Rumi's Field (None So Blind Book 2)

by Timothy Scott Bennett

  Linda was shaking her head. "I mean... Hello? Why did you guys decide to cut and run? If you'd taken all of the wealth and power and resources you've spent to get away, could you not have stopped the destruction of the planet and retooled society to be more sustainable?"

  The Fisherman looked down at his lap. "This may be The Families greatest failing, Madam," he said, his voice quiet and sad. He looked up at Linda. "Our greatest sin, some might say. And one for which I believe we shall pay." He sighed heavily. "Could we have saved the Earth from the terrible challenges it is now facing? Maybe we could have. I don't know. But you yourself experienced how difficult it is to counter the driving impulses of a global culture bent on control, domination, and unending growth. We in The Families were 'done with them' long before you were, you see. Perhaps we suffer from an utter lack of faith in human beings."

  "Maybe we both do," said Linda.

  William shook his head in uncertainty. "I think most of our attention was on the aliens, Madam. The technology. The possibilities. We were tired of Earth. Bored, even. And some of us were horrified by the world wars. We wanted to leave. We wanted to go to the stars. And as the population grew and the climate worsened and the seas filled with trash, the news only confirmed that we'd made the right choice. Even we in the Element were guilty of this. Even if we'd had the power to steer the Directorate, which we did not, our minds were on where we were headed, not what, and whom, we were leaving behind. It was... " William stopped and sighed deeply. "It was a lapse, Madam.

  The Fisherman slapped his hands on his knees, then rose to stretch his legs and shoulders. He stood with arms raised, turning slowly, surveying the great plain that surrounded them, then dropped his arms and turned back to the President. "But here's the thing, Madam. As difficult as it may be for you to believe, a few of us through the decades, and including the aliens themselves - have actually been rooting for the masses of humanity all along."

  "How do you see that, William?"

  The Fisherman sat on the edge of his chair, his voice pitched with excitement. "Have you not noticed the great lengths we've gone to, Madam? To create as much absurdity as we could? It's as though The Families, while trying to break away from the masses, have also been unconsciously attempting to wake them up! Public statements about our goals and intentions. Nonsensical explanations, obviously false denials, and enigmatic documents about our true interest in UFOs. The release of paradigm-challenging data about our paranormal pursuits. Hints and bits of evidence for what really happened on the moon. We've allowed public layer leaders to act like complete morons in the face of obvious environmental concerns. We've promoted idiotic and clearly fabricated explanations for the 9/11 events, the Boston Marathon bombing, and the Miami nuke. We've done everything we could to say 'Hey! You over there! There's more going on than what the mainstream culture is telling you!' And all while being constrained by the Prime Directive and the necessity of choice.

  "And the aliens, Madam! They've continued to reveal themselves in absurd and provocative ways. Mass sightings over major cities, Madam. Face-to-face encounters in the private lives of tens of thousands of individuals. Ever more intricate crop circles. Some aliens even incarnated into human lives, in order to help lead people to a greater understanding of reality. They've done their best to deliver their invitation to as many people as was possible, while honoring the necessity for freedom of choice. Not just to the rich and powerful, but across the board. And you know what? People from all walks of life, all the layers of society, all around the globe, all throughout history, have accepted their invitations and done their work. And many have already moved on ahead of us, joining the great consensus meta-meta-reality that is being offered to us as a species." William inhaled sharply, pushed himself back in his chair, exhaled. His face was tight with defensive lines, yet his eyes were wide open, almost expectant.

  "And you could not have just told us all the truth?" said Linda.

  "'We want disclosure,'" said William in a mocking tone. "'Tell us what's real!' 'We deserve to know the truth!'" The Fisherman frowned, then sat forward in his chair and lowered his voice. "Really, Madam. It does not work that way. We will have to save ourselves. Of what use to the evolution of consciousness are beings who can only know the truth of things when it's given to them by experts and authorities and parents? Beings who are unable or unwilling to do their own spiritual work so that they can seek and find the truth themselves? Most of the UFO community was so offended to be left out by the 'cover-up,' and so affronted by what the aliens had to teach, that they could never actually see the possibilities before them, let alone take actions to explore those possibilities. Well 'boo-hoo,' to quote our friend Agent Rice. Somebody has been left behind since the first tetrapod hauled his inquisitive little self up out of the sea and onto the mud flats. Don't like it? Grow the hell up!" The Fisherman sighed deeply and sat back, his face dark and his brow creased.

  "You're really angry, aren't you William?" said Linda.

  William nodded. "It appears that I am, Madam," he said.

  14.12

  MaineCentral Hospital was abuzz with conversation and activity, but an outside onlooker, a human being, would have noticed mostly silence and stillness. The new doctors and nurses, the hybrids - the Tubies, as Mary had called them, though that was not what they called themselves - went about their business with an economy of motion and clarity of focus and intention that did not in the least resemble the madhouse one might expect from the medical shows one saw on television. Able to communicate mind-to-mind, there was little need for the shouting and argument and orders and joking conversation that might have otherwise filled the air. There were, at times, soft sighs and clicks of the tongue, and there was even a brief chuckle now and then. But mostly the doctors and nurses were quiet. The hospital was filled only with the sounds of televisions turned down low, and the happy, eager chirpings of machines that go ping.

  There was a meeting taking place at the nurse's station around the corner from the guarded door to Keeley's room. Present were five nurses and two doctors. They stood facing each other in a circle and said many things, though the conversation took little time, and did not necessarily follow in this order.

  "... APPEARS TO BE DERIVED FROM INFLUENZA A H7N7..."

  "... INFECTION RATE STILL UNKNOWN..."

  "... POSSIBLY RELATED TO GLOBAL EMP DETECTED 3/22..."

  "... CONTINUE WITH REST AND FLUIDS INSIDE PROTECTED CHAMBER…"

  "... NEURAMINIDASE INHIBITORS SO FAR INEFFECTIVE..."

  "... QUESTION THE NECESSITY OF ISOLATION FROM HER PARTNER..."

  "... NO DOUBT OF FAMILY ORIGIN..."

  "... EUPHORIC SYMPTOMS PUZZLING..."

  "... FATALITY RATE CURRENTLY 98.2 PERCENT..."

  "... LASTED LONGER THAN ANY OTHER REPORTED CASE..."

  "... MARY HAYES PROJECT PROCEEDING AS WAS PREDICTED..."

  "... NOW WE WAIT..."

  At once, and without any obvious word, sign, or gesture, the meeting's attendees joined hands and closed their eyes and reached out with their minds to the rest of their people, sharing their conversation with the larger community. After a few moments, they turned and walked away, returning to their previous duties. What needed to be shared had been shared. What needed to be decided had been decided. What needed to be communicated had been communicated.

  Now they waited.

  14.13

  "So you feel like you've been doing your best to help, don't you William?" Linda's voice was gentle and kind.

  The Fisherman nodded. "I do, Madam. And in some very difficult circumstances. As have the aliens who have stuck with us this long." William rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, then looked down at his lap. "I don't feel like... " He stopped and sighed heavily, then looked at Linda. "I would like for you to see that."

  Linda nodded. "I'll do my best to remember it. And you think the aliens are also doing their best?"

  "I believe that the Life are, yes."

  "But they f
led after I exposed them," Linda pointed out.

  "They've done no such thing, Madam, as any glance at the Earth's night sky will confirm."

  "But they've stepped back, at least," said Linda. "What changed?"

  "It is difficult to know for certain," said William. "We've had virtually no direct contact with the Life since their hasty departure. We know they were extremely unhappy with Agent Rice and his group. We know that exposing them changed the situation dramatically. And we know they had successfully activated the next stage of their project, which is you." His face softened as he spoke. "But in my opinion, they left because they realized that they didn't know what to do next, and that they were no longer needed."

  "Really," said Linda, raising an eyebrow.

  "Think of it, Madam," said the Fisherman. "If we regard the aliens as an elder or parent species, then we see that, just like we do, they find childrearing to be a particularly difficult job. How best to parent? How best to be an elder? What to allow? When to intervene? And how best to help an adolescent self-aware species mature into its adult form? These are not simple questions, Madam. Not for anyone. And the Life have made plenty of mistakes in the past, so they know self-doubt."

  "But to just give up... "

  "There comes a time, Madam, when the parent must push the adolescent out into the wilderness for his vision quest. Think of the aliens' departure as their last hug and kiss before they left us on our own. And think of the Grid as the line behind which the parents and elders now wait, to see if their beloved children will return from their quest. They have given us a gift, Madam: They are allowing us to take our next steps on our own. And the Grid itself serves as our one-last-challenge - the tiger in the forest, so to speak - against which we must test ourselves before we step into our new vision."

  "The Grid is some sort of test?"

  William winked. "All in good time," he said.

  Linda sighed. "So why do we need to be tested, William? Tested to the point of the destruction of an entire planet and most of humanity?"

  William smiled. "Because that is how beautiful, mature, adult human consciousness is created, Madam, just as beautiful, mature, adult butterflies are created when they push their way out of their cocoons and unfurl their wings, as that famous environmental parable shows."

  Linda frowned and shook her head from side to side. "I just don't know," she said.

  "You still wonder whether we should have simply told the truth all along," said William with a sigh.

  "Yes."

  "I would counter that the Prime Directive exists for a reason, Madam. Modern humans seem to understand this when they consider their own history. They've seen first-hand the destruction and loss that occurs when vastly different cultures clash. But they think, like any teenager convinced of their own invincibility, that this would not apply to them should they encounter a more powerful species.

  "The aliens understand this far better than we. They have seen it play out countless times. Revealing themselves, and sharing their advanced technologies, would be the equivalent of taking young Bobby's hand and walking him out into the wilderness for his vision quest, taking care of him, protecting him, doing everything for him, even sneaking him candy bars because Bobby just hates to go hungry, the poor dear. You end up with arrested development, Madam. But the Cosmic Community sees far too much potential for humanity than to allow them to remain as adolescents."

  William stopped, took a deep breath, and continued. "In the greater consensus meta-meta reality to which we've been invited, the powers to create, to manifest thought and feeling into shared realities, are greatly increased, and work much more quickly than they do in the physical bands. The Cosmic Community will not give humans access to such tools until they are mature enough - emotionally, psychologically, and spiritually - to handle them wisely."

  "But I told the whole world about the aliens on ACN. So didn't I already spoil things?"

  "Had that happened a hundred years ago, it would have made a huge difference. As it was, with wholesale environmental collapse so imminent, it made little impact. In these extreme evolutionary times, those who matter already knew, and those who did not already know had ceased to matter."

  "Spoken with all the coldness of heart we've come to expect from you people," spat Linda.

  The Fisherman scoffed. "Would you call us evil, Madam? As I have said, you would not be the first. But does it not strike you as odd that those who insist upon the freedom of choice and the evolution of human consciousness by one's own efforts are branded 'evil,' while those who insist on dependence upon, and salvation through, experts, leaders, angels, aliens, and gods are branded 'good'? The fact remains: no matter the circumstances - and yes we of the Element, and the aliens, have allowed some extreme circumstances to arise - freedom of choice is always right there for anyone to grasp and use." William stopped again, exhaled sharply, closed his eyes and rubbed at the lids.

  He opened his eyes and smiled gently. "We seem to have reached that field of which Rumi spoke, Madam." He glanced around the Martian plain that surrounded them. "Language fails us. Nothing makes any sense."

  Linda nodded. "It would seem," she said.

  14.14

  Mary rose to her feet. Her father stood in the corner, head hung low, his back to the room. Danny stood in the hallway where they'd placed him upon his return, staring in through the door with wide, unblinking eyes. The line of four beings had all passed through the window and were riding the blue beam up into the sky like an escalator to the stars. The robed being stood near the window, watching it all, like a conductor, a judge, a god. Everything was exactly as it was, as it should be, as it had been. Everything was the same, save for that word in her head.

  She took a step toward the window. The robed being watched her carefully. Mary knew that if she stepped up onto the sill and stuck her head out, she could simply put her feet down into the blue light and it would carry her away. And she knew, though how she could know this she did not know, that the blue beam would carry her to a strange and wonderful life. There was no choice, really: stay here to be beaten to death by her father, or join these mysterious creatures in their bright, pulsing ship. She peered through the window to see the four beings melt into the huge, bowl-shaped light. She looked at the robed being still standing inside her room. Then she started forward on legs that were no longer bound by their damnable paralyzing fog.

  She took a step, and another. Soon she was right next to the robed being. She could have reached out and touched the side of his face. But those eyes: so huge, so utterly black, like stairways down into dark, dank basements, and what would rush up the stairs to attack her if she got too close?

  The robed being stared into Mary's eyes. Mary stared back. She glanced at the open window, then back at the being, and then to the window again. It was time to take another step.

  The robed being cocked his head. A slight movement. Almost a twitch. And yet she could tell it was purposeful. She looked in the direction his head had moved. There was Danny in the doorway, eyes like half-dollars, shiny and filled with amazement. Mary looked at the robed being. He gestured again toward Danny with a slight nod of his head. Mary turned to look again at her little brother.

  Then she turned back to the robed being and smiled. "I want my brother to come with me," she said.

  The little robed being did his best to smile back.

  14.15

  "You don't feel evil to me, William. Neither did Spud, when I met him. But aren't some aliens pretty awful, just like some Family members are?" Linda had pulled her feet up under her bottom and was leaning her elbow on the arm of her chair. "I mean... people have had some pretty traumatic experiences with them, right? The abductions. The implants. The cattle mutilations. And I ran into a lot of people these past few years who told me about evil lizard aliens who were going to invade Earth and enslave us."

  "Are there alien species with goals and methods humans would consider 'bad' or 'evil'?" asked William. "A few might
fit that description, and we've had to deal with them from time to time. But now, with the Life's Interdict in place, none of them are a factor in Earth-Human affairs."

  "Because the Grid keeps bad aliens out?" asked Linda.

  "Among other things," said William.

  "I guess that's a good thing."

  "Well, that's the more important question, is it not? What is good? Who is good? And how do we know? I find that easy distinctions tend to fall apart here on Rumi's Field, so let me turn again to metaphor and story, if I may," said William.

  "By all means," said Linda with a wave of her hand.

  "There's a wonderful movie. American. Came out about thirty years ago. Jacob's Ladder, it was called. Do you know it?"

  Linda shook her head.

  "Pity. It's a marvelous thriller. In it, there's a character who sees visions of Hell. Another character relates how the theologian Meister Eckhart also saw visions of Hell. Eckhart explained that what burns away in Hell is your attachment to your present life. Your ego. Your personality. Your memories. The burning is painful, but it's not a punishment. Your soul is being freed. If you're afraid of dying, if you're not ready to let go of your Earthly life, then the burning will seem like demons, tearing you apart. But if you have made your peace with dying, you'll see angels instead of demons. Angels who are freeing you from the cares of Earth."

  William stopped and smiled. "I was never able to find any clear source material linking this to Eckhart himself, but the notion resonates, does it not? We all experience in our lives how good and bad can shift back and forth, depending on the context. 'Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing... "

  Linda held up her hand and closed her eyes. William fell silent. "The Earth is going through a great dying right now, William," said the President at last. She looked at the Fisherman, her face lined with sadness. "Not just humans but... God, William, the oceans and dolphins and... and have you see the forests burning in the north?"