can still be accused of being a witch and stoned to death in some parts of the world?”
This remark caused Elsa to involuntarily flinch. “Have you been hunted?” I asked her.
Elsa nodded. “Small villages are breeding grounds for that kind of hysteria.”
Gabriel continued. “Even here in your country, religious zealots would like to dictate who you can marry.”
I nodded. “Don’t forget banning abortions for women,” I added.
Gabriel leaned forward to continue. “Can you imagine how dangerous it would be if the religious extremists were able to take the reins of your government?
“Can you imagine if the president of the United States were a religious fanatic, or perhaps, the men and women in your Congress were?”
“Some days it seems as if that is already happening.”
Gabriel glanced at Elsa and I could feel their anticipation as they finally came to the point.
“It could be much worse. Many of us have lived through the days of witch-hunts and Inquisitions. We know the damage one ambitious official can cause when he sows superstition and distrust among the disenfranchised.”
“I can’t imagine the United States ever being that provincial,” I said, feeling a little overwhelmed by their comments. “After all, we were founded to avoid the rule of one man or woman.”
Gabriel reached at his side for a small canvas satchel. He unzipped the khaki colored bag and pulled out a few copies of newspaper articles.
“I assembled these in preparation for our meeting,” Gabriel said, as he slid the papers toward me.
“Evangelical Voters Courted in Presidential Bid,” read one headline.
Another said, “Civics Education Called A National Crisis.”
“Your country is intent on electing people who believe in a “God-endowed” policy to control the courts, education,” Elsa said. “If they should achieve a majority, it could be disastrous.”
“And the remaining population cannot name members of the Supreme Court or the first seven presidents,” Gabriel added. “You see, we are forever at a tipping point, where intervention is necessary.”
“Intervention?” I asked, once again feeling alarmed. I had the feeling I was being recruited into some kind of battle. “What do you mean?”
Finally I was able to connect the nervousness I’d been feeling all evening with its owners. Both of them shared the anxiety equally, but it was Gabriel who spoke first.
“I’m the leader of an organization designed to help with these matters globally. This intervention I spoke of, the Council, is an organization devoted to maintaining stable governments across the globe,” Gabriel said. He paused to order a second bottle of wine.
“Do you know the story of The Watchers from the Bible, from the Old Testament? It is the story of a group of angels sent by God to live on the earth and help humans.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m not all that familiar with the Bible.”
“I see. Well, we are like them. The world is full of magical beings—Others—as we refer to them. We, they, do not want to be visible to the outside world, hunted for religious reasons or perhaps exploited for financial gain or political power. For decades we have lived among humans and co-existed. The equation is simple: The more educated and stable the population, the more insulated Others are from harm and persecution.”
“How does it work?” I asked. “Do you have an army, is there fighting?”
Gabriel waved his hands emphatically to dismiss the comments. “Olivia, I am not asking you to fight in a war, or join an army. Here in the U.S. and in Europe, we work the same way as others do: We use the political process. We work to ensure stable, moderate people are elected to every level of government.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to do what you do now and run a campaign,” Gabriel said, smiling. “But also to use your new-found skills to help increase the odds of success.”
“Increase the odds?”
“Yes, of course,” he said. “It’s much easier to win an election when you know what voters are thinking ahead of time. You can help a candidate correct his messages in a matter of seconds. You can sit in a room with a journalist and sense their intentions before they even begin an interview. It all makes for much better odds.”
“Why should I do this for you? I can go back to running my company.”
Gabriel nodded. “True, but you never can tell your clients or colleagues about your talents. Who will believe that you can see someone’s aura, or read his or her emotions? If your competitors come to believe that, they will