Psychic

by F. P. Dorchak

  … shifting, blinking… in and out… creating existences… stretching, contracting energies…

  The three were dizzy with choices… excitement… probabilities…

  Each experienced… a joyous frustration… picked specific routes to explore, while other portions of their consciousnesses traveled down still other routes of exploration…

  The trio shot through colorful, multidimensional layers of matter and antimatter, solidity and thought, came upon a nonvisual nexus of multidimensional emotion… multidimensional concept. Plunged through mass and nonmass… were outside as well as within concepts. Experienced simultaneous dreams, simultaneous existences… experienced the only thing they focused upon — but also experienced multiple layers of concept and reality, as if those were the only things they experienced…

  It was like drinking from a most delicious fire hose.

  Images and events whirled past at implausible speeds, stole their breaths. They felt gently, lovingly guided — directed toward a particular concept…

  Laughter.

  The laughter of children…

  They diverted toward that laughter.

  Experienced… lives and souls and ideas… all formed in a cosmic instant… an instant that caused and brought forth and was formed by these ideas… ideas that had also caused the moments themselves, that had brought about the ideas… no time… there was No Time… though they briefly experienced that physical concept… everything… simply was… any and all concepts and ideas already fully formed and expressed… in a present that knew no past nor future, only a single, powerful, all-pervading Now…

  A spacious, past-present-future Present.

  The laughter of the children drew them in — they experienced the reality behind this laughter… explored its concepts… existence… origins…

  Children.

  Incalculably billions of them.

  Their very concept… birth, rebirth, youth, and energy… the gaining of knowledge… wasn’t so much about age… as about phases of development… consciousness… of physical, conscious exploration. Concepts and reality were formed… learned… used… tested and refined…

  Movement… there was movement of knowledge in the concept of children, of youth… a concept inserted into physical reality… a concept untried and untested in initial, physical existence, yet always having existed within it… a concept… initially only thought of… seeking expression… seeking explosive fulfillment…

  The three found the chosen moment-point of its expression… an archetypal manifestation that served as a design across all existences… an initial physical expression that attracted and selected other concepts to test… nonphysical concepts inserting themselves into physical existence… seeking and fulfilling both physical and nonphysical expression… an energy expression that instantly formed… translated… its nonphysical concept into physical expression… yet had always been expressed…

  This writhing, dynamic energy for this concept became Children… they followed one of countless probabilities, and it gathered portions of itself of similar, refined consciousnesses not yet tainted by the created physical, Earthly realities of those already living it… of other portions of its concept… and formed this energy under two charismatic leaders in a time early in the development of another nonphysical energy concept… that of Adults… and together explored themselves and the physical world in which they existed… gathered their combined energies… and put their concepts into physical motion…

  Formed a crusade… a Children’s Crusade… another physical expression of a nonphysical energy concept into Earthly existence… that marched across a ravaged and middle-aged (Adult) land during a medieval Holy War… but as the concept explored itself, came into fruition, it discovered it hadn’t yet gained the necessary knowledge needed for adequate physical expression… to properly flourish, properly endure. Having transmogrified into a physical manifestation, it became immediately couched within the physical constraints… the physical properties that not only translated the nonphysical into physical, but also propelled its translated physical models and their properties into action… but were not adequately converted… prepared… and the concept quickly lost focus… faltered… began to dissipate… and in doing so, withdrew much of its energy from physical expression…

  The children’s medieval crusade fell apart.

  Focus was lost, many died… were captured… sold into slavery. Murdered and abused. In a land not ready for it… by a concept not properly prepared for physical expression…

  The concept had failed.

  But the three discovered another thread… one in which this same concept — or a more refined, prepared version of it, with many of its original conceptual energy and expressed physical components — were again preparing for another manifestation… in a different time… with new knowledge gained from other expressions more properly prepared. This new articulation involved… a new breed… a more particularly suited energy expression… reinserting themselves into a more appropriate physical time expression… thousands, initially, millions eventually… would come from all levels of physically translated concepts of culture… to a time more encouraging to the concept… more needful of it. The concept would be noticed as different from the very beginning… would not make the same mistakes… would teach and bring about new paradigms… a New Breed of global, epic transformation that would go beyond the very medium and concepts in which it existed… materialize new schools of thought… new learning. They would be unstoppable.

  And this time would not fail.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  1

  Travis, Kennedy, and Lizzie thoughtfully mulled over their Gettysburg battlefield experiences, including the multiple outcomes for the Black and Kennedy soldier personalities.

  This wasn’t the end of things, was it? they asked the Man With No Name.

  No, he answered. It’s more of a beginning, a continuation.

  Why was Black so angry at me? Kennedy asked, as they “returned” to the abandoned missile silo.

  “Black was spun up,” the Man With No Name said, “by events of the world in which he was to become a part. The concepts of good and evil — while not inherent to Existence itself, with a capital ‘E’—became inherent to the Human condition, with a capital ‘H,’ and, therefore, Black’s makeup. Because of this belief, other indicators and events were also spawned. Black is not unique in this sense. There are many like him, many situations like his. He is but one version of many ‘Blacks’ and many realities, as you have also just experienced — and of which you are all similarly a part. Mass events take on lives of their own, attract similar events of their own.

  “In simpler terms, ‘like attracts like.’”

  “So… wereah like Black?” Kennedy asked.

  “The mechanics of your existences are, but we each choose the lives we live, go where we need and want to go, for our own purposes. Black, unfortunately, the one we all know, here, is what I’d term an ‘Angry Soul.’

  “All physical matter springs from nonphysical sources — frameworks — dreams,” the Man With No Name continued, “the Cosmic Grid you visited — and Black came to be because of specific en mass circumstances. Given his creation, he was also granted a desire to be — just like anything and anyone else. He hadn’t planned on becoming the individual you all know, but that doesn’t excuse him from who and what he is. He was actually spun off from another — someone else — and you, Travis,” the Man With No Name said, addressing Travis directly, “you and your world changed things as part of your business.”

  “We did?”

  No sooner had Travis spoken the words, when the answer formed in his mind.

  “You were all given tasks,” the Man With No Name said, “tasks you thought were to remotely view intelligence data. Since you rarely got feedback or responses from your efforts, you never really knew exactly what you were doing, did you?”

  Travis shook his head, his annoyance appare
nt. “No.”

  “Though many of your efforts indeed involved intelligence reconnaissance, many also involved highly secret retaskings from Black himself, who’d gone — unknown to anyone but himself — into the vaults and safes and swapped out many of the tagged and sealed envelopes with his own taskings… retaskings that actually involved changing events in your physical framework. And he did this both physically and nonphysically. When you focus on something, you bring it into being… somewhere.”

  Travis again shook his head. “Just goes to show you, you can never trust anything in covert ops.”

  The Man With No Name nodded. “That is the very nature of the business. No one really knows who’s doing what to whom. Now… were we to follow the threads of Black’s anger and hatred… as you all did during that battle experience, but also at various times over Black’s life as you know it… you would have seen he cursed our president’s soul. Had we followed this further, as I did, we would have found that he’d vowed vengeance upon Mr. Kennedy and his entire family.”

  “But why?” Kennedy asked, “just from that little fight in my study — oh, maybe the appointment interview when I, ah, changed…”

  “It’s much more pervasive than that, Mr. President. Those were just symptoms of much deeper, underlying issues. Black had been harboring anger against you across lifetimes. Again, Gettysburg but one example.”

  Kennedy nodded.

  “You can choose to experience his other instances later, but to summarize, he’s angry that you never gave him the time of day.”

  Kennedy looked to the Man With No Name, puzzled.

  “Black’s anger is cumulative. He doesn’t consciously know why… but, unconsciously does. Earlier I mentioned he was spun off from another — that other, Mr. President, is you.”

  “Me?”

  “He is what we’ll call a ‘fragment.’ A fragment of your personality, one that was never given much attention, energy, nor notice… from you. He never quite gained the knowledge or acceptance of himself as his own unique personality, his own unique existence. Always felt inferior and in need of competing for your attention. At times, you, or portions of you, including your current incarnation, have felt the need to beat him back.”

  Kennedy shrugged guiltily, grimacing.

  The Man With No Name nodded. “Black has been killed many times by versions of yourself, sir, and it is not so much the killing that bothers him, as the way in which Black perceives your careless nonchalance toward him. Deep down, you do understand your ties with him… but have never quite accepted it. It’s always bothered you… you’ve always felt him more of a nuisance than the part of you he is and has always striven to be — like the parents who never wanted to be parents, yet still had to feed hungry little mouths or change poopy little diapers when they could have been out on the town. Your personality has always had a rather monumental… sense of self, let’s just say. Self-importance would be another way of putting it. Sometimes your personality would let itself get in the way and other times not, but on the whole, averaged out across all your entity’s reincarnational personalities, you have taken a rather indignant offense to this little ‘poopy diaper’ of yours crying out for attention! Why should you have to change his diaper, feed his soul. ‘Get your own life!’ you’d cry, ‘change your own damn diaper, and quit trying to steal my thunder,’ you’d admonish. For that reason, Black’s anger has accumulated across lifetimes of denial and inattention — both from you and himself. It constantly fed and reinforced itself until it became as foul as it is. It’s that simple. You should have been as a parent and a sibling, and you were neither. You each knew and know of each other’s presence in each life you’ve lived, yet you both tended to continue literally beating each other to death, rather than take on the much more important and harder task of reconciliation.

  “This needs to end.

  “You and he both need to resolve your issues, once and for all — or this will continue. You need to better integrate yourselves. You can never advance until you get beyond this. In fact, you have some lives where you actually become brothers, and later, husband and wife—”

  “Oh, Lahd,” Kennedy said, “that ought to be interesting…”

  “It is!” the Man With No Name said. “Those lives will have an indescribably rich, incredibly tremendous impact upon your soul’s growth and will remedy your situations — if you properly handle and deal with each other.”

  Kennedy momentarily re-experienced threads of Black’s anger and the constant re-ignition of his hatred toward him — as well as his own continued indifference and lack of concern. In any way Black could, Kennedy saw, he killed and killed and killed Kennedy’s various personalities, the soul that was John Fitzgerald Kennedy — and, Kennedy (in turn) returned the favor. It was a neverending vicious cycle.

  “No wonder people do the evil they do,” Kennedy said. “How do we resolve this?”

  “Tackle it head on — but gently. You need to take the lead and confront both of your selves — your own interior issues as well as those exteriorized in the form of Black and all his personalities — and to do so between lives as well as during them. Make amends… in any way possible. In fact, in your remaining lives — and I’m not telling you anything you haven’t already decided upon yourself and already put into action — you actually take the less-dominant roles, to allow him the upper hand. It helps tremendously.”

  Kennedy nodded. “It can’t be rectified in this life?”

  The Man With No Name shook his head. “Sadly, no, I’m afraid not—”

  “Right, I see—”

  “It’s actually more than that. As you can see, he’s absolutely seething… and each life, whatever its consequences, has to complete to its logical conclusion. Yes, he will continue to curse and rue your very existence and will continue to plot your deaths… but he will, eventually, lose that energy and hatred when you begin to remove your indifference and resentment toward him. In fact, sir, there is one very real reality where Black foisted his ills and issues upon you,” he said, gesturing to Kennedy, “even had you publicly assassinated. Lizzie picked up on it.”

  Lizzie nodded.

  “Wow,” Travis said, “it’s like the ultimate conspiracy.”

  The Man With No Name nodded. “It is indeed.”

  “So, which reality is the real, baseline reality?” Travis asked.

  “There isn’t one. All realities are probable versions of each other. It’s just that when your point of focus is in any one of them, it seems like the one, true reality. I’m trying to show you otherwise. Think differently about any so-called ‘rock bed’ reality…

  “But, back to our story. Once you, Mr. President, and Black begin to work together, he, as you presently know him, will begin to dissipate.”

  “But all realities ahr given free reign,” Kennedy said.

  “Yes, they are. But again, as you restructure your thoughts, your feelings toward him, these other realities, though they will always exist, will begin to lose their steam and dissipate from your focus. Remove your focus from those probabilities, and the one you do focus upon will become the reality that the both of you live within.”

  2

  “… now, actions and events,” the Man With No Name continued, “can either exist as physical or nonphysical expressions — but no matter the medium — either one can just as powerfully and easily affect both physical and nonphysical existences.”

  As the Man With No Name continued to speak, accompanying images played out before each of the three.

  “When our Black and Mr. President, here,” the Man With No Name said, directing a glance to Kennedy, “began their ‘lesson,’ I came into being. I’ll skip the specific mechanics involved and get right to the more salient. In your world, Black had the people under him performing their work, or ‘taskings,’ as they call it, in changing history — all without their conscious knowledge. As each remote viewer did so, each set up such a psychic storm within them that though they didn�
�t consciously know or understand what they were doing, they certainly knew and understood unconsciously. Each of them — you,” the Man With No Name said, looking to Travis, “took on your roles for your own purposes, but other portions of each of you were also involved in this setup to help Black… see the errors of his ways. Things were getting out of control. Incredible amounts of angst — translated: energy — were generated by these nefarious and oftentimes downright evil acts. Each became psychically and metaphysically frustrated, and it was near impossible to break through into your consciousnesses, because Black knew what was going on. He had planned for it and was actively blocking any attempts by you and your team to break free of the hold he held on you. Well, ‘blocking’ is a poor choice of words… let’s say, redirecting. He thought he was blocking your efforts, but what he was really doing was actually only choosing to focus in on the reality he wanted. It didn’t negate other realities, just blinded himself to them. Anyway, this, unknown to him, gave me all kinds of room to grow. He just didn’t know that no matter what you did, once you spun something up, it continued to create as long as there was some kind of energy directed toward it. As I said, no focus, no directed energy and intent, and an event will continue on only as long as that energy it does have is enough to sustain it. Nothing lasts forever in the same form in which it exists, and everything does, eventually, change. Where that energy goes is subject for other discussions.

  “So, what does happen is that there are eventual ‘bleed throughs’ that occur from the nonphysical realms. In addition, Black couldn’t possibly plan for everything, as much as he thought he could. Efforts in the nonphysical realms routinely sneak through cracks in realities — which explains, Travis, your Buddy LaRouque in the restaurant, et cetera.”

  “We were trying to get through to each other,” Travis said, mulling it over. “I mean… I kind of figured that was going on, but was so mired by current events I didn’t see the deeper meaning…”