Beyond Eden Read online

  * * *

  Jaime Richards sat staring through the large picture windows of Il Cappuccino Manuel Caffé at Landstuhl Regional Medical Center, a major American military hospital in Germany. The fog outside was thick, typical for a winter’s day in southern Germany, and she marveled at the extreme contrast between the snowy, dark greens of this landscape and the dusty browns of the desert she had just left behind.

  She still wore the gray Army t-shirt and black shorts they’d given her the day before in Balad. She’d added a pair of black running pants over the shorts and was carrying a gray running jacket because it was a lot colder in Germany than it had been in Iraq.

  For the last six hours she had been poked, prodded, trapped in a claustrophobic’s nightmare of a CT scan machine, wired up for an EEG, had multiple vials of blood drawn for HIV and blood chemistry work-up, had a full physical exam, and been checked for parasites. She thought Kay Clarke had been doing her a favor by expediting her arrival in Landstuhl, but now she was not so sure.

  Upon their arrival at Ramstein Air Base, a large black Ford Expedition had been waiting just off the tarmac. Jaime and Kay Clarke had climbed in the back and been transported directly to the hospital. Once there, Jaime was introduced to a young sergeant who had been tasked to serve as her escort and help find her appointments. Satisfied that everything seemed to be moving smoothly, Ms. Clarke had said good-bye and disappeared.

  Now, six hours later, her NCO escort had left Jaime at Il Cappuccino Caffé while he checked on the status of her tests. As she waited, she savored a foamy hot chocolate with lots of whipped cream—which she felt she more than deserved—while technicians reviewed her results to make sure they had all the data they needed and the pictures were clear. She was thankful she’d rested for those few hours on the flight, because there’d certainly been no time for rest since she’d arrived.

  It was the price of resurfacing into the military. She’d known to expect it; she had willingly submitted—which still hadn’t made it fun.

  In times past Jaime would have been drumming her foot in irritation or pacing manically in front of the window as she waited for others to complete their work, especially since time was of the essence. But over the last three years she had learned patience and the art of relaxation. With a few deep breaths she centered herself and brought her awareness to the room around her. The television in the corner was muted, but a radio behind her blared old rock-and-roll tunes. A young couple sat in the corner, surrounded by potted plants meant to give the café a tropical look, as their young son tried to climb on a chair to bat at giant silk moths suspended from the ceiling. On a stool by the window, a young soldier was working desperately to master a game on his Nintendo DS.

  As Jaime took another healing draught of the hot beverage, she heard footsteps approaching through the doorway from the food service area of the café, an assured gait, not a doctor or nurse, but a gait she recognized. The dress shoes halted a few paces behind her.

  Jaime stood, turned, and smiled broadly. Before her stood her former commander and mentor, Colonel Abraham Derry. A tall, muscular African-American, Colonel Derry was one of the officers on her most admired list. Jaime had been his unit chaplain when he commanded the 57th Corps Support Group in Hanau, Germany. She’d been assigned to the unit only a couple of months before they deployed to Iraq three years earlier, but she did have the opportunity to get to know Colonel Derry, his wife, Eirene, and their three children there on the base in Germany. They’d had an instant bond.

  Jaime soon had discovered Abe Derry was a veteran of Desert Storm and was held in highest esteem by all the men and women who had served under him. He led with a quiet confidence. He had been the one to whom Jaime had appealed in Tallil when she needed to get to Babylon three years before. He’d let her go.

  She hadn’t seen him since.

  His dark brown hair, although close-cropped, was showing a little more gray along the temples. And in spite of his dark skin, she could see the hint of circles under his eyes. He was tired, but he returned her smile and wrapped his arms around her, easily picking her up in a tremendous bear hug. He slowly lowered her to the ground and she stepped back, holding him at arm’s length.

  Suddenly her eyes widened. “You’re kidding me!”

  He was wearing dress green pants with a black zip-up jacket rather than a dress coat, and on each shoulder was pinned a single star. “A general? They made you a general?”

  “Can you believe it?” He laughed. “It must have been a slow day at the Pentagon.” Then he sobered quickly. “How about we go for a walk?”

  Jaime nodded and tossed her now-empty cup into the trash as they left the restaurant. They spoke quietly as they walked up a long, sloping hallway. The walls were plain beige, dotted with framed posters of famous watercolor paintings.

  “I don’t need to ask how you knew I was here,” stated the chaplain. “General Culver, right?”

  “She called me the moment you left her office. As a matter of fact, we’ve spoken twice since you reappeared.”

  “She said you’d told her to keep an eye out for me. But did you ever really expect me to turn up?”

  “Normally, given the circumstances, I’d have said no. But knowing you like I do, I gave it even odds.”

  “You really thought so, even after three years?”

  His voice dropped. “Only because I was fairly certain I knew where you were. And if I was right, you were safe, and all we could do was wait to see if you might reemerge.”

  Jaime paused in mid-stride, confused by his answer. “But how could… where would I… what would make you think… ,” she ventured, treading lightly, trying to put the pieces together.

  He stood stock-still and waited for her to come to the realization on her own. Only when her eyes widened did he nod.

  “You knew where I was? That I was…”

  “In Eden,” he said quietly.

  “You knew?”

  “An educated guess, although I hear it wasn’t an uneventful journey.” He paused, letting his words sink in.

  She dropped her voice to a murmur. “How do you know about Eden?”

  “I was born there,” he said simply.

  Their stroll had brought them to the end of the hallway. General Derry nodded toward the exit door that led to the stairwell beyond. They went down one flight and found the entrance to a small courtyard with a covered porch. It was chilly outside but seemed to be the only place that afforded some privacy. Jaime donned her jacket, zipping it full up as she sat in one of two straight-backed chairs on the porch. Abe, in one of his signature moves, spun the other one around and sat down, his arms across the chair back.

  He was silent, letting her begin to process what he’d just told her.

  Jaime’s first feeling was one of overwhelming relief. She had spent three years in the most extraordinary place, one whose people and lifestyle had marked and changed her forever, yet she was expected to keep it a secret once she resurfaced, to never talk about it or even acknowledge it existed. Now here was this man, one of her own mentors, who was telling her he knew, he understood. He’d been there, too. The weight of the secret was decreased by half.

  Three years ago, when she was invited to enter Eden, her guide, Yani, had explained to her that what the world calls Eden was the one place on earth that exists for the good of its neighbors. She still remembered his exact words: “There is not much coming and going, but former citizens of Eden are at work bringing peace and healing throughout the world. It also is very technologically advanced, because many of the world’s great thinkers, teachers, and scientists have come to lend support to this altruistic society.” So Abe Derry was one of those agents of Eden, using his talents and gifts to work toward peace and healing in the world.

  “I can’t believe I worked for you all that time and you never said anything!”

  He chuckled quietly at her exasperation. “You know I couldn’t.”

  “Of course not,” admitted Jaime. “I
s there anyone else? I mean, anyone else you can tell me about?”

  “Well, of course there’s Eirene.” Abe’s wife of 23 years was a beautiful, petite woman of Greek descent. She was an outstandingly talented sculptor and taught art at a university in Washington, D.C. Jaime had always admired Eirene’s calm sense of purpose.

  “But your children were born here?”

  Abe nodded but was no longer smiling. It was only then that Jaime began to sense that the redness in his eyes was more than jet lag. He was worried and had probably spent many sleepless nights before his trip to Landstuhl.

  “Sir, what’s wrong?” she asked, afraid to hear the answer.

  “It’s Daniel. He’s… missing.” Abe Derry almost choked on the second part. His eyes began to tear, and he stared off into space rather than meet Jaime’s concerned expression.

  At first Jaime was thrown by this revelation. Her closeness to the Derry family and her fondness for Abe’s son Daniel made it difficult to think logically about the situation. As she processed this new information, she began to reach some not-so-happy conclusions about her friend’s teenage son.

  “He didn’t run away,” she said. It was a statement rather than a question.

  Abe Derry shook his head.

  Jaime was thunder-struck. “He was taken. He disappeared very suddenly, in broad daylight, in a public place. You have received no ransom note, and the police have absolutely no leads,” she continued.

  “Yes.” He was astounded at the accuracy of her description. “There have been others?”

  “Four we know of. Each the Terris-born child of a gardener.” The residents of Eden chose to refer to themselves simply as “gardeners.”

  “But who would do this, and why?” His anguish was apparent.

  “That’s why I’m here. The sooner we can answer that, the sooner we’ll find the captives, to include Did.” Did was Daniel’s nickname, earned when his friends and siblings recognized the relation between his initials and how often he took the blame—fairly or not—for screwing up. “Did it” became the standard phrase when any accusation was made.

  But Daniel Isaac Derry was a good kid—not the athlete/scholar that his older brother was, nor did he have the academic brilliance and strikingly good looks of his younger sister. He was the classic “lost” middle kid, who didn’t seem to be notable for anything, at least in comparison with his stellar sibs.

  “When did he disappear?” Jaime asked.

  “Almost two weeks ago. Sunday, February 12. He was at the Pentagon City Mall with friends. I wondered if the timing of this might have something to do with your reappearance,” mused the general. “But how could it? You can’t be an Operative… you haven’t trained long enough!”

  All former gardeners who chose to live in the Terris world were considered agents of Eden, working to effect change in the world. Those known as operatives of Eden were intensively trained and called upon to intervene in specific situations.

  “These are special circumstances, and I have certain qualities others don’t.”

  “No, this is too dangerous. I can’t afford to lose any more people in my life.”

  Jaime took his hand and connected directly with him, eye to eye. “You’re not going to lose me.” She did her best to convey confidence that she was not sure she felt. “And now that I know Daniel is with the group, my resolve is doubled. I swear to you, I’ll do everything in my power to bring him home safely. Besides, with his presence, I’m encouraged about the captives’ ability to survive this ordeal, whatever it may be. Do you recall the story ‘Ransom of Red Chief’?” She hoped to make her mentor laugh.

  “So you think the bad guys might ultimately pay us to take him back?” He managed a half smile at her joke.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised.” She smiled back. “But before I can do anything to help the captives, I have to get out of here. I understand most returning POW/MIAs are subjected to quite an extensive debriefing before being released into the ‘real’ world.”

  “Leave that to me.” He had become, once again, the man in charge. “I have a meeting with the hospital commander in 20 minutes, who is probably, as we speak, getting ready to convene the Repatriation/Reintegration Committee. I’ll make sure your medical tests are expedited and you are placed on leave as quickly as possible, with the promise you’ll return after leave to complete any outstanding requirements. Have they told you what tests remain?”

  Now it was Jaime’s turn to laugh ruefully. “I can’t imagine they can think of anything else. Although I’m told I still face a psych exam.”

  “You’re on your own there,” he said. “That’s the one person who will have the power to hold you here, if deemed necessary. So don’t act suspicious.”

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “As you know, I haven’t spent the last three years communing with the enemy or being brainwashed. In fact, I feel great. Although, speaking of being brainwashed, I can’t help but have noticed that no one from the intelligence community has swooped down here to ‘debrief’ me. Is that your doing as well?”

  “Well, not directly. I believe Ms. Clarke may have used some of her rather significant influence—but I did make a few calls. And the most I can promise about the debriefing is that it is put off until after you have enjoyed a relaxing four-day pass.”

  Jaime smiled at the irony of the idea she’d be spending a restful four days.

  “Where did you wake up?” Abe asked.

  “Just across the Iranian border. With a family of goat herders.”

  That finally brought the chuckle Jaime had been waiting for. “Gardeners move in mysterious ways,” he said.

  “Apparently,” she agreed. “And, as I found out, so do goats.”

  “So true,” he said, still smiling. “So true.”

  “Sir,” she said, “one of the first things we need to discover is the link between the kids that were taken, other than the fact their parents were from Eden. Let me ask you if any of these names are familiar: Ming Zhou, Paul Mikelti, Ankar or Mary Afzal, or Rebekah Marsdotter, now Rebekah Stevens.”

  “Yes,” Abe Derry said without hesitation. “Those were the people—the gardeners—who traveled with Eirene and me. We all exited during the same door opening, twenty-three years ago. Mary Afzal was expecting at the time.”

  Jaime took a deep breath. “Was that your entire group?”

  “Wait; no, there were eight. One’s missing.” Abe closed his eyes and again went over the names. “Jorgen Ravenson, Terris name… um… Edders. Jorgen Edders.”

  “Does he have children?”

  General Derry shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  “Wow,” Jaime said. “A whole group… compromised.”

  “And with such horrific results,” agreed her mentor.

  They stood and began to work their way toward the door. “Can we meet for dinner later?” Jaime asked. “Assuming, of course, I haven’t been committed to the psych ward.”

  “It’s a date,” he said as they stood and hugged each other once again. “Chaplain, I’m glad you’re back.” She smiled as they broke contact and watched as he turned and headed off to his meeting with the hospital commander.

  “So am I, my friend,” she sighed to herself. “So am I.”

  February 24, 2006, 6:30 p.m.

  Office of the President, Allende International

  London, England

  * * *

  Nestor Allende clicked the button to turn off his videoconferencing screen on the wall and shook his head to clear his vision. Fernando, his assistant, appeared immediately with a new vodka tonic, whisking away the half-full glass of the last one, into which too much ice had melted.

  Nestor was a comfortably large man, not obese by any means but a man whose desires were usually sated. He was in his sixties but seemed 40. His light brown hair was still his own; he looked healthy and vital. He was both.

  “Your wife called to find out when you’ll return to the hotel,” Fernando murmured in a voice
that indicated Nestor could choose to hear the question or dismiss it.

  “In half an hour,” he said.

  “Yes, sir,” and the assistant was gone.

  The content of the recent conference had already completely left Nestor’s consciousness. Business had to be attended to; it was a necessary evil; it was what supplied him with the funds he needed. But he chose each of his lieutenants well. He was a results man; he wanted to see the completed projects, not be bothered by day-to-day details. If you couldn’t pull it off, he didn’t want to hear about it. Make it happen was his mantra when talking to his seconds-in-command.

  But now many years of work and research had finally paid off. The most important of all his projects had come to fruition. No matter what else he accomplished in his life, this would stand alone as his crowning achievement. It proved again that nothing was impossible, given the know-how, the drive, and the funding.

  And given the ability to see the possibilities, the big picture.

  The big picture was the birthright, and the responsibility, of the world’s princes. Nestor’s father, Chiron Allende, had taught Nestor there were two kinds of people in this world: peons and princes. The peons did the work without question; they were easily led. They believed that they had to work hard, five days a week, eight to twelve hours a day, to survive. They started teaching their children this as young as five, when they sent them off to school on nearly the same schedule. Drudgery, day in, day out. They might know there was a wide world out there, but they were workhorses with blinders on, following the same safe path, day after day.

  Whereas the princes knew the secret truth: There were no rules, except those you made for yourself. There was a wide world to be savored, a world of fine wine, fine women, good food. The day came with no self-imposed hours, no schedules, no deadlines. All those things were an illusion perpetuated and bought into by great groups of peons. Some days Nestor worked 12 or 14 hours. Many days he slept until noon and didn’t work at all. He didn’t have to. He had built his empire and trained his lieutenants. He was the prince.