“Miss Wilbon, I am Rosalie Cloutier. Before joining the TCCC, I was a major general in the CSOR, the Canadian Special Operations Regiment. Major Raitt reported to me. Now I am the vice-chair of the TCCC. Chairman Barnes and Councilperson Patterson support this process.
“Until the Jaguar undertook the mission to Zerain, and she submitted her resignation, Major Raitt was providing regular status reports.”
“I am not surprised. Lucinda is a capable soldier.”
“Yes, she was an outstanding soldier. In one of her reports, she expressed concern that both you and Corb were being … one moment, I will find the exact passage. Here … Mister Johnson’s obsession with Eastern philosophy, his mania with something called the Akashic Record, and Miss Wilbon’s unwavering faith are incongruent. I foresee a split developing between Mister Johnson and Miss Wilbon. If the split occurs, Miss Wilbon will be a rich source of intel regarding Mister Johnson’s plans.”
Michelle’s laughter caused visible frustration in several council members. Misses Cloutier remained stoic. When the ludicrous nature of the failed attempt at intimidation subsided, Michelle responded.
“Councilwoman Cloutier, was that report written years ago, when we were sequestered at Q’eqchi? No need to answer. I know when it was written. Let me ask you a question, Councilwoman Cloutier. What do you think happens aboard a spaceship traveling for months with the same eight people? That is a rhetorical question. I will tell you what happens. The crew talks to each other. About everything. After Corb, my mother, and my Nona, Lucinda is closer to me than anyone. She is the sister I never had.
“As for the core of the assertion, faith in a greater God and His grand design is not incongruent with life and life-forms that are not human. Despite the common religious dogma, numerous sentient life-forms with advanced higher technologies and humans with extraordinary abilities are real. Extraordinary abilities that appear as magic to many are real. His grand design requires faith. Faith which I retain.
“You will not drive a wedge between me and the Coterie. Especially not between Corb and me.” Continuing her response, she fixed a cold, fierce gaze on Chairman Barnes. “I will not help you control Corb or anyone in the Coterie. The Coterie, my friends, have done more, have seen more, experienced more than all of collective humanity. They have killed hundreds of sentients to protect Earth and humanity.
“Therefore, Chairman, council members, choose your next questions carefully.”
Quietly, using her nanobots, Michelle reached out to Landry.
“Landry do not respond over the audio system. Do you know where Corb is right now?”
“Yes, Michelle, Corb, and Cassandra are researching the ley lines and Nicola Tesla’s writings. Currently, they are in the National Archives in Washington, D.C.”
“Quietly reach out to Corb and let him know what is going on. Tell him everyone except me needs to get back to the Jaguar. Get Janish to help. Let me know when everyone is back on the Jaguar.”
“Working.”
“I am sorry, Chairman Barnes, I was preoccupied and missed your last question. Please repeat it.”
“Preoccupied? Miss Wilbon, are we boring you? I was saying, we are not without ability and capability.”
“Your threats are empty, and yes, you are boring me. Please get to the point so that I may return to my home.”
“Michelle, everyone is on the Jaguar. Corb is asking to speak with you.”
“Tell them where I am, tell them what is happening, and put me on the Jaguar’s speakers.”
“Done. Corb and the crew are waiting.”
“Michelle, do you want me to come and get you?”
“I am not sure. Stand by.”
“I am sorry, I was again preoccupied. Please repeat the question.”
“We were asking about the crew. Are they happy being under the control of Mister Johnson?”
Michelle and everyone on the Jaguar laughed at the absurd question.
“Corb, I need you to join me.”
Corb appeared, standing to Michelle’s right, facing the panel of TCCC members. Waving his hand in a circle, five guards fell to the floor, unconscious.
“I did not want itchy trigger fingers causing an incident. Please, continue. You were trying to intimidate Michelle.”
“Mister Johnson …”
The sound of the chairman’s voice irritated Corb, who reached up and telekinetically laid the chairman face-down on the table, unconscious.
“Madam Patterson, do you speak for the council when the chairman is not available?”
“Yes, Mister Johnson. I speak for the council. I see now … we misunderstood your role and how the TCCC can complement you in achieving your objectives.
“Miss Wilbon is free to leave. I have one question, a favor to ask.”
“Yes, Madam Patterson?”
“May we contact you when we need help in understanding what transpired on the Jaguar or when we might need your advice on interstellar relations?”
“Yes, of course. I am happy to help. You know where to find me. If there is nothing else? No?”
Michelle reached up and grabbed Corb’s elbow. They reappeared on the porch of her mother’s house in Postahoka, Texas. Immediately, the solid door was pulled inward and the screen pushed outward, Michelle’s mother assisting her Nona in walking onto the front porch. Corb stepped over, lifted Nona, and placed her in the chair next to the porch swing.
Kisses and hugs all around before Nona asked the only question that mattered. Speaking to Michelle but looking at Corb, Nona’s eyes dazzled with joy.
“Does he know?”
“Yes, I know.”
“Good, you will return at the right time. If you do not, I will find you.”
Beaming at the tiny lady making the big threat, Corb bent over and kissed her cheek. Stepping to the swing, he kissed mom on her left cheek and Michelle on her right cheek.
Standing tall, Corb looked at Nona before responding and returning to the Jaguar.
“Nona, I am leaving to keep Earth safe. I know you will keep them safe.”
Chapter Nine
ᛍᚼᛆᛕᛐᚱ ᚿᛁᚿ
“Man is not what he thinks he is,
he is what he hides.”
André Malraux
“Thank you all for joining me. Landry, please ask our Plentari friends to join us in the galley. Also, contact Davinder.”
Corb and the Jaguar crew were assembled in the galley. A few seconds passed before the speakers produced the unmistakable Nepalese voice.
“Colonel Khatter here, how may I help you, Corb?”
“Davinder, I need you to help me with something. I need a non-Western opinion. If you are available, Janish will arrive and transport you to the Jaguar.”
“Of course, Corb. I am ready now.”
Janish teleported out and back in under a minute with Colonel Khatter.
Hugs and greetings commenced before everyone sat at the galley turned conference table. Without preamble, Corb placed the nine scrolls on the galley’s table. Rearranging them so they formed a three-by-three grid, Corb stared at the patterns for a long while.
“Landry, please take an overhead view of the scrolls and project it onto the monitors.”
“Will do.”
“A flippant response from a machine?”
“Davinder, we refer to Landry as an artificial person. I suspect Landry is trying new algorithms designed to be more humanoid.”
“That is correct, Corb. I am attempting …”
“Another time, Landry.”
“Yes, Corb.”
The nine scrolls appeared on the monitors. To avoid blocking the crew’s view of the monitors, Landry moved his avatar to the end of the sideboard.
Slowly smiling and standing over the three-by-three grid of scrolls, Corb began rearranging them. When he was done, he looked up, pushed up his cowboy hat, and, with his blue eyes glowing, managed a sly grin.
Everyone stood and leaned in to get a bette
r look at the arrangement of scrolls. It was Cassandra who noticed the key.
“The art. The ivy and flowers flow from scroll to scroll. The text on each scroll is not related to the adjacent scroll. In fact, the text on each panel appears to be standalone. It is the art on the panel edges that connects the pattern.”
Lucinda and Davinder looked at each other.
“What does it mean?” Lucinda asked.
Grinning even wider, Corb began turning over the nine scrolls. When he was done, covering the Jaguar’s dining and conference table were nine plain, centuries-old, vellum sheets in a three-by-three grid pattern.
“Landry, you’re up.”
The lights in the Jaguar’s galley started to change their color, first dimming, then slowly brightening to traverse the visible light spectrum. Nothing obvious happened. When the light spectrum reached the ultraviolet bands, patterns slowly emerged on the vellum.
Landry’s avatar, standing on the sideboard, appeared to be observing the vellum. Corb slowly raised his hand, and Landry slowed the change in the light emissions.
“Back up.”
At Corb’s direction, the invisible light reversed slightly. More than two dozen dots appeared on the vellum sheets. The dots were superimposed over a light gray map of the Earth’s continents.
“Someone knew how to create the map using photosensitive ink. Keep that wavelength and resume the scan.”
Slowly, a series of lines connecting the dots appeared.
“Landry, stop and hold again when the lines are the brightest. Good, now resume scanning.”
Several minutes passed with no change on the vellum sheets.
“We have reached the end of what is reasonable for humans to see in the ultraviolet spectrum and the capability of the light emitters. Corb, there is technology on the surface that could have accomplished this experiment. Why did you do it here, on the Jaguar?”
It was Davinder who responded.
“Landry, do you know what these dots and lines represent?”
“I presume, Colonel Khatter, there is meaning beyond the fact they are a map?”
“Yes, Landry. These are commonly called ley lines by the true believers in alien influence on humanity. They indicate the locations of teleportation portals. Corb, what does a map of the ley lines tell us that we do not already know?”
Jirxena interrupted.
“We do not see these lines. Are they on the documents?”
Janish realized the Plentari eyes received a much smaller span of the visible and invisible light spectrums.
“Landry, on the monitors, overlay the images of the continents with the Ley Line map in colors that are visible to the Plentari and to the humans.”
“Of course, Janish, one moment.”
Everyone watched the monitors as the lines and dots became visible to everyone, neon-red dots representing the intersections. The Xunantunich star-portal was a neon-green dot. The connecting ley lines were bright red. When the rendering was complete, Jirxena was obviously pleased.
“Thank you, Janish.”
Janish nodded politely before she and Jirxena waited for Corb to continue.
“Davinder, this map means the ley lines are no longer speculation. It was correct speculation, but it was not provable. These scrolls predate Alfred Watkins naming the phenomenon of the ley lines in nineteen twenty-one. Predate it by at least several hundred years.
“The question we should be asking is more simplistic. First, ley lines were a power grid. They may be a power grid again. Who knows, we may be able to do something for Earth’s diminishing resources.
“Second, they were also a highway system between the portals, assuming there are portals at the major intersections. Humans, and the major religions, are not yet ready to accept the premise of at-will teleportation. Also, many of the constructs at the intersections no longer exist, are derelict, or have been destroyed. Puma Punku is a pile of debris. The only question of consequence is …”
Corb stopped speaking and thinking out loud. Everyone waited for him to continue. Davinder filled the void.
“Corb, everyone, this is not proof of anything. This topic is already widely debated with no conclusive results. You asked me here for an outsider’s opinion. Here is my opinion. If you figure out how to restore the power grid, Nikola Tesla will beam down on you a brightness that will be seen from space.”
Lucinda and Corb laughed at Davinder’s humor but waited.
“This change is insignificant, as we know our history. Turning this confirmation into free energy is something significant and should not be undertaken lightly. I urge caution. Also, for the record, you should include the TCCC in plans you may conceive.”
Lucinda caught Corb’s eyes and tilted her head toward Davinder.
“I get it, play nice with the TCCC. Back to the topic. We are missing something. I mean … so, what? Dormant star-portals. A group of dormant power grids. What is it we are missing?”
“Corb, you are rambling. Earlier, you said only one question matters. What is the only question that matters?”
“Lucinda, what does this information have to do with the Overlords?”
Dumbfounded, the group sat back and considered the obvious. How did the map of ley lines and possible star-portals lead to information about the Overlords? Landry spoke in an unusually soft tone.
“Corb, everyone, thousands of years have been spent searching for the answer to one question. The search has been for proof of an omniscient deity. What if seeking proof of an omniscient deity is the wrong question?”
Everyone’s head swiveled to the avatar, waiting. Landry continued.
“I am speculating. What if there is another question and its answer is obvious?”
Slowly bobbing his head, Corb reached up and with an index finger pushed up his hat. Sapphire eyes focused and intense, his utterance changed the focus of their conversation and their search.
“Hundreds of years of the wrong questions and searching in the wrong direction. I can tell you what the search is not seeking. It is not seeking the Holy Grail. It is not seeking proof of a deity. It is not seeking proof of our origin. It is not a search for omniscience.”
Corb paused, looking around. He settled on Cass, who was drumming her fingers on the table, and asked her a question.
“Do you have it?”
“I think so.”
“Tell them.”
“What if I am wrong?”
“You are not wrong. Cass, when are you ever wrong?
Everyone snickered and waited. Ragnar and the Plentari observed with the quiet reserve expected of true warriors.
“I do not know. It will change everything. It will change history.”
“No, Cass, in that assertion you are wrong.”
Everyone chuckled again before Corb continued.
“It changes nothing, Cass. People will retain their faith in an omniscience deity. This is part of a grand design. Nothing changes except the knowledge of how humans came to be the humans we are now.”
“True enough, but what about the division of power?”
“Cassandra, come on. You know well, adherence to a formal religion has been declining for hundreds of years. It is the hypocrisy of organized religious dogma that is declining. Faith has not diminished.”
“Okay, I will accept your premise. If I am correct, how will we react? Releasing the information will create an imbalance of global power. This knowledge could spark religious fatwas.”
Corb caught Davinder’s eye and tilted his head toward Cass, seeking intervention. Unsure, Davinder did not respond. They both waited for Cass to answer her own question. Eventually, she gave Corb a weak smirk, realizing he had already reached the conclusion.
“Nothing will change.”
“Correct.”
Lucinda barked, “Enough! You are insulting our ability to comprehend. We will comprehend if we are given more information we can absorb and comprehend. Educate me like I am five.”
Onl
y Corb and Cass chortled at Lucinda’s direct and tart order. Corb tilted his head to Cass, indicating she should respond.
“Everyone, humans have been asking the wrong question. For a couple of thousand years, researchers have been asking the wrong question. It is not whether there is an omniscient deity. Faith is faith and it will never falter. The concept of an omniscient deity and a grand design is parallel to the track we should follow in our search for answers.
“Nor should we continue our search for the Overlords. If they existed, they were not an omniscient deity. If the Overlords existed, they were an advanced, dying race that was playing God. They are likely to be inconsequential to the true question … our course should be based in a different question.”
Pausing, Cass’s nerves made her mouth dry. Sipping water, collecting her thoughts, she continued. Lucinda reached over to squeeze Cass’s shoulder in a genuine soft grip of support. Davinder caught Cass’s eye and nodded his approval. Landry’s avatar shifted ends on the sideboard. He wanted Cass to see the avatar smiling at her.
The Plentari sat in silence. With military bearing, they soaked in the information.
Finally, Cass pulled her shoulders back, looked around, stopped her eyes on Corb and, with few words, shocked everyone except Corb and Landry.
“The Overlords were a Triad.”
Part Two
It Is All Entanglement
ᛁᛏ ᛁᛋ ᛅᛚᛚ ᚾᛏᛅᚾᛚᛘᚾᛏ
Chapter Ten
“If it's the Psychic Network
why do they need a phone number?”
Robin Williams
“Honey, your mother believes. Well, she believes now. There was a time … we have all been young and naïve. What is important is you accept it as true.”
Michelle was sitting in the salon, enjoying afternoon tea with her mother and her grandmother. Her grandmother Nona stayed true to her southern heritage and called the small home’s living room the salon. A week had passed since Corb left the three ladies on the porch. Michelle’s grandmother had insisted it was time for Michelle to come out of her bedroom, stop crying, and act like an adult. Approaching ninety, Nona refused to tell anyone her true age. Slight, frail, and no longer the spry pinwheel of activity, Nona’s mind and tongue were sharp and agile.
BairnGefa- The Akashic Expedition Page 7