It had taken five days, Damascus time, to gather the membership and for them to arrive; the last to appear was a blue-haired, bird-like geriatric named Tess; spry as a spring lamb and feisty as a terrier, she wasted no time informing Cass that she was eighty-four years of age in one world and a hundred and twenty-nine in her home world. “How old are you?” she asked bluntly, her voice betraying the remnants of a French accent.
“Twenty-five,” admitted Cass.
The little woman’s grey eyes narrowed and became piercing in their intensity. “Fascinating,” she pronounced. “That’s when it usually happens, you see?”
“When what happens?” Cass had asked.
“This!” exclaimed Tess. Regarding Cass’s puzzled expression, she leaned close and confided, “Enlightenment, ma cherie. Enlightenment. True knowledge of the way the world works, insight into the nature of reality.”
“Oh.”
The pale-grey eyes grew keen. “Every religious figure in history achieved enlightenment between the ages of twenty-five and thirtyfive. That seems to be when human consciousness comes fully into its own and acquires a finer spiritual perception. Perhaps it simply takes that long to develop. In any case, it’s a well-documented phenomenon. Look it up sometime.”
“I will,” agreed Cass. “At first opportunity.”
“Knowledge of the hidden engines of the universe and the spiritual foundation of all that exists.” She winked. “Most people never tumble to it, poor things. I find it tremendously exciting, don’t you?”
“I think I’m beginning to.”
Tess grabbed her arm and gave it a squeeze with a bony hand. “You are in for the time of your life, ma cherie. You’ll never look back.” She laughed. “As if one could!”
There were others too-eleven in all, seven ladies and five gentlemen- all of them golden-aged senior citizens who should have been in their dotage, yet all of them full of beans and vinegar and fizzing with rare vitality. It seemed to be the nature of ley travel that not only did it extend life, but those who practised it enjoyed health and vigour beyond any normal expectation. Mrs. Peelstick introduced Cass to the various members one by one as they arrived for the meeting, which would be followed by a gala supper to welcome the new inductee.
After a pleasant tea in the courtyard, Brendan called the group to order, and everyone trooped up to the genizah to observe the ceremony. When the august members had been seated, Brendan, looking dapper in a creamy white suit, took his place beside a raised table on which an unlit candle and Bible had been placed. He welcomed the members and banged his gavel on the table, calling the meeting officially to order. “Before we get to this evening’s festivities, I must ask if there is any new business to be discussed.”
One of the gentlemen-whom Cass identified as Parton-raised his hand. “I have a question about finance,” he said.
“Oh, Dickie,” chided the one called Maude, “you always have a question of finance.”
“The financial health of the society is important, Maude, darling.”
“I agree-which is why I have placed my entire portfolio in Brendan’s capable hands.” She smiled sweetly. “I have more money than God-more than I will ever need, anyway. It might as well be put to good use by the society.”
There were murmurs of “Hear, hear!” and “Most generous” and “Well done” from the other members.
“A full report will appear once I’ve had a chance to ascertain the value of the Williams portfolio,” Brendan continued, “as will an official thank-you from the society.”
Maude batted away the idea like a bothersome fly. “Bosh! I do not need a thank-you-official or otherwise-for something I’m only too happy to do. The society has been my passion for more than half my life, and it is only right that I might in some smaller measure give back to the institution that has given so much and meant so much to me.”
Again there were affirmations of “Hear, hear!” and “Quite right” and “Maudie, you are a treasure” and the like. Cass was touched by the simple sentiment of the exchange.
The old woman gazed around the ring of faces. “Well, I didn’t mean to get up on my high horse and make a speech, but there it is.” Suddenly flustered by the attention, she made a shooing motion with her thin hands. “That’s enough. Let’s get on with the reason we’re all here.”
“If there is no more business”-Brendan paused and looked around the room, then banged his gavel-“done! We will proceed with the induction of our new member.”
He held out his hand and asked Cass to join him before the group. As she took her place beside him, he smiled and placed a fatherly hand on her shoulder. “Fellow members, it gives me the greatest pleasure to introduce to you Miss Cassandra Clarke, late of Sedona, Arizona, in the United States of America. A palaeontologist by training and trade, she brings to our gathering a keen mind, honed in the rigorous cut and thrust of the academy. She brings also a thirst for a more thorough understanding of the universe and its manifold splendours, combined with a healthy scepticism in service to an exacting search for truth.”
It made Cass feel self-conscious to hear herself described this way, accurate though the words were. She smoothed the front of the smart blue dress that she and Mrs. Peelstick had bought for the occasion, caught herself fidgeting, and folded her hands in front of her.
“Cassandra,” Brendan continued, picking up the Bible, “place your right hand on the Holy Bible and repeat after me…” He then led her through a litany of phrases in which she solemnly promised to promote the interests, aims, and objectives of the society; to further the search for knowledge through study and exploration; to use such gifts as she was given and that came to her for the good of her human family; to offer immediate aid to any of her fellow members in need; to provide counsel and contribute to the material welfare of the society and its members; to keep herself in perpetual preparedness to further the quest at every opportunity; to safeguard all that would be placed upon her and expected of her; and, finally, to fight valiantly against evil in all its insidious forms to the glory of the Creator who made and-by perpetual loving care-continually sustains the Omniverse and everything that lives, moves, and has being within it.
With her palm firmly on the Bible, Cass repeated the phrases, mentally agreeing with each one and concluded by saying, “I, Cassandra Clarke, make this vow in good conscience and of my own free will, pledging life, health, and strength to the quest set before me, so help me God.”
As she spoke these last words, it really did seem as if she had taken on a new and different dimension to her personality, indeed, to her very soul. The feeling was confirmed when Brendan handed her an unlit candle and asked her to light it from the larger candle on the table. As she held her candle to the flame, he said, “May this light be a symbol of the Great Light on which you may rely as you make passage through the darkness of ignorance, evil, and death towards the never-ending light of eternity.”
The unlit wick caught, and the candle flared to life with a bright yellow flame. Cassandra turned to face the gathered members once more.
“Ladies and gentleman of the Zetetic Society,” Brendan announced, “please welcome our newest member, Cassandra Clarke.” To the accompanying applause, he shook her hand, and then each of the other members came forward to shake hands and welcome her into the fold.
Then it was over-a simple ceremony, but satisfactory in every regard. Cass did feel as if she had joined a band of fellow travellers and friends on whom she could rely in the days ahead. A fine meal of Syrian delicacies followed-flat bread with hummus, baba ganoush, roast lamb with rice, broad beans with tomato and mint, fatoush, and chicken kabobs-which Cass enjoyed, but not as much as the company of her fellow diners, who all made it a point to approach and offer her special words of wisdom for travelling the leys: wear loose clothing and carry a change of underwear; gold is the universal currency, always have a few sovereigns or Krugerands at the ready; a Swiss Army knife with a corkscrew is a lifesaver; a no-nonsense cotton scarf can work wonders; sturdy, high-topped leather shoes won’t let you down; secure a broad-brimmed hat… and so on.
Each comment was delivered with the best wishes of the giver along with a pledge to help their newest member in any and every way possible. Cass thanked them all for their good advice.
Later, as they were having their coffee out in the courtyard under the stars, Tess sidled up to her. “Smell the jasmine,” she said, inhaling the sweet, heady scent. “Absolutely heavenly.”
“It’s always been one of my favourites,” Cass replied, drawing in the perfume-laden night air. “Ever since I was a little girl.”
“You seem distracted,” Tess observed. “Has someone said something to upset you?”
“No, not at all. On the contrary,” replied Cass quickly. “It’s just…” She hesitated, then confessed, “I feel a
