“So, how do all these abilities work. There has to be a source. The mechanics of it.”
“Come. I’ll try to explain.” We walked to the bench and pine trees across from the Dining Hall and sat down. “The human brain has almost unlimited capabilities in what it can ... provide in terms of information and capabilities. The brain has built in safeguards - filters or energy blocks that can be opened and closed to provide certain experiences and information. This is highly selective.
“In times of stress and need these blocks or filters can open or be opened to provide what you need. Like you and your daughter.” I looked at the pine tree and stroked some needles, which I always find comforting. “As for myself, some people have certain filters or blocks removed, born without them to provide certain abilities, or they are opened at strategic times in their lives to provide needed experiences. That’s me, and others here who you are meeting who have some remarkable abilities. Cultures and societies have to be open to these possibilities for them to work. What we call the Sound Language is one of these. So are certain psychic abilities.” I sighed. “You would not want someone or a group of people who have no ethics to have the Sound Language.”
Brian grunted. “Nooo. I saw what Kirfin was trying to do. That would be ... disastrous.”
I looked at him. “It was. No ethics or spiritual responsibility. I was involved with that once. It destroyed a world and a prosperous society. We can’t allow that to happen here.” I nodded. “The filters or energy blocks are there for a reason and generally can’t be tampered with or opened without good cause.”
“Who controls these filters or energy blocks?”
“Generally, the Entity of which you are a part. If the Entity is not mature enough, then there are other more developed Beings that take the responsibility.” I said. We walked back to the others.
It was mid afternoon by the time I’d eaten and returned to the map room. I composed myself, sending portions of myself to Burt Clark and his military patrol, the Castaway as they called him, my brother and his group, and finally my wife, son, and Greg. I moved the pins on the map, seeing them slowly converge. Judith and Laith sensed me around. It wasn’t long before they decided to make camp about a quarter of a mile from a game trail and a pond. Judith and Laith built a fire while Greg cooked up some food. I felt uneasy without knowing why. The selves I sent out returned without any unusual information. Sometimes we can take the feeling and follow it to its source.
I backpedaled. The face of a full grown Siberian Tiger, bloody and feeding on a freshly killed elk, entered my reality. I widened the focus to include location and time. Two miles north of their camp sight and within striking distance of all three parties. Anyone dealing with wild animals knows they are notoriously hard to predict. They’re primarily concerned with food, self-preservation, and procreating. And one other thing, curiosity. No telling where that will aim them. I gently nudged Judith and Laith. They looked at each other and Greg. “Jamie is around,” Judith said. Having their attention, I sent images of the Tiger and its location. They immediately built up the fire and I told them that I and my friends from the Other side would stand guard. Stand guard is an odd term. Wild animals are notoriously hard to control by human agency. The best you can do is be aware of them and their course in advance so you can take evasive action. Siberian Tigers, the greatest predators of western Russia, probably escaped from some private or public wild animal park. We’d heard of them, but never seen one in our area. People are just another food source for them. The army killed any nonnative predator on sight, considering them too deadly to have around.
I checked the Castaway. His skinny taut body shivered in the evening cold beneath a ragged denim shirt and patched jeans. He pulled a holey blanket over his thin body. The crushed big toe, black and swollen, and the torn bicep beginning to infect must have been excruciating, but the man’s enormous mental focus fought the pain to manageable levels. He knew he was finished physically and only lived to complete one thing - the killing of my brother Jesse. The high-powered rifle with the shattered stock contained three cartridges. He was inspecting the weapon like a lover, insuring it could complete its mission. Satisfied, he pulled leaves, bark and branches around him to conserve body heat. He’d placed himself across from a dry lake bed he knew Jesse and his family must cross. There was no way to go around. I went to our army patrol.
Burt Clark and his five man patrol sat beside a fire against a limestone outcropping. They were checking weapons. Their mule stood tethered to a couple of small trees, muzzle in a feed bag. Burt left nothing to chance. He’d been running patrols for seven years since he was seventeen. He was considered the best of the best in noncommissioned officers. Carson had given him a standing offer of an officer’s commission, but so far he’d refused. Burt opened the case with the sniper’s rifle.
“Gawd, Sarge, you dating the creature? Never seen you look so pleased.”
“Beautiful, isn’t she,” Burt said, voice a prayer, eyes lighting in wonder at the weapon.
“See, Marve, the Sarge’s been in the boonies too long. Doesn’t remember what a real woman looks like.” Corporal Rich Mitchell shook his young head sadly.
Marve, an older quiet man, grinned. “Yup, been in the boonies too long, Rich. But to his credit he’s engaged to a lady from Cheshire.”
“Tis in his favor,” Rich agreed. “Why’d you bring it, Sarge? Haven’t done that before.”
“Don’t really know,” Burt mused. “Just a strong feeling we’d need it. Very real hunch.”
“You’ve kept our asses out of trouble more than a time or two with your hunches,” Marve said, picking up a coffee cup snuggled in the ashes of the fire. He blew on the brew, tested it with a thick finger, and blew again.
Jesse and his family had made camp about a mile from the Castaway. I touched Felice and told her of the Siberian Tiger. Felice told her people, but changed the tiger to wolves. They built up a good fire and tethered the horses close. Jesse, weak but healing, ate and fell asleep almost immediately. I’d recruited healers from the Other side to work on Jesse’s physical body. The children and Marcy with Allen took turns mounting watches and feeding the fire. I took Jesse, out of his body, to a healing center and turned him over to friends.
I went back to my physical body and then to dinner with Abe, Meg and Victoria. I reassured them about Judith, Laith, and Greg. That everything seemed to be on course. We enjoyed our evening together with friends playing tumbling towers, pickup sticks, snakes and ladders, and poker. Then after everyone went to bed, I stretched out on an easy chair in front of the wood stove with its small fire and dozed. Sometime during the night someone tucked a couple of blankets around me with a neck pillow. I woke early, wrote a note to Abe, Meg and Victoria, and went to the map room.
Severin sat waiting for me. An old friend and associate. “When are you going to tell your people?”
“About?”
“Your son and the Transition in your system.”
I smiled. “I was waiting for you to tell me. I wasn’t sure you knew.”
“How much does Laith know?” Severin busied himself making herb tea.
“I can’t say. He’s knows his abilities are far from normal, and must suspect they have some special use,” I said.
“You know the trigger?” Severin stopped, eying me, holding the teapot, steam curling out the spout.
“A supernova at the heart of our galaxy. He’s part of an ancient Entity who helped create the Earth. That Entity was part of an older Entity who helped create our galaxy. These Entities still take an active interest in the Earth. They have lent their knowledge and expertise to Laith, helping craft abilities and conduits of knowledge and energy.” I took a breath. “The best I can come up with is opening some dormant abilities in mankind as a whole that can lead to what we have in the Four Planet Federation.” I saw Severin, start. “And you thought you were in for a prolonged collective disaster.” I grinned. “There wouldn’t be any point in our
coming unless there was a collective vehicle for change. What we have in the Federation is for maturing Entities. This system is ripe for change.”
“Thank you, Jamie. I am relieved to hear it,” Severin said, bringing two steaming cups of herb tea. A honey pot sat on the table. “I took the liberty of bringing your favorite tea from the ship, Haqesta.”
“Wow. I’d almost forgotten.” I picked up the mug and savored the tangy aroma from the steam. This particular herb helped focus our energies to get information from our Entities. A channel.
“You do pretty well on your own,” Severin said, “but it doesn’t hurt to supplement at times. Your memories are almost complete. But you don’t trust your Entity.”
“Entities have their own agenda, Severin. It’s the personalities they create that often suffer for it. Learning is wonderful, but ... ” I said.
“I can’t argue that.” Severin savored the tea.
“Enough of that,” I said. “This transition will allow more give and take, more communication with the Entity. There will be less manipulation by the Entity and more of a partnership between the two. It will provide the landscape for faster maturation.” I spread my hands. “That is why we are here.”
“In a nutshell,” Severin agreed. He bent over the map and the converging colored pins. “You sure you want to take the chance? There’s still time to intervene.”
I closed my eyes, sipped my tea, and did some special breathing. Then I was at my lighthouse, the day sunny, warm with a few fluffy white clouds sailing slowly by. The great pine trees scattered the sunlight on the garden below. My Entity perched on the rock as before, old eyes watching veiled with humor and some fathomless knowledge. “Welcome,” she said.
I did a double take. “Calm yourself, Jamie. You know we Entities are a balanced combination of both male and female. At least we work at that. Last time I represented myself as a male. Aren’t I beautiful?.” She was; exquisite, mature, stylish, and something else.
“Don’t,” I said.
“I’m sorry,” she said, and dropped the essence of my mother. “I wanted you to feel comfortable. I can get her to come.”
“No thank you. Not today. I know she’s safe and happy with my father.” Another story.
“How can I help you?” She studied me. “You don’t trust me.”
“I’d like to.”
“Have I ever lied to you?” The wise eyes studied me.
“No.”
“Let’s go with that.”
“I’m looking for information dealing with what will happen this morning with the three groups of people involved with my brother.”
My Entity jumped down from the rock. “Stroll with me. You’ve done an excellent job of manipulating all parties involved, but you don’t know what will happen. You neutralized Kirfin without violence. Nice touch. You’re using other parts of me, even if you don’t want to admit it. I’m not a malicious degenerate and you aren’t a puppet on a string.”
“I’m not so sure of the last part,” I said.
“True. But being brand new in one sense, you had no say. That is the catch twenty-two every Entity goes through when they create a personality out of their energy. So, your questions?”
“How can I make this work - sparing Jesse’s life?”
“I wish I could tell you. Sometimes you just have to go with the flow and trust. The trouble is you’re dealing with more than just yourself. You are dealing with how many people - three army men, one shooter - your Castaway, Judith, Laith, and Greg from your community, and all of Jesse’s family? Each Being has an input. Each Being has an intent. Each Being has an hoped for outcome even if they may not be aware of the coming incident. Each Being is a variable that affects all the others. Whatever probability doesn’t happen in your physical reality will happen elsewhere. That is for others more developed than you to deal with.” She took my hand, and walked with me into the lighthouse. I could feel her energy course through me, blending until I wasn’t sure where I ended and she began.
She led me up to the light and the splendid view overlooking the sea. “One day, after you are done with this life. I will lead you up here and show you the panorama of our Being. Yes, ours. For I am you and you are me. At some future Moment Point, you will have my awareness and knowledge and understanding. For now, do not fear the future in your realm of reality. Go back and have faith in your Moment Point. There are lessons that need to happen for a number of people involved so the future, as you think of it, can unfold in a fruitful way.”
Unfold in a fruitful way. Unfold in a fruitful way. I opened my eyes on my old friend who sat quietly, in helpful silence, lending his energy in a supportive way. “And?”
I shook my head. “No real answer. I think I was being gently told it wasn’t my place to create a final outcome. Playing God. Others have input, too, and I might manipulate it only so far, and then I have to trust the future. You can’t live other people’s lives. We have saying here, bug off, man.”
“Curious idiom,” Severin said. “So?”
“I go with the flow.” But I felt like a restless bear, knowing what I wanted, but not being able to do anything about it. Gawd Almighty.
16
Abe, Meg and Victoria came by the map room, and we went over to the Dining Hall to have breakfast. There we joined Greg’s wife Alice and son Issac, an energetic redhead of fifteen. I assured them Greg was okay. But Alice was distracted, plainly going to be focused on her man until Greg walked through the Main Gate. Issac, polite, sensed there was something he wasn’t being told. He had a gift for sensing the truth. He was a close friend of Laith’s. I often suspected they were related - not from the same Entity, but from a family of Entities all related to the same source. Children of the Source.
“Greg, Judith, and Laith will meet up with Jesse’s family today,” I said.
Issac said, “And the army patrol you arranged?”
“Insurance,” I said. Then I told them of the Castaway and the sniper’ s rifle.
“And?” Issac stared at me. Crap. I should have known he knew there was something else.
I grimaced and said carefully. “There’s a Siberian Tiger in the vicinity. That I did not see.”
“Not good, but thank you,” Issac said. “You’re running interference as far as you can, Jamie.”
“Not as much as I’d like,” I said, and turned to my breakfast. Helen joined us, plainly preoccupied with Laith. “He’s safe.” She nodded, smiling faintly. I patted her shoulder. Charles and Mary showed up, and decided to stay with Alice. As I sat there, I realized Judith, Laith and Greg were hiking past the Castaway across the dry lake bed. He just sat there watching, unnoticed in the brush two hundred feet away. They’d have to go back the same way. He had only to wait.
An hour later at the map room, I sent one of my selves with our people. I watched as they met Jesse and his tribe. The excitement as the food, shoes, and clothes came off the pack mules. The wonder in the children as they tried on the new clothes and shoes. The beginning of the let down from their long journey, realizing they were really almost there. But they still had to make it past the dry lake bed. Tomorrow.
I left a portion of myself with my family and went to find Burt and his patrol. They were three miles away. I had to move them closer. This required delicate work. I had to give Burt a reason to head for our people. Burt and his patrol stood on a rise using binoculars to scan the area. As Burt looked south he saw a large undetermined animal in the brush. I intercepted the image and changed it in his mind to a large cat. “Tiger,” Burt said, pointing south.
“I think I see it, too,” Rich agreed, young voice excited.
Marve licked a finger and raised it to the air. “We are up wind of what you see. Won’t affect Frankie. But once she gets a whiff of our striped friend, she’ll be thata way.”-
“Amen to that,” Burt said. “Pack what you need in case that happens. You know what to do.” They spent the next half hour getting ready. Burt carried his r
ifle slung across his chest and the sniper’s rifle on his shoulder. They began to move south toward the dry lake bed. Satisfied, I went to look at the Castaway.
The thin man sipped water sparingly from a plastic bottle. Then got up to pee and stretch. He shook himself like a dog and settled down. He must have been in incredible pain with his broken black big toe and swollen bicep, but seemed to have it under control. A light bulb went off in my head. Use the Sound Language to change the molecular structure of the explosive in the bullets. Gawd, why didn’t I think of that before? I focused on the bullets, but came up against an energy wall. The Castaway’s Entity. “Meddlesome creature,” It said. “You think I’m going to let you ruin a spontaneous future. Take your Sound Language and leave.”
“I will do anything to save my brother Jesse.”
“He doesn’t need saving. He will survive physical death whether it’s now or years from now.” There was scorn, almost contempt in the thought.
“Why would you allow your personality to destroy a promising future for my brother?”
“His future, as you see it, is only one of many. He has, like every personality, many futures that will be played out. You, even you with all your vast abilities, are so parochial in your viewpoint, that you cannot see this. You yearn that the future, your pitiful one future as you see it, is protected to the point where no spontaneity is available. You’re trying to trap your brother into a bloodless future that cannot exercise itself to give the best result to all concerned. And my personality, too. Even I don’t know what is going to happen. Choices! It all comes down to choices. Each of the personalities makes choices, and more choices, and then more choices. Where does that lead? Almost endless futures. The roads not traveled are traveled. Portions of us travel all these roads. They all get played out.” I could feel a brittle humor.
“Come sit with me, and I’ll explain. I’m not an ogre or a degenerate as you see my personality. Come.” His familiar energy patted a log a hundred feet from the Castaway. I came and sat, feeling drawn irresistibly to his Energy. “Everything happens in the Moment Point. You see your past as already happened, but everything is fluid and changes from what you do in the Moment Point. As your past changes so does your future change. Think of the Moment Point as an eternal ripple going out from a pebble in a pond. You are the pebble and the ripple. The ripple, the choice, goes out not just into the future but into the past. Everything - every thought, intent, and action has an energy signature, a frequency, that leaves its mark on the Skein of Time some call the Akashic Records. Because of what you do in the Moment Point, The Eternal Now, changes everything. That’s why it is notoriously hard to predict the future. You can never leave the Moment Point. It is your access to Reality. You can view and experience the past and future from the Moment Point, and if you stayed a while you’d see both the past and future change. Go and trust the future. And remember. Remember.”
Children of the Source Page 25