Chapter 10
They turned and walked briskly away from the gate. The path wound its way across a flat desert comprised of sparkling, white sands- compliments to an unspecified amount of Parrot Fish pooping out dead coral. It wasn’t pure white. There was evidence for grain sized emeralds and rubies, as if glitter had been mixed into the sands. They followed the gold path. Jon was shivering noticeably, holding the torch slightly out and away from his thigh. Heidi held onto his arm. There was no visible evidence of life going forwards, no bugs, no plants. Behind them the sands gave way to dunes and sparse patches of grass.
“You okay?” Heather asked eventually asked.
Jon seemed to focus. Their pace slowed. He nodded, freed his arm, and returned the Torch to its pocket.
“You’re more athletic than I remember,” Heather said.
“I am not,” Jon said.
Heather frowned at him. “You just took on…”
“I got lucky,” Jon said. “One hit from a tail would knock me unconscious. One claw could disembowel me or cut off my head. One bite, I could lose a head or a limb or a third of my torso. I was lucky. I also had a Torch and smart clothes. Projectile weapons are practically useless. Even if you get several good kill shots, the creature’s momentum could kill you, or its body continues on autopilot and kill you before it drops.”
“All of that may be but I saw you…”
“You saw my body,” Jon said.
“Explain,” Heather said.
“The Torch is a psychic amplifier. It is sentient in its own way, but it only expresses itself through the use of its welder. It finds identity though the user. I, Jon, am not a fighter. I have trained some in Wu Wei Gung Fu, but I am hardly worth the orange belt I was awarded. I do, however, know some superior fighters. I merge with the Torch, we become one, and I solicit a person who can command my body to do what needs to be done.”
“So, you’re telling me what? You channeled Bruce Lee?” Heather said, jokingly.
“Jackie Chan,” Jon said.
Heather stopped. He stopped with her. She seemed amused.
“For real?”
“If you’re going to channel a great warrior, it is best he is tempered with humor and compassion,” Jon said.
“For real, you just summoned Jackie Chan and say take over?”
“It depends on your perspective. Neurosciences will not accept Jung’s Collective Unconscious. I submit the collective unconscious is real, and you have access to every person and personality in all of existence. But, let’s just stick with plain old reductionist science. It’s just a brain. The brain is a computer that simulates reality. The brain is superior at simulating personalities. Every person you have ever met is in your brain. Everyone you have read about, or watched on television- they are characters modeled inside your brain. That’s how you know when an actor break character- which is sometimes funny, but most people get annoyed when a person breaks character, or breaks from their script. Breaking scripts is the main reason why families have so much discord- the drama is geared to keep agents in their role. I have an internal relation with Jackie Chan. I didn’t summon him. I invited him. He responded. He is one my go to persons.”
“How many people do you have in your head?” Heather said.
“Legions,” Jon said. “But I depend on a core team. First team is five. The second team is seven. Loxy is one of five. She is primary. She is not part of the seven, but she goes with me when I spend time with the seven.”
“The invisible counselors you were speaking of? You have multiple personality disorder?”
“You can call it that if you like. It’s technically not a disorder. This is normal human functioning. The people who think they are individuals are the ones with the disorder. We are one. We do not exist in a vacuum. Our perceived isolation through space-time is an illusion. I am one with the path. I am one with the air. I am one with the trees that give me the air and they in turn drink in my breath. Come on. Let’s walk.”
They continued on the Path. Heather was lost in thought barely seeing the terrain.
“Loxy is the Torch’s personality?”
Jon gave a half ass nod. “It’s complicated.”
“So the perfect woman is a weapon?” Heather said. She meant it as a joke. Jon seemed to be considering.
“Technically,” Jon said, agreeing with her in measure. “From a purely academic, archetypal position, women are chaos. They are water and air.”
“I don’t like that assertion,” Heather said. “We are the bearers of life…”
“Life comes from chaos. In the beginning, there was darkness- then light, then the waters were separated. Life is a series of destruction and construction. Life emerged from the oceans. Babies must pass through the waters of life to greet the air, and the waters of the womb reflect the oceans we spawned from. I didn’t come up with this stuff. You will find this theme is consistent between cultures and time. Except for ours, because our culture is so bent on cultivating confusion that it’s willing to throw out the baby and the bathwater. It absolutely protest all forms of masculine energy. It won’t accept any positive measure without pointing out how it limits human beings. Human beings have limits. Humanity has limits. The ideal system that promotes longevity imposes limitations by its very philosophy. I am a slave not because I am unworthy and trodden on, but because I chose this hard path. I want to improve. I would like others to improve, but it’s not my job to tell others to grow up. In fact, doing so can be counterproductive. Tell an angry man to calm down, you get clobbered. My only job is to improve me. When I heal, the world heals. When I try, the world tries. When I succeed, the world succeeds.”
Heather didn’t comment. She seemed perplexed. Jon stopped their progress.
“Where are you?” Jon asked.
“I am thinking…”
“Stop. Where are you?” Jon asked.
“On Mars?” Heather said.
“You say with a question? Zoom in. Where are you?”
“I am in a cave?”
“Again with the question. Where are you?”
“I am in a cave,” Heather said.
“And yet you’re breathing blue skies? Do you see blue skies?” Jon asked.
“Yeah, I have been meaning to ask about that…”
“Same above, same below,” Jon said.
“I don’t like religious…”
“I hate dogma, too,” Jon said. “Church of Christ, Baptist, and Jehovah Witnesses beat the hell out of me with dogma and seriously impeded my advancement. And then I discovered, there are layers. It’s all parables and metaphors. The pyramids are power plants, the equivalent of the free energy towers Tesla was going to give the world. Tesla is Prometheus, stealing fire from the Gods, and was severely punished for trying to give it to man. This story has been repeated over and over. Moses didn’t create the Ark of the Covenant, just as the Egyptians didn’t build the pyramids. And the story of Noah and Moses is older than Moses, even older than Gilgamesh. Ancient Egypt was older than Atlantis. In those days, everyone had free electricity, and tech. They were superior in mind, partly because of augmentation, but also because they held relationships with higher dimensional beings. Modern man has lost the connection to the divine, the sense of other. And someone, Moses if you like, stole tech and left because they didn’t like whatever it was that was being imposed on them. The Ark, and the energy source inside it, was stolen. A power so immense it could drop enemies without physically engaging them. It could part oceans and people walk on dry land. GOD is an acronym for Guardian of Doors. I submit to you, you don’t even need an Ark. Doors are everywhere. God is everywhere. The Force is with you, always. Where did they go when they left Egypt?”
“Israel,” Heather said.
“No, they went to the desert,” Jon said. “Where are we?”
“In a cave,” Heather said.
“In the desert. On a narrow, crooked path,” Jon said.
“Why can’t we just go straight to where we need to be?”
“Lightening never takes a straight path,” Jon said. He started them forwards. “Loxy gave me that. The Kabbalah. The Ancient Hindu Texts. The Buddhist texts. They tell us the same story. Because the story is always the same. ‘The Wizard of Oz’ is the same story. ‘Star Wars’ is the Wizard of Oz. ‘Joe Vrs the Volcano’ is the same story.”
Heather laughed. “I was actually thinking of that when you said lightening doesn’t take a straight path.”
“You’ve seen it?”
“We weren’t allowed to watch television, but my parents would allow to us watch some movies, and this one slipped under their radar. I don’t think they were even aware of all the hidden metaphors. Like the path to work being the same as the one to the top of the volcano.”
“And the lightening,” Jon said. She looked at him. “The lightening took the same path. The pattern was also the company logo. When Mr. Graynamore broke Joe’s wall with his cane, the pattern was there. We arrive through movement. Our world has it backwards. They want to fix emotions first, then thoughts. You fix behaviors first, and thoughts will follow, and emotions will follow that. We move forwards through walking.”
“You are definitely preachy,” Heather said.
Jon nodded.
“Living with you would be like living with Yoda,” Heather said.
“Baby Yoda,” Jon said.
“You wish,” Heather said.
“Yeah. I make cute babies,” Jon said.
Heather smirked. “Really? You have babies?”
“At least one. I found myself in another life in another world. It was a really strange place,” Jon said.
“Was I there?”
“Actually,” Jon said. “And you and I are still doing the same dance.”
“Does it ever work out for us?” Heather asked.
“It always works out,” Jon said.
“I am hungry,” Heather said.
Jon reached into his pack and pulled out a nutrition bar, with chocolate and peanut butter. He seemed unhappy about it as he handed it to her.
“Are you okay?”
“I am just jealous,” Jon said. “Every time I say I am hungry, I pull out carrots, or a boiled egg, or almonds. You get chocolate covered peanut butter. It’s not fair.”
She offered it back.
“Yours,” Jon said.
“I want to share it,” Heather said.
He shook his head. “Thank you. It’s for you,” he said. “I have plenty.”
“What else do you have in there?” Heather asked.
Jon handed her the bag without taking it off. She discovered it was empty. It squashed in her hand, and a search inside revealed nothing. She even tried to turn it right side out. Jon reached in, brought out a container of water, drank from it, and then put it back into the bag. It went away.
“How do you do that?” Heather said.
“I am further along on the path,” Jon said.
“We’re at the same place,” Heather said.
“I doubled back so you weren’t alone,” Jon said.
“Were you alone?” Heather asked.
“We are never alone,” Jon said.
“Your first time, were you alone?” Heather said.
“I had my Torch,” Jon said.
“Your staff and your rod,” Heather said.
“Pretty much,” Jon said.
“So, is this the valley of the shadow of death?” Heather asked.
“No. This is a desert,” Jon said. “Our entire mortal life is the valley. That’s why so hard to see infinity down here.”
“Yoda.”
निर्मित
They came upon the Orchard. Either side of the path was lined with a variety of trees in specific patterns. The closest trees gave a canopy of leaves to walk under, which was nice respite from the heat of the white sands. The gate behind them was on the cusp of two ‘worlds’ that didn’t seem to go together. As they walked, Heather thought she saw people in the forest, always hiding. She saw movement in the trees above, but saw nothing when she looked directly. The trees were a mixture of fruit and seed bearing trees. There were pine trees interspaced, and pine cones and pine needles littered the ground. The Path was always free of debris. The grass immediately around the path was always cut. There was the smell of fruit, fresh and rotting. There were bees and squirrels. A deer and fawn spied them and continued on, unconcerned.
“This place is spooky,” Heather said.
“It just feels that way because we’re being watched,” Jon said.
Heather got closer to him. She forced herself not to scream as a creature came out of the forest, approaching them. The creature was female, and had a mixture of human and reptilian features. She came forward on her tail, like a snake- her feet hovering just off the ground. From a certain angle, she may have been seen as floating. When she arrived, she set her feet down and stood on her legs. If not for the tail, she might have passed for human. The forward part of her face seemed to lack scales; they might have been simply too small to detect. She had small, diamond freckles. What Heather presumed to be a hood, turned out to be just the folds of skin, as if she were a cobra head, loosely folded over her. She had fine feathers running the length of her arm, but dread like hairs on the back of her ‘hood,’ that could stand and independently move about, giving her the appearance of floating.
“Female frite?” Heather whispered.
“Female,” the creature said. “Hu-man.”
“Fuck me,” Heather said.
“I am not interested in female human,” the creature said. She came forwards on her feet, awkwardly. “You. I smelled you before.”
“Dalidá,” Jon said.
“You remember me?” Dalidá said, cooing. Her breast expanded a cup size. “You have passed this way four times now? Are you failing to evolve?”
“Shouldn’t your tail be smaller?”
She puffed up her bosom and put her shoulders back. Her hood fanned out, making her head bigger the way a cobra would if threatened. If she were closer, she might have kicked with both feet like a kangaroo. The tip of her tail shook like a rattler, but made no noise.
“I am the Frite of the forest,” Dalidá said. “This is my domain. I will never leave it.”
“Your sisters have left?” Jon asked. “Do you miss them?”
Dalidá spit. “Traitors.” She came forwards, her feet barely off the ground. Heather backed up. Dalidá stopped and stared at her, and on accepting that Heather was not threatening, her hair relaxed. She came into contact with Jon. She petted him with arms. A leg came up around him. The tip of her tail encircled a foot, and into the trouser leg. She smelled his ear, and her hair caressed him. She closed her eyes as she inhaled, taking inventory, smiling. Resting her forehead against his, she cupped his face with her hood.
“If you linger, you could bring me to season,” Dalidá said.
“I cannot do that,” Jon said.
Dalidá’s hood flared as she grabbed him up, hugging him fiercely with arms and legs. She kissed him, forcing her tongue deep into him. “I could make you come to season,” she said. “I could hold you here forever.”
“Put him down!” Heather said, stepping forwards.
She retreated, carrying Jon, but Heather advanced and took hold of his arm. Dalidá let go and retreated. Heather pulled Jon back and stepped in front of him.
“He belongs to me. Back off,” Heather said.
“I am the Frite of the Forest. He is mine to take. He still owes me a debt for eating my fruit,” Dalidá said. “You have no authority here. You are not Frite. You are not nothing. Not even food..”
“Mine,” Heather said.
Dalidá lowered her head. “We could share. My sisters and I used to share everything.”
“You’re lonely,” Heather said.
Dalidá’s appearance change, and she became almost invisible, matching the tree behind her. She retreated, disappearing into the forest like sunlight dappled through leaves then gone.
“We should hurry on,” Jon said.
“I think I can take her,” Heather said, proud of herself.
“You cowed her. At this stage, she is governed more by fear than courage. She could kill you. The other problem is, she is not the only lonely. If she convinces them they could be brought to season by one male indefinitely, and that she is willing to share, I will die.”
“You made it through the Forest of Frites four times?”
“The first time on a stretcher,” Jon said. “I got lucky.”
“How lucky?” Heather said.
He hurried their pace.
निर्मित
The next gate took them to the edge of a village with a city in the background. The city was surrounded by villages, with a variety of structures from mud hardened buildings to grass huts amongst stone temples. There were Giant Redwood trees running the periphery of the city, with homes in them, perched like treehouses on adjoining limbs, hanging like winging nests, and carved directly into the tree in ways that did not kill the tree. The city was not the ruins of bygone era, but active stone temples with beings attending, offering services- and centers of commerce. The architecture and accompanying art were a mixture of designs from Greek, Egyptian, and Aztec. They were pristine, with the highlight of the city being gold top pyramids, and rows of obelisks interspaced with trees and reflecting ponds. There was a bazar was clearly trading stones, crystals, and food- but there were the promise of artifacts and magic deeper in the labyrinths. There was a river, with channels diverting water to each of the three pyramids. The river flowed in and disappeared into the base of each. There was Sphinx like creature, which was clearly a Fritten, the body of a lion, the head of a seal, and the barb tail of a sea serpent. It represented their potential. Most of the beings here were reptilians. There were others; non terrestrial, non Sol- system beings. There were humans. The reptilians all had varying degrees of tails. Most of the reptilians were females. Very few reptilian males walked the villages or the inner cities, and those that did seemed attached to a particular female. There were males sitting out in the field, as if meditating. They faced away from the city. They kept their space from each other. As Jon and Heather approached the village, they were met by five females, and one male. The male remained behind, observant, but didn’t contribute to the conversation. They wore simple cloth robes, and jewelry that glowed.
“Seeker,” one of them said. “Did you see my sister, Otah?”
“I did not,” Jon said.
“How about Metta?” another asked.
“We encountered the one known a Dalidá,” Jon said.
They frowned. One stepped back. The male seemed agitated, as if there was a nearby threat that it couldn’t identify.
“We have heard rumors she is more serpent than Fallon. She has taken to the trees and her legs have atrophied,” the first said. “I don’t believe you met her. She would have consumed you.”
“She has legs. She can stand. She can walk, sort of,” Jon said.
“You lie,” this first one said.
This encounter was interrupted by an older Fallon, one who had no tail. She motioned for the others to disperse, but they argued they did not receive any gifts from the Seeker. The elder explained his debt was paid, move on. They departed, grumbling, and the Elder greeted Jon with ‘Namaste’ hands, and then met Heather with the same greeting. Her words were not English, but there was a clear translation available to them in their minds, compliments of Eos. She introduced herself as Andera.
“Seeker and stranger. I did not expect you to arrive before nightfall. You remember the path well, Jon,” she said. “It is delight to experience your radiance. You are in harmony with our city. You are always welcome here, my friend.”
“Thank you for greeting us, my light and friend. You are always kind to me, and I would linger longer if I did not fear abusing your generosity,” Jon said, returning the gesture. “This is my friend, Heather. We’re on the Path. We seek passage through the darkness.”
“Come, I will escort you back to the beginning,” Andera said.
Andera led them towards the city. They passed under a gate and were suddenly in the middle of the city. They crossed over a reflecting pool, stepping on stones. Giant orange and gold colored carp followed in masses, hoping to be fed. As if the air was a mirror, there were humming birds that revolved around them, their density and proximity varying like a cloudburst of Starlings painting the sky. The carp were a whirlwind of colors that stirred the waters, sending ripples to far sides of the pool. Bonsai and cherry trees with white and pink blossoms adorned the area. A series of gates took them to the far side of the city in spurts. They went from the outskirts to the inner city to the other side in minutes. In the distance a mountain seemed to loom, but by the time they arrived through the last gate, it was clear they were now at the side of the cave. The cave wall reached up into the blue. Directly above their heads, clouds rolled dynamically. There was rain in the distance and lightening. Savannas and Flaming Tress were visible, and herds of creatures moving across grasslands. The human eye had difficulty putting the scale together, and so things moved in surreal ways, as if the landscape and creatures were composites of separate images. They were led straight way to a tunnel. She gestured, giving them freedom to go in. Jon removed his Torch.
“Wait,” Heather said. “We’re not going to kill anything, are we?”
Jon activated the Torch- revealing it had a ‘flashlight’ mode, or as the English would say, a torch.
“Oh,” Heather said. “So it’s safe?”
Andera shrugged her shoulders. She reached out and touched Jon’s heart. She closed her eyes for a moment, simply breathing. Then she walked away, eyes closed. She walked the path, returning to the city. With eyes closed.
“How does she…”
“She doesn’t see with her eyes,” Jon said. “She isn’t navigating by sight or sound. We don’t have a word for it. It’s not echolocation, either, but they can navigate by sound as easily as a bat. They have an electrical sense like a shark. They can see your heart beat. They see auras and all the energy around both animals, trees, and rocks. Everything has light, and not just infrared heat light, but bio-photons and other, inexplicable light. These walls have crystals imbedded in them, and the pressure of the stone illuminates them.”
“I want that sense,” Heather said.
“Yeah,” Jon said.
He offered his hand to go into the darkness together.
“What’s in here?” Heather whispered.
“Female Fallons, mostly. Egg chambers. A lot of Frittens. There are some cave Frites. You mostly never encounter them. They run from visible light. They don’t like Fallons or humans, but not so much they attack on sight,” Jon said.
“And what do they eat? People?” Heather asked.
“Sometimes,” Jon said. “Mostly Frittens.”
“Seriously, Jon. I don’t like that,” Heather said.
“People eat dogs, cats, guinea pigs, horses…”
“Texas passed a law no killing horses for food,” heather said.
“All that did was increase the population of old, sick horses,” Jon said. “That and drove the French to buy horse meat from other countries.”
“Oh! I hate how off topic we always get. It’s not the point, Jon. These are not pets. They’re their babies!” Heather said.
“If not for the Cave Frites, the Frittens might not leave the nest to venture further out into the wilderness,” Jon explained. “Don’t feel sorry for the Frittens. They hatch smart. Smarter than any human teenager, and as manipulative as any six year old. The ones that fail to launch are lazy, or retarded, or destined to become Cave Frights. Really, here’s how manipulative these bastards are. They convinced all of Egypt to worship cats. If you were good to them, there was hope that when they evolved into higher beings they’d remember you and take you with them to the stars. Bottom line. They’re not human. You can’t think like a human with them. If you do, you will be consumed. Sometimes physically, sometimes emotionally. They might enslave you. They might treat you like a pet. They might milk you like a cow. They might use you for a sex toy. And not because they’re evil. They just don’t think like us. Hell, humans think like humans, and we do all of the above to each other. Also remember, they were first. They have seniority on us; if you want to hold counsel with them, you have to show them appropriate deference.”
“I am not bowing to a reptile that eats its young, regardless of how smart they think they are,” Heather said.
Jon bit his tongue. He held out his hand. She stood there defiantly, hands akimbo. He waited patiently. She frowned, took his hand, and they entered together. The initial passage was incredibly dark, even with the Torch. Tunnels branched left and right and up and down. Some were big enough for a human to walk upright. Many would require human to stoop or even crawl. Others would have been impossible.
Interspaced in through the main tunnel were arches that took up almost the entire tunnel, with small passages around the gate. They went through the first arch, and suddenly the mouth of the cave entrance was gone. Heather realized she had only imagined it being dark before. Without the light at the entrance, the Torch was blinding to look at directly; it did not penetrate far into the cave. Occasionally eyes fluoresced in the distant and were gone in a blink. They went around the second two gates and came upon an egg chamber where a Fallon was laying eggs. The floor was lined with coral sand. She was sitting on her legs, her bottom positioned over a whole swept out by hand. It looked as if she were praying. Her body rocked rhythmically, and from a certain angle, it might have looked she was engaged in sex, grinding on top of someone. Her body undulated, like a belly dancer. All her muscles were employed in moving eggs. Her hands gripped a stump she was using to keep upright. Her nails were bleeding, and there were groves in the stump- a stump polished by a million hands gripping in similar ways. Tears ran down her face.
“Is she okay?” Heather whispered.
“They don’t talk about it,” Jon said. “It seems similar to the trance the sea turtles go in. I am not sure how much they recall. It must be pretty bad. Some chose death over this.”
They watched for a while. They moved on when Heather realized Jon was waiting, not watching.
“So, the Fallons are the adults, and they lay eggs?” Heather asked.
“Frites are also capable of reproducing. They’re not as organized in protecting their eggs and so fewer Frittens survive Friteful parenting,” Jon said.
“Frittens, Frites, and Fallons,” Heather said.
“Fritten, Frites, Fallons, Farthers, and the Fortunates,” Jon said.
“The Fortunate. Wait. Fallons. The Fallon. The Fallen ones!” Heather said.
“They left garden to come toil,” Jon said. “And in their toiling, they build something greater than the individual, greater than the community. They give rise to sanctuary. They allow for personal evolution to take them to greater levels of understanding. Did you know, one of the criteria that must be met to study the Kabbalah through official channels is you need be age 40 or greater? This practice recognize human adulthood starting at age 40. It was expected that prior to forty, too much time and energy was spent playing and surviving. And if you’re curious, it was the Fortunate Ones that provided us the Kabbalah, Vedas, Upanishads, and the Egyptian and Tibetan books of the Dead.”
They passed through a portal and landed in an area where light leaked through the walls. Jon turned off the torched and they walked through the equivalent of sun beams through a canopy. A tunnel branched and opened up to the outside. Heather tried to go that way, but Jon took her arm. She turned and shoved him.
“Fuck,” Heather said. “Don’t do that.”
“I didn’t mean to startle you. We need to stay on the Path,” Jon said.
“I want to go out for a moment,” Heather said.
“That takes us back to where we started. I don’t want to keep going in circles with you and I definitely don’t want to be out there when the night cycle hits,” Jon said.
“I am going,” Heather said, and turned and walk.
“Fuck me,” Jon muttered. He nearly didn’t follow. He looked at his Torch and rolled his eyes and followed. “As if.” He said to no one there.
Heather stopped herself from exiting the cave. She was staring out at the first gate, where she and Jon had arrived on first taking to the Path. What stopped her in her tracks was the fact she was looking at herself and Jon. She couldn’t hear them speaking, but she experienced that moment in her head as if she was living it now, vicariously.
“Heather,” Jon whispered.
Heather took to his arm. “I don’t understand.”
“Space-Time is not linear. It’s not cyclical, either. It’s a liquid that runs in all directions, and pools, and… It’s an ocean spilling over unfathomable things. Traveling through portals has some weirdness that it’s hard to comprehend. Think of Space-time as a block of Swiss Cheese. The holes can take you forwards and backwards and left and right, and diagonally and don’t thi