No man is good enough to govern
another man without that other's consent.

Abraham Lincoln


     Ben decided to take a taxi from Dulles instead of calling one of his friends. As he entered his apartment and walked to his kitchen, he saw the note he'd placed on his refrigerator with a rabbit-shaped magnet. The magnet, he suddenly realized, was the only portable thing that Angela had left behind. His note was a reminder to watch a program that evening. Frank Wilson, his ex-brother-in-law, was going to be on Larry King Live. Something about an NFL scandal, which he hadn't heard about. Ben switched on his set a few minutes before 10 PM, making sure he had the right channel.

      The opening B-roll on Larry King Live replayed the final seconds of the recent SuperBowl, the Los Angeles Leopards losing to the Dallas Cowboys. Next came a shot of the United States Army War College, Collins Hall, where (it said) Colonel Frank Wilson served at the Center for Strategic Leadership as Director of the Political-Military Wargaming Division.

      Ben's eyebrows shot up when Larry King began the interview by reading a statement, a declaration that CNN took no position as to the truth or falsity of any allegations Wally Globus might make during the interview.

      "My first guest this evening is ex-Leopards offensive guard, Wally Globus. That 's right, isn't it Wally, you're no longer playing for the Leopards?"

      "I was kicked out 'cause my knee's been busted too many times . . . "

      "We'll get to that," Larry said. "My second guest is with us in Washington, D.C., Colonel Frank Wilson, psychological wargame expert. Good evening, Colonel Wilson."

      "Good evening, Larry." A giant-sized head-shot of Frank appeared on the screen. He had visibly aged since Ben had last seen him. His hair was thinning, and his jaws bore traces of an incipient jowliness.

      "You're an expert on mind-control? And you've even consulted with some NFL teams on player psychology, is that right, Colonel?"

      "Well, I work in the area of psychological behavior engineering, as we call it in the military. And, yes, I've been a consultant for several NFL teams over the years."

      Larry pushed ahead. "Tell me, then, is it possible that Wally really was brainwashed to throw the games?"

      "From what I've read Wally isn't saying he was brainwashed or that he threw the games. That's what makes this case different--and interesting. He's saying he was merely used to control the outcome of the games."

      "Exactly," Larry exclaimed. "Is that possible?"

      "Theoretically, yes. But I need to hear more of what Wally has to say before I could make a judgment call."

      "Sure, Colonel, we'll get right to Wally on that."

      The scene shifted back to the CNN Atlanta studio and the enormous two hundred and eighty-five pound Caucasian giant sitting across from Larry King. Wally's nickname was the Steroid Walrus.

      "Wally, I'm holding here a sports magazine with you on the cover. In the magazine, you say some doctor approached you about a year ago and offered you large sums of money just to say certain things and do certain things? Like what?"

      "Like say things to our quarterback, or the head coach, or some of the other players. And, yeah, he offered me a lot of money."

      "How much money are we talking about?"

      "Well, my lawyer says I can't discuss the actual amount. But it was big money--a lot more than the Leopards ever paid me for risking my neck."

      "Exactly what kinds of things did you say to the players and the coach?" Larry jabbed the air with his index finger, "And why? What made you agree to do this?"

      "Well," Wally looked down away from the camera. "I wasn't gettin' paid what I deserved. I'd busted my knee a couple of times, been out recuperatin' half of one season. But I worked my way back to first string--and was still gettin' only a lousy seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars a year. When that black quarterback gets eight million over a five year period. That just ain't right."

      "So you say you did it because you felt you weren't being fairly treated. Now, what kinds of things were you told to say and do?"

      "Well, I remember one time I was s'posed to say to Jake, our black quarterback, that we less-well-paid linemen were keepin' his high-paid ass from gettin' demolished. It was just s'posed to be like a joke. But I had to say it three times, once a day for three days. Then I was to report to the doctor what kinda impression this made on Jake. Turned out Jake got real pissed. He never said nothin' to the coach, though."

      Larry turned to the monitor. "Colonel Wilson, could a statement such as that have a significant effect on a player?"

      "Because a quarterback must depend on his linesmen, yes. This could have been a probe to see what Jake's reaction would be . . . "

      Wally interrupted, forcing Larry to turn to him.

      "Yeah, probe, that's what the doctor called it. I'd been sayin' a lot of different things to Jake over the year. This was just one of 'em. But this one really got to 'im. That's why I remember it." Wally lowered his eyes from the camera again. "I missed my assignment a couple of times the game before. Jake got sacked both times--had to leave the game the second time."

      Larry said immediately, "Let me understand this. You say you were told to miss a blocking assignment and let Jake get sacked?"

      "Yeah, kind of. I was s'posed to make it, you know, look like I tried and missed. Not too obvious, the doctor said."

      "What do you think was going on, Colonel?" Larry turned to Frank.

      "Perhaps some kind of psychological manipulation. But I can't be certain."

      "If it were mind control, how would this work?"

      "A quarterback who depends on his linemen for his own safety develops a very special relationship with them. He knows that their physical and mental condition is almost a matter of life or death--for him. He learns to listen carefully to what they say about their feelings. If he detected a note of resentment in Wally--after Wally had missed two blocking assignments the week before--it would certainly get his attention. It might even affect his quality of play."

      Larry turned back to Wally. "Now, you claim you were ordered to psych out your head coach?"

      "Yeah. We won the next game pretty easy, and I made sure I got to pour the Gatorade on the coach. This doctor told me to pour it on him early and sort of hit him with the top of the heavy plastic container. Which I did. And man was he pissed! He give me a royal chewin' out the next week."

      "Then what happened?"

      "Well, he didn't start me next game. Hell, ever'body knew I was better'n the guy that started. But then my replacement couldn't handle the assignments and coach had to put me in. Then I missed one block and he pulled me and chewed my ass."

      "Weren't you afraid the coach would bench you permanently?"

      "Well, I mentioned that to the doctor, but he said for me to play just enough better than my competitor to keep playing. And it worked. We were real short on players last year, because of all the injuries. I missed a coupla blocks during practice, like the doctor told me."

      "So you were a kind of enemy within the Leopards camp, right, Wally?"

      "Well, I liked the Leopards okay. But I never liked our black quarterback much. I played with pretty much a all-white team in college. And here's this black guy gettin' ten times what I am; and I'm busting my ass to keep him from gettin' killed. It wasn't too hard to do what the doctor said."

      Larry turned to the monitor. "Colonel Wilson, does this seem to you like a scheme to sabotage the Leopards?"

      "If it's true, it would be a clear case of behavioral manipulation, carefully orchestrated, with a cumulative effect on the team. Wally would have been given certain statements and behaviors and then told to report the reactions. From those reactions, a distinct profile of the players and the coaches could be built . . . "

      "Yeah! That's what the doctor called it," Wally interrupted again, "a psychological profile."

      Wally hesitated. "I only saw the guy one time, when he first talked to me--recruited me. He never told me his name, said it wasn't none of my business."

      "So he spoke to you by phone after the first meeting?"

      "Yeah, kinda spooky like. But I was gettin' the money regular each week."

      "Why have you turned against this doctor?"

      "I ain't gettin' no money no more. Can't get no answer at the number I used to call. Says it's been disconnected."

      "So you claim that this doctor used you to make the Leopards lose games through the whole season--and the SuperBowl? How did you do that?"

      "When I was playin' second string I sacked Jake a couple of times, even after he'd gotten the pass off. Hit him with everything I had. They finally put the backup quarterback in the practice. And this was interesting, when I hit Jake I was supposed to say to him when we was both was down on the ground, so nobody else could hear, 'You over-paid black-ass nigger.' Now, I didn't go for that at first, and I told the doctor. But he insisted I use those words--so only Jake could hear."

      "That's pretty strong language, Wally." Larry looked quizzically at him.

      "All I know is it worked. Jake played the lousiest game of his career in the SuperBowl. Kept lookin' at my blockin' assignments seeing if he was gettin' protection or not. That's why we lost, I'm pretty sure."

      "Colonel," Larry turned to the monitor, "does all this seem like an outlandish fantasy?"

      "It remains to be seen. Wally is describing an interesting scenario for destroying the mental stability of an entire team. It could have happened."

      "The great SuperBowl Mind Slaughter," Larry continued, turning toward Wally. He obviously didn't want to give up on this exposé just yet.

      "Wally, you say you don't know who this mysterious doctor is, right?"

      "Right."

      "You want us to believe that you talked to this man, took orders from him, and took money from him, but you never learned his name? We've heard from other sources that you've actually told people that you know his name. Is that right?"

      Wally was visibly shaken. He started to mumble, cleared his throat, and tried again. "Well, maybe I do know his name. I seen his picture in the papers last week. I didn't know his name till then."

      "What's the name of this mysterious doctor who manipulated you to destroy the Leopards in the SuperBowl?"

      Wally sat without speaking.

      Larry asked again, forcefully. "Wally, who was this man?"

      "His name's Dr. Lyman Gorgon."





      Ben was leaning back comfortably in his recliner in his apartment, trying to relax after a stressful day at the Agency. He was watching a Bruce Willis movie video he'd rented, thinking it might help him ease his tension. Finally, in exasperation, he punched the TV remote off button. Hollywood, he thought to himself, takes a vital social issue - such as the possible military takeover of the United States - and turns it into an irrelevant Boy Scout melodrama.

     He decided to read instead. He placed his small portable computer on his lap, inserted the CD-ROM, and began to read the book that had started it all: The Green Rose by Franklin Cartwright.





He is the provider of both faith and worldly goods;
he is none other than the disposer of our lives.

Hakim Sanai. The Garden of Reality


     This book encapsulates a higher science making available a superior experience and knowledge which acts upon readers directly proportional to their capability and merit. The book contains ancient and effectual knowledge available to humankind, long forgotten and unused because of the atrophy of our higher faculties.

      Some persons who read this book will be capable of understanding the significance of the experience it provides. They will credit that a book can contain an advanced, arcane technology which can produce transmutation in deserving humans. To some the book will appear as no more than a useless puzzle or enigma.

      It requires a teacher with the essential knowledge of how to apply an advanced technology to produce transformation in humans, through the prescription of experiences, including the reading of selected books. A person reading this book, lacking the correct knowledge as to its use, could misinterpret, misuse, ignore, or destroy its potency. Some persons, correctly prepared for understanding, will use the experience of the book as a point of awakening, the beginning of their struggle upward to a higher awareness.


      Ben had an eerie feeling as he read these words in the book entitled The Green Rose. The book had taken him from the east coast to San Francisco and north to a small town named Healdsburg.

      Even though he was now somewhat puzzled by the experience, it had been the first step on a journey that would prove unusually challenging.