by David Sloma
Lang tilted the open durian towards them. “Not going to even try some Charles?”
“No thanks.” Charles shook his head. “Anything that stinks like that, I'm not eating!”
“Suit yourself. More for us!” Lang said. He and the guards made quick work of the fruit, cleaning it all up in a couple of minutes, They ate fast, not seeming to mind the smell.
Once it was all gone, those who had eaten sat back, feeling full and good. Wendy grabbed the remains and threw them outside.
“Any word on Chang and the others?” the guard asked.
“Let me check how the viewers are doing.” Lang picked up the landline and dialed a number. He spoke quietly on the phone for a couple of minutes while the others poured booze and sipped at their drinks. No one was much feeling in a festive mood, however.
“Well,” Lang said, sitting back down at the table. “It appears that Chang and the others have been split up. But the locations keep changing. I'm surprised we haven't gotten a ransom demand yet, but then the kidnappers are running for their lives.”
“What about the microchips?” a guard asked. The other guard was silent, just watching and listening, cleaning his gun.
“There's no trace of them. I'm thinking they must have burned them out.”
“How are we going to find them now?” the guard said.
“Relax. We have other methods than just the physical; I told you what the viewers found.”
“A lot of good that's doing. So, they've being moved around. That's some help!”
“They'll locate them, as soon as they stop moving them.”
“Is there anything we can do?” the prof piped up.
“Not much at the moment, I'm afraid. There's a rudimentary lab here that you can use, but we really need to get it better equipped. I wasn't anticipating having you down here to work at this time,” Lang said.
“That's alright, I don't think our minds are much on work at the moment,” the prof said and looked at Charles.
“No,” Charles agreed. “But it would take our minds off things, if only momentarily. Let's go take a look.”
“Alright,” the prof said and shrugged. “Couldn't hurt, I guess.” He looked at his wife and she nodded.
The prof ducked into the bedroom and grabbed the suitcase with the research materials. Charles picked up the laptops.
“This way,” Lang said, getting up from the table. He walked over to a door off the kitchen and opened it to reveal a dark space. He reached his hand in to a switch and a single light bulb sprang into life, revealing a staircase down.
“Watch your head,” Lang said. He led them down a flight of stairs to the basement. They had to duck before the last steps, as the ceiling was at eye-level. “Not many houses around here have basements; that's usually a cold weather feature, so they don't put much work into them, if they have them. Guess they don't really know what to do with them,” Lang explained.
They clomped down the steep wooden steps into a large, unfinished basement. There was paint peeling off the walls, and the floor was dusty concrete. There were tables with instruments under plastic sheets to keep off the dust. “Not a lot here, I'm afraid,” Lang said as he pulled some of the plastic off, revealing a microscope hooked up to a monitor.
“This looks familiar,” Charles said, touching the microscope.
“Yes, an older model than you are used to, but it should work.”
“It'll be fine. I actually prefer these older models,” the prof said, looking it over.
“Oh, good, good. Well, I'll leave you to it.” Lang turned for the stairs, then stopped and turned back, “Make a list of anything you need and I'll see about getting it for you. No promises down here, and the way things are now, but you never know.”
“Alright, thank you,” the prof said.
Lang made his way up the stairs.
“What do you think?” the prof asked Charles.
“Only one way to find out.” Charles pulled a package out of the suitcase containing some glass slides wrapped in bubble wrap.
They fired up the electron microscope and checked their slides, seeing they were all still intact. Then, the professor took out his notes, and they tried to pick up their work from where they had left off.
CHAPTER 35
Hours later, Charles and the professor emerged from the lab for dinner. Wendy and Lang had prepared a delicious meal with the local supplies, and the aroma filled the house.
“How did it go?” Lang asked, setting a plate of steaming rice and vegetables down on the table.
“Not bad,” the professor said. “We couldn't do some things, of course, but it was good to get back into the swing of it.”
“That's good. Now that you are back to work, at least in some capacity, I can put you in touch with our lab in Prague. I was going to do that when we were interrupted by the attack, but I don't see any reason not to do it, now. We need to continue our work, if the reports from Prague are accurate—and I've no reason to doubt them.”
“What do you mean?” asked Charles, sitting down and serving himself some food. Wendy joined them, kissing her husband before sitting near him. One of the guards sat down at the table, the other one was on patrol outside the house; their new routine.
“Well,” Lang said, “the markers you found on the human DNA were confirmed by our researchers in Prague. We have a large laboratory there, fully equipped. It seems that there are several types of human DNA going around these days. One type has no markers, but seems to be missing several connections—this is the vast majority of the DNA that exists in the world, that most people have. Then there is the DNA that you both have found, with the marker on it, which has more connections. And, there is a third type.” Lang looked at Charles and the professor to see if they knew what he was talking about. They looked blank.
“A third?” the professor asked.
“Yes.”
“Like what?”
“Yes, do tell,” Charles said, in-between bites of food.
“It's another alteration. This one has more connections than the average type, which we refer to as the “dumbed-down” type, due to the people with it having less access to, or even awareness of, most anything beyond the five-sense experience of life. These people live as virtual “meat puppets,” having no sense of the Divine or spiritual matters. If they can't grasp it with their bodily senses, to them it doesn't exist. But those with the markers do have this spiritual sense; they have access to other realms of the mind, such as ESP, clairvoyance, etc. These are the types that make up our remote viewers, and indeed most of our researchers and members. I'm of this type, as you both are.” Lang looked at Charles and the professor.
“Yes, but you still haven't told us about the third type...” Charles said.
“This is the type that are our worst enemies. They are commonly called psychopaths. They do in fact, lack empathy. It's been bred out of them on a genetic level. They've been altered to not be in service to humanity, but to their dark lord, whom we call the Dark One. But the dark forces can go by many names, that is not what is important. What is important is that we oppose them and fight them on the genetic level as much as we can. If we don't stop them, their corrupted DNA will continue to flourish and there will be no going back.”
There was a silence as Lang's words sunk in. “I had long suspected as much, but I didn't have proof. Without a sample of this third DNA strain to test, I have been unable to verify the theory. But you are saying your people have done this?” the professor asked Lang.
“Yes,” Lang said and nodded. “Our tests showed, again and again, and on different samples, that there does exist this third, genetically altered psychopathic strain. Of course, if you don't know the test exists to find it, you won't use such a test. And that test has been hidden from general knowledge, but we have it.”
“This is...incredible!” Charles said. He put down his spoon. “It would explain so much in human history; why some have lorded over others, all the wars, the
killing, and slavery...”
“Yes,” Lang said. “I have long wondered why some humans acted in a way that was decidedly not in the interests of humanity. Some isolated examples of people acting selfishly could be excused away as mistakes, or those who had been abused not healing themselves and acting out towards others. But to have needless wars, suffering, and starvation across the world when there are more than enough resources and food to go around—no, this is supported by a certain group of people and their evil master.”
“I believe it,” the prof said. “It’s right out in the open these days.”
“They have even written of their plans to control and shackle the masses in their own books! They have an agenda, and that is to kill off mass numbers of people and to enslave the rest. This group is united by blood, by their genetic code that carries the mark of having been altered by an alien race for the determent of humanity. The Dark One gains from this, in feeding off the negative energy and suffering that is produced,” Lang explained.
“Is that Satan? The Devil?” Wendy asked.
“No. We don't see it in those terms. It is an evil entity, there is no doubt of that, and it's very powerful. But that is also a cause for hope, because in our world, our universe of duality, that means that there must be an opposite force to counter this evil. And, I'm happy to tell you that there is!” Lang smiled.
“I'm not sure I follow you,” the professor said. “I stopped believing in Bible stories a long time ago...”
“Oh, this is no Bible story, though some of the stories in there are more true than you might think, even though many have been warped and twisted. My Guild goes back long before the Bible was written. We knew of this dark force a long time ago, and we also knew of the good force. The good beings are very much like angels, beings of pure energy. There is the Ultimate Creator, and then his servants the Angels, and also the Watchers. The Watchers made the second alteration to our DNA, the first one having been made by the servants of the Dark One, the Greys.”
“As in alien Greys?” Charles asked.
“That’s right,” Lang said. “The Watchers reformed some of the original connections that we had, the spiritual awareness that we lived with. It's their mark, the three green circles on our DNA. We have been keeping their knowledge alive for thousands of years, and this is the time when we have the tools to turn the tide against the efforts of the Dark One. Now, we can return humanity to its natural state, as we were meant to be, as the Creator designed us to be.”
“Back to the Garden of Eden?” Wendy said.
“Yes, you could say. To our state before our DNA was altered by the Dark One and we “fell” – precisely! And, there's a lot of work to do. Most life forms on Earth have also been altered. You can understand why we were not able to undo this DNA damage on a mass scale until now. We were able to do it on a limited basis, person to person, with the use of certain psychoactive plant medicines through the ages that have the ability to transform the consciousness of the person using them, who can then reprogram their own mind and DNA. Also, the development of LSD and its mass proliferation aided in our efforts, as it too has these characteristics.
“So, some big gains were made in the Sixties, but they were not uniform, nor as much as was needed. And since then, many weapons have been developed against the masses to drive them backwards in their development, such as so much pollution, chemicals in products and foods that wreck DNA, vaccinations, pharmaceuticals, poison in the air, and water...I could go on, but you get the idea. EMF frequencies, too, faulty education, so many things.
“But we've always had tools not known to the masses. We also learned certain spiritual practices that can reprogram the DNA. You see, thought precedes matter and can affect it. This is something modern society and science has only started to learn, but we've known it for millennia. And used it. But for a way to help the masses of humanity, we were always searching for it. Now, with modern technology, we've found it.” Lang stopped talking and looked at them around the table. None of them had heard all of this before, so they were not sure what to say or how to react.
“This...is staggering,” Charles said. “I'm having a hard time getting my head around some of it. But I'm sure that will come in time, as I've seen and learned a lot of things recently that I never knew existed.”
“I'm glad you have an open mind. That's the first step in learning truth and gathering knowledge,” Lang said and smiled.
The professor looked at Lang and said, “You always have a way of surprising me! Just when I think I've heard the latest far-out thing from you, you come up with something else that blows my mind!” He laughed.
“Can't tell you everything at once. Where would be the fun in that?”
“What do you think?” the professor asked Wendy.
“I'm not sure. It's a lot to take in, without being prepared for it,” she said. Her husband hugged her.
“So, what's the plan, then? I mean, it sounds like you know where you want to go with all this? It's the first I've heard of some of this, too, but it feels right to me,” Charles said.
“I will forward you the data from our Prague group, once we get a little more organized, here. Then you'll have a chance to verify it all for yourself,” Lang told him.
“I'd appreciate that,” Charles said.
“Yes,” the professor said.
“Alright,” Lang said. He finished his food and went to make a phone call.
It was late in the evening when Lang finally got off the phone. The guards had changed over, and the one that had been outside was now eating the food that was left for him from dinner earlier. Wendy was asleep in one of the bedrooms, but Charles and the professor were sitting up drinking beer.
“You call this beer?” the guard said, after taking a sip of the beer offered to him.
“I know. It's all they had. Never heard of it. Some Mexican stuff,” Charles said.
“I've had worse,” the professor said and drank his beer.
“Me, too, but not by much,” Charles said and laughed.
Lang sat down at the table looking pale.
“How'd it go?” the professor asked.
“The remote viewer said that Chang and the rest of the men are dead,” Lang said flatly.
“What? Are you sure?” Charles asked, shock on his face.
“Pretty sure. They have a high accuracy rate. We'll send someone to check the site where the bodies are supposed to be, of course. But our viewers are not wrong a lot of the time.”
“Damn,” the guard said.
“Did you know them?” the professor asked the guard.
“Yes, quite well. Please excuse me, I want to go out for a cigarette,” the guard said.
“Will you tell him out there?” Lang said. The guard nodded.
“Thank you.”
The guard left the table and went outside. Lang took a beer and opened it.
“So, what now?” Charles asked.
“The viewers also told us that our enemies are moving to close in on us here, soon. We need to get moving.”
“Where?”
Lang took a sip. “I'm arranging an RV for us. We're going to equip part of it as a mobile lab for you and the professor. We'll live in it, too. We'll keep on the move, and that will serve two purposes; first will be to keep us safe, as it's harder to hit a moving target and the second one...”
“Will be to spread the corrected DNA wherever we go,” the professor said.
“You've been thinking ahead,” Lang said.
“I figured it was the inevitable goal, from how you were talking before. This is not just a research mission for your group.”
“That's right,” Lang said. “Our whole mission had been to not only keep the truth alive on Earth, but to spread it to all others, and restore the Divine balance here in the process. We think this is the only way it can happen; when what was taken from us is returned. By that, you know I mean our original DNA code and spiritual awareness.”
Charl
es and the professor nodded. “Yes,” said Charles.
“So, that's where things stand. As soon as possible, in a day or two, the RV should be here to pick us up. We don't have much to pack up, so it should be easy for us to get out of here,” Lang said.
“What about the gear in the lab?” the professor said.
“We'll take it as back up. The RV will have all new, up-to-date equipment, but we'll be on the road, so no telling when you'll need a spare of something,” Lang said.
“Sounds good,” the professor said and turned to Charles.
“Yes,” Charles said. “Sure. There's not much to pack up.”
“Alright, good.” Lang got up with his beer. “It's been a long day and lots of disturbing news. I'm going to retire and have some time to myself, maybe even get to sleep early, if I'm lucky. Goodnight.” He walked off towards his bedroom.
“Goodnight,” Charles said.
“Goodnight,” the professor said. They watched him walking away and sipped their beers.
“What do you make of all that? Have we got a chance? Should I make out my will?” Charles laughed, nervously.
“Might not be a bad idea,” the professor said, not laughing or smiling.
“Yeah. I was afraid you were going to say that.”
“Oh, but I don't think we're done for yet. If there are such things as angels, they have been watching out for us so far.”
“Maybe. But they didn't watch out for Chang and his men.”
“Maybe they didn't believe in them.”
“You think that has anything to do with it?”
The professor shrugged. “Maybe. Thoughts have energy. And it's true that thoughts can influence matter, as we've seen in experiments. So, I don't put it out of the realm of possibility, not after what I've seen and experienced in my life. Maybe these angels need people to be open to their help, to receive it.”
“I can buy just about anything, now. It does make sense. If you are thinking counter to something, you are repelling it, aren't you?”
“I would believe that is the case. Maybe we can experiment along this line when this is all over.”
