Chapter 3
The Safe Haven Campus on Bliss manifested itself all at once, an island castle the equivalent of Castle Trakai, located in Trakai, Lithuania. It wasn’t precisely the same, as the island that rose from Lake Tranquility to meet the need of the campus had its own unique geologic properties that added to the magic of the place. There was a single bridge that stretched across the water to the land, but inside the campus proper were a series of Moon Gates that permitted portal access to the students and faculty. Loxy accepted the head dean position of the Bliss campus, which mirrored Trelinda’s position at the Safe Haven Prime, and they would be coordinating remotely. After surveying the new campus, Trelinda returned via one of the gates to Safe Haven Prime, while the professors that Loxy had rescued immediately began their personal search for their office and classroom space. It wasn’t a competitive, prolonged ordeal, but rather they simply went to where they were intuitively drawn. On the occasional overlap or territorial dispute, Loxy was brought in as an administrator to resolve it.
Jon smartly and fully relinquished that duty to Loxy. He was still baffled by the hypnotic episode which he now suspected happened, but only due to the circumstantial evidence, not because of any profound revelatory experience. Whatever Loxy had experienced, it had been cathartic enough to move her into a new space. She was satisfied that she had earned her Masters. There would be a private ceremony later, where Trelinda would provide her an undergraduate ring, her Master’s ring, and Loxy would decide on her Doctoral pathway. It would be a double Doctorate, as she was expected to enter a non-magical college and earn a ‘regular’ doctorate in any academic field of interest, and she could not be graduated from the Safe Haven Doctorate program until the other was accomplished.
“Everything seems so complicated,” Jon told her, as they sat on the wall of the highest tower, below which was her office. News of the new campus had spread and students were exploring.
“It will get easier,” Loxy assured him. “I don’t feel graduated,” Jon said.
“You will,” Loxy said. “You’re still in process.”
“Can you tell me anything about it?” Jon asked.
“You’re embarking on new paradigm,” Loxy said. “The old paradigm was about competition. Differentiating everything. The new paradigm is an integrative field of bridging independent agencies into synergistic systems of cooperation. The analogy would be that of a person with multiple personality. We don’t want to make one personality out of all the existing personalities, but rather, we want to encourage a cooperative existence between all the personalities.”
“And what if there can be no compromise?” Jon asked.
“War has not brought any viable, long term solutions, but only led to more fragmentation and increased conflicts,” Loxy said. “Healing occurs when we love the unlovable. That is true whether it involves others, or aspects of ourselves. And without others to mirror those things in us we abhor, we can’t experience true healing.”
“Have you observed that in the different worlds we seem to have different strengths?” Jon said.
Loxy mulled the observation over. “That’s kind of the purpose of other worlds, isn’t it?”
“To allow us to entertain attributes that don’t get air time without context?” Jon asked. “Sounds good,” Loxy said.
Jon frowned, puzzling through his perceived discontent, unconsciously drawing a handful of peeled pecans from his pocket. He was eating it before he realized he was eating it.
“Let’s come at it a different way,” Loxy said, taking some pecans for herself. There was a growing trend where she would just take his food, right from his hands or plate, and it was happening in every world.
“It?” Jon asked.
“The problem,” Loxy said. “My problem?” Jon asked.
“Our problem,” Loxy corrected. “Okay,” Jon said.
“If you were to pick the thing you struggle with the most, what do you imagine that to be?” Loxy asked.
Jon’s frown was unconscious as he already had an immediate answer. He also unconsciously clenched his hand, and even though his mind was satisfied, he knew his unconscious was still sorting through its entire bank of knowledge looking for more answers before it would drop the question. The unconscious mind was always more thorough than the casual surface mind. Jon took note of the stillness of the water and the reflection of the Castle seemed so perfect he could easily imagine it being an inverted version of the same.
“You know what I struggle with,” he said. “Say it,” Loxy said.
“My hyper-sexuality,” Jon said. “Which is my problem, not an us problem.”
“It’s an us problem,” Loxy insisted. “It’s a societal problem. Here’s how it’s an ‘us.’ Women believe men think about only one thing, and consequently, in thinking that, we have amplified that very thing we say we detest, which makes it realer than real, so much so that if we don’t perceive the man coming at us wanting only that, we either think he isn’t a man, or we’re not attractive enough. Even if it were just a true offer of friendship, we can’t allow that because we know he will secretly want sex and is plotting to get sex, even if we want the friend, we have to either assume he’s gay or there is something wrong with us, and the friendship exists so we can contemplate what’s wrong with us or wait for the trap to happen that results in his getting sex to prove our point. If a man came straight at us looking for acceptance or nurture, we would see that as less manly, too needy, and consequently reject them. In truth, no man is simply searching for sex, they are looking to be accepted and loved unconditionally, but that is the one thing a woman has the most trouble giving. From day one, we treat male babies differently, and we send them on a trajectory of independence and competition, and they will spend the rest of their lives looking for the nurturing they didn’t get. At some point, the only nurture, or affection if you will, that men are afforded is in sex act itself. And once they get that sense of acceptance, they return to the independent state, and the women gets mad because he won’t stay and cuddle and be intimate, but that is not a skill he was allowed to develop because that’s not manly, and so we humans are presently stuck in this unproductive dance.”
Wow, Jon thought. Her explanation seemed to fit him and what he had himself been thinking, in terms of his sexuality being an underlying desire to connect.
“Do you want to know what my practical was?” Loxy asked.
Jon grimaced as if he was about to be forced to watch a surgery, with a lot of blood and guts, only, given his knowledge of Loxy’s Dakini undergraduate path, it would probably also include sex. Gross sex. “Not particularly,” Jon said.
“I had to love someone who was unlovable,” Loxy said anyway.
Jon nearly defined what ‘not particularly’ meant, but let it go as he focused on the unlovable equation. “Me,” Jon said, meeting her eyes bravely.
“OMG, Jon, you are so loveable you might as well be an Ewok,” Loxy said. “OMG, I hate Ewoks,” Jon said.
“Oh, how can you hate Ewoks?!” Loxy asked.
“The same way I hate the scene where they’re torturing Droids,” Jon said. “It’s sublimation. Lucas wants to show us an evil universe where people get killed and tortured, he even puts Leah in the BDSM outfit, but doesn’t explain why Huts like human females, but he can’t commit to the darkness and so he gives a humorously absurd picture that allows us access it without true entry. It’s why Anakin’s fall is so ludicrous. It isn’t steeped with subtle lies and treachery and just isn’t believable, nor his is recovery. One act of goodness, saving the son, was insufficient to cover the misdeeds he had committed.”
“And, maybe the version that got screen time was the kids version so that more people could access it,” Loxy said.
“Maybe,” Jon said.
“And maybe, we’re all Jedi in training,” Loxy said. “Which leads us back to the new paradigm: it isn’t the light against the dark, but rather the co-existence of the two. Lucas frequently has characters looking for balance in the Force. There can be no balance if either side is dominant. They both must exist. Maybe the Jedi’s had to fall because there was too much good in the Universe, which means Anakin was still the prophesied one who would bring balance back to the Force!”
“Yeah, that makes sense to me, too,” Jon agreed. “So, what do I have to do to get closure with this practical?”
“Nothing,” Loxy said.
“I feel like I should be doing something,” Jon said. “Want to go make flowers?” Loxy asked.
“Do you suppose our home has been vacated?” Jon asked. “Do you care if anyone hears?” Loxy asked.
“Not really,” Jon said.
They held hands and passed through a Moon Gate at the top of the tower, expediting their return to 2nd Home.
निनमित
There is rarely just an activating event, but a leakage of information that precedes events. For example, there is evidence that the Princeton Random Number generator experiment predicted 9/11 and the fall of the towers. Technically it didn’t predict, but given the number of times the ‘Global Consciousness Awareness program” has seen a spike in non-random numbers prior to events that had huge social impact, it suggests a pattern of information being transmitted that could be used to ‘predict’ events. When a random number generator ceases to be random, it suggests and event is likely. When multiple generators stop being random, simultaneously, there is greater likelihood of a big event. ‘Events’ tend to be circumstances that have an impact on the social lives of people and or animals and is evidence for information traveling backwards through time. And before random event generators, events were heralded by wild animals and farm animals acting peculiar. All biological creatures are random number generators.
In addition to animal behaviors changing prior to an earthquake, the voice of a child protesting or showing signs of anxiety is a good example of change coming, and it would be wise to drop to a knee and give a child eye time. Sarah Lee, four years old, was in her car seat prior to the appearance of the First Ability. She was particularly sensitive to non-traditional pathways of information to start with, but rarely had it seemed so intrusive. Her father was driving. Her mother was in the passenger seat. The car was moving through down town Seattle, moving slow, and hitting every light. Sara made eye contact with a pedestrian. She did not like the way he looked at her. If she hadn’t been strapped into the seat, she might have jumped out of it and climbed into her mother’s lap. When the demon version of the man slapped hard against her window, licking and grasping as if wanting to maul her, in a sexual way as opposed to a the Walking Dead hunger way, which was in her mind because her parents loved that show, she nearly screamed. She settled for holding her breath and watching. It was only her belief that the window could protect her that kept the demon version of the man from getting in right away. The real version of the man continued to stare at her, licking his lips, not a nice smile playing across his face. Her mother must have sensed something, because she looked up from her phone, away from the App that had just deployed asking for “Enlightenment now or later” and directly at the man, who suddenly found other things to do. His phone had the same App opened, which he flashed her as if to broadcast he wasn’t taking picture of them.
The window seemed to be coming down as the demon drew its hands down across the glass. Its fingers reached in through the top. Sarah Lee screamed just as her father proceeded through the intersection. Her mother turned back to her. A trash truck ran the red the light and impacted their car. The car flipped and spun on its roof. Glass, like tiny fragments of diamonds, flew through the car. The man who had been ogling her ended up underneath the upside down car.
The world came to a stop. Sarah Lee hung upside down, secured to her car seat. The ghost of the man and the demon of the man was trying to get her, even as the world was laughing. She struggled and flailed as if being bombarded by a swarm of bees. And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, she was in a safe place.
Sara was in a park and there was a man sitting on a park bench, feeding pigeons. He looked familiar and was certainly approachable. There is an aura about good men, and he was safe. Not like the lecherous guy who had been trying to maul her with his projected self. As the man feeding pigeons seemed to be the only adult around, indeed, the only person, she advanced, wondering if pigeons were people, too. He seemed more familiar as she drew closer, and she placed him by one of the videos her mother liked playing.
“Excuse me,” Sarah said. “Aren’t you Miss Daisy’s driver?”
“I am. I was. You can call me Morgan, if you like,” Morgan said. “I am kind of lost,” Sarah said.
“Lost or confused?” Morgan asked.
Sarah puzzled over it. She could discern a distinction. “Something’s different.”
“It’s about to get bad. Do you want to stay here till it’s sorted, or would you like to go back?” Morgan asked.
“My parents need me,” Sarah said.
“I assure you, they’ll be alright if you chose to stay,” Morgan said. “Am I the only one here?” Sarah asked.
“You’re the first. Unless you count the pigeons. And the squirrels. If you would like to help greet folks, there will be some other people your age arriving shortly,” Morgan said. “Might help comfort them.”
“What is my age here?” Sarah asked. It seemed like the right question. She didn’t feel four. Four felt otherworldly.
“Younger than me,” Morgan said. “You’re funny,” Sarah said. “Funny or weird?” Morgan asked.
Sarah considered. She could discern a distinction here, too. “Weird. Funny weird.”
“Well, thank you Miss Sarah,” Morgan said. “I like weird, especially funny weird. So, what will it be?”
“I think there should be ice cream. Or perhaps a Chucky Cheese, pizza and games kind of thing,” Sarah said.
“Wow. I wish I had a thought of that,” Morgan said. He pointed behind her. “Will that do?”
“Yes. Can my mother join me?” Sarah asked.
“Not yet,” Morgan said. “Go get some ice cream. There will be nice people to serve you.”
“Aren’t you coming?” Sarah asked.
“I am going to feed the pigeons a little longer,” Morgan said. “Catch you later?”
“Okay,” Sarah said.
निनमित
Timothy Smith, 19, paraplegic, stared at his computer monitor. Moving the sensor across the screen with his mind was a tedious exercise, but over the last year he had established sufficient speed that he could write simple texts, interact through chat windows, and navigate the world web. Having read about the bizarre, magical world of ‘Not Here,’ he made himself knowledgeable about the thing called ‘Tulpas.’ Four years locked in his body had given him an increase in imaginative powers, but creating tulpas and wonderlands had given him freedom beyond anything he had experienced in real life, even prior to becoming a paraplegic. Initially, he had conspired to solicit Slender Man to attack and kill his sister. That experiment failed. He wondered if that required a group effort to manifest poltergeist activity. When Slender Man failed, his affinity for Morlon Fribourg brought his first success with tulpamancy.
It was three o’clock when he had his first total ‘switch.’ He found himself outside of his body, staring at the back of his head, supported by a head rest. The sensation of being able to move again was a delight! He performed a victory dance. He stopped when he noticed his body’s hands moving forward to use the keyboard. He was confused.
“How did you do that?” Timothy asked. Fribourg didn’t answer.
“I command that you answer me,” Timothy said.
The wheelchair backed away from the computer and spun slowly around. Timothy found it eerie to see his own body glancing back at him, but even more eerie was seeing not himself but instead Fribourg. It was his body, broken and cradled in the chair, and yet, it was clearly not him. He understood it intellectually, but it was difficult to process the experience of it.
“You wanted to play God?” Fribourg asked. “Well, let’s meet your new God.”
Suddenly Fribourg was behind Timothy. A new ‘entity’ was inside his body. Fribourg had summoned his own Tulpa?
“Hello, son,” Fribourg said.
“What? How? Fribourg?!” Jon said.
“Yes, welcome to the Hell you created,” Fribourg said. “I think it only fair that you get a front row seat to the end of Origin.”
Jon attempted to move, but found himself unable.
“Locked in a 19 year old body? How comically poetic is that?” Fribourg said. “If you survive a week, you might gain enough control to move your thumb on the wheelchair’s joystick, but I don’t think you have a week. If I recall correctly, Miami gets nuked.”
“Let me out, Fribourg,” Jon insisted.
“Sorry, rules are rules,” Fribourg said. “The host here believes there needs to be an operating personality in the body at all times. So, your dilemma, stay and taste the consequences of your own actions, or summon another Tulpa to stand in your place. You have one already, right? Loxy? Put her in there and free yourself.”
“Timothy,” Jon said. “This is your body. Switch back, now.”
“Are you kidding? I want nothing to do with this body ever again,” Timothy said. “Good luck.”
Timothy touched his chest where a Star Fleet communicator might be, only it was just his shirt. It worked just as well. Energetic lights dissolved him and took him away.
“Youth these days,” Fribourg said. “It’s like they have no sense of responsibility or ethics.”
“What about the ethics of the fathers?” Jon asked. “Good point,” Fribourg said. “Enjoy!”
Fribourg used his own spell and disappeared, the way only a Tulpa can. Jon was curious if Fribourg had escaped into Timothy’s mind and wonderlands, or to his own. He didn’t dwell on it long, but even as he tried to break free of his bonds, he stewed. Not only could he not move, but he couldn’t even summon up a levitation spell. That puzzled him. His mind was working and so he should be able to do the spell, unless the body he was occupying had blocks in place, or Fribourg had placed additional layers of blocking spells. In some ways, he felts as if he were tied and weighted down, but it felt different than ropes. It felt more like sleep paralyses.
Jon decided there was only one thing he could do. He called for help. “Loxy, I need you?!” Jon called.
Tulpa Loxy arrived in the room straight away, looking around for Jon. She turned to the body of Timothy, stepped closer, and then looked into his eyes. He felt trapped in a POV film, only not the good, erotic kind. “Jon? How did you get in there?”
“Fribourg,” Jon said.
“Really? He’s alive?” TL asked. “I thought he got eaten by a monster and then spaghettified by the event horizon of a black hole.”
“Some ignoramus, twerp of a kid created a Fribourg Tulpa and switched out, and then Fribourg summoned me and switched out,” Jon said.
“The kid in the wheel chair, I presume,” Loxy said. “Yeah,” Jon said.
“Oh, Jon, you can’t call him a twerp. He’s in a wheelchair,” LT said. “Um, I get the sense he is a real twerp,” Jon said.
“Jon, practice love. He is a soul, trapped in a body, and probably lonely, and frustrated,” LT said. “Imagine all those teenage male hormones coursing through the body and no way to relieve the energy.”
“You’re not helping me,” Jon said. “And can you switch clothes to something more nun-ish?”
LT put her hands on her hips. “Do you remember your crush on Sally Field and Julie Andrews?” TL asked.
“Okay, forget the nun thing. Can you get me out?” Jon asked.
LT pursed her lips, thinking it through. “This is a bad game of hot potato,” Loxy said. “The only way to free you is for you to switch with me.”
“No. Unless we can figure out an alternative, the games ends here,” Jon said. “Nonsense, Jon. You’re a host personality. I am a tulpa. Your life has priority over mine,” LT said.
“No, it doesn’t. We have equal value,” Jon said.
“No, if you die, I die, therefore, you have priority. If you live, you can recreate me,” LT said.
“Or, how about we figure out how to get me out without switching, so we can both live together,” Jon said.
Loxy agreed to consider alternatives. “We could put the body in a comatose state, which would allow you to leave,” LT said.
“Yeah. I am not able to access that part of the brain,” Jon said.
LT leaned in close, staring and scrutinizing. She retrieved a medical device from her pocket and shined a light into his eyes. She took the device around his head, listening to the sound variation, which were too subtle for Jon to decipher. “Wow. Fribourg wired you in good and tight. Oh, but then, he is a master rigger. I always liked being tied up by him.”
“Is that a sonic screw driver?” Jon asked, ignoring the tied up part. “Yeah,” LT said. “The Doctor gave me one. Do you like it?”
“Which Doctor?” Jon asked.
“Not a which, a who,” LT said. “You know what I mean,” Jon said.
“I do, but that never gets old, does it. I’m traveling with Jenny,” LTsaid. “Jenny who?” Jon asked
“Exactly!” LT said.
“My Jenny?!” Jon asked.
“Your Jenny? My Jenny,” LT said.
“Our Jenny isn’t technically a Doctor,” Jon argued.
“She is the daughter of the Doctor and has all of his memory from the time of her conception genetically written in her, and so, it kind of entitles her to being an honorary Doctor,” LT said. “Oh, and I did have an opportunity to travel with the guy with the scarf.”
“Collin Baker?” Jon asked. “Yeah, you loved him,” LT said.
“No, I loved Perry Brown,” Jon said.
“Me, too!” LT said. “Also, the Peter Cushing Doctor invited me for trip.”
“Admiral Tarkin from Star Wars?” Jon asked.
“Yeah, I can’t get past that, either, and I found the way he was looking at me creepy, and I just couldn’t hold the love because of the whole Alderan fiasco. So, Jenny was safe, and I know her through you, and well, she and I have really hit it off.”
“Okay, so you’re traveling with Jenny in your spare time?” Jon asked.
“Yeah. She needed a companion who could keep up with her,” Lt said. “As much as she likes you, you’re not really a runner.”
“I don’t suppose she could come collect Timothy’s body,” Jon said.
“No. This is a fixed event in time. His body goes up with Miami,” LT said. “Besides, it’s not really me traveling with Jenny, but the real Loxy is traveling with Jenny, but I get to hold her memories. Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t we create a servitor to switch places with you?”
“That might work,” Jon said.
LT pulled an item out of her pocket that at first glance looked like a makeup case.
Touching the compartmentalize colors caused the colors to light up and the mirror revealed a virtual screen. A figure appeared beside her, coalescing out of the nothingness.
“Please state the nature of the medical emergency,” said the medical hologram. “We can’t use him,” Jon said.
“We can’t use the real him, but we can use a non-sentient facsimile of him,” LT said.
“I have feelings attached to him, so I don’t think we can ethically proceed with this,” Jon said.
“I assure you, I am well equipped with ethical protocols and can function within the contextual confines of any medical emergency,” the hologram said. “Please state the nature of the emergency.”
“The world is about to end and Jon is trapped in a 19 year old, Caucasian male’s paraplegic body that is not his own. We want you to switch places with him, allowing his personality to escape the pending disaster,” LT said.
“I am doctor, not a shaman. If you want someone to deal with possessions, you should have called a priest or a witch,” the hologram said.
LT retrieved another kit from her pocket, sorted through the crystals, and pushed one into the holograms forehead, updating his program.
“What?!” the hologram began to protest, but then relaxed. “Oh, you require me to perform life support functions while the host is away.”
“Exactly,” LT said.
“I can do that,” the hologram said, and sat down into the body.
Jon fell out the other side. He immediately got up and hugged LT. “Thank you. What was in that crystal you gave him?”
“Contextual compliance upgrades. I anticipated needing a servitor,” LT said.
“This is interesting,” the hologram said through Timothy’s body. “I think can I repair the malfunction.”
“That’s great,” Jon said.
“When does the bomb drop?” LT said.
Jon considered. “That’s weird. We should be able to hear the mad ramblings of the world going crazy. I don’t even hear a whisper. So I don’t know.”
“That is strange,” LT agreed.
“Timothy was excluded from the telepathic wave and is presently isolated in a zone of silence,” the hologram said. “This is not unexpected. The present culture he resides in has a way of not seeing the handicapped, which means Timothy’s disability has saved him from mass telepathic wave front like a cloak of invisibility. Wait a minute. Stand by. Accessing. Accessing. I am not sure I like this Timothy person. I want to switch back, please.”
“You’re a Doctor. How can you not like a paraplegic?” LT asked.
“Wait a minute, how can he have a feeling if he’s not sentient?” Jon asked. “You must have imbued sentience on him with your emotional attachment to the holographic Doctor,” LT said.
“Great. I can’t leave him in this situation,” Jon said.
“Thank you. Switch back, please,” the hologram said.
Jon went to switch places but LT grabbed his arm. “Hold up. You have to survive this.”
“I am not switching out just so someone else suffers a fate that I am scared of,” Jon said. “Then, let’s do some magic and bring Timothy back to face his fate,” LT said.
“And how is that ethical?” Jon asked.
“His body, his crime,” the holographic doctor said. “What crime?” Jon and LT both asked.
The hologram made the crimes available to them. Both Jon and LT gripped each other, closing their eyes as they sorted through the experience. Timothy was a huge kid. At 16 he was six foot and 200 pounds and he was the star of his high school football team. He was also a rapist. His mother, a single mother, an alcoholic, was often so drunk that she couldn’t fight her son off. The occurrence of them having sex was so often that even when she wasn’t drunk, she just played drunk to get the experience over with. It also turned out Timothy was diddling his younger sisters. The youngest was mentally retarded, and so it didn’t take effort, because once she was sexualized she wanted it all the time and would often just come to his room. The other, well, she fought. It happened only once with her. And, when he was sleeping, she went into his room with a baseball bat and beat the crap out of him. That’s how he became a paraplegic.
“So, we bring him back and he sits this out,” LT said.
“His crimes were awful, but they’re not worthy of a death sentence,” Jon said.
“He became a Tulpamancer so that he could kill and rape people remotely,” the hologram said.
“And discovered tulpamancy doesn’t work that way. Wanting to kill people isn’t the same as killing people,” Jon said.
“But if he created tulpas to rape and kill, then that is a crime,” LT said. “I agree. But I am not a court or an executioner,” Jon said.
“Jon, we can’t stay here and debate this,” LT said. “This is Timothy’s body and his plight. He needs to come back here.”
“I agree that we don’t have time to sort this here. So, how about we take Timothy’s body, with the Doctor in it, back to planet Bliss, and we will sort it out there,” Jon said.
“How is that fair, that he escape his fate?” the hologram said.
“There is no fairness, Doctor. You can’t undo a rape. And you can’t rape the perpetrator and call it even,” Jon said.
“But you could lock him up and prevent future rapes,” the hologram said.
“And since the three of us agree that tulpas are real, and deserve ethical treatment, how do you deal with a mind that creates tulpas and scenarios to rape and kill?” Jon asked. “We’re not thought police. And if locking someone up, and by all evidence, Timothy was locked and bound better than any prison, it hadn’t changed him for the better.”
“Are you wanting to change him?” LT asked.
“I want to table that discussion, get us out of this predicament, and deal with the other stuff later,” Jon said.
“You’re right,” LT said.
Jon went to open the door in order to have an archway to create a portal. His hand went through the door. He turned to LT for an ex