See Chapter One (Part A) For Disclaimers
"Never you mind," she retorted calmly, blushing a soft pink.
"You should take 'er to the computer room; you'll probably find Alex there. She mentioned she couldn't sleep -- something about the Reverend's mirror bein' a focus fer the time distortions or some such thing. Said she intended t' research a couple of things before hittin' the hay."
Late for an appointment at the church, Phillip left them at the foot of the foyer stairs with Rose cautioning him to be back by noon. For his part, Phillip merely snorted good-naturedly and rolled his eyes.
"Yes, little Mother. I'll be back in plenty of time." He grinned boyishly and headed out the door.
"Back in time for what?" Moira asked. "What's at noon?"
"Derek's called a meeting for this afternoon." Rose led the way into a room Moira had yet to see, pausing thoughtfully beside the righthand wall. This one sporting a long rectangular table with several chairs in the middle and windows all around the backside of the room. More books lined the lefthand wall from floor to ceiling and they looked -- at least to Moira -- to all be hundreds of years old.
At least.
"Probably wanting to wrap up Nick and Rachel's assignment." She looked over at Moira brightly. "And to introduce you to everyone."
Moira chuckled. "Don't you mean introduce everyone to me?"
"Of course! Although I think you've met most of us already."
Before she could respond to that, Rose turned back toward the wall, facing an old world map, intricately carved into it's face and ingraved in what appeared to be gold.
What was she up to?
Moira got her answer a moment later as a beam of red light shot out of nowhere and caught her escort straight in the eye. As Rose didn't appear too worried about it and had even seem to have expected it, Moira turned back to the wall in time to catch the map as it wavered in and out of focus. Before disappearing altogether.
Suddenly there was nothing there; the wall -- map and all -- had simply vanished.
"A hologram." Rose told her by way of explanation.
Oh, Moira thought weakly. Of course.
She now found herself looking into another room, this one as high-tech as the one she had been in last night was low. Computers sat at various terminals around the room, lining the three walls she could see, with the entire right side of the room dedicated to what looked to be a command center of some kind. The lone occupant, a woman, looked up at the sound of their entry, peering at the newcomers curiously.
"Rose? Is something wrong?"
"What? Oh, heavens no, Alex, " Rose assured her. "Just showing Moira around the castle. Phillip said we might find you here."
Alex chuckled richly. "Oh. It's just that you never come in here. . ."
"I know, I know. . ." Rose turned to Moira, her normally light voice was low and full of chagrin as she confessed painfully, "I have no computer skill at all."
Alex nodded her confirmation, coming down off the small tier from the right. "Even less so than Derek. At least they tolerate him!" She favored the tiny woman with a soft smile that took all the sting out of the words. "I'm Alex Moreau." She held out her had confidently.
Moira took it. The dark woman's grip was dry and firm. "Moira St. John."
"Ah," she smiled her sudden understanding. "The reporter Derek was waiting for."
"It would appear so."
"So you've decided to stay?" she questioned hopefully. "I've read your dossier. . .it said that you have advanced computer experience. . .?"
"As long as it takes for you to throw me out a window at any rate. And I know a little. Maybe if I knew what you were working on, it might help." She told her, she and Rose following her up the platform steps.
"Of course. Sorry, I had just assumed Derek would have filled you in. . ."
"Everyone's sleeping. They just got back a couple of hours ago." Rose informed her.
"And I must have arrived shortly after that."
While Alex gave her a brief rundown on the man known as Reverend Hawkins and the colony of New Eden, Moira had to admit that, if everything the woman had said was true, and she had no reason to doubt that it was, she definately was not in Kansas anymore. Not that she had ever been to Kansas. . .
But it's beginning to look more attractive every minute.
"These magnetic disturbances," Alex complained, taking up where she had left off at their arrival, "something about them just doesn't make any sense. . ."
"Phillip mentioned something about a mirror. . ." Rose prompted, peering over her shoulder.
"Yes -- exactly. . .but what I can't figure is how it all ties together. Maybe it has something to do with the way the reflective surface warps light to create an image." Alex shook her curly head wearily, clearly frustrated.
Rose nodded sympathetically, gently chiding the older woman. "You need to sleep, the others are."
"Yeah well, I can sleep later. Right now, Derek wants answers and so do I." She protested, the statement punctuated by yawns she muffled behind her hand.
"That reminds me; Derek's scheduled today's meeting for noon." Rose eyed another yawn pointedly. "That gives you plenty of time to catch some sleep and still work on magnetic theories before the meeting."
"Besides," Moira seconded, "you weren't the only one out there. Maybe the others will have an idea or two this afternoon."
Alex fought back another with little success before reluctantly admitting defeat. "Maybe you're right. With all the minds rehashing everything, someone is bound to catch whatever it is I've missed."
Well, if that wasn't an opening. . .
"How many members are there? Moira wanted to know. "Am I going to be mobbed by a throng of curious onlookers? Should I bring my bat?" Although the words were spoken in jest, still Moira could not help the shiver that ran down her spine at the thought of a crowd of nosy people, spouting endless questions from all directions. But Rose seemed to have anticipated that question, her bright laughter easing the knot of half-formed fears before they could actually take root.
"Heavens no!" she told her, still chuckling. "In fact, I the only two of us you haven't met are Rachel and her daughter Kat. Rachel probably won't be in today; she's the only one of us with a real job."
She must have had a blank look on her face, for Alex took pity on her. "Rachel's a therapist. A psychologist. So she'll have to be checking in with her superiors, finding out what she missed while she was gone. . ."
"And smoothing ruffled feathers?" Moira hazzarded to guess.
Alex smiled in admiration. "Exactly."
Moira just shook her head ruefully. "This is going to take some getting used to." she told them, walking out of the computer room, watching the wall vanish as the approached and reappear once they had passed. "Ghosts, reappearing towns, disappearing walls. . .what next? Elvis, alive and well, working the night shift at the local Taco Bell?"
"Don't worry; you'll do fine. It all just takes some getting used to." Alex chuckled tiredly, echoing Rose's earlier assurance. But it was Rose that landed the zinger, grinning puckishly.
"I wouldn't worry about that if I were you. It's already been done -- and Elvis had left the building!"
Alex rolled her eyes but couldn't help adding, "Besides, we're on an island remember? Nothing's local!"
Moira had decided to follow Alex's example and take the remaining time to catch up on some badly needed rest. But half an hour later sleep continued to elude her as she tossed and turned in the strange bed. She finally got up, realizing she wouldn't be able to sleep until she acknowledged whatever it was that was bothering her. Something surely was, as tired as she felt she should have been asleep the second her head hit the pilliow.
The most obvious thing being her new job with the Foundation.
Or the Legacy, she admitted ruefully, pacing the bare wooden floor of her room.
The Luna Foundation. An organization dedicated to working with both the FBI and local authorities to help solve various crimes. Prominent in their support of numerous crime-prevention programs, the Foundation had been instrumental in unravelling such famous cases as the Boston Strangler and California's own Zodiac Killer.
But Derek had said she would be working predomanently with the Legacy -- and she had so many questions. Not the least of which was just what exactly would be her duty? She knew she was a good investigative reporter and fairly decent photographer but did they really expect her to merrily go off ghost chasing without a care in the world? To battle demons and evil wizards without batting an eye like it was nothing?
She stopped and thought about that seriously. No. No I don't think so. At least not without proper research, preparation and support.
She chuckled to herself. For one thing, Rose wouldn't let them! Now she knew why Father Phillip had called her 'Little Mother'.
Always there to rally your spirits or make sure you don't run yourself ragged. I'll bet she bakes a mean chocolate chip cookie, too. No -- more like fudge brownies. Rather shy and unassuming, still, Moira got the feeling that not even Derek Rayne would stand a chance against her when it was something she really felt strongly about.
Derek Rayne. Now there was someone to be wary of. Handsome, cultured, well read, definately used to giving orders and having them obeyed. Arrogant? Oh no doubt about it; still, from everything she had seen he had certainly earned the right to a little self-importance. She had taken the time to check up on both him and the Luna Foundation before making the trip out here, now she was glad she had. At forty-eight, the man was chairman of the Luna Foundation, president of the Winston Rayne Hall of Antiquities, doctor of history and anthropology -- wealthy in his own right.
Better to be safe than sorry, she concluded warily. I'm pretty sure I can trust him, to a certain extent. . .but he definately bears watching.
Phillip Callaghan. She smiled softly. Father Phillip. Another shy one and as easy to read as an open book. Young, eager to lend a hand, boyishly handsome. Moira sighed at the memory of the good Father standing uncertainly in her doorway. What a pity he's a priest, although Rose certainly seems to be enamered. I wonder. . . But she shook her head, bringing her mind back on track.
Alex Moreau. Hmm. Competent, and very dedicated; certainly she couldn't see a man like Derek Rayne accepting anything less. Determined to find the answers, to get to the bottom of a mystery, no matter what the cost, whether it be due to lack of sleep or some darker reason. Alex reminded Moira of herself in a lot of ways, just from their brief encounter earlier. A strong personality, although Hamilton used the description 'dominant bitch' instead. She hugged herself tightly, reacting to pain that was more emotional than phsyical.
She could have handled the rivalry, even the jealousy; after all, that's what happend when your lover was a fellow colleague.
But not the betrayal.
She had trusted him, and he in turn used that trust to try and trick her into betraying her secrets to the world. He had never loved her -- she had been just another story to him.
Maybe a little more exciting, a little more challanging, but still just another headline. She choked back the sob that threatened to escape her chest, trying to hold back the hurt with physical arms. She kept reminding herself that it didn't matter, that it was all in the past. Only it didn't feel that way. Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
Realizing the path her thoughts were following, Moira shook her head angrily, fiercly willing back the tears. Bloody Hell, I am not going to let that arrogant bastard ruin my life. It's bad enough that he managed to rip my professional appearance to shreds -- I will not let him force me into acting like my life is over. She would not be one of those silly women in a badly written romance novel; finding herself berift and lost without a man. I'm taking back control and if Hamilton Wiseman doesn't like it, that's too bad. He may have won the battle, but the war is still mine.
The decision made, she climbed back into bed, drew the covers up to her chin -- and if her dreams were troubled, at least they weren't of Hamilton Wiseman.
Derek Rayne entered the conference room dressed a little more informally in dark slacks and a navy turtleneck shirt, papers in hand and refreshed from the short nap. The research he had completed after he woke earlier would at least shed some light on a few of the more esoteric aspects of the reverend's town.
Alex should be pleased; some of the information he had gathered would explain the anomalies they had run into out there in the woods around Huntsford.
"Good morning Nick, Phillip." He rounded the corner, taking his accustomed place at the head of the rectangular table, in front of the row of windows.
"Good afternoon." Phillip corrected gravely, the solemn tone belied by the twinkle in his blue-gray eyes as he closed the heavy tome he had been reading. "You know, Derek, that sloth is one of the seven deadly sins."
Derek raised an eyebrow slowly. "Is that so?"
"Yeah Derek, " Nick drawled jokingly from across the table, "we can't have that."
"Indeed." Derek replied, attempting to appear propperly penitent while fighting to keep the smile off his lips. "Then I will simply have to add one more to an already impressive list. Will you pray for me, Father?"
Phillip, who was grinning openly now, merely nodded. "Absolut'ly. I always do."
Just then Rose emerged from the hologram that hid the control room from prying eyes, followed by Alex and Moira, their heads together, chatting away like old friends.
Derek relaxed minutely. Well that took one worry from his mind; he had been a little concerned about that. The two were so much alike that there could only have been two endings to their meeting. Mutual respect or mutual antipathy. And it looked to be mutual respect.
Nick leaned over while the women took their seats and whispered smugly, "I told you there would be nothing to worry about."
Derek stood up, catching everyone's attention. "Well we're all here except for Rachel, who is on the mainland catching up on some unfinished business and hopefully some long overdue rest as well." Heads nodded all around the table and he sat back down, coming straight to the point. "I have come across some interesting information this afternoon concerning the colony of New Eden and the electomagnetic disturbances Nick discovered that I'm sure you will find useful, Alex. It seems that the Reverend Abraham Hawkins was not only a preacher, he was also a witch."
"Don't you mean a warlock? I thought only women were called witches." Nick interupted, puzzled by the reference.
"No, there are both male and female witches. The term 'warlock' really means 'oathbreaker', not 'male witch.' " Rose piped up, a little intimidated by the sudden attention when they all looked over at her.
But Derek smiled at her warmly and her confidence was built back up by his approval. "Quite right. It seems that Hawkins had intended to build a gateway in which to lead his followers into Heaven. Only it didn't work. From what I've gathered from the stories by the local indian tribes and the reverend's own journal, the spell he cast failed to do what he had intended. Instead of a shortcut to Heaven, he found himself flung somewhere between one plane and the next. The Nez Pires of the region call it 'the Void'; a place where evil spirits go to be judged."
Nick shook his head, not understanding the problem. "Why didn't he just cancel the spell when it didn't work?"
"It doesn't work that way Nick." Rose told him, on firm ground here. "When a spell is cast, especially a complicated spell like that one, it has to be unravelled one piece at a time. It's not like erasing the board and starting all over. But he would have had to ancor the spell. . ."
"Indeed he did. Anyone have a guess as to where he would have ancored it?" Derek asked them, glancing around the table. Moira had a guess but said nothing while Alex perked up, snapping her fingers.
"The mirror! That's what I missed, the residual energy traces traped in the mirrors surface."
Derek nodded smiling. "Exactly right. It seems that when he ancored the gate-spell in the mirror, it threw him into the mist."
Nick persisted. "But why didn't he just cast another one to bring them home?"
"I'm not sure." Derek shrugged. "Perhaps he couldn't. Or maybe he didn't know the spell. He certainly did not possess the knowledge he thought he did or else he wouldn't have gotten trapped in the Void when it failed."
"He may not have had the stren'th." Phillip chimed in. "Wouldn't a spell of that sort require a lot of power?"
"Yes it would." Startled, Rose glanced at him. "I. . .hadn't thought about that, but if he couldn't rely on sources outside of himself for power he would have been stranded there until his strength returned."
"Then how did he manage to return at all? And what about the anomalies? " Alex asked, still trying to puzzle it through. To create a whole picture with just the pieces.
"Well, if the mirror was the ancor point for the spell to begin with. . .then it would have naturally become a focal point for any free-floating energy in the Void." Derek spoke thoughtfully. "That being the case, when the colony was transfered from one point to another. . ."
". . .the energy released would have shown up on Nick's analysis." Alex finished excitedly, and suddenly the pieces fit. "And it would have thrown the surrounding electromagnetic fields out of balance being as the type of energy most witches can tap into is incompatable with almost anything magnetic."
She and Derek looked to their own young witch for confirmation.
Rose nodded wryly. "That's why I wouldn't suggest anyone casting any type of spell around their favorite music CD's. It tends to fry just about anything magnetic or electrical."
"Let me guess, the fifty year cycle was how long it took to top off the magical tank?" Nick put in dryly.
"It would appear so." Derek concluded. Sweeping his gaze around the table he surveyed his team with satisfaction and a certain amount of pride. This was what the Legacy was all about; not just the battle against evil, but uncovering the truth. The explaining of the unexplainable.
"Good. Now if there are no further questions, " and there were none, " then I would like to take this opportunity to welcome and introduce our newest member, Moira St. John." Smiles met that last statement which she returned.
" 'Bout time you showed up, Moi." Nick said. "I've only been trying to lure you out here for, what? Months?"
"Yeah, well. . .so I'm slow. Now that I'm here, I'll be sure to keep you on your toes!" Moira retorted.
Nick grinned.
"It would seem you have met everyone already. . ." Derek trailed off, turning the statement into a question.
Moira nodded. "Here and there."
"Yes well. . .perhaps a bit of history is in order. You are familliar with various conotations of the term the 'Sight?"
"Vaguely." She nodded cautiously. "Doesn't it mean the ability to see spirits and things that aren't there?"
"Something like that, yes, although the term itself is not that exclusive. We use it to refer to many different Gifts dealing with the mind. Gifts such as telekenisis and mindspeech."
"Telekenisis." She repeated slowly. "As in moving things with mind power alone?"
"Look Ma, " Nick quipped. "No hands."
Moira glared at him.
"Precisely. I have precognition as well as the mage-Talent. I also have mindspeech as do Alex and Rose. Rose is also a Healer and Alex is a clairvoyant. . ."
Alex piped up. "It's a type of sixth sense. I sense power flows and sometimes the presence of spirits or apparitions."
"Oh. I -- forgive me if I seem lost, but this is all so new to me." Moira told them, at a loss for words.
"Imagine how I felt!" Nick confided with a wry chuckle. "I thought they were all nuts and taking me with them. But it's real Moi. . .all of it."
"What about you Moira?" Rose asked her. "You have something -- I can't quite make out what. . .but it's different from the rest of us."
She noticed Derek was peering at her strangely which made her a little uneasy about answering. But she did anyway, feeling safe in doing so. "I -- I guess I have what you call Sight. I -- see things. Colors that aren't there, sometimes people -- sometimes not. I don't know what your definition of 'psychic' would be, but I get images from things; not pictures really, mostly feelings. Impressions."
The precept nodded confidently. "Empathy. You can sense emotions from others?"
Moira snorted uneasily, making light of it. "You make me sound like Deanna Troi."
"Who?"
"Nevermind." She shook her head. "Bad joke. What about you guys?" She turned to Nick and Phillip. "Any secrets here?"
Now it was Phillip's turn to look chagrined but somewhat relieved. "No. . .I'm just a simple parish priest."
"Don't look at me Moi." Nick told her. "I handle the security around this joint. That's enough for me. I leave the hocus-pocus to the experts."
"It says here in your file that you have some military experience?" Derek mentioned curiously, glancing down at some of his notes. "Would you care to enlighten us on how a newspaper reporter would come by Navy SEAL combat training?"
Moira sighed heavily, embarassed, biting her lip. Clearly reluctant to talk about it but just as glad to change the subject to something a little more mundane. "It. . .was only one day -- an assignment. It was during a period of time when the public eye was on the Navy and everyone was out doing some type of military story or other. I really had no interest in any of that -- I had an easy dozen stories on my desk that I thought were of a much higher priority. Much more important than following a bunch of macho navy dweebs around for a few days." Moira gave Nick a droll look. The grin grew wider and he chuckled.
"But you obviously changed your mind somewhere along the way."
She sighed again, this time ruefully, a small smile playing along her lips. "Not me. . .my editor. He came up to me one morning and told me in no uncertain terms that, being as every other newspaper was running an 'exclusive' on the navy's training procedures, that I had better get my butt in gear and land one of my own."
"And did you?" That from Rose who was looking completely fascinated.
But it was Nick who answered as Moira flushed a light crimson. "She did, only it didn't quite turn out the way she thought it would."
"Oh?" She was not the only one with a talent for making one word speak volumes; clearly Derek shared the knack.
"I'm glad you find all this so amusing." Moira told Nick, leveling an accusing glare at him. Nick only chuckled again, looking not the least bit contrite. "Well, go ahead -- tell him. It's your favorite part of the story anyway."
"She got there, and it was my team she first approached. She thought to get us to talk, pack up her things and head out. Simple. Only our captain had no use for reporters, " he drawled, enjoying every moment, "especially female reporters. So he offered to give her the story she wanted. . ."
"I should have known the fathead had a catch." Moira muttered disgustedly.
"What was the catch?" Phillip wanted to know.
"If that grin gets any wider, it's going to cut your face in half." She told Nick who was chortling to himself.
"Yeah well the catch was that Moira would only get the story first hand, by participating for one full day in every exercise."
Alex was incredulous. "You mean, go through a day of training yourself?"
Moira, having gotten over her earlier embarassment, was now chuckling herself, satisfaction in her grim smile. "I did -- unofficially of course. The old goat thought I would back down, running back to my paper with my tail between my legs. Boy did he get a surprise. . ."
"You followed through with the training." Derek made the question a statement, a certain amount of satisfaction evident on his face while Phillip's grin grew as wide as Nick's and Rose giggled delighted. Alex's expression was an echo of her own grim smile.
"I hope you gave as good as you got." She told her.
"Not only that, " Nick finished the story, "the only woman, she finished the day third in a class of eight soldiers." He snorted. "Nearly gave old Stoneface a heart attack to have to answer your questions."
"But you got through it and your editor got his story." Derek reiterated.
"I did. And the look on Captain Stonebreak's face was worth every bruise." Moira nodded firmly.
"I can see that you will be a great assest to the Legacy." Derek told her, meaning every word. "That's why I agreed to see you when Nick suggested it."
Nick suggested it? Not sure exactly how to take that, Moira asked a question instead. "What will I be doing? All I know is what I've read about the Luna Foundation and it's clear from this one meeting that the Legacy has nothing to do with that."
He chuckled. "Yes and no. The Luna Foundation does a lot of work with local, state and federal authorities along the lines of research and lab work. The lab work we either perform ourselves or send out to the appropriate medical facilities for analysis. The research is handled here, usually either by Nick or Alex, via the computer systems in the control room. The Legacy simply handles things a little more -- esoteric. In fact, I'd like you to help Alex on this next assignment."
"What's up?" Alex questioned, peering up from joting down notes, presumably still regarding the reverend's mirror.
"Nothing too exciting, " He assured them both. "Merely a request from the San Fransisco police department. They're asking for the Foundation's help in gathering information on the latest series of murders on the university campus." Pausing in the narration, he smiled wryly. "It seems they have one suspect in custody -- and he insists that one of his victims have come back from the dead. . ."
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