Thursday, Nov. 25, 1999 - 3 am - Thanksgiving Day
Not able to sleep. We had all planned to have Thanksgiving dinner this evening over at Rachel's. Kat was looking forward to it. She was going to make her first pumpkin pie all by herself. Poor Kid. She doesn't know what to make of this. Neither do I. Alex is staying with them. She's a real basket case, but she'll pull out of it. She's a strong lady. I've been sacking out in a sleeping bag in a corner of the boat house. The Legacy bigwigs have pretty much taken over everything else. But I'm not leaving the island. I don't like what's going on here. They're real buddy-buddy with the authorities - no danger of anything leaking out without their approval.
Even if I'm not named permanent precept, they're letting me keep Derek's ring. As it is I've been named interim precept. Final decision will be made after a six-month probationary period. God! I don't know if I can take it. They are all such a bunch of sanctimonious ass-holes.
They found the sepulchers in tact. Each is being sent to a different Legacy House, ones without portals, while the keys are being sent to other Legacy Houses. No one will know which house has what, if anything. We found Derek's sword too, up in a eucalyptus tree more than 1,000 yds. to the north. It must have been blown out and away. The blade was bent a little, but it's in good shape otherwise. If they can break Derek's will, they mean to take that to London.
Those vultures are out to pillage the Luna Foundation and the museum, but I think Derek's arrangements are iron-clad. Everything is tied up in trusts, blind trusts, corporations, and foundations. He even left blueprints, made more than a dozen years ago, for a new house and a fund to rebuild that's been collecting interest since 1906. The house will be constructed on the opposite end of the Italian gardens. It will be a bit smaller and more modern, but totally with Derek's style - lots of redwood and stained glass. I intend to build a chapel over the site of the old house. The sword will rest upon its altar and maybe his ring too, if I never get the guts up to slip it on. I'll fight to the death for the sword and chapel.
But what I don't get is that they seem to be eager to blame the explosion on Derek. Someone has been leaking to the press. You'd think they'd come after me. Can't be that hard to figure I was the one that got the C-4. I've tried to suggest an outside act of terrorism. The scenario holds water because security and computers went down first.
What's keeping me awake is what happened yesterday afternoon. I was trying to catalog some artifacts that we found in the rubble, when I overheard parts of a strange conversation between the RP and the Legacy's chief investigator here, Fr. Thomas - such a prick of a man. Tho' they don't say, I think he's Rosicrucian. They didn't realize I was on the opposite side of what was left of the wall. Both seemed very smug.
The RP commented that he didn't see how Derek had managed to maintain the charade for so long. Thomas said that it was an amazing feat to be able to carry out the plan, while under constant surveillance by the Darkside. Apparently, those little Jawa guys were Hell's version of the CIA. They were monitoring our every move, our every word, and maybe had been for quite a while. The RP then said that Derek's loss was a great blow to the Legacy - "He was a brave, brilliant, honorable man. We'll always cherish his memory." God, I couldn't agree more.
I think I'll never stop missing him. It hurts so bad. When I was digging through the bricks, I found this nude bronze that sat somewhere upstairs. Can't recall where. Anyway, the explosion had bent it into a rather obscene position. I almost called over my shoulder, "Look, Derek! It's f**king itself." I stopped with the words choked in my mouth, but in my mind I saw that eyebrow go up, then a sly half-smile, and I damned near blushed. Goddammit Derek!
But back to those bastards from London. The RP praised Derek. Then Thomas said, "Too bad he'll have to be the scapegoat." After that they walked away and I couldn't hear any more.
I know his death will be ruled a suicide. Damn them! Was Derek playing a solo game against Satan himself? Pulling one of those double-blinds he so loved to do? Were we manipulated too? I know he believed he was going to die. I know everything he told us came from his heart - a heart we finally really saw. Was there something more to the sepulchers? He worked for nearly 20 yrs. to locate them all and bring them here. His obsession cost lives. He also knew what could happen if the sepulchers were combined with a weakening portal. Tho' we didn't know the portal was here - I'd bet Derek's precept's ring that he did. It doesn't make sense. The bastards know something. I swear I'll find out one day, even if it takes 30 yrs. and I have to become Ruling Precept myself to do it. I won't let you down, Derek. I swear by my soul and this ring.
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