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| Ghama-2, An Afterlife Story by Richard Riverin This book is a work of fiction. Places, events, and situations in this story are purely fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental. © 2006 Richard Riverin. All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author. ISBN: 1-4033-4938-X (e) ISBN: 1-4033-4939-8 (sc) ISBN: 1-4033-4940-1 (dj) Printed in the United States of America Bloomington, Indiana This book is printed on acid-free paper. 1stBooks – rev. 03/21/05 Contents Prologue: P.4 Glossary: P.12 Chapter 1: P.14 First contact Chapter 2: P.27 John in mission to Pakistan Chapter 3: P.61 Joan the librarian Chapter 4: P.68 The seduction Chapter 5: P.84 The auction Chapter 6: P.130 The destruction of the world Chapter 7: P.158 The awakening Chapter 8: P.202 Down to the valley Chapter 9: P.213 Spaceship Endeavour - Year 2254 Chapter 10: P.237 New Alexandria Chapter 11: P.260 The reception Chapter 12: P.289 The visit of the town Chapter 13: P.302 The first mass Chapter 14: P.326 The awakening of George’s group Chapter 15: P.359 George’s group trek Chapter 16: P.377 The bugs Chapter 17: P.396 Satan and God’s encounter About the author P.418 Prologue Most people believe in the presence of God. After all, the more we know about the complexity of the universe and the more we realize that it just couldn't have happened without God's help; therefore the conclusion that God does exist. But then what does He look like? Was He created too? No, for sure, God is God, He always was and He will always be. That means no beginning! If we agree to that then we must also conclude that He has always created, modified, and enhance the universe. Otherwise he would have sit forever doing nothing and after an infinity of zillions of years doing nothing He would suddenly change and start to create... That is so farfetched that it would take an imbecile to believe it. It would be more probable that He would have found a way of killing Himself! Who could stand an eternity of idleness? Let's say He waited 100 years after His beginning then the universe would be an infinity of time less 100 years, since God had no beginning. That means the Universe too has been there forever, it had no beginning; it was always there, just as God was always there. But then, could the Universe as we know it be the same as it was a zillion zillions years ago? That would mean that God has done nothing for a zillion zillions years? No for sure, that couldn't be. The universe has to be changing, evolving; and it may be changing as per God's will. Billions, zillions of stars, billions, zillions of galaxies made out of billions of stars are moving, as new matter is being created. These stars like our sun have planets gravitating around them and for some of the stars; there are planets gravitating at just the right distance to sustain life. 4 Protozoa, algae, fishes, plants and eventually mammals will evolve on these planets leading to sentient species. Some of these species intelligent as they may be will never think about the possible presence of God, will never even develop sentiments like love and compassion. Most of them will never wonder about the possibility of life on other worlds and will never have the curiosity to try to get there. Mankind might be a rare species; we might have such rare potential that great beings might be trying to help us in our evolution. Can you imagine a species of intelligent ants capable of dreaming, of loving, capable of hate and compassion? Praying for an afterlife in Heaven? Over an infinity of time, in an infinite universe, is it impossible that we would be the only ones? The only species ever to be capable of these emotions? For sure, there has been great civilizations before us and some of them were utterly destroyed; at least in their initial form, corporeal form. Some of the stars are exploding in supernova giving birth to a destructive wind of super energy that reaches at light speed the neighboring stars systems scouring all life from their life sustaining planets over a distance of hundreds, thousands of light years; millions of planets burned to cinder and some of them inhabited by sentient and hoping species and it is possible that some of those species having reached a high level of evolution, having built great civilizations were destroyed in a flash of irradiation. That is only a theory but a highly probable one for we have already discovered the super novas. Does it mean that God is evil? That He doesn't care for those species? It is impossible to guess for God is probably not like us and we are probably not created to His image. We are 5 the result of an evolution that took place on Earth under certain climatic conditions. Would there be other species, sentient species like Mankind? It is an inevitable conclusion that there have always been civilizations that have evolved all over the infinite universe. Even if there would be only one life sustaining planet for a million stars, one that would give birth to a sentient species over a period of a billion years of evolution, we come to the conclusion that a million of different sentient species are either living now or have been living and evolving inside each galaxy and there are an infinite number of galaxies! Some must have evolve under similar conditions and resemble us quite closely. God has probably seen a great number of civilizations, maybe an infinity of them blooming to a high degree of evolution and wisdom before they were destroyed or before they found a way to achieve immortality. Each civilization might be like a grain of sand in an infinite beach but the tiny distances between those grains of sand is so enormous compared to the size of our planet that we are likely to believe that we live alone in our galaxy. We humans are so tiny that we are totally invisible to a far away observer, for whom our stars are the atoms from which are made the matter of his world. And yet, powerful beings, God Himself perhaps are helping us in our evolution. Each one of us wonders and hopes for the presence of God, we wish for His approval and we dream of a great afterlife in return for our good actions. Can you imagine that God listens to the prayers of billions of individuals from zillions of species all across the infinite universe? That He listens to the prayers of even those individuals from species that have 6 not reached maturity yet and are bound to self destroy in a short term? I have very good reasons to believe so. Somehow we are probably all important for God's grand plan. We might be pieces of a grand chess game, potential soldiers in a war between our kindly God and a devilish one. There might be more than one God or one God and one Demon of equal power; possibly a species of compassionate Gods and a species of evil ones are fighting each other over the universe; the first one working on establishing order and peace over a beautiful universe, the other one trying to transform it into chaos. That theory is close to Hinduism. Many years ago, I drowned and experienced a separation from my body. I could see and hear the people rushing to my help, trying to find my body and save me. The very fat lifeguard was running like a gazelle underneath and I found it very funny to see him dive overboard with such spring in his legs. I felt so wonderfully good, I couldn't care less if they found me or not. As I was beatifically enjoying myself floating over the beach, I saw that the big fat lifeguard had found my body and was now bringing it to the lifeguard cabin where he intended to work me back to life. At one point, I got sucked through the cabin's roof, right back into my body and I was now coughing and feeling miserable again. After that wonderful experience, things started to happen; things that you don't want to talk about for fear of being ridiculed or even worst losing your friends. I can tell you though that I have been in contact with spirits over the years and some of them of an inhuman kind, some kind and some evil. A few times I saw miracles happen. 7 I asked myself what I would have done if the lifeguard had not rescued me. I might have ceased to exist after a short moment; the atoms of my soul might have started to disperse, my soul losing its coherence as it became subjected to certain forces. But my will to live, my satisfaction of what I was, my curiosity, my thirst for knowledge, my compassion and interest in other people might have strengthened my soul coherent bond and I might have happily started to wander everywhere, looking at the plants and the animals and I know that in such case, I would have soon become mostly interested in people. I was so utterly happy and feeling so marvelous that I wasn't submitted to impatience or any kind of negative emotions. I would have listened to people's prayers and sometimes I might have found a way to help. After a while, I would have tried to find other spirits like me, kind ones with whom I would not have minded to share thoughts and souvenirs and maybe I would have left with them for a visit of the universe. I would have visited other worlds, inhabited ones, have a look at their cities, and listen to these sentient beings' thoughts and possibly their prayers. After a long time, millions of years later perhaps, I would have returned to my home world and possibly found it empty of life. It is probable that in such case, I would have then tried to find another inhabited world, one with a species worthy of my interest, a species that would have the potential of evolving into a great civilization and I would have tried to help them creating opportunities, special occurrences for some key individuals. That might be what billions of spirits are doing right now, all across the universe. Some of the most powerful spirits might have become God's supervisors, archangels, each with special duties and some of them able to do wonders, great miracles. These super beings are probably able to speak with God. They are probably able to tell 8 God, which one of those species would have the potential of becoming helpful in turn if they got the chance to evolve to maturity. And possibly, God would chose an individual unit of that species, give it a spark of His Godliness and the mission to help his species in its evolution. His brothers and sisters would call him Atlas, Buddha, Confucius, Jesus, and Leonardo De Vinci perhaps; he would be known under many identities and described as the Son of God. People would build religions after Him, religions that would comfort people and give them hope and courage even though some people would use them wrongly to achieve personal power and wealth. The truth is unknown but all hope is possible. We are not left alone this I know, and those who deserve an afterlife and wish for it might well get it. What about Heaven, can we get an afterlife in a wonderful world where we would be all awoken in young and delightful bodies? After all an eternity of wandering around as ghosts might not be what most people are hoping for. I felt so wonderfully good while I was floating over the beach that I would not have wanted anything else. Maybe later though; as I got accustomed to my delight, I would have wanted to be with my children, my parents and my closest friends. Maybe I would have been happier in a healthy and immortal body on a strange yet delightful world where I could meet everyone I had known before. And eventually I might have started to wish for a new purpose, one in which I could be useful to God's grand plan. That world, gigantic and beaming with life of all kind, where all trees would bear nourishing and delectable fruits, where there would be no insects nor viruses, no sickness but yet the exciting possibility of being killed by a predator. That world in which we humans could roam fearlessly in enhanced bodies, that world exist for I have described it in details to God or one 9 of his angels as I wrote this story. I named it Ghama-2 and it is located at a distance of 90 light years from Earth. Yes writers write and perhaps, sometimes, God creates the worlds they have written about. In this story, a species of immaterial beings called The Guardians, universal voyagers, came into contact with some of our descendants on Ghama-2. They visited that world and discovered an abandoned city. The city was built by a species that had achieved its highest possible evolution. They had left the city a billion years before and the city contained universal enhancing devices that could transform anyone into a Godlike being. Many species had heard of it and are already on that planet searching for it. The first species to find it would become so powerful that they would become the masters of our galaxy. Many of those species are worthless and evil. The Guardians found the two human cities on Ghama-2 and they observed our descendants, reading their thoughts and sharing their emotions and they realized that mankind possesses a rare quality, compassion! They decided that we should be the ones, the all-powerful ones that will take control of this galaxy they call the Milky Way. They tried to speak with the humans on Ghama2, to tell them about the city and its location but were unable to communicate with them. Strangely enough for the Guardians, these humans had not a shred of telepathic power. So the Guardians used the timeline to find their world of origin, Earth. Once they reached Earth, they looked everywhere to find at least one person to whom they could speak but there was not even one of them. They traveled to the past and finally found one person, 700 years in the back time, a person which blood had been altered by repeated immersion in pulsating magnetic field. That person could hear them; the Guardians had finally found a way to help mankind. 10 I am that person and now my mission is to write a book, a novel relating the fictive adventures of a group of heroes, leaving Earth for Ghama-2 to find that city and enhance themselves with the devices left by that ultimate civilization into Godlike beings. The Guardians will influence certain people to come to my art gallery and discover my book. Shall they read it; they will have done their first step in becoming some of the chosen for the coming odyssey. I am writing that book for the purpose of recruiting some people, possibly you! Will you join your efforts to mine and participate to the most exciting odyssey in all human history? Please read that story and forgive me for my mistakes and unusual ways of expressing myself, I am writing it in a beautiful but foreign language which I have recently learned for I am of French origin. Welcome to Ghama-2! 11 Glossary Bill: Bill Rate is a genius; he is also highly cultured, likable and charming. He owns a software business and is one of the richest men on Earth. Father O'Leary: Duplicate of the initial Father O'Leary, mid-age Catholic Abbott and preacher. He is extremely courageous and possesses incredible oratory acumen. The reverend father is a man with a magnetic personality whose company is highly appreciated by everyone. Garry: One of Joan's twins. Garry grew up with his sister Nancy. He shared her friends even into adulthood. Garry knew what women want and could seduce almost anyone. He likes to talk for hours with his friends. He is very kind and funny and appreciated by everyone. George: George W. Wood is 69 and President of the USA. George is a man of great resources and a born leader; he was very athletic, handsome, highly cultured and likable. Joan: Elderly woman working at Naples library. She is highly educated, very beautiful and very athletic. Her courage has no limit. She had a previous life and was once known as Joan of Arc, the Maid of Orleans. John: Elderly gentleman, retired Navy officer and secret agent. John is a born leader. He was also the best close combat fighter in the navy. His sixth sense warning him of incoming danger was an important factor in the success of his missions. John is a very kind and serious man and he looked like Sean Connery. Krishna: Krishna is 59 and former Middleweight boxing champion of the world. He is also a preacher promoting a new global religion based on Hinduism, Christianity and Islam. Krishna is extremely talented in sports and is a black belt in Judo and karate. He was the undefeated ultimate fighting champion for a number of years and also an Olympic fencing gold medalist. Les Semeurs: A species that evolved on Ghama-2 and reached its ultimate level of evolution. They got bored, 12 stop breeding and went into extinction. Ten thousands of them chose to go into deep sleep awaiting the members of a younger species with whom they would share their ulterior life. They stored their souls in the enhancing devices that were left for those who would be brave enough and resourceful enough to find them. Nancy: One of Joan's twins. Nancy is a very determined young woman. She has a hot temper, but she forgives very quickly. She is as beautiful as her mother and also very brave. Like her brother Garry, she is quite a seducer. Nicole: Nicole Teaseman is 46 and once the sexiest Hollywood star. She isn't very brave and this just adds to her charm. She is kind and likable, very beautiful and athletic. Richard: Elderly gentleman, artist-painter and science fiction writer. He possesses an exceptional intuition of coming events. He is the first human able to communicate with the Guardians. He is also the only one who fought victoriously a demon and succeeded to imprison it in his brain. He is a tight lip joker and a storyteller. He is very interested in others and likes to know everything about them. Tom: Mid-age CIA agent, strong like an ox and quick like a panther, he looked like Arnold Swatzerneger. Even though Tom is not a big talker, his presence is highly appreciated and most comforting. Like John he is a very well trained fighter. 13 Chapter One – Richard - First contact I have been dreaming almost every night for the last two weeks and each morning as I woke up, I remembered glimpses of those dreams. I tried to focus on them but just could not retain anything. I had that feeling that those dreams were unusual, important perhaps for my future. My mother had had those strange forewarning dreams, a special talent surely and she could read her dreams; she was very good at it and I wondered if I had not inherited it suddenly now at the age of 62. Probably not for I would have had them before but then why do I have that gut feeling that these dreams are of great importance? There has to be a way of remembering them, maybe I should tell myself before going to sleep tonight that I will remember everything about my next dreams. Self- suggestion, self-hypnotism, that's the solution. Tonight, I will repeat it in my mind, all the time, until I get asleep, "Tomorrow morning I will remember my dreams". I did it last night and this morning I remember those strange landscapes, that multicolored sky with six visible moons and those fruit trees. There were people and tall birds, taller than the people and walking with them. There was a sense of great wisdom and dignity in the way those birds walked and mingled with the humans. The people looked very happy and relaxed, some of them had live teddy bears on their shoulders. Some were playing while others were picking fruits from the lowest branches. There was such a feeling of peace and serenity that I wanted to become one of them. But then I saw a black cloud floating menacingly over their heads like a somber presage of great dangers to come. Suddenly I was flying away from them and now I had stopped over a group of aliens, bipeds with a rat face and pointed ears. Their body was covered with brown and gray fur and their hands and feet were clawed. 14 They looked fierce, ferocious and evil. There were now thousands of them and they were listening to a demon. "Get to that city and you will become so powerful that you will be able to enslave and torture every sentient being in this galaxy." The demon said. "Kill everyone that come in your way." The demon added. Suddenly I was transported over a city of people mingling with the tall birds and the teddy bears, the city was beautiful; white houses with red roofs, trees and flowers, parks and small lakes and half a dozen golf courses. The city had been erected between the seacoast on south side, a river branching on two sides and the jungle along the last side. There was a marina and all kind of sailboats. I could sense that these innocent people were completely unaware of the terrible menace from those wicked aliens and demons. Somebody had to help them, to warn them. Moreover, there should be an expedition and the people had to find the city described by the demon before anyone else. Then I was transported thousands of miles away to a jungle of very tall trees and I saw a camouflaged city sitting on its canopy. The people had carved their homes inside the trees and the branches were as wide as roads. There were safety nets on the side of those branches and the people seemed to be calm and very happy. There were gardens, flowers and fruits everywhere. There were birds, all kind of birds flying around and singing or calling each other. Little furry animals were scurrying everywhere. Somehow I knew that the people from these two towns were the descendants of the survivors of a spaceship crash landing. They had called their two cities, New Alexandria and Jungletown. Then I woke up and remembered everything, crystal clear. 15 What a strange dream! The following days, I dreamed again and each morning I was remembering them clearly. My dreams had become more than ordinary dreams, they had become part of my life and I felt that I was living in two worlds. Now I can sense the presence of very powerful spirits as I dream of far away lands on another world and I guess they are using those dreams to communicate with me. Maybe I am becoming insane. Last night, I woke up suddenly in fright. Could it be...oh no, I thought, I am not going to start hallucinating at my age, I told myself. These are dreams, nothing else! But then how come I am so afraid to close my eyes and sleep the rest of the night? I forced myself to look back and remember what it was. There had been a ghost, many ghosts speaking to me at the same time, and I could feel their alien-ness, there was the sensing of enormous power, knowledge and extreme intelligence. I felt like a tiny insect spoken to by giants. They had shown me stars rushing into a black hole and I was a tiny speck amongst a cloud of meteorites, I was falling towards that black hole at tremendous speed from unimaginable height. That was a dream; a nightmare and I won't have the same nightmare twice, I told myself. So I called for relaxation; it came and I slept again. But the dream came back and they were there waiting for me. The spirits had not thought that one could be afraid of movement or vertical distance and they comforted me. They showed me more scenes of those nice people from another world. At daytime, I was afraid that I was loosing my mind and I was trying to forget the dreams but I just could not forget anything. Moreover, my contacts with the spirits were not frightening anymore, in fact I felt comforted by them and I am becoming anxious to get asleep at night. I want to see more of that other world, its 16 exquisite landscapes, its fauna and the smiling people picking fruits from the multicolored trees... One night, I woke up right in the middle of my dream, loosing contact with the benevolent spirits, the Guardians, they called themselves. I jumped in one desperate attempt to get away with my thought thread from the hard core in my brain. It had been happening for years. When I dream, my thoughts are like a thread flowing along the neural ways but there is one of those ways that ends into a cul-desac. If my thought thread pushes forward once it gets to that dead end, something terrible will happen, I know it, I would probably die or worst... Is there something worst than dying? Yes, there is something there, infinitely scary, lurking but unable to escape. For that hard core is its prison. I could not sleep the rest of the night, so I got up, put some clothes on and went outside. My condo is on the shore of an alligator infested lake and there is a trail snaking its way on the lakeshore up to Marco Island Airport right into the everglades. It was in the middle of the night, there would be no one outside at this hour and there were the alligators, the Florida panthers and the black bears to be wary about. I released the safety catch of my long knife sheath and went on the trail. I have flirted with danger all my life, unafraid of losing it for I knew after that drowning experience that I wouldn't really die, only my corporeal envelope would be gone if I lose my life and I would feel wonderful again. When I lived up north, in Canada, I used to go skiing across the plains and the forested hills, alone, and knowing that if I broke an ankle, I would not survive the night in such cold weather. I was going for long rides where nobody would go, almost certain that I would come back home safely. Stupid optimism perhaps or the intuition that someone was watching over me, protecting me, I don't know, but I was feeling elated by the risk and yet confident of the outcome for I was in a real 17 good shape and my years of practicing judo and yoga had given me a rare sense of balance. I am now almost 60 years old and every time I look at the sky on those starry nights, I feel an unbearable attraction to go there and visit the worlds gravitating around those stars. Those spirits, The Guardians, they are showing me scenes of another world and they said they want to help mankind get to that old city first... wouldn't it be great if they could somehow transport me there to lead an expedition? Tonight, I will question them. I walked for an hour, came back to the condo, had a snack and went back to bed where I laid awake and daydreaming of exciting adventures on that strange world. The following night, I was dreaming and in contact with the Guardians. They said they saw very clearly what happened just before I woke up the night before. They asked me if I wanted to be relieved from the presence of what was lurking in my brain hard core. They could do it, they said, but there was a risk. For they believed there was a demon inside there, kept imprisoned there, by an unknown force. They had never seen that yet, for the demons are powerful adversaries and immortals. They would guide it out, they said, and push it into an alternate universe, so far that it would never find its way back. The demons, fortunately, are not very intelligent. They are cunning and think highly of themselves rejoicing in their power over weaker individuals and enjoying the pain and the despair they can cause to others. The danger for me was that it might be able to destroy my brain on its way out. But the chances of that happening were very slim for they would be there protecting me, acting as a barrier. I could also chose to live the rest of my life, knowing that at any time, the hard core in my brain might weaken and liberate the demon who would then torture me and 18 have its fun with me, its helpless and desperate victim. The demon could also take my soul and bring it to Hell... I remembered how it happened, the demon had been haunting me ever since I had drown and been rescued. I had lived an out of body experience, which had made me a focal point. If there was a forest of ten thousand trees and the lightning hit one, it will be the tree I am hiding under and yet I would somehow survive it. All kind of things was happening to me, amongst them the haunting. The first time it came for me, I was picking wood and coal in the shed for the night. My mother had forced me to go to the shed against my will and to my shame; I had slashed her with harsh words. I knew that something would happen, that's why I had rebelled so hard. I always had an intuition of coming events but my mother wouldn't back out, I had to go, period, and end of discussion. I went inside the shed without bothering to turn on the light for I told myself I was not going to cave in to my fear. Beside that, I just remembered upon second thoughts, the light bulb was burned out. I had rolled the two feet log against the shed door to make sure it would not close on me. I went to the coal stack and picked up the shovel and filled my pail. Then I walked to the wood cord and loaded my arms with the firewood. I was taking my time to prove to myself how brave I was. I turned around and picked up the pail of coal and I sensed or saw a movement of some sort of life inside the darkness of the shed. I saw a shape of utter darkness! My hair tried to levitate out of my head as I jerked back in terror. The door slammed shut! I was stiff and tense with fright and unable to move. The shed was pitch black with the door shut and there were no windows. I sensed a movement and I could still 19 see the shape of darkness for it was something else than darkness, it was the utter negation of life, its pitch blackness silhouetted I don't know how against the total darkness of the shed. There was a coldness coming from it and I could see some movement, there was a continuous movement inside the entity, it was like the flowing current of dark masses. It looked at me; I sensed it, as though I could see its malevolent gaze. Then it moved towards me; I felt I was going to be engulfed in that negation of life and suddenly I cried in terror, the most desperate cry you could hear in a lifetime. For I knew that what was coming would be worst than death, infinitely worse, for the beast was coming for my soul. It would take my soul and would bring it to hell where I would suffer forever. Forever would I be plunged in utter despair with no way out. Anger flooded inside, I felt the spreading of an unknown force as I revolted against that horrifying fate. No, I thought, all mental claws out, I will not surrender. God, you won't abandon me, please! Suddenly I felt I could move and I don't know why I did it but instead of backing up, I plunge into the blackness, rushing for the door, which I hit at full speed, hands first. The door burst out and I ran shouting inside the house. The day after, my mother took me to the church to ask for help for she didn't want me to be haunted again. The priest, Father Poisson was his name, did some prayers, sprayed holy water on me and told me to get lost, to go back to hell. He was looking angrily at me as he was showing me his crucifix. The whole ceremony was exorcism, that's what he called it. Nothing happened, and we came back home. I saw the demon again the following year and many times more over the next few years. The last time, the demon came for me was at the Benedictine Monastery on the shore of Lake Humphrey Magog. I was going there for a few days every year so that I could forget about the materialistic world and plunge myself into prayers and meditation. 20 It was the law of silence there and the walls and ceilings were very thick, we could hear nothing at all once in our cell with the door closed. I was going to the 5 religious offices per day to listen to the monks' beautiful chorals and I was spending the rest of the day walking the miles of trails through the forest surrounding the monastery. At lunch and dinner, a monk would recite on flat tone voice philosophical and religious verses. Since they had made humility vow, they could not show that they were good at reciting verses thus the flat tone. One night, as I was lying down and reading in my bed, in that small and blank monastery cell, I saw a black cloud coming through the ceiling. It was coming from the cell occupied by a Rosicrucian. I had met the guy, the Rosicrucian, outside of the monastery as I walked the trail and we had talked about his organization. “We are a secret group,” he told me, ”working against the spread of demonic influence on Earth. We are not part of any recognized church. We are led by a spirit, an angel and we work for periods of sixty years with a 40 years laps in between.” “Why is that?” I asked. “We don’t want to get known or to become too powerful and then feared by political leaders, dictators and religious leaders. Sixty years seemed to be the maximum. There is also the fact that for the last few centuries, Earth was visited regularly, every fifty years or so by members of a very wicked alien species called Gargoyles. A few spaceships of them land in secret places. Soon after a lot of people disappear. We are food to them. They have such terrible weapons that they can destroy our planet if they wish so. The only way we can fight them is through astral trips. We can disembody ourselves; leave our body and travel, fly as ghosts all around Earth until we find one of their ships. Then we enter it and manipulate its 21 computers through telekinesis, start its ignition and fly it into the sun. We must do that for each of their ships. When we are done with the ships, we have to chase the gargoyles one by one until we kill them all.” “Is it easy to do those astral trips?” I asked. “Not easy at all.” He replied. “You have to do mental and physical work out, meditation, spiritual enhancement; you have to learn how to draw energy from your surroundings. There are initiations for each level of emancipation. I am here to proceed to the fifth degree initiation and that will involve an out of body astral trip, my very first one. The danger is that it could attract an evil spirit and if one come; there is no guarantee that I could survive such an encounter.” I remembered that conversation as I watched the black cloud coming through the ceiling. It looked at me! How did I know that it was looking at me? I don’t know but I knew it and suddenly it rushed towards me at an incredible speed. I could not escape so I got very angry and all mental claws out; I brace myself for the onslaught. It was on me, inside of me, I felt its nauseating presence and it was like I was being step over by an elephant. I tried to inflict pain to the dark mass, the evil spirit, mentally, for the spirit was immaterial. It did not work so I started to push while I was calling for God's help. I push and compressed the dark mass and kept on pushing at it from all sides and it shrank! I felt it shrinking and I went on pressing until it had become smaller than the tip of a needle and now it was imprisoned in a node of mental energy, there, in my brain; there was a hard core in my brain, a black hole imprisoned by a bubble of mental energy and I could never let my thought thread flow into that bubble. The Guardians seemed to be highly interested in my story. Once I finish it, they were silent. Then I told them to go ahead and do whatever had to be done and get it over with. I was terrified as I felt my thought thread moving to the forbidden area towards the hard core and had a tremendous feeling of panic as it penetrated it. 22 I saw or sensed the exultation of the demon as the prison wall was destroyed but before it had time to exact vengeance, it was taken away, swiftly, by the Guardians and I could hear its enraged howling as it disappeared into another dimension. In a moment only, The Guardians were back and I decided to ask the questions that had been bubbling in my mind for a number of days. Why did you come in contact with me? I asked them. Do you want me to go to that world, to mount an expedition to the abandoned city? Why did you not just pick some people from one of these two human cities and carry them to the abandoned city? They told that they tried that and a very strange force of unimaginable power prevented them to do it. "Our action is limited there" they said, "and we believe that the only thing we can do to help is to snatch your soul and the ones of some other well chosen people from your world, transport you there, give you a new body with some improvements..., and wake you up close to one of the human settlements." "You can you do all of that? Are you some kind of God?" I ask. "We are not what you call God," the Guardians said, "we never met such an entity even though we have traveled across the universe for millenniums. The concept though is fascinating and we think that it does exist. It might be dwelling on that world or maybe a spark of it is there for we never experienced before the presence of such a powerful force as the one that prevented us to help mankind over there. But we can create material things, from the atoms in the air; we can recreate you body and put your soul back into it. We can travel in time so for us it would take no time at all to take you and some others there." "Well, now that it is all possible, I am not sure I am ready to die right away." I answered. 23 "You don't have to die right away," the Guardians said, "beside you are the only one with whom we can communicate and you will need help, companions, for that mission. We think that you should talk about it to a lot of people and recruit a number of them." "Easier to say than to do for if I talk about it openly, I will be taken to a mental hospital and kept there until I tell the doctors that it was an hoax." I replied. "What I can do is write a book about a group of people going to that world in a mission that will decide the fate of mankind. I will display the book in my art gallery. Some people will ask me what the book is about and I will tell them it is about a group of people in a mission on another world. I will also tell them that I wrote it to recruit the true heroes of a coming odyssey. I will write in the book that if they want to be amongst the recruits, they will have to buy one of my paintings; one of a number of paintings that will show scenes of that other world. I will then proceed to make those paintings and once I have enough of them, I will sell them in an auction. I will invite all the people that bought the book to that auction and the ones who will risk a sizable investment to buy one of the paintings would be the ones you will take to that world. And I want to be one of them. I believe that the only ones that will spend a large sum of money are the ones that have the ability to listen to their intuitions, the ones that might be influenced by God to do it and these are the ones that I want as companions." "That is a good idea, we will look around for the best individuals" replied the Guardians, "and try to influence them in coming to your gallery." "Very good and thanks for your help," I said, "I am so excited by the prospect of having that afterlife on another world, thank you, thank you, thank you, I love you." 24 The book will be used to attract the potential candidates for the mission and the deal would be sealed by the act of actually spending an important sum of money to purchase one of the paintings. We want believers; people able to take decisions, even to the point of reducing the digits showing their buying capacity. For what is the point of having a printout showing great buying capacity if you are afraid to use it...? There might be too much to write for only one book and if it is so then I would continue the story in a second book. I should not delay though. There is a feeling of urgency, I sensed it, they did not explain why because telling me about the immediate future may change it and then there would not be any spaceship later on going to Ghama-2. So, as soon as the story had gone far enough, I will print a limited edition of a few hundred books and display them right away in the gallery. Some people will read the book, I think, and some of them will believe the story and buy one of the paintings before it is too late, before the partial destruction of the United States by terrorists happen, perhaps. These buyers will be transported at the moment of their death to Ghama-2 and we will be awoken altogether, wow, I feel so excited that I wouldn't mind so much to die right away. I mean as soon as I have written the books, made those paintings and recruit enough of my future companions to have a chance to make it through all the dangers that will be awaiting us. Who knows, maybe the book will be modified in the far future and the new version brought back to our present time by the Guardians. From now on, anything can happen, sometimes fiction becomes reality; a writer may have visions of coming events and sometimes the fiction readers make the fiction become reality. I read once that all the worlds and the personages created by the writers exist in another universe, from Robin Hood to Cyrano de Bergerac to Superman... 25 I am calling that world Ghama-2, I guess it is a good name for that world. For once, I feel important. I would have like to be tall and beautiful, strong like an ox with great athletic abilities but I am just the average guy. I tried to get the best of the body and mind I was given though. I went to university and succeeded to get a Bachelor degree in chemistry developing my mind to its maximum potential. I practiced Judo for years and all sorts of other sports, racquetball, badminton, golf, skiing. I was born the average guy but I am proud of what I did and learn. What I am the most proud of is my compassion and my ability to see the child in a grown up person. I usually find something to love in most people, I am also a true believer in God and I felt his presence all along, right to the point where I am now. Who knows where our souls are taken to, even the guardians don't know; but in my case, I know where I am going, I am going to Ghama-2 to save mankind and perhaps to meet face to face with God. That night was over and even though I did not sleep much, I felt very energetic as I sat in front of my computer to start writing the book. The only problem was that I had just recently learned to communicate in English and now I had to write and this at an age where we are often searching for our words. I had to empty my mind and let my subconscious do part of the work as I started to write it. The book would not be a literary marvel but hopefully, it will be good enough to attract the potential heroes of the coming odyssey. It took me many months but finally, the first two books of the trilogy were printed and I had them in display in the gallery. John Foster was the first to be compelled by my book. He came one day to the gallery, saw the book and bought it. John was a most amazing man. Six feet five, former Ireland track and field champion and still in top shape at 84 years old. He showed a very calm and cultured behavior and he impressed me a lot. 26 I will start the story with the events that preceded John's visit to the gallery. These events played a most important role in his decision to lead the mission to Ghama-2. 27 Chapter Two - John in mission to Pakistan It was 10:15 AM, Monday March 12th. John opened the door and walked rapidly inside the Naples Municipal Library. He went immediately to the counter and looked at a very beautiful woman. "Hi Joan, I am so pleased to see you today after such a long absence." "John...I didn't see you for months, what happened? I was so worried about you!" John Foster was a handsome elderly man in his late seventies, holding himself straight and giving the appearance of a vigorous athletic person. He was a retired navy officer, tall, slim waist and a full head of white hair and Joan Davies had no doubt that he was made of the stuff of a true hero. She did not have to look at his medals to believe that; just a look at his piercing blue eyes was enough. He had a calm and understanding expression and when he looked at her she felt that there was nothing a person could hide to this man. This troubled her since she could hardly hide the effects his presence had on her. "Three months ago, when I came back home from the library, a man was waiting for me in front of my condo. He was sent by the Florida CIA headquarters to fetch me. I had to go with him immediately, extreme urgency... I would have called you if I could but it was not possible. I worked for the secret services for the last twenty years prior to my retirement. I worked most of that time in Iran, Pakistan and the Middle East and I speak their languages without discernible accent. They needed me to go to Pakistan to retrieve two nuclear bombs suitcases from the hands of a terrorist group. I came back one week ago from that mission. As soon as I got here I came to see you but you were absent for the rest of the week. Finally we meet again and I am very happy to see you." "So am I." said Joan. "I loved my coffee breaks with 28 you...you said you were retired from the navy..." "That I was, and I never thought they would call me again but they needed my experience, my contacts and my ability to speak the language. There was also the fact that nobody is suspicious of an old man. They thought that I could really help and the mission was important, it could save the life of millions of people." John did not mention his other talents. He was a black belt in Karate and Judo and had achieved incredible performances in all combat sports. He was a dangerous man for the enemies of his country, even at his age. At 18 years old, a Bully had attacked John. He had been forced into a fistfight, which he had lost shamefully. Since then, he had disciplined himself to one or two hours of training every day. He had taken the decision to become stronger than most other men, stronger or faster. He had also developed over the years an acute intuition of imminent danger. He could feel it coming. He always knew in advance when something bad was about to happen and had so far escaped it. Men, John thought, can change their destiny continuously. If I feel that something bad is going to happen, I can either do nothing about it and let my destiny shorten my life or I can change my destiny by immediate action. At the age of 21, he started to read on psychology and motivation and became very interested in people. A few years later, he was able to read one's emotions through his unconscious body language and that ability had been most useful. "So, what did you do over there? Joan asked. I am sorry; I should not have asked that question; but tell me, did you succeed with your mission? Was it worth it?" "Yes, it was a success, but I prefer not to talk about it, there are other matters though about which I would very much like to talk with you..." "John, let us go to the coffee parlor." said Joan. "We will be more comfortable there and we will talk at 29 length. We have much to talk about and my colleague here at the library can manage for a while without me, it is not busy today." "Wonderful". said John. They walked to their usual coffee parlor. It was nice and sunny outside, Joan was euphoric and John felt great. They walked slowly enjoying their companion's presence. John Foster used to come twice a week to the library. He usually came early afternoon and stayed for a few hours looking through a number of books waiting for Joan’s coffee break. They talked about different matters and they always found something interesting to talk about. John would often ask Joan what she thought about a subject of actuality. There seems that there never was idle talk between them but healthy interesting exchanges that transformed Joan's half an hour coffee break into a short period of intense intellectual pleasure for both of them. It had been going on for six months. Every week John would meet her at the library. He had taken the habit to go twice a week, every Monday and Wednesday. One day, John came back from the library and as he got home, he saw a car occupying his allotted parking place. There was someone in the car and John had the intuition that this person was waiting for him. It could become unpleasant, for John had many enemies. First, I should block that car, he thought, and he stopped his car right behind the stranger vehicle. The man came out at once and walked quickly toward John's car. John unlatched his door in case he would need to propel it in the face of the potential foe. He released his safety belt and grabbed his special umbrella made out of armored plastic plates strong enough to deviate a bullet and with a stainless steel tip that could be used as a bayonet. John was an old man but in a short burst of energy he could still put down an enemy whatever his size. 30 The man stopped at a safe distance from John's door and took from an inside pocket, slowly and using only two fingers, his CIA badge which he showed to John. "What are the name and the phone number of your immediate superior officer?" John asked in a clipped voice. The stranger gave him the information and John picked up his cellular and called the CIA headquarters. At all time he kept his eyes riveted on the stranger. The CIA officer who answered his call didn't seem surprised and told him that they had sent one of their agents to meet with him. John thanked him and closed the connection. Then he went out of the car and shook hands with the man. "Now, what can I do for you?" said John smiling. "For a while I was worried expecting the worst." The man had been worrying too and his relief was evidenced by the disappearance of two tiny wrinkles between his eyes and a slight lowering of his shoulders. John read much more about the stranger in one or two seconds of acute observation of his body language and came to the conclusion that he was facing an honest man. "Your help is needed at once," the stranger said, "it is a matter of life and death for millions of American people. I was ordered to take you right away to the CIA headquarter." John couldn't agree less with that turn of event; he had done more than his share for his country. In fact, his life had been a long courtship with death and soon now they would embrace; he didn't have long to live and he knew it. I deserved my retirement, he thought, and there is that dear Joan for whom I feel unexpectedly strong emotions. I am in love with her. It took me seventy-eight years to find the right woman and now I may very well loose what is left of my life if I take that mission. He did not like it, and beside he was too old now. Also, if he finally came back from there, God only knows when, Joan might not be working at the library anymore. 31 "Let me explain Mr. Foster,” said the CIA agent, “we know you are retired but there is nobody else that can talk the language and walk there without attracting suspicion and accomplish this mission successfully. We found out that a terrorist cell operating at the frontier of Pakistan and Afghanistan have recently acquired two nuclear bombs... five megatons nuclear suitcase bombs. The terrorists contacted Iranian officials; they want to sell their bombs. We tapped their conversation. We found out that an Iranian envoy is being sent to meet with them in three days. He will be carrying a suitcase with twenty million dollars in it. We have plans to kidnap the envoy and replace him by one of our men. You would be that man and take the envoy's identity. You speak the language, you have been in mission there quite a few times, you would know what to do or say, they will not suspect you. If you accept that mission, you will try to get inside the terrorist hideout and make sure the bombs are there. Once you are sure, you would send a signal to your team by pressing on an implant that would be inserted under your armpit. As soon as the signal is received, your team will burst in to help you get the bombs and eliminate those fanatics. There should be no mercy; we heard them talk in length about using those bombs to destroy some of our cities. They were jubilating. “With Allah's help” they said, “we will kill millions of Americans...” We have a jet waiting for you and we have already selected a group of our best men to assist you in this mission." John had never before refused what he considered his moral obligations and he was too old to change, he didn't like it but he did not hesitate. “All right,” John said, “let’s go.” The mission was top secret and John could not call Joan to tell her that he was leaving for Pakistan. 32 “Anything else than the truth is not possible with Joan” John thought, “and then what can I say?” John decided not to call her. John and the CIA agent left for the CIA headquarter. Three hours later, they were there; they showed their identity cards to the guard, went inside and walked directly to a conference room. Five men were sitting at the long table; amongst them, George W Wood, the president of the United States. John knew him very well having been at a time his personal bodyguard. He had saved his life once in Texas… “Hi John, old friend.” said the president. “I am sorry to have called you from your retirement but I had to, there is too much at stake, millions of lives, our country partially destroyed, our economy gone…I had to call for your help.” “I understand Mr. President, I will do my best.” John was briefed on the mission then taken to a medical room for the implant. The surgery didn't last long; they cut the skin, inserted the signal device and sew him up. Then the CIA agent took him to a military jet at the Jacksonville International airport. He went to his seat and sat with much relief. It had been a long and tiring day. He had that surgery, and the small implant fixed inside the skin of his armpit was hurting a little bit. He could sleep much of the trip but he doubted it. He was afraid that something would go wrong, he had the intuition that this mission would not be an easy one. John went into meditation, he had a lot to think about for he might just be about to loose his life. How many terrorists will I have to kill? He asked himself. John thought about his life. He had participated in the Vietnam War and the Panama's attack. He had done secret missions in the Middle East a number of times. He had killed for his country and felt very bad each time for he had great respect for life. 33 I have fought for freedom in my country and in other parts of the world, I have killed people and they were not all bad people but people that were doing their duty for their own country. Some of them were parents and their death must have devastated their family. John felt remorse for the suffering of those innocent children that had lost their fathers in his hands and he didn't like that mission one it. Maybe I will be captured and tortured... I have less resistance to pain, as I am growing older--But I have a duty, there is no way out and I will just do my best to prevent the use of those bombs. If I fail, I will go to heaven, maybe...if there is one. But come to think of it, what will I do there? I am not very good at praying, I am a man of action and I like to do things or watch sports at TV. What John really liked was to go in the forest and walk a trail in the wilderness. He would sit by a stream and listen to the murmur of the wind through the foliage, the laughing and gurgling of the stream on its way to nowhere, the creaking of the trees rubbing each other Companionably; the chirping and twittering of the birds. He would watch the squirrels running after each other or hiding nuts in places they will surely forget. John liked to day dream that he could fly through the trees, fast, and drive out some of the wild life that he had not seen in a long time; bears, wolves, otters, deers, maybe even a mountain lion or a wolverine and share their thoughts, participate to their hunt. But this side of John was well hidden; he wouldn't let anyone know that he was secretly a daydreamer. My greatest joy is to meet with Joan and feel the turbulence of my emotions. Will we be together in heaven one day? And if there is heaven, will it be a place of devotion? A beautiful and fleecy whiteness where I will adore and congratulate God? But after a few hours of devotion and adoration and praising, what will I do? Is it such a blessing then to have an afterlife? Would it not become unbearable after a while? Perhaps God will 34 give me a feeling of great happiness, an everlasting happy feeling, but then I will still know that this happiness is artificial, that I became a useless just-feel-happy adoring machine. Moreover, if I am not the same man after my death, if I have been changed into a happy adoration machine then I have truly died. It will not be me as I am now with my memories of good times and hardships, I will be another creature. No, and come to think of it, God doesn't need any worship. To think that He does is belittling the Almighty. So either we die and we are done with and good riddance r we are sent to another world as we are, unchanged, with our memories, our built-over-the-years qualities and abilities to meet with new challenges. If the latter is true, will I be able to take Joan along with me? Is there an anteroom in the afterlife in which we can wait for the loved one to depart from the world of the livings and join the dead? God, please, I don't want to be changed into a worshipping entity! I prefer everything to end at my death! But in such case tell me, why am I risking the rest of my life and the possibility of unendurable Torture, if I am caught alive? Is it to help my country? To prevent millions of people to die just a bit sooner than they would anyway? What am I doing, going into this mission? Have I turned nuts? Maybe Alzheimer has paid me a visit, coming unexpectedly and without an invitation. No, John, stop that, you know why you are doing it, you have a reason to do it, a very important reason. If you don't do it and millions of people dies and millions more people suffer from the loss of their family members; you will feel dirty inside for backing up on what you consider a moral duty. You will feel shameful and will lose your pride. That's important enough... that's the only thing that really counts... my sense of honor, my decency, my self-esteem. I like to think that I am a man; a real one, a hero. It might be immature and useless to think that way, possibly, but I would not be happy without the conviction that I am a great guy and I will not fail my country people. John's meditation induced sleepiness and he was now sleeping very deeply. He was in a cloudy place; there were rows of people, millions of rows, billions of people, all looking 35 towards a great light. There was Joan a few rows away, he wanted to join her but he could not move. John looked further to her right and there she was, his mother, a little further still was his brother, he had protected him and loved him so much until death took him away. He tried to call them but again, could not utter a sound. He could not talk to anyone of them. A hooded tall being was coming towards him now and it looked like Death. The hooded man stopped in front of a very ugly man. John recognized him; that was Yasser Arafat; not a doubt about it. But what is he doing here in heaven? After all everybody knows that he was the leader of a gang of self-bombers and innocents' slayers. Arafat saw the hooded being coming and tried to squeeze into his chair and turn invisible. The hooded being stopped in front of Arafat and gave him a tremendous slap in the face. “What are you doing here, you miserable vermin?” said Death. “You are a slippery one aren't you? That must have been another mistake. Ever since God gave that Saint Joseph the job at the admission office, we have had those mistakes. You vermin go to hell!” Arafat disappeared in smoke but just before he was turned into smoke, John saw the terror in his eyes. The hooded being resumed his walk between the rows and soon was out of sight. Suddenly there was a booming voice. "You don't adore me well enough; I will throw you to hell!" said God. John knew that he was the one being addressed by the almighty and he was scared even stiffer and more toothless than he had already been these last few years. "Please Sir God, I call to your pity," said John. "Please forgive me Sir; please don't throw me to hell; I will adore you better, I promise." 36 Suddenly he woke up, transpiring. My goodness, John thought, that could not be, it is just a dream. God in his infinite wisdom surely has a better plan for my afterlife, if I deserve one, that is to say. Otherwise why would He give me an afterlife at all? Maybe I should tell God what I would like as an afterlife. “What I would really like as an afterlife dear God, is to travel from world to world and discover the secrets of creation. To visit the galaxy and stop from time to time on one of the inhabited worlds and share the thoughts and emotions of the sentient beings there; and maybe help some of them in achieving their goals. I would like to embark on a million years trip with my dear friends, with Joan, with my brother, my mother and father, my uncles. I would like to be able to communicate with them at all time, to love them, have fun with them, and make physical love to Joan... Hey that would be heaven for me, to fly with them at incomprehensible speed. Wow! Now, if you listen to my thoughts dear God; that is what I want. I will do everything to deserve it.” The jet landed. John was taken to the American Consulate and immediately brought to the colonel in charge of the secret service operations. There were three men with him. "Hi John,” said the colonel, “let me introduce you to your team. Tom, Walt and Martin will be your colleagues for that mission." The men were very friendly, respectful. "It is a pity that we had to call you for that mission, John." said Tom. "We have been informed of your courageous navy career. We learned all we could about you and here you are, the hero of a dozen missions. You look in great shape, I am sure you will be very helpful but it is a sad thing that we are forced to ask a 78 years old man to risk his life again." 37 "It is all right," said John, "I thought a lot about it during the flight. I came to the conclusion that my life had been an unfair deal and this as far back as the first time my mom told me that I was going to die, that everybody die, sooner or later, that we are born to die. I believe I was two years old at that time. I got at that moment my very first nervous breakdown...Could you imagine that? Two years old and already a broken man..." John kept a serious face. Everyone was looking at him, wondering if he had just lost it. Then looking at their long faces, John smiled and all of them started to laugh. Tom hugged him, and everyone clapped hands with him. It was clear that they were worrying about the coming events and that small joke convinced everyone that John was the right man to have with them. That man is a cool one, they thought. "Ok, "said the colonel, "let's go on with the briefing. The Iranian envoy arrived today at the Iranian embassy with a suitcase chained to his wrist. It must contain the money for the transaction. We have relaying teams watching the embassy and the terrorist hideout 24 hrs a day. We tapped their communications and we found out that the envoy is going to meet with the terrorists tomorrow morning. We have two unidentified cars to chase after the envoy's car and proceed with the interception. We will wait until it gets in the poor sector of the city. Then one of the cars will pass the Iranian's one and stop in front of it. You will be in the second car and will block its rear. You will kill the bodyguards and kidnap the envoy and questioned him. Then you kill him too. We will scramble all the communications in that sector and nobody will be able to report what is happening or call for help. John, you will take his place. We have prepared a special suitcase for you. It will contain the money but will also contain a gas capsule with a mechanism to release a very powerful odor when you activate your implant signal. We have done much research in the development of odoriferous gas as armament. This gas was recently developed. The odor is extremely offensive, unbearable. 38 The first second, they will be under shock, they will think that somebody had just been very impolite; then they will try to move away from the odor, they will vomit, you will take advantage of the confusion to kill them. At the same moment your team will burst in to help you. You will not smell anything; you will all be given the antidote. So, the first thing you do is to make sure that the bombs are there, then you activate your implant, you kill them and fetch the bombs. Is that simple enough?” “A piece of cake!” answered John ironically. “Now get to bed all of you, try to sleep a few hrs, the kidnapping should take place tomorrow morning at 9:00 AM." Too simple, John thought, as he was shown to his bedroom. It won't work... John woke up at 6:00 AM, did 45 minutes of work out, took a shower and went downstairs to meet with his colleagues at the cafeteria. They talked a little, made some jokes to relieve the tension, checked their armament and went to the car. At 9:00 AM, they were parked on the street watching the Iranian embassy. The envoy's car came out and moved towards the old city. They followed until it moved into the poor sector. Tom called the driver of the second car and gave him the signal to move ahead and released its load of nails. They did it and all the tires of the Iranian envoy's car went flat. They must have realized what was happening for they pressed ahead but the way was blocked. They hit the car blocking their way but with the flat tires their car didn't have enough traction to push its way through. Walt had moved his car right behind the Iranian envoys car and trapped it in between. Tom opened the door and ran to the front of the envoy's car and inserted an odoriferous gas capsule in the grid. In 2 seconds, the Iranians opened the door and surged out with submachine guns firing. 39 John shot and kill one of them, three more went under the bullets of Tom and Walt. John ran to the envoy who had just come out of the car and knocked him down with a punch at the solar plexus and a quick short swing to his neck with the side of his hand. Tom picked the envoy's body and swung it on his shoulders then ran to the American car and dropped it inside. The envoy was injected with truth serum and woke up with a little capsule of ammonia opened under his nose. John questioned him. He told them that he was going to meet with one of the terrorist at a gas station a few miles away. Once there, he would identify himself and give his password. The terrorist would then return to his car and the Iranians would follow the terrorist to his hideout where they would exchange the money for the bombs. So far so good, thought John, at least we kidnapped the envoy without any casualty and I don't even feel tired. In fact, I feel just great, full of energy. I will probably be tired once it is all over but not before. This new gas armament is really cool. Tom was sitting beside the envoy; he grabbed his head and broke his neck. He had his orders; no witness must be left alive. They drove to the gas station in the unidentifiable American car. The tires had been unaffected by the nails since they had been previously filled with latex. Once they got to the gas station, John went out and walked like an old and feeble man. He had a long beard stuck real well with crazy glue. For the next day or two, the skin would come apart before somebody could pull it out. I looked venerable, he thought, a holy man, a holy Muslim. A man walked to him and said: "Allah be with you, are you the Iranian envoy?" "Allah be with you too. Hell to America." said John for that was the password. "Where is the money?" said the terrorist. "In the car and well protected by my three guards. The suitcase is linked to a belt loaded with explosive and 40 any attempt to get the money will result in its destruction." "I was ordered to take you and the money to our temple. You will come with me and your guards will wait here for your return. Once we get to my headquarters, we will count the money and if it is all there, I will take you back here with the bombs." "There will be no such nonsense," said John, "We were ordered to follow you to your place in our car and once there we are to exchange the money for the bombs. My guards will protect me at all time. Our heads will fall if we disobey." The terrorist was hesitant, John looked at him in the eyes but he averted John's gaze. He smelled unclean and bad waves were coming out of him. This man is rotten to the bones, thought John; he would kill his own mother without hesitation if it brought him good money. "Since that seems to be Allah's wish, follow me then." said the terrorist. They followed him for 10 minutes and entered into the northern part of the poor sector. A dangerous place to take a walk, thought John, you would be knifed in the back for a pair of shoes here. Finally they stopped in front of small temple. John went out of the car and waited. "Take the money with you and follow me inside." Said the terrorist. "Your guards will stay in the car." John went back to his car and shook hand with his companions. "Good luck my friends." Said John. They wished him the best and Tom clapped him on the shoulder. 41 "It is an honor for me to share that mission with you John." Said Tom. "I did not tell you yet but you saved my father's life; Bob Hardings, you remember? I am his son. He told me you are his hero, the bravest man he ever met in his life and the most dangerous fighter in close combat." God that was a long time ago, John thought, during the Vietnam War. Our platoon had been ambushed and Bob and I were the only survivors. Bob had been shot in the leg and John had stopped the bleeding and carried him on his back until they reached the pick up location, miles away. John had used his special gift, that feeling of imminent danger to move around the enemies and following his intuition they had finally made it. "Thank you Tom for your kind words." said John. "I remember your father and I liked him like a brother. I heard that he passed away. Please accept my condolences. I will not fail you here." John took the suitcase and chained it to his wrist. He put on a thick belt, loaded with plastic explosive and went out of the car. He followed the terrorist inside the temple. Putting on that belt, John thought, is like giving away the few good years left to me. If we can't get away with the bombs, I will have to detonate it and there is enough explosive to destroy the whole building along with the nuclear bombs. My chances to get away with my life and the nukes are not very good. Farewell Joan, I wish we had met a few years earlier. Three guards were waiting inside and they were pointing their AK 47 at his chest. "I will disarm you," said the terrorist, "and then you will follow me in the office." "There will be no such thing," said John, "if your men shoot me, I have enough explosive in my belt to destroy the building. I will not surrender my arms. My suitcase is chained to my wrist and connected to my belt. Any 42 attempt to take it from me will result in your immediate death. My men are waiting outside; they have by now brought the car right against the temple. The car is also loaded with explosive." "What, what..."said the terrorist, "it was understood and agreed that you will come disarmed..." "You thought," said John, "that we would be stupid enough to come here with twenty million dollars, without any guarantee that you have the bombs or that we will have a fair deal? Allah informed our holy leader that you intended to take the money and kill his envoy. In his great wisdom, he sent me, a dying man, and I assure you that I will not hesitate to detonate my belt if I think that there is foul play here." "Also," said John, "One of my man is a nuclear engineer. He must come with me to check if the bombs are in good order. Once you have shown me the bombs, I will give you my suitcase; you will count the money while we check the bombs. Then, we will get back to the car with the bombs." John turned around and made a hand sign to Tom to come with him. When he turned back he saw that the terrorist was giving instructions to one of the guards who left at once for the office. The terrorist looked at him angrily. "Follow Me.", he said. They went to the office. There were many men inside. John counted them; there were the three guards still pointing their submachine gun, covering Tom and himself, the terrorist and two leaders. There were two big suitcases on a long desk. These must be the nukes, thought John. "These are the bombs," said one of them, "now hand me your suitcase and make sure to disconnect it from your belt." The man that spoke was surely the leader, John told himself, he is used to give orders. 43 The leader looked down at John with the composure of a man of great dignity. Another one of those damned holy man, thought John, ready to kill millions of people and his own mother and sisters if need be. Well, I am going to kill that one first... As soon as I disconnect the belt, they will start shooting. They want the money and keep the bombs. I read it in their faces. They never had any intention to surrender the bombs. John activated the gas capsule in the bottom compartment of his suitcase. The leader looked at him with a very offended expression; he had never been farted on that bad. Every man backed up, it was the right time. Everyone except Tom and John were under shock of the unbearable odor. John pulled his gun, shot the leader in the heart and threw himself under the desk. He rolled over and shot another man in the legs. The man fell and John shot him in the head. Two more men fell on the floor under Tom's bullets and he was rolling himself under the desk shooting the last two guards in the legs. They both rolled away from the desk and shot the falling guards in the head. That man is fast, thought John, and quick minded too, I never had a chance to warn him of my intentions, what a partner! They were all dead; Tom grabbed the two very heavy bombs and lifted them from the desk. Tom is incredibly strong, thought John as he picked his own suitcase and one of the AK47. There is no point in leaving twenty million dollars to those fanatics, he thought. They came out of the temple and ran towards the car. There was a crowd of people outside, encircling it; some of them were armed. John put his suitcase on the ground and started to shoot in the crowd, he killed some of the armed men first. The crowd parted and Tom ran to the car, the door opened, he threw the bombs in and turned to grab John's suitcase as John was rushing in. 44 John fell; he had been hit and had lost consciousness. Tom could not rescue him, they had received orders, the bombs were too important. He had already taken the money suitcase from John's hand, he closed the door and the car left at full speed. John woke up in a cell. The bullet had only grazed his head leaving a sizable lump. He was aching and terribly hungry and thirsty. He had been kicked everywhere by the angry crowd. So, I am still alive, thought John, but they took my clothes, my shoes, everything except my underwear. I am chained too; by one ankle...God my ribs hurt, some of them must be fractured. They kicked me, bruised me good. I suppose they thought I deserved all of it; I must have killed twenty-five of them today. They will probably have their fun with me. Torture followed by execution! That's what is awaiting me. I must be strong, there is a way of ignoring pain, I was better at it when I was younger, now it just doesn't seem to work so well anymore. Anyhow, I can't do anything about it, fretting and despairing will not improve my situation so I will forget about my misery and dream about a comfortable shelter in the forest, just beside a gurgling creek. Joan is with me, we are roasting two hares over a campfire and we have plenty of water to drink--. John woke up from his dream at the sound of a key turning in the lock, the door opened and two men walked in. One of them carried a plate of stew and a bottle of water. They looked at him. "You were unconscious for days now," said the oldest of the guard, "we had to force you to drink some water, we did not want to loose you before we could rightfully execute you. But before that, we need you to answer a few questions. If you answer truthfully, we will give you the food and the water. First, who are you? Second, why did you shoot our people at the temple?" "My name is John Foster. I am a retired US navy officer. I came here to take two nuclear bombs from a terrorist cell before they were delivered to an Iranian envoy. 45 Those bombs would have been used to kill millions of innocent people. Please contact our consulate; they will surely confirm my story. " "We won't do that for now," said the guard, "we will keep you here for a while. You may be useful. We can possibly trade you for some of our imprisoned brothers or get a sizable ransom from your government. The Iranians would also pay a good price to get their hands on you." They gave him the food and left. John spent endless hours in that cell. It smelled bad; he could relieve himself by sitting or standing over a hole in the floor. There was a narrow bed with one sheet, no window. A man was coming twice a day with a food plate and stayed until he finished the food, going back with the empty plate. It was always the same man. John still had his implant and from time to time, he would press on it to send a signal. Just in case, he thought. One day John asked the guard if he was a member of a terrorist cell. "I am a member of an Afghan tribe that had fled Kandahar." He answered. "What is your name?" asked John. "Khamir." "Do you stay in that building all day long, Khamir?" "Yes" "What do you do of your time?" "Nothing." "Are you alone all day long?" "Yes." "Would you like to play card with me? We can bet. I will pay you later on all the money you will win. That is if I can." "I should not talk with an infidel and it would be sinful to play with an American." "But, I speak your language, I know the Koran, I am a just a feeble old man dying in that cell." 46 A few days later, Khamir came in the cell with an old pack of cards. They played card everyday afterward and started to talk at length. John told Khamir that not only had he read the Koran book, he had memorized it. He had also read the Christian Bible. "You know Khamir," said John, "I am not much of a believer in people that call themselves prophet and start their own religion. I believe in God and in the existence of guarding angels, spirits that sometimes watch over us and even help us. Over the past millenniums, there have been a few exceptional men who built around themselves an army of followers after they declared to have been in contact with God. Amongst the followers were some people who could write about what their leader said or did. Their books were kept for a long time and rewritten by others. For centuries now, these books, the Bible and the Koran, were extensively used to convert people and influence them. Do you know who wrote the Koran?" "No." "Let me tell you what I know about it." Said John, set upon turning the guard into a potential ally. "The Koran is a book composed of writings about the revelations made to Muhammad by Allah. Muhammad lived in the seven century. One day he told his friends that he had spent some time in the desert and he had receive revelations from Allah. He told them that he had been chosen by God to be his prophet. Well some people didn't like it and they threw him out of Mecca. He left in an exile called the Hegira to Medina where he established his own religion. That was in the year 622 C.E. Later on, eight years later apparently, he led an army to conquer Mecca in the name of Islam. His army won the battle and that set the stage for a unification of the Arab world. But he died 2 years later. Somebody wrote a booklet of those revelations. The book was called the Koran and it required from the ones-who-submit (the Muslim) to believe that there was only one God and Muhammad was his prophet. It also required from the Muslims to make five prayers a day and to give alms to the house of worship called a Mosque. They should also give to the poor, make 47 fast during daylight hours for the whole month of Ramadan and make one lifetime pilgrimage to Mecca. Soon after Muhammad's death, a major disagreement amongst his followers split them in two groups, the Shiite and the Sunni. I don't know who wrote the Koran and I don't know who wrote the Bible. The two religions are similar except that for the Christians Jesus is one with God and at the same time the Son of God. According to the bible, he was born from a virgin woman called Mary. Who knows if Mary was a virgin, women don't talk to people about what they are doing behind close doors. Beside, I am quite sure that she did not say she was a virgin since it was commendable for a wife to make love with her husband. It would have ridiculed and belittle Joseph. It is probable that the writer decided to embellish the story somewhat and added that on his own. But again I might be wrong and the whole story might be true. Anyhow, it is not important. For God could have implanted a part of himself in that baby any time he wished and Mary wouldn't be less holy had she made Joseph happy. Unknown people have written parts of the Bible and other religious books, as the pages became unreadable. Religious books are excellent tools used by preachers to pass on their messages but some of the writings are questionable. For example, I found some contradictions when I read the bible. In one place it is said that God is infinitely forgiving and would not carry grudges; He would forgive one's sins if one ask Him before one’s death happen. But if you are unlucky and die too quickly, then the Almighty will burn you in hellish fire for a long time, more than a few hours of unimaginable torture, in fact for many days and more, for years, centuries, even much more than centuries, forever. Yes forever! So if you are Hitler or Bin Laden or anyone of the maddest and most sadistic leaders in the history of mankind you can still go to heaven if you ask God to forgive you before you die. That doesn't sound right to me. You may be a good person, generous and humble and have a 48 moment of weakness and commit one of the capital sins. For example, you make love to another person than your spouse and then get kicked by a car without having time to ask to be forgiven. Well though luck, you are going to Hell man, oh yes, it is written, there is no way out, you will be tortured forever in Hell. That sounds foolish but it is exactly what preachers have been telling people for centuries. Now, Muslim preachers are telling their followers that if they kill a lot of infidels, Americans and Jews and whoever else are at the wrong place at the wrong time, doing it in a suicide bombing, you are going straight to Heaven. Does that sound right?" "I don't know; I will have to think it over." said Khamir. "The problem," said John, "is that many followers don't question the preachers. This is the truth they say. It is written they say. And a lot of people believe anything that is written. After all, some will think, the preachers have consecrated their life to the word of God. They are holy men! It is a known fact. Everybody respect them. Well, let me tell you Khamir that many preachers will not go straight to heaven. Some will possibly go to that hellish place they are scaring us about if there is such a place. But I don't believe it, for I don't believe in God's wrath over sins. For undeserving people, there is most probably no punishment except that when they die, there is no afterlife, good riddance, that's all. So when a preacher says with a strong affirmative voice that Jesus said this or Muhammad said that and it is written, just remember that the guy is using the book's writings to carry his message and influence his listeners. If his message is a message of love, tolerance and compassion, then it is for the best and we should not worry about the source of the message. But if the message is questionable, then it should be rejected." "I often wondered how come Muhammad let the filthy Jews won the wars against our brothers." said Khamir. "Might it be that he wasn't God's prophet?" 49 "We will never know who really were: Abraham, Jesus, and Muhammad and those that came even before them, Confucius and Buddha." said John. "Those exceptional men may have been guarding angels; Guardians that gave us some help in our evolution. Who knows! God might have guided them or put a tiny spark of his godly being in them. But it is comforting to think that there is a chance the Almighty is watching us and wish us to evolve to a higher level. It is comforting to think that he is choosing some people to help and guide us. That may be so and perhaps the Almighty is doing the same for the multitude of sentient species living on billions of inhabited worlds in this infinite universe. The Jews are no more filthy or evil than your Arab brothers and we are all brothers on Earth, we breathe the same air and drink the same water and we all have dreams and emotions." "That's not what is being taught to us at the Mosques." said Khamir. "Do you think we shouldn't go at the Mosque?" "I believe,” said John, “that some people need a place where they can assemble once a week and show themselves to their neighbors dressed in their best clothing. They can say hello to each other and speak a few kind words, congratulate each other for their most recent achievements. This way they feel that they belong to a community in which the members share mutual beliefs and goals. To pray God, to sing together and to listen to the deep thoughts of one of the members of the community, one of the sons of that community, who has now become the preacher, is most comforting to those people. This is why churches and Mosques have been built and preachers have been preaching. This once a week communal meeting at the church is a good way for some people to overcome their loneliness. And when there are marriages or when the community looses one of its members, they all go to churches and give or receive kind words. Religions and churches are 50 wonderful; it is a great comfort to believe that when we are going to church on Sundays, we are preparing for ourselves a nice place in heaven and our life is worth something. Most people believe that by going to church, they are doing their best for the evolution of mankind. The day people stop going to churches will be a very sad day for many of them. Religion is important and very useful as long as it is not used to control other people and achieve personal power." "If I understood correctly the whole of your message," said Khamir, "I come to the conclusion that you don't believe in religion but you think it has a beneficial influence on mankind. I believe in Allah and would like to go to heaven and I need to follow the writings of a true religion. Would you to tell me then which religion you find the most credible." "I like the two religions, Christianity and Islam, but there is another one, a much older one called Hinduism. That religion was born here in Pakistan, which was part of India at that time, for it dates back to prehistory. It has no binding rules; a Hindu can believe in one or more Gods or none at all. The core of their beliefs is about reincarnation and Karma. The writings say that all living things, people, plants and animals live in a continuous cycle that goes on forever. The next life you get is determined by your merits in the preceding one. I heard about some people who remembered their previous life and a survey tends to confirm that belief. I came to believe in the presence on Earth of reincarnated people. But only a few since our present time billions of people could not have all had previous lives, there were not enough people before. I pondered about it and came to think that most people's souls dissipate into nothingness soon after being released from the body. Only a few souls have enough compassion power and knowledge or maturity to stay whole and resist the forces of chaos. To survive death, one must reach a high level of personal achievement." Khamir and John had many such discussions over the following days. 51 "Tell me," said Khamir, "what should one do to reach a high level of personal achievement." "We start our life on the first level." said John. "We have basic needs, instincts. We try to survive, get water and food and clothing for us and for our family. Then we want security and we try to make sure that we will have food tomorrow and the following days and years. That is the first level. Once that is taken care of, we try to get other people respect and admiration. We want to show everyone and ourselves that we are more intelligent or resourceful than most and we work hard to develop our abilities and make a personal success in a suitable career. That is the second level. But that is not quite enough yet to survive death. After we have got people's respect and admiration, we try to get their friendship and love and we realize that it is difficult to get it once we have proven our superiority. So, we try to become the best possible persons for our own personal satisfaction, hoping that friendship and love will follow. We learn as much as we can because it is pleasant to know things. We work out because we feel good when we are in great shape. We become interested in people and listen to them because that is the most interesting thing on Earth. Yes, other people! We help others because we feel good inside when we do it. We try to be humble because we realize that for whatever we do or have done, we are not important, we will be forgotten quickly after we are gone; beside, being important becomes a real burden. We get pleasure in small things like having a pleasant chat with another person or daydreaming for an hour in a beautiful and quiet place. That is third level. If we die after we have reached that third level, we may be awarded a different kind of afterlife than a reincarnation on Earth or a quick soul evaporation; a more exciting afterlife." "Your words carry a great wisdom, John." said Khamir. "I never thought about these things. I am told what to do and I do it for I want to go to heaven. I do my best to 52 follow the right path. I never questioned my leader's words before." Khamir left that day with much to think about. Afterwards, his behavior changed, he wanted to reach the third level and go to heaven or at least get an afterlife. He started to ask a lot of questions and slowly began to look at John as a father. Soon after, he was telling John of his every day's events. More weeks went on and John was making sure to be on the loosing side in their daily cards' games. He now owed Khamir the equivalent of thousands of American dollars and reaffirmed regularly his intentions of paying him later on, when he will get free. John was day dreaming one morning when he heard gunshots. Somebody was running to his cell door. A key turned in the lock, the door opened and there he was, Tom, with a set of keys in one hand and a gun in the other. He unlocked and took off the chain from John's ankle and helped him up. "Take that gun dear friend and follow me," said Tom, "it is great to see you alive." “Oh my dear Tom, I am so glad that you came back for me, thank you Tom.” They ran a long corridor and found three doors at the end. Tom opened the one in front and went out. John was just about to follow him when one of the side doors opened; he quickly stepped sideways and pivoting, faced a guard who was already leveling his gun on him. John shot him and froze. For at the very instant he was shooting the guard, the back door had opened and a gun had been pressed on his back. He turned slowly around, raising his hands; it was Khamir... "You will have to knock me down, so that nobody will think I let you escape." said Khamir. "Farewell John." "God bless you Khamir, good luck to you too." John hugged him then hit him hard between the eyes. He would have black eyes for a few days but no broken nose. He would not loose one tooth or suffer a bone fracture. 53 John followed Tom outside up to a waiting car, and they rushed away. John sat comfortably on the cushioned seat; it had been a long time with nothing else than a rough mattress on a cement floor and a square wooden chair. “Tell me Tom,” said John, “How in heaven did you find me?” “We thought you were kept prisoner somewhere around here since the terrorists never showed your body. We had a few agents trying to find you over the last few months. Then, last week, we caught a phone call conversation between the terrorist cell leader and the Iranian embassy. The terrorist asked for a ransom of $1 million to deliver you alive in their hands. When I found out about it, I asked the CIA headquarters to send me here. I came back yesterday and caught your signal as I was driving in this area yesterday afternoon. The signal was very weak; the battery must have weakened up over the months for I doubt that the signal could be caught further than a few hundred feet.” “This is just too much of a coincidence,” said John thoughtfully,” I sent the signal twice a day to spare the battery, one time in the morning and one time in the afternoon. This is only 2 seconds in a whole day, and you were there just at the right time, passing in front of that house, within a hundred feet of it and just before they were about to hand me over to the Iranians…” “I was lucky, isn’t it?” answered Tom joyfully. “I am not so sure about the luck of it.” commented John. “It looks more to me that this chain of events was somehow willed by God or some kind of guardian angels.” “These are odd thoughts coming from one of our most notorious country hit man.” replied Tom seriously. “But I too, often wondered about some unbelievable coincidences in the past.” “I come to think that my life, the short span of life that is left to me, might still serve a greater purpose and I wonder in which way I might still be useful. I 54 don’t have much left Tom; I was diagnosed with a brain tumor six months ago. The doctor told me it was impossible to remove it.” “I am sorry to hear that John,” said Tom, “how much time do you still have?” “One year more or less.” replied John. “There is a woman with whom I wish to spend much of that time but I don’t know if I should. She seems to like me a lot and I am in love with her but…” They landed at Miami International Airport the day after. John thanked Tom, hugged him and they shook hands warmly. "So, my dear Tom, you came back for me," said John with much emotion. "You saved me. I wish you the very best in your life and if you come to Naples, I have a room for you. I will be your friend forever." "I will call you, John." Tom left with water in his eyes. He had lost his father but he had paid his debt. The day after his return, John went to the library but was told that Joan was away for one week. So he went to visit Naples downtown, the Fifth Avenue south, and stop by an art gallery called La Belle Image. They had an exceptional selection of interesting artworks, high quality paintings. Many of these had been executed with impulsive pallet strokes leaving a rich looking and very thick texture. The colors were soothing and they depicted scenes of another world. John walked inside and started to look at the paintings. An elderly man came to him and addressed him in a thick French accent. John told him he had been in Paris quite a few times. "Paris is a beautiful City," said the French salesman, "the only problem is that there are too many French people living there." John found that very funny and kind of liked the salesman. 55 "In Fact," the salesman said, "I grew up in France but I am Italian, my name is Robert Pisano, please to meet with you." John and Robert shook hands warmly and started to chat and joke about France and the French people. John was having a good time. He asked Robert about the paintings illustrating scenes from another world. "The artist is in the back painting right now." said Robert. "He also wrote a book, here it is, “Ghama-2, An Afterlife Story” and its sequel “Land Of Magic”. The scenes are from this world; the artist, my boss in fact said he is seeing them in his dreams." John looked at the book, opened it, read the first chapter and got caught. "I will buy the book for now." John said. After paying for it, he went in the back to meet with the author and saw a man completely absorbed in the making of a painting. The artist seemed to be in a trance and ignored or didn't notice John's presence. He was doing the sky, sliding colors over colors from left to right, adjusting the texture left by the passage of the knife to enhance the beauty of the already rich looking sky. The moment came when the artist was satisfied and he turned around to face John. "I apply the paint in very thick texture at the bottom where the subject in my painting is closer but the sky, except at the top, must be absent of any texture if I want to achieve the illusion of great distance." He said. He didn't say hello, he just spoke to me as if we were old friends, John thought, as if we had been talking for hours and this subject just happened in the conversation. It was now evident to John that I knew of his presence in my back. I had volunteered an information when none were asked and this indicated to him that I wanted to convey my appreciation for the man I had guess he was. He felt that in one fraction of a second, as our eyes 56 met, he had been evaluated and approved as a person; for he was sure that I would have just said hello with a salesman's smile otherwise. John liked quick thinking but even more he liked to be approved by a quick thinker. There is nothing wrong in being a slow wit, John thought, after all it is not one's fault, but I prefer the company of the others. "I just bought your book after reading the first chapter and now that I have met with you, I know that I will enjoy the rest as well." said John. "That book was written for you," I said, "you are one of the chosen and I am very glad that you bought it. Your next move will be to buy one of the paintings." "I am not in the market of buying art but I will be back I guess." replied John. He left me to my work after shaking hands and went back home. Once there, John took a shower, prepared himself a drink, two ounces of London Dry Gin in a full glass of lime soda and plenty of ice cubes, and sat down in his most comfortable chair. He had a sip and started the reading of it. He read it for two hours and stopped for there was much to think about and his eyes were getting dry. Beside, he liked it that way, taking his time to digest a few chapters before resuming the reading. John felt tired, closed his eyes, fell asleep, and got caught in a very strange dream. He was seeing scenes of that world, Ghama-2, and some beings were talking to him. "You have been chosen, your descendants need you, your race needs you..." John woke up remembering the dream. He then went to the kitchen to make some coffee and to warm up a frozen dinner. The lunch was eaten quickly for John was now completely caught by the story. He drank the last of his coffee and went back to the kitchen to pour some more of the delicious coffee in his cup then went back to his sofa and resumed his reading. 57 On and off, reading then sleeping and dreaming, he went trough the books. Two days later he had read it all, the two books one after the other and was left shaken by it. He had not slept a full night just quick naps to restore his vision and his energy and understood now that this was much more than simple fiction, these books had really been written for him and some few other chosen. John knew that the dreams were no dreams, he had been in contact with spirits, they had talked to him, convinced him that they wanted him to be part of an incredible odyssey, an afterlife odyssey… He decided then to go back to the art gallery to meet with the book's author. I was very pleased to meet with John for the second time. "So you are back." I said. "The story is fiction but who knows, sometimes between fiction and reality lies a very thin line and it could be crossed over… I hoped you will buy one of the paintings depicting life on Ghama-2. If you do so, you will be awarded a second life at the end of the present one. There are a few strange facts, unexplainable..." “I know,” said John, “that you are trying to convince me that there is more to the story than fiction. You are careful as you do it, you don’t want to reach a point where I might start thinking of you as either a lunatic or a con man.” “I assure you John that I am neither one nor the other.” I replied sincerely. “I believe you Richard for not only did I read your books but I, also, have been in contact with the Guardians.” “Wow! I thought I was the only one with whom they could communicate.” I said. “You were the first one but not the only one anymore.” replied John. “You see, the Guardians have scanned your body and found that your blood had an unusually high level of iron and your cells had a very high level of 58 magnetism. They can now induce biological changes in the people they wish to communicate with.” “The Guardians told you all of that?” I said with surprise. ”You must have had long conversations with them.” I was a tad jealous as I realized that John had surely gone much deeper than me with the Guardians. “I wanted to learn as much as I could from them.” said John. “You see I am a cautious man and I didn’t know what could be their ulterior motive. They want me to lead the human expedition on Ghama-2. They said that I have the necessary military skill, combat experience, and psychology and they discovered that I possess a sixth sense that warns me of danger. Apparently they can rebuild us as we are now with our inherent abilities and add a few improvements of their own.” “What kind of improvements?” I asked. “They just said that we will be more functional and less vulnerable; otherwise we will keep our personality but we will be young men again.” replied John. “That will be great to be young again, isn’t it John?” “Fantastic!” He replied. “But now that they can communicate with anyone they wish to, they can just go back to Ghama-2 and talk to the people there, get an expedition force from locals… they don’t need us anymore.” I said worriedly. “I ask them about that.” replied John. “They said they thought about our belief in God and angels and came to the conclusion that these entities exist; they believe that they might have been led themselves by superior beings to you and me. So they think we are important for the success of such mission. They will only contact some of the people who have read your books; they will try to influence the ones with the greatest potential in going further and acquire one of your paintings. They said that if those angels exist, they should be the ones to influence the right people to come to your gallery. The Guardians will help a little bit in providing dreams to 59 those who have already been influence by the angels to buy your books.” “This way,” I said, “everyone of the potential candidates will still have freedom of will and only those who listen to their intuitions and are ready to spend an important sum of money in acquiring one of my paintings will be awarded an afterlife on Ghama-2. That is very close to my plan, the one I proposed to the Guardians.” “I know that you are doing well and you don’t need the money Richard but it would be easy for most people in attributing a financial motive to your plan. The people that will go further will be the luckiest ones or the most intuitive.” “Talking about luck,” I replied, “I intend to mail my books to a few of the most resourceful and luckiest people on Earth. These people would otherwise never hear about Ghama-2.” “Who do you have in mind?” asked John. “I don’t know why exactly but a few names came to my mind: Bill Rates, Donald Rumps, Nicole Teaseman, Queen Elisabeth the Fifth, Krishna the former middle weight champion, George W. Woods, our president.” “I know George very well since I have once been his bodyguard.” said John. “I saved his life once and I am just back from Pakistan where I was sent to fetch 2 nuclear bombs, suitcase size. If he doesn’t come to your auction, keep one of your paintings for him. He would be a great man for this odyssey.” We talked a long time about it.... 60 Chapter Three - Joan the librarian John was with the beautiful Joan at the coffee shop. He looked at her suddenly realizing that he had been lost for a while. "You were caught in some kind of meditation," said Joan. "I didn't want to interrupt." "Sorry Joan, as I grow older, I sometimes loose the thread of time, I get lost in my thoughts. Last week I bought a book, a most extraordinary book that is. I want to talk it over with you. If what I learned in that book is true, our very life may be transformed." "We are quite old already," said Joan. "It is difficult to believe that after all we experienced, our very life would be transformed by the reading of a book. It is not that I doubt you, John, on the contrary, for you are exciting my curiosity." Joan was very happy; John always had something new to talk about. She had been worried and afraid that something had happen to him. She remembered the first time they had met, their first coffee break together, her feelings afterwards, and her intuition that she had finally, at the age of 68, met the man of her dream. At the beginning, Joan was hoping he would invite her for dinner and she would have a chance to know him better. But he never did and Joan wondered why. Was he married? She thought, he had a ring but no, he told her that he was a widow and was living alone. She never asked him why he would not try to go further with her. They were not old physically. Both of them were in fact in great shape for their age; in better shape than a lot of youngsters but she felt that it was not proper for her to press him or to ask him why he would not invite her to dinner. Joan had lost her husband 10 years before and had never met a man since for whom she would give away her freedom. She was working as a host and a guide at the library four days a week, 10 to 6 and used much of her spare time in reading. 61 Joan was a very unusual woman. She was living alone on Mainsail Drive in Naples, Florida. She lived in a first floor condo erected 25 feet from the shore of an alligator and crocodile infested lake. She loved her lake; a few hundred dwellings on one side and nothing on the other side apart from the mangroves and the areas of long grass, saw grass, where the birds walk in search of small fishes and insects right beside the sleeping alligators and crocodiles. She would usually start her days with 10 minutes exercise followed by 15 minutes jogging on her balcony and then she would jump in her canoe and paddle along the far shore. She would even venture into the long grass areas knowing that at any time one of the big crocodiles could attack her for invading its territory and that would be the end. She was exhilarated by the presence of danger; she thought that her life would loose much of its interest if it would not be something that she might loose at any time. She likes paddling her canoe close to the long grass, making as little noise as possible but the birds usually flew away croaking a warning to the crocodiles. Some would slip soundlessly into deeper water but others would awake at the last moment and jump in the water in a tremendous splash. Sometimes they would emerge close to the canoe and look angrily at her. She would then look calmly at them and keep moving with the paddle in between her canoe and the closest one, showing no fear. She thought that if a predator can feel the fear emanating from a person, it would consider it as a prey or as a weak animal invading its territory and would attack it. So far, her theory had proven true and after 2 years of her daily routine, they would probably go on tolerating her presence. After her 2 hrs of early exercises and a refreshing cold shower she felt fresh, full of energy for the day, and proud to look like a young woman at 68. Joan took great care of being dressed perfectly at all times. She would not dress expensively but she did it with taste. She would go shopping once a week to buy inexpensive little things here and there and later on combine the blouses, the pants, the skirts and other decorative accessories with taste and creativity. She looks like a lady, always impeccable and still remarkably beautiful for her age. 62 John looked at Joan with a new intensity "Joan, I know you wondered why I never invited you for dinner or made any effort to transform our friendship into something much closer. It is not that I was not interested, on the contrary, I will tell you why now." John took her hand, look at her and said: "Joan, I love you since the very first time I met you. That first time, I felt your emotional response; I knew it was the same for you. We had just been struck. We had met our perfect match. I thought with much sadness that it was unfortunately too late for us; I love you and I know that you love me too..." "Oh John I love you too, why do you say it is too late?” "I thought it was too late but now, after reading that book…I believe we may have a chance. I believe there is a destiny but we can modify it by our very actions. We were destined to meet each other but too late to enjoy it. I don't have very long to live. I got a brain tumor, I am dying." "Oh no," said Joan stricken. "Please Joan, don't be so sad, something great happened last week and I believe that we have a chance to live a long life together but on another a world; a most fascinating gigantic world; a world where all the plants were genetically enhanced a very long time ago. All the trees are bearing nourishing fruits; a world without viruses, bacteria, and insects; a world without sickness but on which you may be killed for there are predators there, and other sentient species, some of them very dangerous." "John, you are really stirring my curiosity, I can't wait to hear more about it but not here, what you are telling me is too important to do it here in a coffee parlor. Would you come to my place, let's say 8:00 PM tonight? I live close to Marco Island, it's the first time I invite a man there but we have much to talk about. I will cook a plate of vegetables, zucchini, tomatoes, and onions with a good thickness of cheese over it. I have a few bottles of Pinot noir and I will have a home made dessert..." 63 "That's wonderful, it will be great, give me your address and I will be there." Joan gave him the address, hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. He held her tight for a moment, told her how happy he was to have an evening with her and let her go. She left for the library with moist eyes. She was troubled, filled with emotions. John paid the addition and left the restaurant to return to his condo. Once he got there, he decided to walk in the park and think the matters over. The guardians John thought are a very old specie. He remembered clearly his contact with them. It was dream like but so real that he didn't have a doubt about the reality of this contact. They spoke to him and he learned that they were there before the previous universe collapsed. They had protected themselves into a sphere of warp time energy; they were inside that bubble at the time the universe collapsed into the ultimate black hole. Then, there was a terrific explosion, and all the matter that had been swallowed came back out as hot gas. The gas molecules started to attract each other and form particles, which started to coalesce into bigger masses. As the masses increased in size, the forces of attraction between the particles increased. There came a point when nuclear reaction started and the masses transformed themselves into suns. Matter was ejected through terrific explosions and became planets. The guardians saw the planets being formed, they saw life coming out on them and they observed the evolution of that life into plants, mammals and ultimately sentient species. The guardians are traveling across the universe; they visit the galaxies and when they discover worlds inhabited by sentient species, they stop for a while to observe their doings. They very seldom interfere. They share the thoughts and emotions of individuals of a specie and after a while they resume their infinite voyage. They can travel into the past and come back at their actual time but they can't go into the future. These guardians are neither evil nor kind, as we would think in respect to ourselves. 64 They travel and guard the universe against the influence of the demons that also survived the last big bang and help vicious species to dominate, enslave and destroy other sentient beings. One billion years ago, the Jinx eliminated all sentient life in our galaxy and then destroyed themselves with internal wars. Only a few survived on the planet Ghama-2 but they degenerated and lost all their knowledge and technology. An advance civilization, Les Semeurs had already left that world before these terrible times leaving their cities protected by bubbles of space-time energy that would remain active for billions of years. They also left a mechanism to prevent any ship to fly over the planet. Any spaceship flying inside the atmosphere would crash on the surface. All but one of the cities left by Les Semeurs had stood well protected inside their bubbles over the billion of years since they left. That city was accessible. The space-time bubble of energy protecting it somehow became inactive. The first specie to find it and access the knowledge spools left into their libraries would become as powerful as "Les Semeurs "once were. They would become super-beings. Two hundred years from now, an American spaceship will land on this planet. In fact, they will be crashed on it by the automatic mechanism. The spaceship will be lost. There will be no possible ways to communicate with Earth but there will be survivors. A low technology civilization will flourish over a few centuries and the humans will start doing trade with some of the friendly species living on that huge world. 500 years after the crash, the guardians passed by that world and observed it. They saw the lost city and they wanted to help the humans to discover it and become the next great race. For that to happen, humans needed help. The guardians traveled in the past and followed the humans backward and came to earth. There was much interference; a high level of radiation prevented telepathic contact. So they came further back, before the nuclear bombs started to explode everywhere. They came to our time and finally made contact with an individual whose cells magnetic energy was unusually high which facilitated telepathic communication… They contacted that human, the artist and author, in his 65 dreams and showed him scenes of Ghama-2. They induced him to start painting those scenes and write a book on that world and illustrate it with paintings depicting those scenes. They want to take back with them some Earth people. The chosen ones must be men of action, with unusual qualities or powers. They must also be people who can accept the unbelievable; trusting their intuition and instinct. They must have unusual mind power and compassion. They should be able to modify their destiny by direct action and that first action would be to buy one of the paintings depicting life there. Joan left the library at six and went home. She likes the work at the library, meeting with people. Many of them become close friends, even confidants. Back home, she sometimes watches television but she is too active to sit for hours in front of the TV. She likes to read and she is always trying to find something to do. She would prefer a more adventurous life. Joan Brunet grew up in Germantown, Maryland. A village located twenty-five miles from Washington, DC. Maryland is certainly one of the most beautiful states in America; with hills everywhere; lakes, and the seacoast near by. She loved it there. When she finished her high school, she looked for the best university at the lowest cost. She discovered McGill University. That University was as good if not even better than Harvard or Georgetown at one fifth of the cost. It was located in Montreal, province of Quebec, Canada. Joan went to Montreal and fell in love with the city and its people. There was always so much to do over there, so many activities, and its downtown streets were always crowded with people. French people just can't stay in their home or their backyards; they walk outside, in front of their houses and talk with the neighbors. In Montreal's old port, the streets are paved; there are hundreds of shops of all kind. Some of the streets are closed at weekends to allow the artists, the musicians, the acrobats or the comedians to give their shows in their allotted portions of the streets and collect some money from the passerby's. 66 Joan lived in Montreal the best years of her life. She graduated from McGill with a bachelor degree in Biochemistry and was immediately hired by an important pharmaceutical manufacturer where she worked for twenty years. In her early forties, Joan decided that it was about time to get married and have some children. She met David Mathers and thought he was husband material. She married him one year later. David was good company at that time, he was athletic, handsome, very intelligent and the only child of a millionaire businessman. Joan's parents were most favorable to the wedding. They had been after her for years trying to get her married before it would be too late to have children. She was not in love but she thought that love would develop with time. She became pregnant almost immediately after the wedding and gave birth to adorable Nancy. One year later, Joan gave birth to Garry. With two young children and a husband making good money, she decided to quit her job, abandon her career, and consecrate her life into raising these children the best possible way. Twenty years went by like a flash. David became very involved in his father newspaper business making acquisitions and working 16 hrs a day. David's father retired from the business and moved to Florida to play golf and enjoy living. A heart attack took him away one year later. David was very affected by his father's death; he became a different man and started to drink heavily. He was not at home very often, and most of the time he was nervous and hot tempered. When the business flopped, he was a broken man. He got employment here and there, loosing his jobs one after the other. Finally, like his father, a heart attack took him from his misery. Joan's relationship with David had been a sad one. Love never bloomed up with time as she had hoped for. There had been no romanticism, the great love she was aching for, the sharing, never happened. But now there was this man, John Foster, he was the one she had been waiting for. With him she would not loose her freedom, but live wonderful moments. She wanted to care for him, to cherish him until the end. 67 Chapter Four - The Seduction John arrived in time at her condo. When the bell rang, it was exactly 8.00 PM. That was part of his military training, always be there on time. For business appointment he would arrive twenty minutes in advance with a book in his hands. He would sit comfortably and read his book until it was time for the meeting. For an invitation at someone's home, he would never ring the bell before time. It was not proper, he thought, it would possibly force a person to receive him before being ready or before the house had been tidied up. Joan opened the door smiling and said "John, I somehow knew that you would be here at 8:00 sharp. I don't know many things about you yet but I can guess some of your character's traits." "I have no doubt about you ability to read people," said John. "Would you like a drink before the meal?" asked Joan. "A dry martini or a cold beer.” replied John. “What will you have yourself?" "A dry martini is a good idea, I will have one too. Have a look around while I prepare the drinks or just sit down; I will be back in a moment." Joan went to prepare the drinks while he walked around the living room, looking over every thing. There was a rust sofa and two easy chairs, a sculpted green and black granite table, a beige marble tiled floor. The walls were the color of the floor but a shade paler. There was a large size original oil painting over the sofa, showing three women sitting in a field with two houses and a church in the background. The style was creative and the colors were soothing. There were shelves loaded with books, an old TV set, and a stereo. Comfortable ambiance, John thought. A picture of Joan's family caught his attention. There was Joan with her husband and her two children at the age of ten and twelve years old. 68 Her husband was handsome, John thought, solidly built; he had the look of a businessman. A good man he seemed to be, but not striking; probably not an exceptional person. The girl seemed to have a tempestuous personality and the boy looked easygoing, very calm. The children have something of their mother, courage, and self-confidence… John never had children; he took a closer look at the picture. They are real good-looking, he thought, I would like them. Will I ever meet them? John knew he did not have long to live now, he had the intuition and so far his intuitions had never failed him. He went to look at the books disposed elegantly on the shelves. A moment later, Joan came back with the drinks. He took his glass. "Joan, lets make a toss to our future,” John said, “I have reasons to believe that great adventures are awaiting us." "To our future..." Joan sat in one of the easy chairs and John on the sofa. "Joan, let us come back to that book Ghama-2," said John. "The author is a local artist who owns an art gallery on Fifth Avenue South where the book is already in display. He illustrated the book with some of his own paintings depicting life on that world. Friday night is the official launching of the book at the gallery, there will be a cocktail with hors d'oeuvres, a pianist will be performing and they will proceed to auction the paintings illustrating scenes on Ghama-2. I am highly interested in buying one of those paintings. I know that it may sound foolish but I believe the artist's claims that the owners of those paintings will be transported to that world at the moment of their death. They will wake up in the body of a young adult. A body compatible with their aura and the way I understand this is that this new body will perform as good as the best you ever got with your present one and that would include the special powers or abilities that you have developed here on Earth. We will remember our past life and will be able to use our experience to help some of our descendants, already living there, to 69 find a very old city built by a civilization that left the world a billion years ago. I want to be one of the chosen and I want you to come with me. We will contact our descendants already living there and recruit a small army of volunteers to help us in our efforts to find the lost city and get inside. When I read the book, I fell asleep after a few chapters and I dreamed. My dreams were very strange; they were not dreams really, I was in contact with the guardians. They said that the first species to enter the lost city would become a race of super-beings. There are some mechanisms that could enhance the brainpowers many thousand times. The enhanced people will be able to manipulate the matter of their own bodies and the surrounding matter. They will be able to transform themselves at will, to fly, to travel from world to world at the speed of thought. They will become the masters of the galaxy. Some of the species on that world have found out about the city and are trying to locate it. If one of the evil species find it first, they will enslave all other sentient species and kill them at will. It seems important to the guardians to prevent that. This is why they traveled backward to find our descendants' home world and search for someone with whom they could communicate. They contacted the artist and helped him to write the book and make the paintings picturing life on Ghama-2. They showed me the world, the areas where the humans live and some other species live. They showed me the lost city too and it is a marvel. They can't transport us in its vicinity; something prevents them to use their powers on that world. There are a few places where they can create a new body for us. Some of those are at the proximity of a human settlement. We will be awoken in one of these places. They will snatch our souls at the moment of our death and carry them back there and transfer it into a new body. The guardians can manipulate matter and transform it. They can transform mud into a human body. They told me they are not godly beings and they are amazed at our concept of God. They can do wonders those guardians but they can't interfere more than that. 70 The chosen will wake up in groups of seven, in the vicinity of one of the human cities. With our knowledge and experience we can help our descendants whom lost all their knowledge during the hardship of the hundred years following the spaceship crash. Since they will pick our souls as they travel back to the future, there could be years between our deaths, it doesn't matter; we will all wake up at the same time, at the present time of the guardians, which is seven hundred years from now. I told them that I want you, my dear Joan, in my team. I also want my friend Tom who recently saved me from a jail in Pakistan. You can share the ownership of your painting with your son and daughter, as I will do with Tom. Their souls will also be picked up and they will wake up with us and be part of our team. I expressed my wish that the artist also joined with us. He will be the sixth member. The last member will be a priest. The Guardians said that they are fascinated by our concept of religion and they believe that it may be a very important success factor to have a priest with us. They found one with exceptional powers and contacted him and he will be at the auction. Once we wake up on that world we will be on our own. The Guardians will not be able to contact us anymore or to interfere. We will have to protect ourselves at all time, against predators and Aliens and even again some of our descendants. Joan, I would like you to come with me tomorrow to meet with the artist. We will talk about it; and Friday night my dear Joan, we will make a great step towards our future life together; we will go to the auction and buy one of the paintings." There was a long period of silence following the entire story. Joan was assimilating all the implications. "John, that story is just incredible. I am demolished inside at the thought of that brain tumor that is about to take you away now that we have found each other. Tonight, you will sleep with me. We will enjoy our companionship and won't get separated from now on. And you know what? I believe your wonderful story. I am 71 elated at the thought of the coming events. What a wonderful opportunity. You are sure it is not a dream?" "No, Joan, it isn't, it is real. We now have a chance to live a life of adventures together." "Incredible when you think about it, those guardians might even be watching us right now. They are probably listening to our conversation and sharing our very thoughts." "Joan, it is true... When you come to think of it, many religions mention the presence of guarding angels that could share our thoughts and sometimes help us..." "So these angels are in fact a species of invisible beings able to travel across time and space and doted with powers to accomplish what we consider miracles...." "Yes," said John, "and think about Les Semeurs who contrary to the Guardians, were material beings. They achieved, through their evolution and sciences, mental powers similar to the guardians. Incredible, isn't it? They roamed the galaxy for millions of years and disappeared one billion years ago. They left some principle, powers, mechanisms that are still functioning today... so powerful mechanisms that they prevent the guardians to interfere on their world one billion years after they left it. Mechanisms so powerful that they can still prevent spaceships to fly over the world one billion years after they left... That lost city contains all of their accumulated knowledge. They left ways of accessing it. They were hoping that one day it would help another race to evolve to its maximum potential. It would allow its finders to become one of the most powerful species in the universe, a race of supermen and quasi immortals." "And those aliens," said Joan, "hostile and lethal to all other sentient beings must be prevented to get there. We have to find a way to be the first and close the city to the undesirable. What a fascinating dream, can you imagine us flying together in the shapes of eagles under strange skies or swimming in the shape of sharks in the oceans of far away worlds?" 72 "Yes," said John, "it is a marvelous dream but we will have to prepare ourselves for that trip. It will be the most important mission ever, throughout all mankind history." "What do you have in mind, John?" "I think we should call Tom and your children and ask them to come over here and talk it over before we wake up there. I intend to invite the last two members too, the artist and the priest. We should spend some time together, the whole group. We should get to know each other; learn the inherent abilities of each one. We should train to fight as a group against predators, enemies, and monsters that may outnumber us. We must develop trust and friendship. I am an expert in war, in combat. I intend to train you all or should I say, show you how to train yourself. I would like to teach you some tricks in Karate and Judo. Everyone should start practicing with swords; knives throwing, close combat fighting, with knives or open hand. We should practice with bows and be able to hit a moving target. I asked the guardians about armament and they said that the mechanisms left by Les Semeurs prevent the use of technological arms. Nothing superior to archery can be used there. So I asked them to give us each a sword, a knife, a bow and arrows, good clothes, good booths and some hiking equipment. They said they would do that. At least, we will be able to defend ourselves against aliens or predators even against our fellow descendants if need be. That priest shall be trained too; I will try to convince him. Everyone must become an asset. Some of us must learn everything they can about computer programming. I believe that once we get inside that city, there will be technological wonders, equipment, and computers. They must have left devices they considered easy to access but they were so far ahead in their evolution that we should learn as much as we can if we want to have a chance to use those devices. " 73 "You are right," said Joan. "Are you hungry? It is all ready." "Oh yes I am hungry; I should have not gone so deeply into the subject tying to cover it all in one shot, I get very excited talking about this mission." "I understand how you feel about it, I am in a turmoil inside myself. You made me fall in love with you coming to the library and give me company in my coffee breaks. Then you disappear for three months and when you come back, you tell me that you are in love with me and you never invited me to dinner because you are dying. Then you tell me, no problem dear, we have a second life waiting for us and we will remember all about this one. And now we are already making plans as if we are just about to die... Tell me; how is it that this artist and you were the ones contacted? It is not that I doubt you; but do you have an explanation?" "I talked about it with the artist. He told me that twenty years ago, he opened a biotherapy clinic in Montreal. He had a bachelor degree in chemistry and had always tried to keep himself up to date by reading monthly-published books like “Sciences et Vie” a French scientific magazine. He read about the use of pulsating magnetic fields to cure a great number of diseases; even cancer. He opened the clinic with a doctor and put some publicity in the newspapers. The clinic filled up very quickly. Desperate people who had tried all other medicine came and got cured or got a vastly improved condition. It was an explosive success, hundreds of people were coming every day to his clinic and eighty per cent of them improved their conditions over a period of six to eight weeks with three treatments per week. The patient was lying inside a big cylinder; the walls of the cylinder were filled with copper wires. There was a generator sending pulses of electricity and the pulsating magnetic field was generated. It was strong enough to affect all the cells of the body. He said he was using an intensity of forty gauss and a frequency of 74 thirty hertz for degenerative sicknesses and a lower frequency for the acute inflammatory conditions. One day, the doctor did not come but representatives of the college of physicians came with the police and seized all the equipment and he found himself with a lawsuit for illegal medicine. He had to close the clinic permanently but he kept one of the machines and kept giving himself treatments every week for the last twenty years. He said that he couldn't keep credit cards on himself; they got demagnetized too quickly. He thinks that all the cells of his body have increased their electrical charges over the years. His blood test shows an exceptional iron content and he believes that he might be one of very few people on earth with such a magnetic condition. That has possibly helped the telepathic communication with the Guardians. Last year, I broke my right leg. It was such a bad bone fracture that they had to insert a metal pin to join the bone and they gave me a small magnetic pulsating field generator to be attached at all time to my leg until full bone regeneration. Well I felt such improvement in my every day energy level that I bought it and kept using it. That would be it. This is why we were both contacted in our dreamy state when it is easier for the Guardians to contact us. So, both the artist and I have a very high level of iron in our blood and a very high magnetic charge in all our cells." "Incredible," said Joan. "I did not know about that therapy, the pharmaceutical industries must have prevented that technology to spread. It would have reduced their sales dramatically. And the physicians must have felt threatened too; less sick people, less money for them..." They went to the kitchen and Joan opened the oven to pull out a big pan of baked zucchini, onions, tomatoes covered with a thick layer of melted cheddar cheese. It smelled delicious. There was a stick of bread fresh of the day, French bread, and a few bottles of wine. 75 John helped her carry the plates to the dinning table. He opened a bottle of wine and filled up the cups. Joan came to him and kissed him on the mouth, warmly, tenderly and the kiss became more passionate. They hugged each other and John could not hide the effect she had on him. He felt shy about it, a little ashamed of not having been able to control it. He tried to part from Joan hug but she kept her embrace and said: "after eating, we will go to my bedroom, keep some of your energy for that moment dear." He kissed her again and said "don't worry my sexy seducer, I am not dead yet." They chat a little, laugh at nothing and enjoyed their meal. They would break pieces of the French bread and dip it in the warm vegetable juice and eat the chunk of zucchini making sure they have in the same spoon some of the onions and tomatoes, pulling the cheese with it. It was the combination of the various tastes that was making it a delight. They ate a lot but didn't feel filled. They swallowed gulps of the delicious wine between each bite and when they finished Joan said: "I have in the refrigerator one of the best dessert you can find in Naples. It is called baba-o-rum. It is like a small cake loaded with rum and covered with whipped cream and real maple sugar lumps. A delight, but you know what, I can see that you are showing your manhood dearest, it must have been a long time...come with me, I will take care of it and we will have our dessert later on.” She came up to him, he stood up with no shyness this time, they hugged and kissed and they walked to the bedroom. They undressed and she turned on the music. John sat on the bed and she came to him aware of her nudity and its effect on him. She was just as beautiful with her small and firm breast, her flat and firm belly and her beautiful legs as any young woman. Her age only showed up from the neck up and that did not look too bad either. John started to caress her slowly, extending the length of his fingers, adding something to them that could go deeper, his aura. 76 He massaged her delicately but his fingers were reaching inside. He willed the transfer of comfort from his fingers. Joan felt comfort and delicious pleasure everywhere he massaged her. He started to stimulate her in two or three sensitive points at the same time. She tried to pull him to her but he resisted a little longer until he could feel that she was just about to have her orgasm and then he went inside and started to make love to her. Slowly, concentrating in sending her pleasure waves and trying to control his own very intense pleasure. He didn't want to come too quickly so he would stop sometimes and kiss her and think tender thoughts trying to forget his sexual needs. But now it was really too intense and he went on faster but not too fast, enjoying as much as he could before he abandoned himself to the most intense pleasure and finally let go into a wonderful apotheoses. She felt him coming and her own pleasure intensified, she let go too and felt the most intense orgasm she ever had in her life. "John, I never felt so much pleasure. You are a wonderful lover. From now on I keep you here. We will make love every day. Sometimes when we will be sitting together, I will caress you and excite you to the point where your manhood will almost explode out. And then I will take you to bed. What do you think? Is it a good idea? Will you stay with me from now on?" "Yes Joan, we don't have much time left to ourselves. I will stay with you. What about that dessert, I feel ravenous. Making love do that to me. It is not that I have been making love often. In fact since my wife died three years ago, I never had a mistress. At my age we don't have much sexual needs and to make love to a person just for the fun of it without a real emotional bounding did not appeal to me. When I was a young man though, I wanted to take to bed any beautiful woman I could lay my hands on. At that time, I was not concerned about emotional or even intellectual affinity." "Did you love your wife? How long were you married?" "I married her eighteen years ago. I was sixty years old, retired and lonely and I needed company. I did not 77 want to finish my life alone. She was a good person, fifty-five years old, cultured and beautiful. We traveled a lot together. We would go to the beach sometimes. She was catholic, very religious and was devoting herself to many charitable causes, working without salary. She was a very kind and honest person. I respected her for her qualities and felt great tenderness and friendship for her. I loved her as much as you can love another human being whom you respect and approve every which way. We went on with our life together; we companionably participated to many events and felt the comfort of each other's presence. When she died, I felt despair. My loneliness came back with more intensity than ever. It was not the passionate love described in books. Maybe we were too old for that. That was before I met with you and realized that age has nothing to do with love intensity. I loved my wife but did not feel what I feel for you. You are the person I hoped to meet one day and I intend to love you, to protect you and cherish you for the rest of my life. " Joan felt his sincerity and promised herself to give him her own protection and unconditional affection for as long as she lives. "Shall we go for the dessert?" Asked Joan. They enjoyed the baba-o-rums and were now drinking their second cup of coffee. "I am going to call my children," said Joan, "and ask them to come over and spend some time with us. They are living in Montreal, sharing my house. Garry has the basement for himself. He likes to invite friends over. I have never seen a guy with so many friends. They talk and talk and listen to rap and other modern music, drinking beer and this so late at night that Nancy will often find a whole lot of them in the morning. They are lying around, sleeping on the sofas or on cushions placed on the floor. Garry usually sleeps all 78 his mornings. He is presently studying to become a waiter in a fine restaurant. He wants to work on a cruise ship with two of his friends for two years, make some good money and then invest it all with them to open their own restaurant together. His courses start in the middle of the afternoon and ends at eight p.m. Nancy is studying at Concordia University in Medicine. She has a boyfriend but there is nothing serious between them. He sleeps there too. He owns a small grocery and supplies the food. Garry gets along well with him. They have their spring break coming in one week and to my knowledge they have not plan anything yet. It is now 10:00 P.M.; they are probably there right now. " Joan picked up her cellular from the kitchen counter and went to the living room where she sat comfortably on her favorite sofa, the one that had enough space for two. She is obviously very excited at what she is going to tell her daughter, John thought, I might as well bring her a glass of wine. It will be a clear message that I want her to take her time and enjoy it fully. John brought her a glass of wine and sat on the sofa right beside her, bringing his head to the proximity of the cellular so that he could hear the conversation. "Hello Nancy," said Joan." How are you doing?" "Very good mother and you?" "Very good too; I have a boyfriend...He is with me right now." "What?” cried Nancy, “Oh my God, are you telling me that you are in love mom?" "Yes my darling, I am in love, romantically in love, just like in a fairy tale and with a very special man." "Wow, cool, I was so sad that you had to live such a lonely life in Florida. It is such a dead place there. How does he look like?" "You know," said Joan, "that I could not stand the cold anymore and I felt that I was loosing too many days of 79 whatever is left in my life. A day inside because of the rain or the cold is such a waste. Here it is sunny almost all the time. I like canoeing on my lake and I like the work at the library. I thought a lot about it last year before taking the decision to move to Florida. You had both reach the age when you want to live in your own apartment but you had no money so I left you the house. I miss you though; I miss you a lot. But to come back to my new boyfriend, he looks great. He is seventy-eight..." "Seventy-eight, my God! You look like a woman in her fifties; why did you choose such an old f...man?" "Well, I understand what you might be thinking, but that man is in better shape than most youngsters.” “Where did you meet him?” asked Nancy. “He started to come to the library and each time he came we talked together. After a few days, he was timing his visits so that we could be together at my coffee brakes. This has been going on for a few months and then he didn’t come for three months and I was wondering what had happened to him. I was very worried and heart broken for I had already fallen in love with him. But He is back now from Pakistan where he had been sent on a mission by the CIA. He is a true hero, a retired secret agent and maybe more… he didn’t tell me everything yet. Last week John went to downtown Naples to an art gallery where he met with the artist whom had painted scenes of another world. There were books for sale, one was titled “Ghama-2, An Afterlife story” and the other book was its sequel, “Land of Magic”. The artist told John that he had written those books to recruit a number of chosen for the greatest odyssey of all time. John bought the books and as he read them, he fell asleep a number of times and each time he was contacted by the Guardians who explained to him that if he wished to, he could be one of the people to whom they will give an afterlife on Ghama-2. He could be one of the heroes of that coming odyssey. John wants me to go with him there and I am just about to embark into the greatest of adventures. We are chosen for a mission on another world, can you believe it? And 80 we would like you and Garry to come over next week. It is very important. John thinks that he only has a short time left. He is dying of a brain tumor... Would you come with Garry on next direct flight to Miami? You can use my credit card to buy the tickets.” “Mom, have you lost your mind? That story is just unbelievable; this guy must have done something to you…there got to be some money scam somewhere; do you have to buy something to be one of the chosen?” “Yes, dearest, I have to buy a painting depicting a scene of Ghama-2. There will be an auction next week…” “I knew it!” exploded Nancy.” These two guys, John and the artist are going to get away with everything you have in your bank account. How could you have not seen the machination, that’s a scam, can’t you see it mom?” “Nancy darling, don’t worry, I have not lost my mind; sometimes the most unbelievable is true. I won’t spend any money before you meet with John and the artist. But I need the two of you to come over to Naples right away.” “All right mom, we will go.” “We will be waiting for you at the airport. It is only an hour and a half from Naples if we take the 75, which is called here the alligator alley." "Mother," said Nancy worriedly." Are you sick? What you say doesn't make sense. Maybe you should call a doctor, it sounds like you have lost it." "Don't worry my little sweetheart, I am sane but I need you here. Please!" "OK, we will go, I will call you tomorrow to let you know when we will get to Miami." "Bye Nancy, I love you." "Bye mother, I love you too." "She was worried," said Joan. "I am sure they will come as soon as they can." 81 "I understand her," answered John. "That story is so unbelievable; she may even be thinking that you are the one with a brain tumor which is affecting your sanity. Are you tired? Would you like to go to bed? It is 10:30 PM…" "Oh no, I would never be able to sleep, I am too excited about everything." "Then," said John. "Give me your favorite brush; you will sit on a cushion, on the floor here between my legs and I will give you a head massage. It will relax both of us and we will be able to sleep. Otherwise we will be in bad shape tomorrow and we have plenty of things to do. I would like to do some canoeing with you, very early, when the fog is rising from the lake. I intend to wake you up at 6:00AM. I will prepare the breakfast and then we will do some work-up, the canoeing, and after a shower, we go downtown to meet with the artist at the opening of his store." “A head massage John, I never got that from another man before. It will be welcome, I need to be pampered a little, and there is still a little girl in me.” “Yes, I saw the little girl in you and loved her.” said John just before kissing her on the mouth. John started to brush her hair with the movements of a hairdresser doing a hair cut. Then he brushed them slower for a long time and finally started to scratch her head with his nails delicately extending his aura into he skin cells and sending waves of comfort and tenderness. He touched her head with his own and went on with the scratching while he was mixing his aura with hers, sending powerful waves of love and tenderness. Finally, he put himself in a half-asleep state and sent his sleepy waves into her aura. Joan felt such comfort that she fell asleep. John took her in his arms, lifting her effortlessly and carried her to her bed. He pulled the sheets to her chin, took off his clothes and lied down beside her, over the sheets, bare. He then increased his metabolism as he had often practiced in Yoga so that he would feel comfortable without anything covering his body and was out himself in no time. 82 Next morning they had a short breakfast of toasted tomato sandwiches with lettuce and pumpernickel bread. A cup of strong coffee, and they were on the balcony doing elongation and exercises. They went for the canoe ride. The air was fresh and cold, there was a dense fog and all the alligators and crocodiles were there on the lake. "They love the fog," said Joan. "If a big one comes for us, we will have to race away and after a while it will stop its chase." Wonderful, thought John, what a way to start a day. “I am not worried about it,” said John, “I brought my long knife and if we can’t escape, the saurian will have the last surprise of its long life.” They came back an hour and a half later, had their showers and drove downtown. They met with me at 10:00 AM. 83 Chapter Five - The auction "Hi Richard," said John. "I would like you to meet Joan Davies. She will come to the auction tomorrow night and buy one of your paintings." "Hi Joan, I am so pleased to meet with you. You look great, maybe I misunderstood but I thought John told me you were sixty-eight years old, you don’t look older than 55 at the most." "Well, now you know. I usually don't tell my age. Thanks for the compliment. So... you are the one, the first human being ever contacted by the guardians. It is an honor to meet with you." "No personal merits there, it just happened that I have an unusual iron level in my blood and a high electrical charge on my cells and that was the key that made it possible for the guardians to establish contact with me. My only merit is that I did not reject them too violently when I felt their presence in my mind. I tried to convince myself that it was just a dream but after a while I welcomed them and asked them who they were and what they wanted. I could have kept my mind close or turned hysterical but I don't get scared easily by the unknown." "I believe," said Joan, "that there are many others with whom they could have established contact. I am sure that they selected you for a reason and now that I see you, I perceive that you are a man with exceptional qualities. But I also feel that you are fighting a sickness. Are we going to loose you too?" "Well, I will try to finish the third book of the saga but yes I am fighting a stomach sickness and I am loosing the fight. My stomach is covered with nodules. I may last another year at the most." "Let's talk of our immediate future," said John. "I had a long contact with the guardians two nights ago. They showed me the approximate location of the lost city. They told me that they intend to transport on Ghama-2 three groups of people. Each group will comprise seven members who will awaken together. Each group will be transported to a different location but in the vicinity of one of the human's settlements. 84 I asked them if I could choose the members of my group and they agreed. I choose Joan with whom I am deeply in love. I also took the decision to add to my team Tom who recently saved my life in Pakistan. There will be Joan's children Nancy and Garry and the Guardians chose a priest; father O'Leary as the sixth member of my group. They said there is something about him that puzzles them, we will meet with him at the auction, I am quite curious about him. That makes six and I would very much like to have you with us as our seventh and last member." "That's great, I accept with pleasure. My wife left me a few years ago to live closer to my daughter. I call her sometimes to chat about everything. I tried to talk to her about Ghama-2 but she didn’t want to ear about it; she said she has no interest for adventure and beside she doesn't believe the story. I don't have any friend, I am alone except for my daughter and I want to go, I will not miss my chance for an adventurous afterlife." "Great," said John. "Let us meet, the whole group at Joan's condo next Wednesday. We will make plans to fully prepare ourselves for the mission. Let's say 10:00 AM. Will you be there?" "Count on me, I will be there." I said enthusiastically. “I wish to take my time here John,” said Joan, “I have a genuine interest for art and to look at each of the paintings will be a great pleasure for me.” “Sure let’s do it sweetheart.” replied John. Half an hour later, Joan tried to buy the books to no avail. She got them free. They left me to my duties and went on for a walk on the beach. They went down the Fifth Avenue south, which is downtown Naples, then turned left on Third Street up to Broad Avenue and then right to the beach and to the main tourist attraction, the pier. Palm trees and ferns on one side border Naples beach. The multi-million dollars houses are almost unnoticeable. There are no boats, just one of the most beautiful beach there is. There is the pier, very long and wide, with fishermen here and there and the pelicans 85 swimming lazily underneath, waiting to steal the fishermen's catches or for the thrown back fishes. The sea covers a desert of fine sand; there are no urchins or anything to cut into your feet. You can walk deep into it and swim safely late mornings and early afternoons but one should keep away from it at evenings and early mornings for the sharks are more aggressive at those times and may be just waiting for you. John and Joan removed their shoes and walked on the wet sand, they went on the pier to watch the children catching fish and their joyful interactions with their happy parents. The fathers would show them how to put on bait or how to take the hooks from the fish mouths. Most of the time, the children would throw their catch back to the sea or to the pelicans swimming by the pier. John bought two sandwiches and sodas and they sat comfortably under the shade. After a while, they went back to the condo. That night they went for dinner at the Ritz-Carlton on Vanderbilt Beach at Pelican Bay. There were musicians and a dancing floor. They ordered a bottle of red wine and an entrée of mussels marinated in white wine and garlic. Then they had a three-pound steamed lobster served on white rice. "Let's dance," said Joan. "It has been a long time since I did it and it may be our last chance at it." They danced for one hour and hug each other dearly during the slow dances, and then they came back to the table, ordered coffee and a chocolate dessert called “Profiteroles au chocolat”. Four balls of ice cream covered by chocolate and served on a mint chocolate sauce with a garniture of raspberries and blackberries. It was divine. They came back home at midnight. Joan got another of these exquisite head massages; they made love and slept contentedly. It was Friday night, the auction night and a large room had been rented at the Marriott hotel on Marco Island 86 for this occasion. I had mailed hundreds of invitations to my clients and to a number of well-chosen potential candidates for the mission. Some of them were celebrities and I had invited them in the hope of getting some very lucky members for that expedition to Ghama-2. The auction had been schedules for 8:00PM and I was a bit anxious to see if many would show up. In my artist career I had many shows and some of them had been real success and others real flop. I had come to believe that people are not willing to do much on nights following superior solar activity. All over the planet, people seemed to be in the same mood, probably due to an increased bombardment of neutrinos. But now, it was 7:00Pm and with still one hour to go before the auction the room was almost filled with all kind of people. I had my name clipped to my coat and was welcoming everyone that came in. Robert Pisano, my sales associate was there too to help and I had hired for the occasion a “maitre-de-ceremonie”, supplied by the hotel. Joan and John walked in and I immediately went to them to shake hands. “I am so pleased to see the two of you.” I said, as I shook hand with the beautiful Joan. I could not repress my feeling for her. It was love at first sight. She looked at me right in the eyes and I knew that she had just found out my intense feeling for her. I left her hand regretfully but quickly enough to hide what had just happened to John. “It’s a pleasure to see you John.” I said hoping that he hadn’t noticed anything but that extraordinary man had not miss anything. “It is a pleasure for me too,” said John, “I hope there won’t be any problem between us.” “I know what you mean and I will always respect you John.” I replied. “I will be your ally and your friend.” 87 He knew that I was sincere and a man of honor, it was easy for him to read me. “It seems to me that your auction will be a great success.” said Joan warmly, changing the subject adroitly. Oh boy, that woman is real bright and just wonderful, I thought, My God would I love to kiss her. Now come Richard, you better control your thoughts and emotions, you don’t want to lose John’s friendship, don’t you? Stupid! “It looks like that,” I replied, “we have some real celebrities here and a very interesting man, one that outshine anyone here. I can almost see an aureole over his head, a real saint I tell you.” “That is probably Father O’Leary,” said John, “the Guardians have found him and told me they wanted him to be part of our expedition.” “I didn’t send him any invitation.” I said. “How in Heaven did he find out about the auction?” “The Guardians have communicated with him while he was asleep,” said John, “they told him about the auction and the need for a preacher in this expedition.” “Well, let me introduce you to the reverend father,” I said as I led them to the father who was looking at the paintings displayed at the end of the room. “Father O’Leary,” I said as we came beside him, “let me introduce you to two persons I consider very important for the coming odyssey. John Foster and Joan Brunet.” “Hello John, Joan, it is a pleasure to meet you. Richard told me about Ghama-2, the importance of this mission for mankind and his joy of having recruited the two of you. Richard told me that you are a retired secret agent John, a warfare and combat expert and yet, I see in you a compassionate, respectful and highly cultured man. No surprise that the Guardians have contacted you. And you my child, Joan, you are an interesting person. I believe I met you before; you were different at that time. There 88 are some souvenirs that I have difficulties to recall, souvenirs it seemed to me, from past lives. I read about many religions, some of which like Hinduism talk about reincarnations. I am not sure about it but it is possible. God might decide to bring some of us back in this world if it suits his grand plan. Anyhow, I understand why Richard is so proud of having you here tonight.” “Richard seemed to forget that we still have to buy one of his paintings to become part of the expedition.” said Joan. “And with all the people here tonight, I am not sure I have enough money to win a bid on any of the paintings.” “That’s true, even for me.” said John. “The Guardians believe that a superior entity has led them here and they will not interfere to make us win a bid. They believe that the ones who will acquire the paintings are probably the ones that entity, God perhaps, wants for the expedition.” “Oh boy, I didn’t think about that.” I said. I kept one painting for the President of the United States and I mailed one to my daughter. It never came to my mind that I might lose the two of you for that expedition.” “Let’s not forget that if it is God wish to have the four of us there, we will end up with one of the paintings.” said the reverend father. “Miracles happen sometimes.” The catholic priest was an imposing man, 6'3", and 245 lbs of heavy muscles. He looked more like a retired football player than a man who had consecrated his life to the word of God. He had a deep and soft voice, very kind eyes and it seems that everything he said had more than one meaning. What an interesting man, thought Joan, I would talk with him for hours on end and would never be less than totally fascinated. The father questioned us about Ghama-2 and our conversations with the Guardians. John told him about his conversations with these immaterial beings that called themselves the Guardians and the abandoned city 89 they had showed him. He told the reverend about the aliens, the predators and the demons that will be awaiting us, that will try to kill us as we move towards the city. "So," said Father O'Leary. "It will be a dangerous mission and our chances to get to the city and even get inside are slim at best. I have been in Somalia for the last three years preaching the word of God to terrorists and killers and against all odds I am still alive and here tonight. There is no point to worry about the difficulties of that mission; we will do our best. I never talked myself with the guardians, but I felt compelled to come here last week and buy the book. God has strange ways to influence things to go one way or the other without taking away from us our ultimate freedom. These guardians might not be aware of it but they may very well be acting under the influence of God. They suspect its presence and are hoping that He will be the one that will ultimately choose the members for that mission. I would have loved to communicate with the guardians. They probably know the answers to so many questions. I felt almost dragged here a few weeks ago when I bought the book. I pondered about it and prayed and felt that the story was true. I had the intuition that God wanted me to participate to that great mission." "If we all get one of the paintings, we will meet there on Ghama-2," said John. "You will be part of my group Father O’Leary. Seven of us will wake up there, at the same location and at the same time even though there might be years in between our last moments on Earth. The guardians told me it is the first time they came in contact with a specie like mankind with the concept of God and religions. It might have been quite a shock to them.” “Yes, “I added,” they are fascinated by the concept, they don't know for sure of God's existence and they never felt his presence but they were puzzled at the complexity of the universe and were really hit by our concept. Now, they think that the universe might have been designed, created by an entity that was there, that has always been there, always working on the making of it, redesigning it like a tapestry.” 90 “The guardians existed before the last big bang,” said John, “they have been there for so long they don't remember their beginning. They believe they are immortals but they are not sure. Maybe the demons could destroy one of them but they are in great number, living together, each one adding his own powers to the multitude. So far, they were able to resist the assault of the demons and even counteract their influence here and there during their travel across the infinite universe. They said there is on Ghama-2 a principle or a power stronger than them all of them together. It is protecting the planet against visitors and prevents anything to fly from one point to another at a speed greater than 100 miles per hour. Moreover, that principle prevents them to play a more active roll in helping the humans. It will let them transport a few humans on the surface but they feel that they are forbidden to do anything more. They are very puzzled by that. They think that if there is a Godly being in the universe, a Presence that created it, there is a chance that He or part of He is right there on Ghama-2. " "Fascinating," said Father O'Leary. "I am very happy to meet three of the people with whom I will share the coming odyssey." The auction is starting; there are about one hundred persons in the gallery and only a dozen paintings showing scenes of Ghama-2 are available. “I will start the auction now,” Said the auctioneer, “and as we told you in our invitations, there are some rules. The last bidder for each of the paintings will have to come to this desk and proceed in front of me to a bank wire transfer to the artist bank account. Once the transfer is done, you will imprint your thumb in the back of the painting and sign your name beside it. Once this procedure is done we will move on to auction the next painting.” "Joan," said John, "you might not have to disburse a large sum of money if you bid on the least interesting piece and I believe they will keep the most beautiful for the end. Let's play safe. If you agree, Reverend 91 Father, we will not bid against Joan on the first piece. She will be able to get it at a lower price. Then it will be your turn and I will not bid against you. " "My dear John, I have already chosen my painting," said Father O'Leary. "I want that piece over there. It has a religious meaning. You can see a cross, an urn half filled with red wine and over it the white circle represents the body of Christ. The poppies' field in the background is symbolic and represents the gathering that came out from the seeds of the preachers' words. I really want that one. " "So be it," said John. "We will not bid against you on this one." The first piece auctioned represented a couple of humans clothed like the ancient Romans traveling in a boat through an old city. Looking at it, we could have thought it was Venice but the landscape was different. The young man was carrying a sword on his back and his lady had a long knife at her belt. The colors were beautiful and I had done it with heavy pallet knife strokes. Many people were trying to buy it and so did Joan following John's advice. The bidding price went on from $1,000.00 and now reached $100,000.00. John looked worriedly at Joan but she went on bidding; $200,000.00; $300,000.00. Three hundred and fifty thousand once, twice, awarded to Joan Brunet for $350,000.00. "My God," said John as Joan came back from the auctioneer desk, "I didn't know you had that kind of money." "I just spent most of the money I had accumulated over the years and I had promised Nancy not to spend any money before she arrives here and meet you and Richard. But the money would have been useless since I am covering my expenses with what I get from the library. I didn't really need it except as a security. I would have left it to Nancy and Garry but the painting I just bought is for them too. It will belong to all three of us.” “Did you notice the two guys who were bidding against you Joan? They don’t look like the kind of guys the Guardians would have chosen as potential candidates. I sensed evil waves coming from them.” 92 “I am surprised, I said, “that they bided so high; they don't look like the kind of people that would let their money go easily. I don't see how they could possibly help our descendants in that mission." "I noticed them too," said Jan, "they are rotten sun of a ditch, excuse my language reverend father but I believe that's the only place they would shine." I could tell that Joan had some character and didn’t like to have been forced to buy the painting at such a high price by these two scumbags. I decided that I would reimburse her after the auction. The next painting to be auctioned was showing three ladies in an alien garden looking at the ocean. It was a night scene very appealing to a sailor like John. Many people wanted it including the two snobbish scumbags. Again the bids went on and on. John was trying to buy that one and was getting more and more annoyed as the biding went on and on. Finally he got the last bid at $600,000.00. He had just spent about all he had in bank. "I thought for a while that I wouldn't get one tonight." said John, taking a deep breath and releasing it loud enough for Joan to hear it. The third one was the religious theme. Joan, John and I were feeling sorry for the Abbott for we knew that he would not be able to buy one of the paintings at the price they were going already. But surprisingly, the father looked confident, he was even smiling. The auctioneer started the bids at $10,000.00 and nobody made a bid for it. I gave the auctioneer a sign to go down. I somehow knew that Father O'Leary should have that one but didn't have the money for it. "Who is going to offer $8,000.00 for that fine painting?” said the auctioneer. "Nobody? Let's say $5,000.00.” Father O'Leary raised his hand. "Five thousand once, twice, awarded to you Reverend Father for only $5,000.00, congratulations." 93 At that moment, the two snobbish men raised their hands and one cried “$20,000.00, I will pay $20,000.00 for it.” The other one shouted “$50,000.00” and suddenly everyone were raising their hands. Everybody now stood up shouting that the auctioneer had gone too fast, complaining that they didn't have time to raise their hands. Some were offering large sum of money to the father for his painting but he refused with a sympathetic smile. The reverend father proceeded to his wire transfer and came back to sit beside me. "Come now ladies and gentlemen," said the auctioneer, "it is too late for this one, let's proceed with the next one." "But I could not raise my hands," cried the snobbish man, "I tried but they wouldn't move." "We still have a few more paintings so you will have your chance." said the auctioneer. John, Joan and I were looking at the priest; we knew that we had just witnessed something extraordinary. The priest had his eyes closed now and was seemingly praying, thanking God probably for his help. "That is all I had, "whispered Father O'Leary to Joan, "I guess I will be joining you on Ghama-2." “That’s a miracle!” I said under deep emotions. “Something is going on here; I am starting to feel like we are pieces of a much larger game.” The auction went on. The auctioneer was now offering a scene of horse-riders on a wet beach galloping under a stormy sky. A beautiful woman got the last bid for one million two hundred thousand dollars. "I recognize her," said Joan, "she is a cinema star and I believe her name is Nicole Teaseman, a famous actor." “I mailed her the books with an invitation,” I replied, “but I wasn’t thinking she would be coming. I guess the guys of the second or third group will be very happy to share the adventure with her.” “For a man who is dying of a stomach cancer,” said Joan looking at me straight in the eyes, “you seemed to have kept all of your manhood.” 94 “I have to admit that I fantasized often about her but that was before I met you.” I replied unable to hide the attraction I had for Joan. Joan didn’t comment and I appreciated it for there was no point in telling me that she was already in love with John, a wonderful man who outshines me by a parsec. The next painting was showing two women on a castle balcony staring at the mysterious sea of Ghama-2. It was a night scene and we could see on the left another castle sitting on a hill with the USA flag. A tall man who seemed very sure of himself bought that painting. He looked like a king and was smiling contentedly. "That one is the king of the casinos, "said Joan, "he is Donald Rump a very rich man.” “My goodness, the luckiest people of the world have not failed to come.” I said. “I invited him as well as Bill Rates and Nicole Teaseman and they all came. These people must have an excellent gut feeling for rare opportunities; they are now getting a rich afterlife after having got all the richness they could on earth.” The next painting represented a princess sitting under a tent on the beach. She was looking at the sea. The two snobbish men and many of the other people in the gallery tried to buy it but again, the bidding went very high and finally a well-known lady got it. "That lady," said John "is none other than Elisabeth the Fifth, Queen of the United Islands." She was sitting only one row behind us and she was radiant. We had turned on our seats to look at her and she apparently knew who we were for she winked at Joan. "I guess I will meet with you one day." She said with a royal smile. One of the lucky buyers was also easy to recognize. It was Krishna, former undefeated welter weight boxing champion of the world, undefeated and five times 95 champion of Ultimate Fighting, undefeated karate champion of the world and he was walking with the agility and controlled power of a panther as he came back from the auctioneer desk with his painting in his hands. I looked at John’s face and I saw real admiration in the way he was looking at the ultimate fighter. “I watched all his fights.” said John. This man will be an incredible asset for his group on Ghama-2.” “I know John,” I replied, “I watched them too and this is why I mailed him an invitation along with the books.” Then there was a landscape executed in a novel way. These access key paintings should not fall into bad hands, I thought, too many strangers have bought one already, and these two evil men should not get one. I will tell the auctioneer that I am keeping the rest of the paintings except for that last one. I will sell the others later on to decent and worthy people. I went to the auctioneer and told him that except for that landscape, I wanted to keep the rest of the paintings. "The next one will be the last one," said the auctioneer. "The artist just decided to keep the others." Many of the people present showed their disapprobation. Some had come from far away to buy one of the paintings. The most indignant were the two snobbish evil men. It looked like they wanted to buy one at all cost now and apparently regretted not to have gone further in their bids. “These two men are getting desperate.” said John. “You took the right decision, in cutting short the auction.” “Yes I was getting afraid that some of the people buying those paintings were not the ones that should represent mankind on Ghama-2 and I would be surprised if these evil men get the last one.” I said. 96 “Why is that Richard?” asked the lovely Joan. “If you look in the back dearest,” I replied, “there is a man who has remained silent all through the auction. This is Bill Rates, the billionaire, the genius and I believe he will take the last painting.” "Attention, Ladies and Gentlemen," said the auctioneer, "we have that one left but it is the most beautiful and the biggest in size. Let us start the auction at $1 million." The two snobbish men looked at each other and suddenly one said to the other, "Let's buy it together." The other nasty looking fellow agreed and raised his hand. John looked at the quiet man that had not yet participated to the auction, Bill Rates. He had seen that man before at TV and He didn’t look special in any way except that the young man had built an empire in the computer software. He was considered one of the richest men in the world. The bids went on and on and had now reached the incredible sum of $40 million dollars and that last bid belong to one of the two evil men. Bill Rates raised his hand and said, "$100 Millions!" Everyone became silent; nobody was able to bid more than that. "One hundred millions once, twice, awarded!" said very quickly the auctioneer. All the buyers congratulated each other under the jealous gaze of the less fortunate ones. The two snobbish men left empty handed. They were furious and worried. They seemed to fear incoming punishment for their failure to buy one of the paintings. "You talk to me about them Richard and then the Guardians told me that they do exist and there are some of them on Earth and I now believe that these two men were sent by Demons." said John. "They would have been traitors to our race. I have the intuition of great dangers awaiting us. We may have to fight against more dangerous opponents than the alien species and the predators roaming the world of Ghama-2." "But we may have just experienced a miracle," said Joan. "Not one painting went for less than $350,000.00 with 97 the exception of the one our reverend father bought for $5,000.00. Incredible isn't it? Everyone looked to be in a trance, unable to move...Maybe our Father O'Leary is a kind of magician or else.... He may have been helped and if it is so, we might be helped in turn so I am not worried about this mission; we will not fail." John asked every one of the lucky buyers if they would come to a very special meeting the following Wednesday at 10:00 AM at Joan's condo. Everyone was willing to come and John told them to be ready for a trip that might last 2 weeks, possibly more. He would not say any more on it. "It is a surprise," John said smiling. "But it is very important." John had contacted a man just before the auction, a man whose life he had saved while he was working for the CIA. He had jumped on the gunman shielding his protégée with his own body, risking his life to protect George W. Wood, the governor. That man was now president of the USA. John had told him the story, he had told him all about the auction and Ghama-2 and George had believed him and invited all the chosen, the lucky buyers of the access-key paintings to Camp David for extensive training. The next few days, John and Joan went canoeing and fishing in the backwaters, between the ten thousand islands just south of Marco Island. They set down a cooler in the center of the canoe and John fixed a tiny motor to the square back of the 18 feet canoe. They sat down and John turned the motor on; twenty minutes later as they got far enough between the islands, he shut it down. They picked their oars and paddled noiselessly until they found a good spot. John anchored the canoe, and they secured the oars on its side to give themselves maximum maneuvering space. They had bought live baits, small fish and large shrimps. Joan liked to use the fish bait. She was casting it, making it bounce on the water towards the mangroves then reeling it back to the canoe. John just hooked on a shrimp making sure he was not piercing its heart and threw his line a few feet from the canoe. In two hours, she caught a three-pound Bass, two Red Snappers, one 98 pound each and a five pounds mullet. She caught some catfishes, which she threw back in the water. "They are good to eat but a little too slimy for my taste." She said. John used the shrimps and caught a few snooks and many catfishes. He kept the biggest snook and returned his other catches to their element. Small snooks have too many bones and not enough meat but the snook is considered the best catch in Florida. A big manatee surfaced close to the canoe and looked kindly at them. "It must be weighting many hundred pounds." Said John very interested. They stop fishing to observe it. It came very close to the canoe and Joan patted its head. After a while it left. They filleted the fish right there and threw the remains in the water; they wrapped the meat in plastic and placed it in the cooler covering it with ice. A few hours had passed already and they had enough fish so they returned to the condo to prepare their feast. Fried fish, French-fries and two bottles of excellent white wine. Joan's children arrived at Miami International airport Sunday late morning. Joan hugged them and kissed them on the cheeks. "I am so pleased to see you," said Joan. "Let me introduce you to the man that has brightened my last few days." Nancy and Garry shook hands with John and were surprised by his iron grip. John did not squeeze their hands very hard, just firmly. That was enough though for anyone to understand that he was still a man of exceptional strength and fitness. They took Alligator Alley to cross Florida and stop at midway for a snack. They stopped again about fifteen miles from Naples to have a look at the biggest alligators you could find in Florida. Hundreds of them were lying side by side on the bank of a narrow arm of unmoving water. "How they can find enough to eat for all of them is beyond me." said John. 99 "Can you imagine driving on that road before they fixed fences on both sides?" said Joan. "People must have been blocked sometimes and probably reached Naples with a few teeth marks on the bumpers." That night, they had Szechwan food; spicy orange beef, spicy shrimps vegetable, white rice, won ton soup and egg rolls. Joan had warmed up some sake and they had a good time. John told them the whole story about Ghama-2, the book, and his contacts with the guardians, the incoming mission and his intention to have them join his team. Joan showed them her new painting. Our painting she said, since I spent almost all the money I had kept for your inheritance. Nancy and Garry believed John. They felt his sincerity and even though the story was preposterous, they had the intuition that it was true; all of it... They were in awe, excited but certainly not ready to leave their life the day after to go there. "It's great," said Nancy, "that we don't have to die all at the same time. I don't think I would abandon my life here before I even have a chance to do some of the things I had plan for my future. But now we have it all, our life on earth and then an afterlife on Ghama-2. That's cool." "It's cool,” said John, “but there are some important changes coming to your life. I hope you will accept what you will be proposed next week..." And John wouldn't tell what. Nancy and Garry were very interested to know everything about John and they questioned him for hours on end. He had to tell them about his past missions, his experience, his philosophy and what he thought was the purpose of life..... to read the rest of that fascinating story please buy my book it is a story that will touch you, one that you will remember the rest of your life. It is written in a light humorous way but it touches matters that are important to all of us. Richard Riverin |