The Cosmic Logos

by Traci Harding

  ‘Welcome to my museum,’ Kuthumi bade Tory and Maelgwn, and placing his hand on the door it vanished.

  They entered a structure that was entirely lit by a smooth crystal-like substance of which the walls, floors, arched halls and domed ceilings were composed.

  Inside was a vast system of subterranean halls, chambers and antechambers that were filled with artefacts, occult treasures and scriptures. Some of the halls were entirely covered in ancient hieroglyphs, and Tory recognised the language as ancient Sanskrit. The glowing blue text was offset against the white illuminated surface.

  In the beginning, the causeless cause spat forth seven great waves of energy, which sped out in all directions into fathomless pure Space. When the points of these Rays condensed, hardened and materialised, atoms were formed. An atom is a dance of Rays in which is locked the spark of living fire. And with this spark, implanted in every atom, is the will to be a Sun.

  ‘The secrets of the cosmos have been committed to these walls, as a reference for those human souls ready to advance upon their spiritual service,’ Kuthumi advised Tory.

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ she uttered, tracing a finger over the glowing text and feeling nothing but the smooth crystal surface. The text was not in any way written, printed or embossed; it was like a glowing blue gas that could not be felt or disturbed. ‘It’s almost as if the characters are formed from etheric substance.’

  ‘The Otherworld has many advantages,’ Kuthumi explained how the illusion was possible.

  ‘The Otherworld?’ Tory queried, noting that she was floating instead of standing. She looked closely at her hands and found she could actually see the frenzied motion of the atoms that composed her subtle body. ‘This is an astral projection experience?’ When the Count nodded, Tory was amazed at how oblivious she’d been to the fact. ‘What was in that tea?’

  Kuthumi laughed, delighted by her surprise. ‘You left your physical forms under my brother’s watchful eye and protection. The fact that you didn’t notice your physical form missing is a very positive sign in this instance,’ he assured Tory and Maelgwn. ‘We thought we’d see how you liked functioning without your dense body, for if you are to fulfil your role in the forthcoming event, it will be beneficial for you to leave your Chosen forms behind.’

  ‘Shame … I’ve grown rather attached to it.’ Tory attempted humour. She no longer feared death and yet she felt a twinge of remorse at the idea of letting life go.

  ‘We all give a heavy sigh at the thought of such sacrifice, but once the commitment is made you shall discover that the sacrifice is, in fact, the experience that you have just lived through,’ the master encouraged. ‘However, should you grow tired of the comparatively blissful life and liberation of the subjective world, there will always be a superior race developing a few thousand years from now into which you can incarnate and perform an objective role once more.’

  ‘Any chance of you telling us what our role in the subjective world might be?’ Maelgwn’s curiosity was driving him insane.

  ‘That is exactly what this excursion is all about. Please.’ Kuthumi indicated that they should follow him further into the subterranean maze.

  ‘You know what this reminds me of?’ Tory posed to her husband as they trailed the master.

  ‘Taliesin’s Otherworldly labyrinth,’ Maelgwn replied, having made the same observation himself.

  ‘Taliesin was a Master of Time and so his collection was comprised of historical antiquities and technology,’ Kuthumi granted. ‘My interests tend more towards esoteric doctrine.’ The hallway opened into a huge library with a high domed roof.

  ‘Oh, my Goddess,’ Maelgwn uttered upon sighting the collection, as he’d always been a keen scholar himself.

  ‘This is most impressive.’ Tory echoed her husband’s appreciation. ‘It’s even bigger than Taliesin’s library.’

  ‘I have collected esoteric literature from every author in every dimension of this universe’s development.’ Kuthumi tried not to make this sound like a boast, though he was obviously proud of his efforts.

  ‘Are Noah Purcell’s Chronicles of the Chosen Ones here?’ Tory couldn’t help but test the master’s boast.

  ‘Both the fiction and non-fiction versions,’ Kuthumi teased with a smile, immediately teleporting them to the section of the library where the texts were stored without even touching those he teleported.

  ‘How can you have the fiction version of our history?’ Tory frowned, as the master retrieved from a shelf a thick paperback novel and placed it in her hands. ‘The Ancient Future.’ She read the title out loud. ‘What’s this?’ She flipped it over and slowly turned pale as she read the blurb on the back cover, dumbstruck that it referred to her by name. She looked to Kuthumi for an explanation.

  ‘Take your life story and relate it to someone in a dimension apart from your own and it becomes just a “thrilling Celtic fantasy that wreaks havoc with history”.’ The lord quoted the catchphrase on the front cover of the book. ‘We do it all the time,’ Kuthumi assured. ‘King Arthur has been a muse to just about every historian cum fantasy writer that ever there was, and a few spiritualists as well.’

  ‘But Arthur never existed?’ Maelgwn argued.

  ‘Not in the dimensions you have frequented, but in many other alternative realities he did become the legend that has inspired a million tales,’ Kuthumi clarified. ‘In the dimension that gave host to the late twentieth century existence from which Tory originally disappeared, none of what you have achieved in your current reality has taken place. A completely different inter-dimensional reality and evolution is unfolding there, and Tory Alexander no longer exists … except in fiction.’

  Tory quickly opened the front cover of the novel in her hand, to discover the date and place of publication. ‘First published in Australia in 1996. That’s three years after I vanished.’

  ‘The author to whom you are to be a muse is a little hung up on the filmmaking business at present. It will take her higher self a few years to swing her round to writing a book.’

  Tory read about the author in the front of the book.

  Traci Harding was born and raised in Sydney. Her ultimate dream of making a high budget Australian science-fantasy film took her to England and Scotland where she visited the sacred sites and saw the fairy lights. This journey was her inspiration for The Ancient Future.

  ‘Interesting,’ said Tory at last. ‘Does she ever get to make the feature film?’

  ‘What do you think?’ Kuthumi began handing Tory all manner of recorded software, disks, videos, thought recorders, some tiny plug thing and a pyramid crystal with a small chip inside it. ‘As the ages go by the written legend will be adapted to many different formats and mediums.’

  Maelgwn gave a chuckle, and Kuthumi and Tory turned to find him already absorbed in the novel. When the Dragon felt their eyes upon him he looked up to explain his distraction. ‘She’s really got your character pegged,’ he taunted his wife playfully, before addressing Kuthumi. ‘Can I borrow this?’

  ‘By all means.’ The master manifested another five books of the same thickness and piled them on Maelgwn. ‘Here, have the whole series. You’ll find this instance on page 199 of the last book.’

  ‘Really?’ Tory put all her software back on the shelf to sort through the books her husband held. When she found the third book of the second trilogy, Tory turned to the nominated page. ‘It’s true.’ She read her response from the text.

  ‘Of course it’s true.’ Kuthumi was amused, as Tory pointed to the dialogue of the book.

  ‘You say that and then I say this.’ She slammed the book shut. ‘Best not get too caught up in that scenario … I wouldn’t want the book to get boring.’

  ‘Ugh!’ Maelgwn cringed after reading the blurb on the back of the second book of the first trilogy. ‘This one is all about your quest to Atlantis, after I got yellow plague and screwed up my life in Gwynedd … I think I’ll skip that one.’

  ‘Awesome covers,’
Tory commented as she looked over the book her husband had rejected. ‘So, who is this Traci Harding anyway?’

  ‘She is an incarnation of yourself who is not so prone to adventure as you, but she does have a grand imagination and would not discount the fantastic details and events of your story.’

  ‘So, how I am going to aid the event ahead by inspiring an author in a different reality?’ Tory didn’t understand the supposition.

  ‘You have a karmic debt to repay to the inter-dimensional reality that you abandoned,’ Kuthumi replied. ‘Had you remained in your rightful dimension, you still would have become an agent of the Logos and had vast leaps in spiritual understanding, and the humans developing in that reality would have profited from your wisdom.’ As Tory seemed sceptical about being referred to as wise, Kuthumi added, ‘Wisdom is knowledge, gained by experience and implemented by love.’

  Tory was touched by the definition. ‘I can see what you’re saying,’ she warranted, ‘but surely people will just write off the outlandish spiritual principles as fantasy.’

  ‘Some will,’ Kuthumi granted. ‘But others will see glimmers of truth and inspiration in your tales. And then there will be those who dare to put your beliefs into practice. When they discover that they can create their own reality, perform miracles, bring out the best in people and heal their bodies through the power of the mind, then the reality that once spawned you will have benefited from your experience and knowledge.’

  Tory smiled in a semi-vexed fashion. ‘So, Jesus had to die on the Cross to pass his initiation, but all I have to do is pour my heart and soul out to some disillusioned film writer to achieve the same feat?’

  ‘Hopefully, your fiction version of cosmic law won’t cause as much trouble as many of the non-fiction texts have, like the Bible for example.’ Kuthumi explained the logic of it. ‘People are not so prone to change the details of fiction and they are not compelled to believe it and so will draw only as much truth from your story as they are prepared to believe at the time. The Master Djwhal Khul has offered to act as an advisor to you during your time as a muse. DK and the Count have a vested interest in the fusion of science and religious belief, and around the turn of the century in the reality you left behind this cause is to be furthered. Due to the esoteric nature of your adventures, I, the unifier of Eastern and Western thought, have also taken a personal interest in this cause. Your aid and role will be a very subtle one, but your tale will open the minds of many and thus further the cause of light in a dimension that is even more needy than this one. As every reality in every dimension leads to the house of the great creator, whether you aid evolution here or there is neither here nor there in the great scheme of things. The Count, as the Lord of Karma and the Lord of Time, feels this is a fair exchange for granting Taliesin’s request to misplace you in time and create a breakaway dimension that has spiritually evolved more rapidly than most. The reality you created is to the great credit of you both, but the fact remains that Tory is indebted to the dimension that spawned her.’

  ‘I am happy to repay that debt.’ Tory reassured him that no further explanation was necessary.

  ‘So what is to be my role?’ Maelgwn tucked all the books under his arm.

  ‘You are to be the inspiration of your sons during the event ahead.’ The master clued Maelgwn in. ‘The Count will serve as your advisor.’

  Any other time, the news that they were to be separated would have saddened Maelgwn and Tory, thus they were both shocked to discover that they were not at all disturbed at the proposition. This confused the couple; were they falling out of love?

  ‘Not at all.’ Kuthumi addressed their unspoken concern. ‘You have just transcended to a level of awareness whereby you have mastered your relationship with each other and are no longer glamoured by the fear of losing the love of your soul-mate. Mastering relationships and glamour are the first two esoteric initiations. The third initiation involving the mastery of direction, integration and science, you both passed with flying colours during the downfall of the Nefilim and the birth of the Immortal human races of the Delphinus, Falcon and Leonine peoples. Now, you approach the fourth initiation; the test which you will execute via a mental perspective only … this is why you suddenly feel so emotionally detached. Once you have completed your service of selfless sacrifice, you shall be ready for the Great Renunciation and you shall again be joined as one. This glorious whole soul shall transcend the ring-pass-not of the lower triad of planes to which your soul has been bound for an eternity. At the causal level of creation you shall be reunited with your kindred among the host of Dhyan Chohans. They will welcome you home with open arms and bring you up to date on the progress of the great plan. The part you decide to play in evolution from then on will be for you to decide.’

  Their bodies awash with excitement and awe, Tory and Maelgwn could do naught but smile for the longest time.

  ‘So … where do we start?’ Maelgwn voiced his eagerness to roll with the program.

  ‘Right here.’ Kuthumi held his arms wide to imply his whole museum and teleported them back to the hallway of text that Tory had begun reading. ‘You two have a bit of doctrine to absorb.’

  Avery mentally announced his arrival to Lahmu. His appearance interrupted the meeting taking place in the Governor’s private office — no matter what Lahmu was discussing the news Avery bore was more urgent.

  ‘Avery! Praise the Logos!’ Brian was in the lad’s face before he’d fully manifested. ‘We have learned that Viper plans to raise Mahaud.’ The Governor motioned to Noah as his source.

  ‘He has already raised the crone,’ Avery corrected, much to the dismay of the Governor, En Noah, Rhun and Candace, who were also present. ‘That’s what I came to inform you.’

  ‘And the sadist has my daughter!’ Brian lashed out, although he diverted the outburst away from Avery.

  ‘I have been made aware of the best course to pursue for Fallon’s recovery.’ Avery gave Brian some good news. ‘I shall have her back in our fold before any harm befalls her … I swear it.’

  Brian’s attention shot back to the lad and the frustration in his eyes hadn’t ebbed any. ‘Don’t make me promises you can’t keep,’ Brian warned, ‘not on this issue.’

  ‘Lirathea will confirm that Viper plans to attack the Orme Charichalum stores on Numan very soon, and Fallon will be with him,’ Avery vouched in his own defence.

  ‘And what if my child is bewitched by then, or worse!’ Brian struggled to keep the tears from escaping his eyes.

  ‘Let me take the chariot and get her now,’ Candace pleaded.

  ‘Fallon is with Viper of her own free will.’ Avery reminded her parents of the cold hard facts. ‘I fear that I am the only one who stands a chance of changing her mind.’

  ‘He’s right.’ Rhun stood to support his little brother’s view. ‘In a sense, Fallon has already been bewitched and unless that spell is broken, you don’t stand a chance of keeping her away from Viper.’

  ‘Or of keeping Viper away from her,’ Brian fretted, for the Nefilim-Falcon demi-god knew what Fallon looked like and so could find her with a thought.

  ‘I can hide her in the Otherworld,’ Avery offered. ‘A soul of Viper’s calibre could never raise the vibratory rate of his atomic form high enough to seek her there.’

  Some of the worry fell from the faces of the distraught parents.

  ‘As I know what Viper looks like,’ Noah offered what help he could, ‘I can disguise myself as one of his kindred, teleport myself to him and see that no harm befalls Fallon before she reaches Numan. But, I shall have to take proper steps to ensure I am safe from the witch first. In the sixth century Selwyn made amulets to protect his people from the crone’s influence. I shall do some regression and discover what was involved.’

  ‘I shall go with Avery to Numan, and oversee the operation,’ Rhun volunteered.

  ‘But Sparrowhawk is already there.’ Avery felt he could handle this operation alone. He couldn’t stand to think
of the sibling rivalry that would occur working with just one of his brothers, let alone the kind of brotherly friction that would arise from working with two of them.

  ‘Well,’ Rhun cocked an eye, pretending not to know what Avery’s problem was, ‘as Zabeel is headed to Numan while we speak, it looks as though we’ll have all four sons of the Dragon on this mission.’ He rubbed his hands together vigorously, greatly looking forward to seeing what kind of results their combined force would produce. ‘And fear not Governor, Governess,’ Rhun’s demeanour became serious to address them, ‘we will bring your daughter back, unharmed.’

  Numan was a dark, cold dump of a planet. The landscape was black, the sky beyond the shield was the black expanses of space, and since Numan was the outermost planet of the Anu system, daytime here was as black as night. All the mining operations were underground. The Orme Charichalum production facilities were above ground in large shielded bases with artificially controlled environments.

  Bast and Sparrowhawk were occupying the main office of the top-security vault complex. This was where the dark Orme was held for safekeeping until it was shipped off to the centre of the star system to power the dense black shield that harnessed the radiation of the dead sun.

  Bast was bored out of her mind and Sparrowhawk wasn’t helping the state of affairs any; he’d been pining over Lirathea becoming a monk ever since they’d left Kila. As Bast had informed him plainly that she was going to murder him if he brought the subject up again, Sparrowhawk had gone all quiet and broody.

  ‘I don’t know what you’re worried about,’ Bast scoffed, as she gazed out over the colourless base beyond the double shielded windows of the office. ‘My sister has just run off with our enemy!’

  ‘Even she’s got a better chance at happiness and contentment than I have,’ Sparrowhawk grumbled as he checked his weapons to make sure they were all in good working order.

  ‘Oh …’ Bast growled with agitation. ‘Do move on, Sparrow. If you could just get over yourself, you might be of some use to somebody.’