Children of the Source (11 page)

    “We’ll help heal you.
  Just having you and your family in a secure place together is the biggest plus.  Hot baths, nutritional therapy, massage, hypnosis, lots of things.”  We walked in silence taking in and enjoying the day.  It struck me that Buck had never mentioned the aliens.  “What do you think of them?”  I pointed to the spacecraft.

    He looked over, surprised.
  “Oh, those.  I dreamed of them years ago,” he said carelessly, pleased with himself.  “Who would believe me?  So I kept it to myself.”

    By this time we could see the ruins of the Museum of Northern Arizona.
   Laith saw us and shouted.  It amazed me to see anyone in the ruins.  The place gave people the creeps, and most everyone gave it a wide berth.  He raced up and we hugged, sharing information.  “How is Janet?”  I asked.

    Laith cocked his head and looked at Williams.
  “Buck Williams?” he said and they shook hands.

    “Yes.
  How did you know?”

    Laith shrugged.
  “Saw a picture of you in your wife’s mind, but didn’t expect the grey hair.  Janet is fine.  So is your wife.”  Laith paused briefly.  “Excuse me.  I’m Jamie’s oldest son, Laith.”

    “What’s up?” I asked.

    “Lots of disturbances,” he said.  “From the ones killed here.”

    “Ghosts?”
  Buck’s eyes widened.

    “These personalities are quite alive, Buck.  Just not in the physical body,” I said.
   “Kind of like spinning their wheels you might say.  Like a nightmare over and over.  Except for them, they do it constantly, sometimes for many years.”

    “Dad, we need to do some work here.”
  He closed his eyes a moment.  “Nine men and six women died here.  Five men and three women went on.  The rest need help.”  I’d never mentioned the exact number of people killed.  Laith opened his eyes.  “Thanks for helping the others go on.”

    I nodded.
  “Everyone else had an impenetrable energy wall around them.”

    “The energy wall is starting to break down.”
  We headed back to Cheshire.

    “Perhaps you could call a meeting of the Dream Makers this evening.”

    “Speak of the devil,” Laith said.  Helen stood at the outer perimeter gate waiting for us.

    “Be polite,” I admonished.
  “That’s my future daughter-in-law you’re speaking about.”

    “Count on that,”
  Laith said.

    I saw Victoria coming toward us, holding a little girl’s hand.
  I recognized Janet.

    Buck saw her.
  “Janet?”

    The girl turned at her name, and stared at Buck.
  “Haddy?”  she said, slurring the word.

    Buck knelt holding out his hands.
  Janet ran into his arms.  Then Clara was flying down the road and into their arms.  Never seen such a reunion.  “You did a good job, Laith.”

    Laith frowned.
  “Funny thing, Dad.  I felt this electric shock and Janet could hear perfectly.  Never happened like that before.”  Helen and Judith exchanged glances.

    “It’s part of the puzzle.
  You might get more information from your Grandpa Charles.”  I pointed to him in the root crop area hoeing out weeds.   Laith headed in his direction. 

    I turned to Victoria.
  “How is our friend Eli?”

    “Coming along,”
  Victoria said.  “Spends a lot of time with  Baldy.  He was fascinated by the hot springs so he’s helping with  maintenance.  Good with his hands.  Mario wants him with the house maintenance crew.  We’ll see what happens.”

    “How’s Baldy?”

    “Just underfed and not groomed.”  Victoria smiled.  “A bit like Eli’s beliefs on many things.  The two complement each other very nicely.  Excellent living symbolism.”

     I laughed.
  Victoria didn’t miss much.  No ordinary child.  Helen turned to me.  “I’ll call a meeting of the Dream Makers for tonight.

     “Thank you.
  It will be memorable.”

6

            Most people think the ‘Other side’ is some type of spiritual netherworld without structure and substance.  Nothing is further from the truth.  Everything is part of a spectrum of conscious energy.  Our physical world is a tiny portion of this energy ...   The Dream Makers meeting started with Laith outlining his discovery.  “I felt drawn to the museum.  There are seven people still reliving the nightmare of their deaths nearly twelve years ago.  This repetitive energy has become so ingrown it’s breaking down and giving us the opportunity to end a collective nightmare.”  Laith sat, straddling a stool.  “We can get into their dreams.”

    “Projecting into someone’s nightmare isn’t for the faint at heart,” Helen said. “These nightmares are intense energy fields.
  We will be dealing with purely mental constructs of the people involved.  They can be manipulated.”

    It took seven long days.
  Meeting another individual in an out-of-the-body experience is far different from any physical encounter.   The personality can take any form or forms it wishes.  The personality is literally the landscape and experience it finds itself in.

    I projected into an exploding grenade.
  Shrapnel tearing flesh, the blood and the pain.  The mental anguish worked far worse than any physical pain.  Here the helpless anger and grief shattered the psychic atmosphere over and over again.  It played on in the ruins in ways no horror movie could.  The people died over and over again in screaming terror and agony.  It took several hours before I learned to manipulate within it without being consumed by the pain.  I increased my personal energy field, creating a safety envelope around me.

    The first manipulation stopped the grenade from exploding.
  This slowed the frantic momentum of energy.  Next, I knew my subject Arnie ‘Bigfoot’ Jacobs listened to one member of his band - Bernie Ogten.  Bernie died early in the fighting and went on.  Arnie wasn’t aware of this.  I made myself into the form of Bernie.  I called to Arnie who turned around just before the an exploding mortar shell.  I put an energy block around the explosion and felt it hold better than I expected.

    The energy momentum slowed again.
  Arnie turned to face me as Bernie Ogten.  “Bernie. Where you been?”

    “I got knocked out, Bigfoot.”
  I nodded to some rocks I knew he’d ignored.

    “Think we can get outta here?” he asked.

    “Maybe.  I saw a place up by the dam we might sneak through.  Let’s get the others.”  We turned around and those Arnie felt most emotionally attached to came over.  “This is the best time to get out,”  I said.  The day had melted into uneven twilight.  The firing died down.

    We made our way belly down through the strewn and exploded wreckage of the museum to the dam.
  There we worked our way east skirting the perimeter of Cheshire until we circled it and went up the hill.  It made a hair-raising escape:  avoiding military patrols, a narrow escape from a soldier that ‘heard’ something, and the satisfaction of knowing everyone made it out alive. 

    It took some doing, but we managed to explain to Arnie what had happened and his situation, so he could go on.
  Eventually all the individuals ended up freed to go on.  All the problems of the former jay hawkers weren’t solved by any means, but they could now make conscious decisions about what they wanted to do.

    A great sense of satisfaction ran through the community.  Now the museum need not be avoided.
  The change in atmosphere was palatable.  Clean.  Our family spent the evening together.  Cookies and tea.  Simple.  Sitting around the living room.  Charles and Mary.  Helen’s father, Mike Roseman joined us.

    “Do you get anything on working with the aliens?”
  Abe asked, looking at me.

    “Things usually unfold in a natural fashion.
  You might ask your Grandpa Charles.”  

    “Grandpa?”

    Charles looked at Abe with a straight face.  “There was a time ... ”

    Abe covered his ears
and groaned.  “Not you, too.”

    We all laughed.
  Then Victoria said, “Oh boy, a story.  Tell us a story, Grandpa.”  More laughter.

    “I’ll tell you a true story,”
  Charles said.  “Long long ago there existed a great civilization on a planet far from your solar system.  These people traveled and traded with other planets, and the knowledge they possessed would make anything we have seem  less than kindergarten.  They were ruled by a queen whose powers were so great she was forbidden to marry lest she create factions that could upset the political stability of the planet.  There were many factions.  She was advised by a scientist-priest whom everyone respected.  Not liked, but respected.  Eventually, they became secret lovers.  They hid this relationship from everyone.

    “Any rate, like us, these people’s spiritual maturity lagged far behind their technical knowledge.
  Through hate, envy, fear and a host of other aberrant problems, they destroyed their planet.  The federation of planets they belonged to drove them out.  Eventually, they arrived on our planet and settled.  But the factions still existed that had caused the disasters.  Finally, a third leader, the advisor to the queen, seeing the carnage to come, gathered his followers and left.”   He looked at me. 

    Charles cleared his throat.
  “Shortly after that the factions fought.  Now, this was not your modern day fighting with guns, missiles, nuclear weapons, lasers and such.   They used their minds to make war.  These personalities knew a vast amount about light and sound.   Indeed, they used a Sound Language to manipulate molecular structure.”  He stopped a moment, choosing his words carefully.  “Everyone has an energy frequency, and they sought out each others, killing and maiming.  You can’t imagine how horrendous that is.  Everyone died except the most widely followed leader.  He had violated his most sacred oath.”

    “Oath?”
  Mike blinked.

    “He had sworn an oath to himself never to abuse the Sound Language.
  So he laid a task  that he would help shepherd the development of this planet and its Beings to its point of greatest potential.   We are at that point.   He asked the leader who led his people away to come back.”  Charles gestured to the aliens.  “They have come back. ”

    “And the leader who left?” Judith asked.

    “He’s here.  Welcoming committee so to speak.  The aliens know who he is,”  Charles said, sipping his tea.

    Laith said, “Does
he
know who he is?”  He passed a plate of cookies.

    “Fair question.
   He will.  These were not pleasant people.  It will not be a fun experience to understand who he is, and where he’s coming from.”  

    “So, how about religion and science?” Mary asked, shifting in her oversized chair.
   “How did these aliens divide the two,” 

    Charles chuckled.
   “We are such a peculiar people, aren’t we?   Insisting we compartmentalize our knowledge.   They would find what we do very difficult to believe.  They see all knowledge as one, part of a larger whole.  The Earth is a very basic school system.”

    An hour later we called it good and went to bed.   As I melted into sleep I felt myself pulled in a direction I’d never been before.  Like a fluid shift to an identity that had been deliberately masked - hidden long ago.  We were truly giants then and vastly sure of ourselves.  Space travel between planets made trading alliances.   A small group of us belonged to a special cadre of scientist-priests who used a Sound Language that could literally change one molecular structure into another using tonal complexes.   We were sworn never to abuse this language, but that didn’t hold for everyone.  Though I was invited, I never joined a faction.  There was always something within me that kept me from violating my oath.  That set me apart.  Eventually competing factions grew into warring factions.  But not before I met with the other scientist-priests and told them I was leaving.   I knew of the carnage to come, and dreaded the devastation to this new planet.  

    I was there in my dream.
  We sat around a great oval table, all thirty-five of us.  Our energy levels dwarfed those of normal people.  We’d learned to forge a close and strong energy link with our core selves as part of activating this vast knowledge.  Because of this we could and did live hundreds of years.  Our followers lived normal life spans.   We took great care with our thoughts as we knew their true power.  With our knowledge, the lag time between thinking and creating physically was very very short.   “I’m taking my people away,” I said.

    “Running away?”
  The sneer lay in the words.  I turned to the arrogant man at the head of the table.  So completely sure of himself.   The perfectly molded body, smooth and strong with careful balanced energies, ageless.  Hairless with warm bronze skin and brilliant blue eyes.  Someone I liked but didn’t trust and wanted, needed, a distance between us. 

    “Akenton, so sure of yourself.
  Is there nothing you cannot do and have not done?  All of us know full well you intend to war.  Trying to control this hatred and anger is all you can barely do.  How limiting.  No, we are leaving and wish you well,” I said.

    Akenton’s teeth showed.
  “Anemic child.  Your passions are rusty and weak.  Your Will abbreviated with ideas.  Perhaps it is best you creep away and leave us.”

    The laughter came from my immediate left.
  The great head with its splendid black hair,  Mator.   “He has never violated his oath.  That is worth something.   We are stained with what we have done, will do, Akenton.”

    The two rivals stared at each other.
  Each, leader of a fanatical faction sure the other was wrong.  Eugenics.  Akenton had mastered it, and Mator considered that an affront to the universe.  Akenton used his knowledge to enhance his followers, and recruit more.  They became a race of supermen and women.  Sure of themselves in their arrogance, they could extend their lives for dozens of years.  But there was a problem.  A mysterious cutoff date of approximately a hundred fifty years.  No one knew why.  Everything started breaking down at that point.  Akenton labored single-mindedly to find out why, but every avenue appeared blocked.  When his followers lobbied him to give them the secret of the Sound Language, he always refused.  They had no place to go, and began to desert his ranks.

    Mator said he knew, and taunted Akenton that he would never discover the reason.
  Akenton’s followers besieged Mator, who  answered simply that physical bodies were not meant to live longer.  This simple truth did not satisfy them.  Some of them became very frustrated and turned to me.   At the time my name was Kodus.  I was one of the leaders of the scientist-priests who controlled the Sound Language. 

    I shook my head.
  “Akenton,” I said, “there are seasons of behavior.  You are in the consuming rage of Summer.”  I stared into my brother’s eyes.  “The final storm of Summer is nearer than you think, and its aftermath will leave an open wound that will never truly heal.   That will change everything.”   I stood ready to go.  “One day remember our friendship and call for me.”

    Mator hugged me.
  “Remember me, Kodus.”

    “Indeed, my friend.
  We are not done,”  I said.   Mator and I had a deep affection for each other.  I turned at the door looking at those behind me.  Akenton, face sour, would not meet my gaze.  I bowed and left.

    In the flow afterwards, I knew of the disastrous war between Akenton and Mator.
  Thousands died, the planet lay in ruins, until only Akenton and Mator were left.  Then Akenton overwhelmed Mator and, standing over his body, understood in that eternal moment the horror of what he’d done. 

    In an instant of time Akenton/Charles was there asking me to come back.
   He’d changed.  I still felt the jolt of distrust and gut catching desire to keep a distance between us.   But something had changed.  No longer having the Sound Language, he still had the great personal power, confidence, and vast intent, but the focus was changed.  Aimed in a singular desire to create a positive change in others and the Earth.  Gone was the careless arrogance and in its place a frightening awareness and intent to create, but tempered with wisdom and patience.  

    He asked us to be the focus for this return on a local level - especially me
and Judith.   I’d be the welcoming committee with others from our group, reincarnating in a survival community.   Memories and abilities would awaken at specific times.  A carefully calculated dance of time and circumstance some might call magic.  And in this dream that was more than a dream an inner shift opened within and I had the Sound Language again, complete with everything it was capable of doing.  The best I can describe is having a series of tuning forks available within that I could use and project with my mind.  Everyone and everything has a feeling-tone, a frequency.  Anything can get tuned into with this Sound Language and its molecular structure manipulated.  But along with this Sound Language was a deep ingrained need never to abuse it.  This ingrained knowledge came from understanding that all life is conscious, aware, with the right to prosper in its own way.  Blessed be and Harm none were cornerstones of this Sound Language for me.