by Judy Carroll
top/bot
Chapter 44 9/11
“What’s the matter with you? You look bloody awful!”
“Gee thanks, Paco. You really know how to make a person feel good about themselves,” I replied, making a valiant attempt to focus my thoughts through a bleary-eyed fog of nausea. Resisting the urge to throw up all over him, I made it to the bathroom — just. Emerging five minutes later feeling a little better, I found him waiting in the hallway for me.
“Ali, seriously, what is wrong? I’ve never seen you looking so sick. Come on, go back to bed and lie down. Here, I’ll help you. Do you want me to call the doctor?”
“No, no, I’ll be fine once I take some aspirin. My God, I don’t know what the heck happened last night, but when I got back from ‘upstairs,’ this terrible headache came on. It’s making me feel so sick. Sometimes I get a slight headache after a heavy night’s work, but never this bad. Lucky I don’t have classes today and I can stay in bed. What I really need is sleep. Please, Paco, just get me some aspirin and a glass of water — that’s all I want.”
“Okay, but are you sure you’ll be all right? I don’t like leaving you on your own, but I have to go out for a while.”
“Honestly, I’ll be fine. I just need to sleep.”
By the time Paco arrived home later that morning, I was up and about and feeling a little better, but now he was the one looking pale. “Ali, something terrible has happened. Look, it’s all over the front page of the paper. There’s been a really serious terrorist attack in America.”
One glance at the headlines brought another stabbing pain to my head, causing me to stagger slightly. Luckily a chair was handy. Graphic images of horror, mayhem and broken bodies exploded into my conscious mind, bringing with them the clear and sickening recall of the past night’s work. Accompanying these images was an overlay of the events of a night exactly three weeks ago, of the failure of our surveillance system up on the big disc, and of our frantic attempt to repair the damage — to get the system back up and running as quickly as possible.
“Ali, what is it? What’s wrong? Is this what made you sick this morning? Were your people helping out over there?”
For a few moments I couldn’t manage to answer him. The whole thing was just so overwhelming. Surely in the time our system was out of action such a massive tragedy could not have been set in motion. But all it takes sometimes is a very small cause to result in a catastrophic effect. And it was exactly three weeks to the very day — the very hour in fact. It could not be coincidental. I didn’t want to acknowledge this, even to myself, but I knew deep down — I just knew it.
“Oh, my God!” I finally managed to respond. “So this is why our surveillance system was sabotaged up on the disc.”
For the next week or so I really came to appreciate how lucky I was to have my brother Paco on hand as a professional counselor, because recall of each night’s healing work and the awful things witnessed at the scene were clearly etched into my human consciousness every morning. It was my duty as a gray Guardian to be there helping out. I had no choice in the matter, for this is what part of our work entails.
What made it even harder was the fact that Kaz’s daughter Kira was involved as well. Even though she was still very young, it was a facet of her Guardian training to be there, under my care, but this made things twice as hard for me. Apart from doing my own work, I had to worry about her too, making sure she was safe, trying to keep her away from the worst of it, and trying to mitigate its effect on the Earth-human level of her psyche.
The attack had involved hijacked airliners being flown directly into New York’s high-rise World Trade Center to cause maximum damage and loss of life, so the number of dead and injured was very high. With the Elder Oris’s help, I managed to keep Kira away from the worst scenes by assigning her the equally important task of giving healing energy to the many human rescue workers on the site. She did this by placing her hands on their shoulders at every opportunity as they took even just a few minutes break from the massive and heart-rending task of search and rescue that lay ahead. We of course were in our astral forms, invisible to normal human sight, but it was clear that they were still benefiting hugely from the healing and strengthening energy that we channeled to them to assist them in their work.
With thousands of tons of debris to dig through, there was no way that many of the victims could be reached by human hands, but Grey and Angel hands are a different matter entirely in such a situation. With our ability to move easily through seemingly solid objects, even the most deeply buried victim could be reached and given comfort, healing and hope.
Nobody was left to die alone. We did everything in our power to keep alive those people that had a chance of being rescued, and to telepathically touch the minds of the rescuers to try to lead them to places where buried survivors needed help. Those who could not be reached were not forgotten either. We stayed close beside them, placing comforting hands on them to ease their pain and fear, and helping to assist their passing so the suffering would not be prolonged.
One morning I awoke with the clear memory of moving through tons of rubble. Generally we floated a little above the ground because of all the dust, mud and debris, but on this occasion I was so distracted by everything around me that I’d forgotten to do this. Suddenly I pulled up short, realizing with a shudder that I’d been about to step on a dismembered human trunk — no head, no arms, no legs — just a decomposing trunk.
Through it all we worked side by side with the Angels. This actually provided a little humor at times among all the horror. Some of these highly evolved members of the Guardian consciousness can be a wee bit formidable, but most have a great sense of fun, and just like humans who work in the various emergency services, we also joked among ourselves to keep stress and tension at bay.
The way the two Guardian groups, Angels and Greys, work together would undoubtedly have caused some confusion for any human survivors caught up in it. I can guarantee that at least one survivor would have awakened in the hospital with an unnerving memory of seemingly being fought over by two very different-looking entities. One they would recall as being obviously angelic, dressed in a flowing white robe and looking like a perfected human being, whereas the other would have been clad in a long black cape, with two huge dark eyes set in a thin, skull-like face peering from beneath a hood or broad-brimmed black hat.
The human would, of course, assume that the Angel must have “won the battle,” wrenching them from the icy clutches of the black-clad “Grim Reaper,” thus saving their life. In fact, it would have been the other way around, because in such instances the Angels only take those who are meant to die, whereas the black-clad gray Guardians are there to give healing. If the human caught between the two survived to wake up in hospital, then the victor must have been the Grey.
On one occasion I was involved in such a tug-o-war situation with an angelic being. By this stage there were very few survivors left, and, moving through the rubble, I came upon two men trapped in a small pocket under great slabs of fallen concrete. One was dead and the other only just alive. I knelt beside him, placing my hands on his body to allow healing energy to flow. There was a team of human rescue workers close by, so there was still hope — if only he could be kept alive long enough for them to reach him. Just then one of the Angels appeared on the scene. “Come on, Alarca,” she said, “move back and give me room. I have to do an aura cleanse before I lift him out.”
“But the rescuers are so close!” I protested, feeling tears of tiredness and frustration welling in my eyes. “Can’t you let me work on him just a little longer. If only one more could be saved it would give people a little bit of hope, you know, it’d be like a miracle!”
“No, Alarca — it is his time!” The Angel’s voice was firm and final, but her hand gentle with understanding as she reached over and touched my arm, directing a flow of comfort and healing into my energy field. Then shifting her attention back to the human, she took both of h
is hands in hers. “Come on now,” she encouraged, “let me lift you up and out. It’s time for you to wake up!” The man’s inner sight opened at her touch, and I watched as his astral form rose up into a sitting position, leaving the discarded physical shell behind, lying broken and battered on the ground.
At first his face expressed shock and disbelief that such a thing could really be happening. His eyes shifted over to me then back to the Angel as a look of sheer, unadulterated bliss suffused his features with the dawning of full realization. His badly injured body was forgotten in the excitement of the moment as he rose easily into the Angel’s waiting embrace. She looked at me over the man’s shoulder, and I was left to bask in the warmth of a cheeky wink as the pair of them disappeared into the light.
“Hey, Alarca!” came another angelic voice from behind me. “There’s one over here you can help. You start giving her healing while I fetch Maris. The rescuers aren’t far away so maybe you’ll get your wish for a miracle.”
Once I’d completed the aura cleanse that both Greys and Angels carry out as standard procedure before either healing or lifting the person free of the container, Maris came over to kneel beside me. This cleansing prepares the person for whatever is to follow by balancing, harmonizing and clearing any blockages from their energy system so that the healing penetrates more deeply, or their passing is easier and less traumatic.
I made a mental note to offer this service to Maris as soon as an opportunity presented itself, because he looked totally exhausted. As a Guardian living a double life in human form, I manage to get a little time out when I am back in my Earthling container, but ones like Oris and Maris do not. More than a week had passed and they’d been there working almost continuously without a break. With so many people simultaneously transitioning or needing healing, the work load was huge for everyone. Just then Maris’s telepathic thoughts touched my mind with a request, “Alarca, when you get back into your human container after work tonight, can you please send me some Reiki — I’d really appreciate it! I also picked up on your idea of giving me an aura cleanse, and yes, I’ll have one of them too please, before you go home.”
“Of course I will,” I assured him, “and I’ll get Ashka on the job as well with the Reiki. Maris,” I went on, “there’s something I want to ask you. Did this attack happen because of our surveillance system being put out of action?”
“Yes, Alarca, most definitely. The three-week time delay happened because the time lines don’t quite synchronize.”
“What do you mean? I don’t understand.”
“Well, this attack was actually set in motion while our computers were down, but it didn’t manifest into physical reality until three weeks afterwards. I had a nasty feeling something like this was happening, and that’s why we were so frantic to get the system repaired, but we weren’t quick enough. As you know Alarca, there’s only so much we can do — some things are beyond us. After all, we are not God!”
“I know, Maris, but it really worries me that some Earthlings think we’re on the negative side and out to hurt them. I mean just think of all these people here who would have been left alone and unaided if we hadn’t been on hand to give them healing and comfort until they could be reached by the human rescue workers. Entil stayed beside one lady for nearly a week, being careful to show himself in a more angelic form so he wouldn’t scare her, giving her healing to ease her pain and to keep her alive until she could be rescued. It’s so frustrating, and almost as if some Earth humans don’t even want to know the truth about us.”
“Alarca, what you have to remember is that how an Earth human perceives us depends very much upon where they are in their own consciousness. It’s not so much about us but rather more about them. That’s the bottom line.”
“Okay, fair enough,” I sighed. “Maybe I’m letting my own Earthling consciousness get in the way too much. That’s also why I got so sick after that first night here, isn’t it?”
“Yes. You allowed human emotion to override your Guardian consciousness, and this threw your energy system out of balance. Even human rescue workers have to undergo many hours of rigorous training to learn how not to become too emotionally involved in their work. We are the same, because we also are rescuers — of souls, and so we must remain detached at all times. I know it’s hard, but it must be done, particularly by ones such as you and Ashka who occupy Earth human containers as well.
“Remember, Alarca, as Guardians we are very sensitive to lower human emotion. It really affects us deeply, as we are not accustomed to it, so it is most important that we practice nonattachment at all times. Speaking of which, I believe it is time for you to return to your mortal container, and look, the rescue workers have broken through. This one is going to be all right, so you can go home feeling happy that a life has been saved. If you hadn’t helped her when you did she would not have made it. Now, before you go, how about that aura cleanse?”
top/bot
Chapter 45 A Walk-in
I was taking a few minutes’ break between shifts, talking to our two Pleiadian crew members, Asara and Solarno, when Maris suddenly appeared. “Alarca, please, I need your container.”
“Huh?”
“I said, I need your container, and quickly, but you have to give me permission — please — it’s an emergency!”
“Hang on a second, Maris,” Solarno intervened. “What’s going on? How come you’re in astral form? Are you okay? Where’s your own physical container? Why do you want Alarca’s?”
It was only then that the bizarreness of the situation seemed to dawn on Maris. Some of the insubstantial mistiness around his outer astral edges began to clear as he visibly pulled himself together. “Oh dear, I’m sorry,” he apologized. “The small disc I was travelling in just got shot down by the Controllers. All three of us on board were ejected quite forcibly from our physical containers, and mine was blown to pieces, so it’s of no use to me now anyway, but the problem is, I need one for the work I’m doing.”
Solarno put a comforting arm around my Teacher’s shoulders. “Come on Maris, you’d better sit down for a minute. You still look a bit shaken. There, that’s better. Now what do you mean about needing Alarca’s container? Aren’t there any spare ones on board? I thought you always kept some for such emergencies.”
“No, no, you don’t understand! Oh my goodness, I’m sorry! I’m really not explaining myself, am I? I’ll start over…” Then, turning to me — “Alarca, I’ve decided that I need to have an Earth human container for the physical aspect of my work. That way I can be right there, on the spot, during these last few years before the planetary shift, but the problem is, how? I can’t just take one over, because we are not into possession without permission — that’s a real no-no! And even if someone down there were on the way out anyway and willing to allow me to take over the body as a walk-in, it still wouldn’t work. As a gray Guardian, my energy signature is just too different. It would take me ages to adapt, and things could go wrong — so that’s where you come in, Alarca.”
“Huh? But what’s it got to do with me? I know I grumble sometimes about life on Planet Earth, but my human container is still healthy, and my work down there is going well. I’m not ready to exit just yet. Don’t ask me to do that, Maris — please!”
“No, no, Alarca — you don’t understand. I’m not asking you to exit the container. Even though it’s yours, it’s still an Earth-human one, which I don’t think I could manage on my own. No, all I’m asking is, can we share it? After all, as your elder and teacher, we already share a very similar energy signature, so it shouldn’t prove too difficult, but I still need your permission.”
Waves of intense amusement were radiating from behind me. “Oh dear, Alarca — that’s going to ‘clip your wings’ somewhat, isn’t it? Having your Teacher right in there with you, 24/7! You won’t get away with anything anymore!” Asara and Solarno were having a great chuckle at the prospect.
Seeing the expression on my face, Maris was
quick to reassure me. “Oh, don’t worry, Alarca. It’ll only be during the day. Once our container falls asleep at night and we both come up here onto the disc, we can go our separate ways, no problem. The only difference is that my presence will enhance your consciousness with information about energy that we can teach to many people on Earth.”
“But Maris, are you sure? If you come into my container with me, won’t it be obvious to others — Paco and my family for example? Won’t I seem very different to them?”
Again a ripple of laughter from the Pleiadians. “Alarca, you’ve always seemed a ‘little different’ to your human family. They’ll hardly notice a bit more!”
Then from Maris — “Please, Alarca. I really need your help here, but I also need your full and conscious permission to do a walk-in. You don’t have to give me an answer straight away. You can think it through, and if you really don’t want to, then so be it — there’s no pressure.”
“Oh no — no pressure at all!” I came back at him, maybe a little more forcefully than intended. “But no, it’s okay, Maris. I don’t need to think it through. Permission granted.”
As zero hour approached only one week later, I began feeling very strange indeed. I knew that it was all about preliminary energy shifts in my body, and now I sensed that it was time to prepare myself. I lay down on my bed and soon the familiar paralysis overtook me. I became aware of two figures standing beside me. “It’s all right, Alarca — it’s only Garnibis and me. We’ve come to assist with the process.” The sound of the Elder Serapis’s familiar and kindly voice telepathing inside my head calmed and reassured me.
