Twenty –Three minutes later, Sam met Halsey outside the huge double doors at the entrance to the main atrium. This room wasn’t used often, only when the Secret Chiefs were holding court. Halsey straightened her glasses as Sam approached. She still wore her white lab coat, with the Eye in Triangle stitched above the jacket pocket. She checked the data on the tablet once more before Sam reached her. He checked his watch, and opened his mouth as if to speak, before the red eye above the doorway turned green with a pleasant “ding!” He closed his mouth as the doors opened. Halsey, Sam, and the group of others waiting outside shuffled into the room in silence.
The atrium was a large room, with a high, domed ceiling consisting of ultra-slim nano display filament, which could be used the same way as any screen or projector. As they entered, constellations adorned the ceiling, wheeling by with various astrological symbols accompanying the appropriate stellar formations. They would orbit steadily, zooming in on a particular constellation for closer study, then to each individual star in the system. Different sections of the massive dome displayed two or three different constellations at once. They spun and danced through space, then became distant as the various planets and moons of the local solar system came into view. Sam recognized this as a sort of orrery.
He knew these were of use to the astrologers at High Mountain. They could use it to check future astrological occurrences, to plan the most effective timing for the other projects underway, as well as whatever other arcane machinations they could divine from watching the movements of the stars and planets interact with each other. He and Halsey found their seats at the huge round table which wound around a massive open space in the middle of the room. They sat, and Sam studied the crowd as the others found their seats.
Near the center of the table across from them sat the Secret Chiefs. Seven seats were arranged atop a dais, rising above the rest of the assembly. The highest seat raised above the others, which symmetrically descended like stairs, the lowest level being one level above the general assembly. Behind the dais hung a great banner; an eye in a triangle, blazing like the sun, gazing out upon the planet Earth. The stars of Canis Major were arranged around it, with the Eye taking the place of Sirius. Sam noticed that only three of the seats were occupied; not all of the Chiefs were there. The highest seat was empty.
Once everyone sat and the general sounds of the assembly died down, one of the Chiefs, wearing a black hooded robe with a single golden triangle emblem stood, and beckoned the others to do the same. Sam and Halsey stood with the others, as the floor in the center of the room slid open. A large pyramid began rising, slowly rotating up from below as the Chief spoke.
“Ewige Blumenkraft!” he intoned.
“Und ewige Schlangenkraft!” The assembly replied.
The pyramid stopped rising, and rested with each of its four points directed at the points of the compass. Sam watched as the capstone lifted off, and began to slowly turn, suspended above the rest of the pyramid. It began to project a three dimensional image of the earth, and the Chief spoke again.
“Do as thou wilt shall be the whole of the law!” He bellowed, arms raised as the image on the ceiling turned to one of a mighty and powerful thunderstorm. The thunder crashed deafeningly, shaking the room to its very foundations. The blinding flashes of lightning rent the image of the earth apart, the continents cracking and becoming filled in by the seas as the assembly chanted in reply:
“Love is the law! Love under Will!”
From the center of the earth, a great light appeared, growing brighter, illuminating more intensely with each deafening boom of the thunder, and strike of lightning. Sam averted his eyes, and Halsey’s self-tinting lenses turned dark as she stared straight into the conflagration. Finally, as the light became unbearable, a great serpent emerged from the center of the globe, and coiling around the shattered planet in one great loop, began devouring its own tail. It kept eating until it collapsed into a singularity, and exploded with a massive burst of light, expelling galaxies and nebulae to the farthest corners of the chamber. As the cosmos settled, flaming letters materialized out of the darkness of space. Sam squinted as he looked back to see the word appear:

ILLUMINATI

A massive cheer and applause went up from the crowd as the word turned in the air and disappeared. The Chief leading the assembly was laughing and clapping.
“Oh man!” He said as the applause died down, “That was so awesome!” Murmurs of agreement proliferated throughout the assembly. He threw back his dark hood, revealing his radiant blonde hair and beard. “Seriously,” he said to the hooded Chief next to him, “that was outta sight.” The other Chief nodded sagely and sat down. The blonde-haired man stepped forward from his seat, in front of the podium on the dais.
“Hello, everyone,” he began, “for those who don’t know me, my name is Solomon, and I’m here to gather an update on your projects, so let’s get going.” He scrolled through a list of departments on the screen in the podium and put his finger down, seemingly at random. “Ah, Department of Zeitgeist Direction through Music, let’s start with you.” A man from the floor stood up, wearing a perfectly tailored black suit, with an orange silk shirt beneath it.
“We’ve been working on a variety of different methods by which to manipula—“ he stopped himself for a moment to reconsider the word, “er, direct the minds of the youth toward the goal of the New World Order. As you are already aware, we use various harmonics tuned to the overall chords of creation by which to evoke emotional response from our listeners.” He pulled out a phone and tapped a few times on the screen. The pyramid projector in the center of the room displayed a video of Freddie Mercury, dressed in a Sgt. Pepper jacket singing to an audience at Wembley stadium. Each time Freddie would sing a series of notes, the entire crowd would echo it back. Freddie replied with a simple "Fuck you," satisfied. The man continued.

“The stadium dynamics which we have grown so adept in employing are being used in new ways, to conduct massive occult rituals within the plain view of the general populace. Their enthusiasm and energy is directed into the ritual itself, which ensures a higher rate of success, and more potent return.” The screen switched to a recent Super Bowl halftime show, which was being presented as an ancient Roman virgin sacrifice. “In order to prevent people from becoming enraged at the obvious occult imagery, we usually throw in some minor controversy toward which we can direct the media fervor.” The video froze on a frame of one of the performers flipping off the camera. “In this way, the anger is directed toward a relatively small and comparably insignificant detail of the proceeding, so the sacred purpose of the rite remains intact and unsullied.”
Solomon considered this, stroking his beard.
“Yes,” he said, “That was an awesome show. You guys did a great job. Thanks for the update, but also please send me the full report, as well as the analysis of the lyrics.” The man nodded.
“Of course, as you wish.”
“Very well, moving on,” Solomon said, “Department of Deceitful Iniquity and Misdirection, what have you got for me?” A hunched over man with sunken eyes and long, stringy dark hair stood up.
“Thank you sir,” he rasped, “as you know, we've been heavily involved in the American presidential race lately, and...” Sam stopped listening to the man and turned his attention to Dr. Halsey, who was again poring over some data on her tablet. She whispered to him, as Sam looked down at the display.
“That anomaly caused bigger problems than I expected. We were able to stabilize three of the echoes, but we lost two of them. One died during the incident, the other shortly after.” On the screen, two of the five boxes with humans flashed red. “This sets us back a great deal,” she said with a sigh, and set the tablet on the table. “Five was the ideal number for the project. We'll need more bodies.”
“Maybe not,” Sam said. “who was left?” Halsey looked at him askance.
“What do you mean 'who?'” she asked, focusing on his face intently.
“Uh, well their psychological profiles are still somewhat intact.” Sam said, looking around furtively, finally allowing his attention to rest back on the speaker, who appeared to be finishing.
“...which will summon forth the comet Wormwood from the Apocalypse of John and poison one third of the world's water!” the speaker cried, bursting into cackling laughter.
“Sam, I need you to tell me what you mean by 'somewhat intact.' Do you mean to tell me that the purge didn't work?” Halsey said, urgently. Sam was at a loss for words. “Sam, that would render the entire experiment unstable. It breaks the quarantine, Sam!” Sam noticed that she was turning rather pale. He swallowed and turned his eyes to Solomon, who was addressing the speaker.
“Wow, man. Wow, that is incredibly sinister.” Solomon said, staring at the speaker in a tone that was as baleful as it was impressed. “Fine, though. Next we have the Department of Phenomenological Navigation. Wow, you guys must be new here. What do you got for me?”
Halsey flushed red and stood up quickly.
“We've been synthesizing parallel universes using sensory deprivation chambers, and a neurological cybernetic implant of my own design.” she said, standing up straight and clutching the tablet to the chest of her white lab coat. She looked Solomon right in the eye and continued. “So far, we've surpassed the divulged depth of the Manchurian program, and matched the alter-creation capacity of Artichoke. I believe we can best Monarch soon.” Solomon arched a single, golden brow.
“That's a bold claim,” he said, interrupting. “So what status have you to report?” Halsey continued, emboldened.
“We've succeeded greatly, and nearly breached another dimension shortly before this very meeting.”
“A single consciousness breaching a different dimension is hardly unusual or atypical, Doctor,” he glanced toward the podium. “Halsey.” Halsey immediately spoke up.
“No, it was shared consciousness viewing. One medium, 5 subjects. The one guides, the rest share, and project.” she said, faltering a bit.
“That's just a séance.” Solomon said. Halsey appeared to be on the verge of tears. Muffled laughing ran as an undercurrent throughout the room. Sam looked around warily.
“It's not.” he said, standing. His eyes studied Solomon, the light flashing off of his gold irises. “Because we go further.”
“I suppose you're Sam,” Solomon said, checking the dossier, “so tell me, Sam, what does it mean that you go further?”
“We do more. We not only consult with higher beings, we can convert them.” Sam replied. Solomon scrutinized Sam, incredulously.
“You honestly can't be serious.”
Sam stared coldly.
“What's your problem, Solomon?” He asked. The entire hall fell silent. Seconds dragged into hours, time dilated like a pupil in an eye. Solomon's gaze zeroed in on Sam's eyes.
“Betrayal, Sam?” He asked, bemused. “Do you even know the meaning? The heights to which you aspire?” He began walking down the exalted steps, to the lower level of the room.
“I betray no one,” said Sam, moving slowly to get between Solomon and Halsey. “I just don't understand your scrutiny.” Solomon took a few more steps before speaking again, each member of the assembly moving to stay out of his way. He stopped a few feet away from Sam.
“My scrutiny, Mr. Liminal, is that you are utterly unprepared for the expectations of the company you keep.” Sam narrowed his eyes and broadened his stance.
“You don't know what we do, Solomon.”
“We,” Solomon replied, with a sneer. “You mean you and the princess of the lobotomy ward over there?” He said, glancing to Halsey. Sam closed the distance remarkably fast, hooking his elbow around the back of Solomon's neck, pivoting to get his windpipe within constriction range. Solomon slipped away, moved an arm into Sam's face and spun his free arm clockwise while gripping Sam's wrist.
Sam found himself on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. Solomon took two steps backward. “I like you,” he said, adjusting the sleeve of his robe. “We'll do whatever we can to keep you.” Solomon turned and walked back to the dais as Sam stood. Halsey stared intently at Solomon, not even glancing in Sam's direction as he returned to her side. Her face was damp with tears. Her wet eyes glistened in the light.
“We know what we're about here, people.” Solomon proclaimed, as he regained his lofty position. “I trust you all to do it, and not fuck up. Now get back to it.” He turned his back on the audience. The Secret Chiefs walked toward the wall, as a scarlet curtain closed behind them, and the door to the chamber opened. Everyone filed to the exits.