by J. K. Scott
Turbero told me that I had a ten-minute test before our meeting. The computerized test consisted of fragmented pixel forms and scrambled images. Each frame image required a single-word description. Minutes after the test, the results were available.
Turbero explained, “You possess a high percentage of insight and clarity, which confirms your special skills. Your intuitive descriptive words reflect your graphic skills. You scored higher than the control group.”
“What other group?” I asked.
“Twenty DWJ graphics analyzers took the same test. The group comprised more than three hundred years of experience analyzing cosmic filament.”
Humbled by the test results, I was aware the test didn’t provide answers on my ability to solve the images.
Turbero said, “Others are waiting for us.”
Andromeda’s meeting room appeared to be the same as my first day’s meeting room—computer-screened walls, long oval wood table, and captain’s chairs. Peter viewed a handheld screen as Turbero sat at the head of the table, surrounded by Cajun, Rio, Maya, and Allan.
Peter asked the first question: “Dak, what do you consider the highest risks for human survival?”
Surprised by the question, I glanced at the others and said, “Well, survival depends on abundance of food and clean water and air, as well as the eradication of debilitating diseases, deadly viruses, and bacteria.”
Turbero asked, “What about the planet?”
I pondered the question before replying, “Well, there are super volcanoes, serious earthquake faults, destructive weather conditions, near-Earth objects, and the increased weakening of our magnetic fields, solar flares or corona mass ejections, and more.”
“Do you believe these images represent a threat to us?” Peter asked.
Peter’s strong voice seemed intimidating as he stroked his uneven beard, more unruly than his thick black hair.
Carefully, I said, “Not necessarily a threat, unless we ignore the message. When I first saw the images, intuitively, they felt like rescue objects.”
“Rescue from what?” Cajun barked.
“I’m not sure,” I said.
Two screens lit up like neon lights, and the room darkened.
One screen displayed a suspended Earth, showing the magnetic north location at Canada’s Ellesmere Island. A compass pointed toward magnetic north, which aligned with Earth’s magnetic fields due to its metallic objects. More than three hundred miles north, the northern longitude lines converged, showing the location of geographic true north in the Arctic Sea.
Cajun asked, “Are you concerned that the weakening of Earth’s magnetic fields will reverse or flip polarity?”
I replied, “I’ve read that there have been four to five pole reversals in the past million years of our planet’s history. Science claims a five percent decrease in our magnetic field but a polarity reversal could take over a hundred years.”
Cajun said, “I didn’t ask you what you know but what you believe will be occurring.”
“It could occur, but I’m not a scientist.”
Cajun explained, “The south pole’s Matuyama-Brunhes magnetic reversal occurred eight hundred thousand years ago. The reversal took over two hundred years. There wasn’t scientific evidence of extinctions. However, birds, sea turtles, and other life-forms, like bats and bees, depend on Earth’s magnetic fields.”
Peter said, “Let’s move to another topic.”
“The University of Oxford, decades ago, released an article listing five human extinction threats: nuclear war, bioengineered pandemic, superintelligence, nanotechnology, and unknown unknowns,” Cajun said. “These five threats are still pertinent today. Dak, what threat is most concerning to you?”
I noted Maya, Rio, and Allan appeared distracted as Cajun controlled the questioning. Uncertain about the impact of superintelligence and nanotechnology, I asked Cajun to explain.
“Superintelligence includes advancements in software outbreaks that technologically self-modify as if they have a mind of their own. We are already there with supercomputers. Humankind lags behind the advancements in technology. Also, there are fierce debates that our universe is a digital world influenced by self-improving technologies or artificial intelligence.”
Aware of the digital-world controversy and the multiverse and parallel-world theories, I preferred not to discuss the subject, aware that Cajun could be hostile if what I said wasn’t covered in facts.
Turbero responded, “This particular topic about a digital world has serious ramifications. We will discuss it later.”
Turbero’s comment encouraged me. I asked, “And what is the threat of nanotechnology?”
“Nanotechnology challenges the control of possible irreversible developments. When we increase the power of matter with atomic molecular accuracy, it opens the doors to possible abuse. How do we defend ourselves from an unacceptable or destructive outcome? For example, nanotechnology could be designed to replicate undesirable biological forms. Even our current sensor implants are subject to nanotechnology abuse. This could be unbalanced by a country or person creating biological humans or weapons that could destroy our future,” Turbero said.
Encouraged to know that Turbero was adamant about the threat of advanced technology in biological implants and microbots, I noted Maya remained silent. Allan and Rio sat motionless, as if they were robots or uninterested.
Then, unexpectedly, Allan interjected. With a stiff, upright posture, he shoved his dark-rimmed glasses higher on his nose and said, “Overpopulation and ocean depletions, along with pollution, hurricanes, and flooding are concerning factors. And the solar system’s asteroid history is a constant threat to our planet. NASA probes are monitoring near-Earth objects like Bennu. But we still are unable to control a large asteroid’s trajectory to prevent a planetary collision. We’ve been successful with small asteroids, but anything bigger challenges our fate.”
The group agreed with Allan, but I chose to remain silent since their suggestions didn’t agree with the idea of a rescue mission.
Peter responded to the last item on the list. “The human mind cannot know what it doesn’t know. We could have the most destructive forces confronting us and be absolutely clueless. We search our skies and the outer edges of the known universe, not knowing the unknown. We don’t know what to look for that could destroy our consciousness. Or is our consciousness eternal? Or could it be dimensional, as theories indicate, or be rejected?”
Maya spoke. “The Andromeda think tanks have suggested there could be billions of dimensions. We have only uncovered the tip of the iceberg. Those with psychic insights or who have remote viewing skills are able to penetrate deeper regions of consciousness that are still being researched. We still don’t understand the physics of the UR-star. Only Sara has the ability to utilize the energy.”
Turbero reacted to Maya’s comment with a glare that could have melted ice. Obviously, Maya had overstepped her boundaries. Who was Sara?
I said, “Years ago, I read a remote book in my father’s library, Psychic Warrior by David Morehouse, which exposed the government’s secret missions to counteract Russia’s psychic research in the 1970s. I also read Ingo Swann’s Penetration. These books offered insights into my special skills. I am unable to identify a target from coordinates, but I’m able to see a nebulous filament scattered in space and surmise or detect its original form. My skill has been confirmed by dropping glass objects, which I then identify the original forms of.”
The group seemed aware of my skills and work but didn’t offer any explanations. We continued discussing threats and extinction levels. I hadn’t gleaned any extinction related to the forms.
Turbero seemed frustrated. “We need to move on since we are not answering the primary question.”
Peter added, “I have a problem deciphering why the forms are currently important. They have be
en dormant for years. What did they mean in the past, and why solve them now? Are they connected to the deaths of our operatives? Why is Dak’s messenger so important? Other people make predictions, and the majority of predictions do not materialize. Why do we have dark web bidders? What do they know that we don’t? We have the best masterminds at this meeting, and we still don’t have a clue what these forms are about.”
Peter’s comments filled the room with discouragement. The situation seemed to indicate defeat. It had turned into a question of why it was important.
Turbero announced, “Let’s take a thirty-minute break.”
Instead of letting out sighs of relief or engaging in chatter, the group left silently. Turbero suggested I eat lightly before the next meeting. A table had rolled in with sandwiches, salads, fruits, and drinks. I hadn’t even noticed its arrival. I took an apple and went for a stroll along the corridor. I glanced at the vibrant abstract art photos that replaced windows. Passing the double-doored rooms, I could only imagine past agendas discussed. The subject of nuclear electronic magnet pulses (EMPs) wasn’t even considered in the decades old University of Oxford article. Only a decade ago, we prevented an EMP with the “Mandrake” that interrupted the EMP before detonation, preventing the collapse of our society, but it caused other problems. An EMP explosion would release radiation and cause electrical failures of our power grid.
I contemplated our dependency on technology. Most humans did not possess survival skills to live off the grid that provides the process of energy for daily living. Only the survivalist groups prepared for the grid failure. I still believed the formed objects could be about our survival.
Peter wasn’t smiling when I returned, but he led me into a two-door room along the corridor. Inside, there stood a forty-foot-square mesh Faraday chamber. Every time individuals rode an elevator or airplane or placed electronics in a microwave, they experienced a Faraday cage that protected them or items from lightning or electrical interference. Was this Faraday cage a sign or coincidence, considering my recent musings about EMPs and electronic protection? I walked around the cage and stared at the two spongy chairs, knowing I’d be sitting inside.
Turbero watched me walk around the cage and asked, “Are you ready to go inside?”
I couldn’t believe how amenable I had become, but the clock was ticking.
I removed my shoes, stepped inside, and sat on one of the spongy chairs. I relaxed as the sponge adjusted to my body like a glove.
Turbero questioned my comfort and said, “I will be monitoring you nearby,” pointing to the glass window in the back of the room.
The lights dimmed and then turned to darkness. My eyes closed to listen to the faint sound of proprietary Hemi-Sync audio that synchronized my brain-wave activity. Turbero’s voice behind the glass window explained that the audio focused a coherent sound that improved human performance.
With the binaural beats synchronizing my brain waves, I sank deeper, hearing a soft voice telling me to return to the evening of the shadow.
I visualized my room when the messenger communicated with me in my bed. The faint voice urged me to talk to the shadow.
My heart spiked with the suggestion. The sound of the binaural beats intensified, and I mentally gasped as shadow seemed to surround the cage. I felt paralyzed as it hovered over me. My consciousness wanted to escape as the shadow’s presence seemed to absorb me.
In the limited space, the shadow overwhelmed me. Without direct light, the dark form felt like it was in two places. The majority of matter in the universe did not absorb or emit light, but this shadow seemed to be present without form, though I sensed its energy. I felt myself floating as an invisible energy form fluctuated.
The soft voice asked me if the messenger was with me. The shadow seemed to be waiting for my recognition. I seemed to hover in the far cage corner to avoid merging totally with the shadow.
Mentally, I asked the shadow, Who are you?
“I am you.”
Thoughts slowly percolated. I mentally asked, What is the void?
“Another dimension.”
What dimension?
“The torn dimension.”
What does that mean?
The shadow’s energy seemed massive. Mentally communicating, it said, “Solve it for survival.”
Thoughts disappeared as the shadow’s energy seemed to dissipate. With closed eyes, I felt the surrounding cage with an overwhelming desire to escape and disappear.
33
MURMURS IN THE Faraday cage aroused me from my sleep. Peter, Turbero, and Maya huddled in the cage. I had clarity, as if I’d been in a lucid dream, but I knew it was more real than a dream. After weeks of denial, I could not avoid this surreal encounter for the third time. The inducement to invite the shadow into my consciousness revealed that invisible forces seemed to penetrate reality. I realized that accepting its presence would only influence more encounters.
Straining to hear their whispers, I saw Maya waving her arms where I had hovered. Turbero’s instrument combed the cage, and a green flicker flashed as Turbero whispered that he detected more ionized gas (plasma) in the cage. They apparently felt my eyes on them, as they all turned to see me awake.
Within minutes, I sat in the captain’s chair near Maya, who informed me they’d recorded the session. The group wanted a record of my experience again. Rio from Hydra had recorded my body movements in the Faraday cage. I expressed my feelings frame by frame during the thirty minutes in the Faraday cage.
Viewing me in the Faraday cage with my recording would have frightened any hard-core scary-movie fanatic. Hearing Maya’s soft voice telling me to invite the shadow into the cage freaked me out. I saw the fear spread over my face as my mouth gaped with heavier breathing. Watching myself react to the shadow gave me chills.
Another video displayed my heart rate and motor disinhibition as my muscles reacted and froze. I felt frustrated, knowing how these images had controlled my life for the past month.
Physically and emotionally drained, I wanted to be alone, to walk outside in the real world. However, Maya had other pressing plans. Her probing intruded my privacy and inner thoughts. Sweet Maya had turned into a relentless interrogator.
Finally, Turbero intervened and asked if I needed a break.
I said, “I thought you’d never ask.”
Maya gave Turbero a disgruntled look. I reminded Maya, “You had the easy part! I had to experience another world!”
With her turned-up nose and piercing blue eyes, she sarcastically replied, “I know that the images are from another world, but we need to know which world.”
“The torn shadow world,” I snapped.
Maya said, “That’s what I want to know about—the torn dimension!”
Turbero calmly said to Maya, “Give him a break.”
In a sweet, calm voice, Maya said to Turbero, “I’m sure the winning bidder would tear him apart in minutes.”
Sarcastically, I replied to Maya’s comment. “Go back to Hydra and see if their computers can connect to the torn dimension.”
Peter jumped into the fray. “We’re working on it.”
I stopped in my tracks. “That’s it. The computers will analyze the dimension tear and penetrate the veil of the shadow world. How could it show the membrane or increased or depleted energy from the torn etheric dimension?”
Maya said, “The membrane is consciousness.”
I asked, “What if the images are from the torn dimension captured by old technology? Years ago, photos had more orbs and ghostly forms, explained as dirty lenses, dust flecks, et cetera. What if the old technology captured a tear in our reality, exposing the shadowy world?”
Peter said, “Physical reality could be experiencing a magnetic weakening and be becoming more accessible to other dimensions.”
Turbero added, “If consciousness is a membrane, w
hat level of consciousness is needed to access this dimension? Dak, do you have any thoughts?”
I said, “If the void is a tear, then that could explain aerial vehicles that move on a dime in a split second.”
Turbero said, “All thoughts are a consideration.”
Foregoing the much-needed break, Turbero mulled over the fact that consciousness could access the shadow world, suggesting that my skill reversed time. The thought gave me pause.
I yearned for a leisurely walk as the discussion overwhelmed me.
Peter said, “There is considerable research on out-of-body and near-death experiences. The physical body is a shell left with the inner consciousness free to access this other world or dimension. However, if you could consciously bridge both worlds, this could be considered a giant leap in human evolution. This could assure us that death is a transition, especially for atheists.”
Turbero said, “What if the evolution of Homo sapiens depends on bridging worlds into a more evolved world? We need to understand what this dimensional world means compared to survival from hunger, war, overpopulation, geological and solar disturbances, or other unknowns. All of our focus may not prevent our demise unless we enhance our consciousness. All the underground shelters and military answers on the planet may not be the final solution for humans.”
Maya asked, “Do we invite the shadowy world into our reality, or do we expand our consciousness to enter their world? And don’t forget that the shadow said, ‘I am you.’ Many believe there could be multiple personalities coexisting in this dimension as well as other dimensions simultaneously managed by higher levels of frequency or human consciousness. I suspect the bidders are questioning the meaning of the images, not the shadowy world. I’m certain many will accept this possibility or allow it to challenge their worldview. Thank goodness Cajun is not here listening to our discussion. He jokingly has said even if he saw a cosmic alien disk, he wouldn’t believe it. He would claim it was wishful thinking. I don’t know if he would agree that our consciousness creates our world.”
