The New Algorithm

Henrietta Van Pelt stretched languidly on the rattan deck chair. The cool breeze coming off of the Persian Gulf Coast to her right hand side tasted of coquitos and salt. Chills rose on her arms as a cloud scudded overhead, the first of many to rush in fill the horizon in the late afternoons at this time of year.  

It was monsoon season, which meant that anyone who'd ever been caught out in the thundering rain took notice of that single flicker of shadow. The brief chill it brought was like ice-water in the faces of the locals, a fifteen minute warning to get someplace warm and dry.  

With the fluidity that comes from muscle memory, Henry wrapped her silk robe around herself as she sat up. She turned to the left, the ocean to her back, and slid her feet into her sandals. As she folded her beach towel, she called over her shoulder. "Josie?" 

The world swam and went dark. Henry felt a jostling, and she tried to cry out as rough hands grabbed her. When she awoke, she was surrounded by beautiful women. She was laying on a silken cushion, hands and feet bound together, what felt like a thick rope between her teeth, her eyes darting from side to side, trying to make sense of what was happening.  

Twice more, she lost consciousness and came back to slightly different scenes, having been transported to what appeared to be some sort of hospital.  

In the half-light, she awakened once again. She was lying on a low, white cushion, covered in some sort of warm animal fur, alpaca maybe or sheep. She struggled to a half-seated position, as people rushed in from both sides of the room to aid her. There were people scattered all across the great hall, seated on the dark wooden floor or couched on cushions of every size, material, and color.  

"Josie?" Her voice was a hoarse croak. A woman offered her a cup filled with clear, cool water. Henry drank slowly, languishing in the feel of the cool liquid on her parched tongue.   

The people around her didn't speak any language she'd ever heard, but they were obviously communicating with one another. Their lips barely moved as they made odd whistling and ticking noises, combined with a rushing sound like wind. The combined effect was that of an afternoon thunderstorm, and as she dozed off once more, Henry wondered if she was hearing the sky people speak the language of the monsoon.  

It was black night when Henry blinked awake again. There was only one person seated near her, now, and the room was very dim, with only a handful of low burning lanterns to lend any light to the space. As Henry sat up, she scanned the room and saw that there were dozens of inhabitants of these beds, and that the room was so large as to be palatial.  

Henry knew what had happened, it was not the first time that she'd had a seizure. But, where was Josie? Her emerald eyes gleamed in the low light. She got up on her knees and peered at the nearest faces she could see on all sides. Her sister was nowhere!  

She must have made a noise, because the nurse awakened then. She wrapped her arms around Henry and rocked gently, humming a familiar lullaby. Nearly half the size of her face, huge blue eyes opened and smiled down. She lay Henry down quietly, and Henry, knowing better than to incur the ire of the hospital denizens, curled into the softness of the bed that had been made for her.   

The lavender scent of the pillow and the quiet hum of the nurse quickly stole her senses away again.  

In her dreams, she understood the bizarre language of the Nephilim. She opened her mouth and made a sound like an afternoon thunderstorm, and they answered her in the same way. It was a bizarre music that was equally soothing and unnerving. She got a few questions answered then.  

Her sister had died, swept away in the ocean. When their souls conjoined, it had caused a severe seizure in Henry. The day was always coming that their two souls would have to join on body, they'd always been aware that this was their fate. Henry was surprised to learn that all around her in the room were the others, the ascended ones like herself, whose soulmates had reunited within their breasts on that day.  

The Nephilim were impressed with Henry. Newly Raptured Ones weren't supposed to begin learning Avariel dialects until weeks had passed. Most NRO's didn't gain Fledgling Avariel status until weeks after that. Apparently Henry was prodigious. The Nephilim fussed over her, twittering and tutting like a flock of hens over their little chick.  

Henry was granted a boon then. She was offered a deal that had long ago been promised her. She could go now, ascend into the next life, or she could return to the physical life she'd been living. Her body was going to be used by a twin soul to her own, and she had the option of taking her own twin soul home to that one that now resided in her chest.  

If she did this, there would be three people within her, three voices always present and aware. The voices that she would come to call, her mind, her soul, and her spirit. She would forever be guided by all three entities, and her life would not be an easy one. But, she was willing to go through the difficulty because she understood the ramifications.  

If Henry could live, a triune soul, and manifest a life to be proud of, she would be able to teach others to do the same. She would become a teacher, she would use her gift to help others achieve the healing necessary to join her in this transcendental state. She would use this Near Death Experience, and many others as well, to help people see the way of the universe. She would help others heal their karma and end their own dharmic cycles of punishment misdeed.  

She smiled and nodded her head,  

And gave them permission to send her back now.  

Cold hands grasped her upper arms as she fell forward, gently hauling her back into the lounge chair.  

"I'm sorry, ma'am," the bartender said. "She was dead before they got to her." 

Henry nodded, knowing that this loss was the price that she'd pay for coming back today, and that it would not be easy to recover from the damage. But, she would recover. After all, her twin had been reborn today, within the garden where her own soul grew. And a new algorithm was born that day, as humans sure do the darndest things!  

The Avariel Court still waits.