From the moment she was born Kathy lived in two worlds: one, the world of her senses, of time and space; two, the larger world of memory.
Just beyond those two distinct modes of being there were primal forces that were always active in her consciousness. She was aware of the living presence of all the other human beings around her, every single one of them connected to her and undifferentiated from herself.
Her memory spoke to her in words and visions, contextualizing everything she encountered, summarizing each new experience at the speed of light…faster than light. The operations of her mind could occur in no-time, nearing the transcendent.
Every smell, every touch, every sound was evocative.
The things she saw, the foods and drinks she tasted, drew her out of herself and into another world.
As an infant she was often debilitated by the experience of new things. She would get stuck in the on-rush of memories, coming like a flood
She often found herself paralyzed and drifting, floating in-between worlds.
The voices came to her unbidden, they were the voices of her ancestors seeking to protect her, but they were more than that, they were more than a reconstruction of personalities from her ancestral memory.
Through her unique consciousness her memories were connected to the real presence of her ancestors, not merely her genetic memory. She was in tune with humanity, with actual people, long dead and yet persisting in Earth’s cynergenic field. The consciousness of every person who ever lived was present in this field, the nous-sphere. Within this quantum field every person who had lived and died was present. Their active presence in her own consciousness led Kathy to hidden places deep within her.
Every human being has the same genetic memory, and every person is connected to the cynergenic field. This was not unique to Kathy, but she was uniquely able to access all the remote regions of her sub-conscious and unconscious mind, to plumb the deep dark well of her being.
She discovered languages that no person had spoken for thousands of years. She conversed in them with her ancestors.
There were memories of love, of pain and the promise of transcendence. She dwelt in them, rejoiced in them and was lifted up by them.
Her memories were full of visions; visions of transformation, visions of her ancestors, of her own self always in a state of becoming.
Kathy took refuge there, entertained herself there, she relived the great dramas of humanity’s collective past, all of the stories that still lingered in the popular consciousness of her contemporaries, she explored them peeling away the myths, the lies and the propaganda.
She discovered the bare stories, the prime narrative behind the archetypal hero’s and god’s.
She spent even more time in the stories of the completely forgotten. In the memories of the farmer and the slave, the common soldier, the ordinary mother, among the artists and the craftsmen.
She found friends from among the people and figures of her memories, caring people who could guide her through the processes of managing the incredible deluge of experience that she was washed in.
Her internal mentors were not just figures from her ancestral past, they also had an active, conscious presence in the cynergenic field, and they taught her.
Kathy’s memories came to her unbidden, populating her consciousness, suggesting themselves for her consideration to frame her understanding of the events she was experiencing in real time.
In the act of remembering she experienced a dialog with the ancestors within her, deciphering events, answering questions in an instant.
It was an atavistic process, it happened faster than light speed, it happened in no-time.
Kathy was particularly susceptible to sensory input.
When she encountered a new feeling or texture, smelled or tasted something she had not experienced before, saw or heard something that had been unknown to her, the forces within her brought to her mind everything she would ever need to know about it.
She was prone to getting lost in the faces of people she met for the first time, learning their names, fixing their identities.
The wheels within her would turn and turn over everything her long memory had to give her regarding all of the times she had encountered a person with those eyes, with that nose, with that name, or that tone in their voice, with that scent.
This was always augmented by input from the spirits that hovered around her. She was in constant dialog with them. She belonged to them and they to her.
Anything that was new was surreal to Kathy. The more unique the event, the more fascinated she was by it. She was virtually incapable of being surprised, but it did happen from time to time, and when it did she was pleased, even overjoyed.
For her to witness something unprecedented was like watching a blurry movie, or an old TV off-axis, while the voices inside her attempted to shape her understanding of the event by providing context, offering comparisons, suggesting similes and complimenting it with knowledge.
Even things that were tragic and horrible, if they were unexpected and “one of kind” gave her something that she was missing in her life, something novel, and she would observe those moments with a morbid, self-satisfying curiosity.
Searching out the new was like trying to grasp a handful of water, or a fistful of sand. The thing or the moment she would reach for would slip between her fingers before she could hold it or retain the feeling of surprise for any length of time.
Searching for a new experience would cause her mind to construct in advance, ideas of what she would find. This was nothing more than the normal mode of anticipation. The closer she got to her goal, the closer the image of what she looking for, her expectations, assumed the character of what she would discover.
In that game she was always several steps ahead of herself.
She was prescient.
Trying to find what was new in other people was the worst, because she could sense their approach, she could read their minds, she could become one with their thoughts, and once she knew them she could commune with the spirits of their dead.
If she wanted, she could learn everything there was to know about them, and their past, more than they could ever discover for themselves.
Kathy had to practice mindfulness at every moment, simply to keep her grounded and in the present. Learning this was the ultimate discipline; it was the key to her sanity.
She exercised her powerful mind to create buffers between herself and the world.
For Kathy, knowing things came automatically. Details of particular points of knowledge filled her mind at quantum speed. Languages, and codes opened themselves up to her, revealing their secrets. There was not an article of arcana which she could not decipher.
Her consciousness worked outside the boundaries of time and space. She did not have to ponder or search her memory for anything. She simply knew. The meanings of symbols, of histories, the patterns in music, beats and rhythms, these things populated her consciousness in no-time. She could tell the stories of people, of human migration, stories that had never been written down. She knew where all the skeletons were buried.
Everything her senses encountered was filtered through a screen of the complete human experience. What she did not have access to, from her own genetic line, she could find through the cynergenic field, communing with the living spirits in the nous-sphere.
Both the past and present were open, like a book, she could observe anything.
She could even peer into the minds of her contemporaries, see through their eyes, becoming one with them in the confluence of their perceptions and feelings.
Kathy was the most powerful psychic the world had ever known. She was dangerous, and her value to the government was without measure.
In the intelligence community and in the world of cognitive science, the opportunity to work with her was considered to be the greatest privilege.
Kathy’s existence was a closely guarded secret, those who had the opportunity to put a question to her were held in the highest esteem by their colleagues. Even though they would never have any direct contact with her, just the opportunity to address the Sibyl, which was her code name in the intelligence community was an indication that the work you were engaged in was of the highest value.
The term they used to describe Kathy’s gift was prehension, an intuitive comprehension that came from a place within the quantum mystery of the atom, in the waves that make up the fabric of the subatomic field, from a place in which time and space are concepts without meaning, where there were trillions of points of light drawn into a singular focus which was the concrescence of insight.
She was the fulcrum. Her mind represented the pinnacle of all human consciousness, she was the full realization of its potential, and not just of humanity, not just of the Children of Earth, she was the fully actualized representation of the Ancient People.
Her coming was a thing that had been carefully prepared, by Jim, the Observer, for thousands of generations.
Her genetic code was the product of a careful breeding program, but there was more to his plans than merely producing a body with the latent atavistic capabilities he was searching for, which he needed for his campaign against the Continuum.
Jim had prepared for her arrival over thousands of lifetimes. He had prepared her to see him, to respond to him, to pick up on the subtle cues that would come from him through the genetic memory she would have access to.
He was preparing her in advance to be able to filter humanity’s collective consciousness, to draw what she needed from it at will.
Kathy would be to Earth’s organic collective what the Continuum was to the Collective back on Jim’s HomeWorld.
Kathy played music and she loved it. For Kathy, there was nothing more freeing than being lost in clouds of rhythm and melody, expressing her deepest feelings therein.
Through music the rest of the world could slip away, she could be alone.
There was not an instrument or a rhythm, a tonal scale or a mechanism of timing which she did not master instantly. The mastering of these, unlike the mastery of ideas, did not require dialog with the ancestors within her, the ancestors were present of course, both within and without, but in music their presence was non-verbal and ultimately unnecessary, her analytical skill would allow her to intuit anything.
She sang, with perfect pitch.
She could identify any note, any chord. She could replicate them in her voice, or on any instrument.
She spoke in her own voice when she sang, all the while sensing the multitude within her, guiding her fingers and brushes, her bows, sticks, picks and tongue.
Kathy was the living repository of all human knowledge.
It was an incredible burden.
She shunned it, but she found music to be soothing, liberating.
The visitation of her memories, the voices of her ancestors, these were always present to her, putting pressure on Kathy to act and perform in specific ways, but in music she felt more as if she was coming home to them, rather than the voices inside of her reaching up and out.
Music was like coming home to a place where there were no expectations beyond the moment.
Kathy loved jokes.
Humor was a relief to her and she funny even as a child.
Comedy is the art of the unexpected and of the surprise, Kathy loved it when she could suspend disbelief for a moment, allowing herself to be taken at unawares. It was a departure from her normal mode of being.
She craved it.
Her laughter was the first unusual thing that her parents noticed about her, a trait which distinguished her from other children, it alerted them to the fact that she was different, because her laughter was different, it was mature, it projected a sense of knowing, rather than delight and amusement, it seemed to come from a place beyond the tiny physical body of an infant.
Even as a baby she picked up on the punch lines of jokes. In her infancy she delighted in them, they fed her spirit, they were like water to a thirsty woman.
She understood the spoken words, the inferences that were made and shared between adults. She could follow their exchanges months before she had learned to speak. It was unnerving to anybody who witnessed it, therefore her sense of humor became one of the first expressive traits that Kathy learned to conceal, an act of social alienation and self-abnegation.
Laughter is like crying, it is a free and open mode of communication, it is non-verbal and honest. Kathy had to deny herself that honesty, she had to keep it in check.
The laughing person is vulnerable, and Kathy had to learn to hide that vulnerability, withdrawing inside herself, she shared her mirth with her ancestors and the other ghosts lingering in the outer-world, she shared with them and them alone.
Kathy was as quiet as she was observant. She took joy in the acquisition of knowledge, the analytical skills she was developing were more astute, but she also found that asking questions, the types of questions she asked set her parents and teachers on edge. She learned to watch and ask questions of the voices within her.
As a baby, she did not flit about randomly like infants and toddlers do. She was not easily distracted or delighted by the things that most babies are taken with.
She was a strange child.
As an infant her introspection was so extreme that in the first months of life her parents thought she might be developmentally disabled. They had no way of knowing that in those moments she was communing with the voices of her ancestors.
As she grew older she became focused, balanced and cautious. The evidence of her determinative spirit showed clearly through everything she did.
She repeated sounds and gestures in patterns that quickly became noticeable. The subtleties of her personality, the things they had thought were the ticks of autism, were in fact her measured and purposeful quest to learn.
Kathy was motivated by a deep desire to communicate, to be understood.
While she had the cognitive ability to speak, from the day she was born, she did not have the motor skills to form words, those took time to develop. She trained herself, quickening the pace by which she would learn to walk, and talk, and she would not be stopped.
Her parents had no desire to get in her way.
In the days when they were still figuring out what their child was doing, if they were to interrupt her or try to redirect her, they would see the flash of anger in her eyes.
Her anger was not the helpless rage of an infant wailing. t was the anger of a fully formed person who would not be deterred from her path.
She was a frightening child.
Her parents were concerned for her wellbeing and her safety, both.
Kathy was crawling within weeks of being born, and walking within a few short months. In her private moments she was flexing her muscles, gaining strength and tuning her body to obey her thoughts. The voices within her guided her. Through repetition and diligence, she gained control of her limbs, developing dexterity and coordination.
By her first birthday she was dancing.
Kathy practiced and practiced in the quiet moments of her day; she practiced at night, in the dark, while her parents slept.
Her vocal muscles were the most difficult to master. She did not speak a word until she was speaking in complete sentences. She practiced her breathing, she spoke to herself when she thought no one was watching. She listened to the conversations happening all around her, the dialog without and within.
She knew that her parents were concerned about her. Every person they ever brought to meet her told them how strange she was. Kathy tried to make things easier on them, but she was not always able to hide the things that she was doing, and she could not control her feelings.
The glands that produced the hormones and chemicals which formed the wetwork of the human emotional spectrum required a much greater level of discipline and a much longer measure of time to control.
In the nous-sphere Kathy communed with those who were not directly linked to her heredity. She was connected to the assembled masters of every tradition, they instructed her in physical disciplines, martial disciplines, cognitive disciplines, she had access to the full scope of human knowledge. They guided her and focused her, kept her calm, allowing her to see her own life and experiences in the context of the collective experiences swelling within her. She discovered a sense of belonging in the world through the interior of her mind.
She formed plans spontaneously, in order to realize her goals, her powerful mind operating beyond the limits of time and space, then she had to slow everything down, to allow her body time to make the adjustments she was preparing it for.
It was excruciating.
There were times when she wanted nothing more than to allow her mind to drift away, to leave the cares of the flesh behind, but when she felt that way, the chorus would rise within her, reminding her that she had a purpose to fulfill.
She had to prepare, be quiet, discreet, not draw attention to herself she developed her physical strength and the strength of her mind together.
She took pride in her accomplishments, they were her source for self-esteem.
Kathy could shut the outside world off, retreating into the recesses of her interior life, but she could not escape from the, they were always with her. She might ignore them for a time, but she could not away from them, even in death she knew she would remain with them, as with all people, a shadow of herself imprinted on the cynergenic field, to linger there forever.
Kathy took to the path of discipline to protect herself, both from the world and from what was inside her.
Whatever her parents tried to teach her, Kathy took to with ease
Despite the moment by moment challenges she endured in dealing with her atavistic connection to the past, she was nevertheless still a child, she had the ordinary instincts of a child, wanting to belong to her parents, and for them to belong to her. She wanted to please them, make them smile, watch them laugh. She did not like it when the things she said or did, or did not do, disturbed them.
Kathy mastered complex tasks without effort, she felt that she had to mask this. She felt she had to learn, or at least pretend to learn from her parents and the adults around her. This was one of the things that put her parents at ease. It was often the case that they would propose to show her how to do something, like tie her shoes, and she would just do it without thinking because the voices within her supplied her with the method she needed.
This unnerved her parents, she had to learn to slow down and hide these things, even pretend to make mistakes so that they could correct her. This was an exercise in conformity.
She struggled with the skill of blending in, with hiding her differences.
Her parents came to accept the fact that Kathy was pretending. They could tell because she was not good at it, and also because she would almost always shift to a pattern of action that was better, more efficient, quicker, more streamlined than what they had taught her.
For Kathy to get along she learned to be silent, to listen, to wait, to let the others fail without her commenting on it, and without stepping in to provide a solution. She had to be content that she knew the answers and had to resist the temptation to seek the reward of praise.
She practiced quietude.
She would not assert herself. She did everything she could to divert attention, seeking only the private recognition of her teachers.
She could not insert herself into the activities of her peers (she had none), she would not correct them or provide the right answer to problems that were proposed in public settings to her classmates.
She learned to experience success as a personal matter, only harkening to the applause that came from within.
She turned in flawless work.
She reacted negatively to her teachers when they tried to highlight her talents, her knowledge and skills.
This was difficult for her.
Like any child she loved praise, and she had to force herself to eschew it.
More than praise from her teachers, she wanted friends
The other children in her class did not like her, they did not like the way she looked at them, or the way she looked through them.
Intuitively they knew that she was beyond them
She was alien, unique…other, and she knew it.
She was different from every human being on the planet, different from all everyone who had ever come before her.
Kathy was no longer homo sapient sapient, she was homo sapient transcendent. She embodied the full scope of human potential and its actual realization in time. She was unique in all the universe, and she was born that way.
Kathy was still young when she realized the differences that distinguished her from everyone else. Empirically, she knew that she represented an emergent state of human evolution. Her ancestors within her had said as much, and that estimation was confirmed by the voices of the entities she encountered in the nous-sphere.
Nevertheless, it was easy for Kathy to succumb to the basic human tendency of assuming that the people she encountered were like her, that they shared a common point of view or perspective on the things and events they were witnessing.
Understanding her differences did not help her manage her feelings, or those of anyone else. She had difficulties. She knew that it was not her responsibility to control what other people felt. Whether they choose to be in a relationship with her, like her teachers, or whether, like her parents, the role had been thrust on them.
People were afraid of her. They either wanted to run away, or exploit her. Some people simply wanted to examine her, run experiments on her as if she was a laboratory animal.
Her parents were afraid of her, and afraid for her. They were simultaneously proud of her, and ashamed that they had brought her into the world.
The people who cared for her knew that she suffered, but they could do little about it, some tried to comfort her, most did so only as a convenience to themselves.
Kathy was angry all the time. She was angry with herself, she was angry with her teachers and handlers, she was angry with the voices of her ancestors that tried to soothe her from within, and she was angry at the presence of those persons she encountered in the cynergenic field, the spirits who were always seeking to intrude on her thoughts.
Kathy understood the things she was going through, she understood the physical transformations of adolescence, but like much of her knowledge, her comprehension of it was abstract. It was disconnected from her actual experience.
Understanding had little power to quell the rank emotions rising within her body, the chemical miasma fuming inside her, which were the same as in any youth.
In the abstract she understood what was happening, she regularly employed the techniques her ancestors had taught her, so she could control herself and reduce the burden she placed on others.
Though she did this regularly, she did not always do it, and when the mood struck her she would lash out at the people who were closest to her. She might invade their psyche, steal their secrets, expose their fears, and brutalize them.
She was not pleasant to be around, her proctors, teachers and handlers always approached her with caution.
As a child Kathy was composed, especially around strangers, she was composed in public and in social settings. She carried herself with confidence and a deliberate intentionality.
As a small child Kathy always acted with poise and purpose, so much so that it unnerved her parents. At times she seemed to them like a mythic-monster, but as she grew older they came to rely on it, believing that her unusual comportment was key to her safety and to theirs.
There was not a person who observed her in these settings that did not mark her affect as strange.
Most people were delighted in the strange and unusually confident child. A few, those who were more observant, were deeply disturbed by her.
Kathy was beset by fears, not just for herself, but for her parents as well. The poise that she portrayed was just a mask. She could keep it up for hours, even days if need be, but it was merely a ploy to hide the raging doubt inside of her.
As she matured, when she was in public she would became paralyzed by insecurity; she would freeze, become silent, and withdraw into herself.
Am I insane, she thought, who am I, am I alone, why am I alone, how can it be that there is no-one else like me anywhere in the world?
The answers she gleaned shook her to the core. They confirmed for her that she was, in fact, alone, unique.
There had never been another like her.
She searched her ancestral memories for evidence of the contrary, but she could find nothing, the voices within and without would grow silent.
She searched the cynergenic field for someone who could help her, and again there was nothing, or next to nothing. She could only find a vague impression of a teacher, a priest, a shaman, a person who had guided her ancestors in the distant past, but she could not locate that person in the now.
Kathy’s life was a series of disturbances.
Her parents did whatever they could to help her, bringing in tutors, sending her to special schools. They desperately searched for a place, an institution, a person, who could find a way to reach Kathy, to relate to her, to give some form of comfort and understanding.
Between the ages of nine and fifteen her family moved a dozen times.
They moved time and time again. They sold everything they had and they burned through all of their savings, every last bit of their family’s money. They exhausted themselves in the search for a solution to the challenge Kathy presented.
The only comforts they could really give her were material ones; food, water, shelter. They were unable to adjust to her intellectual and emotional demands.
Kathy knew what her parents were doing for her. She tried to cooperate, and she had good moments. Nevertheless, when she was feeling pained or lonely, when she felt like an alien in her own world, out of frustration and deep resentment she lashed out at them and her teachers.
She mocked them without mercy, she ridiculed them, she alienated everyone who came in contact with her. She used her gifts to reveal their greatest insecurities and she exploited them, not to get something from them, but to drive them away, to protect herself and her family from their ambitions.
With every new failure at building a relationship with her teachers and proctors, Kathy grew increasingly despondent. She felt the despair of her parents and it was magnified in her. She listened to the voices within her, most of which beseeched her to be calm, remain strong. She also listened to the voices that encouraged her to flee.
Kathy burned with rage. She was consumed by a hatred for the world, by self-loathing, and by the intrusive voices coming to her from the nous-sphere.
She did not find relief in the comfort of her memories. Kathy did not want to be calm, she did not want to be strong. Her contempt for everyone she came in contact with lit a fire deep in her belly. There was no talking it away.
She felt like an alien, she began to refer to other people as “the humans,” as if she were not one of them. She focused on every little bit of difference between her and the people she met. She allowed the power of her mind, her intellect, her knowledge to roll over people like a thresher, cutting them to pieces.
There was no therapeutic approach to help her mitigate those feelings.
She felt guilty.
In order to cope, she turned the heat and violence of her anger inward, focusing all of that energy on herself.
It gave her no relief.
Kathy isolated herself, taking refuge in music, and in movies and books. She spurned the reflexive desire to augment her experiences by consuming media in consultation with the voices within her. She did not go to them for insight or discovery, allowing her media habits to be filled only with the most contemporary materials.
In time Kathy learned to separate herself from her emotions. They would have killed her had she not done so.
The body is the servant of the mind, and as with all complicated machines it requires diagnostics and maintenance. She discovered the methods by which she could commune with her physical form.
She listened to it. Her body spoke to her. She exercised it, mastering every muscle, taking control of every gland. She gave it the attention it needed, sustenance and nutrition, whatever her body required to be balanced.
She took control of herself and found refuge in discipline, peace in the meditations that took her outside of her body.
With an ability that no human being ever had before, she would enter the cynergenic field, creating a distance from the structured, chemically sequenced emotions of her body.
She was guided in this by the ascended masters dwelling within her, and dwelling near to her in the nous sphere.
Kathy discovered the ontological reality she shared with every living being on the planet. She discovered that they were all united, in spite of her feelings of alienation, she found what made them all one and she learned to adjust to this reality.
Understanding her essential humanity gave her a great feeling of esteem.
Kathy spent the energy of her youth learning to master her thoughts and feelings, just so that she could get along in the world, but what she needed most was a place to escape. She found it in the real world.
The circle had become complete. The past, she found, could be more oppressive than the present, when she discovered that she became determined to live in the moment.
She discovered the supreme distraction in the passions of her body. Through self-pleasure and sexual coupling she was able to forget herself, forget the world around her, lose everything in the uncritical-careless delights of sexual gratification.
She lost herself in the attraction she felt for beautiful people, in the desires that were most immediate to her senses, lingering for hours, in the scent and taste of a lover.
Physical love was timeless. It concentrated all her attention in the now, where the present moment was everything, she became lost in it.
She found momentary peace there, a temporary release, and freedom in the orgasm.
The energy of a sexual climax delivered her to a place beyond space and time, removing her (temporarily) from the cynergenic field, or blinding her to it.
The world around her paused, she became weightless and all the concerns she had for herself, for others. All of the demands that the world placed on her, demands of fear, the demands of hope, all of those expectations melted away.
The universe contracted in that moment, as did her psychic connection to humanity, in that instant, she could go anywhere, be nowhere.
It was the pinnacle.
It was as if she had arrived at the peak of the human experience, stepping off into nothing.
From her first time with her first lover, to the last person she took into her bed; it was the same, she cherished those moments.
In that release there was silence, a quietude that none of her teachers could fathom, she likened it to the experience that her ancestor Gottama had, while meditating under the banyan tree.
There was a temptation to remain there, to stay in that magic place, to elongate it, to leave the world forever.
She flirted with the notion, but never seriously.
Without exception, the people Kathy brought to her bed were unnerved by the experience of watching her.
Her sexuality shook them. Some were traumatized by it, the greater their sensitivity to psychic phenomenon, the more empathic they were, the more they struggled in that moment.
When Kathy was five years old, instead of beginning kindergarten, Kathy’s parents placed her in private tutelage.
They looked at dozens of conventional schools, public programs, private institutions, schools that were religiously affiliated, and they did not encounter a single program that they felt they could trust.
Her parents took these step because they were continuously unnerved by Kathy’s mannerisms. The things she said and did, the things she knew, the profound abilities of her powerful intellect, which differentiated her from everyone, not just children her age.
In most cases they could tell within seconds or minutes that the administrators saw exposure to Kathy as something they could exploit.
They were afraid of her, and they feared for her.
They did not want Kathy to grow up in the face of other people’s fear, they did not want her to synthesize those fears for herself. They felt it would warp her, possibly turn her into a guarded and hateful person.
They were both desperate to help her, and eager to be released from their parental obligations. They could not face the idea of simply home-schooling her. They themselves needed a break from managing her day to day, hour by hour. They also knew that they did not have the skills to guide her.
Through the encouragement of advisors they sought private tutors to help them, professionals under a variety of disciplines, but every tutor Kathy’s parents brought in to teach her manifested predictable and disturbing patterns of behavior.
The tutors, psychologists, scholars; her parents contracted with professionals inside and outside of the educational system, including scientists, doctors, and other specialists in human behavior. They exhausted their resources doing it.
Without exception the interactions that any of them had with Kathy filled her parents with dread, and filled Kathy with a cynical unease.
At first they were delighted with Kathy, they would be welcoming in their initial encounters, and Kathy would tease them with the things they wanted to know.
They would come back to Kathy’s parents at the end of an interview, glassy eyed, and wondering at the genius of their child, going on and on about her potential, and her unique gifts
As the days went on they became fearful, scared. Those same gifts that had delighted them just days earlier, unnerved them with continuing exposure.
If Kathy wanted to get rid of them, she would attack them; she would use her psychic gifts to exploit their fears and weaknesses, she would abuse them by exposing their deepest secrets. This drove most of them away.
Those who stayed did so either because they had stalwart character, or because they were shameless, seeing in Kathy someone on whom they could build a career, or so they hoped.
They tested her, and wrote about her. News of Kathy spread in tight circles. People began to seek them out.
The shameless sought to use her for their own benefit, believing she would be a source of fame and wealth. The altruistic among them were convinced that the fate of the world hinged on learning her secrets.
Kathy’s private education was a bitter disappointment. Her parents quickly learned that they must put non-disclosure agreements in place with everyone who came in contact with Kathy, after which they were constantly occupied with the legal action to enforce them.
By her tenth birthday, Kathy’s parents decided to forego tutors. They had proven to be of little help to her or them.
They put her in the care of doctors and clergy, people from institutions which they believed had a broader commitment to supernal values, to doing good for the sake of doing good. They told themselves that this would protect Kathy from the meanness of the world.
They placed Kathy completely in their care, entrusting them to guard and educate her, and with that they withdrew from her life.
Kathy’s parents finally found the release they were looking for. They took what savings they had left and moved as far away as possible. They had no more desire to be a part of the decision making processes for their daughter.
They told themselves that her needs would be looked after, that she would be nourished and sheltered in both mind and body; they had done what they could and then they gave up.
Kathy was alone now, sequestered, institutionalized. She was not an orphan, she was just a child with no parents, and she was overwhelming sad by the absence of the only people who had ever loved her.
She was despondent. She had no sense of belonging. Kathy withdrew into herself and patiently endured being an object of fascination.
The people who took over Kathy’s care were good people, by and large. It had taken years for them to identify just who among the dozens of tutors and doctors they had consulted with, could be trusted to look out for Kathy’s interests, instead of their own.
Kathy’s imprimatur was key to the selection process.
It took a great deal of time for Kathy’s proctors, her selected panel of advisors to find an institution for her. She knew what motivated them as well. Their self-interest was apparent, but it was not a dominant factor in their search, or their decision making.
For the most part, they merely wanted to discharge their responsibility to Kathy in an expeditious manner.
When they found a place for her, they told her it was a home for prodigies and gifted youngsters. They believed it, for the most part, even though they knew the truth, they knew that the home they were placing her in was a front for the National Security Establishment.
They also knew it was safe. It was the safest place they could possibly imagine.
Kathy accepted it all, just as they voices within her moved her to do.
Once she arrived at this destination she read, she listened, she watched. She was the most astute observer any of her teachers had ever seen. She engaged all of her senses in the act of probing her memories. She brought to life the most-minute details of her ancestral experience.
She learned to remember the events she probed more accurately than the original participants could see it for themselves,
She was able to triangulate her recall of a specific moment, seeing it, from the perspective of multiple observers. She learned to penetrate their memories and their internal reflections, to separate those reflections as they changed over time like the individual threads of a bolt of cloth.
She was tested, probed, and examined by her proctors. They were continually seeking the limits of her knowledge, and developing theories as to how it was stored, what part of her psyche gave her access to it.
They used her as an experiment.
As a child she was periodically in a position where she did know what was going on, at times she just wanted to let things happen, she did not want answers as to why it was happening.
There were many occasions when she was unaware of what was transpiring, but she learned to see patterns, to dwell in them.
She preferred to think of things in terms of patterns, to depersonalize them in this way rather than seek the individual motives of the people she was interacting with.
Kathy learned to cope, she was alone in the world without family or friends. She had teachers and handlers, some were nice to her, most possessed a calculated indifference.
Kathy’s handlers had never considered the concept of an “ordinary psychic.” They were the foremost experts in all things paranormal and supernatural.
Genuine telepaths were exceedingly rare, but they existed, and when they were discovered every effort was made to bring them into the fold of the national security apparatus so that their talents could be used for the benefit of the government, and its strategic interests.
They were coerced if they would not come voluntarily.
In the later 20th century wherever they were found their abilities were tested, analyzed, put to use by spy agencies and police forces around the world. Genuine psychics were considered to be among the most vital assets of the state.
They could be very difficult to find. Given the nature of their abilities they were able to see dangers approaching from a long way away.
Most of the world’s psychics were mentally, emotionally and psychologically unstable.
The line between psychic abilities and psychosis was very thin. Schizophrenia and madness were common features among the gifted.
Psychic abilities of any degree were extraordinary, but Kathy’s gifts required a completely different understanding of the range of possibilities.
Every aspect of her life was studied in the most minute detail. With the greatest scrutiny being given to her genetic profile.
Her eggs were harvested, they made her a subject of human cloning. She was the most significant subject of scientific inquiry that the world knew nothing about.
Kathy’s moods normalized as she grew older, and she adjusted to the reality of her differences from other people.
Even though she had always understood, objectively, that she was unique, that she was a different kind of human than any other who had ever walked the earth, she had resisted the notion. She did not want to embrace it.
She was not homo sapient sapient, she was homo sapient transcendant, she was the apex of human potential, fully realized.
She was not only self-aware, she carried within her the full awareness of her ancestors.
She found resources in her memory to guide her in the development of her self-control.
She quietly disciplined herself to the measures that her ancestors desired her to take, she did this in the quantum field of consciousness where time was meaningless.
She did it in no-time.
As she learned to control her feelings and her moods, she learned to do many other things as well. She disciplined herself to the practical tasks that she was always being asked to perform by her handlers.
Her gift for analyzing data grew exponentially.
Institutions formed around her, think-tanks devoted themselves to studying her, access to her was more valuable to national intelligence than access to the fastest super-computer.
Her existence was among the most closely held secrets in the government, only the National Security Council had an inkling of the full range of her capabilities.
Kathy was longing for a place in the world.
As she advanced in her skills and gained control of her powers, her sensitivity to the motives of those around her became profound.
The intentions of the analysts who questioned her were an open book. She had to develop new skills, the ability to buffer, to keep herself from prying into the individual lives of anyone she was near to.
Through all of it she was starving for companionship, for friendship but she could not find it anywhere.
She did not want to know about the private lives of every person that she met, their fears, their hopes, their anxieties and their lusts.
Those things were disturbing to Kathy, she did not want any part of them.
She reported on how easy it was for her to read anyone she spoke to. She did not tell them that she could read people from miles away, or on the other side of the world, anyone could be read if she concentrated.
She told them the types of things they wanted to hear about her abilities.
She told them just enough to give them the feeling that they could control their encounters with her.
Millions of dollars were spent to mask the thoughts and intentions of the people who had to interact with Kathy on a daily basis. Even though these efforts were mostly connected to secrecy and national security, they were also meant to foster in Kathy a sense of belonging and community, which they managed to create but only with ever increasing levels of difficulty.
Kathy felt the artificiality of her life, as she reflected it weighed on her heavily, although if she was busy, preoccupied, she hardly noticed.
In her work place, every little detail of her environment was contrived, scripted and fake: the lighting, the view, the temperature, the sounds and smells; her handlers put everything in place like they were scripting a television show.
Their aim was to keep Kathy passive, and somewhat distracted.
No effort was spared to engender within Kathy feelings of safety and love, the sense that she was valued.
They would introduce something into her environment, a painting, a vase, a lamp, then they would measure its effect on her output, her vital signs and other expressions of her well-being, both voluntary and involuntary.
Kathy saw through all of the contrivances made on her behalf. At the same time, she appreciated the sentiments behind them, as artificial and manipulative as they were. She accepted those things and pretended that they were genuine.
She was able to maintain that a peaceful coexistence with her handlers for many years, into her young-adulthood. In that time she wanted to believe that the people she met had good intentions.
Over time however, all the false fronts vanished. She became cynical.
As she grew older her cynicism no longer caused her to lash out. She remained quiet and focused. She preferred, as all cynics and pessimists do, to think of herself as a realist.
She stopped wanting to believe that people had her best intentions in mind, she did not want their kindness or sympathy even when it was genuine. She knew that she was an asset, merely a tool, an unceasing object of fascination.
Analysts came to see her nearly every day. They brought their tests with them, they brought their questions, they brought their problems which they needed a resolution for.
They brought her work.
Kathy listened to them, and while she did she looked into their consciousness, she explored their hearts and minds, their history.
She would privately decide on who she would help and who she would not. She did not express those decisions overtly, but every analyst who could not get resolution from Kathy on the project they were working was relieved of their duties and subjected to a diligent examination.
Everyone who came in contact with Kathy was profiled exhaustivly, analyzing the analysts that who came in contact with her became a cottage industry in the intelligence community.
She read their papers, watched their films, and when they put questions to her, she shared her insight from the depths of her memories.
If she liked them then, she led them to the resolution they were seeking.
If she did not like them, their projects lingered, unfulfilled.
She read ancient languages, interpreted obscure symbols, and saw the patterns in everything.
Her handlers eventually learned what type of person they could present to Kathy, the type of people that would elicit a positive response from her, people she would help without coercion.
Kathy would not be coerced to do anything.
Kathy loved problem solving. She was making her career out of it.
She loved complex tasks, and she delighted in the resolution of new challenges.
She sought them out.
She took joy in creative and critical thinking. If her work was helpful to people, it pleased her.
Problem solving gave her a sense of purpose, it grounded her, it was where she found her place in the world and felt most as if she belonged to something.
In the cases she was presented, in the analysis she was asked to give, the greater the complexity and length of time for the project, the better it was for her.
She preferred challenges for which the answers did not just spring from her memories straight into her mind.
This was rare, the challenges facing human government, medicine, war, espionage, might feel new to most people encountering them, but they were not new to the human experience.
She was fascinated with encountering new things, new ideas, for this reason she devoted her private time to the study of the atom, to physics, astrophysics, and quantum physics.
Kathy quietly and privately wrote groundbreaking papers, this was an incredible source of pride and self-esteem for her.
Without being fully aware of the influence of her work, Kathy was generating research that rippled out through the global economy.
Access to Kathy was sought after by every think tank, causing the National Security Administration to work tirelessly to keep her identity a secret.
In order to maintain their own secrecy her handlers deliberately narrowed Kathy’s focus, restricting the scope of her involvement in matters pertaining to national security. They would parcel out questions for her in the hope that she might not see the patterns over longer periods of time.
They sought her understanding of minute details, doing everything they could to limit the information that she could glean from them about what their real concerns were. They worried that if she was ever discovered and captured, it could do irreparable harm to the country.
Kathy never revealed to them how easy it was for her to penetrate their thoughts.
She kept her own secrets, she held them closely, and she led her handlers down false paths to keep them in the dark about what the range of her abilities were.
If they would have known, they might have been comforted, or they might have killed her, something that many people at the National Security Council wanted to do.
She kept her full abilities masked. She never told them about Earth’s cynergenic field, the nous sphere, the spirit world.
She worked hard, and she produced data for the people that came to her, she offered expert analysis, and from time to time she took proactive measures to prevent a catastrophe from developing.
Her handlers became content to utilize her abilities infrequently, but on significant matters, having discovered that the more often they involved her in minutia, the more and more she was inclined to go out into the world and expose herself for who she really was.
Religious conflicts began to shape the later 20th, and the early 21st centuries. Kathy’s input regarding the origins of these conflicts was invaluable.
Current events had to be understood in their historical context, because tribal histories continued to move people long after the members had forgotten the particular details of a broken promise, an injustice or a blood feud.
Kathy’s ability to pinpoint the specific moments in time that were the antecedents of those tribal conflict was uncanny. If she could not reach the understanding through her own ancestral memories, she could commune with the spirits of the dead, she could pull the insight she needed from the cynergenic field, the nous-sphere.
Her memory produced volumes of insight for her handlers, but questions along those lines left her deeply disturbed. It caused her to dread the entire human race, the vile antipathy people held toward one another, and how easy it was for the bucolic life of a farmer, or a herdsman to become twisted by greed and driven toward the calamities of war.
It was a weight she could not ignore.
The human psyche was incredibly easy to manipulate. People were supple, pliable, soft and reducible. They had a vast capacity for self-delusion, and a profound willingness to be complicit in it.
In the midst of research Kathy often felt the instinct to flee, to run away from everything, and to never return. Just as she had been abandoned by her parents, Kathy wanted to abandon the world.
She desperately wanted to be alone. She knew there was no being alone, death was merely a transition to another state of being. There was no escape in it.
In time intelligence operatives stopped visiting Kathy in person, they engaged her by proxy and through handlers.
They did not want to expose themselves to Kathy’s penetrating psychic insight. They took every measure they could to conceal their motives. They only wanted the answers to their questions, they did not want any reflection from Kathy about the projects they were working on, the reasons why they needed their questions asked.
They submitted questions in writing.
They used a long chain of couriers to deliver the contents of their inquiries.
Everyone who came in contact with her was watched.
Utilizing multiple degrees of separation proved to be a valuable tool. It eased the fears of the security establishment that Kathy would glean too much information from their agents and analysts if they were exposed to her directly.
They needed this buffer to make themselves feel more secure, though it could do little to prevent Kathy from getting the data she wanted concerning their projects, who was involved what the motivation was, if she was determined.
Kathy received her assignments, and in turn she in wrote papers giving details and context in response to the questions they submitted.
She deciphered code, ancient script, offered geopolitical analysis, identified covert agents, pointed out weaknesses in their own security.
Oftentimes she did not answer questions directly, she supported their work by helping them to ask better questions.
This frustrated her handlers at times, but Kathy was not being coy. They often brought questions to her that they already possessed the ability to answer. Kathy did not want to be responsible for a weakening of the intelligence and security apparatus, she wanted it to excel through her engagement with it. She wanted to assist her fellow agents by escalating them and the scope of their work to its full potential, to see it realized in her time, because for all the faults of humanity and her own government, she felt it difficult not to be patriotic, and she believed that the American institutions of democratic government, liberal and progressive government, in spite of all of its flaws, was the only hope the world had to lift itself out of the ages of endless conflict…and like any other human being, she wanted her work to matter.
Kathy journeyed inside herself, reliving lifetimes through her memories.
She experienced the lives of her ancestors in quantum time, which was not time at all, it was outside of time, a transcendent state of no-time.
In that mysterious space she communed with her ancestors and under their tutelage she mastered all of the disciplines she required to control her abilities, learning from them a way that allowed her to function in society.
She wanted to be a normal person, to experience normal things, to feel the weather, or human touch, to see the beauty of the world and of humanity, to listen to music and the sounds of the city, to smell flowers and food cooking, and the bodies of her lovers.
She wanted those things for herself, she wanted more than to simply relive them through her intimate connection to the past.
She developed austere habits and disciplines in order to possess muscle control, discernment and patience. She developed the ability to flesh out the memories she wandered in, to experience them for herself as if she were truly living them.
There was no path too remote for her to follow.
In her outward facing aspect she took up the plastic arts, drawing and painting, she sculpted. She took the time to recreate the visions of her ancestors, while capturing through various media, her own unique experience.
Of all the “normal” things that people occupied themselves with, the ordinary pleasantries and other little things that filled up a person’s days and nights, music was the most difficult thing for Kathy to endure.
There were new generations of performers emerging all the time. Every year brought new waves of artists writing songs, making hits. Vocal styles changed, tonal styles changed, the content of lyrics and the popularity of certain instruments changed, but they only changed within a narrow range.
The rhythm and the beats, the timing of the drums changed even less over time.
If Kathy was careless a melody could cause her to slip, without realizing it, into another lifetime. She would fall into her memories, slipping away from the present in ways that were dangerous to her
A beating drum told a hundred thousand stories; they spoke of the hunt and the harvest, of conflict and the march to war, of years toiling in servitude pushing through the field and pulling at the oar.
Kathy loved music, she would use it for all of those purposes, but paradoxically her susceptibility to its auto-hypnotic effects made it dangerous to her.
It was an area of weakness.
Her handlers knew this.
They had observed the effects of music and other sensory stimulants on her, they witnessed enough for them to see the patterns, learning enough about Kathy’s relationship to certain stimuli that they could use it to manipulate her.
When Kathy danced she moved without thinking.
Dancing was trance inducing. Kathy lost herself in the drums and rhythms. She abandoned time in movement, in the moments flowing from the present to past ages, reliving the steps of her ancestors, she felt their feelings, both their fears and their hopes for the future.
She ascended in the dance, and in the dance she could disengage from the present world, its psychic noise and that space the din of chaos of the world slipped away, her cares disappeared, and she was vulnerable.
Kathy experienced this same phenomenon in many ways, but what made dancing different was its active character; while dancing Kathy kept her feet in the real world and she did not succumb to the temptation to retreat into no-time.
She hovered in between the world of the present moment and the world of her ancestors, simultaneously connected to each. With her body in motion, she could not fully disengage from the world around her, and at the same instant she was connected to both the world of her memories and the collective consciousness that joined her to the entirety of humanity.
Dancing was freedom, it was the ultimate expression of who she was, of her uniqueness as a human being.
Kathy danced for the joy of it.
While music and the dance were transcendent experiences, eating was a necessity, and for Kathy it was a chore. There were many days when she wished she could dispense with her diet altogether.
The rituals of cooking, the textures of food, brought her to places she did not want to dwell in. Not that the memories were unpleasant, that was not necessarily so, but she could not avoid the nexus of memories those activities brought her to.
What bothered Kathy most about the task of eating was her lack of control. Flavors and odors haunted her, they hovered around, clinging to her like ghosts. Taste and smell could transport her instantly to past times and remote ages, placing her unbidden, into a kind fuge, one she should not escape from.
She found solace in the bland, comfort in modern processed foods, in foods that were completely new and entirely foreign to human experience.
She avoided mixing anything in a bowl, stirring a pot, engaging in knife work and butchery.
Even the smell of baking bread, so pleasing and comforting to almost every person in the world, even that was troublesome for Kathy.
Eating was a necessity.
Kathy consumed most of her calories like an astronaut, sucking it out of packages that did not require any processing.
Of all the foods and drinks she imbibed, the most pleasing thing to her was coffee.
Kathy’s handlers took exhaustive notes on every observable interaction Kathy had with the world around her, categorizing them in accordance with how she engaged her senses. It was her analytical abilities that were most useful to national security, but her sensory engagements were the key to managing their interactions with her.
After years of working with Kathy, her handlers came to have an appreciation of how dangerous it could be to interact with her directly.
She could penetrate the minds of anyone who came in contact with her. This happened without effort in regard to those people near her, either close to her emotionally, or proximate to her in space, the content of their thoughts might pass through her as if she were sifting fine particles from the air.
In spite of her generalized feelings of alienation from society, the empirical fact of her interconnectedness to other human beings spoke to her of belonging.
She was one with humanity as they were with her, the thought comforted her.
For the sake of safety they determined to engage her at a distance. The efforts they took in this regard had a positive impact on Kathy’s life. Everything about her circumstances was completely contrived, this much she knew, but the contrivances allowed her to live a semblance of a normal life, and she appreciated that.
A semblance was enough.
There were some in the security establishment who argued that she should be killed, that she was too dangerous to be let to live, that it was too costly to keep her in the world.
There were powers at the top of the hierarchy who would not hear these recommendations, they argued two things; first, that Kathy was the most prodigious problem solver and analyst the world had ever seen; and second, that they needed to study every aspect of her abilities so that they could document the full range of human potential.
Unbeknownst to most of the functionaries in the intelligence community there was another overarching reason that Kathy could not be harmed, and must be given every possible protection, and that had to do with Jim.
Kathy was placed in a small-private college, where she did research, and wrote.
She became an academic.
It was a comfortable environment, quaint and aesthetic.
Her work was recognized by other academics and this filled with pride. She enjoyed the esteem of her colleagues.
Her handlers thought that distance and noise were the keys to protecting their secrets, believing that the more people they placed between Kathy and themselves the more likely it would be that they could shield their intentions and motivations from her
They were wrong, there were few limits to Kathy’s abilities, excepting those she imposed on herself.
Out of an innate drive for self-preservation, Kathy developed the ability to ward off psychic intrusions. She built mental walls to ensure her privacy, to keep the thoughts and feelings of other people from seeping into her cognitive flow.
As her mastery over her powers grew she also had to be careful not to project her wishes and desires onto other people. No one knew it, not even one of her handlers suspected this, but she had the ability to control the thoughts of other people, to audit their memories, to make suggestions that they were powerless to refuse.
She had little interest in doing such things.
She wanted privacy more than to influence people, and the boundaries she established for herself were crucial to preserving her sense of identity.
Those defenses required constant mindfulness, a diligence that stole her energy, and so, in order to rest, she preferred to be alone.
Kathy was a recluse, being alone was not enough, she also had to be distracted, her senses needed to be stimulated all the time, or else she would slip into the nous sphere, drift in the cynergenic field, or find herself caught up in the labyrinth of her memories.
Kathy desired little more than to be present, to be helpful, to advance the causes she cared about; diplomacy, justice, care for the environment and the safeguarding of the human race, against its own worst impulses.
She was increasingly focused on the nation’s long range plans to establish a permanent human presence in space, on the moon and toward the outer planets.
Kathy dreamed of a life out among the stars, and in those dreams she encountered a thread that pulled at her consciousness just like the threads of her ancestral memories.
She heard a calling that awakened her to a sense of purpose, and with that purpose she was able to direct her energy toward the realization of her potential.
Kathy began to experience a degree of freedom she had never enjoyed before. She knew that it was entirely conditional. At all times her handlers wanted Kathy close to them, under strict observation, but they became more adept at hiding their presence.
The apparatus they built around her was an amazing thing to behold.
The National Security team assigned to her utilized a revolving network of spies to keep her under surveillance. Every agent was linked by satellite, it gave them the ability to track her comings and goings in real time and from a distance which they felt was sufficiently safe from her prying mind.
Those agents whose mission it was to keep their eyes on her had no idea who she was.
They were junior agents who came and went so quickly from their assignment, that following Kathy was generally viewed as a basic training exercise. Nevertheless, every observation they made was pushed up into the cloud and correlated with the vast data base that her handlers were building to track everything she said and did.
Kathy felt her autonomy increasing.
Every little bit of space they gave her, she took.
The assignments she was given came less and less frequently. She could see the patterns in their behaviors toward her. She knew that she was both indispensable and a matter of grave concern for the people at the top of the security apparatus.
In time, she even had some freedom to travel; when she did, she went to the places that her ancestors directed her to.
At that time in her life Kathy began to feel something strange and unfamiliar.
She felt as if she was being followed by someone, and she was used to being followed, but in these instances she was being followed by a man who was not connected to the agencies she worked with.
She developed this sense in the normal way, in the way that ordinary people might feel like there are eyes on them.
That in itself was extraordinary and foreign to her experience.
She was being watched, she was under observation, she was being followed; the sense of it did not come to her from the psychic antenna that always attenuated her to such things, and that was the strangest thing of all.
The man watching her left no impression whatsoever.
She began to recognize him on the street, she would see him out of the corner of her eye while she was walking, or in a line at the store buying groceries, at a café or a restaurant where she was eating or drinking.
His face evoked powerful memories, but the voices within her were silent in regard to him. They could not offer any details on the man.
His presence sat in her consciousness like a weight on a fishing line, holding steady in the water.
She knew there was a hook, but she could not discern it. She could not read him. Or develop a sense of him through the cynergenic field.
He was a mystery, and mysteries are universally enticing, but even more so to Kathy.
She went to her mailbox as she did every day, she would reach inside of it always hoping to find some correspondence from her parents, or a teacher that she had been fond of.
She occasionally did receive mail from a teacher or a colleague, or one of the few people she had been able to form a kind of friendship with. It always delighted her when she did.
She never received anything from her parents, not one word came from them since the day they had left her.
Personal mail from any source was rare.
On this particular day, when her fingers touched the envelope inside she became very excited. Kathy ignored the fact that the letter in her box was neither stamped nor metered.
Its arrival was completely unexpected, and this excited her.
There was a mystery in front of her, and she did not have a clue what it might lead to.
She peeled the envelope open, took out its contents and read it, by doing so, she found herself entering into a conspiracy.
She was happy to do it.
The script was written in an alphabet that no person, other than herself, could have known, in a language from another time and place entirely. It had no connection to the modern world. She had to stretch her mind in unexpected ways to even recognize the pattern. When she did she was astounded.
There was danger in this letter, the kind of danger she wanted to run to, not away from.
It was a simple greeting, with an archaic salutation, announcing the man’s desire to meet her.
She was faced with a puzzle like no other she had ever seen, and she lept it from her handlers.
Kathy was powerless to do anything but wait, and then…
The day began like any other.
It was Sunday.
Kathy woke up, did yoga, meditated.
She prepared her coffee, and a piece of toast for breakfast.
She was looking through her task list for the week, planning her research.
Then the phone rang.
Kathy had not had the slightest premonition of it.
The phone rang, and rang.
Kathy was somewhat startled and slightly paralyzed
She allowed the phone to continue ringing, thinking that it must be a wrong number, but the caller did not give up.
She suppressed a bubble of fear that rose within her. She faced it, telling herself that she was the most heavily guarded person in the world.
She was safe, she had nothing to fear.
She lifted the receiver from the cradle.
Kathy said, “Hello.”
The man who spoke to her; he spoke in a language that had been dead for millennia, there was no one else who even knew this language had existed, because the tribes who spoke it originally had never possessed an alphabet, it was not written anywhere in the world.
Kathy had no trouble understanding him. She knew this must be the person who had sent her the letter, inviting her into a strange cabal, confirming their conspiracy, here, right now, with this conversation.
It gave her a sense of belonging, like nothing she had ever done or felt before.
Her heart began to race and skip; for the first time since she was an infant, she was not alone, and yet, she was slightly disturbed by his presence on the other end of the line.
Kathy was nervous.
She was Giddy.
She had reflexively looked for answers to the question of who this mysterious man was, she had peered into her memories, she had sought contact with him through the cynergenic field.
She encountered a disturbing silence on all fronts.
Not only could she not reach him, she could not glean any information about him from any source.
That should have been impossible.
After her preliminary foray, she accepted the mystery for what it was, a gift, and she stopped looking for answers.
She was determined to move forward one step at a time, and to let the facts reveal themselves in the present moment whenever that came.
They agreed to meet at a café Kathy frequented, a busy place. Kathy felt secure in that choice, she did not want to draw attention to him, to put him in the cross hairs of her handlers.
Kathy liked crowds. She was comfortable in them.
The more people that she was surrounded by, the easier it was for her to allow the psychic chatter of each individual to blend together as background noise.
She felt safe in the cafe. It was a place where it was not unusual for strangers to sit together, as she was about to do with the strange man.
Kathy was all nervous energy in the hours before she went to meet him, but on seeing him approach her she immediately began to relax.
She knew that she had never met him, but there were echoes of him throughout the long chain of her inherited memories, not him exactly, but someone like him.
The voices within her were silent, however, and so her memories were just impressions of a shadow obscured by mystery.
She found her own myopia tantalizing.
Why this man, of all men, why was it that she could not summon her powers to glean anything about Him?
She asked herself.
It was intriguing, it caused her to want to learn more.
It was as if he had been present throughout her life, her entire past, but there was no point of intersection where her genetic line crossed his, she knew this because if it had, she would know him.
Despite the mystery, or perhaps because of it. Kathy found herself at ease with him.
His name was Jim.
The sound of his voice soothed her.
He used patterns of speech and inflection that leapt into her consciousness as if he were speaking from her ancestral place, but he wasn’t.
He shared her personal-historical perspective but he was not a part of the same continuum as she.
Her first contact with him was a dream come true for Kathy, she felt a sense of privacy with him that she had never felt before in anyone else’s presence.
The most significant thing about him was that she could not read his mind.
He was a man like none other she had ever met before.
It took Kathy several moments to get her bearings when she met Jim.
It was the first time she had ever encountered a human being that she could not take the measure of in an instant.
It left her feeling disoriented.
Kathy thought she had prepared herself for the unexpected, his knowledge of ancient languages alone informed her that she was going to encounter a unique individual, or perhaps another person like herself, making her not unique at all.
The thought warmed her.
It was not just his knowledge, knowledge was not the right word for what he possessed. He had an intimate familiarity with the things he knew, things which no-one on Earth could possibly know, his familiarity was akin to her own, he knew more than the meanings of characters and symbols of ancient languages, he knew how the speech sounded when it was spoken, something he could only know if he had been there, or if he was attuned to some part of himself who had been there, as Kathy was.
Through her encounter with Jim, and the relationship that ensued Kathy understood her own uniqueness in a new light. She was fascinated by him, and could understand how others would be fascinated with her, she could appreciate their esteem in a way she had not allowed herself to look at before.
It took her several moments to adjust to this new reality. She was uncertain as to why she had believed that being in close proximity to him would change anything.
Distance and proximity had never been factors in her ability to reach another mind before.
Jim was closed to her, she found both maddening and liberating at one-in-the-same-time.
All she wanted to do was to be absorbed by him, to lose herself in him, as everyone she had ever gone to bed with had been lost in her.
For the very first time she felt a longing that was not rooted in loneliness and isolation.
She felt as if she were a distinct person, distinct from him and she felt desire for him.
Kathy looked forward to every meeting she had with Jim. It both excited her, and made her feel a deep sense of trepidation.
She imagined that at any time her handlers from the Agency would come to put a stop to this affair, to interrogate her and ask her endless questions about who he was, how he appeared in her life, what his motivations were.
She knew that they would be disturbed if she were to tell them that she did not know the answers to those questions.
Being with Jim gave Kathy a feeling that she had never experienced before; peace and comfort.
She felt understood
She was like a child with her father. He was older, wiser. His age was in fact unfathomable to her.
He never asked her to use her abilities, to explain things, to read minds, to solve problems, to perform her tricks. This differentiated him from every other person she had ever met, other than her biological parents, and for that she loved him.
Uncharacteristically of her, Kathy wanted to perform for him, show off her skills, demonstrate her intelligence, to show him who she was, and that she represented the apex of human potential, something she did not really believe, or want to believe but that she knew other people believed it of her.
She wanted Jim to believe it, to believe she was special.
As she rested against the stillness of his mind, and took comfort in his utterly opaque thoughts, she knew that he was an anomaly, like her but different. He was an ancient person, perhaps even an, and yet nevertheless human, human in the full sense of the term.
She loved him without question.
Part Six – Kathy
A Novel in Twelve Chapters
#Emergence #ShortFiction #12MonthsOfSciFi
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