by Lee Baldwin
What do we call it when the silence once comforting between you is now held-breath edgy waiting, when her eyes dart toward your face then clouded quick away, when you strain ahead through bug-streaked glass where stands you alone not you together, when your pain bleeds hot anger toward this dear one so beloved now ruefully despised, when your only passion is to cut her hurt her, when this loss hangs leaden sickness in your gut and wonder how not having even that will feel if you ever can, what do you call it when your once so giving heart is consumed keeping truth from once-shared friends, smiling it is fine and faking faking, and being sure she takes the goddamn photos hoping they are hot knives through all her years ahead, this my dears we call humility, the clarifying moment we need pull our silent woman passion close around give peace the starving child still within, we call it time to kindly love our mortal foolish hungry selves, a time to let it be, let her go knowing you were not her destiny, let her seek own meant-for love, that this one yesterday your only peace now onward bound for other hearts to treasure, grieve not for her but for own blindness, fall to knees or bed face down beg God for person you must be accept accept accept that it must kill you till you grow around as oyster pearl, that loneliness of your own creation this hot forge that binds your limitless peaceful loving soul to God, we call it being human and standing up through all of it we join the race of ones who truly live not those who merely are, so then my dear lost heart we simply call this time becoming you.
Lips parted in disbelief, Lillian sits on the edge of the bed. Eyes distant, heart burdened with regret. Asks herself why through all her existence she chose this time to see the world in the lens of a human heart. Sees her own meddling at the core of things. Lylit had voiced to Tharcia that admission, but superficially. Lylit had badly used the very one who’d kept her safe. Harsh betrayal the very core of Tharcia’s pain, and she, Lylit, a thoughtless abuser. Lylit wants to be with Lian, must be, but the consequences now rushing in on Tharcia are of her careless design. Sees the terrible way this could all play out. Doesn’t notice Clay at the bedroom door, quiet, waiting.
“You’re having tears,” he says to her. Lillian nods, sweet mouth turned down. She recognizes now the source of the feelings she has for him, sudden attraction at the pub, their transcendent night together. Human emotion, so different from what she’s known through thousands of millennia, feelings absorbed from her twin’s chimeral soul while she’d slept in silence during all the days and ways Tharcia had grown and matured to the young woman she is today. Lylit was there, learning what it means to be human. And in return for that, she has fatally entrapped Tharcia within an ancient spell, imprisoned her with forces bent on her destruction.
Lillian, Lylit, in ways that cannot be explained, sees now who Tharcia is, the woman, the force, the destiny. Sees Tharcia’s true connection with Clay, something stronger than either realizes or would admit. Looking at Clay’s kind face in the doorway, Lylit now understands that Lillian Jones must push him hard away.
Language Barrier
Jackson’s many requests for a linguist have failed to produce anyone worthy of the title. There is no disagreement as to the importance of his request, it’s simply that the organization of society at large and within the military is unraveling like a cheap sweater. Surface travel is more difficult with every passing hour. They are sending someone, an intern working on her Masters at Purdue. It does not bring Jackson any joy.
When Barbara Davis enters the security trailer, Jackson quickly learns that her pedigree includes a role as keynote speaker at a conference entitled From Science to the Occult, her address, Science, Witchcraft and Magical Evidence. Jackson in his frustration was prepared to toss her out of the crowded trailer. Davis quietly informed him that she would observe for an hour, to learn if the courtyard events can be related to the occult.
“You’re dealing with an unknown language, Mr. Jackson,” she says reasonably. “There is a core of ancient languages which encompass appearances and spells of divination. Let me observe. If I can’t suggest anything, I’ll leave.”
In disgust, Jackson waves her to stand out of the way and turns back to his team. They are tired, some only semi-responsive. The endless replay of the same events from dozens of camera angles is wearing on everyone. Jackson is pursuing his hunch that somewhere in all these video frames is a clue that leads to the truth.
“What are they doing?”
“Sitting on a bench talking?”
“What are they saying?”
“Sir, they are speaking a completely unknown language.”
“It can’t be unknown! Our system has all the spoken languages.”
“This one is. It’s an isolate. There are no spoken patterns today that resemble it.”
“Bloody hell. There were three voices after the monster turned into a man, distinct ones.”
“On the video it looks like the girl was lip-synching someone else. She looked unconscious.”
“Who?”
“We only see her and the guy.”
“Chief, FBI’s NGI have a hit on the girl. California. Closing in on her now.”
“Excellent. We’re getting somewhere. Maybe her parents speak some English.”
Her Prophet
“Can I go home now?” Tharcia is stretched out on a bench with her head on Lian’s lap. Bone weary, she needs rest. A shower would be outstanding. A hot sudsy soak in the tub, even better.
“You can take a break if you need to but you will have to come back. I won’t wait forever.”
“So I am supposed to ask for something I want?”
“Yes.”
“What if I don’t want anything? What good does that do me?”
“You’ll think of something. Something to enjoy for the rest of your life.”
“Then when I die, what?”
“Like I said, I take you to my special classroom.”
“And do what?”
“Whatever occurs to me. I might forget you entirely. I might spend all my time with you. Most people find my classroom educational.”
“Hold up. You said my mom joined with this One Spirit.”
“Yes. What of it?”
“Why wouldn’t I do the same?”
“Oh, that gets postponed. Those are the rules. When someone makes a bargain with me, they don’t exactly die at the end of their life. I might give them a nice makeover so they are young and cute, and then I begin my teachings.”
“So you are offering me an eternity of fooling around with you?”
“Oh, if you want to look at it that way. I like to watch.”
“You are a peeper?”
“Funny. You don’t yet realize I am everywhere at once. I watch. It is my work.”
“What would Lylit think about that?”
“She would watch you learn too.”
“Oh this is just fucking marvelous. An eternity of dick sex with you and your friends. I am into girls, FYI.”
“Don’t be too confident in that, sex is too foremost on your mind. Please remember that time is precious. My being here is causing a disturbance.”
“Disturbance?”
“You haven’t been watching the news.”
“Harsh, dude! You whipped me away from all my toys.”
“My presence here attracts energy from other possibilities. Leakage between the membranes. People are sensing possibilities that could one day happen, or which are now realities in other universes. They speak of it as mass delusion, but some are getting wise. Human minds are powerful but untrained. Instinctive urges are pushing out. There is murder and mayhem. It worsens as we delay.”
“There was a suicide near my house. Some kid hung himself at home. Ugly.”
“People do what they do.”
Tharcia is quiet, puzzling over something. “Lian, what happens to people when they die? Where do they go? Where did my mom go?”
“She went where all consciousness resides. One Spirit, the universal. If you were Hindu, it would be called Brahma, t
he creative aspect of universal consciousness.”
“Mm. But what’s it feel like? To go there.”
“Ah. Disorienting, at first. The spirit is without the familiar structure of the body. It takes some time. There is a series of stages, it might feel like weeks. The spirit needs guides.”
“Guides.”
“Someone familiar. A loved one. It might be Buddha, or Mohammed. It might be Jesus or The Bab. It is chosen by the wishes and beliefs of the spirit in transition.”
“But wait. I had this dream about whales, they were joining with a recorded history deep in the sea. I saw it. For a moment Lian, I knew everything that ever has happened and ever will, beautiful and perfect.” She turns her lovely face to him, a bright tear sparkles. “I wanted that Lian. I wanted it so bad.”
In that instant Lian sees not an ignorant mortal who has by accident brought him his heart’s desire, but his own infinitely wise and conscious Lylit, for whom he would accomplish anything she would ask in the entire universe. He cautions himself that this one could be dangerous.
“Well, there you have it. I will give you a life filled with all the knowledge in the universe. I’ll sweeten the deal by making it a nice long one. Just say yes and it will be yours in an instant. Then we can both get out of here.”
Tharcia wipes her cheek. “Getting a privileged life for one person seems stupid, after all the trouble you and Lylit caused already.”
“Lylit and me? You set this in motion.”
“Get a load of yourself. Lylit totally over-amped what I was trying for. I hid her my whole life till now. From her enemies. Why does she have enemies, Lian?”
“Let’s come back to that one.”
“Count on it. But the whales. Look, if I have to make a bargain, something good must come from it. Life on Earth is not for only humans, is it? The animals must benefit. I feel like the whales were asking me for something. Life can’t be only about people.”
“Your whale dream was about something that’s prepared to happen, is happening now. That is as close to being real as can be. Whales are highly spiritual beings, some of them cross time. Most can perceive information from the Book of Creation.”
“Book of Creation?”
“It’s a record of everything that has happened and will happen in this universe.” Watching her face Lian knows he is in trouble. Very unusual for a mortal to directly see the Akasha. Why did the whales choose her?
Tharcia’s mind goes into full lockup. A breath of the whale knowledge ripples her mind, knowledge experienced in dream. It was real.
“Well then, if that knowledge exists in Spirit, how can people get to see it?” I know I did, if only for a second.
“It’s a big lesson.”
Tharcia sits up, looks at him eyes flashing. Her shirt sticks to her. She needs to bathe and change. “It’s possible, you dumb ass. You are withholding. What if someone like you got their attention?”
“Their attention is what I have now. What do you propose?”
“You told me about the historical prophets. Abraham, Mohammed, Krishna, Buddha, Christ. The Bab. Why are those guys so cool? Why do they get to know?”
“You left out Moses, Baha’u’llah and Zoroaster. There are more. Because they have access to knowledge most people don’t.”
“How come?”
“They are different because of personal development. Accidents of birth. Their own curiosity, particular interests.”
“But why are they the only ones who can perceive Spirit? Why can’t others do that? And why are they all guys?”
“There are women prophets.”
“Why don’t we hear of them? Is that written somewhere?”
“No, it is not written. Humans are still evolving. Many have the capability now, some can and do. Others can and do not. There are humans with deep insights, whom no one ever hears of.”
“What if everyone could have direct experience of Spirit?”
“The world would become more peaceful. It would also cut into my margin.”
“Ho ho. You mean you’d be out of work, don’t you?”
“You mistake what my work is.”
“Really. How?”
“I am a teacher.”
“That is so not true!”
“I have taught you one thing already.”
“Bet me,” Tharcia scoffs. “Anyway, what if we took away all the priests and prophets, and let everyone talk to God directly? Don’t you think that would work?”
“It would work but people aren’t ready.”
“Bullshit Lian. You know it is. People hunger for that knowledge. Putting it out of reach tortures people, that’s a kind of hell already. Makes religion something to organize behavior. Like government.”
“Prophets’ souls are at a very high stage of development.”
“Sure, but they had to start somewhere. All people have divine souls, because we are not separate. We are one. You said so. Wait. I’ve got something.”
“Such as?”
“Here’s one thing I want. Make people responsible for their actions here and now, not later on some judgment day.”
“They would have to work on their egos.”
“Well, you should know about the ego. Unless you are totally hyping about inventing it. You’re a teacher? Get it in gear.”
Take Your Medicine
Take Your Medicine is the world’s most widely-viewed, tweeted and time-shifted Internet TV program. The host is an artificial intelligence neural net named Carson Johnny, programmed to simulate the late Johnny Carson, host of the NBC Television Tonight Show from the 1960s to the early 1990s. Carson’s guests this evening are the humorist Dick Chasm and Mindy Poho, spoiled brat bad girl, famous for being famous, a once-talented singer who gave up her career to diddle her ego and throw childish public tants. Tonight she is partially baked and too stupefied to do much more than cross and uncross her legs in her too-tight dress. She secretly bides her time for the wardrobe meltdown that will restart her career.
Chasm is dressed in army camo fatigues with an alluring pink tutu skirt at the waist. After some initial banter between Chasm and Carson, they bring on a remote guest who speaks with an electronically disguised voice.
Carson opens the segment with a solemn introduction. Tonight the AI gear that makes him go is rigged out in the guise of a carnival fortune teller, complete with beard, turban, and credit card slot. Carson Johnny’s avatar.
“As you all know, especially folks in the Northeast, there has been unusual activity in the area near Arlington, Virginia, in particular at the United States Pentagon. The media and the government have told us nothing concrete that explains the evacuation, the sealing off of the Pentagon grounds, or the fact that remotely piloted Reaper drones are on constant patrol above the area.
“Why the Reapers? Did Pakistan dry up as a source of good drone targets? Did crop circles appear in Georgetown? Tonight we have a special remote guest who has shared with us some photos that do much to explain the events at the Pentagon. Our guest on the phone goes by the name Casino, to protect her or his identity. Hello Casino, will you join us?”
“Hey Carson. Hey Chasm, love your ‘fit dude.”
“Hey, TG.”
“Oh,” laughs Casino, “it’s only this fricking voice disguise.”
Casino, known in her day job as a Pentagon Security IT tech, is in a secure remote location staring at tall stacks of hundred-dollar bills and sipping a cold apple-tini. Friends sit across the room, cautioned to keep their voices down. Casino has profited from her visit to the Pentagon Security Trailer. In exchange for considerable amounts of hard cash, she has delivered genuine security cam vids and photos of Tharcia in her Goddess Culture T-shirt with Lian. First on the screen appears Tharcia with Lian as the elegant Greek statue.
“What a beautiful man,” Poho says, sitting forward in her teensy dress.
“We looked through these before coming on,” Carson says, “and let me tell you what you’re about to see
for yourselves, they are startling. Alright, now look at this.” The image changes to a photo of a tall scaly lizard with wings. A surprised Ooooh from the audience.
“What do you think, folks? You can see in our side by side view, the man and the monster, the backgrounds are the same. We are guessing this is the interior of the Pentagon, is that right, Casino? Notice how small she is next to this thing.”
The altered telephone voice replies, “Yes. And you need a close up on the girl in the scene. Real shocker, an ordinary person locked up with this monster.”
From the instant the pic of Lian as a winged lizard hits the computer screens of 80 million online viewers, links to the show are wildly tweeted, emailed and re-tweeted. Live viewers add in by the hundreds of thousands every few seconds. Within five minutes, the viewership exceeds the combined population of China, India, and the Middle East. And it keeps climbing. These images are the clearest truth the public has seen since the government closed the news lid on the Pentagon evacuation.
The audience gives another soft Ooooh as a view of Tharcia appears, looking sleek in the Goddess Culture T-shirt and her flowing hair of winter white. Always with a need to keep things moving briskly, the AI programming in the head of Carson Johnny rushes the convo forward. The images stay on the screen as the guests talk over.
“What does Mindy Poho do for you, Chasm, in that dress? Or maybe it’s a dinner napkin.”
Mindy squirms self-admiringly in her chair, certain of praise.
“Well Carson, it’s another kick in the nutsack for Mr. Average Joe,” Chasm begins, looking the onetime actress up and down. “Joe will never live up to what she looks like, to the expectations of someone who looks like that. So mostly he’ll just jerk off and drink more brewskis. I think of her as a concept, a free-floating beer commercial.”
“I don’t think that’s…” Poho gets in.
“Funny, Chasm, and not a bad point. How about her latest movie, that horror flick?”
“Screw the movies. The news these days is more horrifying. Annetka and the Blender Murders, the Malibu Three-Way, the dozen similar ones in recent days. That is, if you like snuff. Your guest’s photos though. If this is what’s going on at the Pentagon, we are in deep guano.”