"The Greatest of These is Love"
"These Three Remain: Faith, Hope, and Love. And the greatest of these is Love." "Don't argue amongst yourselves because of the loss of me I'm sitting amongst yourselves Don't think you can't see me Don't argue amongst yourselves Because of the loss of me I haven't gone anywhere but out of my body" -Afro Celt Soundsystem & Sinead O'Connor June 23, 2008 Ranger Station outside Newton NJ 1430 hours Kihn shook his head, blew out a breath, released the tension. So that immediate confrontation, the diplomacy was over. Now it was game time, though the game had become deadly. And so, loping at his best speed, given his injuries, down the hill to the west, Kihn fell back into mission mode. It was an interesting state, a coping mechanism, really, but it worked. Emotions shut down, physical sensations were taken into account, dealt with, and then ignored. His mind became focused, zoned in on what he had to do, now. It was a grim determination, a tension that brought his mind and muscles into readiness to deal with the unexpected, a kind of controlled but hyped up state. At times like this, he could unleash a cold, unfeeling fury that could destroy in ways inconceivable when out of the zone. Kihn had noticed this state in the past, long ago. He'd accepted it, taken pride in it, nursed it to full growth. It had, he thought, kept him alive on occasion. But now, seeing it again in himself, he stopped cold, almost fell off the edge of the rock upon which he'd stepped. It would have been fine, had he kept his momentum; he would have landed on the next rock. But if he simply fell off the edge he might fall between them, twist his ankle, or worse, on the uneven landing. Muscle memory and instinct kicked in even as he saw his predicament, and he dropped to all fours, twisting back toward the rock upon which he'd stood even as he did so. He landed on his front, half slipping off the rock, caught himself, and slipped down to the space between them. Sore side, but otherwise, no further damage. That one had ended all right. Ended all right, and the fall might even make tracking him a little more difficult, but why had it happened to begin with? This self analysis, of course. Even as he'd thought about his being in the zone, he'd pulled out of it to ponder the irrelevancy, and that distraction had almost brought him harm. He couldn't afford that. And yet, as he regained his bearings, he realized that he couldn't afford the zone, any more, at least not in the form in which he'd known it in the past. Not as a servant of the Great Spirit, he couldn't. The Great Spirit was an emotional being, and communicated with him emotionally. Were his emotions to shut down, he'd be unable to feel His heart. Were he to focus on taking, assessing, managing, and solving each problem as it came, himself, he would get in the way of the Great Spirit's greater will for Him; in the way of his better way of solving it. No, he had to leave his mind, or his spirit, he guessed would be more accurate, open to His promptings. That might distract from his immediate situation, but the Great Spirit had his good in mind, and not his harm, right? That, and He was mighty to save. So it would be all right. Besides, Kihn reminded himself as he took off again, skirting the next boulder and looking for a way back up, He's made you a woodsman without match. You no longer need to concentrate fully just to navigate through here. Laying a difficult to follow trail is so habitual you don't even have to think about it. Which leaves you time to listen. "To the right" Whoa! on cue. Who would have thought? He looked to the right, and indeed, there was the narrow crack leading up the face, right to the narrow ledge that would take him down to the end of the cliff, and on to his next mark. He smiled, offering a quick thanks, and reached upward for the crack. Too far. Couldn't quite reach it. And he remembered another time, once as a child when he'd been in a similar situation. The race. The first finishers would go on their vision quests. There were no rules other than those lived by on a daily basis. Just start at the beginning, reach the other end of the loop, and finish at the beginning. He'd taken the short cut, and won. He cast about, a little down slope, finding nothing he could use. Then, a rock, appropriately shaped, came to hand. It was a long shot, but if it worked, it worked, and he had nothing to lose. It wouldn't be far to fall, after all. He took the rope from its pocket, wrapped and tied the end around the rock. A few twirls, release, and the rock weighted rope sailed upward . . . and slammed against the rock just to the left of the crack. He almost swore, again. The Great Spirit had taken down the dam he'd built to hold in his emotions, and now they were coming out, the positive as well as the negative. He apologized for the wayward thought, and tried again. A little farther to the right, an over-correction. Had his skills grown rusty? He used to take down hares this way. How had David done it again? Oh yeah. He offered a request for assistance, and tossed it again. This time, it slipped into the crack, and began to tumble downward. Kihn threw himself backward against the rope, pulling it taught, even as the rock reached the narrow portion, lodging in the crack. So far so good. Kihn walked up the wall, gave the rope several good yanks to test it. It would hold, as long as the rock around it did. He began to climb, pulling himself upward hand over hand on the rope while bracing his feet flat against the rock, using the resulting friction to ease his progress. A few steps and he'd reached the crack, wedged a hand into it with his fingers curled backward to prevent him from slipping out, while his toes held the rest of his weight slightly farther down the crack. With his other hand he worked the rock loose, dropped it into a pocket, the rope still tied around it. If he had the equipment, and a delayer, he might be able to lead climb, but without it the rock and rope would be of no use for the moment. He did a rough, one handed coiling job on the rest of the rope, just to get it out of the way, tucked it into the pocket, and rammed his other hand into the crack above the first. All the while he'd been hanging on the bone of his first arm, minimizing muscle weariness. It wasn't a problem to continue upward, hand over hand, foot over foot, in the crack. As the crack grew wider he was able to wedge more of his body into it, first a fist, then a forearm, then his entire torso. Finally he was up to the ledge. He climbed a little farther to where he could step out onto the ledge, and crept onward along the rock face. Now he barely had both his feet on the ledge, his chest pressed against the rock face, and with the pack hanging off his back it became difficult to balance. The ledge only grew narrower from here. He'd have to find another way on. No foot holds presented themselves here, but he could see a series of knobs up above that would serve for hand holds until his feet reached them. He reached up, full extension, grabbed the first. It was at a sort of bad angle, unless he had both hands on it, but he couldn't quite get his feet right under it. He'd have to lean. Off balance, he crossed his right foot behind his left, planting its toes against the rock face, grasping the hold with his left, and throwing his right over to grasp its other side. He was there, and able to release his left foot from the ledge to smear on the vertical rock face again. A pull up with both arms, walking his feet upward, and he was able to reach up to the next. Another pull up, this one with just the right hand, left to the next hold, and on. His feet found the holds, and the rest of the trip to the top of the cliff was a cake walk, so to speak. The cliff should throw the dogs off his scent. It would be difficult for anyone to climb, as it had been for him, and even if climbers came with their gear, they'd have to find where he went up. There were so many cliffs along this mountain side he'd been traversing, it might take them a while. They might assume he'd go for the high ground, and put a team up on-top to begin with, but even then they'd have to find his trail again. And then he'd be up and down various other cliffs a couple more times today. A walk in a creek, some back tracking, a little tree climbing. By the end of the day, he was sure, his pursuers would be as tired as him, if not more so, and almost certainly a little more discouraged. Eventually they'd send choppers to look for him, but they'd be largely useless as long as he wove his way in and out of the dense mixed coniferous/deciduous woodlands here. And he'd almost certainly hear them coming in time to go to ground, if he needed to. Unless, of course, they caught him on the rock, but that was just a risk he'd have to accept. Another prayer, a quick granola bar snack, several sips of water, and he was back on his way again. The beginning of a new life, a new run, a new mission. And this would be his way for the foreseeable future. He'd not heard of one case of anyone escaping Section's pursuit, but how many of those who attempted it had reached his rank therein, his proficiency in field and woodcraft, and committed their lives to the one who directed all destinies toward the good of those that sought him? Probably none. Which meant the teams which would come after him would be dealing with a new kind of quary, and would have to learn the new play book before they'd have a good chance of catching up. And then the game could really get interesting. Psychological warfare was Kihn's favorite exercise, and it would be even better with his use of non-lethal weapons. It would be harder to leave behind an injured man than a dead one, and harder to believe the lies about his having turned to the other side if you saw that he could have killed you, but had chosen not to. Crouching just below a ridge line, surveying the tumbled landscape ahead of him and checking his bearings by the sun, Kihn smiled. He had faith in his guide, hope that He would protect Him, and a deeply satisfying and reciprocated love for Him. Yes, truly, these three would remain: Faith, Hope, and Love, and the greatest of these would be love. Return