by Linda Hawley
I smirked at him. “I think it’s time to visit my colleagues. Excuse me,” I said curtly, then turned away to find Chow and Edwin.
Talbot nodded my way, chuckling as he did so.
* * *
“It looked like an intense conversation,” Chow said to me as he sat up from the floor in my bedroom after we co-dreamed.
“I wanted Talbot to remember a conversation about the Fourth Amendment that he once had with a girl named Ann,” I replied.
Both Chow and Edwin nodded with a knowing smile.
“Well Edwin, did you have success?” I asked him, as all three of us rose from the floor.
“I believe so. I dreamed right into his professor’s locked office. It took me a few minutes to find the final tests. It took another ten minutes to find a blank test to forge Talbot’s name on. I certainly am grateful that it was 1983, instead of the digital age. It was very useful that you remote viewed the actual exam in progress to identify who was sitting next to Talbot. Copying his exam from his seat-mate will be very difficult to refute when he is confronted by his professor,” Edwin explained.
“How did your mission go?” Chow asked me.
“You know, I’ve been resourceful while co-dreaming and have proven that I can bring small items from this time into the dream, but I can’t hide that I’m astonished every time I’m successful. When I landed in his other professor’s office, I looked down at my hand to see if the paper we plagiarized from historical documents was still there. When I saw that it was, I was positively gleeful. It took me about ten minutes to find the final essays. Once I did, I removed Talbot’s original and replaced it with the one we wrote for him. It was a piece of cake,” I exclaimed.
“How did yours go?” Edwin asked Chow.
“I planted the new test easily. When I was finished, I exited that professor’s office. Then I ran into a little problem. As we learned from the remote view, his office was located behind the room he lectured in. What we did not learn from the remote view, however, was that the outer room was locked in the evening…from the outside.”
Edwin and I looked at one another.
“Oh my goodness. How did you get out?” I asked Chow.
“Through the ceiling. It was tricky, because I had to figure out how to get high enough to push the ceiling tile aside to insert myself, without leaving a conspicuous chair or table behind. I climbed up the professor’s podium, because it was just the right height. I managed to climb up without knocking over the stand, but I cannot promise that my footprints were not left behind,” Chow said with a smile.
Edwin and I chuckled.
“I wonder what the professor will think when he sees shoe prints?” Edwin remarked.
“I do not know. It was a bit difficult to climb across part of the room without falling through, but I was able to do it. Once I dropped down into the hall, I located a chair to stand on, in order to replace the ceiling tile I had come through.”
“When we all met at the cocktail party, I was so relieved to see you both. To find Talbot, the two future Supreme Court Justices, and the future members of President Obama’s cabinet all in one place was eerie. It felt like a sinister plot to kill civil rights was being brewed right there, amongst all those men,” I said with a shiver.
“What do you each remember about history?” Edwin pressed.
“I remember the original history, as always,” I replied.
“So do I,” Chow followed up.
“As do I,” Edwin confirmed.
“All three of us remember Talbot’s original history?” I questioned as I faced the two brothers. As I looked at Chow, an understanding passed between us. “I knew it. I knew it ever since I arrived here in Brest.”
“Knew what?” Edwin asked, unaware.
“You,” I said, looking into Edwin’s eyes.
“What about me?”
Chow answered. “My brother…we believe you are the third Wisdom Keeper.”
Chapter 11
He looked at us in startled silence. Clearly, Edwin was considering it.
“Both Chow and I can feel it. Can’t you?” I asked him.
He was silent for nearly a minute. “When history has been changed, usually others only remember the new, alternate history. Is this correct?”
“Exactly. But you remember the original history, just as Chow and I do. This can only mean that you are the third who was revealed in The Prophecies,” I said.
“I do not know, Ann,” Edwin said reluctantly.
“Consider this,” I began. “It makes sense that it’s you. You and Chow are twin brothers. You have both worked to protect me in North America and now here. You’re just as capable in co-dreaming as Chow and I are. Edwin, you are the third Wisdom Keeper…I know it.”
“I need some time to consider it,” Edwin said.
I smiled at his seriousness.
“Well, let’s go find out what history we’ve created,” I said excitedly.
The three of us descended the stairs to find Philippe and Françoise.
* * *
“Johnathan Talbot was never a senator,” Philippe said calmly, in response to my question.
“Woohoo! Tell us…tell us how history played out,” I exclaimed with satisfaction as I tapped on the kitchen counter impatiently.
Silent communication passed between Philippe and Françoise.
Edwin looked at me uncertainly, asking our hosts, “Does the Patriot Act exist?”
“Yes,” Philippe replied.
“What?” I blurted out as I stared at Philippe in shock.
Chow then asked them, “Does the NDAA exist?”
“Yes,” Philippe replied in the affirmative again.
My elation was falling like a stone through gravity. “Is RFID used to track humans?” I reluctantly asked.
“Yes,” Françoise confirmed.
Edwin looked at me. “No wonder the three of us remember the first history. We did not change anything.”
“How can that be?” I asked, perplexed and deflated. I turned to our hosts. “Did Talbot become a lawyer?”
“Johnathan Talbot is a lawyer in Washington, D.C. He is the father of RFID tracking and the author of legislation that opposes the Fourth Amendment,” Philippe said.
I turned to Chow and Edwin, trying to make sense of the outcome. “Were his relationships with those Harvard men so strong that they covered up Talbot’s cheating and plagiarism?”
“Perhaps,” Chow said, his face serious. “We need to revisit the facts,” he said pensively. “We need to study what was successful in past interventions and compare it to what we just tried to do. We know it is possible to change history. We just need to determine how to construct it.”
“That’s very logical, Chow,” I said, still shaken. “How about we meet after Amrit Vela tomorrow? That will give us time to ponder,” I offered. Since we’d arrived at Brest, Chow, Edwin, and I had been practicing meditation two and a half hours a day, before dawn. Amrit Vela literally meant the ambrosial period, the nectar time, or the time before the sun rose, an especially peaceful or insightful time for meditation.
They nodded in silent agreement.
Françoise, intently watching our reactions, said, “I intellectually understand from our earlier meeting—before the three of you co-dreamed—that it would be possible that Philippe and I would only remember a new alternate history. But the three of you remembering one history, and us knowing another is one of the most bizarre disparities I’ve ever experienced,” she said, clearly shaken.
“Wait until our co-dream actually works,” I replied. “That was just our warm-up,” I said, rallying my optimism.
* * *
The next morning, a GOG runner arrived and was meeting privately with Jean-Pierre, so the five of us had breakfast without him. We were all nearly finished eating when we began to discuss the co-dream with Talbot.
“The facts are that we prevented Talbot from becoming a senator. We did not, however, impact his becoming a
lawyer or the legislation that he would affect,” Chow said.
“I wonder if we can be more effective in changing history by remote viewing,” I said. “My Canadian hack was through remote viewing, not co-dreaming.”
Chow countered, “But we did co-dream both of the Indian hacks, and those changed history.”
“You’re right,” I agreed.
Philippe chimed in. “It’s as if time itself forbids us from making significant historical changes.”
This sounded like a very odd thing for Philippe to say, considering he was such a fact-based man. I looked over at Chow. He was intently observing Philippe.
“Why do you say that?” I asked, deciding to press Philippe a bit.
He was thoughtful for several seconds before answering me. “Consider the Rhône. The river originates in Switzerland and continues through southeastern France. It’s fed by many sources and in some places is a torrent of unstoppable water. There are fierce currents, then extreme shallows, and dangerous floods in spring, when the ice melts. This river was an important highway for the Romans and has transported people and goods since then,” he said, then looked at us each individually for a second. He continued. “If man tried to alter or disrupt this river, nature simply would not allow it.”
“So you’re saying that we didn’t succeed in our mission because it was too big…too monumental for history?” I asked, sincerely desiring to understand him.
Philippe was quick to respond. “Perhaps the change was too big for nature to absorb. If the Rhône river’s current were removed, what would propel the water forward?” he said, using the metaphor to explain his reasoning.
Maybe he is fact based after all, I thought.
Edwin stepped into the discussion. “The current direction of governments—to use technology to track human actions and intent—is a significant current within the river of time. To remove it might cause some catastrophic event in the space-time continuum.”
“I always considered myself an intelligent woman,” Françoise began, drawing attention from all the men. “Until all of you came to stay with us. Now I feel like the dumbest person in the room,” she said abruptly, then stood up and left the dining room.
I laughed out loud at Françoise’s deadpan statement while the men looked at one another, dumfounded. I got up and joined my feisty new friend in the kitchen.
“Let us meet again tomorrow morning to discuss it further, after the Nectar Time,” I heard Chow suggest.
I was already pulled into my thoughts and was soon introspective and quiet.
* * *
After breakfast, Chow and I began to work on the India issue. He seemed particularly upbeat, considering our defeat in the co-dream last night. Then the reason occurred to me.
“You have a solution, don’t you?” I asked, as we stood face to face.
He smiled wide. “Yes. As I meditated upon it, I think I found an easy solution. I think we can make some progress on the problem. I know the RFID issues are still lurking, but we have people to help in India who are going hungry and a government that is oppressing them. I think we can make a change that will solve the food rationing problem and confuse the food-auditors.”
“Okay. Fire away,” I said enthusiastically.
“The Indian government has written a program that is randomly selecting ration locations to audit. I have discovered this by monitoring our back door into their system. When a location is chosen, enforcers show up there and check the receiver’s rations.”
“Yeah…”
“All we have to do is simply change their program from randomly selecting locations to predicting the locations that are chosen. We can ensure that spot checks never occur in locations where increased rations are being distributed.”
“How?”
“I can upload a program ensuring that spot checks occur at predicted locations. The Indian government will believe the random generator in their program is still working. I think it is the best way to solve the problem.”
“Do you think the spot-checkers will be suspicious that all of a sudden there are no excess rations?”
“I wrote the program so that the locations will be predicted over a three-week period of time. On their end, the change will be seen slowly. Doing it this way, they should not suspect that anything is amiss.”
“It sounds good to me. We don’t even need to co-dream or remote view in, either, because you’ll just hack into the back door of the system, right?”
“Yes.”
“Brilliant,” I said, recognizing him. “Let’s go give Jean-Pierre some good news.”
Chapter 12
“It seems like a sound plan,” Jean-Pierre said flatly.
The three of us were standing in the foyer, facing one another.
“What? You don’t think it’ll work?” I asked him.
“On the contrary. I like it,” he responded.
“What is it, Jean-Pierre?” I asked. “You don’t seem enthusiastic.”
“Forgive me, ma chère. I’m distracted by the information I just received from the runner. Let us sit together in the salon,” he said, gesturing to the living room. “And please have Edwin join us,” he said to Chow.
Chow slipped away to find Edwin.
As we sat on the sofa to wait for the brothers to join us, I asked him, “Is everything okay with Aimée?”
“Yes, yes, ma chère,” he said, patting my knee. “The message is from GOG, not my family,” he said, just as Chow and Edwin entered the room. “Aha, good. We’re all here then.”
Chow and Edwin sat in the chairs facing us, leaning forward and looking serious.
“First, the plan for India sounds very good. I want you to proceed as soon as we finish this meeting,” Jean-Pierre said to Chow, who nodded in agreement.
Jean-Pierre was making an effort to be upbeat. He turned to me.
“Second, I’d like to know how it’s going with the remote-viewing training.”
“We've completed three sessions together since you told me to start. I expected that Chow would be very good because he’s been co-dreaming for so long,” I said, looking at Chow. “Chow is as good as we thought he’d be.”
“How’s Edwin doing?” Jean-Pierre asked with concern.
“Well…I expected that Edwin’s training would go a little slower,” I said, looking over at Edwin. “But I was dead wrong. Edwin is the most gifted remote viewer I’ve seen since I was with the CIA.” I paused, thinking back to my days with the agency. “There was a woman there—named Grace—who was very good, and I think Edwin’s ability will surpass hers—”
“C'est excellent!” Jean-Pierre exclaimed, interrupting me.
Edwin smiled, clearly pleased with my compliment.
“Yes, it is excellent. We may be as you said…the Three Musketeers,” I said playfully to Jean-Pierre.
“With weapons that are a bit different,” he added with a wink.
I smiled at him. “At the CIA, some agents trained for years before ever going live as remote viewers. Even then, they still only achieved a tiny success ratio. I wonder if the length of training time is really tied to the success ratios. In the CIA, Bob and I often theorized that natural paranormal abilities had more to do with the level of success than the length of time in training. The first thing Edwin said to me when I started training him was that remote viewing ‘feels natural.’ That was exactly what I told Bob about my own training. This is yet another reason why I believe that Edwin is the third Wisdom Keeper,” I said to Jean-Pierre.
“Are you?” Jean-Pierre asked Edwin quizzically.
“I do not know,” he said honestly.
“Chow,” Jean-Pierre said, “what do you believe?”
“I believe him to be the third,” Chow said definitely.
Edwin looked at his brother in bewilderment.
Jean-Pierre wisely said to Edwin, “No doubt it’s a difficult thing to face. But I believe you will know if you are the third when it’s the right time. One thing I�
�m certain of—the three of you remote viewing is better than one.”
We all nodded our heads in agreement.
“Now, let’s proceed to the message I just received by GOG courier,” he said, his dark blue eyes taking on an intensity. He looked directly at me. “It seems you’re not alone in your remote viewing.”
“What?” I asked, confused.
“We have a GOG operative inside the Pentagon, and he’s identified a remote-viewing group there.”
“I knew it!” I exclaimed.
“You did?” Jean-Pierre questioned.
I explained. “Not long before Bob was killed, he told me that Project Stargate was still an active project but that it was no longer at the CIA. I assumed it had moved to another agency. Never had I considered that the Pentagon had it. But it fits…oh my goodness it fits…”
“There’s more, Ann. The new project—which they call Project Continuum…”
The electricity in the room jumped up a notch as the three of us perked up at the name.
“Wait a second,” I said, interrupting him. “Project Continuum…as in the space-time continuum?”
“The four-dimensional coordinate system to locate physical events—experiences that pass from the future, through the present, and then to the past,” Edwin said, defining it out loud.
“Holy cow,” I exclaimed. “This is very bad.”
Chow grimly stated the obvious. “The U.S. government is manipulating time…using remote viewing.”
Chapter 13
“That’s why I gathered the three of you together. But then you Einsteins got at it before I had a chance to tell you,” Jean-Pierre said in mock disgust.
“I’m sorry, Jean-Pierre. What else do you know?” I said, controlling my speech.
Thankfully, he got right to it. “Our operative learned that Project Continuum was created in the 1980s, running parallel to the CIA’s Project Stargate.”
“They’ve been practicing remote viewing all this time?” I asked with dread.
