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Authors: Geoffrey Condit

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BOOK: Children of the Source
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    I remember asking my Entity several times about past lives, but always got ‘you don’t want to know’.
  Now I understood a little.  They weren’t
my
past lives but my Entity’s.  Many of these lives were horrible, short, and filled with great hardships of suffering and pain.  I had seen them in the corridor of dreams.  The reasoning behind them was beyond me.  I had access to the essence memories, but I wasn’t responsible for what other personalities had done or not done with their lives.  I wasn’t responsible for what my Entity did or didn’t do.  This life was new, and I was new, though carefully programmed by my Entity for this moment in time.  That wasn’t encouraging or settling considering what was going on.  I looked at the clock.  It was early.  I was determined to meet this creature that had created me and get some answers.

    I slipped into sleep again, and found myself on a sunny patio before a lighthouse amid pine trees overlooking a blue-green sea.
  Turning, I faced a mature man in his early forties, silently watching me with eyes that seemed to hold endless experience.  He perched on an ornamental blue rock.  An aura of good humor and genuine interest radiated from him.  “Jamie,” he said.  “We’ve been avoiding each other.  You have been afraid of what you might find, considering the bits and pieces you’ve encountered.  They’ve made no sense and often produced fear and loathing.  I understand this.”  He jumped down in one fluid movement, grace itself, and stood behind a wooden bench hands resting on the back.  “When I created you, I had no intention of sharing my past.  That would trouble anyone who didn’t understand it.  But the personalities we program and create have free will and independence that we cannot impinge on.  That is part of the cost of creating something out of yourself.  You must give the ultimate gift - total freedom.  Personalities we create often surprise us, as you have me.  You have insisted on understanding more than I expected.”  

    He frowned and looked around, then grew a grove of giant hundred foot ponderosa pines around us, giving a more protective air to the patio.
  Filtering the sun into more dappled shadows and lowering the temperature slightly. “Better.  Always liked tall pines.  And lighthouses.  This lighthouse has a lower story with a long library study that overlooks the sea.  Places for favorite books.  Overstuffed chairs, desk, fireplace, and a small kitchen.  Wonderful pieces of art displayed just the way you like them.”  He watched me and smiled.  “I recommend creating one when you come over on this side.”         

    “Why all the terrible short lives ... ”
  I began.

    “W
hat happens to the personalities after?”  he finished for me.  “First,
we
know we are eternal.  Our personalities do not.  We learn from our personalities believing everything is real.  They are bread and butter ... ”

    “You’re rather like vampires sucking up your personality’s experiences.”

    He winced.  “Crude, but true.”

    “Say you created an orphaned child in Victorian England who was used as slave labor in the new industrial mills.
  The child dies of malnutrition, beatings, and pneumonia.  Why do that?”  I said.

    “Okay.
  Look at your essence memories.  You have certain things you absolutely will not do.  Violating other life-forms.  Where did you get this reverence for all life?  From lives I created in other times.  What happens to these abused personalities is what you really want to know?”

    “Yeah.
  What is their compensation for a short disastrous life?  What happens to them?”   I could feel my anger welling, and felt a familiar energy calm me.  The anger almost made me lose my focus.

    “First, they have free will.
  They die and come over in various mental, emotional, and physical conditions.  They have no definitive idea of where they came from and who we are.  We contact them.  Sometimes that’s hard considering what they’ve been through.  They often become trapped in the belief systems they acquired in their lives.  We work them through that gradually.  Those we created with mental, emotional, physical problems and defects find themselves made whole.  We use many techniques. 

   
“Going to the Light is popular.  Entities take any forms that are comforting to the personality - religious heroes, pets, friends, relatives and so on.  There are rest homes available for the traumatized.  There are orders of Beings that help in this regard.  Some Entities are quite immature and will ignore their personalities once they have come over.  There are Beings that help here too.“  He stopped taking a deep breath.  ”You’d like to hear there is natural justice for an abused life, but there are no real compensations except the opportunity to learn.  Learning and growing are rewards in themselves.“

    “That awful.”  I snorted in disgust.  “It isn’t something people will want to hear.
  Why do I have so many abilities?”

    He smiled, but it wasn’t pleasant.
  “You have need of them.  There will be more to come.  This is not done lightly.  There is unfinished business from Adora and the wars with the eugenicists between Akenton and Mator.” 

    “Can they be settled without violence?”
  I asked.   The unsettled horrors of the eugenics laboratories almost overwhelmed me.  Again the calming energy.

    “Come.
  Walk with me.  I wish to show you some things.  How to answer your last question?  Settled is the right word.  Some can.  Some won’t.”  We walked into the  lighthouse, and I knew I’d been there before.  I felt at home.  I’d come home.  The/ intense emotion made the dream wobble.  My Entity placed a hand on my shoulder and I felt myself calm.  “This is your refuge.  A place you’ve been many times before to gather strength and information.  To decide on future courses in your life.”  He tapped my shoulder.  “Remember.” 

    Memories and experiences flooded me.
  All in the space of seconds.  But there was more to me than one life could contain.  I’d been doing things in the dream state that didn’t require time.  I’d been going to various schools without being consciously aware of it.  I had acquaintances from only in the dream state.  There were teachers and plain friends.  Places we went just to have fun.  It was a whole new part of me.  I felt my Entity smile.  “Good to introduce more of you to you.”

    “Why didn’t I know about this before?”
  I asked.

    My Entity laughed.
  “How many distractions do you need?  You’re on Earth to focus your energies in a specific direction.  If everyone remembered what they did in the dream state, they wouldn’t get any work done.  The Veil of Forgetfulness we call it.   A personality tool we use to keep a focus.  It’s almost always used.” 

    We walked down tiled stairs from the living room and kitchen to the spacious wood paneled library study.
  So familiar now.  Out on the large covered porch we watched a pod of whales blow and folic.  “Will this Veil be lifted?”

    “Only if you want it lifted.
  You can operate very successfully without it being lifted.  You have up to this point.”

    “Then keep it in place except when the information will help with our Earthly project,”
  I said.  We went back into the study.  “So how did you get involved with this Adora - Sound Language thing?”

    “Entities or Souls are drawn naturally to certain things and may not even know why.
  I and Marta’s Entity had been involved with building Adora - world and nation building.  It is a natural bent for us, and I suspect we got it from the Entities that created us.  The eugenicists started innocently enough, until Akenton got involved and focused on the negative - the dark side.”  He shook his head.  “Before we knew it, it got out offhand.”  He sat on the raised hearth before the cheerful crackling fire.

    “So, what am I to you?
  Where do you begin and I end for you?”  I said, lowering myself into a brown corduroy-covered easy chair.

    “That is hard to say.
  You never end for me.  My energy forms your flesh and other parts of your Being.  That is where begotten not made comes in.  Begotten is created out of yourself like a child.  Made is like you creating a chair out of wood.  Your free will defines you.  The tools of time, experience, and self-interest  allow you to grow away from me - like parent and child - you becoming a more independent self for better or worse.”  He smiled.

    “But you are my finest creation to date.
  Unlike a parent who leaves the scene because of time and circumstance, I will never leave.  I will keep my distance and honor your free will, but the connection will never be broken.  That is where the God thing come in - the eternal parent, but you are the boss.”  He took a deep breath.  “I can prompt you with information as in dreams, gut feelings, intuition, messengers in people with ideas, stories and experiences that will or could help, but you must be alert to them.  They are the Language of the Entity or Soul.  There are Beings that do this for personalities of immature Entities.  They are never alone.  The God thing again.  Love and caring are the most powerful forces in the Universe.  You will never be alone.  You will never be alone ... ”  I woke to tears soaking my T-shirt.

 

 

 

 

 

13

 

 

    In the days to come with the rush of new technologies changing how we lived, I almost forgot the problems that lay just under the surface.
  We now had unlimited power in our community and the surrounding area including the fort.  New types of lighting illuminated our homes and buildings, heating and cooling we had not known before, and all this added up to a comfort zone we had to get used to.  Refrigeration and freezing of food started up again.  In many ways it was a new world, without the shadows of the old.  Years ago intense Solar flares had ruined most of the satellites along with the businesses that depended on them.  The astronauts on the International Space Station had barely escaped with their lives when they bailed during a solar storm.  Whole new world.

    General Carson flew out to Cheshire early one morning with Derek Randolph, and a very tall man who had to unfold himself from his seat to get out of the chopper.
  “Brian Muldower.  Jamie.”  Carson gestured.  I accepted a firm handshake from the largest hands I’d ever seen.  Blue eyes and thick white hair. 

    “Brian,” I said, and immediately felt a need to act with great care.

    “Brian is Director of National Intelligence, Jamie,” Carson said.

    Brian’s blue eyes studied me speculatively from his great height.
  “I’ve heard superhuman things about you, Jamie.  What do I do with you?” 

    I felt slammed against a wall, breathless with panic with no place to go.
  Inner panic, traced back to a past personality, a Spanish converso, dying in an auto-da-fe, tortured, finally strangled and burned at the stake by the Spanish Inquisition.  God Almighty, what Entities do to their personalities.  I pushed the personality away.  I smiled. “You do nothing with me, Mr. Muldower.  I am not a disease, nor a criminal.  I have broken no law.  I was born and raised in Flagstaff.  I am not yours to command.” I paused, seeing the shock on his face.  He spoke for a nation and he knew it.   He wasn’t used to anyone challenging him in anyway.  To allow myself into his power and control was out of the question.  “You and this nation, this world, have nothing to fear from me or the aliens.”

    Muldower’s lips turned thin and his eyes examined me; he was not intimidated in the slightest.
  I could feel the gut catching fear from the converso, and shoved it away again.  Muldower’s Entity had a personality who had been an inquisitor who enjoyed the power and the terror he brought into people’s lives.  The converso had been one of his victims.  I smiled at him, knowing. 

   “Are you an alien, Jamie?”

   How to answer?  Was there anything safe to say?  Here was a man, not like Hensley who was bound by his personal prejudices and spoiled with parochial righteousness.  Muldower was a man to step carefully around.  I could not let personal fears and emotion get in the way.  Nations went to war on his decisions like when ‘I’ was Kodus.  This was playing out again in Cheshire.  Likes and dislikes had nothing to do with it.  I had to convince him that we - me and the aliens - meant him and our world no harm. “Obviously not, Mr. Muldower.  I have unusual abilities for unusual times.  But as the General and others can testify, they have never been used to hurt, only to help.  That is the information you need to use to make decisions.”  What could I use to convince this man of our good intentions?  Somewhere in his Essence Memories I needed to find an experience that would touch him, change him.  I sent another portion of myself to explore.

    Inherent in every Essence Memory lies all that created it.
  The whole experience, every person, every emotion, from every angle.  These all can be accessed if you know how.  Muldower needed to walk in someone else’s shoes.  He needed to feel vulnerable, without control.  He needed to experience the converso’s terror in all of its ramifications, the ruined life, the spoiled future, potential that would never bear fruit, and the aching realization that he had destroyed it without need.  His Entity was happy to help get the message across.  But how?  We decided to use sudden intuition, dreams, and some personal experiences.

    Muldower said, “You are remarkably sure of yourself, Jamie.
  Abilities like yours are dangerous.”

    The General said easily, “Agreed, if the person with the abilities is aberrant or a criminal.
  That is not the case here, Brian.  This not a problem.”

    “I am concerned that Jamie could become the center of a cult or movement.”

    The General shook his graying head.  “He is the antithesis of such a person, Brian.  The man has ethics.”

    “Not morals?”
  Brian arched an eyebrow.

    “Morals, Brian, are cultural.
  Invented to promote and support a culture and its institutions,” I said.  “Ethics are principles and standards of personal conduct.”

    “Good and evil?”
  Brian looked down at me from his great height. 

    “I don’t like the term
evil
. What I mean is creating behavioral boundaries you don’t cross.  Not violating yourself, others, and the Earth.”

    “In other words ... ?”
  Brian squinted his eyes, and pursed his mouth.

    “Not lying, cheating, stealing, and hurting others physically, psychically.
  Helping others when you can.  Not violating other species if you can help it.  Things like that, Brian.”

    “Wonderful words, Jamie.” Brian
’s lips twisted.  “Words to live by.  But everything is not black and white.” 

    “True, but you need to create limits for yourself, or you can go off the deep end.
  Digging yourself out can take a long time.”

    “A code of conduct.
  And?”

    “The Middle Path,” I suggested
.  “The eightfold path to wisdom.”

    “Buddha.
  I can buy that, Jamie.”  He tapped my wrist cuff.  “That’s related to the aliens.  How am I suppose to take that?”  

    “The Entity I am a part of had a life on another world with these aliens.
  This cuff is from that life.”  God.  What must he be thinking?

    “That’s astonishing.
  I heard about the box opening only to your
energy frequency
.  Is that right, Colonel?”  Derek nodded.  Muldower smiled without humor.  “Do you think there is a conflict of interest here?  How am I suppose to take this bit of information, Jamie?”  He turned to the General.  “Help me understand this, Will.  Is this credible information?”

    General Carson said, “Three weeks ago I’d have said this is all crazy.
  Now,  I have experienced Jamie’s abilities from saving my life to healing himself from what should have been a fatal wound.  Also ruining a rifle at a distance.  You’ve seen the rifle.  It’s all there.  Credible information, Brian.”

    “So, these aliens.
  This eugenics concern.  They’re bent on stopping this on our planet.”

    Derek handed Muldower the computer screen.
  “This is what happened on a planet they
were
living on.  They’re afraid it could happen
here
.”  Derek reached over and turned the screen on. 

    Brian recoiled at the images.
  “They would do that here?”

    “Eventually, when they developed the technology,” I said.
  “There are Entities, who believe in eugenics, who are sending personalities to be born here to start eugenics programs.  They are already doing this to a certain point.  The genetic modifications of plants and animals are part of this.  What you are seeing on the screen are things that happened on the other planet.”

    “This is disastrous.
  Many of these are people.”  Brian stared at the screen, clearly shocked, at the changing scenes.

    “They have to be controlled somehow, Brian,”
  I said, “before they get to the point where they can do that.”

    He looked at me with open dislike.
  “I’d prefer you call me, Mr. Muldower.  We know each other somehow and it doesn’t feel good.”  I could feel his need to run and be away.

    Carson and Randolph stared at Muldower, and then at me.
  I nodded,  “Think, Mr. Muldower.  Think of your love for the Spanish culture of Spain.  It’s hard beauty, and your love of red.”  The Spanish converso raged forward, and it took all my power to keep him under control.  I forced him back.

    He recoiled.
  “How could you know?” 

    “Oh, we know each other.
  You will dream of that time tonight.  And of another time which will comfort you.  Then when you’ve digested it, come back and we’ll talk.  I’ll fill in the gaps for you and flesh out the picture.  Our relationship is not irreparable.”

    Muldower’s face steeled and frosted. “Nothing is irreparable, Jamie.”

    “I am encouraged, Mr. Muldower,” I said.  I left the three of them to consult with our council, and went off to give Muldower the space he needed.  I was shaken.  The incident with the converso and Muldower left me wondering where it would lead.  Muldower was a linchpin we needed.

    That night I visited Muldower’s Entity where we crafted a dream for Muldower feeling both the roles of the Inquisitor and tortured converso.
  We watched Muldower immersed in and feeling both roles; the cold imperious inquisitor examining the terror stricken converso, and the helpless agony of the converso with no place to go; his life, family, livelihood and future shattered in ruins.  Muldower twisted in his sleep, consumed with the terror, and the wanting of what could have been.  

    I watched him as he woke in a sweat, peed, and then hunched on the side of the bed in the Bachelor’s Officers quarters at the fort, too rattled to go back to sleep.
  He picked up a pad of paper and wrote the dream down.  Then about an hour later, swearing at me under his breath, he lay back down and prayed for peaceful sleep.  Slowly he drifted until he was deep enough to enter another dream.

    He found himself the inquisitor again as a young woman was escorted in more angry than terrorized.
  “You have been accused of practicing Jewish rites,” he said, staring down at her from his raised desk. 

    “I am a true daughter of the Church.
  Not a conversa.  This is not true.”

    Muldower looked at the papers before him.
  “Your great-great grandmother on your mother’s side was a conversa.”

    “I was not aware of that.
   The Queen’s great grandmother was a conversa.  Who is my accuser?  Ha, I know.  That fat greedy neighbor who wants to put me out of business and get me into bed.  I am a widow making an honest living for myself and my three children.  These are dangerous lies.   Planted by a man willing to subvert you unwitting to evil and serve the Devil.”

    “Senora, I will decide that.
  Your defiance does not bode well.  If you do not confess, we can put you to the question.”  He liked her spunk, and felt an odd camaraderie with a strange need to protect her.  Family.

    “Torture.
  Of course I will confess anything under torture, but it doesn’t mean it’s true.  So, do you want the truth or do you want to torture me?  What do you want me to confess to?  I will, of course, do it.”  The young woman’s mouth wrinkled, and she looked down at her shaking hands.  Images of the ruined converso dying in an auto-da-fe entered Muldower’s mind.

    “It is possible your neighbor is trying to ruin you by using us.”
  He motioned his captain of the guard. “You will bring this man to our court immediately.  To use us to subvert the will of God is inexcusable.  You, Senora, are free to go.  We will examin your greedy neighbor.”   The dream eased, but not the satisfaction of saving the woman.  Muldower sat up in bed, and stared at the gathering dawn.  I left, after thanking Muldower’s Entity, and went back to my body.

    “Long night, my love?”
  Judith stirred beside me.

    “Yep, you could say that.
  Mr. Muldower had some interesting experiences in his dreams.  Might give some closure for a wounded personality of my Entity.”  I lay there watching the dawn grow into the gathering morning.

     “Think he’ll come around?”
  Judith snuggled, putting her head on my shoulder.

    “Can’t say.
  It was intended to be instructional.  I’m hoping he will see the aliens in a more favorable light, and give us some breathing room.”

    “And you too?”

    “Yeah.  That would be good.  I’m concerned he will look at these abilities as a bogeyman stuff - something to be feared - and lump me in with them.  He is already aiming himself in that direction.  Sometimes, for that reason, I wish they’d never come.  I couldn’t live successfully in the world before The Change with these abilities.”

    “Everything happens in its own time for a reason.
  You’re protected here.”

    “I hope.
  I know I need them for the future.  There are those out there who will try to derail this meeting, and the good that can come of it.”

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