"Ok, people!" Cody clapped his hands together, calling for everyone's attention. "Thanks for all your hard work today. It's been great to see everyone bonding so quickly — you did a great job of getting the teepees up real fast! Isn't this place great? I love Parashant, I really do. I think I love it a little more every time I come here. Isn't it just the most beautiful place?" He waited for a response. A ripple of nods and murmurs went around the room, punctuated by a few more emphatic agreements.
"Now, here's what's going to happen, ok? First of all, we're going to come around and collect all your phones, tablets, computers, watches, and anything else you can use to communicate with the outside world or subscribe to the concept of time. Don't worry, you'll get 'em back! This is just for the first few days, while you get use to being out here and focusing on communicating and connecting with one another.
Once you're all accustomed to making true, genuine connections with the people here in front of you, it'll be time to start integrating that process into how you interact with the outside world. By the time you leave Parashant, if you commit to what we're doing here, you'll be perfectly capable of connecting openly, honestly, truthfully, and fully with anyone you meet. The divinity in you will be able to meet with the divinity in them, no matter what means of communication you're using."
Sure enough, two of the FireStorm acolytes had started moving swiftly but discreetly among the delegates, carrying wicker baskets in which they collected the devices that people surrendered. "Don't you worry if you don't have your gadgets on you," Cody reassured them all. "We'll send someone to your teepees a little later on. Everything will be kept under lock and key, and that key will be on my person every minute of the day."
Sam's ancient brick of a phone was still in his backpack, but as the basket passed his way he took the opportunity to have a quick look at its contents. He guessed that the cheap, bottom-of-the-range smart phone that stood out among the brand new iPhones must belong to Julia Rose. There was no sign of Purdue's tiny folding tablet, but Sam was not sure whether that was because it was buried under the larger devices, the basket had not been passed to him yet, or Purdue simply had not handed it over. Considering that it was likely to be some one-of-a-kind invention of his own, Sam was not sure whether Purdue would willingly hand it over.
"Later this evening," Cody continued, "right about sunset, we'll bring everyone back here and introduce you to this special, spiritual place. That's when we will start the first stage of our process. Now, I should warn you, it's not going to be easy. Do any of you know how to start a fire? I mean, without matches or paraffin or pressing an ignition switch? Friction. Friction is how you start that kind of a fire. It's hard work. It takes a while. It has to be done just right. Despite what you might have learned in Boy Scouts, you can't just grab a couple of random sticks, give them a little rub together, and expect something to happen. You've got to apply the friction in just the right places, blow gently at exactly the right moment, and give it just the right amount of space to breathe.
For some of you, tonight will feel easy because you've done something like this before — you've practiced mindfulness or meditation maybe, and you've got used to sitting with your fears and discomfort. For the rest of you, it's likely to feel like friction. But trust us. We know what we're doing, and we'll guide you through this. Let us help you through the friction, and we'll get you to the point where we generate the spark and kindle the FireStorm that will ignite your whole life and bring you into contact with the divinity in you."
Chapter Eleven
The horizon glowed a deep orange as the sun descended toward it. There had been no word about the exact time at which the evening's introductory event was due to begin — not that it would have mattered, because all devices that could be used to tell the time were now in Cody's keeping. Sam had asked a couple of people if they knew. Only one, CEO Ethan McCluskey of a social media start-up named Synergize, had seemed to have a clue. He had taken part in Vision Quests and other ceremonies before.
"You're supposed to just feel when the time is right," he'd said, with a finality that made Sam feel utterly stupid. How is that even possible? he had asked himself. How can an entire group of people just feel when the time is right, when they can't even tell what time it is? I'll just keep an eye on the others and figure it out that way.
It turned out that his concerns were unwarranted. As the light changed and began to tinge the valley with gold, the two young FireStorm acolytes emerged from the connection tent, each carrying drums. Sam wondered whether they were twins, they looked so alike — one was male, the other female, but their angular faces were nearly identical and it required a second glance at their athletic bodies to figure out which was which. They both sported long, loosely braided brown hair and wore matching white tunics. As one, they lifted the drums and began to walk around the outside of the tent, beating a rapid, energetic rhythm, an unmistakable signal that it was time for the ceremony to begin.
Unfortunately, Sam's vantage point was from behind one of the scrubby bushes uphill from the campsite, where he was attempting to answer the call of nature. By the time he had finished and scrambled back down the hill, the rest of the delegates were already inside. He looked around for his friends as he stepped inside, but before he could spot them he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Cody. He pushed Sam down onto his knees like the other delegates and stooped to whisper in his ear "Deep breaths, Sam. Just match them to everyone else's and you'll be fine."
Sara walked among the kneeling figures in full ceremonial regalia. She was a spectacular sight to behold. Her long, white robe was streaked with red down the back and emblazoned with the same spiky, angular black sun Sam had seen on the curtains in Las Vegas on the front. Her feet were bare but her toes were decorated with gold rings. A long, heavy chain, hung around her neck and falling almost to her waist, had feathers and crystals suspended from it.
Her dark hair was loose, with flowers and more feathers woven into it, and a delicate filigree ornament encircled her head. She carried a tied bundle of herbs in one hand, which she held for a moment in the flames from the fire pit. It caught light, releasing a cloud of sweet, fragrant smoke. Slowly she circled the room, trailing the smudge stick through the air above the heads of the delegates, chanting gently as she went.
It was not in Sam's nature to feel at ease in this kind of environment, and he took his deep breaths with a certain self-consciousness. He listened carefully to the people around him and tried to synchronize his breathing with theirs, but they were slightly out of sync with one another. He picked one to follow at random, feeling like a pillock as he half-closed his eyes and squinted at the others to see whether anyone else had their eyes closed. He could not tell, so he closed his completely. At least I'll look like I'm getting into it, he thought, even if this isn't what I'm meant to be doing.
The drumming stopped. The tent was silent, apart from the gentle crackle of the fire, the rhythmic inhalation and exhalation, and the faint sound of Sara's footsteps through the sand. "Welcome," she said softly, her voice as warm and inviting as if it had been an individual address. "We find ourselves now in a place of harsh, unforgiving beauty. It is the perfect place to connect with the divinity within you — a place that can be as unyielding as you are toward yourselves, where we must rely on one another and on ourselves without distraction or assistance from the outside world. You will leave here stronger and also kinder, more self-sufficient and less alone."