All the way back, in fact, to Osiris. And from Egypt to the Dogon people; and from there to the stars.
"A hit of cognac," Kevin said, bringing the bottle into the living room. "As a toast."
"Damn, Kevin," David protested. "You can't toast the Savior, not with cognac."
"Ripple?" Kevin said.
We each accepted a glass of the Courvoisier Napoleon cognac, including David.
"To the Rhipidon Society," Fat said. We touched glasses.
I said, "And our motto."
"Do we have a motto?" Kevin said.
"'Fish cannot carry guns,'" I said.
We drank to that.
11
It had been years since I'd visited Sonoma, California, which lies in the heart of the wine country, with lovely hills on three sides of it. Most attractive of all is the town's park, set dead-center, with the old stone courthouse, the pond with ducks, the ancient cannons left over from used-up wars.
The many small shops surrounding the square park pandered by and large to weekend tourists, bilking the unwary with many trashy goods, but a few genuine historically-important buildings from the old Mexican reign still stood, painted and with plaques proclaiming their ancient roles. The air smelled good -- especially if you emanate from the Southland -- and even though it was night we strolled around before finally entering a bar called Gino's to phone the Lamptons.
In a white VW Rabbit both Eric and Linda Lampton picked us up; they met us in Gino's where the four of us sat at a table drinking Separators, a specialty of the place.
"I'm sorry we couldn't pick you up at the airport," Eric Lampton said as he and bis wife came over to our table; apparently he recognized me from my publicity pictures.
Eric Lampton is slender, with long blond hair; he wore red bellbottoms and a T-shirt reading: SAVE THE WHALES. Kevin, of course, identified him at once, as did many of the people in the bar; calls, shouts and hellos greeted the Lamptons, who smiled around them at what obviously were their friends. Beside Eric, Linda walked quickly, also slender, with teeth like Emmylou Harris's. Like her husband she is slender, but her hair is dark and quite soft and long. She wore cutoffs, much washed, and a checkered shirt with a bandana knotted around her neck. Both of them had on boots: Eric's were sideboots and Linda's were granny boots.
Shortly, we were squeezed into the Rabbit, sailing down residential streets of relatively modern houses with wide lawns.
"We are the Rhipidon Society," Fat said.
Eric Lampton said, "We are the Friends of God."
Amazed, Kevin reacted violently; he stared at Eric Lampton. The rest of us wondered why.
"You know the name, then," Eric said.
"Gottesfreunde," Kevin said. "You go back to the fourteenth century!"
"That's right," Linda Lampton said. "The Friends of God formed originally in Basel. Finally we entered Germany and the Netherlands. You know of Meister Eckehart, then."
Kevin said, "He was the first person to conceive of the Godhead in distinction to God. The greatest of the Christian mystics. He taught that a person can attain union with the Godhead -- he held a concept that God exists within the human soul!" We had never heard Kevin so excited. "The soul can actually know God as he is! Nobody today teaches that! And, and -- " Kevin stammered; we had never heard him stammer before. "Sankara in India, in the ninth century; he taught the same things Eckehart taught. It's a trans-Christian mysticism in which man can reach beyond God, or merges with God, as or with a spark of some kind that isn't created. Brahman; that's why Zebra -- "
"VALIS," Eric Lampton said.
"Whatever," Kevin said; turning to me, he said in agitation, "this would explain the revelations about the Buddha and about St. Sophia or Christ. This isn't limited to any one country or culture or religion. Sorry, David."
David nodded amiably, but appeared shaken. He knew this wasn't orthodoxy.
Eric said, "Sankara and Eckehart, the same person; living m two places at two times."
Half to himself, Fat said, "'He causes things to look different so it would appear time has passed.'"
"Time and space both," Linda said.
"What is VALIS?" I asked.
"Vast Active Living Intelligence System," Eric said.
"That's a description," I said.
"That's what we have," Eric said. "What else is there but that? Do you want a name, the way God had man name all the animals? VALIS is the name; call it that and be satisfied."
"Is VALIS man?" I said. "Or God? Or something else."
Both Eric and Linda smiled.
"Does it come from the stars?" I said.
"This place where we are," Eric said, "is one of the stars; our sun is a star."
"Riddles," I said.
Fat said, "Is VALIS the Savior?"
For a moment, both Eric and Linda remained silent and then Linda said, "We are the Friends of God." Beyond that she added nothing more.
Cautiously, David glanced at me, caught my eye, and made a questioning motion: Are these people on the level?
"They are a very old group," I answered, "which I thought had died out centuries ago."
Eric said, "We have never died out and we are much older than you realize. Than you have been told. Than even we will tell you if asked."
"You date back before Eckehart, then," Kevin said acutely.
Linda said, "Yes."
"Centuries?" Kevin asked.
No answer.
"Thousands of years?" I said, finally.
"' High hills are the haunt of the mountain-goat," Linda said, "and boulders a refuge for the rock-badger.'"
"What does that mean?" I said; Kevin joined in; we spoke in unison.
"I know what it means," David said.
"It can't be," Fat said; apparently he recognized what Linda had quoted, too.
"'The stork makes her home in their tops,'" Eric said; after a time.
To me, Fat said, "These are Ikhnaton's race. That's Psalm 104, based on Ikhnaton's hymn; it entered our Bible -- it's older than our Bible."
Linda Lampton said, "We are the ugly builders with clawlike hands. Who hide ourselves in shame. Along with Hephaistos we built great walls and the homes of the gods themselves."
"Yes," Kevin said. "Hephaistos was ugly, too. The builder God. You killed Asklepios."
"These are Kyklopes," Fat said faintly.
"The name means 'Round-eye,'" Kevin said.
"But we have three eyes," Eric said. "So an error in the historic record was made."
"Deliberately?" Kevin said.
Linda said, "Yes."
"You are very old," Fat said.
"Yes, we are," Eric said, and Linda nodded. "Very old. But time is not real. Not to us, anyhow."
"My God," Fat said, as if stricken. "These are the original builders."
"We have never stopped," Eric said. "We still build. We built this world, this space-time matrix."
"You are our creators," Fat said.
The Lamptons nodded.
"You really are the friends of God," Kevin said. "You are literally."
"Don't be afraid," Eric said. "You know how Shiva holds up one hand to show that there is nothing to fear."
"But there is," Fat said. "Shiva is the destroyer; his third eye destroys."
"He is also the restorer," Linda said.
Leaning against me, David whispered in my ear, "Are they crazy?"
They are gods, I said to myself; they are Shiva who both destroys and protects. They judge.
Perhaps I should have felt fear. But I did not. They had already destroyed -- brought down Ferris F. Fremount, as he had been depicted in the film Valis.