Vigo shook his head. “No thanks, son; just leave it there for the time being. You can have the whole thing if you like. What I want to know is if you're traveling alone?” Vigo already knew the boy had a surviving mother and younger sister. Perhaps they would be the ones hiding out there in the night, waiting for him to call them.
The boy pawed the ground with the toe of his battered hiking boot for a moment and finally answered, “My mother and sister are with me."
Vigo holstered his pistol and smiled. “My name is Vigo Jones, son, and I think I can scrounge up something tastier than feral dog for you and your kin. Tell me, what is your name?"
“I'm Timmy Watkins, but folks just call me Tim. My Mother is Helen, and my little sister is Jenny."
“Well Tim, I'd like to invite all three of you to dinner, so please call Helen and Jenny in."
The boy hesitated as he studied Vigo's face in the glow of the cargo light. Somehow, he sensed he was in safe company—the company of a friend. “Sure.” He put two fingers to his lips and whistled loudly for his mother and sister.
Moments later, Vigo watched a tall, thin woman in her early to mid thirties walk out of the shadows hand-in-hand with a young girl. The girl looked to be six years of age, more or less. The mother and child walked up along side the boy. “We sure could use a drink of fresh water,” the woman asked timidly.
“I'll fix you up,” Vigo replied jumping up into the back of the truck. A few moments later, he stuck his head out the back. “Catch ‘em.” He tossed three small bottles to the boy. “Sip it slowly,” he reminded them.
Relieved by the gift of water, the boy's mother took a deep satisfying drink, and, wiping her lips asked, “Are you a Homer?"
The boy answered for Vigo. “No he's not, mama."
“The boy's right ma'am,” Vigo added, “I'm no Homer. As a matter of fact, I'd like to help you and your children if you'll let me."
Tall and gaunt, there was still a haunting beauty in her face and in the elegant lines of her body. Beneath that tragic exterior beat the heart of woman who had lost much. Now a stranger in uniform was offering her kindness, even though he was clearly in a position to do whatever he wanted with her. Perhaps if she submitted without making him ask, any possibility of a confrontation could be avoided. As a sign of willing submission, she unbuttoned the top of her blouse, pulling back enough of the material to reveal the edge of her breast and slightly lowering her head while keeping her eyes focused on his.
Vigo gently shook his head no, and motioned her to refasten her blouse. The gentle rebuke surprised her, leaving her feeling a bit self-conscious. As she nervously refastened her blouse Vigo asked, “So tell me, Helen, how long have you known that your son is gifted in a special way?"
“Most always,” she answered feebly, while casting furtive glances at her son and the .22 semi-automatic rifle, now pointed at the ground.
“Tim, you're what is called an Indigo child,” Vigo said to the boy. “Have you heard that expression before?” The boy shook his head no.
“OK, then let's see if this fits. You're always sure of yourself and able to see things coming long before most others do."
“Yeah,” the boy answered hesitatingly. “It gets me into trouble too sometimes. Drives people nuts when I figure things out before they do."
Vigo's laughter broke the night making the boy and his family smile. “By God, you are an Indigo for sure. Young fellow, you and the others like you represent the seed of man's next evolutionary step forward, and that makes you very precious. But I think you've suspected this for some time now, and simply couldn't put a finger on it till now. Do you know what I mean, Tim?"
“Well I kinda had a sense about it, but always thought it was a stupid idea,” Tim replied sheepishly.
“Well it's not,” Vigo disagreed. “All Indigos have the same feeling in one way or another.” He gestured the boy to stand beside him next to the truck. “Come a little closer, Tim; I've got something to show you."
The young boy looked at his mother. She indicated her approval and watched him join Vigo to the back of the truck.
“Tim,” Vigo said as he pulled the pins out of the rear gate and lowered it. “I've got all kinds of good things in this truck and I'll give some of them to you, whether or not you choose to accept the offer I plan on making to you this evening after dinner."
“I'm game,” the boy answered as he squinted to see what was in the dark shadows of the truck.
Vigo pulled two large cardboard cartons out of the back of the truck and onto the gate. “Leave the dog and take one these cartons. I've got a couple of large tins of beef stew and some fresh bread."
He led them to the campsite, and while the boy started the fire, Vigo emptied the canned stew into the Dutch oven and dangled it under a three-legged stand perched over the fire pit. Tim expertly built a roaring cook fire, and within ten minutes, the contents of the pot began to bubble gently.
Tossing in a dash of herbs, Vigo tasted the stew and added a few shakes of Tabasco sauce for good measure. “This canned stuff is pretty lame,” he casually noted. “That is why God invented Tabasco sauce. You know, for people such as us who are tired of eating plain food.” He took a taste and made a happy face, which caused the young girl to giggle out loud. It was the first sound Vigo had heard from her all evening, and it made him happy inside to see the child relax.
He took another taste and exclaimed, “Yup, I think it is just about ready. Say, Tim, hand me those pewter plates will you?” Vigo took a loaf of bread out of the carton, tore it into large chunks and served the three generous portions of the mildly spiced stew and fresh bread. They fell upon their plates with great hunger.
After her second serving, Helen wiped her lips and said, “Mr. Jones, we're really thankful for the meal, but if you do not mind my asking, why are you being so kind to us?"
He pretended to ignore the question as he filled a large coffeepot with water and loose tea leaves. She asked the question a second time.
He pulled the Dutch oven out of the fire pit and hung the coffeepot in its place. “In answer to your query, because it pleases me. Now, it's my turn. Why are all of you wandering around out here, when you could be in a city, safe and fed?"
“The Homers make it look like everyone is eating good, but that's bullshit if you're living in the wrong part of town,” Tim answered. “We were starving and my parents tried to loot a food store. Dad wasn't armed and he offered to give up, but the Homers shot him dead. Now they're looking for us. That's why we're wandering around like homeless nobodies."
“That was a honest answer, Tim” Vigo remarked gratefully. He already knew their background and appreciated the boy's honesty. He now felt sure that both siblings were Indigo, a gene that always came from the mother's side. What a find! Two Indigo children and a mother who was still young enough to bear more children! He could only hope that her extremely low level of body fat hadn't already caused permanent damage to her reproductive organs. Either way, they would remain together as a family and soon have the choice to accept a new life, free of fear and starvation.
“We have friends.” Vigo pointed up towards the night sky. “We've never been alone; we never will be, and we share common roots with them. Life is precious to them, and they want to help us."
“You mean UFOs and all that?” Helen said.
“That and much more,” Vigo answered. “They cannot save our entire race, as we must do that. They're ability to help is very limited and so they've chosen to quietly help those of us who represent mankind's next evolutionary step forward,” Vigo looked squarely into Helen's eyes, “and your family is one such family."
She swallowed hard. “Who are these friends, as you call them, and what do we have to do?"
Vigo took a coat hanger out of the box and straightened it. He winked at Jenny. “I think I've got a bag of marshmallows in that box yonder. Wanna toast some?"
The little girl squealed with delight. “Oh mommy, we've got marshmallow
s.” With bright, eager eyes, she fished through the box and held up a sealed bag of marshmallows.
Vigo opened the bag, took out a handful and skewered them on the coat hanger. As he held them over to fire to roast, he said “They call themselves the Friends, and if you accept our offer this evening, you will meet a wise soul by the name of JALA.TRAC in a few days. He'll look like a tall, thin Finn when you first see him. He will be your mentor and will gently teach you the way of the Godschild Covenant."
Vigo turned the wire to see that marshmallows had a nice even golden texture. He held out the toasted treats to Tim's younger sister. “Young lady, you get two. One because you're smart and the other because you're pretty.” Her face lit up with delight as she eased her reward off the wire.
“What is the Godschild Covenant?” she asked before filling her mouth with warm, perfectly toasted marshmallow.
“It is an ancient wisdom the Friends discovered centuries ago,” Vigo replied. “There are several races who are interested in seeing mankind flourish, and each helps in its own way. The Friends have come to share the home world of the Godschild with us. Even though the Godschild have long since disappeared, they did leave behind a beautiful city on a planet much like Earth with two large, magical moons. The city is in excellent condition and it has a natural gravity network and plumbing that still works."
“Like a Roman aqueduct?” Tim asked.
“Yes, but even more sophisticated. I've been there, and I was so amazed. You will be, too, if all of you accept my offer this evening."
Helen studied his eyes. Was he just telling them a campfire story to amuse them, or was he really being serious. “Mr. Jones, this is a most entertaining story."
He shook his head. “Helen, let's get two things settled right here and now. First, it is no story. Second, my name is Vigo.” Helen grew solemn.
“Tell me about the city,” Jenny blurted out.
Vigo smiled. “Glad you asked, Jenny. It is an incredible city and straddles a large white sandy beach that stretches into the horizon at both ends. It is built on a series of cliff faces that step all the way down to an immense fresh water inland sea. Nestled in the hills and cliffs above the shoreline are large, comfortable multi-family homes with large, common scenic porches that face out to sea so that you can watch the moons rise every evening. But one of the most amazing things is that there are these big stone obelisks in front of each gateway to the city. Kind of like a big, rock billboard, if you will, and, on each obelisk, the same message is inscribed. The Friends translated the message on the obelisks, and it said, ‘Welcome; we are the builders of Godschild, and we greet you. We give you this city in the hope that you will cherish and nurture it in peace.’”
“What a beautiful thought,” Helen exclaimed.
Vigo nodded and removed the medallion that hung from his neck. He handed it to her. Roughly the size of a silver dollar, the polished platinum colored disk was incredibly light, but strong. “Look at the engraving,” he said pointing to the two parallel rows of strange looking symbols inscribed on the face of the medallion. “These symbols are also engraved on every doorpost in the city and we believe it is the sum total statement of the philosophy of this ancient race. The Friends call it the Godschild Covenant. Apparently, it was an affirmation of the builders of the city about their collective and deep, personal sense of responsibility to the universal mind and it says: Live and let live; love and let love; learn and let learn."
Fascinated by the medallion, the mother and her two children examined the medallion in the flicking firelight, running their fingers along the engraved symbols.
Vigo watched them experience the medallion for the first time, as he had seen so many others do, with a deep sense of personal satisfaction and purpose. Confident they would eventually accept his offer, he skewered some more marshmallows and held them over the fire. As they began to brown he said, “Helen, I've brought fully equipped camping packs for each of you, along with some fresh clothing and good hiking shoes. These gifts are for you and your children, whether or not you accept my offer this evening. If not, I will happily leave them with you as thanks for listening to my offer, and I will never speak of you or your children to a living soul.” He held out the cooked marshmallows to Jenny. “Be careful, honey, they're hot."
Jenny lightly touched the first marshmallow, then slowly pulled the first two off the wire. “We go Godschild!” She said as took her first bite and with a mouth full of the gooey white and caramel colored treat, she began to sing, “We go Godschild! We go Godschild!"
Vigo studied her with a hint of amazement. Could it be she was more gifted than the boy was? Possibly so—yes, this family was a real find indeed.
He smiled warmly, “Helen. Tim. Jenny seems to have beaten me to the punch, as they say. You see, I'm working with the Friends to move gifted families to Godschild so that we can help humanity to evolve in a more peaceful way. Simply put, my offer is that you are all invited to live on Godschild if you so choose. Obviously, Jenny has already made her choice, but all of you have to agree."
“What is it like to live there,” Tim asked cautiously as he handed back the medallion.
“Life will not be easy, but it will be rewarding,” Vigo replied hanging it back around his neck. “You will have to live on what you grow, and the city still needs a lot of cleanup and restoration work. After all, it has been unoccupied for centuries. But, what is more important is the propagation of our species.” He looked first at Helen and then Jenny. “The greatest burden will be for the life givers and the greatest satisfaction as well. That's about all I can tell you.” He stood up and stretched. “I'll go and get those things I promised you ready. I'll be back in a while.” He pointed to the coffeepot hanging over the fire. “In the meantime, feel free to pour yourself a cup of hot tea. There's some sugar in one of the boxes as well if you like it sweet."
“Thanks, Vigo. We'll be here when you get back,” she replied.
As he walked back to his truck, she drew her children around her and looked into their eyes. “It kind of scares me, but what are our choices. Do we stay out here, drinking muddy water and eating dog? As I think of it, my thought is that your Daddy would tell us to go."
When Vigo returned, Helen smiled and poured him a steamy cup of hot tea. “One lump or two?” He held up two fingers with a smile, and she added two heaping tablespoons full of sugar to the mug.
She handed him the mug as he sat down and said, “We've decided to accept your offer. So, what happens next?"
He blew across the top of the cup and took a sip. “Just right.” He licked his lips and continued. “For starters, each of you will get a medallion like mine. With these, you will never be alone again. You will then have a long journey on foot. Along the way, you will meet other people, such as yourselves. After that, the Friends will transport all of you to Godschild. Do you care to reconsider our offer?"
Her eyes sparkled in the warm flicker of light that radiated outwards from the campfire. “We already said yes."
Vigo smiled approvingly. Reaching into one of his large, baggy pants pockets, he drew out three small boxes, handing one to each of them. “In the box is a medallion, and it bonds to the first person who physically touches it. Before you open these boxes, I want you to know that you'll feel a powerful energy surge, which will cross through your body. Do not be alarmed, and do not drop the medallion, or you will terminate the bonding process. You'll know when then the bonding process is complete, because your medallion will feel warm to the touch. After that, anyone can hold it, but it will only respond to you. Now, go ahead and begin."
They opened their boxes and took hold of their medallions. The bonding process only took a brief moment, and soon all three were holding pleasingly warm, personalized medallions in their hands. He handed them three small chains, made of the same platinum colored metal and showed them how to fit them to their medallions.
With their new medallions hanging around their necks, the three looked at
each other with genuine smiles. It had been a good and interesting first step.
“Now, let me tell you something.” Vigo began. “You can easily spend the rest of your life learning all of the things you can do with these things, so here are a couple of handy ones to get you started. First off, it automatically warms up when it detects another medallion for the first time. Second, hold it flat against your right temple, and it becomes a tactical viewer that let's you see in the dark. You can also hear better than normal, and your distance hearing will be significantly better. If you hold your fingers on it like so,” He demonstrated with his own medallion, “it will also show you the best route to follow to wherever the Friends want you to go.” He changed his finger position. “Hold it like so, and you can use it to communicate with another medallion owner. If you visualize his or her face in your mind while holding your medallion this way, their medallion will vibrate telling them you want to speak with them. If they accept your gesture, you can freely share your perceptions and thoughts without having to talk."
He leaned back and studied them as his words sunk in. Tim and his mother would most likely need to use their medallions for the remainder of their natural lives. However, he sensed that Jenny could actually outgrow her need for a medallion for the more basic functions. This possibility excited him. If she proved to be this capable and started a family, she would endow her offspring with great abilities.
“Well folks,” he announced, “You all need to get your strength for the journey and besides this spot will serve as a rally point for the other members of your group. So, we need to get you set up. I don't have much time, so while you're getting the cooking gear squared away, Tim can be helping me unload the truck. After that, I'll stay around long enough to help you pitch the tents, then I'll have to be on my way.” Helen nodded in agreement, and he patted Tim on the shoulder, “Let's go unload your things from the truck."
Godschild Covenant: Return of Nibiru Page 25