Explorer 467 incl. Geber

Der Fischfinder 467 bietet eine brillante und hochauflösende Farbanzeige, mit der Sie alle Details erkennen können. Die SBNII Echolot-Technologie verbessert zusätzlich die Darstellung der erfassten Signale auf der Anzeige. Bei dem Fischfinder Explorer 467 ist die Bootsgeschwindigkeit und eine Logge integriert. Die Installation ist sehr einfach. Die Anzeige müssen Sie nur an den im Lieferumfang befindlichen Geber und an die Spannungsversorgung anschließen. Schon kann es losgehen.

Von Jan Seemann

Á vísindavefnum fer Símon Jón Jóhannsson þjóðfræðingur út um víðan völl í útskýringum á tölunum 7, 9 og 13. Hvergi er þar reynt að útskýra hvers vegna tölurnar eru í þessari röð og hvers vegna þær eru allar oddatölur. Þar minnist hann auðvitað á að talan 13 er  óheillatala, en hvers vegna 13 lendir í 7 9 13, þegar fólk er að vona það besta, veldur honum engu hugarangri eða undrun.

Ég sé ekki að talan 13 komi þessu neitt við nema við slítum töluna 13 í 1 og 3 og sjáum að 1, 3, 7 og 9 eru allt oddatölur. Það vantar bara í rununa oddatöluna 5.

Athugum svo hvar tölurnar eru í frægasta galdraferhyrningi allra tíma og búum til sigil.

Þá fáum við Ýr rúnina (Ei/Ey). Miðstafur hennar fer niður úr 9 og ofan í 1 í gegnum töluna 5 sem er miðja alheimsins í þessu kerfi sem Arabíski Alkimestinn Geber hélt mikið uppá. Einhver er að segja okkur að hvers vegna að nefna 5 þegar hún er inni (falin) í þessar oddatölurunu.

11 er óþarft að nefna. Einn er kominn. 15 er summa ferhyrningsins í allar áttir og því er talnarunan stöðvuð áður en að henni kemur og hún ekki nefnd. Það er allur galdur ferhyrningsins.

Geber eða Jabir, hét fullu nafni Abu Musa Jābir ibn Hayyān al azdi (á arabísku: جابر بن حيان). Geber fæddist í Tus árið 721 og dó í Kúfu 815. Hann sagði að allt í heiminum hefði form tölunnar 17. Hæglega má finna töluna 17 í galdraferhyrningnum okkar með því að minka ferhyrninginn niður til vinstri og leggja tölurnar 3, 5, 8 og 1 saman. Frímúrarararnir hafa slegið eign sinni á ferhyrninginn allan eins og hann leggur sig og hafa gefið honum nafn eftir því. Þetta er sem sagt Galdraferhyrningur Frímúrarareglunnar.

Ýr rúnin er eins og öfug z sem er að falla á hliðina. S rúnin fellur í hina áttina. A.m.k. ef miðað er við hvernig nútíminn hefur staðlað áttir rúnanna. Kannski það sé bara tilviljun en hver veit: Á fyrstu öld fyrir Krist var Y bætt aftast við latínustafrófið til að gera mekingu gríska stafsins zeta nákvæmari sem áður var táknaður með S í upphafi orða og ss inni í orðum. Og ef Ýr er ekki hálfgert S þá veit ég ekki hvað.  Sigrún sé oss næst.

Hver veit hvers vegna hann er lesblindur, stafavírusinn sem lifað hefur góðu lífi í hugmyndaþróun mannskepnunnar nú um nokkurt skeið.

Rúðustrikuð hugsun okkar er grískt gatnakerfi í súluriti. Þaðan komust við ekki hvernig sem það er sveigt og beygt. Þú getur gengið um gamla kirkjugarðinn í Reykjavík og séð hvernig í  upphafi virðist enginn hafa kippt sér upp við það þó stígar hyrfu á milli leiða en því nær okkar tíma sem við nálgumst því beinni verða stígarnir og horn þeirra réttari. Nauðsyn brýtur lög en skipulagið blívur. Lífrænt lýðræði hopar eins og bráðnandi jöklar og einræðisleg fámennisstjórn gefur línuna. Er það gott eða slæmt? Álitsgjafarnir  eru  yfirstétt álitamálaheildsala. Hjá þeim er ekkert gefið. Til að umræðan hætti aldrei, sem er lykilatriði í svæfingunni, segja þeir að þetta sé bæði gott og slæmt og gott ef þeir hafa ekki gleymt  spurningunni. Hver voru aftur varnaðarorð Spenglers? Það er sóun á lífi manns að berjast fyrir deyjandi hefðum. Gakktu í lið með sigurvegaranum. Lýðræðishefðin er komin með alshæmer.

]]> http://busseyachtshop.wordpress.com/2009/09/09/tite-lok-geberstangen/ Wed, 09 Sep 2009 07:49:52 +0000 busseyachtshop http://busseyachtshop.wordpress.com/2009/09/09/tite-lok-geberstangen/

Tite-Lok Geberstangen

Portable Halterung für Echolot-Geber.
Die Geberstangen von Tite-Lok sind stufenlos höhenverstellbar, dreh- und schwenkbar.  Sie  sind aus Aluminium gefertigt und präzise verarbeitet.

Passende Adapter für die Geberstangen wären der TL-5707 und der TL-5781.

von Jessica Lenz

Antwort: Es gibt noch einige Ersatzteile für ältere Lowrance Geräte, wie z. B. Geber, Spannungskabel, Halterung und andere diverse Artikel. Wir haben dazu eine Übersicht zusammengestellt. Es kann sein dass einige Teile auslaufen oder eine längere Lieferzeit haben, viele Teile sind aber auch ab Lager lieferbar.

Von Jessica Lenz

Antwort: Es gibt noch einige Ersatzteile für ältere Eagle Geräte, wie z. B. Geber, Spannungskabel, Halterung und andere diverse Artikel.

Von Jessica Lenz

Antwort: Wenn Ihr Humminbird Smartcast Geber nicht mehr funktioniert, ist wahrscheinlich die eingebaute Batterie leer. Diese können Sie nicht austauschen. Die Batterie hält laut Hersteller ca. 500 Std im Wasser. Danach muss der Geber getauscht werden. Sie dürfen nur den orangen Geber in Europa verwenden. Einen neuen Geber bestellen Sie hier.

Haben Sie einen grünen Geber, ist dies die US-Version und darf hier in Europa wegen der Funk-Frequenzen nicht genutzt werden.

von Jessica Lenz

Antwort: Es gibt noch einige Ersatzteile für ältere Humminbird Geräte, wie z. B. Geber, Spannungskabel, Halterung und andere diverse Artikel.

Note: (This is a really big post I brought over from another blog – it kind of bugged out a little so if its a little off thats why)

Universal Surroundings: Alchemy & the Ego Death

By: Nathan J Scheer
Dedicated to my new friend Kylie ‘Third time’s a charm!’

-Rough Draft-

Alchemy is a process of true creation and destruction of death and life. Everyday every second behind us and ready to pass us is being created into something.  It’s being created by the winds and the mind of conscious sentient beings.  The greatness of alchemy is that it can create and destroy to build you anyway your mind can comprehend any design you wish can be yours in the mind and physical!

The ways of this magick is widely used but poorly understood to be something else then what it truly is, for those who do not known this magick create their lives using negative thoughts and action acting on stimulus response and hate, what this creates is a balance of energy that is mostly unfavorable to the consciousness of mankind. Letting those who control the worlds powers hold power over the magick of others.

Alchemy is a never ending magickal ritual of creation and destruction the rebirth from the fire into something more powerful that died. The Phoenix is examples of this but instead of seeing the physical die you see parts of your reality die parts of your mind die to make room for the new you, reborn.

….

My higher-self once explained this though a quote that I still carry with me today

‘As I walk this path, I die several times! As I walk this path I live forever with the sight of being that I wish to obtain. This path I have walked before and again I return to my standing evolutionary experiences! Here I start a new; here I see the world as one that has been reborn from fire. I am a alchemist and dying is my life governing experience of this world!’

Just as the death card in the several ongoing Tarot decks always go onto explain that it is not physical death it is inner death. But death is not a negative experience even when it is physical for we return to innocence and from our mental deaths there we recreate our conscious minds to expand again into the reality of the ‘real world’ to be reborn of fire.

….

I quote ‘Real World’ because in what we know we have just begun to touch what the physical world really is, it is a type of paranoia from the universal energies creating eyes and ears and mouths and bodies and minds to comprehend what else is a part of this realm of experiences. Our minds were created to communicate with our higher soul body for we exist in every plane that our soul is connected to (which is everything). Instead of looking at advancement as searching farther into the soul body and realm look at it like this, this realm of existence is the newest of our energy we are exploring and what this realm has to offer our expanding soul body.

We are all connected through this soul body every single being every single piece of existences has a thread connecting you to it. How? Because we we’re once those energies that exploded out from the first stars that created hydrogen then on to newer and more complex metals and gases like carbon. The pieces of existence through time gathered and created land mass and burning planets while rain storms and floods covered those worlds. The foaming seas began and the radiation from a ’sun’ star started to create amino acids the first existing form of life that has to eat to survive. From there it is history as usual but as these energies would advance on their evolutionary track the ‘Conscious Energy’ inside these creatures began to multiply and understand more and more.

The more they understood inside their variety of their instincts and program to heed in a new direction after they understood everything they could in the tiny amino body that lived in the ocean, it grew and understood it needed to grow to continue understanding this plane of existence thusly evolution took over and brought us to what we know them as ‘cave men’ (This is an entirely other story to be told another time) but as we look down this chain of reaction the energy that was created for these beings could have split into two pieces of a soul body to cover more ground, this is what I feel as what every element ever made into existence has done and so the soul as a element in itself expands and grows more dense as time goes on.

So what does this really mean about Alchemy? What does this have to do with the individual person? Everything! The individual person is a representation of what we see as their inner soul reflecting their light in the world. That person has been through billions of years of evolution of not only in the physical but in the mind of conscious projection. So now we are caught in a loop between several different path and realities of alchemy all of which have their place.

1.       There is the Alchemy of the Highest Soul (The energy that was and always is -otherwise sometimes called god-). This ongoing conscious awareness is the base of our alchemy structure for if it was not for this plane of soul existence then nothing would be… I say consciously aware because as we enter the higher self which is what this is, it shows us that this plane of existence is just another leap in evolution for the ever expanding mind. When we look down from our higher we do not see hate or struggle or fear we see a being entering into the worlds uncompromising up’s and down’s. When we die it’s not the end of our awareness for our awareness is forever and never ending no matter what happens in our life this time around (or anytime) and for that this Highest Soul of Alchemy is truly that! A Never ending life and life experience. The Greatest alchemical process ever created. The higher-self is nothing more than a connected part of yourself that has always been here from the beginning discovering more of itself in the psychical form by consciously expanding out our energy every time we recognize our true self and give time to who we truly are, and in this our vehicle of transportation this life this body has been created to be who you represent in the soul world in the real world.

2.        Mind Alchemy of the conscious thought provoking beings such as humans or other advanced life to achieve material possession or mental enlightenment through death of old habits and ways to create a new for bigger and better experiences of the world so that our evolutionary spirit grows as does the universe (The Golden Ratio found by the mathematical genius Fibonacci) <- Which Connects to All Substance of Alchemy.

3.       The Alchemy of the Ego our unconscious desires or even conscious desires that consist around the ego and the shadow inside all of us. This magick is automatic and unbeknownst to most of the population, we project what we wish to see manifested in the back our subconscious all throughout the day without knowledge of it doing so.  The higher self speaks to you in language that you understand that you are familiar with what you can logically understand. The higher self uses keywords that you would use in a conversation with a friend (or with yourself) and this is because it must act out from what you have taken time to internalize, the higher self can offer inspiring thought and action through a way that the bodies shell and energy can utilize and expand. The easiest way to communicate with a being that is new to its time is to trim the edges and simplify and so that’s how we create our dreams and reality. Of course bad traits can lead to bad manifestations of energy pull. The higher self is cut out at times and only ego benefitting thoughts pull through in distortion and thusly… we create our personality trait and battle.

Now from what we have so far is all based around attraction and we know that like attracts like and so as we ‘day dream’ throughout the day we create our future and our destinies. This magick of alchemy is a never ending process of elimination and growth.

4.       Elemental Alchemy, such proposed by the famous Alchemist Zosimus (250 AD born in Egypt) when he proposed the elements in the practice of Alchemy which of course also extended into earlier paganism and rose into Mr. Gardner new Pagan denomination – Wicca, this new religious section was based on the work of Mr. Gardner and Alcester Crowley  The Book of Shadows. The elementals being of course Fire, Water, Earth, and Air (Or as the Tao puts it Wood (extended goals), Fire (illumination of your soul), Earth (Communication of the Physical and Mental), Metal (Self-Discipline and Goals of the mind and physical) and Water (Your Subconscious thought!)  All basing around what we need to create new elements and conscious growth. The basic elements are what creates our existence thusly it would make sense to pull such powerful tools into Alchemy.

5.       Alchemy of the Philosophers’ Stone is a concept that has created many stories in the books of man, even Arthur and Merlin with the sword in the stone is an Alchemist story of mental growth and humility. The Philosophers’ Stone is of course the material that we hear can change Lead into Gold! This of course was brought about by the Famous Alchemist Geber (721-815AD born in what we call Iraq today).  Although this Stone was said to turn lead into gold it really was the mind and soul of the master which they were changing into gold. To create a higher existence for themselves and so this concept of Alchemy is widely used (And still misunderstood). Mr. Isaac Newton (Also a Famous Alchemist) was said to have created Lead into Gold. (Although he could have literally meant his mind and soul)

Merlin and Arthur

….

6.       Then we have Alchemy based around the teachings of Spgyrics and Tinctures presented by the famous alchemist Paracelsus who taught the uses of Plant based cures for disease, by taking the plant though the process of death and rebirth you can create a potion to cure disease or expand consciousness. By separating the Sulfur from the Salt of the plant by the use of Mercury  (Of course this represented by Sulfur being the ’soul of the plant’ the Salt being the ‘body of the plant’ and Mercury being the element represented by alcohol or any material used to separate the two. Then using the studies of the Stars and Zodiacal Degrees as well as planetary days for certain species of plants to increase potency) the alchemist creates a Tincture a powerful potion that has gone through the process of death and rebirth through the use of separation and then recombining the Sulfur of the plant so that the plant has grown in its existence to something even higher then it was before,  this being a very popular Alchemical say known as ‘Solve et Coagula‘ which can been seen on the famous picture of Baphomet the Half Man/Women with a goat head and legs. This saying (Solve et Coagula) is written on his arms Solve being in his right arm and Coagula written on his left arm (One of his arms is male the other female). What Solve et Coagula means is Separate to Recombined. (Die to be reborn – or Chaos and Order)

….

(Mudvanye has a song called Solve et Coagula) FYI—

These being just subsections to a bigger picture they are all correct in their own means and by just looking over them it’s all just the process of cleaning out the old to make way for the new, even if the new is worse than the old. That my friend is the foundation of Alchemy! Now since you have an idea of what Alchemy is (which in sense is everything) I’m going to share experiences and knowledge with you of separation from ego and body through the use of Alchemy as well as means to increase mental awareness through meditation with alchemy as well continued higher thought.

‘Awaken, dear friends, within this dream and realize that it is your duty and responsibility as human beings to imagine and visualize a safe world. It will be as you decree, and your own experience will thus reflect it‘ – Earth – Pleiadian Keys to the Living Library by: Barbara Marciniak

                Remember like attracts like.

                Before I continue on I want to stop and say that what you have happened to come across is nothing that is so far away that you cannot attain and internalize this knowledge for this knowledge is in the back of our soul always, even though I cannot say that I’ve learn all this from books or documentaries a lot of this information just is. By that you should know that what comes from your soul speaks the truth even if it’s you who benefits from those thoughts, you should always continue to grow your soul your spirit, mind and body as far as you can, this is a gift that keeps on giving, your life is more then what you think it is. You are here to change the course of history all you have to do is be open minded to what your ‘higher selves’ say to you in your mind. These are your aspiring thoughts! And by visualizing and listening you can change anything you wish to change you can move in any direction on the board and you can experience everything you need to this life time.

                We as a world cannot wait any long to transform this fear, hate, greed, suffering, hunger and war. We must use the elements that we have inside ourselves and bring out the best that is truly our reflection of the soul. TV and money some of the largest black magick spells ever casted upon mankind’s mind is corrupting and damaging our inner self’s to not speak to us in this life time.  Anytime in life you can turn off these beacons of distress and walk away from these spells you transmute into a new person. The human soul is longing for knowledge thusly the mind follows where it can learn. These black magick spells trap people in stasis their minds and bodies slowly decay and rot until the voice of their higher is so block that ignorance sets in and fear takes hold, fear of losing what they have in which in the time is not much.

                But they hold on to this feeling as if they were to let go they would die, and yes they would. Internally in the mind. But what we have learn is that death can make room for life and if we do not continue to grow and learn and experience, our life turns to the Depression Vortex and we slip into the wake of the waters that consist of our subconscious. By acting and failing you grow by acting and succeeding you grow. Every action has a re-action just as our famous alchemist said this is true the laws of inertia act in this way one must break their invisible chains and move!! Succeed in everything you do my friend fail many times change your perception to everything you know! Re-define yourself and others to what you think they are here to do. What are you here to do? Have you asked yourself that question and came up with an answer? If you have, do it again see if it has changed if not I highly recommend you to do so you might be surprised what you come up with.

Your task here is to learn your task, then do everything in your power to complete it or make an effort we are all here to assist each other but fake wars funded by the Illuminati will continue until mankind loses his will to fight each other. The sounds of the hippies are coming through yet again in this time, those demanding peace those who fight everyday to stop this corruption in the heart of man.   This is also your soul reaching out to protest pointless corruption and greed. We may live in the matrix of this connected age but we have our choices still and our choices make what we truly are in this world. Either good or bad the energies of the universe see this as a Yin and Yang forever complimenting good or evil these energies are sorted by their neutral degree. Neither good nor Evil mean a thing to the universe to us they mean the existence of peace/knowledge or war/fear.

                We are looking for negative information and stances, for the world is at its peak; we are at the peak of fear in the realm of our physical and even astral.  The basis of this is of course media and society reality acting upon stimulus response and those ‘the lambs’ follow where they are lead and their minds shut down to the pure social power of influence. So in these times begin to see what others do in times of fear, what do you do? How do you transmute your soul emotion into something higher, something grander and more potent than any fear can produce? These are question that you must leave in your mind to grow new thoughts so that you can eventually overcome fear and rejection of the world.

                You are a living being that has a choice! You can choose to become more then what society wants you to be! People will be threatened by your words and by your experiences but shall that move you from your path of knowledge and growth! It shall not. For you are just like me a being and traveler looking for the truth, a very interesting artist named Enya has made a very interesting song that relates to our continuing growth and that nothing is certain very symbolic this lady is very impressive.

The energy allows you to move to find your security but it allows change to affect everything you do to keep you moving, everything moves if you do not then you will tend to never grow any higher then you are now.  To grow is to die to die is to live and to live is to experience (grow) so that we can find death again and repeat the process.  For this process our spiritual mana increases with every passing day we experience life as a watcher. More and more we experience the more we can play the game, the game can be played in any style that you wish for neutral grounds stand on good and evil the energy passes as the day into the night! We in any way can stand for light and reveal nothing but darkness and in opposite truths. So with all this said I will reveal to you my Elixir of Ego Death.

                The process of creating these potions uses several types of alchemy that I went briefly into, the mind and the degrees of power of plants and family herbal down line with the studies of Paracelsus and the Spgyrics and Tinctures as well as meditation and energy transfer.  This process uses illegal ingredients (depending on how old you are maybe hard to obtain certain ingredients) but, this right here is your time to decide if society is influencing your knowledge on certain herbs that are not correct and it is your duty to understand more about what you are about to create and intake.

www.erowid.org search Thujune/Wormwood, Marijuana and Hops.

….

—

WARNING!

By undertaking this experiment you take on full responsibility for how you obtain and create your potions if any ill effects take place you again take full responsibility for your actions, if you have a history of liver disease or have an ulcer I would recommend take re-evaluate your position in health, even when you are healthy only take 2 shots of this potion every 3 – 4 months. This is not a potion that is something you will want to do everyday it’s very powerful and can put you into a coma like sleep for several hours after you release your energy. Your ego will either be completely taken down or most of it. I am not responsible for failed creations, so other than getting mad at me look at what you did wrong and learn from it, this is what I have been speaking about from the beginning.

Do an allergy test before you consume anything! You can do this by taking some substance and dabbing it on your skin, if it irritates do not consume! If nothing happens consume a very small amount and see, if nothing you can proceed to test your potion. Forewarning this potion will have been created with one of the bitterest plant known in existence. (Wormwood) I have other herbs that counteract this but it will be an unpleasant taste none the less. One more thing… If you do lose your ego do not fret once you come back to your ego, your shadow self will have told you that you are stupid and shouldn’t have done that, for you will do some random acts of kindness you would have never seen yourself do in fear of what others would think if you did them.

Be strong,

..
< A>

 (Flower of Life!)

                I’m going to suggest you start opening energy in your body before attempting to use this elixir your energy will be free flowing once you start to peak and this is the reason you may fall into a deep coma like sleep after you burn off your energy. Every time your energy is consumed by such a process it’s common to feel sleepy and tired. Last time I rose my Kundalini I had that problem too. So do not be afraid if you feel like you need to sleep do so because you’re going to do it where you’re at or on your bed. I will suggest void meditation as well as visual meditations for 30mins after 30mins of Hatha/ Vinyasa yoga everyday to help keep your flow active and open. If you’re blocked I would suggest Acupressure/Acupuncture or even get a 10-20 minute massage this can help relieve blocked pressures that build up in your physical from work or stress.

I hope you heed my warnings, for having a energy overload will kill your experience of the night with Ego Death and nothing will be accomplished. So without further ado…

You will need:

1. 160 proof Rum Called Stroh
2. Wormwood 1oz
3. Anise Seed 1/2oz
4. Coriander 1/2oz
5. Cardamom Pods 1/2oz
6. Catnip 1/8oz
7. Chronic or Swag 1/8oz
8. Peppermint 1/8oz
9. Dalmation Sage 1/8oz
10. Tinfoil
11. Empty glass bottle
12. A DIPA (Double India Pale Ale *For its Hop Content*)
13. Mortar and Pedestal (or coffee grinder)
14. Funnel (Paper works fine)
15. Coffee Filter and a plastic water sifter.
16. Tape Paper Scissors and Plastic Wrap (Natural)
17. Essential Peppermint Oil
18. Distilled Water

**Its best to spend as much time with the herb as possible this insures a good transmute of your energy into the herb –Be sure to be a pleasant mood-

1. Take your wormwood measure out 1oz (You may need to buy a scale which you can buy for 5$ at a head shop) grind it to powered and have your empty bottle available (GLASS!) take a piece of paper and funnel it into the bottle proceed to do this for every herb until you are finished

7. Take out your coffee Filter and plastic sift put the coffee filter inside the sift and pour the substance into the coffee filter letting it fill then drain. Make sure you get all the dried herbs out and wash the inside with distilled water (TAP WATER LEAVES HEAVY METAL BEHIND!!). I would suggest doing this process by yourself keep your mind healthy during this period if you’re having a bad that second Tuesday wait till the next Tuesday to finish bad energy will result in bad Alchemy. (Pour it into a glass pan that has been wiped down with distilled water)

8. After cleaning your bottle place your substance which should be clear of herbs small amounts of resin will be floating do not worry about this unless you are a perfectionist then you can out and buy libratory filters. If you are not going to drink it then I would suggest wrapping the bottle in tin foil again and placing it into the freezer.

(It’s up to you if you would like to increase your herbal family tree add blueberry leaf and raspberry leaf to your bottle (1/16th oz each))

—

I proceeded to tell them what I felt about each and every one of them, I was crying and very happy to know them and to feel the universal connection I have with them. I didn’t really know Kyle’s girlfriend very well but I was much honored to have her there and to experiences that night with her.

They all thought I was going insane but as how I am I do not just act like this when I get drunk this is the second time I have done this, this time being the most intense submerging into the higher-self last time I did not meditate but I still felt it.

I believe in yoga you can reach this point naturally but things like this in moderation you can also for a limited time feel this. At the moment I’m having a conflict with my shadow-self (lower-self) now that my mind has returned to its normal status.

It’s trying to make me feel embarrassed and that I was a fool for telling them all how much I loved them. But I don’t feel that although it feels like I could but I’m not letting myself and keeping my higher on the stand and pretty much telling my shadow self to just shut-up and except it.

That’s the story! Take it or leave it!

2. Fill the Bottle with your Alcohol, take the plastic wrap and wrap it over the top of the bottle, then seal the cap. **Your Elixir should not come into contact with metal of any kind during your process

Take Care,

Nate

PS. I wrote this last year in July for a friend that wanted to know the things I knew at the time what Alchemy is! Of course my understanding is further but The Ego death still works the information herein does work if you do it! Energy become more vivid and alive in everything! Sorry about the werid way its put out the add new post scirpt was bugging out when I was re-posting this!

“We’ll take the boxes out of the van. The girls can at least get out of the cold for the night.” Professor Scott directed as they entered the clearing where the vehicle was parked.

“But professor, we don’t even have any sleeping bags.” Cory protested, lifting a box from the van bed and setting it down just to the side of the wheel. “Can’t you call them to come and get us?”

“There’s no way they’d be able to find us in the dark. We’re just going to have to tough it out until dawn. There’s enough wood all around us to make a good fire. If we sleep in shifts, we should be able to keep it going all night.”

“If there are any empty boxes, we could break them up to lie on.” Gil offered. “At least it will keep us out of the wet leaves.”

“Good idea, Mr. Roche. Empty some of the boxes if you have to. We can pack them back up in the morning. I don’t want anyone catching pneumonia.”

“Won’t… that like, damage the bones?”

Professor Scott gave the girl a withering look of disbelief before slowly replying, “I hardly think a night in the leaves, where they have lain for untold years, is going to do any more damage to the bones, Ms Burroughs.”

“Oh… yeah, um… right.” She turned as red as her hair and crawled into the back of the van without further comment, making a show of moving boxes toward the open doors.

Professor Scott rolled his eyes. Even with extra credit earned by volunteering for this trip, she’d be lucky to pass her anthropology class. Few of the students were actually aware of what was really going on in the clearing only a few yards away. If they had any questions about why they were blowing up a cave surrounded by piles of bones in the middle of state forest lands, they had the good sense not to ask any questions. Most of them, like Ms Burroughs, were simply glad for the extra credit. They willingly played along with the scenario, perhaps believing it was all some kind of sociological experiment.

That was why he hoped Professor Jacoby was wrong about Gil. He was a smart boy with top grades. Unlike Cory who had been recruited by his uncle, another faculty member, Gil had come to them looking into why his friend had gone missing. He was both loyal and determined, qualities that were in short demand in today’s youth. With the average life span of their members, it was only prudent to consider their replacements before they were needed. Cory didn’t know when to keep his mouth shut, nor did he approach these situations with the proper decorum. His cocky attitude could one day get a lot of people killed. While he applauded Gil’s composure though, the professor did wish the boy was just brittle enough after dealing with Jacoby to betray something of his mind’s inner workings. Beyond his schoolwork and loyalty to his missing friend, he was a complete mystery to everyone.

That was perhaps why Cory was constantly trying to goad Gil into a fight, to crack the armor that shielded him from scrutiny. At least their rivalry would allow the professor to pay attention to their safety for the night, rather than worrying over whether Jacoby was right. Watching the two men gathering branches from the tree line, Cory glancing at Gil every few minutes as if to make sure he was still in sight, the professor knew that Cory would watch Gil for any signs of treachery as a matter of course.

***                  ***                  ***

When the darkness had fallen on the trees like a shroud, Glory stepped from the small copse of evergreens and into the clearing. The moon was not yet up, which hid them from the nearby camp. Though most of the bones had been removed from the hollow, footing was still treacherous. Gozala followed her to the cave’s entrance, guiding and supporting Mike as they inched across the bone yard.

At the opening, Glory let herself down into the dark. It was only a short drop to the floor. She gathered the stones that she could find and tossed them out into the leaves, pocketing one for later study. Gozala winced as the stones came sailing past.

Poking her head out the hole, Glory asked, “Do they hurt you?”

“Not exactly.” Gozala stood at the opening, Mike’s arm wrapped in her own. “You know how it feels sometimes before a storm? Like the air has weight and you almost have a headache, but not quite? It’s kind of like that. Plus, I don’t know… I just don’t like their shape. They had them all over the walls of the room where they kept me.”

To Glory they felt comforting in her hand, like cradling a small, warm puppy. She shrugged and scoured the floor for more, wondering how much of Gozala’s discomfort was hereditary, and how much was learned. Were the affects of the stones psychosomatic or genetic?

“Mike?” came a hoarse whisper from across the clearing. The moon was just clearing the trees and shone down into the bone yard like a spotlight. Gil rushed across the clearing, throwing his arms around his boyfriend in relief.

“Careful!” hissed Gozala, stepping out of the way. Gil glared down at her, his look clearly communicating his disinterest in anything she had to say. “You’re going to hurt him. He’s not so sturdy any more,” She growled, glaring right back at him.

“Mike? Why won’t you talk to me?” He peered up into his boyfriend’s face, but it was obscured by his hood.

“He can’t.” Glory responded from the cave opening. “No more vocal chords.”

Gil looked down at her helplessly, then back at Mike. He reached under Mike’s hood to touch his face, but Mike caught his hands in his own and slowly shook his head. Gil looked at his bandaged hands and back up to Mike’s face. “Let me see you!” he demanded, near tears.

Mike released his lover’s hands and slowly reached up to his hood. He hesitated before pulling it back, revealing nothing but the bandages that swathed his head. Between the bandages and the darkness, Gil was probably better off not seeing the affects of the fungus that had invaded Mike’s system.

“You did this!” Gil growled, turning on Gozala. “This is your fault.” He turned to grab hold of her, but Mike caught him by the shoulders and turned him back around to face him. He silently shook his head once more.

“If you want to blame anyone, it’s your friends over there.” Gozala hissed, gesturing towards the soft glow of the campfire. “If they’d just left me and my dad alone, none of this would have happened. I didn’t do anything to him aside from trying to warn him off.”

It was clear that Gil didn’t want to believe her, but after a moment, he took Mike by the wrist and said. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. I’ll drive all night until we get to a hospital somewhere where no one could possibly know us.” Again, Mike shook his head.

“I think it’s… too late for that, and for Geber’s manuscript.” Glory announced climbing from the cave mouth. Mike nodded sadly. “I’m sorry Gil. I don’t think there’s anything anyone can do anymore.”

“Then why even come back here?” Gil demanded angrily. “What was the point?”

Mike gestured to Gozala who was scrambling into the hole Glory had vacated. She looked from Mike to Gil and back before giving Mike a sad smile. “He just wanted to bring me home. I don’t hold him responsible, and I wish I could fix him, but I don’t think there’s anything anyone could do, even if the infection had been caught in time.” She looked from Mike to Gil to Glory. “Thanks,” she said, giving Glory a nod before looking back to Mike. “ Thanks for everything, and I‘m sorry… for everything.” Without another word, she disappeared into the cave.

Mike leaned into Gil, resting his bandaged head on Gil’s shoulder before making as if to follow after Gozala. “Hey! No, wait… you got her home. You don’t need to go down there too!” Gil cried, catching at Mike’s arm.

“Gil…. Think about it. I don’t think he wants you to see him… waste away.“

“I’ll take care of him!“ he asserted, crawling to the cave entrance where Mike had already disappeared.

“No, look…. His mind seems to be okay, but who knows how long his body’s got. Do you think he wants to let you watch him turn to slime? Going down there is probably his only alternative unless he wants to let your Miskatonic friends dissect him, and they certainly won’t be humane about his feelings. They’ll treat him like any other thing they’ve encountered in their monster hunts.”

“Then I’m going down there too!” He put his feet through the hole and slid down into the dark without waiting for a response.

With a sigh, Glory followed him into the opening. She was morbidly curious about Gozala’s father, and despite Gil’s current wishes to the contrary, she suspected that Mike would appreciate it if Gil managed to get back out when all was said and done.

The cave was pitch black. Gozala probably knew the contours of the cavern like the back of her hand. Mike probably could home in her or get directions psychically or something. Glory had extremely good night vision, but she did need some light in order for it to be effective. Despite her misgivings, neither she nor Gil had a flashlight, so she popped her sword. She had found that the sword assumed the shape of her will, small or large depending upon her need. Instead of assuming the shape of a blade now, she let the light wrap around her fist like a ball and held her arm above her head to illuminate their way.

Gil looked at her round-eyed. “More magic,” he muttered dismissively before turning to look for Mike. She was glad that he was taking it in stride, but she suspected it was more distraction than anything. He was too concerned with his lover’s illness to demand answers for this newest display. Which was just as well since she had none for Aaron’s gift.

From somewhere in the depths of the cavern, they heard a cry of joy. Presumably Gozala had been reunited with her father. An ancient cave painting was briefly uncovered by her light as they hurried down the passage, and Glory wished she had more time to examine it. But Gil was at the very edge of her light and moving fast. There was too much of a chance that he might fall or otherwise injure himself if she didn’t keep up.

She caught up with him just in time to grab the back of his shirt as he almost pitched over a substantial landslide of scree. Glory’s light washed over Gozala wrapped in the arms of huge mountain of a man, or at least it had been a man once. If that was what Mike looked like under his bandages, it was no wonder he didn’t want Gil to have to deal with his eventual dissolution.

The corpse looked up at Glory’s light, its oozing face twisting in a furious rictus. “No!” Gozala shouted, putting her hands on his chest and holding him back from charging up the hill of loose slate and shale. “They’re my friends. They helped me get home.”

Gil paid no attention to Gozala or the body her father was inhabiting. Instead, he slid down the scree pile and went right to Mike’s side. Mike had reached the bottom of the pile and seated himself next to a carpet of gray mold, apparently Gozala‘s actual father. Other fairly well preserved bodies of animals rested in the slime. It was obvious that bodies were kept in the temperature controlled cavern until they were no longer useful, then sent out to decompose in the little depression above. Otherwise the cavern would be littered with bones. But the cave floor was clean and for the most part worn smooth by the passage of hundreds or thousands of visitors over the millennia.

The corpse beside Gozala tracked Gil’s movement as he approached Mike and knelt by his side. Glory could see what probably attracted most of the slime mold’s human victims. Gold or iron pyrite, the walls around the carpet of slime glittered alluringly. Gil sat down next to Mike and put his head on Mike’s shoulder. With an air of defeat, Mike turned his head slightly and lay it against Gil’s.

Some instinct caused Glory to turn just as a man snuck up behind her. Before she could react, he hit her with the butt of his gun, knocking her down the scree pile. The wind was knocked out of her on landing, but otherwise she was unharmed aside from a few cuts in her hands. Her light went out, but the man had a flashlight… the light of which had been obscured by her own. Once she reached the bottom, she let her light out again. Gozala’s father gave her a wary look, stepping away from Glory’s light and taking Gozala with him. It was evidently something he was familiar with and did not particularly care for. After a moment, he turned his attention back to the man who had interrupted them as the more important threat.

“I knew you were in league with these freaks, Gil. I knew it.” Cory announced triumphantly. “I can’t wait to get back to the camp and tell Professor Scott all about his golden boy.”

As if use of the word had caused him to notice the glittering walls, he blinked and then stepped into the scree, letting himself slide down in a controlled descent as he continued to keep his gun trained on Glory, Gozala, and her father. Gil and Mike didn’t move, but even a few yards away, Glory could see Gil was crying.

Cory anxiously tried to keep track of everyone in the cavern, his gun moving from Gil and Mike to Glory, Gozala, and her father and back again. Gil and Mike seemed oblivious to his presence, but the glittering walls were what really had his attention. Stooping, he picked up a chunk of stone and examined it in the light of his flashlight. Glory could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he considered the fact that in the morning, this cavern would be sealed and any chance he had to collect the treasure would be lost.

Cory looked around at his companions before focusing on Glory. “You. Come here.” He kept his gun trained on her, but switched off his flashlight. Whatever questions he might have about her light, the gold was suddenly more important to him. He tried to position himself to keep an eye on the others, even as he gestured for Glory to step in front of him. “Grab anything that glitters. You’re going to help me remove as much of the loose pieces as possible.”

Wordlessly, Glory began picking up rock. Behind her, Cory divided his attention between his captives and the gold, grabbing at anything near his feet. After several seconds, he was paying more attention to the glittering litter than his prisoners. Even with the starstone that he no doubt carried somewhere on his person, Glory suspected Gozala’s father was influencing him, feeding his greed at the expense of his common sense. As Cory strayed close to the furred body of some unidentifiable animal lying in the slime, it launched itself at his head, clawing and biting as he spun and struggled to pry it away. In the enclosed space of the cavern, the sound of the gun was like the crack of thunder. Cory fell onto the floor as more decomposing animals launched themselves at him.

But the animals were the least of his worries, as large chunks of rock began to rain down from above. The scree pile was only a small example of cave ins that had probably been occurring naturally for centuries. His gun shot, and then a second one a few seconds later, had triggered a much larger one that threatened to bury them all.

Glory stepped around the struggling man. Her humanity said to help him; her instincts said he wasn’t worth saving. Blood already soaked the rock strewn floor and his struggles were becoming more and more feeble. He had already dropped the gun. Even if she managed to get him out, she suspected he would end up like Mike, or worse.

She looked up at Gozala and her father. He was watching her, while Gozala looked up at the falling ceiling. After a moment, he pushed Gozala toward Glory and gestured toward the exit.

“No!” Gozala cried in frustration. “I don’t want to go!”

Regardless of her wishes, he pushed her again before striding over to Mike and Gil. Gil let out a squawk of outrage as the corpse lifted him up by his shirt. When Gil tried to fight back, the thing shook him as if to bring him to his senses before half tossing him towards Glory as well. Mike stirred himself enough to point up the scree pile, clearly wanting Gil to save himself. As if to put an end to any further argument, a boulder half the size of Gozala smashed into Mike from above, splattering his head and upper body into a red and black gooey mass.

Gil let out a wail of agony, falling to his knees. Glory grabbed him by the arm just under his shoulder and hoisted him back to his feet, dragging him upwards while dodging falling rock. He stumbled by her side as if in a daze, no longer fighting their egress. Seeming to have come to an agreement with her father, Gozala also climbed along with them, but she didn’t look happy.

Cory’s gunshots had triggered a much larger cave in than anything the cavern had seen before. The whole place was shaking, even as they struggled to the cave mouth. Glory helped push Gozala through the opening, then Gil with Gozala pulling from outside. She pulled herself out last and lay panting in the wet leaves before the sound of shouts from the nearby camp reminded her that they were still in danger.

Gil lay curled up in a ball, crying, and Gozala sat glassy-eyed and miserable as well, neither of them caring much at that moment how the people a few yards away would deal with them. Glory grabbed Gozala and shook her before the girl looked up into her face with any recognition.

“Go, hide in the evergreens.” When Gozala nodded, Glory turned her attention to Gil. When shaking him didn’t get his attention, she slapped him. He gasped, but finally looked into her eyes. “He wanted you to live, and if you want to honor what you had with him, that’s what you’re going to do.” She shoved a piece of stone into his hand. “Tell them you followed that other guy into the cave and saw him collecting the gold. When you confronted him, he tried to shoot you. Got it?”

Gil sobbed one last time as he pulled himself together and nodded. Light from the camp was coming closer. Glory quickly stood and sprinted across the hollow to their hiding place.

***                  ***                  ***

Gil stood in her doorway, hollow eyed and pale. In the few weeks since she‘d last seen him, he‘d lost weight. He looked tired but determined. Glory invited him in, but he shook his head.

“I.. just wanted to thank you, for all that you did. I’ve… decided to live. I wasn’t sure I wanted to, but you were right. Mike would have been pissed if I decided to kill myself after all that. I know what he did was to spare me having to watch him die, I just wish he would have asked me what I wanted before trying to be some kind of unselfish martyr.” His tone said that he didn’t think Mike had been unselfish in his choice at all.

“What about Miskatonic?”

“I left school. I don’t know if they believed my explanation or not. I showed them the gold nugget, but I just don’t know. After all that happened though, they didn’t argue when I asked to take some time off, get my head together.”

“What are you going to do now? Go home?”

“No… I had it out with my parents. Told them I was gay and about Mike. They said awful things, that… his parents should be relieved he w-was dead.” He broke down in a sob. “His parents, they knew. They… I’ve been staying with them, but I’m… I’ve decided. I’m going back to the woods.”

“Gil, you can’t…”

He waved off her argument. “I not going for Mike. I know he’s gone. But Gozala’s still out there. She’s just a little girl. Now that her father is stuck underground, someone needs to look after her.”

Glory wanted to tell him he was wrong, that Gozala was more than capable of looking after herself, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Gil needed something to occupy his time and fill the space Mike had left behind. She didn’t doubt that Gozala needed someone too. She nodded and wished Gil luck, letting him find his own reason to live in a world that had utterly changed now that Mike was gone.

::: End Chapter 5 :::

Gil didn’t know a lot about Gozala or the circumstances that had led to her capture, but he did know that Mike had gone on a camping trip to the Jersey Pine barrens before he got sick. Only a few months before, the school had sent three men, including Mike, to survey old ruins in the pine barrens in preparation for excavation in the spring. According to the men who had recruited Gil, Mike was the only one who came back.

Though they couldn’t be sure where Mike and Gozala were going, it was a safe guess that Gozala might be trying to get home now that Mike‘s condition was getting so bad, not that Glory told Gil that. On the other hand, Mike could not have given up hope if he’d taken Geber’s manuscript. Maybe they were just heading into the barrens to get Gozala’s father’s advice or so that Mike could deposit Gozala there before he was too far gone to get her home at all.

Glory’s makeshift “Mike” compass did not waver in its heading, no matter which road they were on. The needle invariably pointed southwest. Knowing that they were probably heading to the pine barrens was a long way from knowing where in the million plus acres of mostly national forest they were going. Still it gave them a general direction as they headed towards the nearest edge of the barrens and allowed them to choose a route that would take them there quickly even if the compass did not always agree with their course.

Stopping at a store as they left Sybar City, Glory picked up some plastic wrap for the bowl. She didn’t want it sloshing around and spilling if they went over a bump. She also found a map of New Jersey. She would have preferred a topographical map of the pine barrens, but beggars couldn’t exactly be choosers.

They didn’t hit much traffic until they left the Garden State Parkway for route 72. Within minutes, traffic came to a sudden, grinding halt. There was barely any movement whatsoever in the cars in front of them and after a few minutes, Glory turned the radio on hoping for some news. She panned through several stations until mention of the Pine Barrens caught her notice.

“…that’s right folks,” the DJ announced in a mocking tone, “local and state law enforcement has blocked several roads through the Jersey Pine Barrens because of heh heh… sightings of the Jersey Devil! Apparently people have been seeing something strange in the Burlington area for a couple months now. Allegedly a car was run off the road earlier today by some kind of… mutant roadrunner is how one witness described it. Now I’m not an expert on local folklore, but it sounds to me like someone was raising ostriches or something and one got loose, scared the beejeezus out of a bunch of people, and now the police are out there trying to catch the stupid thing…” he went on to speculate about the intelligence of the police and whether the owner of the ‘ostrich farm’ would come forward any time soon to clear up the whole mess.

“Huh… I wonder…” Glory murmured to herself.

“What? Now we have to worry about urban legends?” Gil growled. It was clear from his tone and posture that he was completely frustrated. He gripped the steering wheel with white knuckled hands.

“Probably not… it could just be a coincidence, but if it is, it’s a really weird one.”

He growled as she carefully set the bowl on the floor and consulted the map. The cars slowly inched forward and Gil road the bumper of the car in front of him. She’d have told him to relax, but in her experience that usually just made people more anxious and angry.

“Look for an exit for Willow Grove Road. It looks like it goes in the general direction we want.”

“Yeah, okay… We’ll see if we get there before nightfall,” Gil muttered through gritted teeth.

It was almost two hours before they could see a sign in the distance and another hour before they were near enough to read it. Gil whined and banged his forehead into the steering wheel. Another mile or so would take them to the exit they wanted, but that could be another hour at least. Glory rubbed his shoulder compassionately. She wished she’d bought some food for him. At least it would give him something to do instead of think about being stuck in traffic.

For the next hour and half they inched towards their exit with a purpose. Even as they neared it, they could see men and state troopers working their way up through the stopped cars… which was very odd. There couldn’t be any reason to go from car to car unless they were looking for someone. They were within a car length of being able to leave route 72 when Gil’s head shot up like a deer who’s just heard a hunter step on a twig. “That’s my professor,” he whispered in a horrified and bewildered voice, nodding towards the scruffy man accompanied by a trooper four car lengths away. They were only one of several pairs of men and troopers slowly working their way through the idling cars. Gil’s professor had obviously not seen them yet, but it was unlikely that they’d get to the exit before he did look in their direction. Traffic was simply moving too slow.

“Inch onto the shoulder. Not too fast or they may think we‘ve got something to hide, and try not to look at them.”

Gil did as she instructed, but the driver of the car in front of them was one of those people who seemed to take exception to others trying to get around them in traffic. She could see him glance at them in his mirror before also inching forward and a bit onto the shoulder to block their progress. Traffic was moving though, however slowly, and his tactic would only work so long as the driver in front of him stayed stationary. But the car in front of them stubbornly refused to move even as the car in front of it pulled forward a few feet. Even if the driver had pulled forward by one foot, Gil might have squeezed by on the shoulder.

“Can I see your license and registration please?” A trooper asked, leaning into Gil’s window. Beside him stood another man who Glory could only assume worked for Miskatonic if Gil’s professor was involved. He did not seem to recognize Gil though for which she imagined they were both grateful. “Where are you folks heading?”

“Sweetwater.” Glory interjected before Gil could fumble an answer. It was just a town on the map so far as she was concerned, but it was in the general direction they were going and seemed to satisfy the trooper. He nodded without comment and handed Gil’s identification back to him.

“We’re sorry for the inconvenience.” he announced in a voice that showed it was a statement he’d been making a lot that day. “My companion here is going to ask you some questions about anything you might have seen in the area.” He was also clearly not thrilled to be babysitting someone who was not law enforcement.

The other man stuck his head in the window and looked them both over. Satisfied that they were not Mike and Gozala, his first question was whether they had seen a little girl with pink hair accompanied by a very pale man in a hoodie or otherwise bundled up.

“No, sorry. “ Glory answered for the both of them as Gil only seemed capable of shaking his head.

“Have you seen anything odd along the road in past few months?”

“We’re not from the area. This is our first time through.”

He nodded, patting the door dismissively. “Okay, thanks for your time.” He stood, moving onto the next car in line.

The car in front of them had moved up just enough for them to pull onto the ramp to Willow Grove Road. As they carefully inched around the other driver so as not to scrape his bumper, Gil’s professor happened to look up and directly at them. His mouth fell open, and he raised his hand to point at their car as if he were a pod person signaling his companions that the unconverted were in their midst.

“Don’t give any sign that you notice him.” Glory said hurriedly. “Just drive like you normally would, at speed limit.”

Gil pursed his lips, but did as she said. The urge to race onto the ramp and away from the police was almost overwhelming, especially now that they’d been noticed, but he did no more than 25 miles per hour as he made the exit. Behind them, they could hear the professor shouting and shrilly denouncing them as heretics, race traitors, and a whole host of other slurs. Most of his colleagues had the good grace to look embarrassed for his behavior. Maybe they weren’t all as unhinged as he was. Several of them tried to quiet him while their police escort looked seriously pissed. They’d already been forced to spend a day unlawfully holding up traffic so the men from Miskatonic could ask questions better left to the police. Now they’d have to deal with the bad press of racial slurs and having assisted an apparent lunatic. Very few of the troopers looked at their car as they drove away. After all, they’d already been examined by one set of questioners, their papers were in order, and they were not racing to get away. A few of the troopers almost wished that Glory and Gil had stopped, if only to file a complaint. Already many of the people in the cars around them were giving the troopers and scholars ugly looks.

to Chapter 5, page 12

Gil had no trouble passing her wards as she helped him up the stairs. Numb as he was from the news of Mike’s illness, he was no one’s enemy. Glory took him to the kitchen and had him sit at the table. She was lucky that the house had come fully furnished since she probably would not have troubled herself with buying a kitchen table and chairs otherwise, or a dining room set for that matter. If she kept getting unexpected visitors though, it might be prudent to invest in some food and drinks. She was lucky to even have a cup in the cabinet.

She filled her one and only cup with water from the tap and turned back to Gil to find him with his head in his hands. “Come on guy. It’ll be okay. He’s looking for a way to cure himself.” She set the glass down and awkwardly patted him on the shoulder. “He hasn’t given up.”

“He’s not my best friend,” Gil mumbled desolately through his tears.

“Oh?” she responded, puzzled by the sudden revelation.

“He’s my boyfriend.”

“Oh!” His emotional state made a lot more sense to her now.

“We d-didn’t tell anyone. My parents… they’re not… they wouldn’t have allowed it.”

“Yeah, some parents can be…. pretty ignorant,” as she knew from first hand experience.

“And then he was just g-gone. He didn’t say anything. I knew he was sick for a little while, but I thought it was the f-flu.”

“Yeah, I think so did he.” She paused, uncertain how to continue. “He’s looking for a cure. Do you know anything about alchemy?”

He blinked in confusion and looked at her blankly. “Just that it’s a precursor to chemistry. It’s kind of nonsense… like ghosts and UFOs.”

She laughed despite herself, and he looked as if he might start crying again. “Look,” she said, laying a hand on his arm, “Just because modern science has debunked a lot of ideas concerning alchemy and other ‘pseudosciences,’ doesn’t mean they don’t have anything to offer. Even science is periodically updated as theories are discarded or adjusted to fit new data. Nothing is ‘nonsense.’ Everything is perceptual. Even in science, they’ve found that observation changes the results of any experiment. Alchemy is as dependent upon the purity of the intent of the alchemist as it is upon the purity of the ingredients.”

“So… if I don’t believe in something like alchemy, it wouldn’t work for me, but if I did, it would?”

“Not exactly. It’s more like taking things on faith. Faith is the gateway to miracles.”

He looked doubtful. “I… don’t believe in God,” he said bitterly.

“Doesn’t matter,” she replied, shaking her head. “It doesn’t have anything to do with the Christian concept of God. That’s just a construct anyway. Perceptual. The Christian God exists because people believe it does, and it exists to different people in different forms. It’s just an egregor, a collective thought form.” He looked confused again at the term, but she pressed on. “Miracles aren’t dependent upon divine intervention. They can be the result of faith, expectation, and the right formula. Mike’s simply looking for the right formula.”

He continued to look skeptical. “So Mike is looking for some kind of alchemical cure for whatever he’s infected with… Why doesn’t he just go to a hospital and let them look him over? I’m sorry, but whether or not alchemy and all that stuff is real or not, modern medicine has come a long way since the Dark Ages.”

Glory bit her lip. “For one thing, I imagine he’s afraid his former teachers might track him down if he did that. After seeing how they treated Gozala, I doubt he feels like he has a lot of legitimate options.”

When he nodded, she pressed on, knowing he probably wouldn’t like or believe what else she had to say. “There’s also the fact that… well… he’s technically dead.”

“He’s what?!” Gil’s eyes widened in horror.

Glory sighed. “I don’t know the specifics, but whatever he’s infected with… it allows him to continue walking around, but all his bodily functions have ceased. If there’s a way for him to cure himself, alchemy may be the only solution.”

“Oh, my, god….” he groaned, sagging in his chair.

“I’m sorry. There’s…. more.”

“More?!”

“He’s… well, his body is… rotting away. He may not have much time left. The cold weather was helping to preserve him, but I think that winter’s just about done. Unless he heads to Canada or something, I don’t think he can last…much… “

She broke off as, with a moan, Gil dropped his head into his hands again. She felt bad, as shell shocked as Gil had seemed on the street, didn’t he deserve to know what was going on if he was really in love with Mike? She just hoped that all this information wouldn’t put him over the edge. He already seemed perilously close to a nervous breakdown.

“Come on…” She nudged him until he got to his feet, “You need to get some sleep, I think.” Leading him unresisting up the stairs to her room, anyone could see the man was mentally and physically exhausted. Rest, in a real bed, would do him good. Food would probably help too, but rest first. His eyes were closed before his head ever touched the pillow. Glory wasn’t even sure he was aware of where he was any more.

Carefully closing the door so as not to disturb him, she walked down the hall to the library. She’d lock up Geber’s manuscript in her secret vault and then go out to a store. By the time Gil woke, she’d have some food ready for him. Glory didn’t like to think about what he must have been eating if he’d been on the road since Mike broke Gozala out. Living out of a car was stressful enough without worrying about your missing boyfriend.

The room was already illuminated by the morning sun, and Glory paused in the door, closing her eyes and inhaling the warmth like a flavor. She might not have any need for food and her senses had lost their ability to tantalize, but she suspected her library, any library, would always feel welcoming and calming after a stressful day’s events. Even if that day were only a few hours old.

Opening her eyes, she focused on the table and her mouth dropped open. If she could still feel her stomach, it would have been flopping about like a toad seeking an escape route. The table was empty. Gozala and Mike had taken the manuscript with them. A bitter rage welled up inside her. Not that she begrudged Mike his need to find a cure, but this was the second time someone had stolen a book from her. She reserved the right to be ticked off, despite her concession to his needs.

Her mouth set in a firm line, she turned on her heel and left the room. Purposefully, she strode down the stairs and out of the house. First food for Gil, then she would see about tracking Mike and Gozala down.

Glory would help Mike and Gozala if she could, but one way or another, she would take back Geber’s manuscript. She couldn’t keep letting people take things from her. It wasn’t that she considered herself a materialist or assigned much value to any book based on ownership, but… While she’d be the first to admit that it was probably not a healthy fixation, every book she owned felt like a little extension of herself. When people took them from her, her sister stealing her manuscript and now Mike taking Geber’s manuscript… well, he might as well have carved out a little piece of her flesh as a keepsake.

What had the ghoul called her… a guardian? It was time she started acting like it. She resolved to never let anyone get close enough to her treasures to ever steal from her again.

to Chapter 5, page 9

Glory unlocked the gate. Gozala and Mike followed her up the stairs. A car had parked a few spaces away and its two occupants seemed to be arguing, but she paid them no mind. She’d noticed since moving in that though her neighborhood was upscale, her neighbors were still pretty much jerks. They had the same problems poor people had, and all the money to make them worse.

Though it was too early for outdoor plants, she’d alternated massive white and black urns in preparation for potted trees along the edge of her porch. Protective wards were painted into the interiors, and Glory had used the urns themselves to hide other symbols chipped directly into the stone beneath. When she added trees in the spring, probably hawthorns for their protective thorns, the power of the wards would be increased tenfold. The fact that they were alive would make them that much more powerful. Living wards were always more powerful, though less durable. She didn’t expect to be living here forever though.

Gozala and Mike seemed to have no trouble as they approached the door. Entering, Glory stepped to the side and waited for her guests to follow her through. Gozala looked at her suspiciously, looked at the house, then shrugged and stepped through the opening. Mike didn’t even pause as he followed her into the house.

“Was I supposed to, like, burst into flames or something?” Gozala quipped.

“No, nothing like that. I just had to make sure… for my peace of mind.” She considered telling them about her sister, but decided against it.  “It’s not important,” she ended lamely. They probably wouldn’t be around long enough for it to be something they needed to know. She’d almost have been relieved by Lori’s lack of interest, if it didn’t make her feel completely paranoid and distinctly helpless. It didn’t seem like the police were looking for Lori at all, and she didn’t know the first thing about detective work herself. She briefly had considered hiring a PI, but she didn’t want to put anyone in danger.

“If you say so.” Gozala replied, looking around curiously. “So are they going to deliver the book tomorrow? We can come back then.”

“No, I have it here.” Glory touched the slight bulge under her jacket reverently. “Let’s go to the library.”

In the library, she sat at the long table which dominated the room. To her mind, it was the room’s best feature. The old books in their shelves were nice, but the thing that made it a library and not just a room with books was the heavy oak table under the tall plate glass windows. In the morning, the sun would shine through the stained glass trim and paint the room in welcoming rainbow colors.  This was her domain, more so than her home or the bookstore had ever been. It surprised her to no end that, despite everything, for the first time in her life she felt content someplace. Her home and this room, were inviolate, or as close to it as she could hope.

Glory gently removed the package from its nest within her coat and lay it on the table. For a moment, she forgot anyone else was in the room as she removed Geber’s manuscript from the large manila envelope the auction house had placed it in for transport and carefully undid the twine securing the canvas wrapping around the pages. Inhaling the scent of ancient vellum, she careful spread the pages over the table top. There were only eight, but the writing was so crabbed that the author could have used eight more without making effort to fill the space.

Pulling open a drawer at the end of the table, she removed a jeweler’s loupe headset and slid the visor onto her head. This wasn’t the first time she’d dealt with a handwritten manuscript, and she did not want to miss the smallest detail. Gozala laughed and Glory looked up, her eyes made large and watery by the magnifying lenses. Reaching into the drawer, she pulled out a magnifying glass and offered it to Mike who at some point had pulled up a chair to sit opposite Glory.

She’d noticed in the car, but more so now, that a sickly sweat aroma seemed to cling to him. Perhaps it was more noticeable in the warmth of the house.  Perhaps it was just because of the magnifier she was wearing, but his skin was more than just pasty. It looked as if it were flaking and sloughing away. She could still not see his face under his hoodie, but something told her she really didn’t want to.

He didn’t say a word as he took the glass from her hand and bent to the paper closest to him. Gozala wandered over and briefly glanced at one of the pages before returning to the shelves to examine the old books there. Apparently Mike was the scholar, and Gozala was the muscle. That was actually a scary thought for some reason.

“Your books are really boring,” Gozala announced some time later. “I figured you were a serious collector with how you went after Geber’s manuscript.” Glory wasn’t sure how long they’d been pouring over the pages, in Latin and old French she was relieved to see, but it was completely dark outside. At some point someone must have turned on the light, but she honestly didn’t remember if she had done it or one of her guests.

“They came with the house. I keep my collection someplace else.” Glory replied absently as she looked up, then stood. It was getting late, and she was not being a very good host. “Are you hungry? I don’t have any food in the house, but I could order a pizza.”

“No thanks,” the little girl replied with a shrug, as if food were something with which she need not concern herself. Mike said nothing, just continued examining the paper in his hand.

“There are guest rooms if you’d like to lie down, or if you’d like to watch TV.”

Gozala considered it a moment, then shrugged again. That seemed to be her favorite default mode of expression. “Okay. TV sounds good.”

Glory led her to her room, where the only TV in the house was located. If Gozala ended up falling asleep in there, it wasn’t as if Glory needed the bed. After turning on the TV and giving Gozala the remote, she paused in the hall outside the room and looked out the front window. The car that had parked when they pulled up was still there, and she could just make out the silhouette of someone sitting in the passenger seat.

“What is it?” Gozala asked from the bed when Glory continued to stare out the window.

“There’s someone sitting in a car out there, and I’m pretty sure they parked when we did.”

Gozala jumped from the bed and inched up to the window, attempting not to be seen as she looked out. It would have been cute if Glory thought she was just humoring her, but the little girl’s expression was completely serious. A nervous frown spread over her face as she peered into the darkness, then she practically ran back to the library. “Mike?” she cried anxiously. “We have to go.”

He looked up, but said nothing, just gave a slow shake of his head.

“Yeah, we do. I think Miskatonic found us.”

He balled up his fist and slammed it against the table. It was the fastest Glory had seen him move and his hand made an unpleasant moist sound as it struck the table. He looked down as if surprised. Lifting his hand, splattered bits of his flesh stuck to the surface like wet clay.

“Okay, now that’s pretty gross right there, Mike. You have to be more careful.” Gozala said sternly as she took his hand and examined the damage. She reached into the pocket of his hoodie and removed some gauze. The way she wrapped it around his wound evidenced the fact that it wasn’t the first time she’d had to fix him up. He made a sound, the first sound she’d heard out of him, but it was little more than a rattling sigh. It could have even been an errant gust of wind outside.

“What does Miskatonic University have to do with the people outside?” Glory asked, trying to ignore the bits of Mike still stuck to the table. Whatever his illness, it wasn’t any of her business. At a guess, she’d say it was leprosy though.

“Mike used to go to school there. He kind of stole something from them.”

“What? A book or something?”

“No,” Gozala looked back at Glory sadly, “Me. He stole me.”

Chapter 5, page 5

Glory sat through the auction impatiently. She could have had an agent handle the transactions over the phone, but she wanted to see the books for herself. She wasn’t the kind of person to buy sight unseen. So she sat and waited while the auctioneer presented ancient sealed vases (purportedly housing trapped demons) and art deco lamps (supposedly haunted), threadbare throw rugs (with djinn woven in to make them fly) and a cloth that was little more than a rag that was supposedly a fairy baby blanket or some such thing. She might study magic but she wasn’t gullible for goodness sake! Though she wouldn’t have minded examining them more closely…  just for the sake of curiosity.

The estate sale was for some rich old collector of the occult who had passed away, leaving no heirs but plenty of debt collectors clamoring for restitution. Glory kept forgetting his name and would not have even been in attendance if she hadn’t seen a newspaper article mentioning his extensive library. If the auction house had been offering it entire, she’d most definitely have dropped a fat sum on them and had the books shipped without examining them, but they were selling them off piece meal in order to wring a better price from those in attendance. Which meant that she had to pay attention, no matter how boring or sensationalist the auction was.

Most of the books were obviously old, but not particularly unique.  So far the books that they had trotted out for bidding were very mundane. She bid on a few and won or occasionally lost, but was not very disappointed when she did. The books were just not very remarkable. Perhaps he had sunk his fortune in flying carpets. There certainly seemed to be quite a few. But she had noticed a few books and manuscripts that looked interesting and she was eager to hear what the auctioneer had to say about them.

“Next we have an unnamed alchemical manuscript credited to Abu Musa Jābir ibn Hayyān, also called Geber.” Glory sat up a little straighter in her chair as the auctioneer continued, “Dating marks the text as thirteenth century. However Geber died four hundred years earlier while under house arrest in 815. Possibly a medieval translation, it is a rare example of a 13th century alchemical text in its entirety.  Bidding will start at $9000. Do I have $9000?”

Glory raised her paddle, but was almost immediately outbid by a sickly looking guy in sun glasses and his pink haired kid. At least, she assumed she was his kid, maybe sister. Both of them looked rather ragged, and he wore a jacket with a hood that hid most of his head. If it hadn’t been daytime, she might have thought they were a couple of vampires, as pale as they both were. Obviously they weren’t the only odd looking people in an auction primarily filled with occult collectors, but she hadn’t noticed them before, or maybe it was just because this was the first time they’d bid. Maybe they’d been there all along. Glory raised her paddle again and the little girl glared at her, whispering something to the guy who immediately upped his bid in response.

What followed was fifteen minutes of intense bidding until the price of the text was well over $50,000. The other buyers in the room ping ponged their attention back and forth between Glory and the pale pair as they each tried to outbid the other. But $57,500 was apparently their limit. Glory honestly didn’t know how to feel about spending that much on a single book. Having so much money still didn’t feel real to her. It was like spending Monopoly money. The girl gave her companion an angry shove and left in a huff. He followed behind silently. With his sunglasses on, Glory couldn’t tell if he even looked at her as they left.  His movement seemed to be very mechanical, as if every step was made by will alone.

In the next few hours, Glory won several more bids, but none of the books were as interesting as Geber’s manuscript. At one point, she was in a bidding war with a strange man for a Bulgarian translation of the Necronomicon. Or at least, she assumed it was a man. He wore so many layers of clothes that she couldn’t really tell. Since she didn’t read Bulgarian however and had never had the opportunity to examine the Necronomicon aside from short verses quoted in other work, she let it go after a few minutes. If she won, she wouldn’t even be able to tell if it was an accurate translation.

Throughout the auction, all she could think of was Geber’s manuscript. She itched to get her hands on it. What language would it be written in? She hoped it wasn’t old English. She hated old English. Latin was better. Or maybe it would be in Persian. The thought of having to learn a new dead language made her positively giddy. Even if it was not written by Geber, it could be a copy of something he had done or it could have been written by an alchemist who admired his work and so took his name as his own. It could just be a fake. She was such a nerd, it really didn’t matter. It was still a 13th century alchemical text, regardless of who wrote it.

As the auction ended, she stood and quickly intercepted the auctioneer. “Excuse me, I know that my purchases will be shipped to my home, but I would like to take the Geber text with me.”

He gave her a look of distaste before covering it up with a professional smile. No doubt he thought everyone who’d attend an auction of mostly occult items were all freaks. She really couldn’t speak for the others, but she’d be the first to admit to being a bit on the outskirts of normal. “There’s no need for that miss. All purchases will be delivered with the utmost discretion. You can expect delivery tomorrow or you may arrange for pick up if you prefer.”

“But I can’t just leave with one of my purchases now?”

He hesitated, then shrugged. “Well, it’s not the normal way things are done…”

“Okay, well that’s the way we’re going to do it this time for this one item that I just paid you a whole heap of money for, right?”

“Er…yeeeees, okay. I guess I can’t think of a reason why not, aside from protocol.”

“Great!” She said with a sincere smile. Was it really that he was bending the rules for her, or was it one of her tattoos encouraging his cooperation? Did it matter? A few minutes later, she walked out of the building, clutching the carefully wrapped text close to her chest. It was actually little more than a thin sheaf of pages, not even bound. It barely made a bulge under her coat.  She’d almost forgot her coat, so eager was she to get home and begin examining the manuscript. In fact, she did forget to call for a cab before leaving.

The sun was going down and it was starting to flurry as she stepped onto the side walk and actually looked up long enough to realize she had no ride.  Glory fished around in her pocket for her cell phone.

“Hey, hi!” said the pale little girl from the auction as she pushed away from the wall where she’d been leaning with her friend. “I’m Gozala, and this is Mike.”

“Um, hi…?” She couldn’t help but notice that they weren’t wearing coats, well aside from Mike’s hoodie. Gozala was just wearing an overly large t-shirt with a smiley face on it and jeans. Now she knew how disconcerting her lack of proper winter gear was to other people. Least she was dressing for the weather now, even if she couldn’t exactly feel the cold.

“We were kind of hoping that you’d be willing to let us look at Geber’s manuscript. It’s really important to Mike.”

“I see.” Glory glanced at Mike who stood impassively beside Gozala. At least he seemed to be doing slightly better in the cold than he had been in the warmth of the house. He was still abnormally pale, but he looked more comfortable.

“I could pay you. I mean, we could. I mean, we could like, maybe, sort of rent it. It’s realy, really a matter of life or death.”

“Life or death…” Glory repeated with a sinking feeling.She was glad the book was hidden under her coat.

“Do you need a ride?” Gosala caught Glory by the sleeve and tugged her toward a beat up old Cadillac. “We could probably explain things much better in private. See Mike’s really sick, and we’re hoping that maybe Geber’s work in takwin might help him.”

“You know about Geber’s work in creating artificial life?” Despite herself, she allowed herself to be led to the car.

“Yeah, sure. We got a copy of his Book of Stones, but its written in code and well, we figured some of it out, but it still didn’t work for us. But we heard about the manuscript you just won. It’s supposed to have a key to his code!” Mike got into the driver’s seat without commenting. Gozala opened the passenger door and looked at Glory expectantly.

She knew she shouldn’t trust these people, but she honestly didn’t think they had anything to do with her sister. And Mike really did look very sick. She told him her address in the upper east side, not that he gave any indication that he’d heard.

“Um, I hope you don’t mind, but Mike really can’t stand the heat. It’s very bad for his condition.” Gozala explained as she climbed into the back seat. “It’s a good thing it’s been a cold winter. We really couldn’t be here in the summer.”

“So the cold doesn’t seem to bother you.” Glory replied, glancing back at Gozala in her t-shirt.

“Oh, no. Actually, what’s wrong with Mike is kind of my fault, though kind of not. I mean, if he’d just left me with my dad, everything would have been okay.”

“I see…” Glory replied, though she didn’t really. “Look, I’ll make a deal with you… if you can come into my house, I’ll let you look at the book.”

“What do you mean, if we can come in?” Gozala asked with a frown.

“Well… we’ll see when we get there. If you can walk in the front door, then I’ll let you look at the book.”

“Why wouldn’t we be able to come in the front door exactly?”

“It’s nothing… life threatening. I have… enemies. So you just have to walk in the front door, and if you can do it, I’ll let you look at the book. No problem.”

“Okaaaay,” Gozala drawled, giving her a look that clearly said she thought Glory was a weirdo.

to Chapter 5, page 4

Tachchen Herr/Frau soundso,

hiermit bewerbe ich mich – unter den nachfolgend gelisteten Bedingungen – auf ihr Stellenangebot:

1) ich erhalte erstmal €50′000,- weil ich es überhaupt nicht einsehe, wenn ihr hier weniger Steuern zahlt, als der normale ALG II -Empfänger (selbst wenn man eure goodwill-Pauschale *Luxbg/Licht.st./..* mit einbezieht)!

2) erhalte ich als Aufwandsentschädigung, falls ihr mich nicht einstellt und nur ‘nen Depp sucht mit dem ihr *bewerbe dich bei uns* spielen könnt:

€100′000,- – ja, es muss schon richtig weh tun!

3) wenn ihr mir diese Email nicht beantwortet, verklage ich euch bis vor den Menschenrechtegerichtshof und sollte dies nicht reichen, lasse ich euch von Babak Moghadam(*~1935)s-Kameltreibern einmal der länge nach durch die Sahara treiben!

4) solltet ihr euch einen potentiellen Chef zum Haussklaven machen wollen und mich gegen meinen willen – dem deutschen Ordnungswillen gehorchend einstellen, erhalte ich mindestens monatlich €3′300,- Netto (da ich Steuerklasse I bin, könnt ihr dann das Brutto und das Arbeitgeberbrutto ausrechnen).

Da ich davon ausgehe, dass ihr nicht gänzlich verblödet seid (wie Beispielsweise der obengenannte Herrenmensch, seine Sklaven und Kameltreiber) – wisst ihr nun was zu tun ist!

Siuläyta Aliegäyta Anselmo!

[Eminem]in to you Simdi çeneni kapa ve kaderine razi ol..! You were supposed to love me Gerçekten sevmeliydin beni ! {*KIM CHOKING*} (*KIM BOGULMAKTADIR*) NOW BLEED! BITCH BLEED! GEBER SIMDI ! GEBER KALTAK ! BLEED! BITCH BLEED! BLEED! GEBER KALTAK !! GEBER GEBER !! Nakarat (2x)

[Eminem]in to you Simdi çeneni kapa ve kaderine razi ol..! You were supposed to love me Gerçekten sevmeliydin beni ! {*KIM CHOKING*} (*KIM BOGULMAKTADIR*) NOW BLEED! BITCH BLEED! GEBER SIMDI ! GEBER KALTAK ! BLEED! BITCH BLEED! BLEED! GEBER KALTAK !! GEBER GEBER !! Nakarat (2x)