<br><br><center>*The one test of the really weird is simply this― whether or not there is a profound sense of dread, and of contact with unknown spheres and powers; a subtle attitude of awed listening, as if for the beating of black wings or the scratching of outside shapes and entities on the known universe's utmost rim.*
― H.P. Lovecraft
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*Land of the Black Sun*</center>
<br><br>Everyone at least once in their life has a glimpse into reality. I had mine.
I talked, or more accurately, *listened*, to the Canadian ambassador's explanation of the origins of *The Black Sun*.
When he was done, he directed his driver to drop me back at the university in the precise place where he picked me up an hour before.
Superficially, nothing had changed. I got out, said a few cordial words of farewell and he drove off, probably back to Ottawa, to conduct the nation's business behind closed doors.
I picture him in carpeted chambers, speaking in subdued whispers, sealed in secrecy as sacrosanct as a confessional.
<br><br>"You, of course, will be discreet?"
It was a question, more rhetorical than inquisitorial. But after hearing him out, I had no doubt Abe *would* really snuff me to preserve that level of secrecy and I wouldn't blame him.
There are some things you hear, and wish unheard and some things you do that can't be undone. And this was one.
Yes, I was being dramatic, but damn it, that's how it felt.
<br><br>I was a house whisperer, not an investigator and got caught up in a business that stretched me past my limits.
I was glad Abe could close cold cases and shut down the Aryan Brotherhood and their cockeyed conspiracies.
I was glad Esther could sell the house of horrors and receive compensation for treasures the Nazis had stolen.
<br><br>But above all, I was glad for meeting Cindy and having her in my life. She grounded me with her strength and consoled me with her beauty.
But I wasn't cut out for this. I was no hero, but a Prufrock, measuring out life with coffee spoons and unable to bear very much reality.
In short, I was afraid but brave enough to admit it.
So conflicted...and such vast discrepancies in my character.
<br><br>I ended up back in my office feeling drained and exhausted. I couldn't stop yawning.
I needed human company and mercifully at that moment, Nat walked in.
He took one look at my face. "Rough day, Prof?"
"Yeah," I grimaced. "To quote a friend, I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."
<br><br>"I saw the limo with the Government of Canada plates. I came down to talk to you. Then saw them take you away―didn't know if I'd see you again."
Silence fell between us. I hated that.
I wanted to tell him everything but didn't want to burden him for the rest of his life. That would just be selfish.
<br><br>"You don't have to tell me what you discussed," he said finally, "but I want to tell you what I've learned. Maybe it will help."
I smiled ruefully. "Thanks, Nat―you know how much I appreciate you."
He nodded and smiled. "Famous for it."
And the ice was broken.
<br><br>He leaned back in his chair, feet up on my desk, ready to talk.
"I found out the Brotherhood wanted to use *The Black Sun*, first of all for their technology, but when that fell through, they wanted to add them as gods to their mythology."
"That figures," I replied bitterly, "the same way they wanted to turn Esther's house into some kind of Aryan shrine."
"That's right," he chuckled, "*The Black Sun* would be their version of the pantheon of gods on Mount Olympus―as remote as progenitor deities, except the mountain would be up there in Nunavut."
<br><br> "Is there anything these guys touch that doesn't end up corrupted?" I hissed.
He shook his head. "The brotherhood's a piece of work, alright, but I'd say *The Black Sun* has emerged unscathed. Looking back over the documents I can see they're more than pacifists―they're truly ethical. They remind me of the Jains. They respect all life, they're vegetarian and they strive not to harm anybody. They care about the environment, for sure, but their care extends to the whole universe."
<br><br>"No wonder they don't want anything to do with us," I said sombrely.
"On the contrary, the documents indicate they've tried to help us. They gave us computer chips and printed circuits but all our technology ultimately turns into weapons―so they stopped giving. Can you blame them?"
I shook my head I didn't blame them―I admired them, but felt a profound sadness contemplating our future.
When Nat left I closed up the office and drove home and went to bed. I had enough for one day of privileged revelations and insights into our failings.
<br><br> <center>To be continued…</center>
<br><center>© 2020, John J Geddes. All rights reserved</center>
<br><center>[Photo](https://images.app.goo.gl/z6i6LaKzX5D2dBrJ8 )</center>
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