Free Stones: Theory (Stones #4) by Jacob Whaler Page B

know. Shinto is covering the earth. MX Global, the biggest tech company in the world, is providing financial support. They are the ones that came up with the new technology to clean up the radiation and fallout after the nuclear detonations. Rumors are that it’s made them billions and billions of IMUs. But beyond that, your guess is as good as mine.”
    “So what are you going to do?”
    “Two words.
Avoid Shinto.
”
    “Interesting conversation,” Matt says. “Mind if I nod off for a few minutes?”
    “No problem.” Tom reaches out to the truck-com and changes the motor-tone so it sounds like a day at the beach with a rhythmic surf and seagulls in the background. “I’ll wake you up when we get to the restaurant.”
    “Thanks, Tom.”
    We’re getting through
, he thinks.
To some of them.
    As they leave the construction site and head down the other side of the mountain, Tom leans back. The windshield goes transparent green, and the words
End Construction
play across it. Quickly picking up speed, the transport rolls down the hill, nothing but a broad, straight road ahead for miles.
    “By the way,” Tom says. “I never got your name. You seem to know mine, but I don’t know yours.”
    Matt looks up through sleep-weary eyes. “My name? Pretty generic. Matt Newmark. But I mostly just go by a nickname.”
    “What’s that?”
    “The Finder.”



CHAPTER 16
    M iyazawa walks up transparent stairs into the ivory white transport ship. As he lifts each heel, the step left behind by his foot dissolves away, keeping perfect timing with his gait. At the top, he turns to face the masses gathered below. He stands at the point of a wedge-shaped slice of humanity that opens up and extends for more than a kilometer in front of him. Bowing deeply in their direction, he waits for the transport doors to slide shut.
    As soon as the doors close, he slumps down into a waiting chair of thick cushions that envelopes and cradles him. An audible sigh breaks from his lips.
    “Is everything all right, Master?” A concerned look crosses an assistant’s face on the other side of the cabin.
    Miyazawa nods and reaches up to remove his black cap. “Just tired.” His eyes close, a signal that he no longer wishes to be bothered by conversation.
    It is happening more frequently. The sensation that
another
is speaking through him. This time, it was in downtown Los Angeles at the first dedication ceremony to take place in a major US city. The old building at 400 South Hope Street had been razed to the ground, making room for a new
jinja
shrine. As part of the ceremony, Miyazawa spoke to thousands of the gathered faithful. But it had not been him speaking. It was the
Other
.
    He tries to recall the words that slipped effortlessly from his own lips only minutes before. Words that he did not prepare or intend to speak. As he floats motionless in the chair, the words came back, like a vaguely recalled dream.
    It is the work of Shinto to bring men and women together, one with Nature, one with each other. It is only when we are one that we find complete joy and contentment. For in truth, we are not separate, we are not discrete individuals. The experience of separateness is an illusion, an alternate reality that hangs over us like a thin film that masks the truth. Through the experience of Shinto, that film is brushed aside, like a curtain, to reveal what we really are. This, then, is the mission of Shinto. To help us tear away the thin veneer of consciousness that binds us to unreality. When our minds are opened to ultimate reality, it is then that we understand.
    All in one, and one in all.
    He tries to wipe the words from his memory, but they are burned into his awareness, made permanent like the vertical line of
kanji
characters carved into the single large stone that marks the front of his home shrine on the outskirts of Kyoto in southern Japan. Could it be that he has spoken the words before, on another occasion? He isn’t sure.
    What do