by Ric Dawson
Yaz: We must ensure an ascendancy event is avoided.
Accompany the Shadow unit.
Merging of focus and Compassion must fail.
Azaziah: As you instruct.
# # #
Lane
I woke up on the couch, Phats sprawled over my thigh, and Monk snuggled at my feet.
“Damn. Phats. Lose some weight.” I gently pushed him off and got up. I puttered around the house then spent hours on the Internet delving into files and references to astral travel and occult devices. As evening rolled around, astral flying practice seemed a good idea. There were few leads on what to do otherwise. Maybe Diedra would be out in the astral.
I headed downstairs, settled into the computer chair, booted the brainwave disc, and went through the resonant cycle that was a prelude to astral travel. My body separated easily this time, and moments later, I passed through the ceiling.
The disc suggested making a shield against astral influences by projecting a stream of energy from my head into an oval that encircled my body.
I concentrated on projecting the shield. A wobbly transparent membrane poured from above eye level and spread down out of sight. The giant soap bubble reflected light in a silver sheen from the inner surface. The light rippled in sheets with the membrane.
Multicolored thought streamers looped around me. Their impressions were subdued and with them a distant background chatter of thoughts bubbled. When I focused on the compassion egregor, the background chatter faded, and the shield membrane grew bright.
Shadows slipped through alleys around me but no oily blobs appeared. Maybe I’d killed the Soulstealers after all.
Opening my arms, I imagined a pillow between them, then lifted and soared upward into the veiled half-light. The phantom hills fell away as my astral body climbed the sky. High above the ethereal ground, I folded my right arm in and began a roll to the right while dipping, losing altitude. I tried the same with my left arm and rolled left into a sharp dive. Giggles and shrieks of laughter echoed off silent houses. Ethereal winds pushed my hair back as my mind caught up with the exhilaration. Virtual lungs gasped for breath as a sharp turn plunged me into a high-speed drop.
The ground rose up fast. At the last minute I opened my arms wide. Too late. Microseconds from impact, I woke up with a start.
“Damn.” Then I laughed.
Inertia. When did that happen? I couldn’t stop my descent without deceleration. Amazing.
My mind refused to let go of space-time constructs in the astral.
I grabbed the portable disc player and headed up to the bedroom.
Phats sprawled at the foot of the bed with his head on a paw. He watched me as I sat down.
“I could have died.”
He opened his mouth wide in a big toothy yawn.
“So you think I wouldn’t have died? You think maybe it’s just my mind couldn’t take a crash that would kill anyone in the real world?”
His fuzzy left ear twitched.
“I read once where experiments showed you simply don’t see things that are outside the reality you construct.”
Purrrrrr.
“So you think that’s it then? I can’t see what’s there, and I wake up to avoid any mental conflict.”
Monk hopped up on the bed. He wanted to join the conversation, no doubt. He padded across the bedspread and nuzzled my hand.
“You guys are right. The urge to make psi experiences logical persists.”
I scratched Monk under the chin.
“Have I mentioned that it’s hard not to do?”
Purrrr.
Picking up the Suul’jin devices, I queued the disc player for the resonant tones and pushed into the astral. After gaining altitude, I flew low over some parked cars and dived through the front windshield of a truck. I came out the other side without a problem.
So it’s only house windows that are dangerous.
I flew up again and stopped, hovering about ten meters off the ground.
I thought at my hand with the shield.
On.
A blue glow surrounded me as the shield popped to life.
Now I have a shield and an inner membrane for protection.
Pointing the focus device at a dim light pole, I thought:
Fire…
Nothing happened.
The focus only works on Shadow-empowered critters. Got it.
Why can’t I see other people?
I concentrated and illusory muscles around my stomach tightened like I was doing crunches. The entire dusky scene shifted.
I’m moving to a different spectra.
The glows and colors of the objects around me dimmed. Wisps of people took shape inside their dim rectangular houses. They moved like blurred fireflies.
I drifted in close to a nearby house with four wavering phantoms. Their afterimages collapsed into four single images, two large and two smaller. The space around the images grew bright with colored streamers circling each person.
A colorful vortex, centered on one of the larger images, extended out to the others. The streamers were playful and danced around in slow circles. I turned the blue shield off and thinned the membrane until I could feel the warm glow of love and family. My eyes began to tear, and I snapped the shield back on.
“Fine. It’s a family, good to know.” I pushed the sudden hurt away, back where it belonged.
For a brief moment, an unbidden image of a young woman in red holding a small boy’s hand brushed old memories. I crushed the memory and focused on shifting resonance.
My stomach cramped as the entire environment morphed back to the first spectrum. Reassuring glows came once again from rocks and trees, like a moonlit painting.
Annoyed, I headed back to the house and rest.
The next morning, it was back to work. I carried two small slabs of metal with me, one in each pocket.
As always, the drive in the early morning was glorious. The brisk mountain air combined with the powerful thrum of the Caddy acted like a mental masseuse. Few motorists were on the road, and soon I pulled into the small parking lot next to our building. I half-expected to see Diedra standing there, but empty cars occupied the lot.
The day rolled out pretty much like every other Monday. We had a couple of short meetings to consolidate everyone’s work and to discuss project updates and upcoming events. Everyone was a specialist at their assigned task; start-ups don’t have a lot of room for people who can’t pull their weight. When I looked up from the monitor, time had flown, and it was lunch time.
Excited, I hurried down to the diner, hoping to find Diedra. After an hour, she was a no show. Disappointed, I headed back to the office. Strange. No one had any unusual glows about them, nor were there any foreboding or sinister vibes. The Gray People were missing from the street. On Friday there were many of them.
Who are the Gray People?
–Query … The Gray People are a melded manifestation of a soul wave and an egregor. The individual’s resonance wave, the soul wave, had a strong connection in life with the egregors of hate and desire.–
What is a soul wave?
–Query … The soul wave is the waveform that characterizes an entity. Your science has already postulated it. Your De Broglie wave.–
Are the Grays dangerous?
–Query … Yes. They are metamorphic; often horned and clawed. They can be manipulated by entities able to channel the egregors to whom they have melded. But they are difficult to control in groups.–
Why don’t I see any on the streets?
–Query … Unknown–
Wonderful.
I stopped for Mexican takeout on the way home. Then hit the sofa to ask some more questions of the devices. Phats jumped in my lap while Monk watched from across the room.
“I get it now.” I stroked Phats, who was in full purr mode.
“The astral is like a radio you tune for a specific channel.”
Phats leaned into my fingers and purred louder.
/> “Portals and OBEs allow a traveler to move into the astral. It’s akin to a spectrum or frequency shift of your mind. It’s amazing. You have to be careful with portals. Some portals are on-the-fly, random. House windows are these types of portals. The danger about house windows is you can go anywhere in the interactive realms, with no way back.”
Phats was asleep and purring softly.
“Good idea.” I stretched out slowly so as not to disturb him and fell asleep.
My eyes fluttered open and adjusted to the low light. Far above me a maelstrom of color flowed like a large river. My toes tingled and the distinct odor of sensual sweat filled the astral air. I approached the river of light high above the city. Closer. The thick river turned viscous like a cheesy soup. Lumps became arms and legs all entwined and writhing. Indistinct sounds became moans, soft exhalations, and cries of passion. Not one. Thousands. Millions. Aggression and lust surged in my being like a torrential flood.
Crimson motes coalesced into a milk-skinned woman in front of me. She gasped as if taking a breath for the first time and her violet eyes focused on me. Ebon hair tumbled over her smooth shoulders and my eyes were drawn down her glistening body. Blood thundered in my ringing ears. Musky feminine sex filled my senses as her smoldering gaze whipped my loins into strained erection.
“What do you seek from Seyu, psi child?” she said and drifted within reach. The silken words whispered in my brain.
I don’t know.
Lust ran wicked and raw through every part of my aching astral body.
She tilted her head. “I know what you want.” Her voice tasted husky sweet, like dark chocolate.
An image of a room with a woman appeared in my mind unbidden. Bruised and beaten, she held a young boy’s hand. On the floor, a muscled man rose slowly, blood pouring from a wound in his chest. The woman turned and fled through a door, dragging the boy behind her. A bloody knife clattered to the floor. As she ran, her clothes melted, leaving milky white skin. My pulse quickened. We were in a different room. Mom? Choked fear followed desire and mixed with revulsion at my turbulent emotions.
STOP!
My vision cleared and Seyu’s smirk chilled me to the bone.
“Seyu always knows.”
The seductive violet gaze made me feel unclean, violated, and helpless to stop her.
A slender finger traced a pattern on my chest. Warmth and desire bloomed from her light touch, building feverish sexual urges to irresistible lust.
Something sharp irritated my nose and I wanted to scratch it. The distraction cleared the fog from my drugged consciousness.
Shield! Nothing.
Dammit. The shield rested on my bed stand.
Willpower strengthened resolve and I focused on building the protective membrane and dove earthward, snapping the crimson cords that wrapped my astral form. I hadn’t noticed them before.
“I know you now, psi child. I will always be with you.” Her haughty laughter faded as my house appeared below.
I sat upright in bed. Phats looked at me, his eyes round black orbs. Monk’s fur tickled my chin as he leaned on my face. He gently bit my nose.
“Oww,” I croaked, my throat dry.
Neither one moved. They both sat sphinx-like, watching.
“I’m okay, boys. You guys know what just happened?”
Phats got up and walked over, butting my hand. Monk meowed in his soft voice and licked my chin. I scratched them both.
Flopping down, they began licking paws in earnest.
“Thanks fellas, for clearing that up,” I said while massaging my tender nose.
# # #
Bloody Heritorac Command - Zurich: Meeting between BH General Director Vande Sturm and Wraith Major General Boric Merzopov
Boric strode confidently into the plush office. He glanced out the mirror-glass windows to the distant shores of a crystal blue lake. Nearby buildings reflected a broken image of a silvered high rise of glass and steel. Colorful medals on his breast jingled as he snapped a show of respect.
“Welcome, Major General. I hope your trip was uneventful?” Director Sturm said as she walked around her desk and extended a hand.
Boris waited at attention.
“There is no need for formalities today, Major General. You may be at ease. Please, let us sit and you can tell me of your progress.” She indicated a comfortable black leather sofa and a small table.
The Major General took her hand and bowed slightly. “It’s always a pleasure, Madam Director.” He followed her to the sofa.
“So, how is Operation Sun Dust going?” she asked.
“We are ahead of schedule. The first solar shot is two days away.” He knew she had read all the reports. “I assume I’m not here for updates,” he grumbled.
“That is correct, Major General. I will get to the point. There has been an incident in the United States. Ready a Shadow Team for a removal operation in Colorado. You will receive the details shortly. I want your best team, General. Send Colonel Li personally.”
The Major General bristled. “Luck is not the same thing as competence, Madam Director. Colonel Li is not our best man. Captain Povolovic has more kills.”
“General. I’m not in the habit of arguing with staff. You will send Colonel Li as I direct. If you feel otherwise, you may leave now.” Her voice was soft.
Boris sat still. Rigid. He knew he would never make it to the door.
“Of course, it is my pleasure to do as the General Director asks. I did not mean to presume,” he said.
“I did not ask, Major General. You may go,” she said as she stood up from the couch.
As the Major General reached the door, she said, “And General, a Kaa’zak will meet the team at the target.”
Boris, jaws clenched, turned and bowed. “Yes General Director, as you instruct.” He shut the door behind him.
“A damn Kaa’zak.” Boris spit. “That controlling bitch brought me here to shove that and Colonel Li down my throat.” He fumed. “Damn her.”
# # #
Lane
The Cobra pose warmed my back as compressed ligaments stretched laced muscles along my spine. I released the pose and lowered my torso to the floor while letting my breath ease out. My mind drifted in serenity and pushed away the night ghosts that lingered from dream-spawned memory.
Final bits of tension calmed behind my relaxed eyelids. In my mind, a visual of the astral shield flowed out of the top of my head. I breathed in and lifted into the Cobra again while holding the golden cream image of the compassion egregor in my mind. The soft auroral motes surrounding him cleansed my spirit like gentle rains and washed away stress. Released. And again.
My mind floated on quicksand, and everything around me screamed lethal.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow … you are with me.
Is that literal? Did ancients know of the Kaa’zak, Soulstealers, and the Shadow Primals? Do they walk among us?
Yoga kept me from running to the nearest therapist, even though I knew from past experience they could not help me. Drugs, shocks, and therapy made old feelings of loss and sadness worse. Hate worked; a two-edged blade where anger consumed me as easily as satisfaction. In the end, only calm and wisdom kept horror at bay, and determination to stay sane provided ample motivation.
You’re sane. There’s a joke.
I smiled. The humor kept me grounded. Life. It’s all about choice, right? No. Not really. You have to be willing to suffer until desire is beat out of you. Well, I chose action and I’ll decide when it’s enough. I squared my shoulders with conviction and the adrenaline rush.
Monk and Phats sprawled on the couch.
“Maybe I’m a soldier of compassion after all?”
They both seemed more interested in a moth on the curtains.
“Thanks,” I said with a smirk. I could count on the cats to keep my priorities straight.
After a quick shower, I put on jeans and a blue pullover that completed morning prep. It was T
uesday. The exercise worked, and everyone’s thoughts were faint echoes when I got to the office.
At lunch, no strange glows or gray people were on the streets, and my mind enjoyed quiet for the first time in days.
Diedra never showed up, and I worried over what the Soulstealers said. Was she in danger from the Jal?
The Soulstealers lied. How could they know me?
Who the hell is Lej’jin?
–Unknown–
Who are the Jal?
–Restricted–
Damn.
Work flew by and soon Woodland Park disappeared over a hill behind me. The Caddy thrummed down the mountains and dropped into the gorge. Tingles ran up my spine.
Something wasn’t right. The powerful impulse caused me to turn the wheel to the right and exit the highway at Manitou Springs. The small touristy city soon appeared, and I slowed to merge with the late afternoon traffic.
Okay, what am I doing here?
The sensation of surety and need persisted, yet nothing on why. Over the years, I’d learned to follow my impulses. I liked to think of them as psychic guides. When I didn’t, something unpleasant usually happened.
Once in Dallas a powerful urge to turn into the driveway of a darkened mansion was so intense and sudden that I obeyed. My girlfriend freaked and wanted to leave. The next day they found three teens murdered with their bloody, severed heads stacked in a rowboat on the lake behind the mansion. I could have saved them, maybe, or would I have died? I couldn’t help but wonder, why do people murder? Is there more to it than psychosis? A few days ago, I would have said demons aren’t real. Not anymore.
Heavily timbered foothills rose on the right and formed the base of Pike’s Peak. The road followed a spring-fed creek. Historic buildings with weathered pine planking lined the roadway. Even over the engine’s noise, I could hear the bubbling creek as it swept over tumbled rocks. The town’s Old West motif featured souvenir shops along the main drag that depicted the life and times of the pioneer days. The foothills concealed old abandoned mine shafts and caves from the Colorado gold rush.
Local rumors persisted about witches, druids, and evil rituals in those dark caverns. My eyes scanned the street and my muscles tensed. The suspense quickened my pulse.