Crisscross

As he emptied his pockets, he looked beyond her and saw other gray uniformed people of all ages bustling around the two-story lobby—

Lobby… right. That was what it was. This place hadn't been built as a church or temple; it looked like a hotel. A balcony ran along the rear wall. A closer look revealed a lot of old Art Deco touches still hanging on; enough so you might expect to see George Raft or William Powell hanging out near the registration desk.

Instead, with all these uniforms passing back and forth, he felt as if he'd wandered into a Trekkie convention.

"Do you wear the uniforms all the time?"

"Oh, no sir. Only in the temple—and traveling to and from, of course."

"Of course."

He saw a uniformed woman enter and walk to the turnstile. She swiped a card through a slot, waited a couple of seconds, then pushed through.

Jack put on a smile. "You take MetroCard here?"

Christy giggled. "Oh, no. After you reach a certain level, you get a swipe card that's coded into our computers. See that Temple Paladin over there?"

Jack spotted a burly man seated in a kiosk a dozen feet away. His jacket was like Christy's but deep red, almost purple.

"When you use the card your face pops up on his screen and he lets you through." She smiled apologetically at Jack. "But newcomers like you, I'm afraid, have to go through here."

For the second time in as many hours Jack stepped through a metal detector. As he retrieved his change and watch, Christy picked up a phone and mumbled something into it. She hung up and gri

"Someone will be here soon to escort you to one of the interview rooms."

"Who?"

"Atoor."

She said it the way some women still said "Bill Clinton."

6

A few minutes later a good-looking guy, maybe thirty, approached and extended his hand.

"Welcome to our Church," he said, smiling like everyone else Jack had seen. "I'm Atoor and I'll guide you through the introductory phase."

Jack shook the guy's hand. "Jack. Jack Farrell. Pardon me, but did you say your name was Atoor?"

"It's my xelton's name."

"He's Fifth Rung," Christy said, beaming up at him with a gaga look. "He has powers"

Atoor had a good build, brush-cut blond hair, a fresh-scrubbed face, and an air of confidence and serenity. If he had any powers, they weren't showing. But he made an excellent poster boy for Dormentalism.

Christy gave Jack a friendly little wave. "Bye."

"Live long and prosper," Jack said.

Atoor led the way toward the left rear of the lobby. "What brings you to our Church?"

Jack had been expecting this. On the way over he'd rehearsed a mixture of fact and fabrication.

"Well, I was raised Presbyterian but that never gave me what I needed. I've tried a number of things but I still feel walled in, like I'm marking time, not going anywhere. I think there's more to me than what I've seen so far. I'd like to open myself up and, you know, achieve my full potential."

Atoor's smile widened. "Then you've come to the right place. You've just made a decision that will change your life forever—and only for the better. You'll be more fulfilled, more satisfied, even healthier than you've ever been. You're taking the first step toward unlimited potential."

Jack couldn't detect a single false note. A true believer.

"I hope so. I've tried Transcendental Meditation and Buddhism, even Scientology, but none of them lived up to their promises. Then I read The Book ofHokano and…"

"And lightning struck, right? That's what happened to me. I read it and thought here is the answer I've been looking for."

"But I've got questions…"

"Of course you do. The Book is confusing to those who have a dormant xelton. But once it is awakened and you've started the ladder toward fusion, it all becomes crystal clear."

"I can hardly wait."

Atoor led him down a short hall, then ushered him into a small office furnished with a three-drawer file cabinet and two chairs flanking a small table. He closed the door and directed Jack to a seat while he pulled a folder from the filing cabinet. Seating himself opposite Jack, he opened the folder and pushed it across the table.

"Okay, Jack. The first step is for you to tell us about yourself."

Nice way of saying, Fill out these application forms so we can get the lowdown on you.

Jack looked down at the forms and frowned. "I have to apply to join the church?"

A laugh. "Oh, no. It's just that the better the Church knows who you are, what your life is like, what your goals are, the better we can help you. We don't want people coming to us with unrealistic goals and then leaving disgruntled because we couldn't achieve the impossible."

Sounded good, but if "the Church" was already promising the sun and moon and stars, was any goal out of reach? He wondered how many were turned away for any reason.

But Jack said nothing. He wasn't here to make waves.

As Atoor watched, Jack filled in the blanks with mostly phony information. He wasn't surprised to see a box for his Social Security number—tracking down members' financial data was probably routine. He made up a number and stuck it in. The only true data was his Tracfone number.

He finished up, leaving only one box blank. Atoor tapped it with a finger.

"Did anyone refer you?"

"No. I don't know any Dormentalists."

"Well, then, might as well stick my name in there—just so all the blanks are filled."

Jack glanced up and caught a hint of hunger in Atoor's eyes. He wanted the headhunter discount.

"Should I put in your real name?"

"Atoor is my real name now. When you reach the Fifth Rung you learn your xelton's name and can choose to use it or not." Pride filled his voice. "I choose to use it."

Jack remembered how Maria Roselli had said that her Joh

He glanced at Atoor and couldn't resist. "I can't wait till / reach the Fifth Rung. I'm going to name my xelton Pazuzu."

Atoor, though still smiling, looked scandalized. "You can't name your xelton. It has its own name."

Jack shrugged. "Well then, I'll rename it."

"That… that isn't possible." Atoor looked like he was having a real hard time holding that smile. "Your xelton isn't some sort of pet. It's had its name for billions of years, since the begi

"No?" Jack put on a hurt expression. "I really like the name Pazuzu." Then he brightened. "Maybe its name really is Pazuzu!"

"Highly unlikely. How is it spelled?"

Jack spelled it for him.

Atoor shook his head. "All xelton names have a double 0."

"Well, maybe we could compromise and spell it with double O's instead of Vs. You know, Pa-zoo-zoo?" He glanced at Atoor's strained but still smiling face. "Or mavbe not."

Jack asked Atoor to spell his name, then printed it in the referral box. That form was snatched away to be replaced by another.

"And here is a simple nondisclosure agreement."

"Why… whatever for?"

"The Church has enemies and at this point you are an unknown quantity, so we must ask you to agree not to reveal anything of what you see, hear, or learn here. Even though you might have good intentions, your words could be taken and twisted and used against us."

Jack had to ask: "Who are you afraid of?"

Atoor's expression darkened. "Just like any movement that seeks the betterment of mankind, Dormentalism has fierce enemies in the outside world. Enemies who, for their own selfish reasons, want to keep humanity from bettering itself and reaching its full potential. A man or woman who has reached Full Fusion bows to no one. And that terrifies the oppressors of the world."