by DCS
That’s right. I’m assuming by this point you’ve done your research. You can scientifically prove the oncoming Ascension. Don’t let another doubt pass through your head. Your next task is simple, and the hardest. Ironic we’ve left the scientists to do this part, isn’t it?
Obviously I have not lost my mind. Neither have you. Give it a try. You’ve nothing to lose and you’ll find a very interesting synchronicity in the way events in your lives start to shape up. You’ve seen glimpses of it already, haven’t you?
See you at the party.
§
“What the hell is suddenly going on in the world and who is MST?” Abe asked in an incredulous tone after reading the letter from Marcello.
“It’s been going on, Abe, we’re just now noticing,” Shirley said quietly, circling around the large rectangular box that had been delivered to them. “But I don’t know who MST is either.” She looked over at Derek.
“It would take too long to explain. He’s a Terenzio though. He ranks above Robert,” Derek said as he mimicked Shirley’s motions, remaining silent, and battling himself in his head. They hadn’t stopped since they found Menes. For the last twenty-four hours they had gone through any and all research available that discussed in any scientific language the supposed oncoming Ascension and the Anunnaki. Not only had the Sumerians made references to help from outer space, but other ancient documents such as the Nag Hammadi Codices also talked of alien intrusion into human affairs.
It was all more than a little mind blowing. While Derek understood mainstream science’s urge to toss this data aside as the fantasy-filled stories of a creative people, he had to agree with Shirley. It made no sense to only take from these ancient cultures things believed to be true and ignore the rest without giving it fair scientific study. Just because it sounded fantastical didn’t mean it was impossible.
Research on the Ascension got stranger. Most of it led them down the mystical path that couldn’t really be proven; unless you started connecting dots like Shirley had shown them. David Bohm’s studies on the holographic universe provided scientific basis for discussion on reality. They had found other studies that showed how the brain did not make any distinction between what it sees as a memory and what is happening in real life. This further snowballed into evidence that the eyes could potentially see more than the brain has the capacity to understand. To Derek this was a scary thought. It meant intelligence levels, preconceived notions, beliefs, could all affect eyesight.
There had been a large study done on whether focused intent could have an effect on reality in 1999. It was predicted that over an eight week period a group meditation practice would reduce violent crime in Washington DC by twenty percent. Data taken after the period showed that violent crime was actually reduced by twenty-three percent.
And now here was the present from Marcello, accompanied by the strange letter that indicated the dying man might know a little something more than they did.
Derek pulled open the door to the machine and stared inside. There was a simple wooden chair, the inner walls made up of some sort of metallic material. It didn’t look like much of anything remarkable. “Tell me more about Wilhelm Reich?” Derek finally asked.
“Reich was a psychoanalyst and a psychiatrist,” Abe explained. “From what little I know, he was well respected for most of his life. They didn’t start calling him a quack until he began promoting the health benefits of his orgone machines.”
“There’s more to the story,” Shirley added. “Reich claimed orgone is the omnipresent energy in everything and is responsible for the weather, gravity, the big bang, etc. He also claims the orgasm is one of many examples of the release of this energy. If you block it from naturally being released it will cause illness. Things like cancer, for example.”
Derek’s brows shot up at that and he looked at Shirley, and then the accumulator. “That sounds like the scientific explanation for the seven chakras and the result of having those energy portals closed.”
“Exactly. The blockage of the charkas is what leads to different types of dis-ease, as they call it,” Shirley said. “So, Reich builds the box and puts his patients inside for its health benefits. Harper and the New Republic run articles on it, and then the FDA goes berserk and gets an injunction to stop him from selling across interstate lines. Reich tells them and the courts they have no authority to judge his work, and does it anyway. They throw him in jail, he gets two years, the FDA burns the books that he wrote about Orgone, and he dies a year later of heart failure a few days before he’s due to apply for parole.”
“Since when does the FDA start burning books? Fucking government,” Abe muttered.
“That’s a happy story.” Derek took a few steps back from the machine, folding his arms across his chest. “What the hell are we going to do with it?”
“Sit inside and meditate like Marcello suggested?” Shirley offered.
“Speaking of, anybody know what the ‘next step’ is?” Abe asked, suppressing a yawn.
Derek shook his head in answer to Abe’s question. “No clue. Maybe he wants us to activate our own chakras.”
“That makes sense. And it fits his talk of irony in regards to scientists striving for a full kundalini awakening,” Shirley said. Taking Derek’s place at the door of the machine she walked inside of it. “How in the world does this attract orgone energy?”
“I don’t think I have the brain capacity left to tackle another mystery.” Abe let his forehead drop onto the table top.
“I’ll pull up what I can find in regards to research papers on it.” Derek glanced down at his watch. They were all beat and it was late. “Why don’t you both go home, catch a few hours of real sleep? Abe please take a shower, you smell, and we’ll meet back up in the AM?”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Abe lifted his head and clambered to his feet.
Shirley stepped out of the machine, settling tired eyes on Derek. “Are you going to follow your own advice?”
Derek offered a small smile. “I don’t want to leave the area unattended, but I’m definitely going to go into my office and bond with my couch like I never have before.”
“I’ll be back around six, Derek. I might not shower though.” Abe cracked a smile at them, winked at Shirley, then walked through the automatic doors. Sleep was sounding like the best idea the universe had ever come up with.
Shirley waved at Abe as he departed then asked Derek, “This is going to get a lot stranger, isn’t it?”
Derek watched her movements, small sparks of awareness lighting up his sleep-deprived brain. “I don’t know if it can get any stranger at this point. I feel like I’ve heard it all.”
She laughed softly at that. “I keep expecting to wake up. Everything we’ve found out makes so much sense but at the same time….”
“I know. Guess this is what Neo felt like in the Matrix.” Derek grinned.
Shirley smiled warmly up at him and their gazes locked in a comfortable silence, charged with everything that wasn’t said. Finally she reached out, sliding gentle fingertips over his unshaven cheek. “Don’t stay up working. Sleep.”
He was tempted to close his eyes and nuzzle. Tempted more to reach out and pull her to him. He did neither. “I won’t. And I will.”
She dropped her hand, smiled at him again then approached the automatic doors. When they slid open she paused briefly in the entrance and called back, “Hey Derek?”
“Yeah?”
“If we do pull all this off, think you might take me out sometime? Like on, you know, a real grown-up date?”
Her words made him feel like he was suddenly blushing. For a few seconds he couldn’t find anything to say, like a blubbering wide-eyed teenager awestruck by his first crush. When it passed and he could find his voice he got out, “That’s a reality I can’t wait to create.”
She didn’t say anything else, but he caught her soft smile a moment before she left his line of sight. As promised, he went right to his off
ice and sprawled out over the mushy leather. But it sure as hell wasn’t work that occupied his mind in the moments before sleep took him.
§
June 8th, 2012
Undisclosed location
The Vault time unknown
They had drawn into their own thoughts since stepping out of the Holons. The triplets sat in the vault, a few feet behind the pyramids at a long conference table. A decanter full of bourbon was before them. Glasses were emptied, then promptly filled backed up again with the expensive liquor.
It was a lot to swallow all at once; to realize that something you didn’t even believe in might be true. The fact that the memories were in his head so clearly was chewing up at Vasco’s sense of reason. He was positive that if he started searching the shelves he could confirm every event that he’d just felt like he’d lived through a century ago. But did that really prove the existence of past lives? No, not conclusively. This had to be some sort of test, there had to be a better explanation. Something like that wouldn’t be below their grandfather; he was a Terenzio after all.
“You know…” Lucien was sprawled back in his chair, glass pressed against his temple, “…if you thought I had an ego before, I really have one now.”
Simone shook her head amusedly, despite the fact she was still shaken by the events. It was so much to process. Little things kept popping into her brain, all of them about Liliana Terenzio. It was exciting, but admittedly scary too. “I doubt that’s possible, Lucien. Besides, Vasco has an ego bigger than both of ours.”
“Rightly so. How’s it feel to be the legend?” Lucien cocked a grin over at his brother.
Vasco shook the ice in his glass, looking at the amber liquid as if it would make sense of what they had just experienced. “I’m not Stefano Terenzio,” he said finally.
Lucien arched a brow at him. “What do you mean you’re not? You’ve got a better explanation?”
Vasco flicked veiled eyes onto his brother. “There are a million, Lucien. For whatever reason we need to know about the original trio. That Holon, crystal combination must have downloaded it into our brains,” he concluded. It all sounded far fetched, but not as out there as the idea of reincarnation.
“V, I’ve got JT’s memories in my head.” Lucien stabbed a finger at his own temple. “I can feel what he felt, right down to the sweat on his balls. Sorry Simone.”
Simone didn’t offer any response yet, her thoughtful gaze trading glances with her siblings, though her eyes did roll ever so slightly at Lucien’s descriptive image.
Vasco frowned hard at the youngest. “You can’t be that egotistical, Lucien,” he said sharply. “You’d love to be JT, I don’t deny I’d love to claim the life of S.V.T. But we’re not. We just know them intimately now, like a really well written novel. We need to stop with the mystical shit and start focusing on why this is happening.”
Lucien finished off his third drink, mulling over his brother’s words before he gave comment. Finally he shook his head and reached for the bottle. “No, I think you’re wrong, V. I’m not one to believe in UFO’s or ghosts or anything outside my little circle of reality, but that was real.” He lifted his fresh glass to his lips, adding quickly, “And I don’t need to be JT. I’m already the shit, asshole.”
“Down boys,” Simone chided. “Let’s put whether or not we are actually reincarnated versions of Stef, Lil and JT on hold for the moment. Grandfather said we knew our enemy. Does that mean anything different to us now?” She slid her gaze between her brothers.
Lucien thought on the question with another swallow from his glass. Vasco set a bent elbow on the table top, resting his hand against his mouth as he contemplated. It was terribly strange to have these new memories in your mind that you could suddenly explore. Not just one, an entire lifetime’s worth.
“That letter you wrote me, JT, before you died,” Lucien suddenly said, sitting up a little straighter in his chair. “How did you find them?”
“What letter? Who do you mean by ‘them’?” Simone quickly asked. She couldn’t remember, or find anything in Lil’s memories about getting a letter from Stefano.
Vasco brows knit together, searching through the warehouse of information floating around in his mind. It was going to take some getting use too, these new memories, whatever they were. It didn’t take long before what Lucien was talking about came slamming to the forefront in a sudden moment of clarity. “Oh my god…”
Chapter 11
“We have come to be one of the worst ruled, one of the most completely controlled and dominated governments in the civilized world. No longer a government by free opinion, no longer a government by conviction and the vote of the majority, but a government by the opinion and duress of a small group of dominant men."
- Woodrow Wilson
June 6th, 1925
Château des Amerois
Muno, Belgium 1:11 AM
Marazano brought me here because he needs my help in following Don Ferro’s orders. I don’t need his help to complete those same orders. Let me remove the middle man completely and with my continued willing cooperation you’ll have a much easier time controlling your scapegoat.”
His words were akin to blasphemy, but he wasn’t dealing with the Cosa Nostra anymore. A power existed that sat higher than that. The many names all masks of the same beast. The important facts were, there wasn’t a country in the world not touched by their power and their control extended past the limits of Earths’ stratosphere to a few planets close by. The impossibility of the sight clearly in front of him proved it.
The interior of the den had the décor expected of a castle. The air reeked of furniture polish, expensive cologne and lit cigars. Two United States secret service agents stood in the corner. Since entering the privacy of the room their eyes remained a solid black. At random moments they would widen then slightly narrow into an oval shape.
Stefano Vasco Terenzio sat comfortably in the high-backed chair, a nearly empty glass in one hand, a burning cigar in the other. His harsh and often described as cruel gray eyes rested with nonchalant ease on the “man” in front of him. The impossibility of the situation was further exposed by the fact that the eyes staring back at him were reptilian-like. The white pinkish cheek, usually found on an aristocratic face, kept flickering to a dark scaly green like an uncontrolled twitch. Fifteen minutes earlier, this creature had exposed its entire self. Stefano was certain the image was meant to be intimidating, and for a moment it had been. To watch the Vice President of the United States suddenly transform into a seven-foot tall lizard thing was a little more than startling. Apparently the human form was grossly easy to manipulate. But after that initial wave of expected shock fell off, this thing was now just another new piece on his chessboard.
They were called the Anunnaki. The myths and legends of the Gods were their true tales. It was they who had chosen the thirteen human ruling families from the genetically altered slaves, whose daughters they’d whored and through whom they’d created bloodlines loyal only to them. It wasn’t that hard to believe for Stefano. To him it sounded like a good idea, if you had the capabilities to pull it off. Obviously it had been. Besides, in his opinion, the universe was too big for humans to be alone in it. And it was the height of arrogance for the retarded, easily manipulated suckers called mankind to think they could possibly be the only species that existed within it. And that they were the smartest. Yeah, right.
It was the Anunnaki, who played the ultimate chess game with humanity. The one opponent Stefano realized he couldn’t beat, yet. That meant this was the kind of challenge worth getting a hard on over. And since he’d never been afraid of making a deal with the devil….
“Oh, and one more thing,” Stefano added in a slightly bored tone. “My family, perhaps one other of my choosing, will be the last one standing in the western Cosa Nostra. You let me clean it up as I see fit. Don Ferro can claim control from afar if you wish. After the eradication of the rest of the families, feel free to
give the real credit to any law enforcement agency you want. Twisting the story into something acceptable to put in a history book is up to you.”
The Anunnaki, the Vice President, smiled coldly. “Are you really willing to play slave, just to have your way, Stefano?”
“If I’ve got the story right, as a human I’m your slave anyway. I’d prefer to have a say in the method of my servitude.” He ended the words by finishing his drink and lifting the cigar to his lips, spicing up the flavor of the alcohol on his tongue.
Silence stretched. But when the answer finally came, Stefano’s lips curled up into a smile.
§
The cigar was still between his teeth as Stefano came down the stone steps. Nina, his personal bodyguard, waited patiently at the bottom. When their eyes met, he nodded once. Malicious excitement reflected back at him.
He climbed into the car first, Marazano sitting next to him. The Sicilian’s bodyguard sat directly across from him, reading a newspaper. Nina sat next to the reader.
“Well? How did it go?” Marazano asked.
The look in his eyes was mild arrogance. The smirk on Stefano’s mouth was common. “I’m in.”
Marazano smiled warmly, kissing both his cheeks, then slapping one. “Congratulations.”
“Grazie.”
Nina shot the bodyguard first, a quick single bullet to the temple. Marazano took the second as Stefano rolled down his window, gently tapping his cigar to rid the ashes. He helped Nina kick both bodies carelessly out of the car. The Vice President wanted the corpses. Stefano hadn’t asked why, didn’t much care. He nodded to the driver as he stuck the Habana back between his lips, “Let’s go.”
§