CHAPTER 1

The Dream

"Blessed is he that readeth, and they that hear the words of this prophecy, and keep those things which are written therein: for the time is at hand."

Revelation 1:3 (KJV)

Friday, June 14, 2019

Raymond Barksley was one of the world's richest men, a collector of other people's businesses that had begun in 1986 when he took everything he owned and sold it to buy stock in Microsoft Corporation. He parlayed that first investment into an enormously diversified portfolio of high tech stocks, land, minerals and oil. Always on the lookout for new ideas with a future, he seldom missed an emerging company. After a relatively short period, he was wealthy enough to afford the most egregious mistakes, something he rarely made. He thought often about it, but couldn't remember the day he became financially bulletproof. At 80, he was still mentally sharp, still married to his college bride, loved by his brood of three sons and two daughters, and his growing cadre of grandchildren. He was a stalwart in his church and community and possessed of two handfuls of life-long friends, none of whom were dependent on him. He often expressed amazement to his wife, Dorothy, that for them life had been an uninterrupted walk in the park, and he knew exactly whom he had to thank for it. Raymond Barksley was a deeply religious man.

* * *

Raymond had been unusually pensive throughout dinner, something Dorothy noticed immediately. She waited patiently for the explanation she was certain would be soon forthcoming. Their marriage was one of unusual symbiosis. For nearly sixty years they had confided in each other.

"Dorothy, I received a terrifying report today," he said after they had left the table and were settled in the TV room. Anna, their maid, brought them coffee. After she had left, Raymond reached into a folder he had brought with him and handed her the scientists' report.

Dorothy quickly read the two pages, carefully put them on the table next to her. She put some sweetener in her coffee and took a small sip. Without looking at her husband, she picked up the papers and read them again. Raymond watched her silently, not wanting to intrude on her train of thought.

Finally, she handed him back the report.

"You believe this is actually true?" she asked quietly.

Raymond fumbled with the papers.

"I'm not sure what I believe. The six scientists involved aren't even sure. The data they are receiving is contradicted by every other monitor on earth. The only place where such temperatures are being recorded is at their bore site. They are looking for an explanation. And frankly, they are praying that they are wrong.

Dorothy regarded him closely. She had seen her husband with doubts before and knew that there was something else involved. A thought occurred to her.

"Nevada is a curious place, Raymond," she said in an off-handed manner. "Didn't they do a bunch of nuclear tests out there? Maybe your scientists have hit a place that was affected by those blasts."

Raymond considered her statement, and nodded.

"I remember those tests, near Sand Mountain. I'll ask Sydney Phillips if they had looked into that possibility."

He drank the rest of his coffee and managed a smile.

"Let's put off worrying until we have something more certain. Now, how about a movie?"

They spent the rest of the night on an "ancient" James Bond movie, and had almost gotten the disturbing Nevada bore out of their minds by the time they went to bed.

* * *

Two days later, Raymond came down to breakfast, visibly shaken.

"What's the matter, dear?" Dorothy asked. "Didn't you sleep well?"

"I slept all right ...," he said, then paused, looking to see if Anna had left the breakfast room. "... considering we may have less than a year to live."

"Oh, I'm sorry," he apologized, sitting down at the table, "but I had the most peculiar dream last night."

Dorothy was immediately at attention. She leaned forward, propping her head on her hands, looking at him intently.

"Tell me about it."

Raymond was about to respond when Anna came in with the morning Chronicle.

"Wait until after breakfast, sweetheart. We can take our coffee out into the garden."

Half an hour later they were sitting in the gazebo and Raymond told her about the dream.

"I woke up from a sound sleep and found myself dripping wet. I felt that there was someone in the room, and considered how I could defend myself."

He paused, and let out an uncomfortable chuckle.

"I know this will sound crazy, but I discovered an old man standing near the window."

"An old man?" Dorothy repeated. "Can you describe him?"

"He was short, and thin. He was dressed rather shabbily — jeans and a gaudy orange shirt. He had a full head of white hair, and several days of beard."

"That's a pretty detailed description, my dear ... for a dream."

"That's what bothers me, Dorothy. I don't think it was a dream. I was sitting on the side of the bed looking at him."

"Did he speak?"

Raymond nodded.

"He had a deep, gravelly voice. He called me by name, and he said that I should build a shelter for people of faith where they could live their last months in peace."

Dorothy was startled.

"He used that term, 'their last months'?"

"That exact term."

She leaned back in her chair and gathered her thoughts.

"It's funny, Raymond," she said finally. "I had a thought that was very similar. Wouldn't it be terrible if we humans ended our stay on this earth in anarchy and rage?"

"That would be awful. And I fear that is precisely what would happen if our friends at Cal are correct and the word gets out. The panic would only be exceeded by the hatred, especially in our cities."

Dorothy changed the subject.

"Did you ask the scientists about the nuclear tests?"

"I did, the morning after you mentioned them. There were none done in the region where the bore is placed. It's in an area in the southern Newark valley where the crust is relatively thin."

Raymond paused.

"Phillips dismissed the idea immediately. He said they had considered those tests before they started looking for the site."

Dorothy sighed.

"When do they plan on making their study public, Raymond?"

"They are almost ready. I think it is already finished, but they are afraid of the reaction, not so much of the public but from the scientific community."

"Can you talk them into withholding the report?"

Raymond got up and walked around the gazebo, considering his wife's question.

"I don't know. But I'll certainly ask them."

CHAPTER 2

Decision

"And I will establish my covenant with you; neither shall all flesh be cut off any more by the waters of a flood; neither shall there any more be a flood to destroy the earth."

Genesis 9:11 (KJV)

Friday, June 21, 2019

Six somber men entered the boardroom at Global Ideas Tower, a fifty-story structure a block off of Market Street in downtown San Francisco. It was the world headquarters for Raymond Barksley's far-flung empire. The men, dressed variously from casual to sloppy to dapper, were met by a smiling Barksley and his assistant, Franklin Mosse.

"Welcome, gentlemen," Barksley said, shaking each of their hands. "There is coffee and some fattening stuff over on the sideboard. Help yourselves. I think everyone is here. We'll start in a few...