by Linda Hawley
“Yes.”
The breath left me. “Thirty years. They’ve been refining their skills for three decades. Oh my goodness,” I said out loud as my head began to spin with the implications.
“What else?” Chow asked Jean-Pierre.
He took a deep breath. “You were right when you suspected that the project name referred to the space-time continuum. Our operative tells us that their mission is to control world events to their own chronology—to their own agenda. The American government has decided in advance how they want world history to be written, and they’re manipulating the continuum to it, using remote viewing. The group consists of gifted paranormal viewers—like you, Ann—who’ve been doing this for a long time.”
“They’re probably better than I am,” I said, quietly humbled by the enormity of what we were learning.
“I suspect it may be even worse,” Chow said. Our heads snapped to him, and he continued. “It may be that our historical intervention of Talbot while at Harvard failed because the remote viewers are shifting events back to their chronology.”
“Every time we change something to make the world better, they change it back,” I said, completing Chow’s revelation.
“You both are correct. The courier today confirmed this.”
“If this group is manipulating the chronology, then we must eliminate them if we are to have any chance of achieving GOG’s mission,” Chow reasoned.
“You have a challenge before you,” Jean-Pierre said. “Our operative tells us that the remote viewers are kept in separate locations to keep them isolated and safe. If one is taken out, the rest can still complete the government’s objectives. We have learned that they do convene whenever they make a significant correction to the chronology.”
Edwin chimed in. “To force them to gather together, we must disrupt the timeline in such a way that they must correct it.”
“Very insightful,” Jean-Pierre said to Edwin.
“But something doesn’t feel right in my gut,” I said, scrunching up my face.
“What is it?” Chow asked me.
“How did they correct the Talbot thing so quickly? I mean…we made the historical change, came downstairs, and the chronology had already been corrected back to the government’s chosen history. How are they doing it so fast?” I asked.
“Time is fluid,” Edwin began. “Perhaps to our experience, it has just happened. But they may be correcting it a month into our future or a month ago. We cannot know when they are correcting our alterations, since there are so many possibilities. They might just see the event arise and fix it. However, it does seem possible that their remote viewers are somehow watching our historical alterations.”
“Do you think Project Continuum is remote viewing us?” I asked them.
“Perhaps,” Chow said.
“Oh my goodness…I just remembered something,” I exclaimed.
The men looked at me.
“Chow, do you remember when we were co-dreaming Shanghai, and I found this?” I asked, pulling out the phantom Herkimer that hung around my neck.
“Yes. In the garden, next to the four-hundred-year-old ginkgo tree.”
“A man…out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a man standing to the right of me, not far away. I turned to look at him, but when I looked up, he had vanished. It was the oddest feeling.”
“A remote viewer,” Chow proclaimed.
“I think so.”
“How would they know to remote view you while you were co-dreaming?” Jean-Pierre asked.
A few seconds passed before I knew the answer. “The coordinates—”
“From your last remote view for the CIA,” Chow remembered.
“I was remote viewing a location that I later learned was actually the Shanghai hotel from my dream,” I said, remembering out loud. “Wait a minute…” I said, realizing the pieces were finally coming together. “It was the Pentagon who wanted me to confirm the death of those soldiers,” I said, astonished at the significance of these revelations.
My old adversary.
“We need to find out if they are monitoring our co-dreaming or remote viewing,” Chow said abruptly.
“How?” Jean-Pierre asked.
“We can set a trap,” he answered. “We make a significant change to their chronology and then track them back.”
“How can you track them?” Jean-Pierre asked, perplexed.
I thought up an option. “We make a significant change to those same coordinates in the basement of the Bund Hotel in Shanghai. Bob told me that the CIA had been remote viewing that location because lots of subversive activity always seemed to go on there. So…we remote view the coordinates until we observe someone from Project Continuum. Once we locate one of their viewers, the three of us can co-dream in at that exact time and then follow the viewer back to their location.”
“How can we follow a remote viewer back to their viewing location?” Edwin asked, having never heard of this before now.
“We reverse engineer the view,” I quickly replied.
“How?” he asked.
“I have no idea,” I said with a smile, raising my eyebrows. “I’m just now thinking it up.”
“This is the part where she tells us that we should ‘fly by the seat of our pants’ or something like that,” Chow joked.
I laughed out loud. He was right. I had to believe it to see it.
* * *
Another runner had arrived to meet with Jean-Pierre, interrupting our discussion. While Jean-Pierre met with him privately, Chow, Edwin, and I went upstairs to continue to discuss Project Continuum.
Crossing the threshold into my bedroom, I blurted out, “I wanna see three separate places, five years into the future.”
Chow and Edwin stopped moving and turned to me, looking a little shocked and a bit doubtful.
“How about we sit down, and you can tell us where and why,” Chow directed.
“We know Project Continuum’s mission is to change history to their timeline, right?” I said.
“Yes,” Chow agreed.
“Well, it seems right to check to make sure the changes they’re making stick through time.”
“That seems reasonable,” Edwin replied.
“What are the locations you want to see?” Chow asked.
I answered quickly. “First…India, where they’re tracking the rations. Second…Canada, where they’re keeping their RFID tracking data. Lastly…” I swallowed. “The Pentagon, where Project Continuum is run from.” Clearly, Chow and Edwin were assimilating what I’d said, so I continued. “In India, I want to know how our hack into the food rationing system turns out in five years. In Canada, I want to find out if RFID returns in driver’s licenses. At Project Continuum, I want to observe how the project is run five years from now.”
“Are you prepared to learn the outcome, even if it is disappointing?” Chow asked me candidly.
“Well…I don’t know if I’m prepared or not. But all this ambiguousness is frustrating. Let’s just find out what impact we’re having,” I pleaded.
* * *
“That’s just not possible!” I shouted.
“Ann, calm down, so we can discuss it,” Chow said, his hand on my arm as we rose from the floor.
“It’s genocide—just like I feared when we were leaving Mount Abu, remember?” I said vehemently, as a chill coursed through me.
“I remember,” Chow said flatly.
“Can we talk it through, determining the facts?” Edwin asked, trying to extinguish my blatant emotion.
“There’s only one fact that matters,” I began immediately. “India has successfully used food control to create genocide against their own people.” I steadied myself, trying to breathe through the images that were inundating my mind from the co-dream.
“She is right, Edwin. You observed it. Our efforts will fail, or Project Continuum reversed what we had achieved.”
Edwin was quiet for a few seconds. “Perhaps now that we know the outco
me, we can change our approach…still make a difference,” he reasoned.
“Hey…I can’t intellectualize this right now. The images we just saw—emaciation of half a billion children, women, and men—is something that’ll never leave my mind. I swear I could taste the dust and the lack of life.” I took a deep breath. “It’s the Holocaust, Tibet, Rwanda, and let’s not forget Darfur, the genocide that the world denied for years,” I spat. My mind was reeling in mankind’s horrendous mistakes.
“I think we need to take a break. We can continue the other co-dreams tomorrow,” Chow offered.
“Yeah…tomorrow,” I agreed. Sometimes all I could handle was one day at a time.
Chapter 14
Hearing myself moan, I awoke with my face wet with tears.
“No, no…no…” I cried.
Hearing my door open abruptly, I looked up to find Chow rushing toward me. I leaned into him as he scooped me up, pulling me to him.
“I know…I know,” he said, quietly empathetic as he held me in his sturdy arms as I convulsively sobbed.
Holding on to him, I tried to right myself from the images that flooded my mind.
“We can figure it out,” he said, stroking my hair as I expended my tears.
As I began to calm, the enormous blow of what had occurred took over. “You saw?” I asked him.
“Yes.”
I pulled away from him a bit so that I could see his face to talk about what we’d seen. Clearly he was also shaken.
“It wasn’t a dream,” I said emphatically.
“I agree…it was too connected.”
“It was the future.”
“Yes.”
“Our future.”
He nodded, sadness visible in his eyes.
“How far into the future, do you think?” I asked him.
“About five years. Remember what you asked for last night?”
“I wanted to see India, Canada, and the U.S. five years into the future.”
“Yes. We only co-dreamed India, and then we put off the others, which seem to have taken place anyway. I think we were meant to see this, so that we would do something about it.”
I nodded. It seeming right. “Was Edwin co-dreaming with us too?”
“Yes. I rushed in here as soon as the dream ended. We can figure this out, Ann…and do something about it.”
“Do you really think so?” I asked, the trauma of witnessing it still fresh.
“Yes, I do,” he said, sure.
“Can we talk it through, so I can get some emotional distance?” I asked.
He nodded his head.
“So…five years into the future…” I began and then breathed deep. “FEMA camps are filled with Americans who the government declares are a threat—”
“And are never charged,” Chow said, finishing my sentence. He continued with disgust. “Americans are simply grabbed from their homes using Obama’s NDAA, which declared the entire United States a battlefield. The clause Obama said he would never use.”
“Guarded by American Army personnel, whose salaries are paid by taxpayer money from the very Americans they snatched. Now that’s ironic,” I said, indignation rising in me.
Chow frowned his agreement. “Did you see how they were using RFID?”
“Yes. RFID implants injected into everyone as they were processed into the camps. I didn’t see it in the dream, but I bet the U.S. has already begun implanting RFID into anyone who’s arrested for anything—processed just like when they take their fingerprints.”
“Using it to soften the public to implanting RFID. The same method they used to prepare the public for its use in driver’s licenses,” Chow logically surmised. “It makes sense.”
“RFID detention—a full loss of freedom,” I realized. “And don’t forget what we saw in the dream about Canada.”
“Using satellite technology to find humans in remote areas.”
“And in India, RFID was being implanted at birth. Add that to the genocide there—it’s horrifying.”
“Monitoring…detention…then elimination,” Chow said grimly.
“Globally,” I added.
He nodded.
“It looks like nothing we’ve done has made any difference. What does that mean, Chow?”
“Perhaps Project Continuum is more powerful…more advanced, than we realize. We make a change for the good of history, and they alter it back to their own timeline.”
“Or is the alternate timeline too far changed now that we can’t fix it? It seems to me—it’s a feeling in my gut—that it’s an irreversible path now. I think that’s why we received this message within this dream. So what now?”
“I think we need to invite Edwin into this discussion.”
“Yes, absolutely.”
Chow left the room to get Edwin while I dressed.
When they returned ten minutes later, I realized that Edwin appeared wide awake, even though it was the middle of the night.
“I briefed Edwin,” Chow said as he entered my room.
Edwin hadn’t even sat down before he interjected into our discussion. “It seems that we need to reset the world’s timeline.”
“Reset…How do you reset history?” I asked, incredulous.
“The Wisdom Keepers will bring a message to humanity, creating a celestial event,” Chow said, reciting the prophecy.
“The third prophecy,” I said.
Chow quickly replied. “Yes. The purpose of the celestial event is to change the future of mankind.”
“My goodness,” I reacted, chills running through me. “The three Wisdom Keepers will know the time that the prophecy will be fulfilled by seeing signs in the sky. Then we will amplify our collective spiritual energy, and the celestial event will occur,” I said, reciting the prophecy from memory.
“Do you believe that you’re the third Wisdom Keeper yet?” I asked Edwin directly.
He didn’t reply, only returning my intense gaze. I’m sure he could feel the energy in the room between the three of us.
“It makes sense, The Prophecies beginning when they did. What we learned tonight is that if we wait too long to act, we know how history will be written. Monitoring…detention…then elimination,” Chow said for the second time—this time his voice was stony and angry. “I am certain that if we do not act soon, our cause will fail.”
“GOG’s cause will fail,” Edwin added.
“We need to start with Project Continuum’s group of remote viewers,” Chow said.
Chapter 15
“It’s just as we practiced. We’ve got two objectives. The first is to be aware of one another. I don’t know if it’s possible, but the three of us should somehow try to stay grouped together within the view. Let’s stay within an arm’s length of each other and see how that works. I think that would make it easier to meet our second objective, which is, of course, to make ourselves aware of a possible fourth viewer…from Project Continuum,” I said. “Remember to focus your view into the basement of the coordinates.”
“I’ll be watching the clock so that each of you leaves the meditation at the same time, and then I’ll signal for everyone to return at the same time,” Françoise said, affirming her role.
“Remember Françoise, just tap each viewer lightly on the hand for each transition,” I said, and she nodded her confirmation.
“If you’re ready, let’s get into position,” I said to Edwin and Chow.
The three of us took our seats in the living room. The chairs were arranged facing away from one another, as we’d practiced, so that each viewer could focus only on their own viewing without distraction. We each had our clipboard and pencil in our laps. Written on the page in front of each of us was our navigation point:
Latitude: N 31° 14' 10.7712
Longitude: E 121° 29' 9.9126
Date: January 11, 1995
Time: 0600 hours
“Study the coordinates,” I instructed once we were all seated.
We’d chosen six o�
�clock in the morning to practice viewing the location, which was the morning of the day that the soldiers were shot. This was our practice remote view of those coordinates. I silently read through the navigation point slowly, ensuring that I would have it settled in my mind.
“Let’s start the meditation,” I said, and I saw Françoise click her stopwatch just before I closed my eyes.
It didn’t seem long before she tapped my hand, signaling that the twenty minutes of TM had ended and that it was time to begin the remote view. I had trained the brothers to go right into viewing the location without being prompted by a trainer.
I opened my eyes to the clipboard in front of me.
* * *
I was viewing the basement as though I were standing there. In front of me, in the middle of the room, was a large table that seated more than a dozen people. On the far side of the room, opposite me, was a smaller table against the wall, about four feet long. On it sat at least six rifles; there may have been more, but I could only see six for now. Ammunition lay beside it. I sensed that some kind of operation was being planned, but no one was in the room yet.
I tried to see if I could sense Chow and Edwin in the view. As I concentrated, I perceived energy to the left of me. Just as I became aware of it, a green monochromatic flash of light pulsed out beside me. It seemed to throb, as if it were a beating heart. Concentrating further on the abstract visual, I sensed the green pulse crossing with a blue monochromatic burst of light, which appeared to be emanating from me. I centered my energy, throwing my whole being into passively observing the phenomenon. As I did so, an elusive red monochromatic flicker of light emerged to the right of me. It was weaker than the other two, and it mixed with my blue burst of light. The brightest and most consistent light was blue; its pulse was barely distinguishable. My light remained permanently solid. I sensed no other energy or presence in the room.
* * *
I was capturing the images on my clipboard before it fled too far from my subconscious mind.
