by Bob Frank
For the rest of the day, Pema continued to review details of the manufactured story. She explained every document that had been crafted to build the plausible cover story.
Pema summarized at the end of the day. “All of the documentation is complete and accurate. Please stick to the story. Someday, perhaps to respond to publicity, you may have to actually go to the caves at the family compound in Nepal, and 60 Minutes or some other TV program would be happy to join you for the story. If you go there, you will be treated as if you are family.”
Clay finally loosened up and smiled. “Pema, you ought to be in Hollywood; you’re too creative.”
Pema smiled and nodded. “Now, what is your story for how you found out about these treasures?”
Clay said, “We should tell the truth about the regressions, I guess.”
Shali’s eyes got big and her head swung quickly toward Pema, as if anticipating a sharp, adverse response.
“My dear Clay, people will not believe you,” Pema said. “They will think you are crazy. You will have more difficulty convincing people that you are not insane than you will have convincing them our treasures contain the truth about our world. They will say that you talk to ghosts who told you about ancient secrets of the universe. Then you would have two mountains to climb at the same time. Climbing one will be very difficult; might two not be impossible?”
Clay thought about what she said for a moment. “Yes, I hear you. Alright, we’ll stay away from regressions and work on making up a story.”
“But you don’t know what the truth is, yet,” Pema said, narrowing her eyes as she played devil’s advocate. “What if the truth is something that you don’t understand — or worse, something you don’t believe? What if you believe it is all just a myth or a lie?”
Dead silence. No words were necessary. They all knew Clay had to come up with an answer to that question.
“Later, Pema,” Clay said. “Shali and I need to talk more about that, first. I’ve been so busy pursuing the writings that I haven’t really thought about it. On the other hand, I didn’t really expect to end up a custodian for a hundred seventy-eight giant caskets with thousands of secret writings. I never expected to be on a cargo plane escaping hostile Chinese territory either. And we can’t even tell anyone about it, or some group of crazies might try to stop us from bringing the secrets to the world.”
Pema and Yongten chuckled at Clay’s expense. Then Pema said, “We know the burden is heavy. We are here to help you.”
“I guess I should have played less solitaire in Tsipri and thought about this more. But on the other hand, you never told us everything while we were there.”
Pema looked at Yongten and smiled before turning back to Clay. “Had we told you all of this in Tsipri, would you have agreed to your new responsibilities?”
“Hell no. No way.”
The room fell dead in silence. Pema’s smile grew ear to ear and she slowly nodded her head, “My friend, destiny was set thousands of years ago. You cannot change destiny.”
* * * ~~~ * * *
After a good night’s rest, they started again the next day. Clay kicked off the morning discussion. “So, after we connected, why did you rush to get the writings out of Tibet so quickly? Why not try to digitize the writings there first?”
Yongten responded, “It was becoming too dangerous. Somebody knew you were there and they knew what you were looking for. The moment the Chinese would have found out about the writings, all of Tibet would have been locked down. The Chinese would have had a lot more than a rogue MIG on your plane’s tail last week; and they wouldn’t have stopped at the border.”
Shali asked, “The cover story involves private caves in Nepal. Why didn’t you just take the writings there at some time in the past?”
Pema answered, “If the current regime in Nepal found out about the writings, they would have proclaimed the documents a national treasure and confiscated it all. Everything would have been destroyed, whether by neglect, improper handling or lack of security. One of our adversaries would have ensured destruction. The Tibetan caves were more isolated than those in Nepal, so it was decided to leave the writings there.”
“So your only alternative was to get it all to the U.S.?”
“Or some other safe place. The prophecy said you would come, and you did, so it was best to put trust in following you. Your country is safe and ensures rights to personal property. It was felt you would take proper care and work hard to bring the truth to the people. This was the prophecy.”
Clay leaned forward and, in anxious tone, asked, “What about the prophecy? Who, how, where, when? What was in the prophecy that we don’t already know about?”
Yongten looked intensely at Pema and then glanced at Shali before answering. “Dear Mr. Barton, you will learn the details of the prophecy in due time. Your three new colleagues are fully aware of the details. The prophecy is in the writings, and your team can translate it in due course. Until the time you can read it yourself, our Tibetan friends will brief you on what you need to know. Please understand, though, as with any prophecy, sometimes it is cryptic; we do not exactly know what is described until after an event has occurred.”
“So — you’re still not going to tell us.” Clay smiled. “Let’s have a cup of tea and then please tell us, Mr. Yongten and my dear Pema, what you do for our world? You know, your occupation?”
“I am a businessman,” Yongten said. “Import and export, you might say.”
Pema added, “And I work for Mr. Yongten. I arrange import and export of products. I simply expedite processes to make the business work smoother.”
Clay asked, “And so what is your interest in these writings? Is your interest personal or has someone or some other group hired you to do this?”
There was a quiet pause with no response, so Clay clarified. “What I really mean to ask is, who else is behind this? What is the organization involved in protecting these writings? Who were all those people at the first Drukpa monastery who questioned us? Is this some secret organization like the Knights Templar, Opus Dei, the Illuminati or the Freemasons?”
Yongten grinned and chuckled. “Your mind is telling you that this is an adventure and spy movie with secret clubs.”
Clay smiled back. “No, no. I really just want to know who is pulling the strings behind the scenes.”
“Let us say that these are people who are very interested in protecting and revealing the knowledge of our treasures and ensuring the prophecy is fulfilled.”
Clay blasted away again: “But are you organized just for this purpose or for other reasons, like a brotherhood? Are you an organization just to protect this knowledge, or are you part of a larger entity? Are others trying to destroy you, like you say they are trying to destroy the treasures? Are you all in Nepal, China, India, Rio de Janero, or elsewhere? How do you know who knows what and who you can trust?”
Yongten smiled and replied in a quiet, slow tone, “The organization is very old, as old as the writings. We are very private but widespread. It is not a fan club or hobby group. No one joins; no one leaves. Believe it or not, you are now part of this organization. When you learn and know the truth, you will truly become one with us, and then you will understand why we are the way we are.”
Clay asked, “When do I get to find out more about the organization?”
Yongten smiled again. “In due time. Think of it as a movie with you as one of the stars. Simply follow the script and do not try to be the director or the producer; play your part, at least for now. A good movie requires a lot of players, all doing their individual part. You will learn more over time, but right now it is important for you to focus on your challenges.”
Pema smiled and added to Yongten’s analogy, “Clay, as the Wizard of Oz said to Dorothy, do not look behind the curtain. You will learn soon enough. So, now let’s talk about how you plan to explain your regressions to the public.”
Clay raised his hand. “Wait. First, what about the cost
for all of this? Where does the money come from and what do the people who are funding this expect in return?”
With a hint of annoyance in his voice, Yongten said, “Let me ask you a question: Who gave the money to you to find our treasures in Tibet? What you have done so far has certainly not been cheap. Did your funders expect a return on that investment?”
Clay paused, took a deep breath, looked across to Shali and exhaled through his lips with a fluttering sound. Looking back, he responded, “I used my personal funds. I did not expect a financial return; I only wanted to find the truth of these hidden secrets and bring it out for the benefit of our society, and yet we don’t even know what this knowledge is yet.” The four of them sat quietly for several seconds, looking at each other in silent understanding.
“Well, you’ve got me again,” Clay said. “So I guess I already understand more about the motivation of this organization.”
Smiling, Yongten replied, “My new good friend, if one can see the big picture, money has no value; truth is the highest return. But let’s get back to work. Unfortunately, I will be leaving in a few days to tend to business. Pema will stay longer to help you. We have a lot of planning to do before I leave.”
* * * ~~~ * * *
A few days later, Yongten left for Asia. Clay, Shali and Pema spent the next several days meeting in the workroom, debating about the organizations with which they wished to align.
“Ladies, you know the position. Our sponsor must be a large philanthropic or academic organization. No government, religious, philosophical, social or cultural society should be trusted with any significant, direct involvement in the effort.”
Shali said, “We all agree, Clay. The potential for misdirected or special interest influence is too great. Any influence by Christian, Jewish, Islamic or any other Abrahamic-derived religious sects may make it impossible to bring out the truth. The Christian and Jewish domination of U.S. and European governments means we should have no affiliation with or financial dependence on government funding or support sources. There’s no need to even mention the Middle-Eastern or Asian governments.”
“Yongten and I agree about the governments,” Pema said. “Since there is a historical hang-up on freedom of speech in the U.S., we should be safe from government interference here, as long as we are not directly affiliated with them. If you base your operation in a fairly liberal American university, you will have access to skills, knowledge and academics to bring out and present the hidden truth in the words.”
“Shali and I began the culling process when we were in Tibet,” Clay said. “The reason we wanted to base in Washington, D.C., is because we narrowed the decision to a few universities and they are in this area of the U.S. Our preferred sponsor is Georgetown University here in Washington. In my discussions with them, I piqued their interest, but we still have a lot of sales work to do.”
Shali added. “Georgetown University has a broad environment balanced in religious, philosophical, foreign language and psychological programs. I agree this would probably be a good choice. But this is a huge obligation they would have to take on. They are going to want to see that it will be successful and that we are not chasing some phantom.”
An intense look came over Clay’s face. “Our success is dependent on whether the truths are believable and verifiable. Shali and I still don’t even know what the secrets are yet. How can we tell the world that we know these secrets are real, and not — as you said — because we talked to ghosts?” Clay smiled at his own joke.
Shali piped in, “I agree, but I am convinced this will take many years of translations, interpretations and debates, so we need a sponsoring organization who will stick with this through years of ups and downs. How do we know Georgetown will stay the course?”
A coy look came over Pema’s face. “Perhaps I can help with that. I have already had contact with associates at the university. We have an appointment with the chancellor tomorrow morning, and the Board of Trustees will hear our proposal next week. They have tentatively agreed to provide us with facilities and access to faculty and graduate programs for support. If we convince them to be the sponsor, we could have working agreements signed within two weeks.”
A deafening silence fell over the work room. Clay and Shali looked at each other, stunned.
“The learning and knowledge that we have, is, at the most, but little compared with that of which we are ignorant.”
Plato
Chapter 23
Georgetown University, Washington DC
Within just a few weeks, the agreements were signed. In the terms, with support and backing of anonymous donors, Georgetown agreed to pay all capital and operating expenses for the endeavor for the next five years, including a substantive stipend for Shali and Clay’s time and effort. Within a week of signing the agreements, Georgetown University provided them with a large workroom in the philosophical studies department.
On the first day in their new workroom, Clay commented, “It’s a bit musty, and the decor is dated. Quite typical for an old university.”
Shali replied, “But the dehumidifiers have helped considerably already. We just need to get some climate control in here. Either way, this is certainly better than working out of a cave in Tibet.”
Clay nodded, “Agree. But the storage vault downstairs is really going to need work, particularly from a security standpoint.”
Pema added, “Humidity and temperature control systems are to be installed in the vault to ensure long-term preservation of the scrolls and books. This must be completed before we move the writings down from Copper Canyon, but they still have to do more plumbing and drainage work. They are already starting work on new vault doors and security systems.” She reached over the table and grabbed Clay’s forearm. “Clay, you and I have intensely debated the pros and cons of where and when to perform the digitization of the writings. Now is the time to settle this. I believe it is critical to get all the writings digitized as soon as possible before we move them down from Copper Canyon. If anything happens to the writings before the content is digitally captured on computer, the information will be lost forever. Our three custodians would be the only source of knowledge, but there is no way they could remember everything written by the Ancients.”
Clay looked at Pema. “I understand, but I think it will be much better to move the writings down here to D.C. first. Let’s get it set up here so we can have it all done quicker and safer. We will have more and better resources to work with. We could use specialty companies and even grad students to get it done quickly.”
“We have to be realistic,” Pema responded tartly. “It could easily take four to six months to digitize all of the writings, even with skilled professionals working on it. There is a lot of work to do if it is to be done correctly the first time. As the writings are digitized, we could move them down here in batches.”
Shali interjected, “Pema’s got a point. The documents are too fragile and delicate to do it fast or to scan them over and over. We only want to digitize each page once and then capture the image in several different media formats, just in case. It could easily take six months to do this.”
Pema added, “And the longer it takes, the longer the writings are exposed and at risk of being damaged or destroyed. I still suggest we digitize them in New York. Copper Canyon can do all the digitization for us. They can then encrypt it, archive it — the whole bit. We can delay the fanfare and events until after we have it all captured digitally.”
“That’s not possible or practical,” Clay responded. “There are just too much logistics to be able to scan it at Copper Canyon. Politically, we have to do it at the university with their teams.”
Pema continued her plea: “Then we could get a work space in Livingston or some other town near the cave and have our university teams do it there. We could take out a few cases at a time; digitize the documents, and then take those back for more cases. It is just too much risk to move them all here first.”
“But Pema, we are not in Chinese-dominated Tibet now. We are in one of the largest metropolitan areas of the U.S. Terrorist activity has been in check for several years, and a modest amount of security should be enough to protect the writings.”
Shali remained a bystander, quietly watching the ping-pong debate between her colleagues.
Pema’s expression showed her anxiety, but her tone of voice dropped to conciliation, “Sorry, Clay. Perhaps I am challenging my past lack of action. I should have smuggled some computers, cameras and scanners into Tibet. The custodians could have easily learned how to use this simple technology to digitize the writings. I could even have smuggled in a few specialists to do the work. The digitization could have been completed already. Then the physical documents would simply be a formality and would pose no risk them.”
Recognizing her sense of guilt, Clay countered her argument. “But doing that would have exposed the writings to discovery by the Chinese. If they had found the writings, there would be nothing left to show. No, you were right; it was not worth the risk after these thousands of years.”
Shali finally added to the debate: “But the writings are in America now. We’re going to get this done, Pema. We should be fine with doing the work down here, as long as we take extra precautions.”
Pema looked up from the table, conceding. “Alright, I’ll get off of the soap box. We’ll do the digitizing in Georgetown after relocation from the caves in New York. We’ll work out the timing and details so everything is ready to move once the university’s storage vault and work area is completed. The Georgetown facilities manager told me to expect completion within four weeks.”
Trying to lighten the conversation, Clay concluded, “And that is near lightning speed for any university.”
* * * ~~~ * * *