Chapter 10
Loxy hugged him straight away. “You’re looking taller.”
Jon frowned at her. “How long do we have till LOS?”
“Don’t know yet. You’re coming in strong now,” Loxy said. There was playful edge to her tone which he didn’t catch until she said, “Really strong.” It was playful the way a wife might be with a long lost husband.
Shen glared at her, not happy about being teased. “Full staff meeting, please,
Come High,” Shen requested.
People came forwards to join the ‘Circle’ on virtual deck. Clearly, they were already in the background, waiting- watching, evaluating. It was an interesting effect, as people emerged to stand on the circle as if coming out of shadows- as if shadows were condensing to be light. The dome space was dimly lit, but not shadowy- so the evolution of shadows into people was part illusion- and that part of vision where you think you see something only to focus on it and it’s gone, or suddenly solid.
The glass dome was the source of light, as it presently reflected the nebula and stars in the background. The floor held the illuminated circle, and was reflective enough to reflect the background. Anyone and everyone was allowed on Virtual Deck. People were allowed to witness the debates and the deliberations. Sometimes non staff contributed to the conversation. The rules of virtual deck were not as stringent as the social protocols on Low. People were allowed to say what they think without repercussions, and what was discussed on High stayed on High. No one was skilled enough where that was a hundred percent, but mostly people who were inclined to share inappropriately, or lack discernment in sharing, or if they were likely to use information gained in a negative way against a person on Low, they would have restricted access. The purpose of High Conference was to make informed decisions. They had the technology that could read minds, and so they could technically try to police thoughts of anyone on the ship. They did not police; the ship’s AI was aware of the thoughts of everyone and only would intervene if thought was to lead to action. What a person thought was sacred, regardless of correctness. High Conference was a place for the sharing free thought.
The ship was essentially the Enterprise, Star Trek. Loxy was trying to rename it ‘My-Enterprise’ to distinguish it from the original series. It was not original series. It was not JJ’s reboot. This was a city state in and of itself. It was created and grown in space in consensus reality, with the primary mission focused on Jon’s evolution. It was about the captain- and being captain in this context was not necessarily the ideal spot to be in. Yes, others came to experience evolution, but only in context to the ship, the others on the ship, but primarily it was about the captain. Did drama play out on the lower decks? Sure, as not everything needed to rise to the captain’s consciousness for him to benefit.
From a metaphorical and metaphysical perspective, his ship was the primary interface for ‘Others’ to interact with him directly and indirectly, others being external entities, from fellow humans to alien species, as well as whatever sub personalities that were in his makeup, known and foreign. The inner personalities would come forth through tech interfacing with his conscious and unconscious mind; the resulting reality maps overlaid in the Astral Realms were chosen because of its significance in his life. Some people get Buddha, some get Ganesh, some get Jesus or Mohamed. He got Trek. Whatever it was about Trek, the spirit guides moving him brought this path to him and he accepted readily- he had an affinity for this world, and the vision shared with Rodenberry, not the darker visions that came after Roddenberry’s death. He was not alone in this world, as many came to this spiritual paradigm.
The ship’s command staff came forwards. They, too, were derived through what some people would call magic, some would call the collective unconsciousness, and others tech. ‘My-Enterprise’ could create matter out of nothing. This was not ‘holodeck’ matter that dissolved and went away, but solid, sustainable, undistinguishable from any other matter in the Universe. The personalities in a person’s head during dreams, they were solid people, and the computer could animate these beings and make them real. Ship computer and human brains worked together in tandem to create this reality. Prior to coming to this reality, Jon had entered Tulpamancy: Loxy was the result. He and Loxy together turned to ‘the invisible counselor technique’ established by Napoleon Hill in his book “Think and grow Rich.” Invitations were sent, they were accepted, reality evolved. Carl Jung’s Active Imagination path opened doors to new realities, and ‘the group’ solidified in unity; the complexity of them evolved to what they presently were- family.
Jackie Chan, chief of security and Master of the Arts and Chi. Carl Jung, physiatrist, head of psychiatrics and the expert in the subtle esoteric realities. Gregory House, chief of medical. Sacagawea, navigator. Uhura, communications officer. Nicola Tesla, ship’s chief engineer and metaphysician. Isis, as in Almighty Isis, spiritual advisor, presently in the form of a cat, came forwards and took the line, which was a circle. They all were in line of sight. If there were more people behind him, he was unaware of them.
“Is team Sol here?” Jon asked.
Additional people emerged from the shadows. An elderly Chinese man tapped in with his cane; his name was Lester. He was wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and coat with elbow patches. He had the beard and mustache of a Chinese magician. He generally disagreeable, but fiercely loyal. Alish, a tall, thin, green female, human in appearance, but in truth was an original tree spirit- first generation. More precisely, she was the Tulpa of a Sentient tree. The Tree had a personality of its own, but lived vicariously through it’s free wandering tulpas. Her clothing was a silk mesh allowing light to pass and as much her as a leaf was to a tree. Keera, Japanese female, wearing what could only be considered a knock-off anime ‘want-to-be’ outfit of unknown origins. It had just enough details to be allude to any number fantastically drawn characters, resulting in furiously heated debates between nerds. Fersia, human cat. Depending on what Universe you found her, she was either full cat, human furry, or a blending of human cat characteristics. She nearly rushed Jon but Keera and Lester took her arm.
“But he’s so cute! I just want to hug him,” Fersia said.
“We’re here. Clearly you have something to say. Spit it out,” Lester said.
“Unless the cat has your tongue,” Loxy said.
“I would like to,” Fersia said.
Jon raised his hands to indicate he was seriously not playful and still sorting. There was not good way to say what he wanted to say, so, using Lester’s advice, he simply said it”
“I violated the prime directive. I intervened in social affairs. People died.”
“The Prime Directive isn’t applicable in this particular circumstance,” Loxy said. She could be serious, she could be empathic and appropriate, and she was all these things, and always in the right time. She personified loving acceptance.
“I agree,” Jung said. “You’re in a pocket universe outside the parameters of what you know as reality, and outside of Fleet’s jurisdiction.”
“In other words, when in Rome…” Lester said.
“I am officer in Fleet, and where I go, the fundamental principles of our existence that guide our interaction go with me. I failed,” Jon said.
“You’re like what, all of nine?” Lester said. “We’re not holding you accountable…”
“I am not nine!” Jon snapped.
“He’s so cute when he’s angry,” Fersia said. The stare that came from Jon made her bite her lip and look down.
Jon looked to Jung. “I am fucking angry all the time. What’s wrong with me?”
“You assume something is wrong with you,” Jung said.
“You’ve never really fit in, Jon,” Loxy said. “Maybe your frustration is related to an undiagnosed autistic spectrum disorder. That would explain being adapt at wonderlands. Maybe this is an autistic fantasy, and you are exaggerating the role you need to play. Or maybe, and more likely, you were regressed in age and you hold the memories of that age from your first life, and being this young again is unlocking the emotions you had at that time in your life.”
Jon didn’t respond verbally. It was clear his eyes were tracking that as he considered. It explained his anger better than he was just unhappy with the people in the world he found himself in.
“That’s rather profound insight,” Jung said.
“Thank you, Doctor,” Loxy said.
Jon’s eyes were filling with tears. “I killed people.”
“Oh, don’t do that,” Lester said.
“Oh,” Fersia said, wanting to go hug him. She looked crossly at Lester when he took her arm again. “Don’t reward crying with hugs,” Lester said.
“Captain,” Chan said. “I know you. We know you. The last thing you want to do is go to war. If you fought, there must have been good reason for it.”
“I didn’t have to fight. I could have withdrawn, and just avoided people,” Jon offered. “You want to be a hermit?” Keera asked.
“Are there trees there?” Alish asked. “You’re not alone if there are trees there.”
He sighed. “I killed people and another completed suicide because of my failed intervention,” Jon said.
“People die,” House said. He was the same House, minus the cane and the limp and the addictions.
“You can’t take on a suicide. You may have been involved in the circumstances, nothing happens in a vacuum, but that is not yours to hold,” Loxy said.
“How is it not mine? How is not society’s? I didn’t even consider it a possibility or I would have…”
“You would have intervened, just like you intervened,” Jung said.
“I want to come home,” Jon said.
“We’re working on it…”
“If I kill myself, I wake up here, right?” Jon asked. “You make a clone, and I just come back here.”
“No,” House said. “The procedure is not that straight forward. We can clone your body, that’s easy. We can make a transporter clone in an instant. Technically, all transporter operations result in clones, original form is destroyed and consciousness is downloaded into new form. Or, if you prefer Jung’s version, your soul simply bounces to the new form.”
“Or, your body is just a receiver, and the new body tunes into channel Jon,” Tesla said. “We have superior tech. We could download a person from brain into a computer. They could clone a body using transporters, or use a template stored in memory banks- and then download the older consciousness into a younger body. From this tech’s perspective- brain is just hardware and personality is nothing more than a program that could transfer from vehicle to vehicle. From my perspective, the download process is a tuning process that aligns the crystalline structure of the brain to receive specific telemetry. DNA is essentially a crystalline radio…”
“Or that, if you like. Bottom line, none of this is a hundred percent without ritual, or preparation. If we know where a person is, and we know when their death occurs, we can be there and recover them, redirect soul to new form. You’re not even in our
Universe. Who knows where you’ll end up?” “Hell,” Lester said.
“People don’t go to hell for suicide,” House said.
“What book are you reading?” Lester asked.
“You don’t go to hell for broken arms, why would you go to hell for a broken brain?” House said.
“His brain isn’t broken. He is rationalizing ending his life,” Lester said.
“Jon?” Loxy said.
“I attempted,” Jon said.
Fersia cried, wanted to go to him, but Keera hugged her to her.
“Dumb ass,” Lester said.
“Yeah, well, you’re not here to cheer me up, so fuck you,” Jon said.
“It shouldn’t matter if we’re there. There would be emotional fall out that would send ripples across the Universe. You don’t get the privilege of being promoted to captain if you’re suicidal.”
“What the fuck do you think happens when I order the self-destruct option?” Jon asked. “What is that, murder-suicide?”
“I would like off this ship…”
“Just saying, there are time when people recognize a need for suicide…”
“You’re not there,” Loxy said. “And those times are not to be made in isolation. They require a committee of rational, thoughtful people. It requires the agreement and authorization of three souls.”
“Good luck on this ship,” Lester said.
“Take a shuttle. Tear your ass. Anyway, I don’t have a committee. I am alone here…”
“You’re never alone,” Loxy said.
“Apparently. There was an intervention. Aliens. High Tech,” Gon said.
“You made contact with the Others?” Uhura asked.
“They gave me this,” Jon held the ball up to them.
Tesla wanted to hold it, made a virtual copy. He opened up a virtual display in front of him that dissected the ball and zoomed in on internal structure. “Nice. Crystalline structure resembles a blending of diamond and pearl. Filaments of pure gold. This was either grown, or printed. It resembles the psychic amplifiers we use to increase AI telepathic signal.”
“I want to come home,” Jon said.
“You’re a magician,” Lester said. “Open a damn portal and come home.”
“You have a bag?” Keera asked.
“I don’t have my bag,” Jon said.
“Your bag isn’t magic, Jon. You are magic,” Loxy said.
“You really should talk more with the trees,” Alish said.
“Why do I feel like the lot of you are conspiring to keep me here,” Jon asked. “I want to come home.”
“You will either need to find or construct a portal,” Tesla said. “I believe we can connect a bridge between yours portal and our ship’s portal by piggy backing off yours and Loxy’s psychic bond. You might need more of these.” Tesla twirled the gift orb in his hand. “You will either need super conducting materials to create directed magnetic fields, or perhaps rotating directed intense lasers…”
“The people here have some tech, but we’re just barely out of the Bronze Age,” Jon said. “I am not likely to be making portals any time soon.”
“Then find some silver slippers,” Lester said.
“They’re ruby slippers,” Fersia corrected.
“Read more, watch less,” Lester said.
“Then you’re going to have to find a way to contact these Others,” Uhura said.
“I am interested in this Dorothy meme that was just activated,” Jung said. “Maybe this is a path you have to walk.”
“I am not fucking Dorothy Gale,” Jon said.
“Well, I should hope not,” Lester said. “She is what, all of 9 years old?”
“Not in the movie,” Fersia said.
“Jon’s nine,” Keera said.
“Why the hell did I invite ya’ll to my circle?” Jon asked.
“I have been asking that since we got here,” Lester said.
Jon turned to Isis. “Are you going to add anything?”
“Don’t yell at the Goddess,” Fersia said.
Isis meowed.
“I am not looking for Glenda,” Jon said.
“This meme is definitely activated now,” Jung said.
“Seriously,” Jon said.
“If not Glenda, how about Obi Wan?” Sacagawea offered. “I like him.”
“What?”
“You said Obi and Glenda are the same characters,” Sacagawea reminded him. “No one can tell you your path, Padawan. You’re an adult. Well, you’re nine, but where I come from you’d already be making adult decisions, and so you’re on the path to becoming. And, in the Obi-Wan’s paradigm that is true, too, because you have to start the training in childhood. Oh! You’re on the path! You needed to become a kid again to get it right. You need to walk your path, Jon.”
“Through the shadows,” Jung said. “The light is on the other side.”
“Signal loss in five…” Uhura said.
“No, I am not ready…”
Shen sat up from the tree as if waking from a dream. He stood up and begged for more. He put his head against the tree and sobbed.
Shen decided the ‘dream’ friends were right; he needed to make contact. He didn’t care if it was Other, alien, tree spirit, earth spirits, water spirits, or Jinn. Calling ‘Typsy,’ his personal Jinn, didn’t have any noticeable results; she was so magically and physically flamboyant, there would have been no doubt about response. Histrionics would be understating her presence. She was to him as Q was to Picard. She was as wondrously bizarre as a Katy Perry video. Still, he wanted contact with someone, something, and he wanted it now. He wanted contact with a being that was at his level of understanding or greater, who was also genuinely and affectionately disposed with kindness towards all beings. Especially him. This latter was a reasonable caveat when tossing miscellaneous, psychic invitations to the wind.
Lotus pose, right hand palm up resting on leg, left hand resting in right hand also palm up, and the orb resting in his left hand, gently cupped by fingers. It glowed. He closed his eyes and his sight rose to the top of the Sleeping Forest. He felt drawn there, without volition. He did not fight it. He had experienced astral redirection in the past and had never been harmed, so he trusted his inner guide to influence his experience. At least, he was hopeful he was being guided, as opposed to just being a random tourist. He almost laughed, as if tickled; “I am the planchette and the world is the Ouija board.”
Above the canopy of sleeping trees, it was a different world. If he didn’t know it was forest top, he would have thought it a grassy plain. It was a sea of leaves. There were even wheat fields in the sky. There were more animal and insect life up here than he had yet seen below the canopy. To his knowledge, very few of these creatures touched the ground- from cradle to grave, they were tree top bound. He found it too amazing to believe that the human world was so comparatively barren, when there was so much here. Birds. Reptiles. Insects. Alien creatures. Day or night, life flourished. At night, it was like Christmas. During the day, it was akin to Cameron’s Avatar. Flying reptiles, dragonish, reminded him of Anne McCaffrey’s Pern. They were the size of cats. Floating things, like balloon, tethered to trees. When they broke free they rose and popped and glittery, golden dust fell like a glitter bomb. Bat like creatures swarmed the glitter trying to eat it all. The dragons ate these guys. If any of the humans had seen the flying reptiles, then yeah, the stories of dragons would be real enough.
The thought of dragons carried him further from the forests. He found himself at sea. It was fast travel, a blur and a turning, not too unlike the movie adaptation of Doctor Strange. Columns of rocks rose from the sea. The tops of these columns were nests to full size dragons. They were lazy creatures, their wings stretched absorbing sunlight. They reminded him of walrus seals, trying to own their perches, sometimes sharing, sometimes fighting, and snuggling like a group of bats. The occasionally leapt from their perch, dove into the water, and when they emerged, they took flight carrying bottle nose dolphin sized fish, perhaps tuna. What wasn’t eaten or shared was shoved off- landing on nooks where lesser birds and reptiles had their fill, or if it the water, other fish ate. This place was full of life.
From there he saw varied landscapes. Deserts. Oceans. More variety of sea life surfacing and visible just below the sea than he could take in. A life time of categorizing wouldn’t catch a tenth of what the astral eye was perceiving. He came across a place that reminded him of Japan’s Izu peninsula. Waterfalls, natural arches, exotic plant, alien landscapes, pink lakes, and it was coming so fast he was having trouble keeping up with it. He was no longer flying, but jumping from place to place.
He surfed his visions like a kid with ADHD, going from place to place at the whisk of a thought, seeing wonders, and frightening things, and was so filled with delight, wonder, and fear that he wondered if it were all a dream. A giant, sentient plant that ate meat! It wasn’t a Venus fly trap, but tentacles would catch animals that wandered too close and drop it into a lotus where it would be digested. The open lotus was a pool of acid. There were bits and pieces still dissolving. He suspected the animal inside was a squirrel. He saw a ‘Tulpa’ squirrel- it was the spirit of the plant manifested in a way to attract more squirrels- the last thing it had eaten. It was not only an ambush predator, but it created it’s on bait based on the last thing it had eaten!
“Am I dreaming?” he asked himself. He frequently asked this and would perform reality checks.
“No,” came the voice. This was Oa. He was absolutely sure about that.
Shen was so startled, he popped out of his Astral meditation. He cursed himself for being so easily frightened. He got up and walked. He was now too ‘awake’ to return to another session. There was no apparent evidence for life above the Sleeper Trees from down here, except for the occasional fallen fire-snake. He rationalized, ‘I am on the edge of the forest.’ If they pooped or pissed, it wasn’t ‘apparently’ reaching the ground. He could not discern the top of the trees from the ground in the dark. Even if he calmed his mind and brightened the gift orb, he could not see the top. The further into the forest he went, the thicker the trees became the darker the path became. They became so huge he had to forcibly remind himself this was a tree, not a wall. There were places where it was impossible to go further, either because the tree trunk had joined with others, or the tree was that big. He had gotten lost several times, and if he hadn’t been able to minimally remote view the lake side home or the cave, he might have stayed lost.
He dreamt of Loxy. It was a normal dream, not lucid, not informative- probably just a tease.
“Can you open a portal and come to us?”
“I am not in that world,” he reminded her.
“Magic is magic. Tech is tech. And I am telling you, there is no difference between the two,” Loxy said.
On his ship, he could manifest things through replicator technology. In the more magical universes, tech was not absent, but if he wanted something, he could manifest it.
“If only I had my world war two mail bag.”
“The cloth one? With MASH on it?”
“Yeah,” Shen said.
“Is the bag magic, or are you magic?”
Shen didn’t answer. He was tired of hearing that. The ‘Secret’ was not only a lie, it was a damn lie. He relented some. Not a lie. Just not accurate. It was complicated. It was not just about the ‘I’ I think I am, but there was another deeper self who also had a vote in what happened. If one accepted neural science, the conscious experience was complete confabulation and choice was an illusion, everything experienced was hallucination. He didn’t buy that, but he did accept he didn’t have full control of everything. Even in his lucid dreams, he didn’t control every detail. If he went into a dream New York and looked up at all the windows on a building, some would be lit and some wouldn’t. Could he pick a window and say, ‘lights on’ and lights come on? Yeah, but he wasn’t in charge of every detail. Something bigger than him had him. He was the goldfish, the water was the subconscious and the bowl was the super-conscious that held it all together.
“It’s not the bag. Any arch can become a gateway to any world. You’ve done this. You’ve lived this,” Loxy said.
In another dream he found himself having returned home. Not origin home, but Second Home. There were many strangers in his house, and they were watching television. Loxy took his arm and they went to the couch and sat. What they were watching was his own life on television.
“I died and this is a life review?”
“The others are still sorting you, through Oa,” Loxy said. She ‘shushed’ him.
“This is one of my favorite parts.”
On the screen was a woman on a death bed. She was cursing him, reminding him he was never loved, never wanted, and yet he lingered, offering only kindness. His only reprieve came when she slept. In those moments, he quietly and tearfully nursed his wounds.
“Seriously? This is a horrible scene. I wanted to speed her own her way,” Shen said. His thoughts were part of the movie. They were layered and hidden, requiring additional tech- like ear phones or glasses that revealed layered captions. If he gave into the layers, he would have been mesmerized by the inner dialogue and the depth and complexity it ran. What arrived at the surface of his inner thoughts was hardly a tree compared to the root system that gave rise to it.
“You responded only with kindness. What you thought was well hidden,” Loxy said.
He cried. The scene wasn’t over. There was a nurse that was attracted to him, partly because of the kindness he showed to his mother, and partly because she noticed he was hurting. Co-dependence is a real thing; it was a better defined term than anything in the DSM V, and yet, not included because one can’t throw a pill at co-dependence. The DSM V, after all, is about making money. The proof of that is, they don’t give the book away for free. There isn’t an online digital reference freely available to all that can be shared worldwide and updated as easily as Wikipedia, as opposed to having to print out new copies every-time it’s updated. It is a contrived artifact of the gatekeepers is wish to hold power over their domain.
The nurse flirted, he accepted, the sex was mutual, but it was dishonest. He was not interested in her in anyway other than a quick fuck. It was also a fun fuck, in terms they had to find ways to be clever, as she was fucking him on shift- and likely violating her own board’s ethics. It was always fast and furious and ranged from lavatories, to closet, and even in a room with a guy in a coma. There were promises to meet outside of the hospital, to grow a relationship, but he ghosted her.
“It was hot while it lasted,” Loxy said.
“I lied to keep the sex going,” Jon said.
“I know. I am pretty sure everyone knows. Even she,” Loxy said. Her inner captions were not available in this movie version. “If you want a frank analysis, neither one of you were ready for a relationship. You were at risk of distance pursuer relationship. She was on the rebound. You were in the beginnings of your own trauma recovery. She overstepped her professional boundaries. You overstepped your personal boundaries. There are lots of things you can find wrong in this interaction pattern. You can find a lot of human things in this interaction pattern. It ultimately wasn’t person centered, life affirming and relationship growing. It also wasn’t completely evil. It was, for lack of something better, just human. Both of you were selfishly motivated, but you both offered moments of kindness, respect, and love. Was it sustainable? No. But both of you knew that on a deeper level and you ignored that. If both of you walked away from that with greater understanding of self and other, then that interaction was beneficial. If either of you walk away hating the other or all people of the opposite gender, you’ve not learned what you contracted with each other to learn. All interactions are subconsciously contractual.”
“You always find good ways to see me,” Shen said.
“I love you. You are sometimes cloaked in shadows. I am not afraid of the dark. I will go through the shadow to get to the inner light,” Loxy said. “You’re full of light.” Shen wiped his eyes. She kissed him.
“Jung?” Shen asked.
“Variation,” Loxy agreed. “Truth is truth.”
“Though I walk through the shadow into full darkness, your rod and staff strengthen me,” Shen said.
“Oh,” Loxy said, kissing him again and hugging him close.
Shen learned to walk in the night without clicking, using just the orb, unlit in his hand. If he focused on the orb, he could light it up, bright enough it illuminated his hand. It never became too hot to hold. Holding it made skies blue even at night. The blue light was not like blue skies, though, but was more like sustained lightening. He became aware of ghost in the forest. Some challenged him and disappeared. Some flirted with him, drawing him further into the forest. Inevitably the ghost led him to or away from particular trees. They were Awakened Sleeping Trees, but the ghosts were not tree tulpas. He suspected the Trees were simply host to the ghosts, not actually Tree consciousness personified. Touching the tree led him into the inner life of the tree. Each tree would open up to him revealing a hidden oasis, a world beyond the wardrobe. Some of these hidden places were populated only by animals. Some had people. On one occasion he approached a camp fire and was able to talk to the people. He was invited to sit with them and eat. He recognized one of the girls as one of participants in his first Sleeping tree ceremony.
“I remember you. You…”
“I didn’t want to go back,” she said. “That place is so hard. This place… Well, you see it for yourself. Stay with us. You’re welcome here.”
Shen withdrew. He found another tree and e