(Location: South Dakota, Sioux Indian Reservation, remote log cabin of Mahkah (name means Earth. Mahkah is also featured in the 2nd book of he series, The Cataclysm Scroll)

There were three chairs in the room, one, an old oak rocking chair in a corner - the other two were vintage wicker-back kitchen chairs that had seen better days set next to a kitchen table that looked as old as the quaint single-room cabin itself. A freestanding fireplace sat in one corner, flanked on both sides by small stacks of firewood that had been cut during the summer. A cast iron skillet was on the fireplace, sitting next to a cast iron dutch oven simmering, a delicious aroma filling the cabin. A few cabinets held a small countertop with sink, opposite a single cot. The blanket covering the cot was stretched tight, made as well as any Army cadet's that could bounce a quarter. There was no TV, only a radio sitting on the countertop.

Mahkah was preparing his dinner, comprised of sliced potatoes, carrots, a couple pieces of stew meat, diced onions and a hint of garlic. He was dressed in his usual attire, the bottom of the legs of his jeans now a little dirty from his long walk back where he'd been meditating. He'd been sitting on a big rock far back in the South Dakota woods, shown to him over fifty years ago by his benefactor, Wakanda. For over 50 years, he'd used that rock, a place with special energy, as his regular spot to meditate.

He heard a car outside as it pulled up and stopped. He looked out the window to see a man in a sport suit get out. He recognized him immediately as the reporter from CNN, Jack Brannan, who had been instrumental in thwarting the Iranian terrorist attack that followed on the heels of the New Madrid earthquake months before.

Mahkah opened the door, smiled and exclaimed, "To what do I owe this honor? A visit from a celebrated reporter at my humble abode!"

Brannan laughed as he said, "I've been driving around lost, looking for this place for the last 2 hours! Why in Hell don't you live somewhere that's easier to find!"

"Because I don't want to be found by the media!" Mahkah joked back. "But, you're welcome as long as you didn't bring a camera crew!"

Jack looked around in a mocking gesture, as if surprised a van with camera crew hadn't arrived with him. "I guess they got lost! But I appreciate your welcome!" he exclaimed, happy that Mahkah hadn't turned him away, as he'd half expected to be.

"I'm not much for publicity, so as long as the camera crew stays lost, you're welcome at my place anytime, Mr. Brannan. Please, come in," Mahkah gestured with a wave of his arm toward the cabin.

Brannan was relieved. He had guessed that the old Sioux was going to tell him to go back to wherever he'd come from, that he didn't do interviews, that he wasn't about to answer any questions.

They walked across a small covered porch and into the cabin. Jack sat down his bag containing a laptop, then looked for a place to sit.

Mahkah noticed Brannan trying to make a decision on which chair to sit on. He said, "Please, have a seat in my rocker. You must be tired from your drive. It will help revive you."

"Actually, I've been sitting for hours," Brannan chuckled. "I can't imagine why I'd want to sit any more, but if you say it'll help rejuvenate me, then I'm game." He took a seat in the old rocker and took a deep breath, noticing the marvelous smell in the air.

"You're just in time for dinner, Mr. Brannan," Mahkah said smiling. "Please join me."

Brannan smiled back and replied, "Just call me Jack, sir, if you don't mind. I'm not much for the mister moniker. And thanks, whatever you're cooking smells great."

Mahkah chuckled and said, "Okay, Jack it is, if you'll stop calling me sir. Mahkah will do just fine. The stew should be done in a little while."

Brannan nodded gratefully as he looked around the interior of the old cabin. He said, "Very neat place you've got here. Lived here all your life?" He noticed that while the cabin was very old, it was impeccably clean. There were no dirty dishes in the sink, nothing on the countertop but a Philco radio. And the wooden plank floor looked clean enough to eat off of. Two small pictures in black and white, appearing to be very old, were hung on the walls; One was an Indian woman standing next to a young Indian boy, and the other was a horse pulling a plow with a man looking to be in his 20's behind it.

"Yes," Mahkah nodded, "it was built by my benefactor's father back in the 1800's. She and I lived here ever since she adopted me in my early years. The cabin has served me very well."

"Is she gone now?" Jack asked, curious about this Wakanda.

Smiling slightly, Mahkah answered, "Yes, she's in the next realm. But we still talk periodically in dreams." He flipped his hand toward one of the pictures. Jack assumed the old woman standing next to the young man was Wakanda.

Jack was intrigued. He asked, "During dreams? I mean, you still talk with her today?"

"Of course!" Mahkah laughed, knowing this would be a strange concept to the average man. "She is very adept there, and trained me well. She is what you'd probably call an angel, or spirit. I've worked all my life to prepare for the jump to that next level."

"I find that fascinating," Brannan said. "There is so much I can't begin to understand." He paused a moment, then intentionally changed the subject and said, "I hope you don't mind me asking you a few questions. I mean, I have lots of questions and I think you're the only person who might be able to help."

Mahkah paused before answering, fairly certain Brannan would feel compelled to ask about the 'next level' again, but recognized that the topic had changed. He smiled and replied, "Not at all, as long as I can help you in whatever quest you're on."

As Brannan leaned over to slide his laptop bag toward his chair, he answered, "Quest is an interesting term, sir. I hadn't really thought about it like that, but I guess you could say I am on a quest. I'm trying to save America from war."

Mahkah's expression went from a smile to serious. He nodded and said, "Well, that is quite a serious quest." He paused and added, "I believe that I may share in your quest, although from a different perspective… and, most likely, for an entirely different reason."

Jack took his laptop out of the bag and looked for an outlet to plug it in. He said, "I'd love to hear your perspective, then. And I'll share mine with you. Maybe together we can accomplish great things." He plugged in the AC adapter for his laptop and turned it on.

"Actually," Mahkah smiled, "you've already accomplished a lot. Exposing the Iranian terrorists after the earthquake, you risked your life. And it was because of you that their attack was unsuccessful."

"It wasn't just me," Brannan shook his head. "I had lots of help. All I did was report what I'd learned to my news desk. I actually did nothing to stop the terrorists, like Ty Massey, Bob Armstrong, and all those militia guys in Farmington did on Taum Sauk mountain. They're the ones that risked their lives, and several got killed in the fight. They're the heroes, not me."

Mahkah gingerly lifted the lid on the pot, checking to see how dinner was coming along. Satisfied it was cooking well, he didn't add a log to the fire.

"So, Jack," Mahkah said turning around with a smile, "I don't get visitors very often. You'll have to pardon me if I'm not up to snuff with beating around the bush as you reporters and office types are." He sat down in the kitchen chair, propped an elbow on the table, raised an eyebrow and asked in a direct tone, "So, what can I do for you? Why are you here?"

Jack was taken aback just a bit, the shaman had apparently gone to an all business tone. Brannan paused, organizing his thoughts. Looking down at the file he'd opened on the laptop, he replied, "Well, I've put together a small list if you don't mind me just running down them one by one. Would that be okay with you?"

A grin returned to Mahkah's face and he said, "I'm not much for lists, but if that's how you prefer to do it, try me."

"Great!" Jack exclaimed with a smile, very glad the old man was being so cooperative. "First, I'd like to make sure we're on the same page. I had a chance to talk with Ty and Laura when I was in St. Louis for one of those silly awards the city gave me. She went into pretty vivid detail of how you and her did this dreaming thing, of how you were able to get messages to her during sleep."

"That's a start," Mahkah said, still grinning. "Yes, she's very adept at remembering, and to a certain extent, controlling her dreams. Is that why you're here? To ask me about dreams?"

"No, not entirely," Brannan replied quickly. "She said that the scroll was somehow connected to… pardon me if this sounds strange, but that it was connected to aliens."

"Yes," Mahkah said matter-of-factly. "It was, and still is. That's why it had to be returned to the caves that are now underwater near St. Louis. That doesn't sound a bit strange at all, to me, anyway. Does it to you?" He batted his eyes and tilted his head in question, as a little boy does when he's curious.

Jack knew he'd been put on the hot seat. He wasn't accustomed to such directness, and he was really uncomfortable talking about aliens.

Brannan paused for a moment, then answered, "Well, sir, I've reported on many things through the years. And I can't remember ever typing the word alien before." He forced a polite smile.

Mahkah burst into laughter, fully enjoying the moment, knowing that Brannan was very uncomfortable with how the conversation was going. After a few seconds his laughter subsided and he asked in jest, "It's not a topic that comes into the conversation very often in your office? I mean, during lunch you've never had a discussion about alien visitors in Earth's ancient past?"

"No," Brannan replied quickly, "never."

The smile left Mahkah's face as he leaned over the table toward Brannan, and in a serious tone said, "That's unfortunate… because they're as real as you and me. I would hope that you'd have been more enlightened in this day and age." A small grin and wink accompanied his last sentence.

Brannan hadn't realized it, but he'd been holding his breath. He relaxed at the wink, sighed and admitted, "No, I'm pretty steadfast, locked in the here and now, doing my thing for the news, chasing the almighty dollar."

"You," Mahkah said with a nod of his head, "and everyone else. Man has disconnected from nature, from the Earth, while chasing that almighty dollar, as you said. It's a shame, in my humble opinion, that by doing so, Man will inevitably suffer the consequences."

Jack realized the old Indian sitting in front of him was more intelligent than he'd anticipated. Mahkah may have been old, but he moved like a man in his 30's. Jack had noticed that when the 'old man' had taken a seat on the chair, there wasn't the usual slow bend down, lean over, groan and sit gently as most people his age were guilty of. The Indian had simply glided across the floor from the cookstove like a young man, moved around the chair and plopped down as if there wasn't an old bone in his body. And his brain obviously worked with precision. He spoke well, phrased sentences very adeptly, and was quite astute. Jack immediately liked him, although he'd already admitted to himself that the Indian was quite intimidating, somehow. Jack wondered how much formal schooling Mahkah had because he spoke like a highly educated man. Ty and Laura had told him about Mahkah, but they hadn't prepared him for what he'd found the shaman to be so far… Mysterious, very intelligent, and a little scary.

Mahkah sensed Jack was assessing him, and waited for Jack's next question without saying a word, a small grin on his face.

The smile was very disarming to Jack, but somehow unnerving. He felt as if the old man was looking clear through him, right to his soul. It was almost as if he could physically feel a discomfort in the pit of his stomach, a sense that this shaman was somehow picking his brain without saying anything at all.

Brannan broke the silence and said, "You're a very interesting man, Mahkah. I don't think I'm as mentally prepared for you as I should have been."

The shaman chuckled and answered, "You're doing well, considering. Most people find me intimidating as Hell, but I'm nothing at all compared to how frighteningly powerful my teacher was. She was a woman to be feared. Men, even the tribal elders, used to piss their pants when she walked into a room. They were scared to death of her. I'm nothing compared to that." Mahkah smiled, remembering how people in town would give her a wide berth as she walked down the street, how they would avoid going down the same aisles in the grocery store.

"I wish I could have met her," Jack said. "But the thought of being in the room with both of you is a little unsettling." He smiled and added, "I'm content with being allowed to ask you a few questions, and I haven't wet myself. Yet."

Mahkah chuckled and said, "You might before we're done here." Mahkah's disarming smile, somehow mixed with the tone of what the shaman had just said gave Jack a sense of foreboding.

Mahkah was enjoying the conversation with this reporter, but didn't want to scare him so he changed his tone to a more friendly one and said, "So, enough about Wakanda and myself. Back to your questions," as he pointed at the laptop.

"Okay," Brannan nodded, glad to be able to continue his questioning. He glanced down at his file and asked, "Have you heard about the bombings? Do you have any insight as to who might be responsible?"

"Yes, and no," Mahkah replied, the smile now gone from his face. "I've heard about them on the radio, but haven't given any energy to figuring out who is doing it. I guess we'll have to trust our government to do their jobs, although you can probably guess that I don't have much faith in that happening."

"Yes, I understand," Jack said quickly, "many people have lost faith in government, especially after their handling of the disasters and terrorist attack." He didn't want to go down that road, just yet, and glanced back down at his laptop.

"People are losing faith in many things, Jack," Mahkah said quickly. "And with good reason. We live in a very dark time. Nothing is as it appears, very little of what people are told is truthful. Governments lie to their citizens, the Vatican lies to its followers, truth has become rare, even in this enlightened era where information flows at the speed of light from one side of the world to the other. The problem is, the information is bullshit. Truth, or the necessity of it, has become lost. Or simply covered up."

"Never thought about it like that, but I have to agree with you," Jack nodded. "The old cliché about keeping people in the dark and feeding them…"

Mahkah interrupted Jack's statement, abruptly changing the subject and asked, "So, what else did Laura tell you about me?" He grinned, knowing this would cause a quick reset in his guest.

Jack looked up from the laptop, paused, then answered, "She didn't go into much detail, but apparently both of you had a long conversation about religion. Laura did tell me that at first she thought you were a heretic, but as she got to know you, understood that you just had a different way of looking at things. She declined to elaborate when I asked her about how aliens were tied to that scroll and said that if you and I ever met, you'd explain it to me. That's essentially why I'm here. Trying to understand all this."

Mahkah smiled, stood up and walked to look out the window over the sink. He was thinking back to his talk with Laura that night at the cabin not long ago when she'd wrestled with his explanations of how the creators and owners of the scroll from Earth's ancient past had insisted that it be placed back where it belonged.

"Laura had a difficult time in understanding how aliens are tied to Earth's past," Mahkah said, still looking out the window. "But she finally accepted my explanation and did their bidding. If she hadn't have been successful in getting the scroll back in the underwater caves, the meteor would have hit us."

"That's what she said," Jack nodded. "And she also said that it was responsible for Mount Vesuvius erupting and for that tsunami hitting Hawaii. She implied more disasters would occur if it wasn't put back, and that the meteor's message was from the aliens for everone on Earth to see that they were deadly serious. But that's about all she explained, that I could understand, anyway."

"And so, Jack," Mahkah said turning around looking directly at his visitor, "how do you explain that message that was on the meteor? How do you think the word REPENT came to be on that big rock in space?"

Brannan thought for a moment before answering, then replied, "I guess that I'm with most people, that it was a message from God."

Mahkah had expected that answer, smiled, and said, "And in a manner of speaking, you and all those other people would be correct." The smile went away, replaced by a very serious look. He said, "That's the crux of the issue. The Spirit doesn't do graffiti. While the message was from Him, it was placed on the meteor by his liaisons to Earth."

"The aliens, then?" Brannan asked, trying to understand where Mahkah was going.

"Yes, young man," Mahkah answered, a small smile on his lips, "aliens do graffiti. For our benefit, anyway."

Jack nodded, although he was having a problem at a core level agreeing with what Mahkah was saying. He formulated his next questions and asked all in one blast, "So, who are these aliens? Where are they from? What are they called?"

Mahkah laughed, turning back to the window. "You remind me of Laura that evening when she wrestled with the same mental tug-of-war you are right now." Lowering his voice to just above a whisper, he continued, "They're called the Annanunki. They've visited Earth many times since Man's so-called evolution began. They have been instrumental in our development as a species, and continue to be our caretakers… both of Man, animals in nature, and of course…" he paused, turned back to Brannan and added, "the Earth."

Jack tried to embrace the answers he was just given. While one part of him immediately rejected them as the rantings of an old Sioux shaman, another part of him felt that he was on the verge of a revelation. He didn't say anything.

"What I just told you should feel to you like I just turned on a light in a dark room!" Mahkah exclaimed. He walked over to the cookstove to check progress on the evening's dinner. He bent over, as Jack observed, again like a man in his 30's, picked up a log, opened the door on the stove and tossed it in. He turned around, crossed his arms and smiled ear to ear. "So, tell me what you're thinking!" he almost shouted.

"I'm speechless," Jack said slowly. "Somehow, way down inside my gut, it seems to make partial sense. I saw in an article recently that in 2008, human bones were discovered north of Johannasburg South Africa, fossilized, that were over two million years old. The skeletons had hands like us, a skull like us, walked upright, and by all appearances could have lived just a few hundred years ago. It defies Darwin's theory of evolution. Are you telling me that these Annanunki have been around that long?"

Mahkah was pleased Brannan was at least open-minded enough to continue the conversation. He replied, "I don't know. I don't know of anyone who could answer that question. But I didn't know about the fossilized bones, so thank you for that information." He smiled and continued, "If you check on your Internet, you'll see that DNA was discovered relatively not long ago. Science has only unraveled a small percentage of it, and has no idea what over ninety percent of it is yet. The reason you haven't run out the door screaming in terror is because, somewhere within your DNA, way down inside that brain, you're hardwired to know that what I just told you is correct. Your gut, as you called it, knows it to be fact."

There was a pause, Jack thinking about his next question. "And evolution?" Brannan asked, amazed that their discussion wasn't going anywhere along the lines he'd planned. He felt as if he were back in college, listening to a professor expound in doctoral fashion. He was in awe of this old Indian who had such a command of the English language, of phrasing, of saying exactly what he intended without pause, without really thinking beforehand of what he was going to say next.

"Darwin was wrong," Mahkah said in an absolute tone. "And eventually, when science opens their eyes to reality, his speculation will be proved to have been incorrect. He was the heretic." He walked back to the chair and took a seat. Then he added in an imposing tone, "And that time of Man's awakening may be sooner than you think."

"What do you mean?" Jack asked quickly. "How is Darwin going to be proved wrong, sooner than I think?"

"Because the Spirit isn't going to allow Mankind to blow himself to dust and take Earth with it. This planet is very special, so special in fact that it needs to be saved from Man's idiocy."

"What do you mean?" Jack said again. He felt like was a complete idiot, asking the same question over and over. But he didn't fully understand the point that Mahkah was trying to make.

The Indian sighed, paused and said, "Okay, I'll spell it out for you. The Spirit will not allow Man to harm the Earth any longer, to the extent that if Man needs to be wiped from the planet again, it will happen… before the beauty and wonder of the planet is completely destroyed."

"You mean," Jack asked slowly, "that God is going to kill everyone or something?"

Mahkah chuckled at the question. "C'mon Jack, you can do better than that! Are you an educated man or did I just hear a question out of your mouth that sounded like it came from a 5th grader?"

Brannan was almost embarrassed, feeling as if he was being reprimanded. He quickly shook his head and said, "No, I'm sorry. Let me rephrase that. Do you mean something is going happen to us from direct divine intervention? The Big Man himself is going to do something to punish us?"

Mahkah smiled and replied, "That's better. I knew you had it in you." He nodded once and continued his explanation, "That is a very real possibility, young man. More of a reckoning than a punishment, really. But just as I said that God doesn't do graffiti, I don't get the sense that he's going to come to our planet in person and give us a lecture telling us how irresponsible we've been as a species. He's going to act through agents, as He had in past civilizations, to affect change."

"And those Annanuki are his agents?" Jack asked, trying to sound as if he understood although his mind was still reeling.

"Yes," Mahkah nodded, "they are but one of thousands of agents the Spirit could use." He had a small smile on his face, an expression of tolerance, as if he were talking to a youngster.

"Thousands?" Jack asked. "You mean there's thousands of aliens?"

Mahkah leaned back in the chair and laughed again, as if he'd just been told an incredibly funny joke. He paused, thinking of how to answer the reporter. "Speaking in relative historical terms," the shaman began, "not long ago mankind thought the world was flat. Man learned it wasn't. Then Man believed the sun revolved around the Earth. Man learned it didn't. Then Man believed the Milky Way galaxy was the only one in the universe. Then Man learned that the Milky Way was only one of perhaps thousands or millions of galaxies." He paused, smiled at Jack's expression of disbelief that he was getting a science lesson in this primitive log cabin.

"Are you with me so far?" Mahkah asked, still smiling. "Want me to go on? Or do you want me to shut up?"

"Please," was all Jack could muster at the moment. "I've got to hear more. This is great."

"Very well, then." Mahkah got up from the chair and walked to the stove, lifted off the dutch oven and hurried back to the table, sitting it down quickly. He went to a cabinet and pulled two bowls, a ladel, and two forks from it and returned to the table. He said, "All this talk is making me hungry. Time to eat."

Jack hadn't realized it, but he was famished. "I'm starved," he said, "but we're going to continue our discussion, right?"

Mahkah nodded once slowly as he dished out the stew into the two bowls. "Normally, I don't speak when eating," he said, "but I'll make an exception because you're going to die of anticipation if you have to wait." He chuckled as he pushed a bowl toward his guest.

Jack picked up a fork and said, "You're right, I appreciate you taking the time tonight to go into this much detail. I had no idea when I walked in here that you were going to be so forthcoming, that I was going to get this much information."

"It's my pleasure, young man," Mahkah said as he began eating. "You drove a long way, and the least I can do is allow you to leave with some sense that it wasn't a wasted trip. Now… where did I leave off…"

Mahkah paused for only a second, then continued, "So, now with current technology, Mankind has learned that creation doesn't revolve around us. We've learned that we get smaller and smaller, less important each day, as we discover that the universe has virtually no end. Billions of solar systems, trillions of planets. Numbers beyond our ability to calculate how many there could be." He paused to take a few bites.

"Facinating," Jack said after swallowing a tasty morsel of potato. "And you know all this how? I mean, you don't even have a TV here! How can you have a perception that encompasses things that we're just now seeing out in space with the Hubble telescope?"

Mahkah chuckled and replied, "Ancient societies, tens of thousands of years ago, carved pictures of planets into rock, Jack. How could they know planets, solar system orbits and stars that can't be seen with the naked eye? They didn't have Hubble. They didn't have big fat telescopes sitting on mountaintops. They didn't have satellite technology to call upon." Mahkah paused, looked Jack in the eyes and added, "So you tell me, Jack, how they could know these things? If you can answer that, then you've answered your own question." Mahkah took a few more bites of his stew, pausing to see if the reporter could think it through.

Jack nodded, also continuing to eat. While chewing, he thought back to books he'd read throughout high school and college. He remembered reading 'Chariots of the Gods' a long, long time ago, but it hadn't had much of an effect on his belief system. While he wasn't an avid church-goer, Jack had what he thought was a mainstream belief system - that the universe had been created by a big bang, that life had evolved from amoeba, and that man had somehow been placed on Earth by God in the Garden of Eden a few thousand years ago, like the Bible said.

His parents, who were regular church-going Protestants, hadn't really forced him to go to church with them. But in his early years, he'd been to Sunday school, had been confirmed in the 8th grade, and had pretty much accepted everything that had been taught him about God. But now, sitting here with this old Sioux shaman, he realized that he'd never really questioned everything going through his mind now. He'd never taken time to sit and philosophize on creation, the universe, or God, for that matter. He'd been too busy with his career gathering news. Jack had been so busy, in fact, that he now understood that if he had, perhaps he'd be able to ask questions in something better than 5th grader verbiage.

"You know," Jack began his answering his own question, "I've never really given it much thought. I've just taken for granted that we were placed here on Earth by God, somehow, and that when we die, we go to Heaven if we've lived a good life and not killed anyone or anything like that." He looked up from his food to find Mahkah sitting back in his chair, gazing at him with a stern expression. "I'm sorry," Jack added in a feeble tone, "I just never really took time to think about these things."

Mahkah smiled slightly and replied, "You and millions of others. Don't feel alone."

"So," Jack said, "I didn't answer my own question, because I don't have the tools to reason all this out. Sorry."

The shaman chuckled and answered, "No need to apologize, Jack. I personally don't care if you've given this a second's thought or not. I don't care if you believe in God or if if you're an atheist." Mahkah paused for a moment, dropping his fork into the empty bowl and added, "And it doesn't really matter if you believe anything I'm telling you tonight. Frankly, it won't matter one single bit."

"Why?" Jack asked quickly. "I mean, what if I come out of this with a whole new way of looking at things?"

"Because," Mahkah said with a slight frown, "what is about to be will be, regardless of what you, or billions of others believe, for that matter. Man has had His time on Earth, as he has had five times before."

Jack knew this, he'd learned it in a science class at the university. "Four or five times," he said with a slight nod, "science pretty much agrees that the Earth has been destroyed several times throughout its history. They think the last one was when the dinosaurs died off about 65 million years ago, probably from a meteor strike."

"Yes," Mahkah chuckled and nodded agreement. "And so, Mr. Thinking Man, the Earth is billions of years old. What do you think was here millions of years before the dinosaurs? And even, for the 65 million years or so, between them and current day Man? A million years is a long time, Jack. Even for amoeba and bugs."

Brannan had never thought about things in these terms. He realized that Mahkah was right - that a million years was a long time. "You tell me," he smiled, dropping a challenge for the shaman to accept.

Mahkah realized the game was on. He smiled, got up from the table, picked up both bowls and walked over to the sink and carefully placed them down into it. He turned around and said, "Let's go sit on the porch. A little fresh air will do your soul good."

Jack nodded as he got up out of his chair and walked toward the door leading to the porch. He wondered if the night air wasn't going to be a little chilly.

"Take one of those jackets," Mahkah said pointing at a of couple jackets hanging on a hook on the backside of the door.

Jack was unnerved again. "You read my mind," he said, smiling, as he grabbed one for himself and then handed a well-worn denim jacket to his host. "I would guess this one is yours."

"You read my mind," Mahkah countered with a smile as he accepted it and put it on. "Thanks. Take your chair with you, there's nothing to sit on out there."

Both men carried their chairs to the porch and sat down facing out away from the cabin, looking across a grass pasture into the darkness.

"If I drank, I'd offer you a beer," Mahkah said with a chuckle. "But they'd just go stale because I don't often get guests."

"That's okay," Jack said with a smile. "I need to remember everything from our conversation, so it's probably better alcohol isn't included with the lecture." He glanced over at Mahkah, but could only make out his outline in the darkness.

"It's not important we see each other to continue our conversation," Mahkah said with a chuckle. "I don't need to see your face of astonishment any more than you need to see me making rude gestures at you."

Both men laughed, their voices carrying out into the dark. Jack suddenly became aware of something, although he wasn't sure what it was. His body felt as if some heightened sense of awareness had come out of nowhere. It felt to him if the sound of their laughter had echoed back at them, as if it had bounced off an unseen wall a hundred yards away. He could see the outline of his car in the starlight, but the echo had taken longer to come back than if it had simply bounced off his car. And the echo of the laughter had sounded as if it had some special quality, as if it was more than simply his and Mahkah's voices… as if other voices had been mixed in with it.

Jack got goosebumps on both arms as he tried to reason an explanation of why sounds could echo back at them at all, much less have additional voices blended in. His body went on full alert although he couldn't understand why. He hadn't seen any walls or other structures when he'd driven up to Mahkah's cabin, there should be no rational reason he'd heard the echo at all. The field out before them was perfectly flat, no trees, no buildings to return the sound.

He looked over at Mahkah, who had been sitting silent the last few moments. He could see the Indian's outline simply gazing out over the field in front of them. He couldn't tell if Mahkah had heard the echo or not by his posture, but Jack was certain that it had been loud enough for his host to hear.

"Did you hear that?!" Jack exclaimed, still looking toward Mahkah. "Did you hear that echo?"

"Certainly," Mahkah answered without turning his head. "They are enjoying your dilemma, too."

Jack felt extremely uncomfortable, almost scared. It was if he was a young boy again, hiding under the bedsheets so the monsters couldn't get him.

Trying to retain calmness to his voice, Jack asked, "Who are they?"

Mahkah finally turned his head in Brannan's direction and answered in a flat tone, "They are the spirits who reside in this area. I converse with them regularly, but only after dark. They're too shy to come out during the daytime."

Jack realized that he was getting scared. "Like, ghosts? You mean, there are ghosts out here?"

Mahkah chuckled and replied, "Calm down. You'll scare them away if you react in a negative manner. Simply accept the fact that there are things that exist that you can't see and can't explain away." Mahkah turned his head back toward the field and added, "As you said, you've been busy gathering news. Perhaps you've been so busy that you can't acknowledge there's anything that exists that you can't explain. Maybe, just maybe, there are other aspects to life that Man doesn't acknowledge because he can't understand or see it."

Jack strained to see Mahkah's expression, but couldn't in the darkness. Only the silhouette could be seen, nothing but shadow under the front rim of the old cowboy hat.

"I understand," Jack said a hushed voice. "But I'm really creeped out here! And you didn't disagree with me when I asked if they were ghosts."

"Spirits, young man, just spirits," Mahkah said quietly. "They've been my allies for most of my life out here in the wilderness." Jack could see Mahkah had turned his head toward him and the shaman added, "You said you're somewhat religious, yes?"

"Yes, I was brought up in the church but don't go regularly now," Jack replied.

Mahkah asked, "And your Bible teaches that you have souls that go to Heaven or Hell upon death, yes?"

"Yes," Jack answered, unsure again where Mahkah was going.

"So," Mahkah whispered slowly, "what about all the souls that aren't ready for Heaven, but haven't done anything bad enough to go to Hell? What about all those souls who've chosen to remain here on Earth, simply in a different plane? What if they've chosen to remain near loved ones?"

"You're talking about Limbo," Jack said quickly, thinking before his next question. After a moment he said, "So, your allies are spirits from Limbo?"

Jack's eyes had adjusted to the darkness and he could see Mahkah nod. "In a manner of speaking, yes," Mahkah nodded once again. "But these are just words, terminology that Man has assigned to things. Just because there's a term to describe it doesn't necessarily mean that Man understands it." Mahkah chuckled quietly, enjoying Jack's confusion again.

"You're just doing this to scare me," Jack said with conviction. "There really wasn't an echo, I was just imagining things."

"Choose to believe what you will," Mahkah said smiling. "It's not my job to convince you one way or the other of what awaits us on the Other Side. But I can tell you with certainty, just as sure as you and I are sitting here, that my allies exist."

"I'm not doubting that," Jack said, his pulse still elevated in the dark. "You have to admit I've been pretty open-minded about the aliens, and now about spirits. I'm just in overload right now, I think."

Mahkah chuckled again and said, "I don't doubt that one bit. You're getting more than you bargained for when you got out of that car this afternoon, and the evening's not over yet. But trust me when I tell you that as a shaman, I dabble in realms that would scare the common man to death. Dream manipulation, like Laura is doing now, is child's play. The challenge is existing in the other realms, as well as being here. It's quite an interesting life, and I wouldn't have wanted it any other way."

There was a pause and Jack's heartrate began to slow down a bit. He wondered what other surprises the old shaman had in store for him.

"Sit here quietly, just for a minute or so," Mahkah said. "Close your eyes, breathe slowly and deeply, and just listen to the land. Soak up this moment, let it flow through your spirit. Feel with your entire body, use all your senses."

Jack did as Mahkah requested. Closing his eyes and listening, it didn't take long for Jack to hear something out beyond where his car was sitting. His pulse shot up again. He couldn't tell if it had been a voice talking or someone whispering, but there was definitely something out there in the dark.

Except for that single sound, the night was void of anything else. Jack felt as if he were in a vacuum, no crickets chirping, no birds, nothing that would typically be heard outside.

Jack's eyes were closed as he broke the silence with a whisper, "I think I heard something again. Can't tell what it was though. Is that your allies?"

"Yes," Mahkah answered with a hushed voice. "They will not approach because they know you'll piss your pants, and they're proud of you that it hasn't happened yet." Mahkah laughed out loud, shattering the silence.

Jack laughed with him, opening his eyes to find that they'd adjusted more to the darkness. He looked toward Mahkah and could now see more of the shaman who was leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, gazing out into the night.

"It's okay to talk normal voices now?" Jack asked.

"Yes, child," Mahkah chuckled, glancing at him quickly. "The entities won't feel offended that you're talking normal. They're pleased that you acknowledged their existence and will leave you and I to continue our discussion."

Jack immediately felt relief, glad that the ghost topic was behind them. He'd been scared for the last fifteen minutes and had, for just a brief moment, considered getting his laptop and running to his car. But he'd disqualified that thought immediately, knowing there was still many questions that he'd not yet had an opportunity to ask the shaman.

"So, I can ask you more questions?" Jack asked.

"Fire away," Mahkah replied, looking toward the reporter. "I'm enjoying your company."

Jack thought back to where they'd left off at the dinner table. They'd been talking about the dinosaur extinction event.

"So," Jack picked up where they'd left off, "there were people here before dinosaurs?"

"I don't know," Mahkah replied. "All I know for sure is that a billion years is a long time, more than enough time for visitors from…" Mahkah looked up at the stars and continued, "out there, to have discovered this blue marble of a planet among all the dead rocks in space."

Somehow, this was making sense to Jack and deep inside he felt negligent that he'd never really considered the possibility. He said, "This is making more sense all the time. I'm going to have to do give this a lot of thought, maybe do some research. And, read Chariots of the Gods again."

Mahkah chuckled and said, "You do that, young man. But research with an open mind and don't necessarily jump on a bandwagon without giving it a lot of thought. Ask for answers in your dreams."

"I can get answers in dreams?" Jack asked, knowing the conversation was going another direction abruptly.

"Certainly," the shaman replied. "As you're going to sleep each night, let your question be the last conscious thought. Keep a pad of paper and a pen next to your bed, and the next morning when you awake, immediately write down your dreams before you climb out of bed."

"I had no idea…" was all Jack could say.

"Absolutely!" Mahkah smiled, "You'll be surprised at how many more dreams you'll remember when you actually begin tuning in to your subconscious. It'll be as if you've opened a door that's been there all your life but you've chosen not to open. And it'll get easier with time as you become more adept."

"And this is what Laura has been doing?" Jack asked.

"It's how she began, yes," Mahkah replied. "As with all things, some people are just more adept at specific things than others. It depends on how much you want it, on how much you're willing to work for it. Laura was particularly gifted with that capability, and I recognized it. All I did was point the way… she's done all the work, and is really doing well."

Jack thought back to when he'd met Laura and Ty following the events near St. Louis following the quake. They had been a unique pair, she was intelligent and very capable, he was masculine but yet engaging. He'd found both had an excellent sense of humor, and Jack had been fascinated that evening with what Laura had briefly explained about how a shaman had communicated with her during dreams. Jack had left their company wanting to know more, compelled to track down Mahkah. There had to be a story of interest here, somewhere.

"So," Jack said, "tell me, are you still in contact with her in dreams?"

Mahkah thought a second before answering. "Yes," he replied slowly in a hesitant tone, "but she's in great danger. I've been able to learn the last couple nights that's she being held by two men, probably Russians, that are trying to find the cataclysm scroll." He paused, Jack looked and could see Mahkah's eyes were closed, head tilted up just a bit.

"Kidnapped?" Jack asked quickly. "What do they want with it?"

"The idiots have no idea what they are dealing with," Mahkah replied, eyes still closed. "They think it can be used as a weapon. In reality, all they'd do if they find would be to destroy us all… including themselves."

Jack wondered if there was something he could do to help Laura. He said, "Do you know where they are? Where are they holding her?"

Mahkah opened his eyes, looked toward Jack and replied, "I have a pretty good idea, but there's nothing you can do to help her, young man. We'll have to trust her abilities, judgement…" he paused and continued, "and Ty. But he's got his own set of problems right now, also," Mahkah chuckled, looked into the darkness out in front of them and added, "We'll have to trust Ty to remember a dream where I visited him. That's all we can do."

That sucks," Jack said, frustrated he couldn't take action to help his friends. Then he wondered if just anyone could do this dreaming thing. He asked, "You're able to be in Ty's dreams too?"

"Ha!" Mahkah laughed, "all the time. But he has a real problem remembering them. It's as if he's learning to walk, where Laura's already running."

"I see," Jack said, hoping at least Mahkah could perhaps help Laura in her predicament.

"They've both been in tight jams before," Mahkah said, glancing over at his guest again. "Things will work out the way they're supposed to."

"They'll be okay then?" Jack asked, hopeful Mahkah could somehow see into the future.

"I don't know," Mahkah said quietly. "All we can do is trust the Spirit, their abilities and their own destinies."

"Not very comforting," Jack said, frustrated. "When will we know if they're okay?"

"Soon, very soon," Mahkah replied.

A pause ensued in the conversation. Jack found himself running out of questions without his laptop, and Mahkah was glad to have a moment in order to send both his friends a short prayer to the Spirit, and to mentally send them some positive energy. It was what he'd been doing on his meditation rock earlier in the day.

"I'm going to run in and take a look at my notes on the laptop," Jack said, interrupting the silence.

"Go right ahead," Mahkah said grinning, "and I'll have a quick talk with my allies while you're gone. Going to ask them if they're enjoying watching you overload."

Jack chuckled as he walked into the cabin, "Make sure they're gone before I get back!"

Walking into the cabin, the dim light cast throughout the cottage from a single floor lamp was a welcome feeling of security, somehow. The warmth of the cookstove felt good. And deep inside, he was glad to have escaped the spirits lurking out there in the darkness. Instinctively, he took Mahkah at his word… that there really was something out there.

Without sitting down, he glanced at the laptop's screen. He realized he hadn't ask Mahkah half the questions he'd come for, yet didn't feel like he would walk away without getting lots of answers. He also felt that there was little chance of the shaman agreeing to any type of a formal interview for the news. But he had to try.

Jack walked back outside leaving the comforting light of the cabin behind him. As he sat back down in the chair, Mahkah was chuckling.

"What," Jack asked, paranoid.

"They said you pissed your pants just a little, but not much," Mahkah had a wide grin. "And they promised to leave you alone, at least for the next couple hours."

"Good!" Jack was relieved. "This creeps me out, you know? I'm having a hard time keeping my mind on what I'm supposed to be asking you."

"But," Mahkah said with a straight face looking toward Jack, "you've had many questions answered that your soul yearns to understand. Just because they're not questions on that damn laptop doesn't mean that you come away with nothing."

"True," Jack nodded, agreeing with him. "And I can't thank you enough. But would it be okay for me to ask you a few more before I go?"

Mahkah grinned again, looked out into the dark and replied, "Sure. And then we'll see if they let you leave."

Jack quickly looked in the same direction, goosebumps again popping up on his arms. "Stop that," Jack said in a kidding tone. But inside, he was serious.

"Next question?" Mahkah said with a smile, turning his head to Jack.

"So, I guess I'll just jump to the end," Jack started, growing more anxious to get the Hell out of the spooky situation. "What do the aliens have to do with that scroll? And Laura? And you?"

"That's easy," Mahkah said quickly, "and I can answer it in three sentences. Aliens put the scroll here a very long time ago as a time capsule essentially marking the planet as one of many that they have contact with throughout the universe. Laura was instructed to put it back or they'd have to take action, thus the meteor with the message. And lastly, I simply acknowledged their existence and was called upon to act as a liason between Wakanda, my teacher, them, and Laura." Mahkah took a deep breath and turned his head away from Jack again. "There. Three sentences. Was it worth your drive?" He chuckled.

"So, it's over?" Jack asked. "I mean, are the aliens ever going to come back?"

Mahkah looked up at the stars, paused for a moment, then replied in a hushed voice, "If the Spirit deems it necessary, they will. If the Spirit isn't happy with how Man is living, they may be called upon to take action to remedy things. And if the Spirit isn't happy with Earth's wellbeing under Man's control," Mahkah look at Jack with a serious face and continued, "the Spirit just might take action and forego any interventionists."

"Holy shit," Jack said quietly. "You're talking end of days, Mahkah. That stuff is like, right out of the Bible, predictions, Revelation and stuff."

The shaman nodded once and simply said, "Yes."

"Because of the way we're living?" Jack asked, numb.

"You're the news man, Jack," Mahkah said, looking away with a sad expression. "You guys report nearly every day of some innocent child being killed by its parents, drowning, shooting, tossing their little bodies into trash cans. Life has no respect any longer. It's as cheap and meaningless as it was in medieval days, probably worse."

Jack agreed, "Yeah, it's really gotten bad. Sometimes more than one kid is killed, three or four, because the Mom or Dad is messing around with someone else."

"And it's more than that, Jack," Mahkah said, still looking out into the darkness, "glaciers are melting away, coral reefs are dying around the world, and the oceans are being fished out. Rain forests that give Earth the ability to breathe and replentish oxygen are being wiped flat. And all these problems, are, simply because the planet has too many people on it. You're an educated man… I'm sure you know the world's population was always under 2 billion since time began, which Earth could handle. But now, in the last hundred years, it's exploded to 8 billion, with no end in sight. You tell me, Jack, if you were the Spirit, what would you do?"

"Shit," Brannan replied slowly, "that's hard to answer."

"No it's not," Mahkah said as he looked toward Jack again, "it's simple. You let the planet be destroyed by idiots, or you destroy the idiots destroying the planet."

"But God put us here," Jack said, concerned that Mahkah was making sense. Too much sense for his comfort.

"He didn't put us here to kill the Earth, Jack," Mahkah said in a flat tone, "the Spirit trusted us with a treasure unlike any planet in the universe that we can see. And what are we doing to it? What are we doing to each other? Neverending wars, destruction, unending hate."

The reporter went quiet, unprepared for a discussion with an old Indian about something of this magnitude.

"Life isn't a fairy tale, Jack," Mahkah said with a serious expression on his face. "Not all stories have a happy ending… sometimes, it's necessary that Mankind face the stark reality that the good guys can't always win, that the princess won't always get rescued by her hero… or that the outcome is always one of happiness." He gazed out into the night, looked up at the stars and added, "Occasionally reality turns out to be something other than what we've wished… something other than how we expect the story to end."

Jack's line of questioning was abruptly ended by Mahkah's last statement. He felt like there wasn't a reason to continue the conversation. It was if the wind had been knocked out of him.

Mahkah looked over at Jack, smiled and said, "Oh, c'mon. You're acting like a little child that just got told by your older brother that there was no Santa Claus."

"I'm sorry," Jack said slowly, "but this is serious. I don't know how to write this."

Mahkah looked at him, leaned forward and said in a serious tone, "Let me put it to you another way, perhaps make more sense of this."

"Please do," Jack said, trying to muster a smile.

"For two thousand years, man has been killing man in the name of their own God. Christians versus Muslims, Catholics versus Protestants, and when you boil it all down, a sane man needs to ask why. They all share the same fundamental belief, one Supreme Being. The Muslims have the Koran, Christians have the Bible, and the people in those books have different names, but are essentially, stories and characters that are too similar to justify killing millions of people who've simply chosen to call their prophets by other names. I'm just an old Indian, and maybe I'm oversimplifying it, but I can't fathom why someone can believe it's okay to kill another man because he calls his god Allah, or because his Great Spirit is called God. Certainly, come judgement day, I think everyone who has waged holy war and killed anyone who didn't believe the exact way they do, will have a difficult time justifying their actions."

Jack was intrigued and didn't say a word, but nodded slightly.

Mahkah went on, "I mean, if you were the Spirit, wouldn't you be pissed off that Mankind has been fighting over who's right and who's wrong? Wouldn't you be angry that your name has been used to justify the slaughter of men, women and children for hundreds of years?"

Mahkah leaned back in his chair, turned and looked into the dark. "I would be. I'd ask those souls coming to me asking for forgiveness to explain why it was okay in their mind to kill anyone that didn't believe exactly the way that they did. What's in a name? Why split hairs over what the Great Spirit is called? Why say the Koran or the Bible is better than the other, or more right than the other? The crusades were a tragedy. Jerusalem has been fought over for millennia. Millions dead. And for what? Why? If I were God, I'd really be pissed."

After a moment's silence, Jack said, "I've never really thought about it like that, but I can't disagree with you. When you put it like that, boiled down, as you said, I'd be pissed off too."

Mahkah smiled, stood up and motioned that it was time for them to go back in to the cabin.

"Let's get you back inside, into the light, before you really pee your pants from overload."

"Fine with me," Jack said as he stood up and grabbed his chair. He said, "I'm wondering if there's anything we can to change all this madness… if there's something that can be done to alter the path Man is on."

"There's always hope, young man," Mahkah said as he propped open the door with his chair so Jack could go in. "Sometimes, people do extraordinary things. If the will can be found to change direction in time, then perhaps…"

Both men walked back in to the cabin and set their chairs back by the table.

Jack walked over to his laptop, glanced down at his notes and asked, "I guess it would be useless for me to ask you to come to Atlanta so we could do an interview?"

Mahkah chuckled, sat down and replied, "You'd be wasting your words, yes. I don't do formal interviews… this is it, my first and last. Nothing personal."

Jack nodded that he understood. "Okay, but I had to ask."

"Not a problem," Mahkah said quickly, still with a smile on his face. He looked down at Jack's pants, laughed and exclaimed, "Hey, your pants aren't wet! You're tougher than I figured!"

Both men chuckled, the mood became lighter with the light and warmth of the cabin blended with Mahkah's levity.

"I guess I've used enough of your time this evening," Jack said as he closed the laptop. "I should be going."

"You're more than welcome to roll out a blanket on the floor if you wish," Mahkah volunteered. "At least, wait until daylight so the spooks out there don't get you." He laughed again, knowing it would trigger the feeling again in Jack.

The reporter chuckled, stood up and closed his laptop. "If you'll walk me to the car to protect me, I won't bother you any more." He walked over and extended his hand to the shaman. "You're the most interesting person I've ever met, bar none. Thank you for the insight and enlightenment!"

"It's been my pleasure, Jack. You're welcome here anytime. Please come back." Mahkah stood up, grasped Jack's extended hand and gave him a firm handshake. "And if you see Ty or Laura, please give them my regards. And I hope I've helped you with your quest."

"You certainly have, and I'll tell them hello when I see'em," Jack said smiling, turning to leave with the laptop case hung from his shoulder. "Perhaps I'll come up with an article that can help change things. I feel compelled to try."

"Just leave my name out of it," Mahkah chuckled as they walked out the door toward the car. "If you don't, your bosses will have you committed for writing the rantings of a crazy old Indian."

When they reached the car, Jack tossed the laptop on the front seat and looked across the field into the darkness. He said, "I didn't hear anything out there this time. I guess they're glad I'm leaving."

Mahkah's grin turned to a serious face as he said, "No, quite the contrary. I'm sure they're hoping you can come up with something creative for the news that will help ensure a positive future for all of us. Remember, the pen is mightier than the sword."

"I hope so," Jack said as he got into the car and closed the door. He started the car, rolled down the window and said, "I hope to see you again, Mahkah. And I promise that I'll send you a copy of whatever I write about this."

"Please do," Mahkah smiled, his perfect white teeth shining in the light cast by the instruments on the dashboard. He chuckled and added, "And drive safely. I wouldn't want something bad to happen to you before you get that article written."

Jack smiled and nodded as he put the car into reverse and waved a goodbye. Mahkah stood and watched the car as it pulled out of the driveway, dust stirring up behind it.

"So, my friends," he said outloud into the dark, "please escort that man to his destination and keep him safe. He has important work to do. Lend him some of your energy… he needs it." There was no audible answer, just a sudden gust of a breeze, as if to confirm that, indeed, he had been heard by his allies.