Or were we going to be chastised and demoted and sent back to try to learn it right next time?
I had never been a doomsayer and I had never feared new ideas, new ways, new growth. I saw no reason to begin that now. And Donovan had really given me no reason to fear him. Quite the opposite, he had shown me every reason to trust him. God or whatever, I liked the guy. I just wished that I could get over the nagging worry that maybe we were no more than a laboratory planet, and that these guys were coming back to try some new experiments on us.
I did not want to be relocated, like the mountain goat, to a new feeding ground even though a better one, nor did I wish to be tagged and tracked and monitored for the rest of my small life on this obscure planet.
Hell, they already had me tagged.
There was a new star in the heavens directly above my house. I spotted it at first dark. And then I went back to Julie for another go at total recall, muttering to myself, "God help us all."
I did not want a repetition of the conclusion to the first trance so this time I devoted a few preliminary minutes to the proper conditioning of my subject. I worked in some posthypnotic codes that would greatly shorten the induction routines in any future sessions, then I built in some controls to strengthen my own influence while she was in trance.
"You will hear and respond only to my voice."
"Okay."
"If any other voice attempts to speak to you, any voice other than my own, you will immediately awaken. Understand? Any other voice speaking to you will immediately break the trance."
"I understand."
"You will then immediately return to trance when I tell you to. I will place my hand on your forehead and I will say, 'Go back, Julie.' You will then return to the deepest trance level and you will be responsive only to my voice."
"Okay. I understand."
"You will speak to me only in the English language. No other tongues. Understand?"
"Yes."
"Fine. Stay comfortable. When did you first meet Donovan?"
"Long ago."
"How long ago?"
Julie fidgeted a bit, snapped her eyes at me, replied: "Not sure. Long ago."
It can be a bit unnerving sometimes to work with a subject's eyes open and expressive—and of course not every subject can remain in trance with the eyes open— but I have found that mode much more productive if it can be achieved. Eyes can speak volumes with no help whatever from the voice.
There were barriers around Donovan in Julie's consciousness, perhaps very carefully constructed barriers. I did not want to push too hard against those defenses. There are better ways.
“When did you first meet Penny Laker?"
"Penelope Powers."
"What?"
"You said you wanted her other name."
"That was last time, Julie. You are carrying over from the first trance. I want to leave the first trance behind us for now. Okay?"
"Okay."
"So when did you first meet Penny or Penelope?"
"Long ago."
"When you were about eighteen? Or before that?"
"Before that."
"I want you to let go of present time and space. Drift back, back through the years to your first meeting with Penny and I—"
"Let's use Penelope. I can talk about Penelope."
See? Even in trance, the mind is fully there. Sometimes a subject will help you find a way around a memory block.
"Fine. That's good. I want to talk about Penelope. We're floating back to your first meeting. Tell me when you are there."
"Okay. I can see her."
Julie's voice changed subtly as she said that, became almost childlike. This is common in regression experiences. Sometimes that is good and sometimes it is not, as you shall see.
"What is Penelope wearing?"
A very tiny and immature voice responded, "Angel."
"She is an angel?"
She clapped her hands together and squealed delightedly, heaving upright and grasping her ankles in both hands and staring with fascinated eyes at some phantom scene projected from the mind.
"Stay with me, Julie. Stay out of the scene. How is Penelope dressed?"
That same tiny voice squealed, "Shiny! Angel!"
"How old are you, Julie?"
She held up three fingers for me to see but did not otherwise respond.
"Okay, we're coming out of there but we're bringing the scene with us. Moving forward as I speak. Four years old, five, ten, fifteen years old and back to the present: but bring the memory with you. How was Penelope dressed?"
Julie turned puzzled eyes to me. "I—Ashton? Am I awake or asleep?"
I looked at her closely and asked her, "Why did you awaken?"
"I don't know."
"Do you remember what you awakened from?"
"No."
"So okay, we're going back. On the numbers, the way we did it before. Deep sleep again by the time we reach five. One...two...three...four...five and deeply asleep, back where we were when you woke up. Why did you wake up, Julie?"
"Someone talked to me."
"Who talked to you?"
"Not you."
"I understand that. And I told you that you would awaken if someone else spoke to you. Who spoke to you?"
"Ashton?"
I put a hand to her forehead and commanded, "Goback, Julie. Back to the depths, very deep. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
"Who spoke to you?"
"Dammit, Ashton! What is going on here?"
It was that quick, from deep trance to full wakefulness each time I touched that barrier.
I sighed, lit a cigarette, told my bewildered subject, "Sorry, kid. I've no right to jerk you around like that. Let's take a break then try again."
Hell, we had to try again. And I had to figure a way to outwit the gods in the struggle for this woman's memory. Something was locked up in there, that was certain. But this was a human mind, not a computer, and I could not hack my way in there. Suddenly I realized that I'd gone about it all wrong. I was playing the game backward.
I did not need to outwit the gods.
I just needed to get in touch with them.
Chapter Twenty-four: Frames of Reality
"Are you comfortable, Julie?"
"Yes."
"Stay that way. Listen very closely, now. What I said earlier about waking up if you hear other voices, I am now canceling that. That no longer applies. Here is what I want you to do instead. Listen closely. I am your guide here. No one else may guide you but me. If other voices come to you, let them in and let them through, let them speak to me, and we will insist that they speak to me in the English language. Do you understand?*'
"I understand."
"Who is Penelope Powers?"
"She is my sister and I serve her."
“What are you called?"
"I am called Julie Marsini."
"Have you ever been called anything else?"
"Yes, I think so."
"What name have you been called, other than Julie Marsini?"
"I believe... I have been called..."
"Yes? Give me the name."
It came with a trill and a click and it sounded like "Luh-ill-ro-too."
"Thank you. You told me yesterday that you thought you had been awakened by the visitors. What did you mean by that?"
"My true self awakened."
"I see. And your true self is Luh-ill-ro-too?"
"Yes, I think so."
"But you are a native of earth."
"No."
"No? Where, then?"
"Another world. I don't know the name. I was brought here when I was very young."
"Who brought your*
"Angels brought me. And Poppa found me under a rock in Never Never Land."
"Aren't you a bit confused, Julie? Who told you that angels brought you here?"
"Poppa told me."
"I see. Wasn't this just a fantasy? The kind a father would use to explain to
his little girl where babies come from?"
"I saw the angels."
"You saw them? When?"
"Many times."
"You mean when you were a little girl."
"Yes."
"What did these angels look like?'
"Very beautiful. Shining. They came at night and woke me up and we talked."
"I see. Did any of them look like Penny?'
"I think so. I think Penny is one of them."
"Like Donovan?"
"D'Ahnov'e'n, yes."
"Let's talk about D'Ahnov'e'n."
"Okay."
"I know that he is listening to us at this moment. He is here with us. Isn't he?"
"I am here, Ashton." It was Julie's vocal cords but the precision elocution was pure Donovan.
"I will talk to Donovan now, Julie. Stay close by, and come back when I tell you to. Thank you for coming, Donovan. I hope I am not disappointing you, but I feel that I must get to the bottom of this."
"You have not disappointed us, Ashton. Why do you think we selected you? So that you would do nothing?”
"Well there's my problem, see. I don't know what it is you want me to do."
"You are doing it."
"Just the same, don't you think it'd be a good idea to let me in on the secret? Maybe I could do it better and faster, tidier, if I know what it is."
"When the time is right, be assured you will be told all. In the meantime it is better for your own peace of mind that we proceed as we are proceeding."
"Will you verify what Julie told me just before you joined us? Is she indeed Luh-ill-ro-too?"
"She was, yes."
"But not now?"
"Not now. You are wondering about her awakening."
"Yes. Can we talk about that?"
"I cannot volunteer information. But if you ask, I will try to answer."
"What is going on here, Donovan?"
"Oh, that's much too general. You'll have to get more specific."
"When I walked through your fog this morning, did I hallucinate or was I actually in another world for a while?"
"You did not hallucinate."
"Where was I?"
"Ashton, there are many worlds. Be content to know that you visited one of them. You would not understand more than that."
“I resent that all to hell, Donovan. Don't presume what I will and will not understand."
"Very well." The rest of the statement came as a series of trills and clicks.
"Not funny, brother. Translate that for me, please."
"You have no language for what has not been experienced or imagined."
"I have language for purple skies, bottomless canals, and dolphins with human faces. Just fill in the blanks for me, please."
"You can do that for yourself."
"Who are you, D'Ahnov'e'n? What is your business with the human race? Why was Penny alone and naked in the night and why did you send her husband to South America? What is this new world you guys are pushing and how will it affect human destiny? What—?”
“Ah but you see, my brother, your destiny is our destiny. All your questions resolve to that focus. Keep it there. We will come for you when it is time."
“Time for what?"
"Ashton?"
"Goddammit! Time for what, Donovan?"
"Ashton! There's no one here but you and me!"
Yeah. He'd dumped Julie out of her trance. I put her back under only to bring her out again in a proper way. Then we went out on the deck to commune with the heavens.
Many worlds, yes.
Many more worlds than the naked eye could see or the human mind could imagine.
And D'Ahnov'e'n's mobile world was still up there, shining down on us. I idly wondered if ATC and NORAD were picking up anomalous propagation blips on their radars, and which celestial mirage the astronomers were advancing to explain that world to the press.
Linked destiny, huh?
Okay. I'd buy it. I knew that we could do a whole lot worse.
I told Julie, "I talked to Donovan. He came through you while you were in trance. Do you remember Luh-iill- ro-too?"
She gave me a murky gaze and shook her head in a negative response.
I said, "You are not an alien. Not now. But I believe you were in a previous life, and your name then was Luh-ill-ro-too. That's not at all familiar to you?"
She shivered as she replied, "No, but the sound of it gives me goose bumps."
"I think," I told her, "that Luh-ill-ro-too was something like a dolphin."
"Gee, thanks." That verbal response was sarcastic, but the shiver in the eyes as it was delivered was not. And neither was mine.
The telepathic relay with Donovan was not particularly enlightening, but at least it provided some mental clues to work with. First of all it confirmed an old belief that the saucer people were telepaths and secondly that some form of mind control explained the mental trauma of some contactees.
Just put those two facts together and they are enough to shiver you, if you think about it. Forget super-sophisticated weaponry and saucer razzle-dazzle; if those people could produce mass psychic effects at long range through sheer power of the mind, what other weaponry would be required?
Any effect that can be produced through hypnosis can be produced by any direct avenue into the subconscious. So if those guys could directly access your subconscious telepathically then they could manipulate your reality in any way that suited them. You tell a hypnotized subject in deep trance that a grizzly bear just walked into the room and that subject will not only see and hear a bear, he will smell it and even be able to touch it and to feel it touching him, and he could even die from terror. That is the power of the subconscious mind.
Tell the same subject that the temperature just dropped forty degrees and he will shiver and turn blue. Or he can be sitting in an air-conditioned office yet suffering all the symptoms of heat prostration and dehydration because you told him that he is lost in the middle of the Sahara.
He will obligingly develop a rash if you tell him he has measles and he may even remove all of his clothing in public if you tell him it is a nudist camp.
These are examples of positive hallucination and autonomic confusion.
The negatives are just as dramatic. Tell your subject at the theater that he is alone in the building; he will not hear the music or see the actors or otherwise be aware of any human presence.
A subject who normally experiences an allergic reaction to cats will sit quite comfortably in a room crawling with cats if you have told him that no animals are present.
I once participated in an experiment in which a nude subject was given a posthypnotic suggestion that all the women in the world would become invisible every day between the hours of noon and five o'clock; the PH had to be removed the next day because the subject was crashing into his female employees while frantically searching for them, and it was feared that he might run someone down in his car if allowed to leave the office with the PH intact.
All of these effects can be produced by amateurs experimenting with how-to books on hypnosis. It can be very dangerous in irresponsible hands.
But consider how dangerous it could be in expert and willful hands when the intent is to disable and dominate.
I was considering the danger of hostile alien telepaths who perhaps could broadcast such illusions to an unsuspecting populace. They could even conceivably telepathically beam specific control instructions to individuals in the governments and armed forces.
If these guys actually thought of themselves as gods...
So maybe they were. A god, to qualify for the tide, should be omnipotent, omniscient, and omnipresent. Did these guys qualify?
I didn't know.
I just did not know.
And I decided that I really did not want to know.
Chapter Twenty-five: Noteworthy
Julie and I shared a quiet supper at my place, then I took her home. It was about ten o'clock when I pulled into the La
ker driveway. I wanted to talk to Penny, but Julie thought it could wait until morning. We compromised by agreeing that I could talk to her if she'd not yet gone to bed, otherwise it would wait.
Turned out to be a waste of argument because Penny was not even at home. The houseman did not know where she'd gone and there was no note, which disturbed Julie very much. There was a message from Ted Branson, though, and that disturbed Julie even more.
She told me, "He's arriving on American at twelve- thirty and wants to be picked up. That means I have to drive down to LAX tonight."
So I volunteered my services. Wanted to talk to the guy, anyway. Julie was physically and emotionally exhausted so I did not have to offer twice. She kissed me and went off to bed. I turned on all the patio lights and went out to the pool. Things were very quiet out there. I again searched for the manhole cover and again could not find it. I decided that they had either moved the operation or moved the access to it. I hung around out there for about five minutes, thinking maybe I would get another telepathic contact but I did not.
There was about an hour and a half to kill before I would have to leave for LAX to pick up Bransen. All was definitely quiet at the Laker mansion, however, and I could see no point to hanging around there, so I drove down to Wilshire and found an all-night coffee shop, ordered coffee and took it to the pay phone, tried my luck on some long shots.
Grover Dalton, the deputy sheriff who'd come to UFO grief, had been discharged from the hospital.
My friend the Associated Press stringer did not answer either of his telephones.
Ditto for my other friend at the radio station.
So I bought a Times from the newspaper box and took it to the table with my coffee. That is when I learned of the two marine incidents involving dolphins in the sky and a swimming pool in the ocean. Such a simple solution, when you've got that kind of power, that was my reaction, anyway. Then it reached my funny bone and I chuckled through a further futile search for other UFO reports. It seemed that the gods did not command much newspaper space in Los Angeles—and what the hell, it's the City of Angels.
Not funny, no, but at least I was recovering my sense of humor about the whole thing. I wondered if Deputy Dalton had recovered his. No need to wonder about Ted Bransen; the guy had never had a sense of humor that I could detect.
Time to Time: Ashton Ford, Psychic Detective (Ashton Ford Series Book 6) Page 13