The Twilight Saga 2: New Moon Chapter 4 WAKING UP

TIME PASSES. EVEN WHEN IT SEEMS IMPOSSIBLE. EVEN when each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise. It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does. Even for me. CHARLIE'S FIST CAME DOWN ON THE TABLE. â€Å"THAT'S IT, Bella! I'm sending you home.† I looked up from my cereal, which I was pondering rather than eating, and stared at Charlie in shock. I hadn't been following the conversationactually, I hadn't been aware that we were having a conversationand I wasn't sure what he meant. â€Å"I am home,† I mumbled, confused. â€Å"I'm sending you to Renee, to Jacksonville,† he clarified. Charlie watched with exasperation as I slowly grasped the meaning of his words. â€Å"What did I do?† I felt my face crumple. It was so unfair. My behavior had been above reproach for the past four months. After that first week, which neither of us ever mentioned, I hadn't missed a day of school or work. My grades were perfect. I never broke curfewI never went anywhere from which to break curfew in the first place. I only very rarely served leftovers. Charlie was scowling. â€Å"You didn't do anything. That's the problem. You never do anything.† â€Å"You want me to get into trouble?† I wondered, my eyebrows pulling together in mystification. I made an effort to pay attention. It wasn't easy. I was so used to tuning everything out, my ears felt stopped up. â€Å"Trouble would be better than this this moping around all the time!† That stung a bit. I'd been careful to avoid all forms of moroseness, moping included. â€Å"I am not moping around.† â€Å"Wrong word,† he grudgingly conceded. â€Å"Moping would be betterthat would be doing something. You're just lifeless, Bella. I think that's the word I want.† This accusation struck home. I sighed and tried to put some animation into my response. â€Å"I'm sorry, Dad.† My apology sounded a little flat, even to me. I'd thought I'd been fooling him. Keeping Charlie from suffering was the whole point of all this effort. How depressing to think that the effort had been wasted. â€Å"I don't want you to apologize.† I sighed. â€Å"Then tell me what you do want me to do.† â€Å"Bella,† he hesitated, scrutinizing my reaction to his next words. â€Å"Honey, you're not the first person to go through this kind of thing, you know.† â€Å"I know that.† My accompanying grimace was limp and unimpressive. â€Å"Listen, honey. I think thatthat maybe you need some help.† â€Å"Help?† He paused, searching for the words again. â€Å"When your mother left,† he began, frowning, â€Å"and took you with her.† He inhaled deeply. â€Å"Well, that was a really bad time for me.† â€Å"I know, Dad,† I mumbled. â€Å"But I handled it,† he pointed out. â€Å"Honey, you're not handling it. I waited, I hoped it would get better.† He stared at me and I looked down quickly. â€Å"I think we both know it's not getting better.† â€Å"I'mfine.† He ignored me. â€Å"Maybe, well, maybe if you talked to someone about it. A professional.† â€Å"You want me to see a shrink?† My voice was a shade sharper as I realized what he was getting at. â€Å"Maybe it would help.† â€Å"And maybe it wouldn't help one little bit.† I didn't know much about psychoanalysis, but I was pretty sure that it didn't work unless the subject was relatively honest. Sure, I could tell the truthif I wanted to spend the rest of my life in a padded cell. He examined my obstinate expression, and switched to another line of attack. â€Å"It's beyond me, Bella. Maybe your mother† â€Å"Look,† I said in a flat voice. â€Å"I'll go out tonight, if you want. I'll call Jess or Angela.† â€Å"That's not what I want,† he argued, frustrated. â€Å"I don't think I can live through seeing you try harder. I've never seen anyone trying so hard. It hurts to watch.† I pretended to be dense, looking down at the table. â€Å"I don't understand, Dad. First you're mad because I'm not doing anything, and then you say you don't want me to go out.† â€Å"I want you to be happyno, not even that much. I just want you not to be miserable. I think you'll have a better chance if you get out of Forks.† My eyes flashed up with the first small spark of feeling I'd had in too long to contemplate. â€Å"I'm not leaving,† I said. â€Å"Why not?† he demanded. â€Å"I'm in my last semester of schoolit would screw everything up.† â€Å"You're a good studentyou'll figure it out.† â€Å"I don't want to crowd Mom and Phil.† â€Å"Your mother's been dying to have you back.† â€Å"Florida is too hot.† His fist came down on the table again. â€Å"We both know what's really going on here, Bella, and it's not good for you.† He took a deep breath. â€Å"It's been months. No calls, no letters, no contact. You can't keep waitingforhim.† I glowered at him. The heat almost, but not quite, reached my face. It had been a long time since I'd blushed with any emotion. This whole subject was utterly forbidden, as he was well aware. â€Å"I'm not waiting for anything. I don't expect anything,† I said in a low monotone. â€Å"Bella,† Charlie began, his voice thick. â€Å"I have to get to school,† I interrupted, standing up and yanking my untouched breakfast from the table. I dumped my bowl in the sink without pausing to wash it out. I couldn't deal with any more conversation. â€Å"I'll make plans with Jessica,† I called over my shoulder as I strapped on my school bag, not meeting his eyes. â€Å"Maybe I won't be home for dinner. We'll go to Port Angeles and watch a movie.† I was out the front door before he could react. In my haste to get away from Charlie, I ended up being one of the first ones to school. The plus side was that I got a really good parking spot. The downside was that I had free time on my hands, and I tried to avoid free time at all costs. Quickly, before I could start thinking about Charlie's accusations, I pulled out my Calculus book. I flipped it open to the section we should be starting today, and tried to make sense of it. Reading math was even worse than listening to it, but I was getting better at it. In the last several months, I'd spent ten times the amount of time on Calculus than I'd ever spent on math before. As a result, I was managing to keep in the range of a low A. I knew Mr. Varner felt my improvement was all due to his superior teaching methods. And if that made him happy, I wasn't going to burst his bubble. I forced myself to keep at it until the parking lot was full, and I ended up rushing to English. We were working on Animal Farm, an easy subject matter. I didn't mind communism; it was a welcome change from the exhausting romances that made up most of the curriculum. I settled into my seat, pleased by the distraction of Mr. Berty's lecture. Time moved easily while I was in school. The bell rang all too soon. I started repacking my bag. â€Å"Bella?† I recognized Mike's voice, and I knew what his next words would be before he said them. â€Å"Are you working tomorrow?† I looked up. He was leaning across the aisle with an anxious expression. Every Friday he asked me the same question. Never mind that I hadn't taken so much as a sick day. Well, with one exception, months ago. But he had no reason to look at me with such concern. I was a model employee. â€Å"Tomorrow is Saturday, isn't it?† I said. Having just had it pointed out to me by Charlie, I realized how lifeless my voice really sounded. â€Å"Yeah, it is,† he agreed. â€Å"See you in Spanish.† He waved once before turning his back. He didn't bother walking me to class anymore. I trudged off to Calculus with a grim expression. This was the class where I sat next to Jessica. It had been weeks, maybe months, since Jess had even greeted me when I passed her in the hall. I knew I had offended her with my antisocial behavior, and she was sulking. It wasn't going to be easy to talk to her nowespecially to ask her to do me a favor. I weighed my options carefully as I loitered outside the classroom, procrastinating. I wasn't about to face Charlie again without some kind of social interaction to report. I knew I couldn't lie, though the thought of driving to Port Angeles and back alonebeing sure my odometer reflected the correct mileage, just in case he checkedwas very tempting. Jessica's mom was the biggest gossip in town, and Charlie was bound to run into Mrs. Stanley sooner rather than later. When he did, he would no doubt mention the trip. Lying was out. With a sigh, I shoved the door open. Mr. Varner gave me a dark lookhe'd already started the lecture. I hurried to my seat. Jessica didn't look up as I sat next to her. I was glad that I had fifty minutes to mentally prepare myself. This class flew by even faster than English. A small part of that speed was due to my goody-goody preparation this morning in the truckbut mostly it stemmed from the fact that time always sped up when I was looking forward to something unpleasant. I grimaced when Mr. Varner dismissed the class five minutes early. He smiled like he was being nice. â€Å"Jess?† My nose wrinkled as I cringed, waiting for her to turn on me. She twisted in her seat to face me, eyeing me incredulously. â€Å"Are you talking to me, Bella?† â€Å"Of course.† I widened my eyes to suggest innocence. â€Å"What? Do you need help with Calculus?† Her tone was a tad sour. â€Å"No.† I shook my head. â€Å"Actually, I wanted to know if you would go to the movies with me tonight? I really need a girls' night out.† The words sounded stiff, like badly delivered lines, and she looked suspicious. â€Å"Why are you asking me?† she asked, still unfriendly. â€Å"You're the first person I think of when I want girl time.† I smiled, and I hoped the smile looked genuine. It was probably true. She was at least the first person I thought of when I wanted to avoid Charlie. It amounted to the same thing. She seemed a little mollified. â€Å"Well, I don't know.† â€Å"Do you have plans?† â€Å"No I guess I can go with you. What do you want to see?† â€Å"I'm not sure what's playing,† I hedged. This was the tricky part. I racked my brain for a cluehadn't I heard someone talk about a movie recently? Seen a poster? â€Å"How about that one with the female president?† She looked at me oddly. â€Å"Bella, that one's been out of the theater forever.† â€Å"Oh.† I frowned. â€Å"Is there anything you'd like to see?† Jessica's natural bubbliness started to leak out in spite of herself as she thought out loud. â€Å"Well, there's that new romantic comedy that's getting great reviews. I want to see that one. And my dad just saw Dead End and he really liked it.† I grasped at the promising title. â€Å"What's that one about?† â€Å"Zombies or something. He said it was the scariest thing he'd seen in years.† â€Å"That sounds perfect.† I'd rather deal with real zombies than watch a romance. â€Å"Okay.† She seemed surprised by my response. I tried to remember if I liked scary movies, but I wasn't sure. â€Å"Do you want me to pick you up after school?† she offered. â€Å"Sure.† Jessica smiled at me with tentative friendliness before she left. My answering smile was just a little late, but I thought that she saw it. The rest of the day passed quickly, my thoughts focused on planning for tonight. I knew from experience that once I got Jessica talking, I would be able to get away with a few mumbled responses at the appropriate moments. Only minimal interaction would be required. The thick haze that blurred my days now was sometimes confusing. I was surprised when I found myself in my room, not clearly remembering the drive home from school or even opening the front door. But that didn't matter. Losing track of time was the most I asked from life. I didn't fight the haze as I turned to my closet. The numbness was more essential in some places than in others. I barely registered what I was looking at as I slid the door aside to reveal the pile of rubbish on the left side of my closet, under the clothes I never wore. My eyes did not stray toward the black garbage bag that held my present from that last birthday, did not see the shape of the stereo where it strained against the black plastic; I didn't think of the bloody mess my nails had been when I'd finished clawing it out of the dashboard. I yanked the old purse I rarely used off the nail it hung from, and shoved the door shut. Just then I heard a horn honking. I swiftly traded my wallet from my schoolbag into the purse. I was in a hurry, as if rushing would somehow make the night pass more quickly. I glanced at myself in the hall mirror before I opened the door, arranging my features carefully into a smile and trying to hold them there. â€Å"Thanks for coming with me tonight,† I told Jess as I climbed into the passenger seat, trying to infuse my tone with gratitude. It had been a while since I'd really thought about what I was saying to anyone besides Charlie. Jess was harder. I wasn't sure which were the right emotions to fake. â€Å"Sure. So, what brought this on?† Jess wondered as she drove down my street. â€Å"Brought what on?† â€Å"Why did you suddenly decide to go out?† It sounded like she changed her question halfway through. I shrugged. â€Å"Just needed a change.† I recognized the song on the radio then, and quickly reached for the dial. â€Å"Do you mind?† I asked. â€Å"No, go ahead.† I scanned through the stations until I found one that was harmless. I peeked at Jess's expression as the new music filled the car. Her eyes squinted. â€Å"Since when do you listen to rap?† â€Å"I don't know,† I said. â€Å"A while.† â€Å"You like this?† she asked doubtfully. â€Å"Sure.† It would be much too hard to interact with Jessica normally if I had to work to tune out the music, too. I nodded my head, hoping I was in time with the beat. â€Å"Okay† She stared out the windshield with wide eyes. â€Å"So what's up with you and Mike these days?† I asked quickly. â€Å"You see him more than I do.† The question hadn't started her talking like I'd hoped it would. â€Å"It's hard to talk at work,† I mumbled, and then I tried again. â€Å"Have you been out with anyone lately?† â€Å"Not really. I go out with Conner sometimes. I went out with Eric two weeks ago.† She rolled her eyes, and I sensed a long story. I clutched at the opportunity. â€Å"Eric Yorkie? Who asked who?† She groaned, getting more animated. â€Å"He did, of course! I couldn't think of a nice way to say no.† â€Å"Where did he take you?† I demanded, knowing she would interpret my eagerness as interest. â€Å"Tell me all about it.† She launched into her tale, and I settled into my seat, more comfortable now. I paid strict attention, murmuring in sympathy and gasping in horror as called for. When she was finished with her Eric story, she continued into a Conner comparison without any prodding. The movie was playing early, so Jess thought we should hit the twilight showing and eat later. I was happy to go along with whatever she wanted; after all, I was getting what I wantedCharlie off my back. I kept Jess talking through the previews, so I could ignore them more easily. But I got nervous when the movie started. A young couple was walking along a beach, swinging hands and discussing their mutual affection with gooey falseness. I resisted the urge to cover my ears and start humming. I had not bargained for a romance. â€Å"I thought we picked the zombie movie,† I hissed to Jessica. â€Å"This is the zombie movie.† â€Å"Then why isn't anyone getting eaten?† I asked desperately. She looked at me with wide eyes that were almost alarmed. â€Å"I'm sure that part's coming,† she whispered. â€Å"I'm getting popcorn. Do you want any?† â€Å"No, thanks.† Someone shushed us from behind. I took my time at the concession counter, watching the clock and debating what percentage of a ninety-minute movie could be spent on romantic exposition. I decided ten minutes was more than enough, but I paused just inside the theater doors to be sure. I could hear horrified screams blaring from the speakers, so I knew I'd waited long enough. â€Å"You missed everything,† Jess murmured when I slid back into my seat. â€Å"Almost everyone is a zombie now.† â€Å"Long line.† I offered her some popcorn. She took a handful. The rest of the movie was comprised of gruesome zombie attacks and endless screaming from the handful of people left alive, their numbers dwindling quickly. I would have thought there was nothing in that to disturb me. But I felt uneasy, and I wasn't sure why at first. It wasn't until almost the very end, as I watched a haggard zombie shambling after the last shrieking survivor, that I realized what the problem was. The scene kept cutting between the horrified face of the heroine, and the dead, emotionless face of her pursuer, back and forth as it closed the distance. And I realized which one resembled me the most. I stood up. â€Å"Where are you going? There's, like, two minutes left,† Jess hissed. â€Å"I need a drink,† I muttered as I raced for the exit. I sat down on the bench outside the theater door and tried very hard not to think of the irony. But it was ironic, all things considered, that, in the end, I would wind up as a zombie. I hadn't seen that one coming. Not that I hadn't dreamed of becoming a mythical monster oncejust never a grotesque, animated corpse. I shook my head to dislodge that train of thought, feeling panicky. I couldn't afford to think about what I'd once dreamed of. It was depressing to realize that I wasn't the heroine anymore, that my story was over. Jessica came out of the theater doors and hesitated, probably wondering where the best place was to search for me. When she saw me, she looked relieved, but only for a moment. Then she looked irritated. â€Å"Was the movie too scary for you?† she wondered. â€Å"Yeah,† I agreed. â€Å"I guess I'm just a coward.† â€Å"That's funny.† She frowned. â€Å"I didn't think you were scaredI was screaming all the time, but I didn't hear you scream once. So I didn't know why you left.† I shrugged. â€Å"Just scared.† She relaxed a little. â€Å"That was the scariest movie I think I've ever seen. I'll bet we're going to have nightmares tonight.† â€Å"No doubt about that,† I said, trying to keep my voice normal. It was inevitable that I would have nightmares, but they wouldn't be about zombies. Her eyes flashed to my face and away. Maybe I hadn't succeeded with the normal voice. â€Å"Where do you want to eat?† Jess asked. â€Å"I don't care.† â€Å"Okay.† Jess started talking about the male lead in the movie as we walked. I nodded as she gushed over his hotness, unable to remember seeing a non-zombie man at all. I didn't watch where Jessica was leading me. I was only vaguely aware that it was dark and quieter now. It took me longer than it should have to realize why it was quiet. Jessica had stopped babbling. I looked at her apologetically, hoping I hadn't hurt her feelings. Jessica wasn't looking at me. Her face was tense; she stared straight ahead and walked fast. As I watched, her eyes darted quickly to the right, across the road, and back again. I glanced around myself for the first time. We were on a short stretch of unlit sidewalk. The little shops lining the street were all locked up for the night, windows black. Half a block ahead, the streetlights started up again, and I could see, farther down, the bright golden arches of the McDonald's she was heading for. Across the street there was one open business. The windows were covered from inside and there were neon signs, advertisements for different brands of beer, glowing in front of them. The biggest sign, in brilliant green, was the name of the barOne-Eyed Pete's. I wondered if there was some pirate theme not visible from outside. The metal door was propped open; it was dimly lit inside, and the low murmur of many voices and the sound of ice clinking in glasses floated across the street. Lounging against the wall beside the door were four men. I glanced back at Jessica. Her eyes were fixed on the path ahead and she moved briskly. She didn't look frightenedjust wary, trying to not attract attention to herself. I paused without thinking, looking back at the four men with a strong sense of dj vu. This was a different road, a different night, but the scene was so much the same. One of them was even short and dark. As I stopped and turned toward them, that one looked up in interest. I stared back at him, frozen on the sidewalk. â€Å"Bella?† Jess whispered. â€Å"What are you doing?† I shook my head, not sure myself. â€Å"I think I know them† I muttered. What was I doing? I should be running from this memory as fast as I could, blocking the image of the four lounging men from my mind, protecting myself with the numbness I couldn't function without. Why was I stepping, dazed, into the street? It seemed too coincidental that I should be in Port Angeles with Jessica, on a dark street even. My eyes focused on the short one, trying to match the features to my memory of the man who had threatened me that night almost a year ago. I wondered if there was any way I would recognize the man, if it was really him. That particular part of that particular evening was just a blur. My body remembered it better than my mind did; the tension in my legs as I tried to decide whether to run or to stand my ground, the dryness in my throat as I struggled to build a decent scream, the tight stretch of skin across my knuckles as I clenched my hands into fists, the chills on the back of my neck when the dark-haired man called me â€Å"sugar.† There was an indefinite, implied kind of menace to these men that had nothing to do with that other night. It sprung from the fact that they were strangers, and it was dark here, and they outnumbered usnothing more specific than that. But it was enough that Jessica's voice cracked in panic as she called after me. â€Å"Bella, come on!† I ignored her, walking slowly forward without ever making the conscious decision to move my feet. I didn't understand why, but the nebulous threat the men presented drew me toward them. It was a senseless impulse, but I hadn't felt any kind of impulse in so long I followed it. Something unfamiliar beat through my veins. Adrenaline, I realized, long absent from my system, drumming my pulse faster and fighting against the lack of sensation. It was strangewhy the adrenaline when there was no fear? It was almost as if it were an echo of the last time I'd stood like this, on a dark street in Port Angeles with strangers. I saw no reason for fear. I couldn't imagine anything in the world that there was left to be afraid of, not physically at least. One of the few advantages of losing everything. I was halfway across the street when Jess caught up to me and grabbed my arm. â€Å"Bella! You can't go in a bar!† she hissed. â€Å"I'm not going in,† I said absently, shaking her hand off. â€Å"I just want to see something† â€Å"Are you crazy?† she whispered. â€Å"Are you suicidal?† That question caught my attention, and my eyes focused on her. â€Å"No, I'm not.† My voice sounded defensive, but it was true. I wasn't suicidal. Even in the beginning, when death unquestionably would have been a relief, I didn't consider it. I owed too much to Charlie. I felt too responsible for Renee. I had to think of them. And I'd made a promise not to do anything stupid or reckless. For all those reasons, I was still breathing. Remembering that promise. I felt a twinge of guilt. but what I was doing fight now didn't really count. It wasn't like I was taking a blade to my wrists. Jess's eyes were round, her mouth hung open. Her question about suicide had been rhetorical, I realized too late. â€Å"Go eat,† I encouraged her, waving toward the fast food. I didn't like the way she looked at me. â€Å"I'll catch up in a minute.† I turned away from her, back to the men who were watching us with amused, curious eyes. â€Å"Bella, stop this right now!† My muscles locked into place, froze me where I stood. Because it wasn't Jessica's voice that rebuked me now. It was a furious voice, a familiar voice, a beautiful voicesoft like velvet even though it was irate. It was his voiceI was exceptionally careful not to think his nameand I was surprised that the sound of it did not knock me to my knees, did not curl me onto the pavement in a torture of loss. But there was no pain, none at all. In the instant that I heard his voice, everything was very clear. Like my head had suddenly surfaced out of some dark pool. I was more aware of everythingsight, sound, the feel of the cold air that I hadn't noticed was blowing sharply against my face, the smells coming from the open bar door. I looked around myself in shock. â€Å"Go back to Jessica,† the lovely voice ordered, still angry. â€Å"You promisednothing stupid.† I was alone. Jessica stood a few feet from me, staring at me with frightened eyes. Against the wall, the strangers watched, confused, wondering what I was doing, standing there motionless in the middle of the street. I shook my head, trying to understand. I knew he wasn't there, and yet, he felt improbably close, close for the first time since since the end. The anger in his voice was concern, the same anger that was once very familiarsomething I hadn't heard in what felt like a lifetime. â€Å"Keep your promise.† The voice was slipping away, as if the volume was being turned down on a radio. I began to suspect that I was having some kind of hallucination. Triggered, no doubt, by the memorythe deja vu, the strange familiarity of the situation. I ran through the possibilities quickly in my head. Option one: I was crazy. That was the layman's term for people who heard voices in their heads. Possible. Option two: My subconscious mind was giving me what it thought I wanted. This was wish fulfillmenta momentary relief from pain by embracing the incorrect idea that he cared whether I lived or died. Projecting what he would have said if A) he were here, and B) he would be in any way bothered by something bad happening to me. Probable. I could see no option three, so I hoped it was the second option and this was just my subconscious running amuck, rather than something I would need to be hospitalized for. My reaction was hardly sane, thoughI was grateful. The sound of his voice was something that I'd feared I was losing, and so, more than anything else, I felt overwhelming gratitude that my unconscious mind had held onto that sound better than my conscious one had. I was not allowed to think of him. That was something I tried to be very strict about. Of course I slipped; I was only human. But I was getting better, and so the pain was something I could avoid for days at a time now. The tradeoff was the never-ending numbness. Between pain and nothing, I'd chosen nothing. I waited for the pain now. I was not numbmy senses felt unusually intense after so many months of the hazebut the normal pain held off. The only ache was the disappointment that his voice was fading. There was a second of choice. The wise thing would be to run away from this potentially destructiveand certainly mentally unstabledevelopment. It would be stupid to encourage hallucinations. But his voice was fading. I took another step forward, testing. â€Å"Bella, turn around,† he growled. I sighed in relief. The anger was what I wanted to hearfalse, fabricated evidence that he cared, a dubious gift from my subconscious. Very few seconds had passed while I sorted this all out. My little audience watched, curious. It probably looked like I was just dithering over whether or not I was going to approach them. How could they guess that I was standing there enjoying an unexpected moment of insanity? â€Å"Hi,† one of the men called, his tone both confident and a bit sarcastic. He was fair-skinned and fair-haired, and he stood with the assurance of someone who thought of himself as quite good-looking. I couldn't tell whether he was or not. I was prejudiced. The voice in my head answered with an exquisite snarl. I smiled, and the confident man seemed to take that as encouragement. â€Å"Can I help you with something? You look lost.† He grinned and winked. I stepped carefully over the gutter, running with water that was black in the darkness. â€Å"No. I'm not lost.† Now that I was closerand my eyes felt oddly in focusI analyzed the short, dark man's face. It was not familiar in any way. I suffered a curious sensation of disappointment that this was not the terrible man who had tried to hurt me almost a year ago. The voice in my head was quiet now. The short man noticed my stare. â€Å"Can I buy you a drink?† he offered, nervous, seeming flattered that I'd singled him out to stare at. â€Å"I'm too young,† I answered automatically. He was baffledwondering why I had approached them. I felt compelled to explain. â€Å"From across the street, you looked like someone I knew. Sorry, my mistake.† The threat that had pulled me across the street had evaporated. These were not the dangerous men I remembered. They were probably nice guys. Safe. I lost interest. â€Å"That's okay,† the confident blonde said. â€Å"Stay and hang out with us.† â€Å"Thanks, but I can't.† Jessica was hesitating in the middle of the street, her eyes wide with outrage and betrayal. â€Å"Oh, just a few minutes.† I shook my head, and turned to rejoin Jessica. â€Å"Let's go eat,† I suggested, barely glancing at her. Though I appeared to be, for the moment, freed of the zombie abstraction, I was just as distant. My mind was preoccupied. The safe, numb deadness did not come back, and I got more anxious with every minute that passed without its return. â€Å"What were you thinking?† Jessica snapped. â€Å"You don't know themthey could have been psychopaths!† I shrugged, wishing she would let it go. â€Å"I just thought I knew the one guy.† â€Å"You are so odd, Bella Swan. I feel like I don't know who you are.† â€Å"Sorry.† I didn't know what else to say to that. We walked to McDonald's in silence. I'd bet that she was wishing we'd taken her car instead of walking the short distance from the theater, so that she could use the drive-through. She was just as anxious now for this evening to be over as I had been from the beginning. I tried to start a conversation a few times while we ate, but Jessica was not cooperative. I must have really offended her. When we go back in the car, she tuned the stereo back to her favorite station and turned the volume too loud to allow easy conversation. I didn't have to struggle as hard as usual to ignore the music. Even though my mind, for once, was not carefully numb and empty, I had too much to think about to hear the lyrics. I waited for the numbness to return, or the pain. Because the pain must be coming. I'd broken my personal rules. Instead of shying away from the memories, I'd walked forward and greeted them. I'd heard his voice, so clearly, in my head. That was going to cost me, I was sure of it. Especially if I couldn't reclaim the haze to protect myself. I felt too alert, and that frightened me. But relief was still the strongest emotion in my bodyrelief that came from the very core of my being. As much as I struggled not to think of him, I did not struggle to forget. I worriedlate in the night, when the exhaustion of sleep deprivation broke down my defensesthat it was all slipping away. That my mind was a sieve, and I would someday not be able to remember the precise color of his eyes, the feel of his cool skin, or the texture of his voice. I could not think of them, but I must remember them. Because there was just one thing that I had to believe to be able to liveI had to know that he existed. That was all. Everything else I could endure. So long as he existed. That's why I was more trapped in Forks than I ever had been before, why I'd fought with Charlie when he suggested a change. Honestly, it shouldn't matter; no one was ever coming back here. But if I were to go to Jacksonville, or anywhere else bright and unfamiliar, how could I be sure he was real? In a place where I could never imagine him, the conviction might fade and that I could not live through. Forbidden to remember, terrified to forget; it was a hard line to walk. I was surprised when Jessica stopped the car in front of my house. The ride had not taken long, but, short as it seemed, I wouldn't have thought that Jessica could go that long without speaking. â€Å"Thanks for going out with me, Jess,† I said as I opened my door. â€Å"That wasfun.† I hoped that fun was the appropriate word. â€Å"Sure,† she muttered. â€Å"I'm sorry about after the movie.† â€Å"Whatever, Bella.† She glared out the windshield instead of looking at me. She seemed to be growing angrier rather than getting over it. â€Å"See you Monday?† â€Å"Yeah. Bye.† I gave up and shut the door. She drove away, still without looking at me. I'd forgotten her by the time I was inside. Charlie was waiting for me in the middle of the hall, his arms folded tight over his chest with his hands balled into fists. â€Å"Hey, Dad,† I said absentmindedly as I ducked around Charlie, heading for the stairs. I'd been thinking about him for too long, and I wanted to be upstairs before it caught up with me. â€Å"Where have you been?† Charlie demanded. I looked at my dad, surprised. â€Å"I went to a movie in Port Angeles with Jessica. Like I told you this morning.† â€Å"Humph,† he grunted. â€Å"Is that okay?† He studied my face, his eyes widening as if he saw something unexpected. â€Å"Yeah, that's fine. Did you havefun?† â€Å"Sure,† I said. â€Å"We watched zombies eat people. It was great.† His eyes narrowed. â€Å"‘Night, Dad.† He let me pass. I hurried to my room. I lay in my bed a few minutes later, resigned as the pain finally made its appearance. It was a crippling thing, this sensation that a huge hole had been punched through my chest, excising my most vital organs and leaving ragged, unhealed gashes around the edges that continued to throb and bleed despite the passage of time. Rationally, I knew my lungs must still be intact, yet I gasped for air and my head spun like my efforts yielded me nothing. My heart must have been beating, too, but I couldn't hear the sound of my pulse in my ears; my hands felt blue with cold. I curled inward, hugging my ribs to hold myself together. I scrambled for my numbness, my denial, but it evaded me. And yet, I found I could survive. I was alert, I felt the painthe aching loss that radiated out from my chest, sending wracking waves of hurt through my limbs and headbut it was manageable. I could live through it. It didn't feel like the pain had weakened over time, rather that I'd grown strong enough to bear it. Whatever it was that had happened tonightand whether it was the zombies, the adrenaline, or the hallucinations that were responsibleit had woken me up. For the first time in a long time, I didn't know what to expect in the morning.

Charles Dickens & Nicholas Nickleby’ Essay

The way Dickens presents the children as being so weak and vulnerable is yet another of the key ways in which Dickens convinces us that the way they are treated is unfair and wrong. An example of this is when they are described in the shop as ‘children with the countenances of old men, deformities with irons upon their limbs†¦ ‘ this shows that these children have all been ruined beyond repair by the all the awful treatment they have received. This makes the reader feel ever more sympathetic towards the children and all the while more disconcerted as to how children may be treated in the real world. The last but certainly not least character I am going to explore that is used by Dickens to attain sympathy is Smike. This character was originally one of the students at Dotheboys Hall but the payments then stopped coming and so Squeers kept him as a slave. When we see Smike for the second time is when we get a real impression about how sad his life has been. When Nicolas looks at him what he sees is a look that was ‘†¦ a very painful one†¦ for it told a long and very sad history. ‘ This shows that there is no limit as to how low a child’s welfare can drop in all things positive as Smike has dropped from being a over punished pupil, to a cruelly treated slave. The readers reaction to this is clearly one of compassion for the character, and then for children in similar situations in real life. To conclude, this book quite possibly has an important historical context as to how the lives of children have changed in Britain since that time. There is a good chance it may have changed the opinions of many of its readers and informed those who were unaware and opened the eyes of the people who were turning a blind one. The fact that it could have had such affect on the matter of the treatment of children makes it clear to me that Dickens wrote this book far more as a message to the people, than just as a source of monetary gain.

Astral Records Ltd Case Report

————————————————- ————————————————- KOZMINSKI UNIVERSITY ————————————————- Financial Statement Analysis ————————————————- ————————————————- Critical Review ————————————————- ————————————————- Astral Records Ltd â⠂¬â€Ã¢â‚¬â€Ã¢â‚¬â€Ã¢â‚¬â€Ã¢â‚¬â€Ã¢â‚¬â€Ã¢â‚¬â€Ã¢â‚¬â€Ã¢â‚¬â€Ã¢â‚¬â€Ã¢â‚¬â€Ã¢â‚¬â€Ã¢â‚¬â€Ã¢â‚¬â€Ã¢â‚¬â€Ã¢â‚¬â€- Ewelina Laguna 23200 ————————————————- Joanna Czechowicz 23155 ————————————————-Yue Jingtong 23275 ————————————————- ————————————————- April 15, 2012 ————————————————- Academic Year 2012/2013 ——————————————â€⠀Ã¢â‚¬â€- ————————————————- I hereby certify that this paper is the result of my own work and that all sources I used have been reported. ————————————————- ————————————————- ————————————————– Signature ————————————————- Kozminski University 2010 1. Please assess the current financial health and recent financial performance of the company. What strengths and/or weaknesses would you highlight to Sarah Conner? The group managed to pick out a few factors to check the current financial health and recent financial performance of the company but they did not point out the total sales from income statement are increase. The thing we did not like was from the presentation point of view the group didn’t show us the good assessment of the situation like their report, and during the presentation it is so hard to catch the point of the question.The group gives us impressive numbers which we thought is from evaluating the financial situation but from the case exhibits. They didn’t mention the situation of the company (CEO been killed) they only talking about the numbers, in this point of view the group focus on numbers too much on this question. And in our opinion it will be better if they put some graph to show the trend. The trend can show us the financial health. The confuse part is they didn’t go to the point of the question directly. They didn’t give us the certain answer in the firs t part of question one.The good part is from the report; we can see the group was really focus on this question compare rest of the questions, besides the answer of first question is much better comparing the presentation. It will be good if they are not only showing the numbers but also available to explain the numbers. From the report we can see clearly about the EBITDA ratio however we cannot find anything from the presentation. Here is the copy from the report: â€Å"In operating management we used gross profit and EBITDA ratios (Table 2. ,). We use EBITDA ratio to better evaluate Astral financial condition- companies have different distribution and pricing policies which lead to different cost structure. † The ratios showed really clear in the report, and they think it is the most important ratio to see the financial health however they did not show anything during the presentation. 2. Please forecast the financial statements of the firm for 1994 and 1995. What will be t he external financing requirements of the firm in those years? Can the firm repay its loan within a reasonable period?The purpose of this question was to detect the skills of preparing financial forecast. However, during the presentation the group did not show us how to forecast but only numbers again. Audience may lose interest to follow. And it is also to catch the point during the presentation. Besides the group’s answer to this question, in the presentation and report, assume too much as they just mentioned; â€Å"Sales growth: 15%, Dividends, Fixed-assets, Interest expense , Production cost & expense and Admin & selling expense† In our point of view here is no need to assume too many unchanged numbers.And more assumption means more incorrect of the result. For example here is no need to assume stable interest expensive. During the presentation, when people asking why using the numbers they said just because of assumption. The growth rate they were using is 15% and they give no reason, however the 15% is from the expected growth rate not only from the assumption. Considering all the previous calculation is from assumptions and we must agree but if they do it more careful and using less assumption it will be much better compare the thing they have now. 3.What are the key driver assumptions of the firm’s future financial performance? * What are the managerial implications of those key drivers? * That is, what aspects of the firm’s activities should Conner especially focus on? Question 3 is not clear during the presentation however they showed everything in their report. 4. What is Astral’s weighted average cost of capital (WACC)? * What methods did you use to estimate the WACC? * What key assumptions especially influenced the WACC? Question 4 looks correct, but they didn’t show us numbers and we feel like the result is from the heaven.After checking the report we found out they use the wrong data. What they wrote in their report: ‘‘WACC was calculated using the following inputs; Using information from the comparables, Haris-Bershel and Donaldson, Inc E = Equity = average outstanding shares of the two comparables used multiplied by their average book value per share D = Debt= long-term debt E(re )= cost of equity = Gordon growth model= average comparable dividend, 10% growth, average comparable share price D(re) = cost of debt= libor + 1%† They have to tell us the number they were using whatever during the presentation or in the report.The most confusing part is cost of equity. There are 2 ways to calculate the cost of equity: And they were choosing the first way. They were using the different dividend and we even cannot find out the number they use. And they feel the number incorrect so they even divided by 2 to make the number similar as what we usually use during the lecture. In our case we got all the numbers to evaluate the cost of equity and the different ways should show the similar numbers of cost of equity. So our calculation of the cost of equity=risk-free return (6%)+beta(1. 45)*(average stock return(0. 8)-risk free return)=8. 9% And the WACC=5. 1. This part of the present is the worst and people cannot understand the point during the presentation. The report is not enough explanations. As you can see the group’s method would be not only confusing themself but provided them with the wrong answer. 5. What are the free cash flows of the packaging machine investment? Should Conner approve the investment? The Group did not answer to this question at all. It was not clear where there it actually is better to buy a machine later or not. They did not compare the two situations, just put not clear assumption.Therefore here is a proposition of alternative approach that in our opinion makes it clearer. * The discount rate used for calculation is the WACC from previous question. If you look at the totals and the differences between them it becomes quite clear that buying the machine now will result cost only 718,401 in terms of all cost for 10 years projection. At the same time the present value of all sawing to be made is higher by 280,028 if the machine is to be bought now. Evidently looking at this numbers will make you conclude that it is in fact worth to but the new equipment now.However it is important to look at general condition of the company. Keeping that in mind we must say that even thou the calculation would suggest to buy it now the company would have to finance it with a loan. It already has a lack of cash so making it even worst by investing another million is not a best idea. Especially that they can buy it any time in the future I would first deal with their shortage of cash and excess of account receivables and inventories. Then it will be a time to think about new investment in the equipment.

Global Challenges for Business, Management & Leadership Essay

Global Challenges for Business, Management & Leadership - Essay Example ................................................................ 7 2.3 Kraft Foods - Porter’s Five Forces ........................................................... 8 2.4 PESTEL Analyses .................................................................................... 9 2.5 Global Management Strategy .................................................................. 10 3.0 The Challenge - CSR ..................................................................................... 10 3.1 Impact of this Challenge on Kraft Foods ............................................... 11 4.0 Recommendation ........................................................................................... 11 5.0 Conclusion ..................................................................................................... 11 Works Cited ........................................................................................................ 12 1.0 Introduction Within a realistic context, it is no t easy to define the term management. In the academic circles there exist as many definitions of management as there are the books on the subject. It goes without saying that there are many genuine reasons behind this dilemma. The first and foremost, management pertains to a very vast and expansive subject. It is indeed very extensive. It is, therefore, not possible to outline all the essential features of management in a single formula. Besides, management is a subject that has primarily to do with human beings, which in a behavioural context tend to be highly unpredictable. Moreover, management is a discipline that is still in the nascent stages of its development and, hence, the concepts associated with it are continuously changing. Yet, there is no denying the fact that the most of the definitions of management tend to emphasise one common idea that the discipline of management is concerned with the accomplishment of objectives through the efforts of people performing certain fu nctions. The primary function of the managers is to create conditions and environment that enable the organizations to survive, thrive and grow. In that context it will be really interesting to attempt a viable definition of management by taking into consideration varied theories of management. Boddy defines management as â€Å"Management is the activity of getting things done with the aid of people and other resources† (Boddy 695). The one attribute of management that pops up from Boddy’s definition of management is that management seeks to achieve certain goals. These goals may be economic or non-economic. For instance in a business organization the primary goal is to produce and distribute goods with the aim and objective of earning profits. On the contrary, in a service organization like hospitals, educational institutions, etc, the goal might be to extend customer service. Another salient feature of management embodied in Boddy’s definition is that manageme nt also happens to be a social process because it deals with people. To make the best use of human efforts, managers are required to give way to close cooperation and coordination amongst the employees in an organization. Managers are required to look after the interests of employees, shareholders, investors and the community at large. Also management happens to be a group activity. Management is concerned with getting things done through people. People join in groups in order to achieve results collectively. Management helps people in realising individual as

Write an interesting scientific article on delayed suprachoroidal

Write an interesting scientific on delayed suprachoroidal haemorrhage following cyclodiode laser therapy - Article Example It is highly successful in providing pain relief in painful blind hypertensive glaucomatous eyes (Martin 2001). It is also useful to bring down intra ocular pressures in pregnancy where use of topical ocular hypotensive agents are contraindicated (Wertheim 2002). A longer follow up by Walland and Mark (2000) has suggested that cyclophotocoagulation is a convenient and useful therapy in the control of IOP in end-stage glaucoma. Like any other laser surgery, cyclodiode therapy also has side effects, but the complications are minimal when compared to other forms of treatment (Bloom 1997). Mild complications include iritis and other inflammations of the eye which can last several weeks. This can be of concern because multiple applications may be needed for a patient (Bloom 1997). Rarely, severe complications like phthisis bulbi (Sabri 1999), panophthalmitis (Sii 2007), sympathetic ophthalmia, malignant glaucoma (Fankhauser, 2004), necrotizing scleritis (Sudha 2006), choroidal detachment and retinal detachment (Autrata 2003) can also occur. Sabri and Vernon have reported a case of scleral perforation following diode surgery (Sabri 1999) while Tay and others (2006) have described about supra choroidal haemorrhage (late complication). In neovascular glaucoma, response of intra ocular pressure to the laser therapy is highly variable and hence circumferential treatments in neovascular eyes should be avoided (Walla nd, 2000). Suprachoroidal haemorrhage (SCH) is a catastrophic complication of intraocular surgery. The bleeding is usually due to the rupture of the long posterior ciliary artery (Wolter 1982). It can cause immediate loss of vision or loss of the eye (Sharma, YR, 2003). It has been associated with cataract surgery, penetrating keratoplasty, glaucoma procedures, vitreoretinal surgery (Tay 2006) and secondary lens implantation (Reynolds 1993). The haemorrhage can occur during surgery (intra-operative) or post-operative (delayed).

Crash Assignment Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 750 words

Crash - Assignment Example However, the reality is that most of us end up harboring racism inside, without letting anyone be aware of it. It is so well hidden that sometimes even we are unaware of it. The racism has its own way of coming out, for instance, in the case of an accident, if one of the drivers is a woman, most of us will automatically make the sexist remark about how women cannot drive. Just like Ria does in the movie when she is involved in an accident with an Asian woman, most of us end up letting our prejudices get the better of us when we are involved in an altercation of any sort. Though, normally, we are unaware that such prejudices reside within us. Interestingly enough, I feel, we cannot blame this trend on lack of education. Our educational system, we think, ends our prejudices, or at least weeds them out. What we are unaware of, however, is that most of the time our bigotry is latent within us, despite the refinement and education we undergo. Our inner instincts are sometimes witness to the fact that we do harbor biases within us. In Crash, Jean Cabot, who is the wife of the local District Attorney, and a very educated and cultured woman, still reaches out for her husband’s arm for protection only because she sees two black men crossing her path. This brings us to stereotyping. I feel stereotyping is wrong, no matter what the generality. There are no positive stereotypes. When we lump up a group of people together based on the color of their skin, or their gender, or any other outward appearance, we are, essentially, showing that a bias exists in our minds. We make an image, often unrealistic, in our minds about all of the people of a certain gender, or class, and then judge everyone by it. A case in point would be the way all of us tend to indulge in blonde jokes – jokes about blonde women, and how dimwitted they are. The reality

International Marketing Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 1500 words - 2

International Marketing - Essay Example It is one of the most powerful elements in international marketing. It is stated that advertisement though impersonal in character, could create profound influence in persuading prospects to become customers. It is true that advertisement carries only a message to the consumers and does not substantiate the consumers with any physical attributes. Nowadays, advertising is becoming exceedingly important in everyday life. The use of the Internet has augmented the importance of advertising as advertisements about a specific brand or product reach people easier. Many advertisements have deeper meanings than when seen at first sight especially in magazines where the main goal of the advertisement is to convey a message to the readers through the use of text or symbols. Central to much of modern day advertising in glossy magazines is the use of the metaphor. (Proctor et al, 2005). Metaphors are often used to broaden the way of understanding things. They also lead to a high level of ambiguit y in the metaphoric form.

Research Methods Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 1250 words - 3

Research Methods - Essay Example The questions were prepared in such a manner that it can clearly depict whether changes are required in an organisation and whether the managers are well aware and responsive to those changes. It is observed that about 80 questionnaires were duly filled while the 20 questionnaires are not taken for the analysis; within these 14 questionnaires were not dully filled and 6 were missing. Hence, 80/100 = 80% of the sample is considered for the analysis (Hair and Money, 2011; Gulati, 2009). Convenience sampling is employed in this case as the respondents are chosen because of proximity and accessibility. Here, the respondents are chosen randomly and the emails are sent along with the online link, where they will get the questionnaires. The questionnaires are sent to those managers and employees, who can be easily reached and does not have to go through an intermediary. Both descriptive and statistical analysis has been done for determining whether changes are encouraged in both the organizations. The analysis is divided into segments: Organization 1 and Organization 2. 50 respondents were chosen from each organization. The figure states that the managers, who are aware of the term change management, have the ability to identify the need for changes, which will improve the productivity Department of Culture and Information in Sharjah. However, few of the employees have stated that managers have resisted the changes and have not cooperated with the expectations and suggestions of the employees. Through the interview the managers of Sharjah Department of Information and Culture has depicted that they are concerned with the productivity of the organisations and individuals and does not concentrate on rating the efforts of the employees as they do not receive any holiday except the Ramadan. Hence, if changes are needed for the betterment of the organisations, the managers are positive about it (Hesse-Biber, 2010). According to the

Art and the British Empire Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 2500 words - 1

Art and the British Empire - Essay Example Art has been defined in an amorphous way because it has always been in a state of becoming. This has been emphasized by the emergence of new form of art in the new media era with digital technology replacing the traditional art forms. In Britain, art is a combination of visual art that forms part of western history, and it is usually strong in portraiture and landscape. The prosperity of the British in the early 18th century led to the British art recapturing the place it had taken in the middle ages because of a surge in the production of decorative art and fine arts. In fact, the decorative art became an export commodity in the early 18th century. The romantic period was famous for artists such as William Blake, J. M Tuner, John Constable and Samuel Palmer displaying their remarkable talents in their artworks (Barringer, Quilley & Fordham 2007). There came the Victorian period when art was diversified and a larger quantity was produced compared to former times. At this time, there was a preference of Victorian art with interest on Pre-Raphaelites and the innovative movements that arose towards the end of 18th century. The end of the 18th century brought about intensified training of artists with the initiatives of the government and in the early 19th century, and there were museums opened to display works of art to the public. The display of religious art in the 19th century became popular and this led to the emergence of academic art. The contribution of British to the art at this time was minimal, but it gained impetus after the Second World War when artists emerged with contemporary art. They produced figurative artworks and since then, Britain is a key hub of an increasingly globalized art. This has increased the global audience for the British art, but some visual art remains low profiled and Britain has been attempting to raise the profile.

Roles in the Courtroom Essay Example for Free

Roles in the Courtroom Essay Everyone has been in or seen a courtroom. If not personally, they have definitely seen one on television. Shows like Law Order and the First 48 gives the generalization of how a criminal is caught, brought to justice and it’s done all within one hour. Then there are civil court shows like Judge Judy and Judge Mathis, where you can see what actually happens in a court of law when someone is sued. All in all, when you watch these shows you never get the full effect of the roles each person in a courtroom plays to bring a person to justice. Some roles are more important than others, but people like Bailiffs, Judges or even Jurors all share an amount of responsibility in making sure that justice is served. In any courtroom you will see a Bailiff, Prosecutor, Defense Attorney, and a Judge. The Bailiff is usually a sheriff or a high- ranking police officer. Their presence alone keeps order in the courtroom amongst the audience all the way to the judge. A Bailiff’s role is simple. They swear in witnesses and they also play the go between man with the judge and jury. They call court to order and announce when the Judge enters the room. Their role is minimal but important still in its own way. Next are the Defense Attorney and the Prosecution whose duties and responsibilities are basically the same. They must gather and present evidence to the jury to discredit or give reasonable doubt that a crime was or wasn’t committed. The Defense is there to advice his client on the right plea to take. He is also there to make sure his client understands what is going on and make sure his client gets a fair and speedy trial. Other than that their duties are the same. They both are there to discredit the other. They both participate in jury selection and establish witnesses that will benefit their case. Both are responsible for presenting their case to the Judge and Jury, but if the case never reaches a trial it’s usually due to both sides plea-bargaining. This is ultimately the Judges decision but is usually the reason why some cases don’t go to trial. The Judge has a key role in the criminal justice system. He is elected into office by his peers and is ultimately the last person to make any decision in regards to a case. Although they don’t say much a Judge has a lot of duties and responsibilities and is one of the most important people needed in a courtroom. They are there from start to finish in any case. At the preliminary hearing they are responsible for making sure the accused is aware of their rights, they enter a plea of either guilty, not guilty or no contest, and the Judge also sets the bail. During the trial they decide what evidence will be allowed. Their understanding of the law is important when keeping order and how the court proceedings will be handled. During the trial the judge makes sure the accused rights aren’t violated. The Judge also makes sure that the jury understands what a person is charged with whether it is First –degree or second-degree murder. It is the Judges responsibility to make sure the Jury knows the difference. Last but not least they have control over the sentencing. This is the most important part aside from the Jury decision on whether or not the accused is guilty. Although The Judge’s role and responsibility seems to be the most important in the court, it is the role and respon sibility of the Jury that is needed more than anything. Everyone has the right to a trial by an â€Å"impartial† jury, which means that the trial will be fair. To be fair, some believe a person must be tried amongst a group of one’s peers. This means that they are from the same community/area. Sex, race and ethnicity have no bearings in any case, as far as jury selection. Jury’s bring diversity, different perspectives and views. It is up to the Defense and the Prosecution to make sure the right people are chosen, and that they will be more in favor of their case when presented in court. This is why Juror’s must go through a jury selection. People who will be beneficial to either the Prosecutions or Defenses case are kept and those who appear to have no bearings on the case aren’t selected. Once on the Jury they are given instructions by the judge on how the case will go, what they are to listen for, and what a person is charged with. Then they listen to the case and they are to determine if the accused i s responsible for their actions by a reasonable doubt. Meaning if there is any doubt in their mind that the accused is innocent, then the doubt is placed, and either they must be convicted of a lesser crime or the case must be dismissed period. All the evidence and witnesses presented in court is done with wondering how the jury will perceive it. Their impression on the evidence has the greatest impact and is ultimately what will determine the fate of the accused in all cases. That is why it is important that the Judge gives the verdict choices to the Jury and that he makes sure that the Jury understands them when they go to deliberate. They then return and give their verdict of guilty, not guilty to the offense the accused was charged or to a lesser charge period. Anyone can see that the Jury is important in any court proceedings. Jury’s will always have a key role in the court system and their role is most important. There are many roles and responsibilities in the court system. There are bailiffs, prosecutors, defense attorneys but the most important is the jury. Their roles and responsibilities are important and are needed to ensure that the criminal court system is run appropriately. That is why there is so much put into jury selection. They are the deciding factor in determining how long a person will be spending of their life in jail.

Organizational Behavior Leadership Analysis Social Work Essay

Organizational Behavior Leadership Analysis Social Work Essay Academic theories about employee motivation, empowerment and performance are just that theories, they are of little practical use to business leader or their companies, with reference covered to the material cover on the OBL course, and the people management of one Employee of Choice, please evaluate the validity of this statement. Organizational Behavior is the study of behavior of individual, group and people in the organization. It focuses in the relationship between individual and organization in the holistic manner. It focuses on meeting the social objectives, organizational level objectives and individual level objectives. (Leadership and Organizational Behavior, 2010) In managing the organizational behavior with in the organization, there are various managerial theories being proposed by various people to meet the organizational and individual requirement. The role of business leader is to effectively manage the workforce with in the organization to achieve the maximum output from the employees. It is also required from the business leaders to increase the productivity of the organization, to reduce employee turnover, to increase job satisfaction, to reduce absenteeism among the employees, to establish organizational citizenship. The productivity of the employees could be increased by increasing the motivational level of the employees and by imparting training and development programs. An organization is said productive if it converts its inputs into outputs at lowest operating costs. Organizational behavior studies help managers to understand the general behavior of the individuals, but not the exact behavior of the individual. For example Douglas McGregors Theory X and Theory Y give an idea about type of people in the organization. According to Theory X, people would tend to avoid the work and are not responsible, on the other hand according to Theory Y, people are self directed and self motivated. Now this theory does not highlight the exact reasons for being lazy and self-motivated. In this way organizational studies only direct the managers about the general concepts, but could not point the exact behavior of the individual. It is so because the behavior of individual may vary from situation to situation and may also differ from person to person. (Douglas McGregor-Human Relations Contributors, Theory X and Theory Y) The turnover of the employee is another important managerial duty to be considered by leaders. The increase in turnover costs high for the organization by increasing the recruitment, interview, selection and training costs. It is one of the essential parameter to be considered by the managers for increasing the efficiency of the organization. There could be various reasons for increased in turnover. It could be because of work environment, job position mismatch, compensation and rewards, job stress etc. It is required from the leaders to find out the reason for the increase in turnover. As there could be various different reasons for the increase in turnover, the organizational theories could not find the exact reason for the increase in turnover. The method that could be used by manager to find exact reason for the increased turnover could be interviews or survey. With the help of organizational behavior theories leaders could find out the general behavior of the group of employees in the organization, but it is required to carry out individual analysis to find the exact reason for the absenteeism with in the organization. Increasing the Job satisfaction is another important managerial duty. It is essential for leaders to maintain the job satisfaction level of the employees with in the organization. This would not only decrease the turnover of the employees but also generate the healthy environment with in the organization. Organizational Behavior theories help the managers to understand the general behavior of the employee about job satisfaction, but it does not showcase how to increase job satisfaction for a particular employee. According to dispositional theory individual who is happy in his life is happy at his job as well. According to this theory there are the factors affecting job satisfaction i.e. positive and negative affectivity, personality attributes and self evaluation. This theory as well does not find the actual reason specific to a particular individual and hence managers would need to carry out the analysis specific to the individual. Another important function of the business leaders is to reduce absenteeism among the employees. The reduction in absenteeism is directly related to the job dissatisfaction and improper work environment. It is required for the leaders to understand the individual needs and expectations of the individuals from the organization and meet those expectations. It is also observed that unhealthy work environment creates problem for the employee and in turn reduced their efficiency and hence productivity of the organization. Here as well leaders have to sit individually with the employees and seek out the possible hindrances for the employees with respect to work environment. The reasons for the unhealthy work environment could be racial discrimination, manager-subordinates relationship, gender discrimination, work pressures etc. Organization Behavior theories works as the general framework for the leaders but could not act as the specific solution for a particular organizational problem. It require extensive analysis and thorough understanding of the organization and individual behavior to meet the objectives of the organization. Question 2: With reference to Organizational Behavior leadership on gender inequity in organization, and you own work experience if relevant, evaluate the extent to which this issue will require further attention from public and private sector organization in the UAE now and in the future. How can local organization ensure that there is true equity of opportunity for their women Emirati employees and what will be the likely commercial benefits of doing this? Answer: Gender Inequality means differentiation between individuals on the basis of their gender. As per gender inequality the responsibility, human and social possibilities differ from men to that of women. (Long, 2001) It is found that most of the theories showcase the organizational structure as the reason for gender inequality. It is as per organizational structure which causes differences in roles, difference in position, and difference in behaviors between men and women. Materialist theory: As per this theory the connection of men and women with the societys economic structure causes the gender inequality. As per this theory, womens role of mother and wife in the society devalued its right to access high valued resources. Women are less paid as compared to the men in the labor class market. The reason for this is the social responsibility attached to women to take care of family and children. Division between Domestic and Public Work: Their role of mother and wife devalued their role social roles and hence high profile. Women are bound with the domestic responsibilities and hence have to take care of the family and have to invest time there as well. On the other hand men are free from domestic responsibilities and have greater access to high valued resources. It is noticed that there is inequality in pay of men and women, and women are paid less than men. It is also found that two-third of the women works in areas low profile areas like catering, cleaning, clerical jobs, caring jobs. The reason for women being paid less than men is that their job includes discontinuity because of maternity leaves, and to take care of family and children. Moreover still the ratio of highly qualifies women is less than that of men. This gives men an edge to work in high profile jobs and so being paid more than women. Gender Inequality in UAE: The UAE government is trying their best to reduce the gender inequality in UAE. In the year 2008, UAE is participating actively in reducing the gap of gender disparity by organizing various conferences for the same. Dubai School of Government along with Centre of Arab Women for Training and Research and World Bank, organizes a conference to narrow down the gender gap in North Africa and Middle East. The conference named Gender and Economics in MENA: from Theory to Policymaking (ZPRESS, 2008). The main purpose of the conference was to highlight the importance of high education over women. In the conference, Nabeel Al Yousuf, vice chairman of trustee board in Dubai School of Government, focused on gender inequality for the social, national and economic development. Community Development Authority is coordinating with various government and non-government organizations to maintain gender equality. (ZPRESS, 2008) In the recent years UAE has worked well in reducing the gender gap in the emirates. As per a report, UAE has topped in human development chart among gulf countries. Though the ratio of educated women is increasing, but still UAE needs to improve on gender equality. This gender inequality further drags the human development index of the country. The gender equality could be improved with the help of combined effort from public and private companies. Protect Women Rights: It is essential to get women aware of their rights and also make them aware how to fight against the violation of any basic right. This education would help them to fight for their basic rights. It is required for both public and private organizations to coordinate with Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination against Women (CEDAW) to protect the rights of women. Women Education: To increase the status of women in the society it is required to further increase the level and quality of education for women. To achieve the same it is required for public and private educational institutions to work together to achieve the common objective. Healthy Work Environment: It is required for the private and public organizations to maintain healthy work environment for the women at workplace. It could be done by providing facilities for women like pick and drop from home, work from home etc. The local organization could ensure the equal opportunity for women by ensuring that jobs are offered as per the qualification and not on the basis of gender. The pay should be equal as per the caliber and qualification of the individual. It is required for the local organization to create equal opportunities for both men and women and should not create any disparity between the two. Gender equality would ensure equal status for the women in the society and would increase their standard of living. It would ensure right investment of the income and less wastage of money. It has been found that women invest 90% of her income on family whereas men only invest 35% of his income on family. This would change political and public welfare policies would increase focus on women as well. Increase in education level of women would reduce the health problems and diseases in the society.

Environmental Impact of Green Companies Essay -- earth-friendly, Fair

There are many companies out there that claim to be â€Å"green†. But are they really and how much impact does it have on the environment? Labels such as â€Å"organic†, â€Å"biodegradable†, â€Å"earth-friendly†, vegan and â€Å"Fair Trade† are everywhere in today’s market. These labels are marketing tools used to influence consumers. Greenwashing is defined as â€Å"The dissemination of misleading information by an organization to conceal its abuse of the environment in order to present a positive public image † and â€Å"superficial or insincere display of concern for the environment that is shown by an organization † by thefreedictionary.com. â€Å"Going Green† may not be what it seems. It is not necessarily good for the environment. The Green movement is not about the environment as much as about consumerism and political agendas. While green products may be a better choice, they are still not enough to save the environment. When green is applied to food, it suggests foods that have been grown with minimal or no pesticides, organic fertilizers, no growth hormones, and humane conditions. However, this belief does not always accord with the reality. The example that I will discuss is eggs . I have chosen this example both because eggs are part of our everyday diet and because they get much attention in the media. Many people chose free range, organic brown eggs , believing them to be vastly superior. Brown eggs are usually more expensive than white eggs. The only real difference between a brown egg and a white egg is that brown eggs are laid by dark hens with red earlobes. However, many consumers believe that brown eggs have been laid by hens who have been fed food grown with minimal pesticides and fertilizers or that white eggs have been bleac... ...Kenner. Perf. Michael Pollan and Eric Schlosser. 2008. Hardner, Jared and Richard Rice. "Rethining GREEN CONSUMERISM." Scientific America 286.5 (2002). Peattie, Ken and Andrew Crane. "Green marketing: legend, myth, farce, or prophesy?" Qualitative Market Research: An International Joural 8.4 (2005): 357-370. Pedersen, Esben Rahbek and Peter Neergaard. "Caveat Emptor- Let the Buyer Beware! Environmental Labelling and the Limitations of 'Green' Consumerism." Business Strategy and the Environment 15 (2006): 15-19. Terra Choice Group Inc. "The Seven Sins of Greenwashing." 2009. unknown. E.7 Can green consumerism stop the ecological crisis? 2 Dec 2009 . Women's Voices for the Earth. "Issue Reports." September 2008. Women and Environment. 4 December 2009

Henry Moore Essay -- essays research papers fc

  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚     Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Many sculptors have come and gone over the years, leaving light traces or none at all of their presence in the sculpture realm. Henry Moore does not fit into either of these two categories. Because of his original style and techniques, Henry Moore has made a dramatic effect in present day sculpting. He has opened many doors for practicing artists in a sense that was not portrayed prior to his era. Henry Moore combined his childhood experiences with his interactions between other artists to develop his distinguishing style of sculpting.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Henry Moore was born in Castleford, Yorkshire on July 30,1898. He was the seventh of eight children to Raymond and Mary Moore. His father, Raymond Moore, worked at a local mining ore while his mother stayed at home tending Henry and his siblings. Henry first developed an interest for art while attending Sunday school. He specifically remembered a talk on Michelangelo, which initiated his interest in sculpting. Henry’s teachers all through secondary school encouraged his interest in the art field.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  When Henry Moore graduated from school, he was not too sure what he wanted to do with his life. His father preferred him to become a teacher, a social advance for children in mining villages. Moore pondered the thought of becoming a teacher and eventually fell into the field after there was a teacher shortage in 1914 due to people being called up for selected services. Moore spent three miserable years as a teacher before he was called up to Civil Services Rifles. The Civil Service Rifles was much more enjoyable for Moore and he would later write to his father about his pleasurable experiences.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  While fighting battles in France, Moore was injured and sent back to England to be hospitalized. Following the war, Moore was given a grant to further his education at Leeds School of Art. Moore received a scholarship to transfer from Leeds to Royal College of Art (RCA) in London, a more prestigious art institute. After Henry Moore’s graduation from RCA in 1924, he traveled to Italy to study a different culture’s artwork. His exposure to Italian artwork provided Moore with different views on the meaning of â€Å"art†.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  In 1926, Moore returned to RCA and took up teachin... ...culpture, Moore reenacts the moments right before death. This type of situation is probably something Moore can relate to because of his experiences in WWI.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Henry Moore left an everlasting impact on the world of art. The way he conveyed his emotions and feelings into his subject matter is inspirational to all who view his work. Moore introduced a new style of sculpting that defined the use of shape and rhythm. Moore’s artwork while be a model for future aspiring artists who want to explore new forms of sculpting. Bibliography Andrews, Julian. Henry Moore: Sculpting the 20th Century. Dallas: Yale University   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Press, 2001. Moore, Henry. Henry Moore: My Ideas, Inspirations, and Life as an Artist. New York:   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Collins and Brown. 1999. Green, Perry. Henry Moore: Biography. 2001. 19 October 2002.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  . Wallis, Anthony. Henry Moore. 2001. 15 October 2002.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  http://www.casandpont.freeserve.co.uk/moore.htm.

The Effects of Divorce on Children Essay -- Impact of Divorce on Child

Divorce is becoming a worldwide phenomenon, significantly affecting children’s well-being. It radically changes their future causing detrimental effects. According to (Julio CÃ ¡ceres-Delpiano and Eugenio Giolito, 2008) nearly 50% of marriages end with divorce. 90% of children who lived in the USA in the 1960s stayed with their own biological parents, whereas today it makes up only 40% (Hetherington, E. Mavis, and Margaret Stanley-Hagan, 1999). Such an unfavorable problem has been increasing, because in 1969, the legislation of California State changed the divorce laws, where spouses could leave without providing causes (Child Study Center, 2001). This resolution was accepted by the other states and later, the number of divorced people has been steadily growing. Such a typical situation is common for most countries in the world, which negatively affects children’s individuality. However, remarkably little amount of people can conceive the impact of marital separation c aused to offspring. (? passive) Many children after separation of parents are exposed to a number of changes in the future. They have to be getting used to a further living area, feelings and circumstances. Their response to divorce can vary and depends on age, gender and personal characteristics. This essay will show the effects of divorce on children under various aspects such as educational, psychological and social impact. In addition, it will contain data about the divorce rate in the US and present disparate reactions of children. It will also include adequate recommendations for parents as to how act to children after divorce, in order to minimize the adverse effect on children. Increasing divorce rate: During the 1960s and 1980s in the USA, there were signi... ...d become more successful. Works Cited Hetherington, E. Mavis, and Margaret Stanley-Hagan. "The Adjustment of Children with Divorced Parents: A Risk and Resiliency Perspective." Journal of Child Psychology & Psychiatry & Allied Disciplines 40, no. 1 (January 1999): 129. Academic Search Premier, EBSCOhost (accessed March 8, 2011). Sobolewski, Juliana M., and Paul R. Amato. 2007. "Parents' Discord and Divorce, Parent-Child Relationships and Subjective Well-Being in Early Adulthood: Is Feeling Close to Two Parents Always Better than Feeling Close to One?." Social Forces 85, no. 3: 1105-1124. Academic Search Premier, EBSCOhost (accessed March 8, 2011). Shansky, Janet. 2002. "NEGATIVE EFFECTS OF DIVORCE ON CHILD AND ADOLESCENT PSYCHOSOCIAL ADJUSTMENT." Journal of Pastoral Counseling 37, 73. Academic Search Premier, EBSCOhost (accessed March 8, 2011).

Career Paper ( Preschool Teacher) Essay

History Preschool is something very important for toddlers. Preschools were established in Europe around the late 1800’s. They were later introduced to the United States in the 1920’s. According to the Encyclopedia of careers and vocational guidance 9th edition â€Å"preschools expanded rapidly in the united states during the 1960’s†. Job Description Preschool teachers usually instruct children usually until they reach the age of five. They conduct activities designed to develop social, physical, and intellectual skills needed for primary school. During an interview I was told many things on the subject. â€Å"You need a lot of patience† said Esther Rodriguez a preschool teacher. There are many tasks needed to be done. While researching I came across plenty of information on the internet, Echoices says that some typical tasks are â€Å"planning individual and group activities, and monitor activities to prevent accidents and conflicts between children†. Nature of Work Preschool teachers play a very important role in the development of children. In the Encyclopedia of careers and vocational guidance 9th edition states that â€Å"a preschool teacher’s primary responsibility in the social development and health of each child†. Preschool teachers design activities that build on the children’s native abilities and help them develop skills and characteristics that will help them grow. What children learn and experience during their early years can shape their views of themselves and the world. Preschool teachers introduce children to math, language arts, science, and social studies. These subjects are taught using games, music, artwork, films, books, computers, and other tools to teach basic skills. The majority of children need adjusting when they first go to preschool it being their first time away from home and their parents. Because young children look up to adults and learn through examples, it’s important that the teachers are good role models. Education, training, qualifications, and work experience Licensing requirements for preschool teachers vary by state. Some states require a bachelor’s degree in Early Childhood Education and others require certification by a nationally recognized authority. The child development associate (CDA) credential which is the most common type of certification. It requires a mix of classroom training and experience working with children. This comes along with an independent of an individual’s competence. The Encyclopedia of careers and vocational guidance 11th edition shares some requirements. â€Å"In high school you should take child development, home economics, and other classes that involve you with child care†. It also says â€Å"you’ll also need a fundamental understanding of the general subjects you’ll be introducing to preschool students, so take English, science, and math†. Don’t forget art, music, and drama for creative skills. Florida Earnings 2003 Statewide average annual earnings $20,405 Statewide average hourly earnings $9. 81 Statewide entry level annual earnings $14,560 Statewide entry level hourly earnings $7. 00 Statewide experienced level annual earnings $22,090 Statewide experienced level hourly earnings $10. 62 Miami Earnings 2003 Average annual earnings $23,150 /hourly $11. 13 Entry level annual earnings $14,435 / hourly $6. 94 Experienced level annual earnings $27,414/ hourly $13. 18.

The Lost Symbol Chapter 52-57

CHAPTER 52 Mal'akh could feel the tattooed muscles on his back rippling as he sprinted back around the building toward the open bay door of Pod 5. I must gain access to her lab. Katherine's escape had been unanticipated . . . and problematic. Not only did she know where Mal'akh lived, she now knew his true identity . . . and that he was the one who had invaded their home a decade earlier. Mal'akh had not forgotten that night either. He had come within inches of possessing the pyramid, but destiny had obstructed him. I was not yet ready. But he was ready now. More powerful. More influential. Having endured unthinkable hardship in preparation for his return, Mal'akh was poised tonight to fulfill his destiny at last. He felt certain that before the night was over, he would indeed be staring into the dying eyes of Katherine Solomon. As Mal'akh reached the bay door, he reassured himself that Katherine had not truly escaped; she had only prolonged the inevitable. He slid through the opening and strode confidently across the darkness until his feet hit the carpet. Then he took a right turn and headed for the Cube. The banging on the door of Pod 5 had stopped, and Mal'akh suspected the guard was now trying to remove the dime Mal'akh had jammed into the key panel to render it useless. When Mal'akh reached the door that led into the Cube, he located the outer keypad and inserted Trish's key card. The panel lit up. He entered Trish's PIN and went inside. The lights were all ablaze, and as he moved into the sterile space, he squinted in amazement at the dazzling array of equipment. Mal'akh was no stranger to the power of technology; he performed his own breed of science in the basement of his home, and last night some of that science had borne fruit. The Truth. Peter Solomon's unique confinement–trapped alone in the in-between–had laid bare all of the man's secrets. I can see his soul. Mal'akh had learned certain secrets he anticipated, and others he had not, including the news about Katherine's lab and her shocking discoveries. Science is getting close, Mal'akh had realized. And I will not allow it to light the way for the unworthy. Katherine's work here had begun using modern science to answer ancient philosophical questions. Does anyone hear our prayers? Is there life after death? Do humans have souls? Incredibly, Katherine had answered all of these questions, and more. Scientifically. Conclusively. The methods she used were irrefutable. Even the most skeptical of people would be persuaded by the results of her experiments. If this information were published and made known, a fundamental shift would begin in the consciousness of man. They will start to find their way. Mal'akh's last task tonight, before his transformation, was to ensure that this did not happen. As he moved through the lab, Mal'akh located the data room that Peter had told him about. He peered through the heavy glass walls at the two holographic data-storage units. Exactly as he said they would be. Mal'akh found it hard to imagine that the contents of these little boxes could change the course of human development, and yet Truth had always been the most potent of all the catalysts. Eyeing the holographic storage units, Mal'akh produced Trish's key card and inserted it in the door's security panel. To his surprise, the panel did not light up. Apparently, access to this room was not a trust extended to Trish Dunne. He now reached for the key card he had found in Katherine's lab-coat pocket. When he inserted this one, the panel lit up. Mal'akh had a problem. I never got Katherine's PIN. He tried Trish's PIN, but it didn't work. Stroking his chin, he stepped back and examined the three-inch-thick Plexiglas door. Even with an ax, he knew he would be unable to break through and obtain the drives he needed to destroy. Mal'akh had planned for this contingency, however. Inside the power-supply room, exactly as Peter had described, Mal'akh located the rack holding several metal cylinders resembling large scuba tanks. The cylinders bore the letters LH, the number 2, and the universal symbol for combustible. One of the canisters was connected to the lab's hydrogen fuel cell. Mal'akh left one canister connected and carefully heaved one of the reserve cylinders down onto a dolly beside the rack. Then he rolled the cylinder out of the power-supply room, across the lab, to the Plexiglas door of the data-storage room. Although this location would certainly be plenty close enough, he had noticed one weakness in the heavy Plexiglas door–the small space between the bottom and the jamb. At the threshold, he carefully laid the canister on its side and slid the flexible rubber tube beneath the door. It took him a moment to remove the safety seals and access the cylinder's valve, but once he did, ever so gently, he uncocked the valve. Through the Plexiglas, he could see the clear, bubbling liquid begin draining out of the tube onto the floor inside the storage room. Mal'akh watched the puddle expand, oozing across the floor, steaming and bubbling as it grew. Hydrogen remained in liquid form only when it was cold, and as it warmed up, it would start to boil off. The resulting gas, conveniently, was even more flammable than the liquid. Remember the Hindenburg. Mal'akh hurried now into the lab and retrieved the Pyrex jug of Bunsen-burner fuel–a viscous, highly flammable, yet noncombustible oil. He carried it to the Plexiglas door, pleased to see the liquid hydrogen canister was still draining, the puddle of boiling liquid inside the data-storage room now covering the entire floor, encircling the pedestals that supported the holographic storage units. A whitish mist now rose from the boiling puddle as the liquid hydrogen began turning to gas . . . filling the small space. Mal'akh raised the jug of Bunsen-burner fuel and squirted a healthy amount on the hydrogen canister, the tubing, and into the small opening beneath the door. Then, very carefully, he began backing out of the lab, leaving an unbroken stream of oil on the floor as he went. The dispatch operator handling 911 calls for Washington, D.C., had been unusually busy tonight. Football, beer, and a full moon, she thought as yet another emergency call appeared on her screen, this one from a gas-station pay phone on the Suitland Parkway in Anacostia. A car accident probably. â€Å"Nine-one-one,† she answered. â€Å"What is your emergency?† â€Å"I was just attacked at the Smithsonian Museum Support Center,† a panicked woman's voice said. â€Å"Please send the police! Forty-two-ten Silver Hill Road!† â€Å"Okay, slow down,† the operator said. â€Å"You need to–â€Å" â€Å"I need you to send officers also to a mansion in Kalorama Heights where I think my brother may be held captive!† The operator sighed. Full moon. CHAPTER 53 As I tried to tell you,† Bellamy was saying to Langdon, â€Å"there is more to this pyramid than meets the eye.† Apparently so. Langdon had to admit that the stone pyramid sitting in his unzipped daybag looked much more mysterious to him now. His decryption of the Masonic cipher had rendered a seemingly meaningless grid of letters. Chaos. For a long while, Langdon examined the grid, searching for any hint of meaning within the letters–hidden words, anagrams, clues of any sort–but he found nothing. â€Å"The Masonic Pyramid,† Bellamy explained, â€Å"is said to guard its secrets behind many veils. Each time you pull back a curtain, you face another. You have unveiled these letters, and yet they tell you nothing until you peel back another layer. Of course, the way to do that is known only to the one who holds the capstone. The capstone, I suspect, has an inscription as well, which tells you how to decipher the pyramid.† Langdon glanced at the cube-shaped package on the desk. From what Bellamy had said, Langdon now understood that the capstone and pyramid were a â€Å"segmented cipher†Ã¢â‚¬â€œa code broken into pieces. Modern cryptologists used segmented ciphers all the time, although the security scheme had been invented in ancient Greece. The Greeks, when they wanted to store secret information, inscribed it on a clay tablet and then shattered the tablet into pieces, storing each piece in a separate location. Only when all the pieces were gathered together could the secrets be read. This kind of inscribed clay tablet–called a symbolon–was in fact the origin of the modern word symbol. â€Å"Robert,† Bellamy said, â€Å"this pyramid and capstone have been kept apart for generations, ensuring the secret's safety.† His tone turned rueful. â€Å"Tonight, however, the pieces have come dangerously close. I'm sure I don't have to say this . . . but it is our duty to ensure this pyramid is not assembled.† Langdon found Bellamy's sense of drama to be somewhat overwrought. Is he describing the capstone and pyramid . . . or a detonator and nuclear bomb? He still couldn't quite accept Bellamy's claims, but it hardly seemed to matter. â€Å"Even if this is the Masonic Pyramid, and even if this inscription does somehow reveal the location of ancient knowledge, how could that knowledge possibly impart the kind of power it is said to impart?† â€Å"Peter always told me you were a hard man to convince–an academic who prefers proof to speculation.† â€Å"You're saying you do believe that?† Langdon demanded, feeling impatient now. â€Å"Respectfully . . . you are a modern, educated man. How could you believe such a thing?† Bellamy gave a patient smile. â€Å"The craft of Freemasonry has given me a deep respect for that which transcends human understanding. I've learned never to close my mind to an idea simply because it seems miraculous.† CHAPTER 54 Frantically, the SMSC perimeter patrolman dashed down the gravel pathway that ran along the outside of the building. He'd just received a call from an officer inside saying that the keypad to Pod 5 had been sabotaged, and that a security light indicated that Pod 5's specimen bay door was now open. What the hell is going on?! As he arrived at the specimen bay, sure enough he found the door open a couple of feet. Bizarre, he thought. This can only be unlocked from the inside. He took the flashlight off his belt and shone it into the inky blackness of the pod. Nothing. Having no desire to step into the unknown, he moved only as far as the threshold and then stuck the flashlight through the opening, swinging it to the left, and then to the– Powerful hands seized his wrist and yanked him into the blackness. The guard felt himself being spun around by an invisible force. He smelled ethanol. The flashlight flew out of his hand, and before he could even process what was happening, a rock-hard fist collided with his sternum. The guard crumpled to the cement floor . . . groaning in pain as a large black form stepped away from him. The guard lay on his side, gasping and wheezing for breath. His flashlight lay nearby, its beam spilling across the floor and illuminating what appeared to be a metal can of some sort. The can's label said it was fuel oil for a Bunsen burner. A cigarette lighter sparked, and the orange flame illuminated a vision that hardly seemed human. Jesus Christ! The guard barely had time to process what he was seeing before the bare-chested creature knelt down and touched the flame to the floor. Instantly, a strip of fire materialized, leaping away from them, racing into the void. Bewildered, the guard looked back, but the creature was already slipping out the open bay door into the night. The guard managed to sit up, wincing in pain as his eyes followed the thin ribbon of fire. What the hell?! The flame looked too small to be truly dangerous, and yet now he saw something utterly terrifying. The fire was no longer illuminating only the darkened void. It had traveled all the way to the back wall, where it was now illuminating a massive cinder-block structure. The guard had never been permitted inside Pod 5, but he knew very well what this structure must be. The Cube. Katherine Solomon's lab. The flame raced in a straight line directly to the lab's outer door. The guard clambered to his feet, knowing full well that the ribbon of oil probably continued beneath the lab door . . . and would soon start a fire inside. But as he turned to run for help, he felt an unexpected puff of air sucking past him. For a brief instant, all of Pod 5 was bathed in light. The guard never saw the hydrogen fireball erupting skyward, ripping the roof off Pod 5 and billowing hundreds of feet into the air. Nor did he see the sky raining fragments of titanium mesh, electronic equipment, and droplets of melted silicon from the lab's holographic storage units. Katherine Solomon was driving north when she saw the sudden flash of light in her rearview mirror. A deep rumble thundered through the night air, startling her. Fireworks? she wondered. Do the Redskins have a halftime show? She refocused on the road, her thoughts still on the 911 call she'd placed from the deserted gas station's pay phone. Katherine had successfully convinced the 911 dispatcher to send the police to the SMSC to investigate a tattooed intruder and, Katherine prayed, to find her assistant, Trish. In addition, she urged the dispatcher to check Dr. Abaddon's address in Kalorama Heights, where she thought Peter was being held hostage. Unfortunately, Katherine had been unable to obtain Robert Langdon's unlisted cell-phone number. So now, seeing no other option, she was speeding toward the Library of Congress, where Langdon had told her he was headed. The terrifying revelation of Dr. Abaddon's true identity had changed everything. Katherine had no idea what to believe anymore. All she knew for certain was that the same man who had killed her mother and nephew all those years ago had now captured her brother and had come to kill her. Who is this madman? What does he want? The only answer she could come up with made no sense. A pyramid? Equally confusing was why this man had come to her lab tonight. If he wanted to hurt her, why hadn't he done so in the privacy of his own home earlier today? Why go to the trouble of sending a text message and risk breaking into her lab? Unexpectedly, the fireworks in her rearview mirror grew brighter, the initial flash followed by an unexpected sight–a blazing orange fireball that Katherine could see rising above the tree line. What in the world?! The fireball was accompanied by dark black smoke . . . and it was nowhere near the Redskins' FedEx Field. Bewildered, she tried to determine what industry might be located on the other side of those trees . . . just southeast of the parkway. Then, like an oncoming truck, it hit her. CHAPTER 55 Warren Bellamy stabbed urgently at the buttons on his cell phone, trying again to make contact with someone who could help them, whoever that might be. Langdon watched Bellamy, but his mind was with Peter, trying to figure out how best to find him. Decipher the engraving, Peter's captor had commanded, and it will tell you the hiding place of mankind's greatest treasure . . . We will go together . . . and make our trade. Bellamy hung up, frowning. Still no answer. â€Å"Here's what I don't understand,† Langdon said. â€Å"Even if I could somehow accept that this hidden wisdom exists . . . and that this pyramid somehow points to its underground location . . . what am I looking for? A vault? A bunker?† Bellamy sat quietly for a long moment. Then he gave a reluctant sigh and spoke guardedly. â€Å"Robert, according to what I've heard through the years, the pyramid leads to the entrance of a spiral staircase.† â€Å"A staircase?† â€Å"That's right. A staircase that leads down into the earth . . . many hundreds of feet.† Langdon could not believe what he was hearing. He leaned closer. â€Å"I've heard it said that the ancient wisdom is buried at the bottom.† Robert Langdon stood up and began pacing. A spiral staircase descending hundreds of feet into the earth . . . in Washington, D.C. â€Å"And nobody has ever seen this staircase?† â€Å"Allegedly the entrance has been covered with an enormous stone.† Langdon sighed. The idea of a tomb covered with an enormous stone was right out of the biblical accounts of Jesus' tomb. This archetypal hybrid was the grandfather of them all. â€Å"Warren, do you believe this secret mystical staircase into the earth exists?† â€Å"I've never seen it personally, but a few of the older Masons swear it exists. I was trying to call one of them just now.† Langdon continued pacing, uncertain what to say next. â€Å"Robert, you leave me a difficult task with respect to this pyramid.† Warren Bellamy's gaze hardened in the soft glow of the reading lamp. â€Å"I know of no way to force a man to believe what he does not want to believe. And yet I hope you understand your duty to Peter Solomon.† Yes, I have a duty to help him, Langdon thought. â€Å"I don't need you to believe in the power this pyramid can unveil. Nor do I need you to believe in the staircase it supposedly leads to. But I do need you to believe that you are morally obliged to protect this secret . . . whatever it may be.† Bellamy motioned to the little cube-shaped package. â€Å"Peter entrusted the capstone to you because he had faith you would obey his wishes and keep it secret. And now you must do exactly that, even if it means sacrificing Peter's life.† Langdon stopped short and wheeled around. â€Å"What?!† Bellamy remained seated, his expression pained but resolute. â€Å"It's what he would want. You need to forget Peter. He's gone. Peter did his job, doing the best he could to protect the pyramid. Now it is our job to make sure his efforts were not in vain.† â€Å"I can't believe you're saying this!† Langdon exclaimed, temper flaring. â€Å"Even if this pyramid is everything you say it is, Peter is your Masonic brother. You're sworn to protect him above all else, even your country!† â€Å"No, Robert. A Mason must protect a fellow Mason above all things . . . except one–the great secret our brotherhood protects for all mankind. Whether or not I believe this lost wisdom has the potential that history suggests, I have taken a vow to keep it out of the hands of the unworthy. And I would not give it over to anyone . . . even in exchange for Peter Solomon's life.† â€Å"I know plenty of Masons,† Langdon said angrily, â€Å"including the most advanced, and I'm damned sure these men are not sworn to sacrifice their lives for the sake of a stone pyramid. And I'm also damned sure none of them believes in a secret staircase that descends to a treasure buried deep in the earth.† â€Å"There are circles within circles, Robert. Not everyone knows everything.† Langdon exhaled, trying to control his emotions. He, like everyone, had heard the rumors of elite circles within the Masons. Whether or not it was true seemed irrelevant in the face of this situation. â€Å"Warren, if this pyramid and capstone truly reveal the ultimate Masonic secret, then why would Peter involve me? I'm not even a brother . . . much less part of any inner circle.† â€Å"I know, and I suspect that is precisely why Peter chose you to guard it. This pyramid has been targeted in the past, even by those who infiltrated our brotherhood with unworthy motives. Peter's choice to store it outside the brotherhood was a clever one.† â€Å"Were you aware I had the capstone?† Langdon asked. â€Å"No. And if Peter told anyone at all, it would have been only one man.† Bellamy pulled out his cell phone and hit redial. â€Å"And so far, I've been unable to reach him.† He got a voice-mail greeting and hung up. â€Å"Well, Robert, it looks like you and I are on our own for the moment. And we have a decision to make.† Langdon looked at his Mickey Mouse watch. 9:42 P.M. â€Å"You do realize that Peter's captor is waiting for me to decipher this pyramid tonight and tell him what it says.† Bellamy frowned. â€Å"Great men throughout history have made deep personal sacrifices to protect the Ancient Mysteries. You and I must do the same.† He stood up now. â€Å"We should keep moving. Sooner or later Sato will figure out where we are.† â€Å"What about Katherine?!† Langdon demanded, not wanting to leave. â€Å"I can't reach her, and she never called.† â€Å"Obviously, something happened.† â€Å"But we can't just abandon her!† â€Å"Forget Katherine!† Bellamy said, his voice commanding now. â€Å"Forget Peter! Forget everyone! Don't you understand, Robert, that you've been entrusted with a duty that is bigger than all of us–you, Peter, Katherine, myself?† He locked eyes with Langdon. â€Å"We need to find a safe place to hide this pyramid and capstone far from–â€Å" A loud metallic crash echoed in the direction of the great hall. Bellamy wheeled, eyes filling with fear. â€Å"That was fast.† Langdon turned toward the door. The sound apparently had come from the metal bucket that Bellamy had placed on the ladder blocking the tunnel doors. They're coming for us. Then, quite unexpectedly, the crash echoed again. And again. And again. The homeless man on the bench in front of the Library of Congress rubbed his eyes and watched the strange scene unfolding before him. A white Volvo had just jumped the curb, lurched across the deserted pedestrian walkway, and screeched to a halt at the foot of the library's main entrance. An attractive, dark-haired woman had leaped out, anxiously surveyed the area, and, spotting the homeless man, had shouted, â€Å"Do you have a phone?† Lady, I don't have a left shoe. Apparently realizing as much, the woman dashed up the staircase toward the library's main doors. Arriving at the top of the stairs, she grabbed the handle and tried desperately to open each of the three giant doors. The library's closed, lady. But the woman didn't seem to care. She seized one of the heavy ring-shaped handles, heaved it backward, and let it fall with a loud crash against the door. Then she did it again. And again. And again. Wow, the homeless man thought, she must really need a book. CHAPTER 56 When Katherine Solomon finally saw the massive bronze doors of the library swing open before her, she felt as if an emotional floodgate had burst. All the fear and confusion she had bottled up tonight came pouring through. The figure in the library doorway was Warren Bellamy, a friend and confidant of her brother's. But it was the man behind Bellamy in the shadows whom Katherine felt happiest to see. The feeling was apparently mutual. Robert Langdon's eyes filled with relief as she rushed through the doorway . . . directly into his arms. As Katherine lost herself in the comforting embrace of an old friend, Bellamy closed the front door. She heard the heavy lock click into place, and at last she felt safe. Tears came unexpectedly, but she fought them back. Langdon held her. â€Å"It's okay,† he whispered. â€Å"You're okay.† Because you saved me, Katherine wanted to tell him. He destroyed my lab . . . all my work. Years of research . . . up in smoke. She wanted to tell him everything, but she could barely breathe. â€Å"We'll find Peter.† Langdon's deep voice resonated against her chest, comforting her somehow. â€Å"I promise.† I know who did this! Katherine wanted to yell. The same man who killed my mother and nephew! Before she could explain herself, an unexpected sound broke the silence of the library. The loud crash echoed up from beneath them in a vestibule stairwell–as if a large metal object had fallen on a tile floor. Katherine felt Langdon's muscles stiffen instantly. Bellamy stepped forward, his expression dire. â€Å"We're leaving. Now.† Bewildered, Katherine followed as the Architect and Langdon hurried across the great hall toward the library's famed reading room, which was ablaze with light. Bellamy quickly locked the two sets of doors behind them, first the outer, then the inner. Katherine followed in a daze as Bellamy hustled them both toward the center of the room. The threesome arrived at a reading desk where a leather bag sat beneath a light. Beside the bag, there was a tiny cube-shaped package, which Bellamy scooped up and placed inside the bag, alongside a– Katherine stopped short. A pyramid? Although she had never seen this engraved stone pyramid, she felt her entire body recoil in recognition. Somehow her gut knew the truth. Katherine Solomon had just come face-to-face with the object that had so deeply damaged her life. The pyramid. Bellamy zipped up the bag and handed it to Langdon. â€Å"Don't let this out of your sight.† A sudden explosion rocked the room's outer doors. The tinkling of shattered glass followed. â€Å"This way!† Bellamy spun, looking scared now as he rushed them over to the central circulation desk–eight counters around a massive octagonal cabinet. He guided them in behind the counters and then pointed to an opening in the cabinet. â€Å"Get in there!† â€Å"In there?† Langdon demanded. â€Å"They'll find us for sure!† â€Å"Trust me,† Bellamy said. â€Å"It's not what you think.† CHAPTER 57 Mal'akh gunned his limousine north toward Kalorama Heights. The explosion in Katherine's lab had been bigger than he had anticipated, and he had been lucky to escape unscathed. Conveniently, the ensuing chaos had enabled him to slip out without opposition, powering his limousine past a distracted gate guard who was busy yelling into a telephone. I've got to get off the road, he thought. If Katherine hadn't yet phoned the police, the explosion would certainly draw their attention. And a shirtless man driving a limousine would be hard to miss. After years of preparation, Mal'akh could scarcely believe the night was now upon him. The journey to this moment had been a long, difficult one. What began years ago in misery . . . will end tonight in glory. On the night it all began, he had not had the name Mal'akh. In fact, on the night it all began, he had not had any name at all. Inmate 37. Like most of the prisoners at the brutal Soganlik Prison outside of Istanbul, Inmate 37 was here because of drugs. He had been lying on his bunk in a cement cell, hungry and cold in the darkness, wondering how long he would be incarcerated. His new cellmate, whom he'd met only twenty-four hours ago, was sleeping in the bunk above him. The prison administrator, an obese alcoholic who hated his job and took it out on the inmates, had just killed all the lights for the night. It was almost ten o'clock when Inmate 37 heard the conversation filtering in through the ventilation shaft. The first voice was unmistakably clear–the piercing, belligerent accent of the prison administrator, who clearly did not appreciate being woken up by a late-night visitor. â€Å"Yes, yes, you've come a long way,† he was saying, â€Å"but there are no visitors for the first month. State regulations. No exceptions.† The voice that replied was soft and refined, filled with pain. â€Å"Is my son safe?† â€Å"He is a drug addict.† â€Å"Is he being treated well?† â€Å"Well enough,† the administrator said. â€Å"This is not a hotel.† There was a pained pause. â€Å"You do realize the U.S. State Department will request extradition.† â€Å"Yes, yes, they always do. It will be granted, although the paperwork might take us a couple of weeks . . . or even a month . . . depending.† â€Å"Depending on what?† â€Å"Well,† the administrator said, â€Å"we are understaffed.† He paused. â€Å"Of course, sometimes concerned parties like yourself make donations to the prison staff to help us push things through more quickly.† The visitor did not reply. â€Å"Mr. Solomon,† the administrator continued, lowering his voice, â€Å"for a man like yourself, for whom money is no object, there are always options. I know people in government. If you and I work together, we may be able to get your son out of here . . . tomorrow, with all the charges dropped. He would not even have to face prosecution at home.† The response was immediate. â€Å"Forgetting the legal ramifications of your suggestion, I refuse to teach my son that money solves all problems or that there is no accountability in life, especially in a serious matter like this.† â€Å"You'd like to leave him here?† â€Å"I'd like to speak to him. Right now.† â€Å"As I said, we have rules. Your son is unavailable to you . . . unless you would like to negotiate his immediate release.† A cold silence hung for several moments. â€Å"The State Department will be contacting you. Keep Zachary safe. I expect him on a plane home within the week. Good night.† The door slammed. Inmate 37 could not believe his ears. What kind of father leaves his son in this hellhole in order to teach him a lesson? Peter Solomon had even rejected an offer to clear Zachary's record. It was later that night, lying awake in his bunk, that Inmate 37 had realized how he would free himself. If money was the only thing separating a prisoner from freedom, then Inmate 37 was as good as free. Peter Solomon might not be willing to part with money, but as anyone who read the tabloids knew, his son, Zachary, had plenty of money, too. The next day, Inmate 37 spoke privately to the administrator and suggested a plan–a bold, ingenious scheme that would give them both exactly what they wanted. â€Å"Zachary Solomon would have to die for this to work,† explained Inmate 37. â€Å"But we could both disappear immediately. You could retire to the Greek Islands. You would never see this place again.† After some discussion, the two men shook hands. Soon Zachary Solomon will be dead, Inmate 37 thought, smiling to think how easy it would be. It was two days later that the State Department contacted the Solomon family with the horrific news. The prison snapshots showed their son's brutally bludgeoned body, lying curled and lifeless on the floor of his prison cell. His head had been bashed in by a steel bar, and the rest of him was battered and twisted beyond what was humanly imaginable. He appeared to have been tortured and finally killed. The prime suspect was the prison administrator himself, who had disappeared, probably with all of the murdered boy's money. Zachary had signed papers moving his vast fortune into a private numbered account, which had been emptied immediately following his death. There was no telling where the money was now. Peter Solomon flew to Turkey on a private jet and returned with their son's casket, which they buried in the Solomon family cemetery. The prison administrator was never found. Nor would he be, Inmate 37 knew. The Turk's rotund body was now resting at the bottom of the Sea of Marmara, feeding the blue manna crabs that migrated in through the Bosporus Strait. The vast fortune belonging to Zachary Solomon had all been moved to an untraceable numbered account. Inmate 37 was a free man again–a free man with a massive fortune. The Greek Islands were like heaven. The light. The water. The women. There was nothing money couldn't buy–new identities, new passports, new hope. He chose a Greek name–Andros Dareios–Andros meaning â€Å"warrior,† and Dareios meaning â€Å"wealthy.† The dark nights in prison had frightened him, and Andros vowed never to go back. He shaved off his shaggy hair and shunned the drug world entirely. He began life anew–exploring never- before-imagined sensual pleasures. The serenity of sailing alone on the ink-blue Aegean Sea became his new heroin trance; the sensuality of sucking moist arni souvlakia right off the skewer became his new Ecstasy; and the rush of cliff diving into the foam-filled ravines of Mykonos became his new cocaine. I am reborn. Andros bought a sprawling villa on the island of Syros and settled in among the bella gente in the exclusive town of Possidonia. This new world was a community not only of wealth, but of culture and physical perfection. His neighbors took great pride in their bodies and minds, and it was contagious. The newcomer suddenly found himself jogging on the beach, tanning his pale body, and reading books. Andros read Homer's Odyssey, captivated by the images of powerful bronze men doing battle on these islands. The next day, he began lifting weights, and was amazed to see how quickly his chest and arms grew larger. Gradually, he began to feel women's eyes on him, and the admiration was intoxicating. He longed to grow stronger still. And he did. With the help of aggressive cycles of steroids intermixed with black-market growth hormones and endless hours of weight lifting, Andros transformed himself into something he had never imagined he could be–a perfect male specimen. He grew in bot h height and musculature, developing flawless pectorals and massive, sinewy legs, which he kept perfectly tanned. Everyone was looking now. As Andros had been warned, the heavy steroids and hormones changed not only his body, but also his voice box, giving him an eerie, breathy whisper, which made him feel more mysterious. The soft, enigmatic voice, combined with his new body, his wealth, and his refusal to speak about his mysterious past, served as catnip for the women who met him. They gave themselves willingly, and he satisfied them all–from fashion models visiting his island on photo shoots, to nubile American college girls on vacation, to the lonely wives of his neighbors, to the occasional young man. They could not get enough. I am a masterpiece. As the years passed, however, Andros's sexual adventures began to lose their thrill. As did everything. The island's sumptuous cuisine lost its taste, books no longer held his interest, and even the dazzling sunsets from his villa looked dull. How could this be? He was only in his midtwenties, and yet he felt old. What more is there to life? He had sculpted his body into a masterpiece; he had educated himself and nourished his mind with culture; he had made his home in paradise; and he had the love of anyone he desired. And yet, incredibly, he felt as empty as he had in that Turkish prison. What is it I am missing? The answer had come to him several months later. Andros was sitting alone in his villa, absently surfing channels in the middle of the night, when he stumbled across a program about the secrets of Freemasonry. The show was poorly done, posing more questions than answers, and yet he found himself intrigued by the plethora of conspiracy theories surrounding the brotherhood. The narrator described legend after legend. Freemasons and the New World Order . . . The Great Masonic Seal of the United States . . . The P2 Masonic Lodge . . . The Lost Secret of Freemasonry . . . The Masonic Pyramid . . . Andros sat up, startled. Pyramid. The narrator began recounting the story of a mysterious stone pyramid whose encrypted engraving promised to lead to lost wisdom and unfathomable power. The story, though seemingly implausible, sparked in him a distant memory . . . a faint recollection from a much darker time. Andros remembered what Zachary Solomon had heard from his father about a mysterious pyramid. Could it be? Andros strained to recall the details. When the show ended, he stepped out onto the balcony, letting the cool air clear his mind. He remembered more now, and as it all came back, he began to sense there might be some truth to this legend after all. And if so, then Zachary Solomon–although long dead–still had something to offer. What do I have to lose? Three weeks later, his timing carefully planned, Andros stood in the frigid cold outside the conservatory of the Solomons' Potomac estate. Through the glass, he could see Peter Solomon chatting and laughing with his sister, Katherine. It looks like they've had no trouble forgetting Zachary, he thought. Before he pulled the ski mask over his face, Andros took a hit of cocaine, his first in ages. He felt the familiar rush of fearlessness. He pulled out a handgun, used an old key to unlock the door, and stepped inside. â€Å"Hello, Solomons.† Unfortunately, the night had not gone as Andros had planned. Rather than obtaining the pyramid for which he had come, he found himself riddled with bird shot and fleeing across the snow- covered lawn toward the dense woods. To his surprise, behind him, Peter Solomon was giving chase, pistol glinting in his hand. Andros dashed into the woods, running down a trail along the edge of a deep ravine. Far below, the sounds of a waterfall echoed up through the crisp winter air. He passed a stand of oak trees and rounded a corner to his left. Seconds later, he was skidding to a stop on the icy path, narrowly escaping death. My God! Only feet in front of him, the path ended, plunging straight down into an icy river far below. The large boulder at the side of the path had been carved by the unskilled hand of a child: On the far side of the ravine, the path continued on. So where's the bridge?! The cocaine was no longer working. I'm trapped! Panicking now, Andros turned to flee back up the path, but he found himself facing Peter Solomon, who stood breathless before him, pistol in hand. Andros looked at the gun and took a step backward. The drop behind him was at least fifty feet to an ice-covered river. The mist from the waterfall upstream billowed around them, chilling him to the bone. â€Å"Zach's bridge rotted out long ago,† Solomon said, panting. â€Å"He was the only one who ever came down this far.† Solomon held the gun remarkably steady. â€Å"Why did you kill my son?† â€Å"He was nothing,† Andros replied. â€Å"A drug addict. I did him a favor.† Solomon moved closer, gun aimed directly at Andros's chest. â€Å"Perhaps I should do you the same favor.† His tone was surprisingly fierce. â€Å"You bludgeoned my son to death. How does a man do such a thing?† â€Å"Men do the unthinkable when pushed to the brink.† â€Å"You killed my son!† â€Å"No,† Andros replied, hotly now. â€Å"You killed your son. What kind of man leaves his son in a prison when he has the option to get him out! You killed your son! Not me.† â€Å"You know nothing!† Solomon yelled, his voice filled with pain. You're wrong, Andros thought. I know everything. Peter Solomon drew closer, only five yards away now, gun leveled. Andros's chest was burning, and he could tell he was bleeding badly. The warmth ran down over his stomach. He looked over his shoulder at the drop. Impossible. He turned back to Solomon. â€Å"I know more about you than you think,† he whispered. â€Å"I know you are not the kind of man who kills in cold blood.† Solomon stepped closer, taking dead aim. â€Å"I'm warning you,† Andros said, â€Å"if you pull that trigger, I will haunt you forever.† â€Å"You already will.† And with that, Solomon fired. As he raced his black limousine back toward Kalorama Heights, the one who now called himself Mal'akh reflected on the miraculous events that had delivered him from certain death atop that icy ravine. He had been transformed forever. The gunshot had echoed only for an instant, and yet its effects had reverberated across decades. His body, once tanned and perfect, was now marred by scars from that night . . . scars he kept hidden beneath the tattooed symbols of his new identity. I am Mal'akh. This was my destiny all along. He had walked through fire, been reduced to ashes, and then emerged again . . . transformed once more. Tonight would be the final step of his long and magnificent journey.