Jazmay was wary, but intrigued by the proposal. ‘You have my permission.’
‘Then close your eyes and relax,’ Rhiannon instructed, and when Jazmay conformed, Rhiannon began to telepathically convey her cosmology lesson.
In her mind’s eye Jazmay saw a bright circular rainbow, which appeared not unlike a galaxy spiralling outward. White at the centre, the rainbow progressed through many shades of sparkling colours into indigo, violet, blue, green, yellow, orange, red and then at the edges all colour faded into darkness. As Jazmay’s consciousness was swept down into the white centre of the circular mass, Rhiannon said, ‘In the beginning there is the Logos, the source of all cosmic light which is the eternal fire, that is to our spirit what sunlight is to our physical being.’
Once inside the calming, harmonious white centre, Jazmay heard a beautiful, high-pitched note coming from behind her.
‘Through sonic vibration cosmic light penetrates into darkness …’
The celestial note created a wave and on the crest of this Jazmay’s consciousness was pushed outward, the white light around her shattering into sparkling silver and black.
‘… and the Logos forged its way through many levels of awareness still unfathomable to us.’
Jazmay’s surrounds turned deep sparkling blue, then pure silver, gold and finally violet.
‘And it is here that our understanding of the scheme of the soul begins, where cosmic light creates space, by separating into many different pockets of creative consciousness, all working in cooperation to create the multiverse.’
Jazmay’s consciousness was drawn upwards to see that she was now, in fact, within only one of billions of spiralling universes.
‘Galaxies within universes, stars and planets within them …’
Jazmay’s perception returned to her individual spiralling universe, where galaxies, stars and planets abounded.
‘Atoms within molecules, protons and neutrons within them, from the macrocosm to the microcosm, we are the same.’
The galaxy before Jazmay grew and expanded around her until her perception had increased to the point where she could perceive the molecular world of cosmic light particles that bound everything together, and it was a wonder to behold, for it appeared just like a small universe.
‘Our soul group continues to expand and divide into smaller groups of consciousness, still working in cooperation to explore creation, each one step closer to physical manifestation, each more and more specialised to one area of the multiverse, yet all still in contact with our cosmic soul source through our higher soul group connections.’
‘Yes. I see,’ Jazmay whispered, in awe of her comprehension.
‘But in order to fully merge with our creation, spirit must form bodies to withstand the various planes of awareness it must pass through to reach the lowest sonic vibration that is physical manifestation. From the divine architect that is our soul-mind we split into the silent watchers to oversee our creations.’
The molecules around Jazmay were attracted to her as her consciousness again expanded and she saw herself as a formless light being, observing a small portion of a universe — at least, it seemed tiny in comparison to her awareness.
‘As silent watchers we are still purely observers. We form lower causal bodies to act as a conduit between us and the many consciousnesses that will split from us and stream further into matter.’
Jazmay felt her consciousness splinter apart but her awareness stayed with just one fragment of her previous self, infinitely smaller than her silent watcher, but no longer formless; there was a vague human shape to her celestial being.
‘These lower causal beings are known to us as the Grigori. Neither male nor female, but through the experiences of their incarnations here in the physical universes they have become the perfect blend of both. We chose to split our soul-mind to such a polarity as it was the ultimate separation and only through cooperation between man and woman could mankind as a whole survive.’
Again Jazmay felt her awareness split in two, and she remained with just a female consciousness, yet she felt another presence moving down through awareness alongside her.
‘This split half of us has shared the scary journey down through the planes of evolution, forming a mental body, an emotional body and finally physical form in which to experience many lives and lessons in time, space and reality with us. And, along with the rest of our soul group, that soul-mate will share the journey back to our soul source again.’
Up until this point, Jazmay had been really enjoying the mental journey Rhiannon had taken her on. Still, as her female manifestation turned to meet her split-apart, Jazmay gasped on the shock of recognising him.
‘Men make my skin crawl.’ The Phemorian stood to break the spell Rhiannon had on her mind.
Rhiannon was clearly concerned by Jazmay’s adverse reaction, although not entirely surprised.
‘Not all loving couples are male and female,’ Jazmay protested the implication that she should ever fall in love with a man.
‘True,’ Rhiannon conceded, ‘even among the Chosen there are same-sex pairings, but it’s not due to the hatred of the other sex, but rather a greater love of their own. Hatred stems from fear and inside every fear is a secret wish, Jazmay.’
‘What is that supposed to mean?’ Jazmay placed her hands on her hips, annoyed, and yet she had to suppress her smile. ‘Why did you plant that image of your kinsman in my mind?’
Rhiannon, clearly perplexed, grinned. ‘Which one of my kinsmen would you be referring to?’
Jazmay blocked the image from her mind as Rhiannon was clearly a very good telepath. ‘Forget I mentioned it.’
Thankfully, Rhiannon was distracted by some other thought and respectfully requested that Jazmay hush. After a moment, Rhiannon emerged from her trance to advise, ‘Our governor has invited Fari and yourself to join him for lunch.’
Anything that got her away from this conversation was a welcome development. ‘We would be honoured.’ Jazmay breathed a silent sigh of relief.
In a closed meeting in the presidential office on Maladaan, Zelimir Ronan briefed his president on all the intelligence gathered on their planet’s unprecedented predicament and, quite frankly, the information raised more questions than it answered. Unfortunately for the chief of the MSS, he was not being blamed for what had transpired and so remained in charge of the investigation.
‘You were following Khalid Mansur’s instructions, so I’d say the United Systems Secret Service has a lot to answer for, once we re-establish communications with the US,’ President Woodford Tallak stated at last. He was no longer a young man and it seemed that he hadn’t entirely grasped what he’d been told; he was too focused on trying to separate himself from any blame to realise that there was no authority higher than himself any more.
‘That was my conclusion also, President Tallak, but with all due respect, if our planet has been displaced in space and time as we suspect, chances are we will never re-establish contact with the US.’ Ronan tried to nudge the near catatonic leader back towards reality, although he had to admit he was still having difficulty wrapping his head around their predicament himself. ‘What we need to do is establish a line of communication with the planet that has taken our craft captive and find out what their intentions are.’
The president, although overwhelmed by the situation, nodded. ‘You are right, we need —’ Tallak’s eyes became fixed on a spot behind Ronan and he paled in fear.
The chief turned quickly to find one of his lost agents and another young man, strangely clad in trousers, a vest and little else — not even shoes — had somehow found their way into the closed meeting.
‘MSS Agent Juna reporting.’ Juna stepped forward to address Ronan directly. ‘With an envoy from planet Kila, who wishes to speak with you, Chief … Mr President.’ Juna acknowledged them both and stepped back to a place beside the envoy.
‘I am Avery,’ said the tall, fair stranger. ‘I am Lord of the Otherworld
and brother to the Governor of Kila. I speak on his behalf, as ruler of Kila and of all the planets within the inter-planetary alliance, to welcome Maladaan to our solar system, Esh-mah, which, in the tongue of the Ancients who first named our system, means, “the divine inside place”.’
Ronan was in utter shock for a moment: did this stranger know something about what had happened to Maladaan? The being’s aura was utterly bedazzling and extended way beyond that of anyone else around him. There were no dark patches on his glistening silver light-body which appeared to have large wings sprouting from between the shoulder blades — these would not have been noted by the naked eye — perhaps he was a shape-shifter?
‘How did you get in here?’ The president was beside himself with fear. ‘Psychism,’ he accused with disdain.
‘Please, Mr President, calm down,’ Ronan appealed — if this man had knowledge of their predicament then he was a godsend, psychic or no.
The look on his president’s face was sinister.
Ronan knew there was a silent alarm beneath the president’s desk and the envoy could well be an impostor — Cardea, the shape-shifting Phemorian, could assume any form — so Ronan knew his appeal for restraint would fall on deaf ears.
The double doors to the president’s office swung open and two armed agents opened fire upon the intruders.
Ronan gasped as the bullets halted in midair and froze, as if imbedded in an invisible wall, several feet in front of the stranger and Agent Juna, separating them from the gunmen. When the agents stopped firing, the suspended bullets all dropped to the floor at once.
‘Seriously.’ The envoy from Kila turned to the mystified president and Ronan, refraining from laughing as he shook his head. ‘I am immortal and a psychic …’
The news was utterly shocking to Ronan and his president, but instead of inciting hatred and fear in Ronan, as such news normally would, the chief felt a glimmer of hope for Maladaan and himself.
‘… so killing me because you fear I might do you harm, isn’t really an option.’ With a flick of his wrist, their visitor closed the exit doors and locked the gunmen out. ‘You’re just going to have to trust me.’
‘What do you want?’ The president sank back into his seat, as if to distance himself from the intruder as much as possible.
‘An excellent question,’ the envoy from Kila said. ‘I am here to assure you that your agents and your two surviving prisoners have been picked up by our authorities and are in fine health, as Agent Juna can confirm.’
‘I confirm.’ Juna grinned, greatly enjoying seeing his president and the chief of the MSS put in their place. ‘Actually, I’d say we are in better shape than when we left Maladaan.’ He referred to his liberated ankle.
‘My governor has offered your people asylum and all have accepted,’ the barefooted envoy was happy to advise.
‘How do we know you haven’t killed them all and brainwashed him!’ Ronan found it difficult to believe that his agents had been turned from their duty so easily.
‘You can see for yourself.’ Kila’s envoy referred him to Agent Juna, who used the communicator on his wristband to request an audio-visual chat with his commander.
‘Commander, the chief would like a word,’ Juno advised before extending his arm towards the chief.
On the small screen Ronan perceived his agents enjoying a lavish lunch with some citizens of Kila. ‘Commander, I order you to return to base at once!’ The chief was outraged by the scene.
‘Sorry, Chief.’ The commander grinned. ‘The truth is I never wanted to be an ordinary person —’
‘Hear, hear!’ His men cut him off as they cheered.
There were a couple of other people seated at the table with his men that Ronan recognised. ‘Are those the prisoners Cardea and Doon there with you?’ the chief queried, shocked beyond belief, as the escapees waved at him.
‘They are not prisoners here, Ronan,’ replied the commander, ‘and neither are we, you son-of-a—’
Avery passed his hand over Agent Juna’s wristband to end the communication before it turned nasty.
‘They will betray your kindness, sir,’ Ronan warned.
‘Then they will lose the liberties that have been awarded them, and I don’t think they are willing to risk that,’ the envoy from Kila reasoned, ‘our capital city, Chailida, is very inviting.’
‘Are the rest of your people like you?’ President Tallak asked.
‘If you mean, are they immortal and psychic then, yes, all are like me.’ The envoy made that perfectly clear. ‘So if you have a mind to covet our fair planet, think again: our psychic expertise, esoteric knowledge and technological capabilities far exceed your own. I am here to help you; I have already helped you by finding a galaxy similar to your own in which your planet may reside until such time as we figure out how to return it to its rightful universe and system.’
Ronan was shocked to the core by the envoy’s words. ‘You had something to do with the misplacement?’
‘Oh no …’ the young visitor said with a cheeky air.
He was reading Ronan’s mind, the chief was sure of it.
‘Your planet was ripped from its rightful place in the universal scheme, when your people —’ the stranger pointed directly at Ronan, certain of his involvement, ‘— entrapped part of an arupa-deva that was in the process of making a quantum jump from one universal scheme to another. Because this being was physically attached to your planet at the time, Maladaan was dragged through the fabric of time and space into this universe, leaving a gaping tear between the two.’
‘Are you saying that gas sample was a being of some sort?’ Ronan was intrigued.
‘A very advanced being,’ their visitor emphasised. ‘Kestler warned you that the gas may have been drawing energy from a larger entity.’ The envoy raised both eyebrows in conclusion.
How did he know so much? ‘You’ve spoken with Kestler,’ Ronan concluded.
‘He disclosed his memory of events to us, yes,’ Kila’s representative clarified.
Although Ronan had never trusted anyone in his life, the Governor of Kila had pardoned psychics, criminal and soldier alike, and now that Ronan was displaying psychic talent he was no longer safe on Maladaan; he needed a good excuse to meet with Kila’s governor.
The president was not convinced and scoffed out loud. ‘With such psychic expertise and technological capability as you claim to have, it seems far more likely that this whole catastrophe is nothing but a mass hallucination you are employing in a bid to seize our fine planet.’
The envoy from Kila was amused by the accusation. ‘Your fine planet?’ He contained his amusement. ‘Your fine planet is nothing but a mass of steel construction over a resource-exhausted dead skeleton of a globe, choked by pollution. What would Kila stand to gain from the acquisition besides a few billion more mouths to feed?’
Ronan had to stifle his own amusement as the envoy was absolutely right. ‘So you think it may be possible to rectify our planet’s displacement?’
‘In my experience, there is nothing that has been done that cannot be undone,’ Avery replied. ‘Given some time to investigate, I believe a solution will be forthcoming. Until then, as you are so resource-exhausted, Maladaan is going to need aid to feed your people and other supplies to keep your planet operating as normally as possible; Kila can help with this.’
‘You still have not mentioned what you desire in return?’ The president, although wary, was warming towards their visitor who was offering the information and answers that he needed to calm Maladaan’s confused masses.
‘We require you to refrain from all hostility,’ the envoy began. ‘If any of your spacecraft approach Kila without the express permission of our governor, it shall not reflect well on Maladaan. Kila’s interplanetary alliance is six planets strong and our allies will not take kindly to having their capital threatened. The primary objective of our governor’s council is to keep the peace, and keep the peace we shall.’
The
president realised the offer was rather generous. ‘And Kila would award Maladaan the same courtesy … no popping in and out unannounced?’
As the envoy saw the humour in the president’s comeback and assured President Tallak that all arrivals from Kila would be announced in future, Ronan could hardly believe the diplomacy skills of the visiting dignitary. True, they really had little choice but to trust his word, but Ronan felt the great weight of what had happened lift from his shoulders and he felt sure his president felt the same way.
‘I shall depart,’ the envoy from Kila concluded. ‘It may take some time to figure out how to get your planet home, but I can at least assure you it will not perish before we can find a solution. I shall use Agent Juna’s communicator to keep in contact.’
‘And when shall we have the honour of making your governor’s acquaintance?’ Tallak inquired.
‘If you would like to travel to Kila …’ the envoy suggested.
‘Not I.’ The president was very uncomfortable with that idea.
‘Allow me, Mr President.’ Ronan snatched up the opportunity he’d been hoping for.
‘No,’ Juna spoke out of turn to advise Kila’s envoy. ‘He is the evilest of men.’
‘I understand your apprehension, Juna,’ the Lord disagreed, ever so politely, ‘but I believe Chief Ronan is seeing things very differently now.’
The comment near winded Ronan with the truth of it, and then the envoy from Kila turned his striking amber eyes the chief’s way and winked at him. He must be telepathic, Ronan concluded, for he had told no one of his visual affliction.
‘I shall inform my governor to expect guests.’ The envoy backed up towards Agent Juna.
President Tallak stood and bowed his head to the envoy. ‘I apologise for my initial scepticism, Lord Avery. Please tell your governor that he is most generous … the citizens of Maladaan are greatly in his debt.’
‘I shall do as you ask. Peace be with you, brothers.’ The envoy gripped Agent Juna around the wrist and promptly vanished with him, leaving the president and the chief gaping in awe.