“The real meaning of enlightenment is to gaze with undimmed eyes on all darkness.” Nikos Kazantzakis TThe Lazy S Ranch is located on Gros Ventre Road, about fi ft een miles outside of Jackson and three quarters of the way to Slide Lake. Built on the edge of Bridger-Teton National Forest with over a mile of frontage on the Gros Ventre River, it was originally a hunting lodge for a rich banking family that bought the land for peanuts in the late 1920’s. In 1925, a massive landslide upriver had blocked the valley and created Slide Lake. The slide held for around two years before breaking and fl ooding the valley. Those in the small town of Kelly that survived were eager to sell and crazy Easterners were a godsend. Over the years the ranch had been expanded, and now it had 20 bedrooms in the main house and 14 additional cabins. Combined with an assortment of outbuildings and stables, it had proven to be the perfect place to keep the Hermes Project going after the government cancelled the funding. It wouldn’t raise any alarms for a ranch this size to have people coming and going constantly at odd hours. It was also far enough out of town and enough off the beaten path that few people ever drove by without a purpose. The project had been able to hide in plain sight. Walker, through a series of lawyers and interlocking companies, had purchased the property without leaving any clues. For the past four months the only people in any of the rooms or cabins were project members. 226 Rod Pennington & Jeffery A. Martin When the two Jeeps pulled up, as Paula had predicted, they were given a rock star welcome. A group of 25-30 incredibly fit men and women, mostly men, were waiting for them as they drove into the horseshoe circle in front of the main house. When in the “Stroke Belt” of South Carolina—lots of fried food and little alcohol to clear the arteries— Penelope Spence looked lean and fit. Here she felt like an out of shape, overweight lump. “I’m so fat compared to these people I could qualify for handicap parking,” she muttered to Walker under her breath. Walker patted her hand. “You have no time for negative thoughts today. Stay positive and stay focused.” He pushed his door open and stepped out. Lucas Haley opened Penelope’s door for her and escorted her around the SUV where she joined Walker on the curb. A wave of applause echoed off the mountains. Walker motioned for silence, which he instantly received. “As I’m sure you all have already guessed, this is Penelope Drayton Spence.” Another, louder round of applause interrupted him. He motioned for quiet again. “A couple of announcements for those who have not heard, the Hermes Project has been declassified and none of you are wanted by the feds anymore.” Silence. “Apparently all of you have already heard. Moving on.” Walker glanced over his shoulder at Sally Winters who was on her cell phone. She leaned in and whispered in his ear. A broad smile crept over his face. “Here is some news you haven’t heard. In addition to commandeering all of Walker Industries’ aircraft, we have chartered a 737, and it will be arriving here tomorrow. It will be filled with friends and family. Who, I’m sure…” A roar went up, drowning out the rest of his comment. Walker motioned for silence. “But there are some things that can’t wait.” Puzzled expressions covered the faces of all the members of the Hermes Project. “I know this has been a difficult time for many of you, but for some it had to be nearly unbearable.” Walker’s eyes fell on a lean young man with fierce red hair who was 28, but often still got carded in bars. Following Walker’s gaze, the rest of the people turned and looked. “Frank, I wanted to let you know that one of our corporate jets has just gone wheels up. Your long-suffering bride and Trent Allen McCarthy should be here within four hours.” Frank McCarthy was buried under a sea of hugs and back slaps. Penelope leaned over and had to shout in Sally’s ear to be heard over the din. “I don’t understand.” 227 The Fourth Awakening “Trent Allen McCarthy is only four months old.” Winters could see from Penelope’s eyes that it still wasn’t tracking. “Frank has been here for the past six months.” It finally hit Penelope like a thunderbolt. “He missed the birth of his son?” “Let’s just say his wife was less than pleased.” Walker motioned for quiet. “We are expecting a large group of people from The Washington Post here in a few hours.” Walker pointed to a young man in the front row. “Kevin, are the phone connections and Internet access in place?” “Available and will be in place within the hour.” “Stevie.” A Nordic blond with a deep tan stepped forward. “Yo!” “Is the web page ready to launch?” “Absolutely.” “Bandwidth issues resolved?’ “We’re still working on it. Right now we have locked in 80 percent of the projected capacity with server redundancy. We might run slow at times, but we probably won’t crash.” “I want that probability turned into a certainty by 9 p.m. local time.” “That shouldn’t be a problem. If push comes to shove we’ll steal capacity from Walker Industries.” “Guys, you know what is at stake. If we miss this opportunity today it could take us years to get back to this moment. Any questions?” Silence. “One additional point. For the next 12 hours you leave this woman alone.” Walker pointed to Spence. “Don’t tell her your name or distract her in anyway. Right now she is the most important person in our world. Let her do her job.” He looked around at every face in the group. All were confident and smiling. “Let’s get to it.” “Thanks for not putting any pressure on me,” Spence whispered to Walker as he walked past. “No problem.” The inside of the main house was similar in design and style to the Wort Hotel. Apparently, every building in Wyoming was constructed with knotty yellow logs, and every rug and wall hanging was required to have a Thunderbird or other “Old West” design. Walker led the way into 228 Rod Pennington & Jeffery A. Martin the main dining room. It had large heavy tables with knotty yellow logs for legs. A crew of six men and one woman were busy running phone lines and computer cables across the floor and placing them on a long table designed to seat twelve, six on each side. Another crew of three men was running electric extension cords with surge suppressors on the end to each of what appeared to be ten workstations. The crews were quick and highly efficient, with no wasted movement. Sitting at a smaller table was an elderly man with a gray goatee and thinning hair. As Penelope got closer she saw that, while his body looked frail, his eyes were keen and bubbled with mischief. “Dr. Carl Altman, Ms. Penelope Drayton Spence.” “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.” Altman extended his hand. His grip was surprisingly fi rm. Sally Winters appeared with a plate of three eggs over easy, toast, and cheese grits that she placed next to Penelope’s elbow along with a mug of strong coffee with cream. The eggs were prepared exactly the same way as the ones she had enjoyed a few days earlier at the Cracker Barrel restaurant. “I’m really not…” “When she tells you to eat, you eat,” Walker said sternly. Chastened and repentant, she unwrapped a cloth napkin. Penelope removed the silverware that was inside and placed the napkin in her lap. “I’m sure Michael has told you all about the Hermes Project.” “Actually, not very much at all. We mostly discussed previous Awakenings and Timothy Leary.” “I see,” Altman said, a bit taken aback. “I’m sure Michael has his reasons, but they would seem to elude me at the moment.” Michael Walker smiled and said, “Ah!” Running toward them was a young man in his early twenties. “Here’s the reason now.” Altman turned stiffly in his chair and announced the arrival, “My grandson Jerold.” Altman leaned in and said to Penelope, “he could be a brilliant scientist, but he believes he has the soul of a journalist.” Th e old man was obviously proud of his grandson and having him close seemed to give him added vitality. “He’s quite enamored with you.” As he got closer Jerold looked remarkably like a movie star. Unfortunately his double was the guy who played Napoleon Dynamite. All he needed was a “Vote for Pedro” t-shirt. Stacked in his arms were a laptop computer and a small box. 229 The Fourth Awakening “Sorry. I was just trying to get everything perfect.” “Jerold, this is Penelope Spence.” Jerold Altman ran his hand across the side of his pants before extending it to Penelope. It was still clammy. “This is such an honor. Th ose articles you wrote…” “Let’s stay on message, Jerold,” Walker said. “Oh, right. Right.” Opening the box, he placed a stack of documents next to Spence’s breakfast. “What I’ve done is compile some basic background research on the Hermes Project, and the written bios of the major players involved.” Pulling the top document off of the stack he said, “Here is a chronology with a complete timeline of major accomplishments. Next, an executive summary of the project itself, followed by a more detailed analysis.” Spence began reading the chronology and then the summary. “Th ese are excellent, Jerold.” The yo............