillment and the quest for truth becomes a sideshow. A time of disenchantment for some yet a time of hope and optimism for others. A time when walls crumbled and others were planning to be built.

    The pilgrimage through life places one spotlight on those whose thirst for wealth and power seems unquenchable while concurrently another spotlight is placed on those who pursue fulfillment and have a thirst for truth.

    As the pilgrims’ paths entangle, their journeys merge, afloat on the river of life and at times beyond.

    CHAPTER 1

    California Caper

    Paul waved to Claudia Weiss and her two children as they entered the shuttle bus to take them back home to Berkeley, on the other side of the San Francisco Bay.

    Call me when you get home, okay? yelled Paul Bardeck as they drove off. Claudia waved and nodded as they drove out of sight.

    I’m really going to miss her, thought Paul. I wish, they could . . .

    Paul’s thought was interrupted by the taxi driver who had just pulled up in front of him. Hey, do ya need a ride? Where do you want me to take you?

    San Carlos. Just south of here.

    Sure. Yea, I heard of the place! Where all those rich people live, right? replied the taxi driver sarcastically with a laugh.

    I guess there’s some there, replied Paul thoughtlessly as he slipped into the backseat of the yellow cab with his backpack and suitcase.

    So, mister, how was your trip?

    Good. Very good.

    So your family had to go somewhere else other than home with you, huh? added the taxi driver.

    No. No, they’re not my family. They’re—

    Sure. I see. Your sister and her kids, right?

    Well, no, actually—

    I’m sorry, mister, I was only trying to make small talk, ya’ know. Not trying to pry into your private life or anything like that. Let’s drop it, okay? So, mister, did you see the Giants last ball game? Did they cover it where you were?

    No, can’t say that I did.

    Let me tell yea, it was a real screamer . . . The driver then looked in the rearview mirror and smiled. Hey, aren’t you one of those heroes from that hijacked plane somewhere in Europe that I saw on the news? Around Paris, right?

    Yes, I was on that plane. But I did what anyone else in the same situation would have done. It was a friend of mine, Claudia, a professor at U. C. Berkley, the women that just waved to me, who volunteered both of us.

    No matter. From what I heard, your woman friend and you did just fine! You didn’t know who else was on that plane. You may not be here today talking to me if there was another hijacker in one of those back seats.

    Paul nodded. Thanks. I really tried to stay in the moment and do what needed to be done.

    Boy, I gotta say—that contractor who made that remote control system and all that other stuff with it must have thought that the hijacker was heaven sent, being that it was so close to being just installed and all. Yea, couldn’t have been better for them if it was planned that way!

    I would imagine so, replied Paul as he glanced at the driver’s rearview mirror and then at his picture, which looked like it was just taken as he was wearing the same plaid shirt he had on.

    The cabbie once again glanced into his rearview mirror. With all this fame you’ll now need to be careful, or some crackpot who wants to make a name for himself may start messing with you.

    Thanks for the advice. Yea, I guess you never do know, do you? replied Paul, who then directed the cabbie into the driveway of his home in San Carlos. As Paul observed the cabbie removing his luggage from the trunk, he involuntarily raised his eyebrows when he noticed what looked like a holster harness under the driver’s windbreaker.

    Paul then handed the cabbie a $50 bill for a $40 cab ride.

    Want change, mister? I understand if I set you off with all my questions and all.

    No, keep the change.

    The cabbie smiled as he put the bill in his shirt pocket and drove off.

    As Paul approached his front porch, he sensed something was wrong. Very wrong. I never close my front blinds, he thought as he put his key into the deadbolt lock.

    I better go over and see if Bill’s home. He’s some kind of a security guy with some dot-com company, thought Paul as he withdrew the key from the lock.

    Bill answered the door after just two knocks. Hi, guy, or should I say Mister hero!, added Bill with a laugh as he shook Paul’s hand.

    Thanks, but I think I need you to come with me before I go into my house. Why? asked Bill, now with concern in his voice.

    Well, I think someone was in there since I’ve been gone.

    I thought you had a housekeeper who cleaned the place and kept an eye on the house for you?

    Yea, but for the last couple of weeks or so she wasn’t able to come over because she needed to return to Bolivia for her sister’s wedding.

    I see. So what’s wrong?

    The blinds are down and closed. She never would leave them that way. Okay. Let’s go over and see what’s up.

    The two made their way over to Paul’s house, and as Paul turned the key and opened the door slowly, he was shocked to see that his living room had been ransacked.

    Not again! he moaned as he shook his head and slowly entered his living room.

    Wow, what a mess, mumbled Bill as he kicked away a ripped sofa cushion from his path.

    Paul walked into his den to see the room in even worse condition than his living room. His thoughts then suddenly shifted to Karen, and how they met under the same conditions. I cant believe she’s gone . . .

    Paul! Hey, Paul! Checkin, Paul! So whoever they were, this time they were looking for something that they thought was well hidden and not lying around on your coffee table. Any ideas what they could have been looking for? asked Bill as he picked up a binder from the floor and started to flip through it.

    Sorry ... I better call the police and see if they can lift any prints, replied Paul in a frustrated tone as he took his cell phone out of his pocket and hit 911.

    It was less than five minutes before the San Carlos Police knocked on the front door of Paul’s home. So did they get what they were looking for? asked the older of the two police officers.

    Paul paused before responding. I’m ... I’m not sure. I need to check a few places ... So you think they were looking for something specific?

    I’m nearly positive, noted the gray-haired police sergeant as he walked through the den and then into Paul’s office that was located in the back end of the long and narrow ranch-style house.

    Paul looked at Bill and then thanked him for coming into the house with him. Bill was quick on the uptake in noting by Paul’s tone of voice and body language that it was time for him to leave, as Paul wanted to speak to the police privately.

    So I’m going to head back over to my house now, but if you need anything, just stop over or give me a ring. Okay?

    Sure, Bill. Thanks again. I’ll keep in touch now that I’m back for a while. As soon as Bill exited, Paul went into his backyard and entered the small cottage located at the back end of his property. The cottage was also in shambles, but Paul hardly noticed. He headed directly to a corner of his workshop, where there was a heavy antique tool chest with the name W. T. Downing neatly printed in faded white paint on the front panel. Paul had purchased the old tool chest in the Gold Country near Angel’s Camp nearly five years earlier. The shop owner said that the chest was a fine example of the kind carpenters used during the Gold Rush. The shop owner went on to explain to Paul that these carpenters would go from town to town and build anything from saloons to chapels for the onslaught of people entering the Low Sierra mountains in search of their fortunes. The antique dealer noted with pride that he was a direct descendant of one of those artisans who worked with wood.

    Paul scanned the old tools thrown around the workshop that were from the now opened tool chest. He then proceeded to reach inside and pulled out a plough plane that was buried near the bottom of the chest. Seeing that the tool was intact, Paul gave a sigh of relief. He then proceeded to tap out the wooden wedge that held the blade in place and then carefully removed the sharp steel blade from the plane’s body. He then gently tapped the side of the wooden plane and out slid a memory stick from a neatly drilled hole in the inside of the plane, a hole that he painstakingly drilled by hand nearly three months earlier. It’s amazing what can fit on a memory stick these days, mumbled Paul as he reassembled the plane, leaving the memory stick inside its secret hiding place.

    When reentering the house, Paul found one policeman on the phone requesting a dusting of the house while the younger of the two was in the garage, checking out Paul’s pristine 1960 Austin Healey 3000 BN7 two-seater convertible.

    Sweet, noted the young police officer with a laugh. I was glad to see whoever did this didn’t decide to trash your car too, added the officer as he directed his flashlight into the far corner of the garage.

    I guess it looks like whoever did this didn’t bother looking in the garage, noted Paul from the doorway.

    Looks like someone may have interrupted their search, came a voice from behind Paul.

    Paul turned around and saw the older officer behind him. Why do you say that?

    Well, first thing is they did a real good job ripping apart your den, living room, office, and back cottage, but they stopped there. If they were doing such a thorough job, they would have done the same to the rest of the house—unless they found what they were looking for, that is.

    Paul nodded in the direction of the older officer. They did go into the cottage at the back, but you’re right, they didn’t make much of a mess.

    So are any of your valuables missing?

    No. My vintage stereo equipment and TV look okay, and I put my watch and all that type of stuff in my safe-deposit box before I left for Europe, so I can’t think of anything else they would find interesting, replied Paul as he opened up the top dresser drawer and scanned its contents.

    The guy to check for prints should be over within a few hours, so please don’t touch anything. Stick around the house, and if you do find anything missing, just give us a call. Hey, by the way, weren’t you at the funeral of one of our officers not too long ago?

    Yea, I was there. It was a real tragedy. Karen Sanchez was a real good person.

    Did you know officer Sanchez well? asked the officer in an almost official tone.

    No. I wish I got to know her better, though. I just met her a short time before—

    Paul’s response was interrupted by a call on the officer’s radio. After finishing the call, the officer placed his radio back in its holster and casually turned to Paul. The detective that is on the Officer Sanchez case was planning to stop over to see you. Since I’m already here, he asked me to ask you if Officer Sanchez, at any time, left anything over your house.

    Paul was taken aback by the officer’s questions. I ... I don’t think so . . . no. I’m not aware of her leaving anything over here. Does your question have anything to do with this break-in? Her death?

    I honestly don’t know, sir. Do you think it does?

    Paul was still raddled by the officer’s first question. "No. I don’t believe she left anything over my house, but if I do find something that I think was hers, I’ll contact you. Okay?"

    Yes. Please contact me immediately . . . Before finishing his remark, another call came on the officer’s radio. We have another call, sir. Don’t touch anything until after the housed is dusted for prints.

    Will do. Thanks for your help, Officers.

    As soon as the officers left, Paul walked from room to room looking to see where Karen could have possibly hidden something—something that Paul had no idea of what it looked like or even its size. As Paul scanned the bookcases in his living room, his eyes rested on a twelve-inch-long scale model of his 1960 Austin Healey 3000. As he opened the engine compartment of the metal model that sat on the top shelf, Paul’s mind flashed back to his conversation with Karen about the engines that ran a large city. His hand instantly felt what seemed like the shape of a memory stick that was wedged between the wheel well and the engine of the model. As Paul removed the object from its hiding place, he then examined the narrow black memory stick. He decided that he would not chance opening its content on his personal PC, as it may be bugged, but instead would either go to an Internet cafe or purchase a low-end laptop and then permanently disable all Internet connections. While sitting on the sofa clutching on to Karen’s hidden gift, tears streamed down his face as he flashed back to their run on the beach and their cryptic conversation on big cities.

    What was Karen going to tell me the next time we were to be together? What was so important that it cost her. . . her life? Should I just turn it over to the local police or go through the files first? he thought as another dozen questions followed that he knew he needed to answer.

    Paul decided that it was best to go out and purchase a laptop, but just as he was about to drive out of his driveway, he realized that he had disabled all Internet connections from his previous laptop, which was stored in his cottage. After retrieving the laptop, he placed it on his workbench in his cottage, as to not disturb the lifting of fingerprints within his house. Perfect! Absolutely perfect! he thought as he booted up the machine and inserted the memory stick into the one UBS port on the back of the laptop.

    Paul found that there was only one file folder on the stick, which was labeled Engines KSA, he pressed the enter button, again, only one file appeared that was marked Engines LA. As he moved the arrow on the file and then tapped on the mouse, he took a deep breath. As he exhaled, a PowerPoint slide that looked like a multicolored wiring diagram or a map of an underground subway system filled the screen. Paul identified six distinct colors in the primary lines, as well as shades of each of these colors also present in the much thinner lines that often intersected with thick or thin lines of other colors.

    As Paul put the slides in presentation mode, he viewed a slide for each of the six colors that provided detailed information on the organization it represented, as well as names of key players within that organization or group of individuals. He could see that each of the engines that Karen’s grandfather, a retired LAPD captain, spoke of were represented by a color. Other slides showed the color lines intersecting and then breaking away before reconnecting at another point once again. Each of these slides was given a title that referred to a major event in history. These events were then represented by a star that was placed in the center of each slide with a series of multicolored lines periodically intersecting with one another before and after the star.

    One of the slides that caught Paul’s interest was labeled RFK LA. As he scanned the slide, he noticed in the lower right-hand corner a box that noted Karen’s grandfather as the author of the slide and that this diagram was copied from an original hand drawing. He was not surprised to see her grandfather’s name as Karen had noted his interest in the various engines within LA. However, as he continued through the slides of more recent events, he was surprised that Karen’s name was listed as the author. Paul’s minds whirled as he went through each of the slides listing a number of cases that he had recognized from both watching the news and from reading in the newspapers. This is absolutely incredible. Karen and her grandfather mapped more than a dozen events, with all but two occurring in LA—one in Dallas and the other in New York, he thought as he ended his review of the slides.

    Sitting at his workbench for more than an hour, Paul tried to absorb what he had just seen. Tears began to stream down his eyes as he thought of Karen being gone. This is incredible, he thought. Karen and her grandfather mapped out in a simple, straightforward way major occurrences that happened, showing all the interconnectivity of seemingly unrelated groups of people and organizations. I never, in a million years, would have made those connections. I’ve watched the TV shows and read the books, but this gives the precise names, dates, and reasons as to why the interconnectivity occurred caused the outcomes listed in the title of each slide.

    Paul was just about to download the file on to his hard drive when he noticed that there was indeed another file, but this one was a Word document. I hope Karen left a note . . . Just as he tapped the mouse, a Word document in a letter format appeared.

    Dear Paul,

    I know we just met, but I have nowhere else to turn. Within the short time we were together, your integrity became clear to me. Perhaps you have already reviewed the PowerPoint file on this memory stick, which I believe you will find most interesting as well as disturbing.

    While serving on the LAPD as a captain, my grandfather started this mapping process on major cases that were either unsolved or controversial. This method of mapping the various people and organizations influencing various cases helped him visualize not just who was involved in the case but also why and what their motive could be. As you can see, some of these cases are not just local to LA, and these, I’m sure, you will find most disturbing of all.

    Now that you realize the power of the work that you just reviewed, I sense that you already have pondered over what to do next. On each slide, there is a box that lists all the dates and other information listed and tells you where that information is currently being held. As you can see, some of this information is in government locations while some is in the private sectors, including international locations.

    To my knowledge, I believe this type of mapping various people and organizations involved has not been interconnected like it is here by any other group or organization. This is where the power of these slides resides. To be honest, I do not know who can be trusted at this time, so you will need to follow your instincts (which are excellent!) when deciding to take your next steps. I wish I could be more helpful on what to do next.

    I believe by the time you read this letter, I will no longer be alive but have passed on. Please be assured that I will always be with you and guide you in any way I can. Again, I am sorry to bring you into this, but I truly had nowhere else to turn.

    Love,

    Karen

    After closing down his old Internet-free laptop, Paul decided to check his home computer to see if anyone was on while he was gone. His search showed that someone indeed gained access and downloaded everything from his hard drive onto some type of external bulk storage unit. Paul again took a sigh of relief and gave thanks that he kept no confidential files of his work on the hard drive at home. He then picked up the phone next to the PC to let Claudia know what happened.

    Claudia, my house has been ransacked. What’s happening at your end? Not much, replied Claudia with a trembling voice. How much of a mess did they make this time?

    Nothing that can’t be cleaned up. They were definitely looking for something specific, but I don’t think they found it—or at least what I would consider worth taking is still here, replied Paul as he tapped on the keys of his desktop computer. By the records on my PC, it looks like they were here at around 4:30 a.m. two days ago. I guess they got in while it was still dark and then left after everyone went to work.

    So what do you think they were after this time? asked Claudia as she instinctively scanned her living room to make sure nothing in her home was out of place.

    Not sure. Not even sure if this line is tapped, replied Paul, who suddenly realized that he no longer considered the place where he was now his home. It was a place where all his things and stuff were centralized, but beyond that, no, this was not where his heart was.

    Paul . . . Paul? Are you still on the line, Paul?

    Sorry, Claudia. I just realized something.

    What’s that?

    That this place I called home for so many years is now no more than a huge storage container full of stuff that used to mean something to me.

    Used to? But your whole life’s worth of memories is part of what you always referred to with a laugh as ‘home base.’

    Yea, I know, but now it suddenly struck me that I’ve switched to a different team. No, not just a different team but also a completely different game altogether.

    So what was the old game and what’s the new one? asked Claudia with a tremble in her voice, as she knew that Paul was somehow drifting away from her at this very moment.

    Paul paused for a moment before replying, I would have to say that the old game was like baseball. For what I look back at and see as my career, out here in California’s Silicon Valley, I was considered a pretty good player and was able to stay in the major leagues. I was well compensated for what I did—

    I would say so! interjected Claudia.

    Well, anyways, I was able to stay in the game. Even when my partners and I sold out our company eight months ago, I got a call just before I left to go to Europe to become another partner in a rising star . . . a surefire software concept.

    Is it really surefire?

    Yea, I would say so. I did a lot of research, and it looks really good and really solid as a concept. Now the technology and basic know-how is available to bring it from a great idea to an outstanding revolutionary product, whispered Paul.

    "I . . . I just had a thought, Paul. What if this line is tapped?"

    It’s okay. I’m talking now as if it is tapped and the person that is listening is probably bored out of their minds about this middle-aged guy’s epiphany.

    If you’re okay with it, then I’m okay, so please go on. I’m sorry I interrupted your flow. So it looks now like you’re not going to sign up for another baseball team I take it?

    Good guess! No, I’m going to call them today again and tell them that it sounds like a great offer and a really good idea, but now I’m switching games.

    So what’s the new game in town for you?

    I . . . I’m not sure what competitive sport’s analogy it is . . . Perhaps it’s more like archery.

    Archery? You don’t do archery, do you?

    We’re talking metaphorically here, Claudia, added Paul with a laugh. Sorry for breaking your flow. I was only giving you a hard time. So why is the new game more like archery? Wait. One question for clarification before you go on. Is this like competitive Olympic archery or more like the big-game hunter archery?

    It’s more like Olympic archery, Paul replied with a chuckle.

    How so? asked Claudia as her mind drifted for a second to the thought of her best friend and . . . leaving the San Francisco Bay Area and leaving her to . . .

    Yea, it’s like Olympic-level archery. A very serious game but a completely different set of skills and rules. I don’t even know if I have the skills to make it, but I know I need to try, whispered Paul as he drifted into his metaphor zone and saw himself with his bow drawn and arrow steady.

    So what’s the target?

    Paul took another long pause before responding, "For now, its rebuilding the old monastery in Slovakia and discovering its secrets. And spending time with our friend Manny. So much of Manny’s life was dedicated to rebuilding that old monastery. Being stationed at the abandoned monastery during World War II, when he was forced into joining the German war machine, then working to restore it, adds up to over seventy years. He gained such depth . . . such wisdom over those years. Sure, some would see him as being a little eccentric. Years spent rebuilding the monastery because he believes in its incredible power; in its energy to change the human condition. To be honest, Claudia, I feel like his apprentice and he’s the master craftsman.

    Master craftsman of what? He’s a master wine maker, right?

    Paul smirked, No. Not making wine. Even though that would be a great thing to learn. Of the balance . . . no, integration of the physical world with the spiritual side of life.

    What he calls spiritual energy, right? added Claudia as she reflected on Paul’s words and remembered many long animated conversations with their new friend, Manny.

    Right. With the help of that old monastery and the spirits residing in it, he somehow figured out what it stood for and how to align all four energies into an incredible power source ... a power source greater than, at least for me, somehow greater than E=MC², because it releases the energy of our total being . . . somehow releasing the total energy of the universe and placing it at our disposal to get to a greater common good ... a clearly recognized common good . . . enabling not just a few select intelligentsia or power brokers, but no, also everyone to be the best they can be . . . maybe even this world to be the best it can be.

    Wow, Paul! I haven’t thought about it that way. These are big thoughts, whispered Claudia.

    So my long answer to your short question, I guess, is to really figure out the formula that’s in Manny’s head, which he lives daily or what he refers to as the eternal now, which is also noted in the monk’s journal.

    I love that concept. Don’t you? interjected Claudia.

    "Yea, the eternal now sort of really resonates for me. When I look around this mess that’s now around me, I realize that all this stuff for me was somehow like an anchor that weighed me down and locked me into this port in San Francisco Bay."

    San Carlos isn’t such a shabby port now, is it? added his friend with a laugh as she was now working hard to hold back her tears.

    No. It’s a great port. A little shaky once and a while like today, but it’s been excellent for me in that part of my life that’s now behind me. But now it’s time to lift anchor and sail on.

    You’re really on a roll, Paul. Are you going to remember all this?

    Claudia, maybe I should just find the person who’s probably taping this conversation and ask him for a copy. What do you think?

    Claudia just laughed.

    So it looks like I have a lot of things to do to get ready for the move, Claudia.

    Where will you go? asked Claudia with a slight tinge of panic in her voice.

    After I settle my affairs here, I think I’m going to head back to Slovakia for a while to help rebuild the old monastery. Before you know it, you and the kids will be out of school, and we can link up again for the summer at the old monastery.

    ‘Settle my affairs. ’ What an interesting term he used, thought Claudia. I wish it was . . .

    Claudia, are you still there?

    Yea, Paul, it’s just that you’re moving a little fast for me. I need to digest all this. You know you’re my closest friend, and the thought of you moving out of this area—

    Don’t worry, Claudia. It’s not like I’m moving out of your life. It’s just that I can’t stay here anymore. This house, this lifestyle doesn’t work for me anymore. It’s time to move on.

    Move on, she thought. These words stuck in Claudia’s mind and haunted her for days to come.

    Okay, Paul, so you decided to move on and from me, I guess. I need to clean up this mess of laundry I’m looking at, get the kids ready for school on Monday, and then get ready for my classes too. Doesn’t quite sound as glamorous as your plans now, does it?

    I’m sorry, Claudia. I didn’t mean to make it sound like your—

    No, it’s not that. It’s just that it looks like everything is so clear in your head while my head is spinning—

    Again, sorry, Claudia. Is there anything I can do to help?

    No, you have your mess to clean up. Why don’t we just plan to get together soon? How would Sunday for dinner work? At my place? With the kids’ help, I should have all our bags unpacked and the laundry done by that time.

    Sounds good. But let’s just do takeout, okay? I don’t want you to bother cooking anything.

    Let’s see how things go, but thanks for setting such a low bar. See yea then. As Claudia hung up the phone, tears streamed from her eyes as she realized that her best friend, the love of her life, had decided without even discussing it with her that he was shutting down his home in California and moving on.

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    As they hung up, the uninvited third party on the call took off his headphones and then stopped the recording. I’m going to have to pick up my operations. It was so convenient having the home base right next to his house. Now what?

    Bill thought and then quickly picked up the phone and called headquarters to give them a full update.

    He’s not taking the job, stated Bill in an official tone of voice as soon as the other person picked up the phone on their side.

    He’s not? All this work to get early information on this new product, and now he’s not taking the job! yelled the woman on the other side of the phone. Is there another angle to follow, or do we need to pull up stakes and call it quits?

    I’ll e-mail you this last phone conversation. I think you’ll find it interesting, added Bill.

    Our friend, Paul, may have stumbled over something big while he was in Europe. We may want to keep tracking him and see where it goes. This may be worth big money—really big money—in the long run.

    We don’t have a long run, Bill! We get paid for home runs. It’s the information Bardeck would have had if he joined that dot-com company that would have put him in the inner circle. That would have been worth six digits, maybe even more. Let me listen to the tapes, and I’ll get back to you. For now, stick with Bardeck, noted the authoritative voice on the other end of the phone.

    Oh yea, it looks like he may be moving out of his house here in San Carlos, added Bill.

    Why?

    Someone ransacked his house looking for something. He came over to my house and had me go in with him after he suspected someone uninvited may have been in his house.

    Do you know who they were? What they were looking for?

    No to both questions, but if I find out, I’ll let you know ASAP, replied Bill as he started to prepare the e-mail with a file attached that contained Paul and Claudia’s phone

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