by Brandt Legg
There are no original ideas. Everything has happened before; it will continue to repeat until we, every last one of us, find enlightenment. The betrayals of Amparo, incarnations as Clastier, Dad at Chichen Itza in 1904, and hundreds of other lifetimes . . . each of us play every role, see each emotion, understand all the intricacies and nothing at all. Each life left many great lessons. They were what I would teach and how I could lead people to the soul powers.
But even more important, they showed me the door to enlightenment. My hands pulsed with energy at the realization that I had discovered the key to that door – that every life we have ever lived, ever will live, and all the simultaneous lives we are experiencing in the present, are always here – a cosmic imprint on the fabric of our soul. It’s all one life, and because time is a very different thing than we’ve been led to believe, that one life, the one of our soul, has no beginning or ending, and we may visit any part of it at any moment.
“Nate is only the face I’m wearing for a brief time. It is not who I am,” I whispered to Linh, even though she couldn’t hear. “I am everything you are.”
22
For days, I journeyed back through Outviews searching for Dunaway. He was untraceable but it was all worth it when, at an antiwar rally in New York during August 1914, I spotted Amber and Yangchen. Instead of being incarnated as someone else as part of the Outview, they were their current selves. I was a thirty-two year old police officer with full memory. I worked my way through the crowd of more than a thousand and told Amber if she didn’t return to her own time she would be arrested.
“How did you find us, Nate?” she asked.
Yangchen looked over. “He’s smarter than he looks, Amber, but it did take him longer than I thought.”
“How did you both get here?”
Amber looked at Yangchen and then back at me.
“Calyndra,” I said. “I should have guessed. But why?”
“It takes time to change things. We’ve been here a year and will stay several more trying to stop the war,” Yangchen said.
“But you’ve only been gone a few weeks.”
“Time’s a funny thing, isn’t it, Nate? Even so, you could not be away from the Movement that long.”
“Amber, do you really think being here is more important than what’s going on in our lifetime?”
“You two should take a walk. I’m speaking next. I’ll be here when you get back,” Yangchen said and shooed us away.
We strolled down a side street. “Why did you leave?”
“I’m trying to make a difference.”
“Yangchen can do this if she wants but I need your help where we have a chance for real change.”
“Stopping World War I would be a real change that could change everything you’re trying to change before it even happens.”
“It won’t work. Come back with me.”
“You need time to be with Linh.”
“What? Is that what this is about? You’re jealous?”
“I am not jealous but of course this is what this is about. You and Linh belong together and it doesn’t matter what I want.”
“Does it matter what I want?”
Amber smiled. “No.”
“Well, I think it does.”
“Then tell me, Nate, what do you want?”
I stuttered. “I . . ., Amber . . ., I . . .”
“I know you do.” She kissed me. “You’re kind of cute, for a cop.”
“I love you,” I whispered.
“I love you, too, but it doesn’t matter.”
“What? No. Hell, yes, it matters!”
“You know destiny is a powerful thing.”
“Yeah, we’re powerful, too.” I pulled her into an abandoned doorway. “And what’s more powerful, love or destiny?”
“Sometimes, love and destiny can’t be separated and sometimes they can’t be joined.”
“Watch me.”
“Nate, the universe is infinite. We’ll be together again. We’ve been together before. In a dimension somewhere we’re together right now. We get so much . . . but we don’t always get it all.”
“Come back, Amber, please.”
“I’ll be back soon, we still have things to do here.”
“Don’t you realize nothing will change? The Espionage Act of 1917 and the Sedition Act of 1918 will still pass giving the U.S. government the right to shut down newspapers and imprison people with antiwar beliefs. Eugene Debs will still be arrested while giving a peace speech and he’ll be sentenced to ten years in prison and nine million people are going to die in this war.”
“No,” she stared angrily. “Things can change!” Amber turned away and walked back to the demonstration. I hesitated a moment and was caught on the opposite side of the street as fifteen hundred women, all dressed in black, marched down Fifth Avenue in complete silence. No bands played, no signs or banners, they carried only the peace flag. Crowds of onlookers watched in silent, sympathetic approval. It was a powerful demonstration.
That evening Yangchen, Amber and I met in the lobby of the Biltmore Hotel. They had attended a series of meetings, talks, then a banquet and were tired. We headed up to their suite.
“Nate, what if I told you that us spending a few years here might stop the war?” Yangchen asked. “And even if we fail, we may save millions of lives. How do you know that the war you studied in school wasn’t changed by our actions here? Maybe WWI originally lasted three more years resulting in fifteen million deaths. Maybe there was a world war one and a half that killed millions more. Amber and I are working with the advantage of knowing the future and knowing ways to change it.”
“Okay, I’ll grant you that. Maybe you will save millions of lives but I have a different mission in my time, in Amber’s time and this has nothing to do with that.”
“It has everything to do with that. Everything is connected.”
“Do you really need Amber? Can’t you do this alone?”
“That’s not up to me.”
“Nate,” Amber began, “go home, I’ll be there sooner than you think. Don’t get too caught up in the various definitions of time.”
“Time? I’m still trying to understand the definition of home.”
“You’ll be okay,” Yangchen said.
“If the time doesn’t matter, then why don’t I stay and help you, and we’ll all go back together,” I said.
“Don’t be silly, Nate,” Yangchen began. “You have much to do, the Jadeo is in dangerous hands, the missing Clastier papers are needed, the Movement is in turmoil, mystics are in prison, should I go on? The list is long . . . and someone has to keep an eye on Spencer Copeland.”
“You make it sound so appealing, how can I resist?” I flashed a defeated smile. “Will you give us a minute?”
Yangchen bowed slightly and walked into one of the bedrooms, closing the door behind her.
“Amber, I’m sorry for earlier.”
“Me too, and if you promise not to ask me to come back with you again, I’ll tell you a secret.”
“Okay.”
“Every moment away from you feels like a punishment, like I can hardly breathe.” Our eyes locked. “If you were in Nate’s body instead of the cute cop’s, I’d attack you now.”
“Tell me where Calyndra is and I’ll be back in a flash.”
She laughed. “No way, you’ve been away too long already. Stop letting me distract you.” She cocked her head and stared at me. “Nate, your life isn’t your own. Sometimes I worry that you think just because all this is happening to you it isn’t important. It’s everything.” Her hand reached for mine. “But know this, if I could have anything I wanted, it would be for you and me to live a quiet life on some tropical island doing spiritual readings for tourists.”
We kissed and held each other until we were both trembling with tears.
“You have to go,” she whispered between sighs.
“I don’t want to.”
“I don’t want you to.” B
ut before I could savor her words, Yangchen barged into the room.
“Nate, there’s trouble in the future. Clastier’s been taken. You must leave this instant.”
A last desperate look at Amber.
“Go!” she shouted.
23
Spencer waited on the deck at the lake house. Clastier had been on his way to meet me there when Omnia agents discovered him in California. We could communicate with him on the astral but were unable to get his exact location.
“Why the hell can’t we find him when Omnia managed to?” I blasted as soon as Spencer finished updating me.
“We’re working on it but Omnia has developed a way to find your past incarnations and has begun rounding them up through Outviews. Imagine their surprise when they got one in the present.”
“Are they going to get Hibbs?”
“Eventually, it’s likely. The good news is that apparently it’s a tedious, time-consuming process. We’ve got Yangchen and Tesa working on understanding exactly how they’re doing it.”
“I just left Yangchen.”
“Yes, I know, but she has a way of multitasking.”
“Multitasking.”
“Yangchen is better at bi-location than anyone other than perhaps the Dark Mystic.”
“She can bi-locate across time and dimension, can’t she?”
“Yes, she’s a remarkable mystic.”
“If they can find all my incarnations, what about the current ones?”
“We don’t think they are able to use their method on incarnations that are still not completed. You’d have to be dead for them to find you.”
“How comforting,” I said, sarcastically.
“We believe Omnia has discovered how to indentify a soul’s code - its DNA, if you will. Each soul is, of course, unique, and it has long been thought, among mystics, that a soul carries a marker that once unlocked could reveal every life ever lived by that soul. There may even be a way to detect all the current and future lives as well. Imagine Omnia with information like that.”
“I’d rather not. How are they making these breakthroughs?”
“Omnia has their own mystics.”
“Yeah, but how are the mystics being convinced to work for such an evil organization?”
“That’s the power of Omnia’s leader. He and his top lieutenants are masters at manipulation and propaganda.”
“I’m having real doubts that we can win this.”
“I know you are. But that’s a waste of your energy. Here’s a lesson for you that’s as great as any soul power. Instead of using all your energy and brainpower for worrying, use it to solve the problem and you’ll find anything can be overcome.”
Linh joined us on the deck. “Oh, nice to see you back in the present.”
“Sorry,” I said, as if she knew where I’d been.
“Did you find Dunaway?”
“No.”
“Anything else interesting?”
“Nate,” Spencer interrupted, “you should stay out of Outviews for a while. It’s too dangerous. Not only are you left in a vulnerable trance in the present but even more troublesome is that Omnia’s agents could pick you up anywhere in the past. We have no idea how many people they now have in how many lives.” We told Linh about Omnia’s latest advantage.
“You’re not thinking of going after him?” Linh asked.
“Clastier is not an ordinary prisoner. He has forward-memory of my lives. If they figure out a way to read him, it’s over,” I said.
“Then get Rose and Yangchen to send him back. They brought him here, way too soon in my opinion, and they need to fix it.”
“They can’t do that without getting him to the right portal,” Spencer said. “We have to get him quickly.”
“Send someone else,” Linh said.
“I’m sorry, but as soon as we find where they have him, we’re going to have to go,” Spencer said.
Linh looked at me. I nodded. “Oh,” she huffed and ran off.
“Go ahead.” Spencer waved me off. “I’ll call you when we get word.”
I caught up to Linh in the lavender labyrinth. “Wait.”
She turned, glaring, crying. “Why do you want to die? There must be someone else who can go?”
“Linh, it’s Clastier.”
“I know.”
“He’s me. His writings are critical to the Movement.”
“I know.”
“If I don’t go, they’ll use him to get me. No one has a better chance to rescue him.”
“I know.”
“Then what?”
“I’m afraid of losing you.” She pulled me into a ragged embrace. “I love you.”
“I know . . . I love you too.”
“Nate, Nate,” Spencer yelled from the deck. “Come now! We know where they’re holding Clastier.”
24
Before I reached the deck, the swirl of an Outview swept through. I tried to resist but it had me. The last thing I remember was falling face first into the grass as I slipped painfully into an Outview, bound by claustrophobic spirally mist until the lifetime fully enveloped me.
My life as a farmer in Afghanistan during the early 13th century had been difficult but not desperate, until Omnia’s men showed up among invading Mongols. The entire village along with my farm and anything else of value for hundreds of miles was ravaged or burning. The only escape route forced me along a cliff high above a deep, wild river. Screams echoed off the canyon walls as I ran. A small party of men on horseback were raping and killing stragglers. Suddenly, less than fifty feet away, I saw a neighbor thrown over the cliff. I was helpless as he flailed. I couldn’t hear him land above the Mongols’ raucous laughter. It brought back a memory of the lifetime when I secretly carried the Jadeo as the Conquistadors taunted, gutted, then tossed me off a cliff. Throughout the history of our species there always seemed to be men who enjoyed killing. Were these agents working with Full-Memory or was Omnia able to twist some soul power in order to manipulate them?
Only a cluster of boulders shielded me as three men dismounted.
“Root out the vermin,” one still on horseback shouted. From my hiding place, I counted three still in their saddles. One was scanning the area frantically. His face was visible and I recognized his soul immediately. As soon as the shock passed, complete certainty flooded my consciousness: there would be no mercy. It shouldn’t have been surprising that Sanford Fitts was among Genghis Khan’s raiders. He could finish what he started in San Francisco. Fitts would finally kill me. What would it mean for the Movement, the future? Would Nate ever exist at all? I went dizzy with the possibilities. Then I heard his scream.
“Nate!” Fitts was staring right at me. He and another mounted Mongol charged. Their curved swords raised at their sides. I involuntarily closed my eyes, ready to die. But the next screams I heard were not my own. Had there been other peasants hiding nearby? My eyes flew open. Fitts and his companion had killed the other four Mongols. In my confusion I tried to scurry over a boulder but fell back, scraping my leg.
“Nate, I’m not here to harm you,” Fitts said.
“What?” I waited for his bloodied blade to come down on me.
“I’ve come to save you.”
“I don’t believe you.” I looked for a rock.
“Nate, I would have killed you by now. Did you not just see me murder four of my own men? Don’t be foolish, there’s not much time.”
“You have full memory?”
“Yes.”
“But your life as Fitts?”
“Sadly, I will not have my memory in that life.”
Making eye contact with the other soldier, I realized that one was Amber and gasped.
“My friend there doesn’t have Full-Memory therefore has no idea about his future life as Amber,” Fitts said, realizing my recognition.
“But he’s helping you help me. Why?”
“The web of our lifetimes and the resulting karma is such an extraordinary thing that t
he word extraordinary should be reserved exclusively for the description of it.”
We didn’t see the arrow until it pierced the other soldier’s/Amber’s neck. Fitts spun and shot, killing the archer, who must have thought he was saving me.
“Come, we must go, now,” Fitts shouted, impatiently.
I ran to the fallen body of the man who had been Amber, desperately searching for a trace of her soul.
“Nate, he was not Amber. She is alive and well in your future life. We’re not concerned with that incarnation at the moment. If we don’t get you out of here, your life as Nate will not occur,” Fitts said.
I was lost. The personality of my Afghan incarnation was confused. The clarity of my soul to influence his life was fading.
“Do you understand?” Fitts asked. He must have known he was losing me. Quickly, he tied my wrists and lifted me onto Amber’s horse. We rode in silence for hours, my saddle tethered to his. When we made camp for the night, he untied me and calmly explained that his soul was coming from a future incarnation years beyond that of Fitts or Ren and, through a technique I taught him in that future life, he was able to enter his Mongol life and act to change it. “Remember,” he said, while moving rock slabs to conceal our fire, “time is not from beginning to end, it is all now. Everything that has ever happened or ever will is contained in a single instant.”
“It’s hard to comprehend,” I said.
“You taught me that.”
The next morning we set out before dawn and rode deep into the night. That rigorous routine continued for five long days until the sea came into sight. Along the way he had tried to teach me various soul powers but the Afghan-me couldn’t do any of them. We talked about many of our future lives together. I hoped his version of the future was the one that actually would happened, many things could go wrong between now and then. There were secrets to keep, mystics to find and people to help.
“You’ll be safe here,” he said. “Get work as a fisherman, practice your soul powers, you’ll be fine.”