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Windsor got in the car.

“Here are the GPS coordinates.” He handed Lucas a piece of paper.

Windsor watched as Lucas entered the coordinates. He’d known the Rev wouldn’t agree to his request. He took the GPS reading before he entered the office. Now the only risk they had with the transfer was that the Rev still needed to be in his office.

“All set. Did you want me to execute the transfer?”

“Have you changed the receiver GPS coordinates?”

“Yep.”

“Okay, do it.”

<°)))><

After the minister left, the Rev closed the door and sat back down on the couch. He was shaken. The man’s demands were strong, intimidating. Do it or else. He knew he was going to get lots of prayer requests for healing, but there was something strange about this request.

He rubbed his head and sensed something. He looked around the room. The walls seemed to be moving. He felt a sense of shutting down.

The Rev opened his eyes. He felt the presence of evil and said a quick prayer in the name of Jesus. His legs felt cold so he started rubbing them. Why were they so cold? He started taking in his environment. He was sitting on a cold vinyl floor. The immediate area was lit by soft fluorescent lights. He couldn’t see any windows. He could hear a faint humming noise—the large cylinder shape in front of him, maybe. But where was he? Truth dawned on him. He was the victim of a ‘transfer’. His body seemed to be functioning normally. He was happy with that after all the things he had seen and heard.

He got up and headed towards the cylinder with his movement setting off more fluorescent lights. There was a line of cylinders, four in all. They each stood over three metres tall and maybe a couple of metres in circumference—he wouldn’t be able to wrap his arms around one. The first cylinder had a blueish glow, the others sat in darkness. A vertical strip of glass ran down the side, about the width of a hand.

What was inside the cylinder? Did he really want to know?

He stepped closer. Through the vertical glass strip he could see some kind of liquid bubbling up. He moved right up close to the glass and peered in, shading his eyes with his hands to get a better view. There, he saw something. He quickly jumped back: it was a body floating in there, upside down.

“Lord, be with me.”

He wanted out. He walked over to the exit door. It could only be opened with a card or code number. Obviously they wanted to keep the bodies inside. He gave a nervous laugh at that thought. He walked back to the cylinder, and saw a panel on the front, displaying charts and figures. There was also an emergency number. He patted his pockets for his phone, then remembered he’d left it sitting on his desk. Well, he didn’t actually leave it there—he’d had no idea he was going out.

“Lord, what should I do?”

Just around from the monitor, he noticed a plaque on the cylinder. He moved around to read what was inscribed.

Timothy Edward Windsor

Date of cryopreservation: 17/03/2018

Cryonics Inc.

It was that man’s son, the minister’s son. And now he knew why he was here.

<°)))><

Aaron followed Churchie to the office. The door was closed. Churchie gave a soft tap. No answer, so he gave a harder knock and the door creaked open a little. Churchie gave the door a gentle push.

“Hello, are you there Rev?”

No answer. Churchie opened the door all the way. They walked in. It looked like the Rev had stepped out for a moment. His mobile phone sat on the table. Aaron picked it up. A message. ‘Lunch is on us. Be with you in an hour.’

“Looks like he didn’t get our message.”

“Aaron, my angel tells me things aren’t right. The Rev’s been a victim of a transfer.”

Aaron pondered that. “What purpose would that serve? Do we know where to?”

“No. The Rev’s angel is still here.”

Aaron wondered where the angel was standing. “The angel still being here must have something to do with the technology. It must transfer things, humans that is, at a particular frequency and angels are outside that frequency. Only a theory. Surely the Lord knows where the people go. Why doesn’t he just tell the angels?”

“I’ll ask them.” Churchie appeared to be listening to his invisible friend, then nodded.

“Aaron, they’re messengers from God. They’re not omnipresent.”

“What does that mean?”

“They can only be at one place at any particular time. But as messengers from God, they may be told things.” Churchie was nodding again. “And I’ve been told that a meeting with a man was just held, and that man is behind all this.”

“How would we find out who that was?”

“I’ll go and find out. Either the church secretary or the senior pastor should know.”

Churchie left, and Aaron looked around the room. Lots of books. He saw a photo frame on the desk, a business card beside it. Aaron picked up the card while he glanced at the picture in the photo frame: a lady and boy, maybe his wife and child. Aaron thought about how little people know of each other. There was also a picture on the business card. His mobile phone vibrated.

It was Mackenzie.

“Hello, Kenz.”

Are sens

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