On the outside, her mission was quite ordinary. The creatures sleeping in her backpack, just like other individuals she had delivered in the past, were wrapped in their own Nakshatric Blankets. These Blankets served as the interface between the Personality and the physical body that the Personality would inhabit. This type of binding was almost identical to how El Elyon’s Thought Adjusters attached at the level of the synapse. The primary difference was Nakshatric Blankets and Thought Adjusters existed within orthogonal dimensions.
There were tremendous levels of programming available to Nakshatric Blankets depending on the role the Personality would play within the physical body. Multiple aspects of an individual’s Personality could be amplified or suppressed; timing and circumstance could be set to activate or repress certain aspects.
Let Sophi decide.
Raphael shook her head. More unfinished business in Nebadon, Raphael thought. The last thing I need to be thinking about right now is sweet little Sophi.
Raphael had met Sophi during Raphael’s failed mission on Urantia. They fell in love while vacationing together on Oceania.
But what’s the use of thinking about that right now? With over ten million inhabited worlds in the Shangri-La galaxy and 700,000 galaxies in Nebadon alone, Sophi could be assigned to any one of them. Realistically, I probably won’t run into her anytime soon.
Of course Raphael could visit Salvington and solicit help from Sipheria’s staff to track her down. Her staff tried to keep records on Angel locations and assignments. However, local commanders frequently reassigned Angels. Those local commanders often did not keep records. In this long war, the enemy frequently overran various outposts, and if the enemy obtained records on time and placement, it would put a lot of Angels at risk while they were bound within Material flesh. Beyond that, there was no way Raphael would reveal she was looking for a ‘special’ Seraphim named Sophi.
After the affair had ended and each had been reassigned, Raphael sent a private letter to Sipheria, containing her full confession. She nervously awaited the reply. Raphael remembered her hands shaking as she opened the letter. Sipheria’s message back to her was short, to the point, and filled with compassion. “Keep your heart open and don’t let time, distance, or circumstances diminish love. When the Mind of The Infinite Mother decides, you will be reunited. Together you can decide upon the next steps in your unfolding relationship.” At that, Raphael’s guilt and worry evaporated.
It had been forbidden for Raphael to reveal her true self while on the mission, which became known as ‘The Chicxulub Fiasco’. Raphael and her friends called it ‘The Chicxulub Fuckup’. Regardless, she had dropped enough hints to reveal she was undercover and may in fact be a lot older than the current rank she displayed. Sophi just laughed and said, “Well, what makes you so sure I’m not on a secret mission myself to observe you? I, too, might be a lot older than you think. Maybe Josh doesn’t trust an assassin to be a babysitter and wanted me to keep an eye on you.”
How could Sophi possibly know I was an assassin? Did I let information slip? Could she tell by the way I walked? My eyes? Or was it just a good guess?
“Why am I thinking about you right now?” Raphael said out loud. She felt relieved when she saw the golden shell of Nebadon’s Hiranyagarbha quickly approaching.
Part Three
Chapter 55
Marije’s New Friends
How does one come to know what is not taught?
—Glimarije
Someone had left several books on Collin’s kitchen table during the night. There was no note, no threatening letter of instructions saying something like — ‘You must immediately memorize all this or we will know you are not serious.’
The books were well-worn except for one — a little black book, small enough to slip into a pocket or purse — Thoughts on Ethics: A Message for The Sisters of Mercy, by Lady Sipheria of Nebadon.
The first few pages were blank except for a handwritten note. ‘For Marije, our newly reborn sister. With love, from Skillit and Brigettie.’
Marije burst out crying. She had received books as presents many times and often they contained beautiful messages from friends and relatives. But this simple little book and message hit her at some completely new level. She knew what was happening. Her heart was being pulled open. It was both terrifying and wonderful.
Marije wiped her eyes and started flipping through the book. Most of the text was simple aphorisms, statements, observations, and instructions. It was nothing like the detailed and often confusing statements one would find in the teachings of The Children of Luminosity, those who were responsible for bringing the path to enlightenment from the perfect mind of Lord Smigyl.
It was true that some of Lord Smigyl’s teachings were profound. Some of his teachings seemed self-evident — some were even useful. But most of his teachings were such convoluted circular references and tautologies, they subdued the rational intellect and trapped it into self-referral loops, difficult to escape. Regardless, The Children of Luminosity fervently declared their God’s teachings must become fully absorbed if one ever hoped to walk upon the path to enlightenment.
Sipheria’s teachings were different. Marije wished she could talk to one of her new friends, but Skillit was gone, and there were no guards in sight, although it was difficult to determine if the guards had actually gone or if their camouflage was so flawless, she just could not see them.
After reading a few passages, Marije’s heart was overwhelmed. She pushed the book away and busied herself — she washed her dress and underwear and hung them out to dry in the bathroom — she made herself some tea — ate some fruit — stared at the ocean as the green moon rose. The ocean felt irresistible, so she pulled off her green silk pajamas and dived into the fresh warm water. No one seemed to mind or even notice she was nude.
She took a long shower and sat down at the table to eat. Sipheria’s book called to her.
She grabbed the book and a cup of hot tea on her way to Collin’s front porch. The readings seemed to be much easier if she skipped around the book and read whatever section caught her eye. She shut the book, closed her eyes, and ran her fingernail down the edge of the pages, chance choosing what she would read. When she opened the book, her fingernail had found a section entitled, ‘Virtue and Sin’.
The section began with a diagram illustrating an outline of the standard Triteen form, highlighting the seven energy centers. However, this book did not use the term ‘Energy Center’ or ‘Marma’, nor did it use the term ‘Ratna’. The centers were not simply vague circles of seven different diffuse colors. Sipheria’s book used the term ‘Chakara’ and called them the seven modes of Personality Participation, with each chakara a colorful, detailed, fine line drawing.
Marije stared at the words, ‘Personality Participation’. A video image of Guru Patanjali flashed before her. She had been blessed enough to see it while studying under the Pharisees.
Patanjali was sitting upon his ornate golden throne, holding his hands together with a yellow flower between them. His head was turned toward a large painting of Lord Smigyl, and his eyes were closed in reverent prayer. In the painting, Lord Smigyl was sitting upon his crystal throne, his face radiating light, his eyes wide open in perfect enlightenment.
Patanjali eventually turned back toward the audience and said, “Jai Lord Smigyl.” One of the younger members of The Children of Luminosity in the audience walked to a microphone. The starry-eyed student asked the enlightened guru about the term ‘Individual Personality’. Patanjali spent the next hours exploring his question.
Periodically, the camera scanned across the massive assembly hall on Rishikesh, occasionally focusing in on the thousands of bliss-drenched faces. At the end of his analysis, Patanjali laughed out loud. “All notions of individuality are an illusion, a term of ignorance designed to comfort weak children. For all the Enlightened know that everyone and everything in the Creation is ultimately undifferentiated bliss.”
Bec
ause Marije only had a low-level security clearance, this video had been one of the only lectures she had ever seen. She had been required over the years to see it many times. Marije was not a philosopher or an intellectual giant. Yet, she found much of what The Children of Luminosity taught little more than mental masturbation, although she would have never uttered a word of this to anyone for fear of persecution by the Cardinals. Still, to live among Glamoria’s Pharisees, one had to demonstrate some level of understanding of Lord Smigyl’s Pure Knowledge, as taught by Guru Patanjali, and carried into the Overlord Celestial Heavens and the Material realms by The Children of Luminosity.
The diagram in Sipheria’s book was unbelievably simple by comparison. It contrasted two primary different modes of operation within each chakara and gave them two simple names: ‘Virtue’ and ‘Sin’.
For the first chakara the Virtue is Vigilance. The Sin is Sloth.
For the second chakara the Virtue is Patience. The Sin is Lust.
For the third chakara the Virtue is Trust. The Sin is Wrath.
For the fourth chakara the Virtue is Compassion. The Sin is Gluttony.
For the fifth chakara the Virtue is Charity. The Sin is Greed.
For the sixth chakara the Virtue is Hope. The Sin is Pride.
For the seventh chakara the Virtue is Faith. The Sin is Envy.
Marije laid the book down. She closed her eyes and rubbed them with her palms. Resting her head on her knees, she wrapped her arms around her legs, and rocked her body ever so slightly back and forth.
One of the reasons she had been able to survive in Glamoria was because she was quick to learn new information and assess situations. She had learned how to recite The Children of Luminosity’s teachings. However, it became apparent that the way The Children of Luminosity understood, or perhaps the better word was ‘experienced’ Guru Patanjali’s teachings, had nothing to do with the way Marije understood and experienced those very same words.
Whatever Guru Patanjali was teaching had nothing that even slightly approximated the simple concepts in Sipheria’s book. Marije looked at the diagram again and scanned the comparisons. She looked down the list of virtues.
So this is why I’m attracted to Skillit. She has these virtues. Is this what the Angels are really striving for? It seemed too much for anyone to tolerate a life where Vigilance, Patience, Trust, Compassion, Charity, Hope, and Faith were the everyday goals of living.
She scanned down the list of the sins. These words were easier to read. They seemed quite familiar and after reading the list several times, she was able to put individual faces with the sins. All Karolita’s friends had spent their entire existences specializing in Sloth, Lust, Wrath, Gluttony, Greed, Pride, and Envy.
“How strange,” Marije muttered to herself. “The residents of Glamoria openly revel in their sins.” Marije sudden saw how Lakshmi was the embodiment of Greed, and Smigyl was Envy.
Envy, Pride, and Greed. Greed, Pride, and Envy. Envy, Pride, and Greed. Greed, Pride, and Envy. The words ran through her mind along with the faces of the Pharisees.
She broke out in a sweat, barely making it to the bathroom before vomiting. Between stomach muscle contractions, she sat on the bathroom floor with her head swimming, remembering her horrible life in Glamoria.
There are so many in Glamoria who, if you took away their sin, there’d be nothing left.
She felt dizzy. Is that where I’ve been? Living in the realm of sin?
When she walked out of the bathroom, she met two pairs of surprised eyes. A stocky, handsome male with dark green skin was holding a couple bags of groceries. From his squarish head and body, she recognized him as a Melchizedek. The other was a small, slightly built, young girl, with a light shade of lime green skin. Her body frame reminded her of Skillit.
Instinctively, she did what survival techniques on Glamoria had taught her to do. “Hello, my name is Marije.” She held out her hand and the young girl reflexively took it. “Skillit and I slept here last night.”
She looked at the male but did not hold out her hand. “Hello, my name is Marije.” It clicked. “Are you Collin?”
The girl introduced herself. “I’m Parvarti.” Marije made sure she turned and purposely looked back at the girl, ignoring Collin. “I’m happy to meet you.”
“And this is my boyfriend, Collin.”
Marije turned back to Collin and gave him enough of a smile to be polite while keeping a good distance away. The last thing she needed was a jealous girlfriend. After all, a strange girl had just come out of her boyfriend’s bedroom wearing a pair of pajamas that from the size and shade of green were probably hers.
“I apologize for my intrusion. If you’ll please give me just a minute, I’ll get dressed and find somewhere else to read.” Marije quickly walked into the bedroom, closed the door, and dressed, relieved that her clothes were dry. She gave the pajamas a quick rinse, hung them across the tiny clothesline in the bathroom, and emerged from the bedroom, eyes focused on the floor.
By then, Collin and Parvarti were in the kitchen, snacking while unpacking their food. Marije’s books had been moved to the living room coffee table. “Thank you for allowing me the comfort of your home, I will be…”
“Don’t thank me. Thank Skillit,” Collin called over, not looking.
“Have you had any breakfast?” Parvarti asked.
“Oh, no I haven’t. But I don’t want to impose,” Marije said.
“No imposition,” Collin said.
Marije watched carefully to see if Parvarti’s face had changed. It had, but not to the frown she expected. Rather, Parvarti broke into a smile. “Yeah, no imposition. Not right now, that is,” giving Collin a sly smile.
It made Marije feel good to see the sweet expression they exchanged.
“Unless you’re still feeling too sick to eat,” Parvarti said, appearing genuinely concerned.
“No, I’m fine. Why?”
“I thought I heard you throwing up.”
“No...” Had I been sick? “Yes, I was, wasn’t I? I forgot.”
Collin looked at Marije. “Was it Sipheria’s book that made you sick?” Parvarti asked, remembering they had found Sipheria’s book lying on the floor when they entered.
“Sorry. I don’t know why I can’t remember,” Marije said. “But you’re right. That’s what it was. I was reading the section comparing sin to virtue and suddenly I became nauseous. I guess that seems stupid, doesn’t it?”
Collin and Parvarti spoke in one voice. “No, not stupid at all. Happens all the time.”
Collin waved her over, and Marije joined them at the table.
“Really?” Marije said.
“Haven’t you ever seen Sipheria’s book before?” Parvarti asked.
Marije nervously shook her head. There were certain core books in Smigyl and Lakshmi’s heavens that everybody had read. Marije knew they were on to her. Soon they would know she was a Yukta Yogi and not an Angel.
“You’re lucky,” Parvarti said with a laugh as she crunched on a carrot. “Try reading that shit as a child. It’ll mess you up for life.”
“So, where are you from? I thought every Angel in Nebadon had read Sipheria’s book,” Collin asked, shoving a spoonful of granola in his mouth.
“Outside Nebadon?” Marije responded hesitantly.
“Yeah, yeah. We get it,” Collin said, not looking up from his granola. “Assassins are always coming through here from all over Orvonton and can’t say where they’re from.”
“So you don’t know who I am then?” Parvarti asked eagerly.
Marije shook her head no.
“Great,” Parvarti grinned.
I don’t get it. They think I’m an assassin from outside Nebadon and I’ve seen these things many times before. Who are these two that they don’t care if an assassin has been sleeping in their bed?
“Should I know?” Marije asked. On Glamoria if someone important was not recognized immediately, they would not be wearing Parvarti’s expression.
They would be incensed.
“Parvarti has a hard time because she’s…”
“Ouch,” Collin said as Parvarti punched him hard in the shoulder. “That’s sore.” He dropped his spoon and rubbed himself. “That’s right where Josie hit me.”
“Josie, as in Colonel Doulmahel?”
“Ah, so you know the wonderful Josephine but you don’t know Sipheria’s book?” Parvarti smiled, but there was just enough sarcasm that Marije thought she was probably serious.
“Oh, come on Parvarti. Assassins usually have to have the local commander’s authorization for a mission, especially if they’re going to spend any time on Oceania,” Collin said, continuing to shovel granola in his face.
“Yeah, you’re right.” Parvarti sighed and looked at Marije. “I keep forgetting that not everyone had Sipheria for a nanny.”
“Really? Sipheria was your nanny?” Marije asked with surprise.
“Oh, crap,” Parvarti said, letting her forehead hit the table.
Parvarti looked back to Marije, awaiting the next question — the question that always came after anyone discovered that Sipheria had been her nanny. Then Collin looked up from his granola and stared at Marije.
“I’m sorry,” Marije said. “What am I missing?”
“See,” Collin said, looking at Parvarti, who looked back at him. “She’s not playing with you. This is just the way assassins are. They don’t ask a lot of questions. But, I promise you, they do listen extremely well.” Collin went back to his granola.
Parvarti sighed, looking a touch sad. “Usually the next question is, ‘Who are your parents?’ And that always seems to ruin the relationship.”
Lilith: Eden's Planetary Princess (The Michael Archives Book 1) Page 43