by J. K. Scott
Without hesitation, I said, “I’m certain.”
With a faint smile, she said, “Good. You will be incognito for months or even years. More important, you will obey strict instructions that will protect your life and mine to conceal our identities.”
“I’m aware of the consequences.”
“We will work on high-risk programs for Beyond Black Borders that delve even deeper. What you thought you knew or believed will be challenged. Evolving your consciousness is the purpose of your existence. There’s a quote from Thomas Campbell that states, ‘Wisdom is acquired by a vast amount of knowledge and the ultimate reality is consciousness.’”
I took a sip of coffee but kept my eyes on her, listening and absorbing her words regarding my journey. I carefully placed my cup on the counter, saying in a strong voice, “I’m committed.”
“With that settled, I need to train you on the computer access manager, or CAM, and the smartphone access manager, or SAM, which is linked to a proprietary satellite. This will enable you to access BBB’s network with security beyond any commercial or dark web networks.
“After our training, we will meet with Anthony, Lee, and Ashley at a private site accessed by the helio. Ronzo’s will continue to be in your life. BBB has vetted them for ‘approved contact’ during your lifetime. And after we leave here, you will meet with them for an hour.”
Ronzo would have insisted on meeting me before I went undercover. Grateful for their friendship and business acumen, they already had information to manage my property and finances.
In a stern voice, Sara said, “Let’s get started.”
For two hours, Sara challenged my abilities and innate skills as well as my fortitude to pass BBB’s communication equipment and critical codes requirements. I hoped my skills wouldn’t disappoint Sara. Her ability to time travel blew my mind. I was curious and anxious to know more about the invisible forces that enabled her to do so.
In a serious tone, Sara said, “Dak, you need to comprehend that you have special skills that haven’t been developed. You are capable of doing far more. The fragmented dot images you received from the hiker were the courier’s originals. What you accomplished in Florida with the BBB group to materialize the fragments was impressive. Your skills developed two formed objects that couldn’t be seen by our limited eyesight. You were able to access another dimension and materialize it in ours.”
Realizing the significance, I saw that I had organized a two-dimensional form into three dimensions in our four-dimensional reality; however, I was unable to place it in time. Possibly other dimensions overlapped our limited four dimensions, which made it vulnerable to messages and other unknown invisible forces. I knew the rescue mission had to be linked to cosmic aliens or masters possibly for an unknown rescue in time. This would be very disruptive to our worldviews, which were fraught with fear derived from our ignorance.
Sara said, “The recent data on Tabby’s Star could be the tip of the iceberg about cosmic intelligence. The speculation that UFVs derived from another dimension suggests our dimension has been intruded upon, which complicates our comprehension of transitional fields or frequencies. I believed those who denied otherworldly existence will someday be challenged and confronted with our reality that humans are not alone.”
I thought about my denial when I’d feared the shadowy messenger. Few would ever believe I’d witnessed the 1859 Carrington Event, which had led to the discovery of solar storms.
39
THE SUN’S RAYS sprayed their devastating heat upon Bush Highway. The helio lowered onto a dusty dirt road covered in desert scrub. In the distance, I admired the eight-thousand-foot elevation of the Mazatzal Mountains exposing Four Peaks that could be seen for miles. It was believed the word Mazatzal was from the Aztec’s language and meant “Place of the Deer,” which were abundant in the eastern wooded area.
I hiked to our meeting destination in the devastating heat without shade. Meeting with Anthony, Lee, and Ashley flooded me with joy. There was so much I wanted to share with them, but I could only express how grateful I was for them being in my life. I discreetly shared with them that our special emergency code would always be active. With our limited time together, we went over the DWJ protocols for contact and management of Father’s and my cabin as well as my accounts.
They understood my decision to go undercover even though I couldn’t talk about DWJ or my work with Sara. After our meeting, I left them, not knowing when I’d see them again. Anthony, Lee, and Ashley assured me they would always be there for me.
With a heavy heart, I hiked back to the waiting helio and Sara. We flew over the Mogollon Rim and Verde Valley in silence. The Sunset Rest Stop was lined with truckers supplying the valley with goods.
Sara interrupted our silence to inform me, “We will be landing at the Flagstaff airport. From there, you’ll be on a private plane to Charlottesville, Virginia.”
Surprised by the plans, I said, “Virginia?”
“Yes, you are flying to Virginia. You will be attending the institute under Dillon Shaw, who works in the graphics department at Arizona State.” Sara passed me a large brown envelope with my new identity documents to study on the flight.
With a tone of seriousness, I asked, “What else?”
“You will attend consciousness-expanding sessions for several months. I’ll be following your progress. You will send weekly reports to Turbero at DWJ. These sessions will provide you with insights to better serve you in your new assignments. And, Dillon, your past identity has been totally erased. You will need to form a new memory. There’s a script to memorize for consistency. And you will memorize it word for word, or there could be serious issues.”
I couldn’t imagine what the training was about but accepted it as an assignment. At the Flagstaff airport, I was introduced to a youthful Daniel, who was dressed in white slacks and an untucked blue collared shirt. He led me inside the airport terminal and entered a short jet bridge to a luxurious plane. There were ten rows with four tan leather seats across. The luxury seats extended into sleepers with screens and deluxe trays for dining or work. The back of the plane had a round sofa for the conversational passengers. I sat in the fourth row and planned to sleep on the coastal flight.
Daniel offered me beverage service, saying, “You are the only passenger.” He left me a menu with four entrées listed. I ordered a protein drink and a vegetarian dish to be courteous as the only passenger. I was hoping to sleep but decided to eat and read instead. Within ten minutes, the plane silently sailed into the cloudless blue sky into the sunset.
After we landed, Daniel drove me to a Charlottesville hotel. “You are registered in room 204. At seven in the morning, a D-auto with signage will take you to the institute.” Daniel passed me my key card and wished me a comfortable stay.
I carried my heavy backpack into the hotel lobby, glancing at the guests in the lounge who were laughing. I envied their easy ability to converse with others, but maybe they knew each other. I went to the room to study the data about the institute on the DWJ computer access manager (CAM).
My dossier closely followed my profile before working at Cascade, which made it easier to remember.
The next morning, the driver with the institute’s signage was waiting for me. The scenic drive through the lush Blue Ridge Mountain areas paralleled the beauty of the Arizona desert. However, Virginia had a unique milieu with aromas and view of the turning fall leaves. I opened the windows to breathe the musky air and inhaled the scent of oak, sycamore, and Virginia pine trees. The driver arrived at the institute’s property and continued on up a curvy hill. The top of the hill hosted the institute, which had been home to a past pioneer who’d developed unique sounds and binaural beats for consciousness expansion. The institute, founded in 1979, had been raising consciousness for thousands of students domestically and globally for more than sixty years.
I wondered why m
y father hadn’t sent me to the institute in my earlier years. Forward thinking, he had taught me to always question and challenge my beliefs.
A woman named Amy greeted me with a welcoming smile. She had intelligent blue eyes and a calm presence for her young age. She was wearing a blue sundress. She guided me on a historic tour of the well-preserved multistory home. Every scenic window overlooked the brownish-green manicured lawns, which were surrounded by lush soil for spring bulb-planting season. In the distance, I admired Miranon Lake, which, Amy explained, was enjoyed by summer students.
The white-carpeted living room was where the past pioneer held his research development and intense conversations. From the notorious room, a door led to a short back hall with a bathroom on the left and a small room on the right with three single-bed booths. A black drape closed the three booths for privacy, darkness, and sound. Headphones hung above the pillows.
Amy pointed to the booth on the right, saying, “This was the original booth used for research from a pass-through window to the living room for communication.” Amy pointed to the covered pass-through window outside the booth’s wall. “Go ahead and lie in CHEC unit, or Controlled Holistic Environment Chamber, for our mission here.”
I dropped my backpack and crawled into the booth previously used by the pass-through window for communication. I lay in the bed, staring at the ceiling, before closing the black curtain for total darkness. I reflected on those before me who’d enhanced their consciousness by listening to binaural beats that altered the brain’s state to higher frequencies. I contemplated my future experiences at the institute. As I focused in the CHEC, I visualized the mahogany squares that covered the three walls and ceiling inside the booth. I could see raised unknown symbols engraved inside each wood square. I wondered if I had captured my own or another previous vision. Awed by being in the original booth, I could have stayed there for hours contemplating the history of the CHEC.
After several minutes, Amy said, “You can return later, but we need to continue our tour. Three decades ago, the home held twenty students, with more booths upstairs. Today, the historic home is a private historic visitors’ center and holds special meetings since our expansion to several other buildings.”
We returned to the living room, which was decorated with photos and paintings of wide-eyed foxes that had befriended the pioneering family’s home. An extensive wood deck surrounded the back of the house, overlooking the lake in the sloping valley. Along a side of the house, a sprawling vast lawn centered a monumental rose quartz statue from Brazil that towered over tall humans.
Amy said, “This is a memorial and a place for students and visitors to meditate.”
I left the porch and walked to the stone, recalling Harmony’s words that rose quartz was the love stone; it vibrated unconditional love, joy, and emotional healing. I stepped on the base of the energetic stone and pressed my hand on the rose quartz, sensing a warmness that filled my heart. I kept my hand pressed on the stone, wanting to meditate on the bench nearby, but Amy waited for me on the porch. I’d return later when I had more time.
Amy led me through the dining room and through a back area that led to an enclosed glass spiral staircase that opened to a deck on the roof of the multistory house. The panoramic view overlooked the rose quartz stone and tops of pine trees, which captivated my attention. I stood there for a few minutes before Amy suggested we move on.
We took a short walk to another building. It housed the administration staff, library, and a large meeting room, which Amy told me had been expanded over the years. Amy informed me I’d be staying at a recently built private cottage hidden in the hills. We took the electric cart to where I would be staying.
The hillside cottage surrounded by woodsy evergreens enclosed a stone porch that opened to a large great room with cozy lemon-yellow couches and lounge chairs. The ten-chair dining table seated the instructor, staff, and students. The private cottage had only six bedrooms for students. It also had an expansive wood deck that overlooked the valley and the historic house’s rooftop.
Amy introduced me to Mia, the instructor. She was a slender, classically styled middle-aged woman with short blonde hair, brown eyes, and a silky voice. Amy told me the welcome introduction would be after the other two students arrived. Mia led me to my room with a CHEC that was larger than the original chambers. On the desk, an electronic notepad announced the sessions. A button sensor was also on the desk. It would adhere to my clothes during my stay.
Mia explained, “As a student, we ask you to wear it when you take long walks or hikes on the property.”
After years of avoiding sensors, I wondered if the institute had lost hikers in the lush forest. Already SAM relayed my location in the cottage.
Mia asked if I had any questions. I had none. She then introduced me to Leo and Artie, the two staffers who cooked the meals and managed any incidentals needed during my stay.
Mia left me to my own devices. I unpacked and placed the sensor on my shirt to explore the property. I hiked to a higher elevation and sat on a rock on a steep hillside. I mulled over my life and how I had overlooked Cascade’s limitations, neglecting a bigger vision for my life. My mind felt clear, and I knew I would be facing my fears.
When I returned from the hike, Mia introduced me to my fellow students. Samuel was a tall, balding, muscular man in his fifties, and Joshua was a slender younger man, who barely voiced a hello. Samuel, recently retired, spoke freely about working as a security officer for private companies. Joshua lacked the physical stamina to be a security officer. I suspected he worked as a computer guru. He spoke softly but had busy eyebrows and piercing dark eyes that could have melted steel; he politely avoided saying anything about his life.
The first evening session focused on physical and mental relaxation. I lay in the cubicle bed with soothing synthesized sounds. I sank into the bed as my body became lighter and lighter. My awareness focused on random patterns that sank me into a relaxed state. Encouraged by the first session, I knew I’d face far more challenges than relaxing. I had to admit I missed the spa tank at DWJ, which lulled me to sleep immediately.
Each session in the booth included synchronized sound from a system that encouraged me to advance my previous experiences. I had become efficient at transitioning to a relaxed state. After each session, we met in the great room to share our expanded experiences. Samuel freely shared every nuance of his awareness, while Joshua said he had only reached the state of relaxation. The expanding sessions continued for the week, as we probed our consciousness and confronted our fears. We had limited time to enjoy the outdoors, study, or read. The week ended with Samuel sobbing that he had experienced profound peace he had never known existed. Joshua claimed he had explored depths of himself to overcome his bashfulness. I shared my heightened awareness and increased visualizations and mystical patterns.
After the session, I returned to a different hotel in the 10.3-square-mile town of Charlottesville. During the week break from my discovery classes, I explored historic Charlottesville. I walked around the University of Virginia campus and studied at the library. I toured Monticello, Thomas Jefferson’s plantation; James Monroe’s estate; and the cemeteries for both properties. Impressed by our presidential history and the writing of the Constitution, I realized I hadn’t seriously studied our US history. I bought several history books, plus a copy of the Constitution in the Monticello gift shop.
During the second-week break, I visited the National Radio Astronomy Observatory and hiked in Shenandoah National Park. My time in Virginia had become the ultimate vacation, along with the life-altering, soul-searching experiences. My insightful dreams kept me active with journal writing.
During the near-death experience session, I became more knowledgeable about transitions in life. I shared my experience falling off the roof. However, I wondered why Sara hadn’t contacted me in a month. I continued to send my weekly reports to DWJ, disappointed
there wasn’t a response. I wrote about my raw experiences from DWJ, assuming they were reading my reports.
40
THE LAST FEW weeks became overly intense. I had met many enthusiastic, forward-thinking students at the sessions and discovered many were scientists, authors, captains of industry, politicians, mathematicians, and doctors who discreetly attended the sessions. Rumors floated that famous authors wrote their latest books while staying in the cottages. It was mind-enhancing to have friendly debates and philosophical conversations with the other students.
The class on out-of-body experiences (OBE) was my biggest challenge. I had become stuck, unable to move outside the comfort of my room. As I relaxed, listening to the binaural beat music, I felt the overwhelming paralysis and strange buzzing vibrations from my body but was unable to confront my fears and explore beyond the room. Understanding your personal powers of intuition and OBEs were teachings at the institute for expanding consciousness. Frustrated, I wondered if Sara would drop me.
This week, I didn’t get my weekly break to camp overnight in the Appalachian Mountains. I loved my newfound freedom, but it began to interfere with my lessons. Turbero replied to my last report to DWJ stating that Sara wouldn’t contact me until I had attained a certain level of consciousness.
Rebelliousness raised its ugly head. I knew I hadn’t been totally honest with myself. Mia offered to give me private sessions. She encouraged me to evaluate my progress. I admitted I had slacked off in the sessions. When she asked me about the energy body session and frequencies of the chakras, I panicked.
I recalled the chakra session did not keep my attention. Melanie kept creeping into my mind regarding our troubled relationship. Harmony also captured my thoughts with her enthusiasm about the chakras and crystals. I was even distracted by the female students who had more experience than I did.
I admitted I’d strayed from the session and asked Mia, “Could it be a male thing?”