by Shea Meadows
George’s car was parked in front of the house, along with the car belonging to their friends Jessica and Dylan. When Ricky came in she could hear rummaging around that might be coming from the third-floor office. She bedded Nory’s sleeping body in her crib, and she and Bonta joined the others.
They were moving furniture into a circle for about six people. Jessica had brought up a pitcher of fruit juice to drink after those invited did their out-of-body trip and stored it in the small refrigerator in the office area. Dylan had contacted Katera, Gimma, Christina, George, Mel Shank and Shri Kria Baba.
The real location of the gathering would be spirit world, so Moon, the guides and a few others with special knowledge of China would be there.
“Moon already told you, didn’t she?” Ricky asked David.
“Yes, Dr. Susan Fry is coming as well as Milton Running Deer. I’m a little concerned about Dr. Fry. We’re not sure of her ability to journey, but it was Moon’s idea, so we have to trust,” David replied.
“No one is arriving until seven, and its five now. Bonta, maybe you and I can make dinner together. Rita is running errands for the house. Anyone but me hungry?” Ricky asked.
“Something light, sweetheart; don’t want to sleep when I should be going out of body,” George answered.
This was the first time Ricky had experienced the wonders of the kitchen in their new rental house. It was three times as big as the kitchen on York Street, even if one considered how big the pantry was at Moon’s house. The refrigerator had enough room for someone to hide in.
“Have to put a lock on the fridge when Nory is big enough to toddle or she’ll climb in,” Ricky observed.
“You have to come to New Orleans and stay in our house in the French Quarter. The kitchen is so small two people can’t work in it at the same time,” Bonta said.
“What year was it built?
“Eighteen ninety-eight; it is said to be the home of a seafaring man who traveled across the Atlantic. Rumor has it he was a pirate, and rumor was correct. Mother had a long talk with his ghost before she convinced him to cross over.”
They talked on as Ricky and Bonta sliced a turkey breast, warmed some rolls and made a salad. Two cans of vegetable soup completed the menu. Everyone joined them in the dining area, and half-way through the meal the doorbell rang and Christina arrived.
“Sit down and join us. Nothing fancy,” Ricky said as she led Christina into the dining room.
“The food might not be fancy, but the house sure is. And where did you get the dog?” Christina said, patting Ralph who had stationed himself under the table on a quest for crumbs.
“He’s part of the rental deal. Got a great leasing fee as long as we loved him up. He’s a lamb, and Pigeon and he are getting along like gangbusters,” David informed her.
“Can’t wait to hear the story about why you moved out of York Street. Minneapolis police have kept me busy this week with all the cases with paranormal aspects. I’m glad you gave me the job of helping law enforcement with their spooky occurrences, but I feel left out at times. I haven’t had time to talk with anyone in the group,” Christina said.
“A couple more people are arriving at seven. Then we’ll do a group visit to the cove, and you’ll hear it all,” George said.
They chatted and ate until Nory informed Ricky it was time for another nursing session, and Christina came up with her to admire the baby. Before long the doorbell rang again. Dr. Fry and Milton Running Deer arrived at the same time.
All of them gathered in the third-floor room, after Rita, newly returned from shopping, volunteered to baby-sit while Nory slept soundly in her crib.
Susan Fry looked uncomfortable. “I hope you don’t mind my barging in. When you told me about the problem, Ricky, it seemed to make sense to come, considering China is familiar. Who knows if I’m going to have anything to contribute? How long will the meeting last? I’m scheduled to do early surgery in the morning, so I can’t stay much more than an hour.”
“Actually, no time at all,” David said. “We will be doing a group out-of-body shift to spirit world were Moon and some of the guides will be waiting. We can arrange to come back before the time we left if we want.”
Susan Fry’s eyes were wide as saucers. “I’ve never gone out-of-body successfully. I’ve been to trainings and attempted it and know others that do it easily. Maybe I should leave right now.”
“Moon cleared you for being here. She’s evaluated your strengths and feels that all you need is a strong morphic field of experienced companions. We would never force you but are willing to give you the boost that makes it possible,” Ricky said.
“You couldn’t do it at all before Moon died; that’s what it said in the book. Is that true?” Susan said, wringing her hands and trembling.
“That was true. Moon positioned what she calls traveling stones on my body. I have them here tonight. The first few times I journeyed with Moon, I either used the stones or the extra boost I got from the energy in the York Street house. My friend Beth Ann hadn’t attempted out-of-body at all but was able to do it after Moon trained me and we did it together. There are enough of us here to help with your first flight. Moon will help from the other side.”
“Didn’t Beth Ann live with Moon for several years before you took over? Why wasn’t she trained before then?” Susan Fry asked.
“Moon learned from Shri Kria Baba when she visited him in India. Before that time, all her work was done in-person. Moon saw that Beth Ann was too anxious to try, but she is confident you are ready,” Ricky replied.
Susan turned to Milton Running Deer. “Is this the first time for you?”
“It will be my first journey with these talented people, but I have trained as a shaman since I was ten. I have enjoyed Moon’s books for years. Her work blends nicely into my traditions. I am behind in reading the information added by Ricky Clark, something I will remedy soon. Anyhow, my guides say I’m supposed to be here. If Moon says you’ll do fine, trust that,” Milton answered.
Susan took a deep breath. “I’m in. Tell me what to do.”
Jessica put some large pillows on the floor in the middle of the circle of chairs, while Dylan dimmed the lights and lit some candles. Christina used Reiki to balance Susan’s energy field and they put a drumming tape on in the background.
Ricky placed the stones in the proper order on Susan’s body and lay down beside her on the pillows. “All of us, including Nory, wish now to travel to the cove in spirit world.” A loud snap was heard in the air, and a blaze of light appeared above the group, and they were instantly in the cove.
The location Moon had chosen for the meeting was a room with jade statuary and decorations in the style of the Han dynasty. There were several couches in the style of that period, some already filled by others from their group. Ricky walked over to hug Moon, and then Shri and Mel. A distinguished gentleman with a silk robe, hair pulled back in a knot behind his head, and very kind eyes stood and watched patiently.
Moon had gone to Susan Fry and was helping her acclimate to the new surroundings. “I’m happy you were brave enough to come,” Moon said as she hugged Susan.
“It was touch and go. At first, I wanted to run for the door. But knowing you wanted me here gave me courage,” Susan answered.
Moon nodded. “I remember when Shri Kria Baba first took me out-of-body. I was in India which was very different to start with. Then to hop out and visit with Swamis in different dimensions… I was shaking when I returned at the bravado of the whole thing.”
She turned to the group. “Could everyone find a couch so we can make introductions? There are new travelers here who need to know who they’re working with.”
There were not enough couches for everyone so Moon manifested two more and each person told the group who they were.
Bonta snuggled in with her sister Gemma and her mom Katera and introduced them to the newest members.
Then Moon introduced Mel Shank who was a metaphysical teache
r in Chicago who had helped remove the threat of the Soul Stealer. He was an expert in gemstone configurations.
Christina, who had held down the fort on York Street when all the rest were in Georgia, introduced herself. George introduced himself as Moon and Ricky’s father.
A black-haired beauty wearing an ornate oriental robe smiled at Susan Fry and surprised her by revealing her identity as Eleanor Marie Clark, better known as Nory.
Susan looked stunned. “But you’re a baby. How does this work?”
Nory laughed. “Here I’m any age I want to be, and I can’t wait to be a teenager. I’m only a baby in the reality we usually share. Don’t worry. You’ll get used to it.”
Lastly, Shri Kria Baba introduced himself to Susan and Milton and presented the other new being, identified as Sima Qian, the author of an ancient text which contained the history of many of the old dynasties of China.
“So, please, Ricky, tell everyone why the house on York Street was unsafe for habitation,” Moon said.
Ricky went over all that they had discovered about the Bi Mo Chu in the last several days. She answered any questions that came up from those who had not been actively involved in the action. She emphasized the danger that the object represented. Then she went into the things that they had yet to clarify.
“There is a scroll somewhere with the story of the device, and a specific number is mentioned. Norton thought it was a thousand, but the number on the scroll was difficult to read. He felt that when the optimum number was reached, the stored ghosts would be released. He did not mention what he hoped or thought would occur at that magic number,” Ricky told them.
“Any ideas will be appreciated. We can’t move back home until we figure out what the Bi Mo Chu is and disarm it,” David added.
“This would be a good time to hear from Sima Qian,” Shri Kria Baba responded. “His history of the ancient dynasties is studied throughout the world, long after that incarnation. Could you give us some insight, honored scholar?”
Sima Qian stood and bowed to the assembled group. “My life as an historian and astrologer for the court of Emperor Jingdi during the time of the Han Dynasty was a life of both joy and sorrow. I continued the work of my honored father, Sima Tan. He was the original author of the history, and I took over at his death. I wrote of the dynasties before the Han, and the information recorded is used to this day.
“I know of things that are now touching your lives. In the energy of this place of spirit, I have conferred with the keepers of the record. They provided images of the Emperor Jingdi and his spiritual advisors which will explain the creation of the Bi Mo Chu. Would this be helpful?”
“We would be most appreciative, honored scholar,” Ricky said with a bow.
The historian waved his hand, and all assembled were able to see what occurred the day the Bi Mo Chu was created.
Deep within the inner chambers of the Han palace is a room with exquisitely crafted tile on the floor and walls. Whereas the public places are ornate and gilded in gold and resplendent in gemstones, this room is plain in comparison. Sima Tan, the official court astrologer and historian, does his reckonings here. There is a shiny ebony table, covered with scrolls and various types of measuring devices, and Sima Tan works with his abacus in deep concentration.
Sima Qian, his son of twenty years, stands silently beside his father, watching the process of divination. He is learning by observation, no need to question, only to inhale the wisdom his father exudes. The Emperor Jingdi has asked for the newest forecasts as to the method of warfare most effective in the coming battles planned by the generals.
Sima Qian knows his father is anxious. Just recently, the charts drawn for the battle against the northern barbarians have been proven inaccurate; the Emperor’s rage had thundered down on the head of his astrologer. These charts must be perfect in every way, so Sima Qian must quietly watch. If he sees something he questions, he must not say a word, lest he cause an error which would bring death upon his father.
Amid this scrutiny of star signs, positions of planets and the personal charts of the generals, the sacred quiet of the chamber is breeched. A young woman with long, twisted claws of fingernails shuffles into the room carrying a two-tiered basket and is followed by an older woman and an older man. Sima Qian has seen these three before. Even though Emperor Jingdi, may-he-live-for-eternity, speaks of the glory of the path of the philosopher Confucius, in secret, he is a student of the shamanic.
Ta Yi and his acolytes, the witches Lee Gee and Ging Dee have his ear. Jingdi has gone so far as to incorporate the women into his harem, and Lee Gee has become his favorite concubine. Not far behind these three, the Vice Chancellor of the court arrives, clearing the way for the Emperor.
They stand for a full minute beside the ebony table, unnoticed by Sima Tan, who is deep in his calculation. Sima Qian pulls on his father’s sleeve and mutters, “Father, the Master is here now.” Sima Tan looks up in embarrassment, and drops to the floor, knowing better than to try to make excuses.
Emperor Jingdi gestures at his astrologer to look up and speak of what he has discerned in his calculations. Is the timing auspicious? Have the right generals been chosen?
The usually articulate Sima Tan fumbles for words. “I am still working on making the correlations, Radiant One Who Shines Brighter Than the Sun. The charts will be done this very night.”
“Not soon enough,” the Emperor insists. “Move this from the table and finish the work in your quarters. My shaman and his assistants have assured me they can do a great working that will change the course of the wars. Go now. Let us see if your work agrees with theirs.”
Sima Tan and Sima Qian quickly gather the scrolls and equipment, taking care not to smudge the still damp characters. They go to their quarters; then Sima Tan evicts his son from his workroom. “You make me anxious, hanging over my shoulder. Go back to the conjuring room and hide behind the pillar in the doorway. Be my eyes and ears; remember all you see and report back when they are done with their rituals.”
Sima Qian walks out of his father’s workroom backwards, bowing as he leaves but seething inside. He wants me to learn but refuses a dialogue. What will happen when the Emperor decides to eliminate him and give all his trust to the witches and the shaman? He is both astrologer and historian, and in the tradition of son-apprentice, I will be expected to know as much as he knows. He signs my death warrant, as well as his own.
Carefully, Sima Qian blends with the pillars and the door-frame, taking care not to breathe too loudly, cough or pass wind. He must be invisible. The four are on pillows surrounding the ebony table, discussing what can be done. The shaman is expounding on his ideas and telling secrets that no one has heard before.
“Did you know,” he asks the Emperor, “that Qin Shi Haung encased the spirits of his household in the statues he created for his burial mound? His court, army and servants remained alive, but his sorcerer removed a tenth of their essence to the clay figures? He was showing all China that he respected human lives and would no longer force his followers to participate in mass suicide, as was done in dynasties before his. But this was an illusion; the one-tenth removed took away his retainers’ ability to demonstrate free choice in decisions. They walked about like puppets, unable to love or hate or have adventures after their replicas were sealed in the burial mounds.”
The Emperor nods wisely, even though there is an expression of surprise on his stern face. “So how does this fact help us?” he asks, not caring what a ruler in an inferior dynasty did to assuage his vanity.
“That is not all,” Ta Yi explains. “After the Qin emperor passed through the Heavenly Gates and the retainers went off into their new status, they inevitably died as well. Their ghosts were drawn into the statues at their deaths, to rejoin the tenth of them already encased.”
“All of the statues have ghosts in them is what you’re saying,” the Emperor replies. “Again, how does that help us?”
The shaman gestures to Lee Gee, wh
o held the two-leveled basket. The witch reaches in and brings out a cube, a box that is a square chi in size, ceramic in nature, and painted a rich purple. Ta Yi hands it to the Emperor who looks at it indifferently, touching its surface, running his fingers over the characters engraved on each side. The writing is familiar but from a former dynasty, and the Emperor does not want to admit he can’t read it.
“This, Celestial One, is called a Bi Mo Chu. It is a device designed by a sorcerer who lived in the Xia Dynasty, two thousand years ago. I am a direct descendant of his magical tradition and have a complete record of the workings that created the very first spirit-collecting vessel, for that is what it is.
“In the oldest dynasty, all of the courtiers were killed with the Emperor. They knew this would be true and easily allowed their ghosts to be his servants. The Emperor Zhuanxu was not satisfied with the numbers of ghost that would serve him, so he asked my ancestor, Ta Wing, to find a method to trap the ghosts of all that died in the province so he could summon them as well. It took years to accomplish this, but it was done, and the spirit-collecting began as soon as the Bi Mo Chu was complete.
“Before the death of the Emperor Zhuanxu, a battle raged and the warriors under his flag were unable to keep the challengers out. The Celestial One came to Ta Wing and asked him to release the ghosts already gathered. So he sent workings into the Bi Mo Chu, giving the ghosts the illusion that they were unconquerable heroes, and released them at the front line of the battle. The ghosts came out by the hundreds, tradition says ten thousand, but I doubt that many had died in the province. The enemy ran in terror at the sight of them. Fire flew from their hands and eyes; long knives sprouted from their fingertips. They all were three times the size of an average man. Soon, the threat was dissolved and the kingdom was safe. Word of this traveled, but it was never written in the histories of that time. I have it from the scrolls passed down to the shaman in his line.”
“This is a fascinating tale, but how can this story bring us victory?” the Emperor asks.
