Day Eight Hundred Seventeen #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Watching the ships in the harbor last night mesmerized me. Their lights traced ever-moving, intricate patterns.

And at the same time they spoke of the affluence and commercial power we saw reflected in our surroundings today.

Quasimo took us through this area of garden-like estates, or palaces (for lack of a better word). We saw no one except at a distance, gardeners at work or servants of some kind.

Quasimo had us stop for a simple meal at one whose owner he knew. The master was away and the servants knew not to refuse him.

All was well until the time of our leaving. One of the servants noticed that Quasimo no longer bore the mark.

We ran.

Day Six Hundred Fifty Two #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Lights appeared in the sky again last night. Not concentrated anywhere, but criss-crossing haphazardly.

We were left wondering. Were they looking for us? Or for the army?

Tomas was hard pressed to believe that they could miss anything the size of that juggernaut of an army. So he concluded that we were its object.

Neither Elijah nor I felt concern as all of them were very wide of our mark.

What we did have concern for was the pinpoint glow of a fire off in the distance. At a point for which we were headed.

It could only be the mysterious group whose camp we have come upon twice now..

We turned in with much to fuel our dreams.

Day Six Hundred Forty Four #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Through a mutual agreement Elijah and I kept an eye on our friend lest he do something rash. I kept him engaged in conversation and later accompanied him to the cave. There we prayed for Tomas.

Later upon our return, the sky to the south was filled with more lights than ever. The Captain asked Elijah how long it had been going on. His reply upset him. And the Captain demanded to know why we had not been fetched. Before he could answer, a string of flashes lit up the foothills below the high mountains.

There was no stopping the Captain at that point. But we managed to limit our travel backward to the amount of night left to us.

Day Five Hundred Ninety Two #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Though by the ship’s clock, it was past midday when we arrived at the gateway to the East, the lights of the city were still lit against the cloying darkness.

The water was motionless and all sound muffled as we maneuvered up to our berth.

Workers appeared from nowhere to secure our lines and hurried back out of sight.

It was an odd welcome. Like they were fearful to approach.

This notion was indeed confirmed by the timid port official who finally dared to come aboard. Rumors were rife that we somehow were responsible for the unending night.

The two guards debarked with P as soon as they could. In one last audience we laid hands on him and prayed.

Day Four Hundred Ninety Four #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Many of the villages we are passing have lights within. And dogs which bark at us. A few even chased us. But not for long. When Elijah turned on them, staff in hand, they stopped in their tracks and bolted for home.

The image of Stan continues to haunt us. His visage stares out from posters plastered on walls throughout the villages and towns. Some have incense burning before them and offerings of bits of fruit. It turns my stomach. Elijah does not even deign to look.

Some are wary of us. Most are just curious.

Elijah learned that there is excitement about the upcoming census. And I learned that the prospect of renewed global communication is all the buzz.

Day Three Hundred Thirteen #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

We sighted land late in the afternoon. With the fall of night the ship will anchor at sea until the dawn. There is nothing by which to navigate, neither lights nor radio signal. The Captain will not venture near land save in broad daylight.

Elijah spends much time with him. They go over charts and schedules.  There will be three other ports of call besides the one now in front of us and the island after. Along with our ultimate destination they are all stops of our choice, places we feel compelled to visit.

I passed the bulk of the day in the makeshift sanctuary, deep in the Spirit. I drew from this time a confirmation of our chosen path.

Day One Hundred Thirty Nine #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

The decision has been made. Tomorrow we will all repair to the fields and there camp through the harvest. Today was given over to preparations to that end.

Last night the lights from the west end seemed even brighter than the evening before. They especially lit up all the approaches to their gateways. What do they have to fear from our small quarter? From us?

I guess we fear them too. Not knowing what their intent is toward us.

Lyle becomes more concerned with each passing day that Kip and Moglen may be lost to us. Could they indeed be swayed?

Later I sought the grace and peace that flows in my walled courtyard, sensing there may be no return.

Day One Hundred Thirty Eight #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Lights shone out of the west end last night.  Not the light from fire, candle, or oil lamp, but the bright glow powered by electricity.

It’s a clear message. Stan has delivered on his promise to the west end leaders. Or would it be more correct to say that the world government has exerted its power?

Anyway, it does not extend here. The electrical circuits for the east end have not been connected. Already this morning, Lyle has heard complaints through the leaders from their people, wondering why they have not been included.

Sore trials lay ahead. Camping outside the walls for the harvest is looking more preferable. Yet Lyle would still like to hear from Kip and Moglen first.