“I don’t know where we’re going,” he said, “so it’s just as well if people can see who I am.”
“Clerical clothes may not be of any interest in this country,” Mannul observed gently, “but Your Eminence looks so elegant, it would be a shame not to show off these wonderful vestments.”
Val, as we now called Valencio, looked a bit embarrassed. His white jeans were dirty and his blue checked shirt crumpled. He had been playing with the children and hadn’t had time to change. My wife came to the rescue. She produced a perfect white suit, silk shirt, and a tie, and presented them to him.
“There.” She smiled. “I’m sure they’ll fit. There’s no shortage of clothes here. You can change in the bedroom. Tim is going to change, too. I’ve laid out his clothes on the bed. Go on, off you go, you two!”
I was to wear the traditional Agarthan “folk costume”: shimmering natural silk trousers, a beautiful embroidered shirt with inset stones, and an exquisite, broad belt with bejeweled embroidery. These belts are worth mentioning: skilfully executed gold squares with a multitude of precious stones illustrating images from Agartha’s history. They also indicate the history of the wearer.
“I don’t feel great,” whispered Val as we changed. “Uncle Luigi, the Cardinal, wants me to return to the Vatican with him, and he’s really stubborn. He won’t budge.”
“But he said he wanted to stay!” I burst out in surprise. “Has he changed his mind?”
“He was just pretending, to keep me happy. Oh, please help me! I don’t want to go back. I want to stay and make a future for myself here.” He stopped talking as the Cardinal came in with Mannul.
“We’re going now! Hurry up! Emilie and her husband are coming with us, as they’re not sure where we’re going. There’s a party venue, you see. Come on!”
We ran swiftly out of the house and jumped into the hovercraft with a boisterous dog. Titch took up a lot of room, but I couldn’t deny him the trip.
The celebration area was enormous. I can’t do it justice with a description, as you couldn’t see from one end to the other, and it was filled to overflowing with milling people. It was like a huge bowl of rice pudding, as most people were dressed in white, and many women had white headscarves. These scarves were braided imaginatively and sparkled with jewels. I have never seen the like, or imagined anything as amazing.
In the middle of the crowd was a circular arena like a circus. As we arrived, a path opened up through the throng, and people bowed and waved.
“Why are we allowed through?” I whispered to Sisilla.
“They can see your belt,” she replied. “Only people who work on the Council have a belt like that.”
I had had no idea. Questions filled my head as we were led to the arena and invited to be seated. Sisilla’s parents were there, to my surprise, and many faces I recognized from my field-trip to the Council chamber.
Arniel appeared and welcomed us all. “We always have a major meeting at Wesak,” he explained. “Everyone comes who can, as there will be songs, speeches, and plays.”
I looked around. We were sitting in a ring on plump, white sofas, around a large empty area in the middle. Suddenly, there was a man on a gilded podium. He had light-brown hair and beard and the most clear dark-blue eyes I’ve ever seen. He smiled, radiating Love and beauty.
“My beloved citizens, sisters and brothers!” he called. “We are gathered here this evening to celebrate the Love of the Light and the Source, as we usually do. May all facets of the Light be within us and be a glowing connection with God …”
Here the prelate from the Vatican stood up and in a voice of thunder called, “… and Jesus Christ, the only son of God!”
The man on the podium turned his bearded face towards the Cardinal. Smiling, he remarked, “You’re new here, aren’t you? Otherwise you’d know that I’m Jesus, known as Christ on the surface, and I’m one of the Masters of Shamballa. None of us wants to claim to be the only son or any other distinction. Nobody prays to us. The only one who lights up heaven is God, who reigns supreme and is the Source of all Creation. For us, there is only one.”
“Blasphemy!” bellowed the Cardinal, bright red in the face. “I don’t believe for one moment that you are Jesus Christ. As if he would be underground talking to every Tom, Dick, and Harry! You are blaspheming against everything which is holy by posing as the son of God.”
“That was your suggestion, not mine.” There was an icy edge to Jesus’ voice now. “Would you recognize a physical manifestation of Jesus? I’m afraid you’re in troubled waters, my friend. Everyone here knows I’m Jesus, Saint Germain is Saint Germain, and Melchizedek is Melchizedek, and that we, and many others who are Masters, exist in the fifth dimension in Shamballa.”
“Oh sure!” raged the prelate, getting angrier. “If you lived there, you’d be over two thousand years old!
“You’re all liars! The worst thing is that the whole populace seems to believe your fanciful assertions!” He swung his head angrily so that the small cap with the large tassel arrangement ended up perched rakishly over one ear. The audience roared with laughter and we joined in. Val went and pulled his uncle by the arm.
“Come on, Uncle Luigi, there’s no point in this!”
“We’re going home tomorrow,” hissed the Cardinal, “and you are coming too, if I have to carry you. I had no idea that the renowned paradise of Shamballa was a den of swindlers and rogues. I should never have come. I’m glad to have found you, my son. Now you’ll return with me and read for the priesthood. I’m sure the Pope has a fine position up his sleeve for you.”
“Really.” Val was seething with barely concealed anger. “If you think I’m going to take up some sham position, you’re a misguided bunch in the Vatican. I’m not coming. I’m staying here.”
“We’ll see about that,” said the Cardinal in a tone of superiority. I heard this exchange and decided the boy needed support. Jesus stepped down from the podium and my whisper to him left him grinning from ear to ear. He nodded in affirmation.
The Cardinal was looking grim. He was dragging a reluctant Val by the arm, trying to forge a path through the crowd. He hadn’t learned to hover, and people were moving aside with cheerful shouts and friendly pats on his embroidered shoulder.
A lovely, lively, red-headed young girl took the liberty of rearranging the Cardinal’s cap and waved to Val. “Here’s someone who wants to meet you!” she said. “It’s important, and work-related.”
“He’s going nowhere,” mumbled the Cardinal. “He’s going back to the hotel in this God-forsaken country.”
The girl, however, put her hand upon his, which was holding Valencio in a grip of iron. The priest’s fingers relinquished Valencio’s sleeve, and our highly-esteemed prelate began to disappear. In a moment, the Cardinal and his dazzling outfit had completely vanished. Jesus and I were standing a short way off with a surprised Italian boy.
“The Cardinal is back in the Vatican,” Jesus explained. “I sent him home, as his behavior was not conducive to our festive blessing. Would you like to go with Cardinal Reimfort, Valencio?”
Valencio shook his head vigorously. He had grasped the red-headed girl’s hand, and Titch, despite the crush, was trying to jump up and climb on them. Jesus climbed back onto the podium, laughing, and waved to an invisible orchestra, which commenced a wonderful melody. People danced where they could, mostly with their feet on the ground and arms around each other, swaying to the beat. An exceedingly beautiful rainbow became the background for an energetic song. I watched the two young people obviously getting acquainted.
Val looked at the girl, and she looked at him. I remembered meeting Sisilla for the first time; that was also at a dance.
“That’s Arniel’s daughter!” someone whispered in my ear. “Her name’s Tiira. She’ll look after Val, don’t worry!”
It was Mannul who had caught me up. T
itch had found me straight away, of course. We returned to the white sofa next to the podium.
The rest of the evening was like a dream. I thought there would be lots of boring speeches, but there weren’t! Wall to wall songs and dances of a quality the Metropolitan would’ve envied. It’s difficult to find words to describe that night. I held my wife’s hand, Grandmother held Lex’s, and Val held Tiira’s. We were provided delicious food and cakes, and drank the typical Agarthan wine. The crowds thinned as the evening progressed, and we enjoyed everything. The air was pleasantly warm and heavy with the aroma of flowers and herbs. Enough to make one doze off …
26. Visiting an Agarthan Orphanage
Val didn’t appear to miss his guardian. He often came around to chat and to drink tea. Sometimes Tiira came with him. She turned out to be a singer and actor and a very happy, kind girl. There was definitely something between them. I wished them luck with all my heart.
Some days later, I was in the garden early one morning. Sisilla was still asleep and I was in the arbor listening to the birds. Titch was with me, of course. I reflected on all I’d seen since the awful shipwreck and losing my father. I thought back to the training here in Telos and meeting my dear Sisilla.
I considered all the new friends and new experiences here, and felt happy and grateful that I was still me — a little wiser possibly — and not cold and dead on the sea-bed. Another life had awaited me, in a different place, in another dimension.
Actually, I have never felt as alive as I do here and now.
Mannul and Valencio came to collect me for the day’s lesson. Sitting in the hovercraft, Val enquired, “I think about angels sometimes and wonder if there are angels here, and if not, where are they? Are we angels, even though we think we are alive? Some people do become angels, like the holy Madonna and the saints, don’t they?”
“You have to stop thinking like a Catholic!” Mannul scolded him. “There is no religion here, just a belief in the infinite Creator. Angels are a race in the fifth dimension, not dead people who have been transformed. That idea is completely erroneous, although I know many surface-dwellers believe it. They hope to become angels when they die. That is not how it works. Angels are certainly incredibly helpful, good beings who are responsible for helping humans. They walk between dimensions and are very wise and sensible. The Bible, which mentions angels, is a book like any other, a mixture of imagination and unverified history which surface-dwellers have decided to put on a pedestal and worship. Not everything in it is true. Not all an author writes is true.”
* * *
“Excuse me, Mariana, we don’t mean you!” Tim remarked, smiling. “What is written in this book and what I’m conveying to you is actually true. The surface-dwellers need to know that we really exist! We’ll provide physical proof soon, but I don’t know when. It will happen! We’ll come back to that later.”
* * *
“Will I be able to meet an angel?” asked Val.
“Perhaps,” replied Mannul. “It all depends on you. You have a lot to learn first.”
“As you know by now, there’s not only life on Earth,” I interjected. “There are different forms of life across the whole Universe, and basic human life is similar, even if the Creator gave it slightly varied forms. There is human life, if I may call it that, on many planets other than Earth.”
This was difficult for a newcomer like Val to grasp, and I could relate to that. I had seen so much evidence to back up my claims, that there was no doubt left in my mind. He was silent now, but he’d soon see proof.
The hovercraft stopped. From a large, round building of gemstones a crowd of children flowed forth. They boarded the hovercraft and threw themselves at us. They kissed us and hugged us and patted us where they could. Mannul burst out laughing. “I wanted to show you an orphanage in Telos,” he said, grinning. “This is the ultimate hands-on experience! Calm down, kids, and we’ll get out.”
The children retreated quickly; a group of happy, noisy completely normal children.
“I wanted to show you an Agarthan orphanage,” he resumed. “It might be less rowdy now. Come on in!”
For once, Titch seemed subdued. There were children swarming all over him. He knew he was too large for even the tallest child to pet his back, and realized that it would be best to lie down. I could only make out his black nose, which emanated resignation, and I had to laugh. Soon he managed to escape from the attention, and padded along with us, close by my side.
It is difficult for a surface-dweller to imagine an orphanage like this. I reflected that the children must be happy here.
Each one of them had a space of their own with a bed, chest of drawers, and chairs. The assembly hall was huge, with all kinds of musical instruments in it, a climbing frame, and floor-cushions. A little boy came and patted my cheek.
“Someone puts us to bed each night,” he told me. “They tell us a story and hug and kiss us goodnight. If anyone is upset, they are comforted and hugged more. We get good food and lots of tooth-friendly sweets. Ill children get better very quickly. Somebody always comes to make us better.”
There was plenty of time for Love here. These little children were brought up in a loving atmosphere and encouraged to respond lovingly. It was a wonderful, liberating feeling seeing these orphans growing up surrounded by Love.
“Sometimes children come here from the surface too,” Mannul told us. “Sometimes we collect children who are having difficulties on the surface. They are registered as ‘disappeared’ and nobody even looks for them.”
Val sighed and said, “If they had only looked after me like this! I’d like to work in this amazing place.”
We were back in the hovercraft.
I had begun to realize how important positive thinking is; not just going with the flow. The power of thought is our strongest weapon and our strongest defense and our only opportunity for creativity — and I mean CREATIVITY. It took a long time before I learned to live by thinking, and creating through thought. Without Sisilla, I don’t know how I would’ve coped with all the education. In a strange, mystical way, knowledge stayed in my head instead of going in one ear and out the other. My memory was reliable, and I learned to increase it in various ways. There was plenty to remember in my new life at this time of change.
The next stop was a temple. We were to survey the everyday lives of priests and priestesses, Mannul explained. I had already done this.
“Priests and priestesses always work in pairs here,” he continued. “Often married couples take on difficult cases.”
“What does ‘difficult’ entail?” Val’s question was fairly obvious.
“Love isn’t always as pure as it should be,” was Mannul’s cryptic reply. “People have emotional problems here. When difficulties arise, there’s always the clergy to talk to, and solutions are found to all problems.”
As we didn’t have any great problems, it was mostly a guided tour of the inner temple, which was beautifully decorated with flowers. I noticed that Val stole up to the altar, crossed himself, and clasped his hands. A persistent seed had been planted in the dark rooms of the Vatican.
There wasn’t really an altar in the normal sense. There were lovely paintings and a small podium where the two priests were sitting. There were plenty of beautifully arranged flowers. Elementals were fluttering around inside and outside, and the color, perfume, and music contributed to the atmosphere of peace.
“How old can you get here?” asked Val. “Someone suggested hundreds of years, but I can’t believe that. He said you look young forever. That’s mad!”
Mannul grinned broadly at him. “But it’s true. The food we eat and the life we live are compatible with the highest principles of LIFE. It’s a secret you surface-dwellers have never been able to understand.”
“Isn’t it boring to live so long?” Val’s face reflected the suspicion and scepticism which I had fel
t myself when I first came.
I understood him, so I answered, “No, it never gets boring. Four hours of work and four singing, dancing, and playing, fill the days faster than you can imagine. The tiredness you feel at the end of the day is natural and healthy and makes for a wonderful sleep. I haven’t felt bored since I got here.”
“I asked Tiira too, but she just laughed. She didn’t seem to understand the question,” said Val glumly. “I’m going to try to believe you, and I’ve definitely decided to stay here. I want to see more; I want to see everything!”
Mannul and I exchanged glances and grinned. This boy was shaping up well, and the thought of him destined for priesthood at the Vatican made me shiver.
Our hovercraft flew around with us to the airport, the woods, the sea, and small villages. High up in the mountains, gemstone processing took place, polishing and design. Val was like a schoolboy, hanging around the various craftsmen and eating noisily, with obvious delight, the vegetarian food we supplied him with.
When we finally came to a stop by the elegant entrance to Porthologos, Mannul exclaimed, “Now I’ve shown you life in Telos and its vicinity. It’s time for you to learn how to use the power of thought to create what you want, as long as it’s positive.”
“What about the fifth dimension?” Val wondered. “When will I experience that?”
“Not today, anyway!” chuckled Mannul. “I’m glad you’re eager to learn, and in due course you will learn everything. Now we’re going into the library for a lesson in the art of creating, for which you will have the best teacher: Arniel.”
Val jumped, and put his hands to his mouth as if to stifle a yelp. Instead he whimpered, “Oh dear! Tiira’s dad! Is there a men’s room where I can make myself presentable?”
27. How the Earth Will Change
Agartha Page 13
