Emergence 5.0 – Earth, Part Four

Earth – Part Four
On Earth, after the eruption of the Indonesian volcano, during the time that Jim was gathering the people together, forming them into enduring tribes, subtle changes began to take shape in the social and cultural traditions of the people.

The changes were primal.

The humans of Earth drew pictures in the soil with sticks, and painted them on the walls of caves to narrate their journeys and chart the path of their progress.

They understood the world in terms of images.

They were post literate.

They carved their hopes and fears into stones, and the faces of cliffs, in places that became semi-permanent homes. Generations of members would work on a single carving, the task being handed down from mother to daughter, and father to son.

In those carvings Jim could see the undifferentiated echoes of the memories of their previous sojourn among the stars.

Those memories lingered, they were intense and indelible.

Jim began to isolate the physical link that joined the current generation to its past in their genetic profile.

The stories they told about that time were confused and entangled with their current journey through the dark and sunless world in the years following the eruption.

They mixed colors and painted, projecting images of the future they desired, both the things they wanted and hoped to find, like food and water; and wanted more to avoid, a short life, a dangerous animal, an encounter with a stronger tribe.

The tribes were overwhelming concerned with safety and security.

Jim studied their art.

They depicted things no living person had ever seen, the memory of which they carried in their genes. Those images became stylized and fantastic, and in those stories, they made their ancestors into gods.

Jim augmented their access to these memories in subtle ways, slowly and cautiously at first, by altering their genome through the introduction engineered viruses.

The music of the people, the drums they beat, the rhythms they made, they pushed the stories of each tribe, each family, deep into the memory of its members.

Drums and rhythm operated as a visceral reinforcement of the memories that the human tribes passed down from one generation to the next.

It changed them, setting up successive generations to recall them, relive them, to transform those stories into a part of their living being.

Jim played to this phenomenon, he avidly worked to eradicate any form of written narrative.

He succeeded.

Every tribe developed its own oral tradition. Stories were handed down from master to pupil. Paintings and images, carvings and sculptures became objects of religious ritual and devotion. People only engaged in their creation with careful attention, but music was at the heart of the people.

Each tribe found its own interpretation of the musical scale. They developed their own drums, their own pipes and horns and instruments made of string.

This was a great science.

The exchange of music between cultures was often met with alarm, and fear.

All music was recognizable as music, but the form that it could take, the beat, the measure, the timing, the tonal quality, these could create significant psychic disturbances in people when they heard and foreign and unfamiliar scale for the first time.

For thousands of years Jim worked to exasperate those differences, before finally bringing them together. The result were new traditions of overwhelming beauty and complexity. Which not only captivated human audiences, but enthralled the Collective as well.

Jim’s work in this field was a grand orchestration.

Even before the Indonesian eruption of 72,000 years ago, the culture of these Children of the Ancient People had been in a state of devolution.

They had fallen from star-farer to cave dweller.

Yet the Humans of Earth retained a faint memory of their ancestry.

The memory of the stars they had crossed had been preserved through the stories they told, and in the engrams of memory encoded in their cells.

For Jim, this was precious little to build on.

In order to proceed with his work Jim decided to violate all the rules of his station. He utilized all of the skills he had learned during his time in the great sleep, and in sequestration to conceal his activities.

In the satellite station far above the planet there was housed the full version of himself hosted in the mechanoid body that travelled with him to Earth, this was true of all Observers.

He connected that consciousness not just to one organic host, but to hundreds of versions of himself living on the planet surface doing the work he had set out to do among the people.

This was an extreme violation of the conventions he had accepted and agreed to live by as a member of the Observer corps.

Over time, he received the materials from the Empire to build a space station.

Then he constructed a secondary, covert operating platform. In that space he was able to carry out experiments and human subjects, to perform the science that would allow him to carry out the augmentations both in himself and the human population that he needed for the furtherance of his plans.

There were a myriad of for Jim to climb in order for him to accomplish his goals with the Humans of Earth, there were numerous channels to cross. Jim slowly and methodically plotted his course and followed it, adjusting only when it was necessary.

Step by step and generation by generation he introduced the genetic changes he required into the breeding pool. Modern humans emerged from these processes.

During their sojourn to Earth, the Children of the Ancients determined what their physical needs would be, long before they arrived at their new home they began to make those changes.

They had identified Earth as a suitable place to end their journey, even while they were still light years away. At that time they still possessed the scientific knowledge to carry out the task of altering their physiology in order that they might align themselves with the gravity and atmosphere of the distant planet.

They began to mutate their DNA, altering their genetic structure so that it would allow them to inhabit and thrive on the wet-blue world.

Destination Earth, it was their last hope for a home and haven.

Over the course of generations they adapted to those new requirements, doing their best to anticipate what their bodies would now require, which they based on a climate and ecology that they could only model through computer algorithms.

It was a process of continual adjustment.

Every time a new genetic sequence would be introduced into the body, they ran the risk of a virus springing up, some of which were lethal.

Many of the colonists were struck down in this process. It was an ongoing tragedy, and while they had prepared for it, it was painful nonetheless. It called for a continuous examination of conscience. It focused the crew on the existential dilemma which they all shared, pertaining to survival.

Some of them wanted to abandon their mission altogether, and simply direct their vessel into the nearest star, bringing an end to all of them in one great conflagration.

The technologies they depended on, which were also the cause of their transformation and eventual triumph, those technologies began to be shunned.

Change begets change, it is a never ending cycle.

From one point in time to another, nothing is ever the same. This is true, no matter how finely you measure the distance between points.

Everything is changing.

Those ancient spacefarers became humanity.

Once they arrived in orbit around their new world, a slow metamorphosis took place.

Their contact with the Earth’s bio-sphere presented challenges they had never encountered before.

Life on earth was aggressive.

They introduced a new genomic sequence into their bodies for their final transformation. This sequence allowed them to accommodate for it. However, through a constant exposure to viruses and bacteria their genetic constitution had become compromised.

At the most basic level they converged with the native life of Earth.

They became a new people, they belonged to each other and to their new planet entirely.

This process took time. It took many thousands of years, and by the time the transformation was complete, they had lost much of the knowledge of who they were, of where they came from, and the technology they had brought them to their destination.

Their triumphal achievement was the root of their undoing.

They left the markers of each change they had instituted in their genetic profile as a road map for Jim to follow in his own breeding program.

When Jim arrived on Earth, he was surprised and bewildered by what he found. Nowhere else in all of the Empire, among all the colonies, including those that had perished before being discovered, nowhere else had such a massive cultural devolution occurred.

Jim had barely begun to put the story together before the cataclysm in Indonesia occurred, changing everything for him and for humanity.

Jim decided at that moment on a course of action that he had long contemplated.

With the gene pool having been reduced to just a few thousand individuals he knew that he had the opportunity to improve on the genetic structure of the whole.

He plotted the future development of the species and began to work out the steps and permutations that he would be looking for as the new species developed over time.

Changes in cognition were the most crucial thing for him to accomplish, while broadening their access to their genetic memory.

With subtle interventions from Jim, the human brain slowly mutated, and in that mutative process Jim discovered an unintentional consequence, with the human brain retaining properties that were key to the things that he had been dreaming about for a billion years.

Once he discovered the path Jim built an inherent capacity to store nanoparticles of key heavy metals, like magnetite and lithium in the cerebral structure, like electromagnetic receptors emerging organically in the human mind, this attenuated higher order thought processes to the Earth’s magnetic fields.

His work established a cynergy between every human being alive, turning the entire planet into a field for cognitive development.

Through his work, humanity became connected, in what the twentieth century theologian Teilhard de Chardin called the nous-sphere, and from it, what his contemporary, Carl Jung called the collective-unconscious emerged.

This field of consciousness was atavistic, and unlike any symbiosis that had ever been achieved anywhere else in the galaxy, with the exception of the Collective. On Earth fter Jim’s minor interventions, the collective-consciousness emerged as a natural property of the human race, unique to physiological environment of Earth, manifesting in a way that allowed it to go unnoticed by the Continuum.

Jim experienced that moment of discovery as one of triumph, knowing that he had fully actualized the launch phase of his grand ambition, the destruction of the Continuum.

The existence of the collective-unconscious on Earth was the one thing that the Continuum feared. It feared such a development anywhere and wanted above anything to prevent it. Yet it never imagined that it could happen in this way, therefore it could not see it a possibility, and never prepared for its eventuality.

Few humans ever became aware of the cynergenic field, or that they lived within the dynamics of the nous sphere, even though everyone felt it. Until the twentieth century they did not even have the language to describe it, even though everyone was entangled in its cynergism.

The nous sphere was coterminous with Earth’s electromagnetic field, as such, it permeated all things. Only a small percentage of human beings were sensitive enough to discern it, but, lacking the tools to analyze it, it took millennia to even develop the language to describe it.

If a physiological imbalance were to cause a person to retain too great a concentration of the particles that attenuated them to the field, or too small, if an improper balance was struck the individual suffered because of it.

An imbalance could give some human beings clairvoyant abilities, clairsentience, clairaudience, so called psychic powers, extra sensory perception or telepathy.

Oftentimes these abilities drove many more human beings to madness, into schizophrenia and psychosis.

Understanding of these phenomena had to wait for the advent of written language, and then thousands of more years to pass before they could share their knowledge of these conditions and come to an understanding.

By then Jim figured it would be too late for the Continuum to do anything about it.

Analytics are one thing, represent one mode of understanding, but Jim also relied on the truth behind this maxim: the flesh remembers, it never forgets.

The record of our experiences are pounded into our corporeal form, cell by cell, it forms the basis of our intuition.

Jim had labored diligently for the augmentation of this.

Our bodies are a living witness to the events that shape us, handing down a coded narrative from generation to generation in perpetuity.

We are changed by every new experience we have, each moment of perception is a new thread sewn into the seams of our identity. These are the fibers of the spindle, they are the engrams of memory, protein by protein they are woven into the fabric of our lives, by the warp and shuttle of our daily doings.

Each strands is like a prisms through which we project our future.

Our unique and individual experiences are like a tapestry, sewn with precious metals, embroidered with gem-stones, they are an endowment, a rich heritage that we pass on to our descendants.

It is their only lasting inheritance, laid on the table like a convivial feast at the moment of each individuated inception.

We experience our inheritance in our dreaming, when we are transported to places and times that we know we have never been to, never seen, and yet they are as familiar to us as the contents of our own homes. When we talk with strangers as if they were our dearest friends, and see ourselves reflected in the mirror of their eyes, though we do not recognize our countenance or visage.

The flesh never forgets, it remembers everything.

The Ancient People were bipeds. They stood on two feet just as the humans of Earth would in their time.

The longer the ancient spacefarers remained on their journey among the stars, the more they adapted their physiology to the unique exigencies of their vessel, and of deep space. In the case of the group of colonists that eventually landed on Earth, they had adapt themselves to conditions of near weightlessness prior to their arrival. The conditions of deep space altered the function of their limbs and digits, of their muscles and skeletons.

In anticipation of coming to Earth they began to alter their physiology again, altering it with intention, reconstructing the things that they had lost.

Over the course of generations they transformed as much as they could, back to the form that was the closest approximation to what they had originally been, preparing once again to stand on two feet.

On a cognitive level it should be noted that the interactive relationship between the creature (the animal and its body) with its environment were determinative factors in the spectrum of its consciousness.

Standing against the pull of gravity, under the weight of Earth’s atmosphere, balancing and pivoting on a central axis, walking and dancing, these activities differentiated human beings from every other creature.

It was with their heads held high, with their faces lifted to the sun that the first colonists moved across the surface of their new world.

There were many changes yet to come, augmentations and enhancements for their safety and security. The colonists knew that they would not be leaving Earth any time soon, they had to prepare themselves to rule it, as the apex species on a planet filled with predators.

They landed under the auspices of a simple rule: they had to adapt to survive.

Talking was the basis of sharing every advanced idea, and had been since the earliest days of the Ancient People. Talking was the precursor to writing, and through the written language the secrets of the universe were cracked open. Talking; the verbal sharing of ideas, feelings, and perceptions, shared through aural communications in waves of sound; listening, hearing in stereo; this mode of transmission is deliberate, it is slow and luxuriant compared to the speed of light at which visual and digital communications takes place.

The slowness of speech was dumbfounding to the Continuum, many potential Observers were washed out of the program because they could not adjust to its parameters.

Neither sound waves, nor light waves could come anywhere close in comparison to the instantaneous transfer of thought in the quantum field.

In the field of quantum entanglement, communication could happen in no-time.

Sound was slow and intimate, the only thing more sensuous was touch.

The sounds of the voice come in waves that crash through the whole body, not just the auditory canal.

To listen to the voice is to listen to the breath, to feel the living intention of the speaker, your dialog partner, adding depth and meaning to every insight they intend to impart.

Speech is relational, it imparts a sense of belonging to the communicants.

The embodied voice calls us back to the primordial time before the species knew anything of the stars, when we were just amphibians crying out for company, bellowing peels of warning, singing by the breeding pools in the swampy night.

The humans of Earth were extraordinarily sight dependent.

Bands of light cross the full spectrum, piercing organic lenses from corner to corner in a one-hundred and eighty degree arc, light reflecting off every object in the binocular field of vision, light and shadow refracting in a broad array of color, captured through the lens by its rods and cones.

Neuro-receptors in the brain flip the images around, creating the perception of depth, by which we determine distance and find our way through the three dimensions of space.

The broad spectrum of vision is vital to the human being, even in its limited range. Other animals see farther, other animals see in a different arc, other animals see more and less color, other animals see in different spectrums of light.

Some animals have ultra-vision, some have infra vision, specialized optics in relation to the things they hunt and furrow for. The human eye, even with its limitations, is powerful. It takes in a wide range of each of those possible fields, coordinating them for great effect.

Neither the Ancient People nor the human species evolved to hunt and gather with its sight. For the human animal, sight and the other physical senses were merely inputs for the mind, and the mind was the vehicle by which the human being stalked its prey, gathered its forage, planted, sewed, and managed the harvest.

The field of vision that the human being possessed was adequate to the task. Coupled with the brain, the healthy eye could discern and interpret images, it could accurately identify objects that it could not clearly see. This was an advantage that no other species on the planet possessed.

The human mind augmented everything.

The brain was split in two. The architecture of the hemispheric brain provided a cognitive override. If the messages from the brain stem flooded the organ with fear, desire, or any other strong feeling, the force of it was divided between the two halves.

This allowed for a fraction of a moment of distance to develop between the individual and the event generating the feeling. A moment when choice was possible, and the individual could act apart from the coercive effect of the external stimuli.

The human being was split down the middle, left for right and right for left. It was an organic duality. Cognitive function were split between the two hemispheres as well: mathematical, categorical, statistical functions to one side of the brain, while the boundary spanning, rule breaking, artistic and unorthodox functions occupied the other half.

It was symbiosis.

The hemispheres of the brain were not distinct. They were conjoined by a network, a wetwork of fibers, the tiniest of organic structures, not much larger than a chain of protein molecules, and that was electric. In this space the nano-particles of the neural net allowed each individual to be connected through Earth’s electromagnetic field, connecting them at the quantum level.

In the quantum field there was all knowledge, and the fullness of humanity.

In this cognitive space all human achievements were the property of the whole; every triumph and every tragedy belonged to the group.

The past and the present were one, as the human being was one, even in light of its inherent-physiological duality.

The human body is water.

Metaphors of fluidity permeated the human consciousness.

The surface of earth is mostly water

In times of crises the surface of the waters and the deep-deep places, is where human beings returned to for refuge, safety and sustenance.

Oceans and lakes and rivers provided everything.

The body needs water, just as it needs oxygen to fill the lungs, to fill the blood cells racing through its veins and arteries, coursing into its tissues.

There is no greater pain than thirst.

Just as unquenched desire is the thirst that leads to death.

Metaphors linking dryness to anguish, to pain and suffering fill the human imagination.

To thirst is to know that the end is near.

Thirst will drive the average person mad with the knowledge that death is fast-approaching and the end of the body is at hand.

When thirst is great enough a person will turn to any source of liquid, even liquids they know to be poisoned in order to slake it.

Thirst is a drive. It is the greatest motivator, greater than hunger, greater than joy.

The thirsty person will do anything, sacrifice anything.

Thirst will cause a person to give up what they hold sacred, even their own identity.

The body senses and it remembers.

The whole body is a cognitive organ, not just the brain, the cerebellum, or the cerebral cortex. The body writes memory into the genetic code of the individual, in sequences of peptides and amino acids. It writes them into the DNA. We pass those memories onto our offspring. We are born with the knowledge of our ancestors, they are coded into the fabric of our being.

The whole being is contained in the tiniest part, in the nucleus of every cell. It pushes us forward, it is a chemical drive feeding the quantum field of creativity, a neural net rooted in organic chemistry.

Our connection to the cynergenic field begins in the wetness of our body’s water, and rises to the electro-magnetic field of our high thought functions. It is a constant interchange of the analog with the digital.

We are a duality.

Just as the human being processes external stimuli through the brain, where chemical sequences are translated into electrical signals in a tightly choreographed exchange that takes place a billions of times per second. So does the human being function as an individuated aspect of the greater-cynergenic field.

Every human being is an organic node. An individual interfacing with the quantum field that comprises the whole. We experience these dualities within ourselves; individual experience and inherited experience, individual mind and collective mind. We experience these dualities, but we do so on the unconscious level, very few people ever become aware of the greater reality that they are a part of, drifting just below the surface. In this dual framework that we launch ourselves into the full realization of who we are.

In spite of our connection to this vast storehouse of memory and consciousness, most of the people in the world had no knowledge of the threat posed by the Yellowstone volcano in the twenty-first century, even though the information concerning it was available to them through the public domain.

It was on the internet, there had been many documentaries filmed concerning it.

The earliest documentaries, were the most truthful and the most disturbing.

The science, which was relatively new, revealed that the last event covered the world in ash, blocked out the light of the sun, and reduced the total population of the human race to just a few thousand. Tree ring samples, ice core samples, rock stratification and genetic mapping all proved it to a degree of statistical certainty that could not be ignored.

The next such event would be a terminal event for the human race.

People ignored it anyway.

After airing for a decade and raising the level of alarm, newer productions began to slip miss-information into the narrative concerning this threat. This eased public apprehension about the dilemma, while doing nothing in the way of preparing people for it.

The United States Geological Service (U.S.G.S.), closely monitored the volcano, aided by several nearby universities. They began to monitor it as soon as they realized what they had discovered. They were hungry for information.

Seismographs were deployed, and in time the vast magma dome at the epicenter was mapped out through global positioning systems, satellite tracking that measured uplift and deformation of the surface of the caldera at its weakest point, with enough sensitivity to track even a centimeter of change.

In the early days this information was available to the public, but after a year of intense geological activity at the site of the volcano the most crucial and most informative data became restricted.

When it was time, the eruption came without warning.

It shook the world, throwing it off its axis. Ash and gas poured into the upper atmosphere, covering everything in a poisonous cloud, hiding the survivors from the sun.

There was no safety anywhere.

When Jim first came to Earth, seventy-four thousand years ago, in the centuries before the first volcanic cataclysm that he witnessed, he made contact with the human family and he found that it was very small. There were just a few million people spread out across the globe, their culture had devolved, but they were beginning to thrive and recover their footing.

After the eruption of the volcano in Indonesia, the human family was reduced to just a couple of thousand people. Their extinction was looming, they were starving and suffering, living without hope.

Jim starved with them, suffered with them, journeyed with them to places of shelter. He led them to safe sources of water, food, and warmth. He lived as one of them through the dark days, through the decades when the sun was blotted from the sky, when the air was full of ash, and poison.

Death was everywhere, disease, malnutrition, exposure, the ordinary challenges facing any given tribe, but other human tribes were the greatest threat.

He had some ability to influence them, to keep them from committing the most ghastly crimes, the hunting of other humans for food, crimes of cannibalism.

In this era he only had access to limited technology. His satellite network was still rudimentary, and it did not have the ability to surveille the entire world, but he used it to maximum effect.

There were many tribes that he was not able to reach, those that went underground to escape the deadly air, consequently, those tribes experienced the greatest corruption of their identity and values, and they would plague the rest of humanity for millennia to come.

Jim activated the cloning systems on his orbiting platform.

He multiplied his consciousness, sending replicants of himself to dwell with every tribe he could find. This was a violation of his directive as an Observer, but that did not matter to Jim, he was intent on seeing the people through this disaster and rebuilding their communities once again.

Everything was in process.

Jim had studied the living planet, which he now belonged to, with tools surpassing the greatest assets of any geophysicist on Earth. It held no mysteries for him.

He had known about the life cycle of this caldera for millennia, and every other volcano on Earth as well. He was determined not to be taken by surprise by any of them, and there could be no strategy without knowledge.

The humans of Earth had discovered the caldera a mere forty years earlier. There science had only given them knowledge of plate tectonics a short one hundred years before that. They were living at the dawn of an age of scientific discovery, but only for a small segment of human civilization. They had barely begun to understand the atom and the genome, and they were quick to adapt their new-found knowledge into weapons and other useful tools, diverting their energy and attention from paths that might have led to their self-preservation.

Fifty years after their first flight in a small wooden craft, they constructed a rocket made of the lightest alloys that propelled them to the moon, where their astronauts were able to land safely and then return.

It was only when the heat beneath the super-volcano was discovered, and discovered only because their surveyors had found that it was pushing an entire mountain range upward into the sky, it was only then that they able to understand the geological forces at work beneath the beautiful and grand oasis that was Yellowstone Park.

Through his observation and the power of his instruments, Jim was able to calculate to the second when the volcano would blow. He wanted to intervene, but he was forbidden.

The Continuum decided it would do nothing to avert the coming disaster, preferring to harvest the drama that would ensue in the wake of it on behalf of the Collective.

The Continuum knew that life on Earth would be devastated yet again, but it craved the drama that this would produce, it wanted to watch the human race re-emerge once more from the ashes.

The scientists, and their cadres of college students, research assistants, people whose job it was to watch the monster volcano and study it, they inevitably became inured to the subtle changes they recorded.

They monitored the changes and warning signs in a way that was reminiscent of watching a person’s hair grow, gathered data which they had no means of correlating to actual events.

Jim did nothing to help them.

As sweeping as the observations they made were, which were as comprehensive as was technologically possible for them, the data they gathered had no predictive value, because every day was a new day in a completely unknown experience.

There was a deformation of the dome, over hundreds of square miles, there were earthquakes, boiling water in lakes and streams; something big growing below the surface, and they were for the most part, un-phased by it.

There were occasions when seismic activity would spike so sharply that it seemed as if the moment had come, but, after reliving those cycles dozens of times, even the occasional spike became a relatively commonplace event.

Doomsday cults sprang up around the world predicting the imminent end of life on Earth, pointing to the volcano as the instrument of God’s wrath, God’s judgement, the coming of Ragnorak or the return of Kali.

They were not wrong, insofar as the myths of Ragnorak and Kali originated with the last great eruption, but of course there was nothing supernatural about those events.

It was just geology, there was no divine wrath or judgement at all.

God had no purpose in it, only Jim.

The doomsayers, spoke to something that everyone knew was true. Every person alive carried the memory of the last event deep within them, and their fears about future catastrophes resonated in the cynergenic field. The collective consciousness of the human race knew that something was happening. It was disturbed, but it did not know by what.

There were documentaries about the volcano, television shows detailing what was known about its history, its cycles, its potential for global destruction, and the relative certainty of the impending doom.

The most prominent scientific journals published articles about it. Those stories made their way into popular publications as well. There was a lot of information available about the volcano. Nevertheless, few people were aware of the danger. Those who knew about it, were forced by the rules of statistics to tell themselves “it could happen today, or it could happen in ten thousand years.” This was a true assessment, it represented sound reasoning. They were measuring unknown capacities against geological time. Making it impossible to gauge when an event might take place, when it happen in six hundred thousand year cycles.

Jim knew when it would occur, he knew down to the second. He set things up to be the agent of the eruption.

In the second decade after its discovery, when the reality of the danger that the volcano represented finally made its way into the National Security threat assessment. The information flow coming from the scientific observatories began to change.

Public access to raw data was cut off. Everything about the volcano was filtered, cast in terms of potentials and probabilities, even matters that were well known, established and certain were characterized this way.

Misinformation leaked into the public sphere every day as the explosion drew near. The government decided that there was nothing it could do about the monster beneath Yellowstone Park, therefore they would do nothing, and they decided to work against a state of public panic instead.

The government decided to invest its energies into managing the aftermath, when the volcano erupted. They would position their forces to take advantage of the catastrophe on a global scale.

This was the best outcome they could hope to achieve.

Jim’s plan required the most delicate timing and meticulous preparation, it was a precarious endeavor. It came down to seconds, and those final seconds were everything to Jim’s broader goals.

The volcano buried beneath Yellowstone would destroy human civilization, but it would catalyze the preservation of humanity itself. A few people would live, but all would be saved through Kathy.

She was the vessel that he had spent thousands of years cultivating. She was ready and he knew it.

The cataclysm would change the Collective forever, the Galactic Empire as well, it would destroy the Continuum, and replace it with a new consciousness, one endowed with a fully actualized and transcendent morality, or so Jim believed.

Jim had spent lifetimes building the institutions, and years putting all the right people in place, cultivating relationships of trust, bribing and coercing when he had to. He made sure that there were no obstacles in Kathy’s path, and that she was prompted to take each step that would lead her to the crucible at the precise moment. She had to be in position at the exact second the cataclysm occurred.

The final hours and minutes Jim and Kathy were together allowed him to put a psychic hold on her. This did not give him the ability to control her, or to determine anything.

It was more of a push, he gave her some momentum and set her on course.

Jim had laid plans within plans, and contingencies for everything. His magnum opus depended on Kathy, on her openness to discovery, her instinct for safety and her genuine care for other people.

For as much as Jim positioned himself to play the agent of destiny, there is no fate, no divine hand governing the movement of the stars. Nothing is predetermined, but there are certainties, there are statistical inevitabilities. The eruption of volcanoes is among them, as the necessary result of geological forces that cannot be stopped.

With sufficiently advanced technology, such forces can be harnessed, controlled, used for the benefit of the people, and there was nowhere, no planet in the great Galactic Empire that did not have access to the resources that would make this possible. But planet Earth was alone, floating by itself in the far reaches of the spiral arm of the galaxy. It was an isolated backwater, thousands of light years from the nearest Imperial outpost.

Earth did not have the resources of other worlds in the Galactic Empire, it had no knowledge of the Empire, and the Continuum would not allow it to possess one.

The disaster on Earth could have been mitigated, it could have been used for the advancement of human civilization, but their technology had not develop enough along, they were perhaps a century away from being able to manage these eventualities on their own, without the technological support of the Imperium.

The end of humanity hung there. It was suspended in the balance between the apathy of the Continuum and the fascination of the Collective.

The Collective loved every moment of the feed streaming from Earth, they were hungry for the music, the art, the culture, the intensity of its conflicts. While the Continuum wanted to see the whole thing crushed, set back and controlled going forward.

It happened in Yellowstone, in the center of North American continent.

Yellowstone National Park was a place of awesome-beauty, a landscape of surreal contrasts exploding from the living rock and shifting mountain ranges.

It drew millions of visitors every year to wander its grounds and traverse its trails, and some who were simply driving through It was a sanctuary for wildlife; thousands of little creatures preserved in their habitat in addition to the apex species, the bison and the elk and the wolf who hunted them for food.

Yellowstone was made a National Park in 1872, through a law signed by United States President Ulysses S. Grant, one-hundred and twenty years before they discovered the volcano lurking beneath the fantastical landscape.

Yellowstone was a cradle of life, nested above the most deadly natural feature of planet Earth. Earth’s molten core burned beneath the thin mantle, a cauldron of liquid rock boiling below the surface, deep inside a vast chamber filled with super-heated and poisonous gasses.

In the park, the most popular features for tourists, beside the landscape itself, were the hot springs, the bubbling waters and high flying geysers that blasted off with incredible regularity. Heat from deep within the earth created these phenomenon, melting exotic minerals in the waters, giving them bright, colorful and psychedelic trappings. Some of the pools were so toxic and acidic they could melt the flesh off a person’s bones in seconds.

Changes in the pattern and timing of these geysers gave the tell to the monitors, that the Catastrophe was approaching, though by the time it did, it was far too late to do anything about it.

The scientists of Earth only noticed the volcanic activity when the mountains surrounding Yellowstone Park began to lift. They noticed a change of several centimeters over hundreds of square of miles of mountain range, between the newly conducted surveys and the surveys that had been taken a hundred years earlier.

At first they thought that there must have been a problem with the original surveil, but they ruled out that possibility in short order. The science of surveying was well established at the time they were originally conducted, even the equipment that a person would use to make those calculations had not changed much in the intervening decades.

The math was the math and it was sound.

It took the best geologists among them years to figure out that the changes were actually caused by geological uplift. The understanding of what that meant, its implications, took even more years to fathom. The geologists had to change their perspective significantly, they had to look at the area of uplift with satellite imagery and only then did they notice that the entire Yellowstone Park was a massive volcano.

Even then, they did not know how significant the problem was.

Geologists from across the country began to study the park in minute detail. Looking at every strata of rock they could see exposed in the surfaces of the surrounding mountains, measuring and re-measuring, and through their diligence they discovered the long cycles between eruptions of this killer volcano.

A six-hundred thousand year cycle, literally spelled out a cycle of reoccurring planetary doom, the expectation of it took on a mythic stature.

When they knew what features to look for, they discovered other such volcanos around the world. They discovered the volcano in Indonesia that last erupted seventy-four thousand years ago.

The Earth’s volcanologists, climatologists and geophysicists weighed in. It was a small cabal of people. They correlated data from arctic ice core samples, soil samples, tree ring samples. They began to understand just how devastating an eruption of a volcano this size could be.

They were hoping it would not erupt in their lifetime.

Those hopes were in vain, the entire planet was under threat, no-one was safe.

There was a rumbling. The seismographs told the tale.

They had been graphing it for years, but disbelief had crept into the analysis. The story was blacked out, even as the tar in the roads that cut through Yellowstone above the volcano began to melt, cracking from the heat beneath and the top researches on the site resigned to protest the deliberate misinformation campaign waged by the government to keep people in the dark.

The government knew the disaster was coming. They just could not be sure when. It might not happen in their lifetime or it might happen tomorrow. It was an impossible thing for them to plan.

Those who understood the nature of the problem, and those who did not quite get it, they were all together in the same web of uncertainty, making the laypersons view as valid as the expert.

It was a quiet day in the great park.

Yellowstone was always quiet.

Deep beneath the earth something was happening. Pressure was building. Molten rock was bubbling, rushing into the great chamber.

The wildlife in the nature preserve sensed it first, birds took off with their entire flocks. Bison fled in droves. The wolf and the fox and the coyote followed them, all creatures great and small sought a path of escape.

Most of the humans looked on, befuddled, out of touch with their instincts and disconnected from the Earth.

A few knew what this meant, or believed they did. They sounded the warning. Some of them were alarmists by nature, they were perceived as people who were always ringing the bell, Chicken Littles crying out, The Sky is Falling!

It ended up in the news of the weird.

Few of the researches fled the park, the all knew it was hopeless. They wanted to see their families, perhaps one last time before it was all over. Those who could did, those who couldn’t opened bottles of Champagne and toasted the end of the world.

Their life’s work was now complete.

The survivalists retreated to their shelters, basking in the esteem of vindication.

They were being proved right.

Every living thing on Earth, above ground or in the air heard the explosion when it happened, everything, even the most remote creature in the deepest ocean, felt the blast. Every creature walking or standing, stumbled and fell as the planet lurched, shuddered and shifted on its axis. Fault lines cracked open, leaping a thousand years forward in the space of seconds. It was a massive upheaval, it was turmoil on an unimaginable scale.

Skyscrapers came crashing down in cities around the world, as the continental plates groaned and twisted. Planes and low orbiting satellites fell from the sky.

Chaos followed quickly upon the sound wave. The desperate prayers of the dying-faithful rose up to greet it.

In security centers around the world the most astute military planners knew what had happened. Nevertheless, they were utterly bewildered by the scope and the magnitude of the devastation.

The level of instantaneous destruction wrought by the eruption was beyond any of their calculations. No one had conceived of the collateral damage to geological and hydrological systems.

Communications were down around the globe. Nuclear reactors were off line and began melting down. Tsunamis were rising in the shallow seas and ocean beds.

It was the end of the world.

It had been over six hundred and forty thousand years since the last massive eruption of the great North American volcano, six hundred and forty thousand years of pressure had been building, and in a moment they were released.

Volcanoes erupted around the world all the time.

The Indonesia volcano nearly wiped out the human race when it erupted 74,000 years ago. It reduced a population of millions to just a few thousand. That volcano, while one of the largest on Earth, was only a tenth the size of the monster in Yellowstone.

When the Yellowstone Caldera blew, the Earth shook, the entire planet felt the rumble. The magnetic poles reversed, the world shifted on its axis and wobbled in its orbit.

The stars, when they became visible again, would never look the same.

None of the scientists, geologists or seismologists, none of them had any idea just how much power would be expelled when the eruption finally came.

None of them had long to contemplate their error.

If they had known they might have tried to do something about it, even in consideration of the risks. They might have tried to ease the pressure from the sleeping giant, but they never had a chance.

Life would certainly reestablish itself. New species would emerge. Some humans would survive, but they would all be changed.

Even still, the planet was doomed, its orbit was altered, and that alone spelled the end of the line for Earth, it would lose its natural satellite, drift away from the “goldilocks zone, and go crashing into the sun.”

Ash shot into the stratosphere and fell back to the ground, burying North America in poisonous dust. Clouds of fine particles and streams of deadly gases blanketed the entire world, blocking all light from the sun.

Within days nearly every living creature on the face of the earth was dead. Those that survived were the most determined. There were many who had readied for some kind of doomsday; preparing for nuclear war, an alien invasion, a zombie apocalypse, but not this.

A majority of those survivalists either died in the preliminary blast, or the subsequent correlated upheavals and the chaos that ensued. Many died trying to reach their secret bunkers while roads became impassable, they were buried in the fallout.

Nevertheless, despite the challenges some did make it.

Many survivalists had already sequestered themselves in the hidden enclaves, of their secret compounds. Some of them worked together.

For them, their stores of food needed to last years beyond the decades they had planned for. It would take that long for the sun to reappear, longer still for farming to be possible.

Human beings quickly became their own worst enemy.

It had happened before.

Outsiders became foodstuff.

Cannibalism set in, as it always did, and quickly as in previous times of crises.

It was, once again, the end of civilization.

The human race had faced this before, it was difficult, nearly impossible, but they had an Observer helping them in the past, they had Jim, and they made it through.

This time there would be no rescue, no wisdom from beyond, no help of any kind.

Volcanic eruptions of this magnitude were the prime movers of planetary evolution. Even the oceans were not immune from the fallout. All organic matter on the surface of Earth perished, becoming just another layer of clay. An event like this was a crucible, even more so in the present time than it had been in the past.

What was taking place in this iteration of the evolutionary cycle was something brand new. The biological evolution would take place as it had hundreds of times before in the history of the planet. In this cycle, however, a cognitive evolution was taking place at the same time, an evolution of the group consciousness, it was a designed evolution, it had been carefully planned by Jim, over the past seventy thousand years.

It meant that the human being who survived would have transcended into a brand new type of being.

It would take thousands of years for rescue teams from the Empire to reach them and bring them into the fold. The coming of humanity would change the Imperium forever.

Half of the world’s population perished within days of the blast, most of the rest in the weeks, and months that followed. By the end of the year, without intervention, the number of human being living on Earth would be down to a few thousand, or less.

Every species was affected; mammal, reptile, avian, insect. Those living on land were hurt the worst. There was widespread extinction. Entire ecosystems were just gone. Only nature’s apex survivors would continue without a significant disturbance of their place in the world: the crocodile, the turtle and the frog.

Coastal areas provided recourse for the survivors. There were fish, there was water, there was mobility and there was power. But it would take decades before the poisons were filtered from the atmosphere, all mammalian life would change as a result, but life would endure on the other side of the catastrophe.

Birth is concrescence, the coalescence of matter organizing itself into a unique form. Birth is the quest of consciousness, the cognizant being emerging independent and alone, ready to observe the universe as an individuated node of self-hood, as an organ of synthesis.

Each instance of birth is the beginning of a series of reflections made by the universe, on itself, for itself.

The relative length of these reflections is not germane; the only thing that matters is that they are made.

The bare witness is enough.

Not all life is capable of making these reflections, the convention of most humans was to inquire only so far as was necessary to provide themselves with the means of personal satisfaction.

Most life in the universe is silent, vegetative, passive; algae and fungus, plankton, and moss, grasses, and trees, bacteria and the ubiquitous virus, these life forms are most prevalent than any other. They mark a certain-narrow range of activity taking place in their environment, on their individual planets, orbiting their individual stars.

The animated life of the fish and insect, of the reptile and the avian, of the mammal, these life forms are rare. As animated beings they see and do more, feel more than the vegetation they consume as food, but, until the discovery of Earth, there was only one world in the entire galaxy where it was known for life to have evolved into sapient creature, into creatures that learned to see beyond themselves, projecting images of themselves, of their hopes and fears and possible futures into the great beyond.

The Ancient People, who constructed the Continuum were the first, and until their colonists reached Earth, they had believed they were the only one.

The human, homo sapient sapient; like every other organic being, is beset with the inherent biases of the animal brain.

The glands of the brain pump chemicals into the liquid consciousness of its neural net. Strong emotions are generated here.

We are awash in them.

The animal brain is fearful. It is concerned with the most basic things; pleasure, pain, anger, fear. It is inherently suspicious, having risen out of the world where the law of life is eat or be eaten. It wants to regard every other creature as either a threat, as food or as something to be exploited.

These tendencies rule the creature, and the search for safety.

This is not to say that human beings, and other creatures are not capable of learning trust, they can and they do, but trust is a learned behavior.

The tendency to see every other being in oppositional terms is never completely erased. Otherness, alienation, these feelings are in constant tension with the supernal drives that are necessary to advance a culture.

The rudiments of language are warnings, barks and whistle, sirens and alarms that link directly into the limbic system: fight or flight, wait and watch.

In times of plenty these feelings become less pronounced, they become easier to set aside.

In times of scarcity they rise immediately into the control centers of the brain, and generations of cultural conditioning that had mitigated those responses can be erased in moments.

Even the human being, even the homo sapient sapient, the animal with the most advanced neural net, even that creature will quickly fall into extremes of genocidal killing and cannibalism, when scarcity and fear, starvation and war, or other threatening circumstances come to dominate human consciousness.

This is true whether the threat is real, or simply imagined.

There is a brief period of time for every mammal, when they are in the warmth and dark of the womb, a short time when they are one with another being, their mother. It is a time of total dependency. Two hearts beating in the same body, sharing the same flow of blood, the same oxygen, their nervous systems linked, they are in a state of complete cynergy.

The father contributes a piece of the code for the formation of the new being, but that is it, the father merely influences the design.

The mother gives the child everything, a body. This does not end at birth.

The child travels with the mother in the warmth and dark of the womb for nine month, through its genesis, formation and growth.

It learns the low tone of the mother’s voice, her rhythm of speaking, of moving of singing, the drum beat of her heart.

The newborn infant takes all of its sustenance, either from the mother’s breast, or from the mother’s hand in the ultimate form of belonging to another.

The child travels with her everywhere, or desires to. There is no place safer, no greater feeling of security than to be placed against her flesh, in the blanket of her scent, to feel her voice resonate through the body.

Everyone else in the world is an alien, potentially hostile, a threat…except for the mother, and there is no one more frightening than the father: stranger, protector, arbiter of conflict; a father is the first person the child seeks to bond with after separating from the mother.

But the father is, more often than not, stern and foreboding.
For most tribes of early humans, as they migrated across the planet the father was the ultimate authority, holding the power of life and death over his family and able to exercise it any time. There were few checks, and no balances.

The child seeks to bond with, to understand, to contend with, and to please him.

In times when the actual father is not present, the child will find a surrogate and seek adoption.

The way in which the relationship develops between the child and father determines virtually everything about who the child will become in the eyes of the world.

The father imparts the public persona to the child, and the child carries that persona, like it does the fathers name, throughout its life in the world.

Good or bad, present or absent, the influence of the father is imparted to the child like an indelible mark. Everything the father does or does not do matters. Active or passive, present or absent, the role the father plays in the child’s life shapes them. None of the father’s words, none of his gestures, not a single touch or glace occurs in a vacuum. The child absorbs it all. Everything done and left undone is determinative of who the child will become, and the esteem they will experience in the world. We are each of us a reflection of the image the father projects on us, not a perfect facsimile but a living representation of the intentions and wishes of the patriarch.

After the mother and father, our sisters and brothers are the first people with whom s child shares a common bond, and with whom we compete. We identify with our siblings, discover betrayal through them, experience them as a threat and learn from them both how to love and how to forgive.

The human capacity for empathy is refined through our relationships with our siblings. Having first learned to love them, we are able to extend that compassion to others.

If however, we learn to hate them, be jealous of them, covet their place in the world, then by extension we are able to project those same feelings onto anyone.

Human history is replete with the stories of siblings, on the one hand accomplishing great things together, while on the other allowing their rivalries to destroy them:

Cain slew able, he killed him with a stone.

Romulus killed Remus, he cast his brother from the walls of Rome, breaking his body on the rocks below, a blood-sacrifice for the eternal city at both its historical and literal foundations.

The duplicity of the human beings, our duality, our capacity for selflessness and self-centeredness are demonstrated in these relationships more poignantly than in any other.

A brother or sister will at one moment put their lives at risk to protect their sibling from harm or even the specter of harm, and in another moment plot to take their life and destroy their extended family.

The sibling bond is the strongest of all bonds, apart from the bond the child has with its mother. When the tension is so great that it breaks, the resulting backlash has the potential to scar everyone who is near it.

It is no small thing to reprogram the animal brain, to take the essentially selfish organism and transform it into something new. Suspicious creatures become altruistic only by learning and through experience, through the bonding of the senses and by neural linguistic programming, by ritual and narrative. The first stage is complete when the individual person comes to see the family as an extension of the self, when they see that their well-being, that their fate is tied to the fate and the well-being of others, both in this life and the next.

The brain is an evolving structure. It mutates, both over the course of the life of the individual and by procreation, from generation to generation. Most of the mutations are not visible or even noticeably structural. They are packed into the dense tissues of the neural network in the brain.

With every new experience a new thread is spun, a thread as thin as a sequence of proteins, and with that advent the organ of the brain is changed, at the same time the genetic code within the cell is rewritten, peptides and amino acid redraft the genetic sequence, and the endowment is passed on to succeeding generations, it is an ever growing inheritance.

The greatest periods of growth and change are infancy and childhood. When every sound and sight, every smell and touch, every taste is actively changing the nascent being, especially at this time when they are learning the language of its family and tribe.

The human being will begin to see the wellness of the family and tribe as coming into alignment with their own, eventually becoming identical to it, without regard for the hurts and minor competitions that ensued while growing-up together.

The other becomes one, when this has occurred we will protect those closest to us with a ferocity equal to our own drive for safety; the other has become a recognizable part of who we are, indistinguishable from us.

Blood and family, they bind us, they may confine us, but they may also set us free.

As we become self-aware we also become “other-aware.” We struggle with the full array of human emotions in the process. We feel the flood of neuro-chemicals and learn to control the mechanae which regulate them. The most significant among them being fear.

Fear is lodged deep within the limbic system, in the far reaches of the “reptilian” brain, in the spine and the neural network stretching out from it, into our extremities; fear is the great divider, all of our limitations are founded in it.

We come into the knowledge of self, fearing any and all others, seeing them first as dangerous, as threatening. Every other person we encounter, accept the mother who gave birth to us, the mother who anchors us through our memory of the womb, every other person is a potential adversary, is an actual adversary until we learn to see them in another light

Every person has a different learning curve, a unique capacity for the details of their experience which they remember, recall and contextualize.

The acquisition of language gives us a taxonomy, the linguistic tools to understand these differentiations: self, mother, father self, brother, sister, self…it is a code that grows and continues to grow throughout our lives. This is open ended: self, uncle, aunt, self, cousin, self, offspring, self, niece, nephew, self, spouse, self, friend, self…etc.

It is through kinship, by relating to those whom we believe share our deepest interests that we are able to learn to see strangers as other-selves, even our adversaries.

There are language games, there is neuro-linguistic programming in every culture that can force these issues into our comprehension. They combine words and actions, feelings of mystery through rituals of shame, fear and empowerment, repetitions that break down barriers, moving a person rapidly through every stage of acceptance in regard to another.

Religion and ritual, military service and shared suffering are among the most effective tools. By passing through these stages a person become fully realized and in possession of their true self.

The care of a loving family is like the wet clinging mesh of a spider’s web. Humans are trapped in it, suspended, enwrapped in it. The majority of people who have ever lived, never lived a day apart from these sticky-bonds, they could not even imagine transcending them.

Familial obligations are invisible. We are bound by them through our emotions; by fear and love, hate and pride, anger, hope and jealousy, the feelings that bind us to our parents, our siblings and our clans are like the ligaments that join bones to muscles.

We are conditioned by rituals; by the stories we tell, the drums we play, by music and language, by the seasons we live and the hours of the day. They are the food that nourishes our identity. We are raised in patterns that play themselves out, in cycles that are both small cycles and great.

Everything we are comes from the family, everything we do redounds to the family name, the name of our clan, our tribe, our village and our state.

Our identities are completely enmeshed with the identity of the group we are raised in, this is the basic paradox of the human identity, which demands the recognition of its individuality while at the same time clinging to the group within which the human being is formed. Only the most profound betrayal can break the patterns we are conditioned to live by, and even then, those who break free from their familial identity, or through no choice of their own are exiled and then cast-out, they leave the family crèche only to recreate the same structures in new places with new people.

The individual can be raised up, lifted high, made strong by their family and tribe. They can also be shunted, marginalized, and cast aside.

Families have a tendency to cannibalize their strength. In times of great need they will go so far as to eat their own, or set up the strongest and most beautiful as holy victims for the gods they worship, to barter their best and brightest away in the hope that they might receive some kind of boon.

As families become clans the bonds of loyalty are fixed in the body, constructed by chemicals and enzymes, by proteins and amino acids, by the songs and rhythms unique to each group, through which they reinforce the knowledge of their history, their ancestral memories, passing them on from one generation to the next.

These are bonds that we do not see, bonds we never question.

Rituals are developed to lift up and memorialize the common ancestors whose great deeds, or terrible failures were such that the clans wrote songs and poetry about them, passed their epics on to their children, and their children’s children, as the sagas of their kin.

Every person reared within the group learned to see themselves as a continuation of the clan’s broader narrative. They saw their own deeds as a reflection of the deeds of their shared ancestry, imagining their departed dead as living beside them, all around them, and they were not wrong.

The departed spoke to them through ancestral memory, not just the patterns of their consciousness remaining with the clans and tribes, but their actual consciousness remaining with individual families, bound to them and the planet in the electromagnetic field called the nous sphere.

The ritual remembering, the songs they sang, the drums they beat, these reinforced the connection and secured it, keeping it vital through that period when the groupings of human beings were still small enough that every person could trace their connection to one another through their blood lines.

They were migrating and wandering, they were navigating by the stars. They marked their narratives by the movement of the constellations, projecting their own stories into the heavens.

They were together and they were one.

Every individual saw themselves as a part of the tribe, and saw the fullness of the tribe as manifested in them. The clan was the clearest representation of the structure of human unity and belonging. It had a sufficient critical mass to draw the individual outside of themselves, and yet it was not large enough for the individual to feel lost within it. The clan was the family writ large, it was small enough to be intimate and large enough to provide for the safety of the group through the structures they form.

Hierarchies emerge in village life, just as they do everywhere in the animal world.

Human beings are animals after all, and in their need to establish social structures they are no different from the wolf or the lion, or the ram.

Competition for leadership in the animal world it could be dangerous, even deadly. It was intense, largely physical and the strongest usually won.

Among humans the intensity was no less dramatic, but it was often more deadly, and physical strength was not the most significant indicator of primacy.

Social hierarchies formed in villages; in the first place they formed around the well, at the markets, in places of worship and religious life, and most importantly in the seat judgment. The center is everything, with social rank flowing from it in concentric rings.

A person was either in or out of the village, either in or out of the center, with movement and access regulated between the spheres.

The beginning of cohesion around village life was the beginning of the disintegration of families, clans, and tribes. The social order underwent change, metamorphosis, redefining allegiances. These developments were not uniform, it did not happen in all places at once. It happened in key places: at the confluence of rivers, along the shores of the great inland lakes, in the desert oasis, at any place where the movements of migratory tribes would bring them together.

The villages were rising.

There was safety in the tribe, and the ability to test one’s self through competition with one’s peers. There was jealousy, yes, and envy. There were customs and taboos that were well established, which intended to prevent such things from having a harmful impact on the life of the group and its cohesion. There were shared customs and stories, rituals, things that shaped both the structure of the tribe and its future. The narratives they spun taught all of the tribes members the means by which they could advance, redress wrongs, recover from injury, hold fast to their position.

Tribal life was essentially democratic, members of the tribe could come and go as they pleased. There were no laws to bind them. There was only duty, obligation and the expectation that those who were dependent on others would be taken care of.

It was only when the migrations ended and the tribes became fixed in villages and hamlets that the notion that people could be treated like property advanced and class systems became entrenched.

During the time of migrations men and women were essentially equal, neither was the property of the other, the concept of ownership was alien and everyone had a say in the destiny of the group.

The tribe might be governed by a chief, there could be a de facto leader, especially in times of conflict. That person was more often than not merely the voice of the people, the arbiter, the mediator, the negotiator and judge.

In place of the single leader, more often than not, a council of elders held sway over the life of the tribe. The tribe did what it could to give every person a voice.

Then there were the others, outsiders, aliens and strangers.

Encampments became villages and villages became towns. The human communities were growing, coming into greater contact with one another, realigning themselves both through necessity and by choice.

Towns grew into cities while people migrated into urban centers for trade and work. Individuals pulled away from their families, from their clans and tribes, and at the same time they pulled themselves into new relationships with merchants and farmers, with herders of new and different breeds of animals.

They clung together in ever greater numbers, both for protection, and opportunity. Learning from each other new ways of life, alien rituals and practices that each group had developed around their totem animals, their symbiotes, these began to be synthesized, re-contextualized for the purpose of enlarging the group.

In the earliest days of this period, the period of encounter the other and the stranger were honored, they were held in esteem for the strengths they brought to new society.

The people discovered farming, they built granaries and the foundations of the city flowed from there, from wellsprings to ziggurats.

Granaries became temples, where the people prayed for and received their daily allotment of food, grain and seed to feed themselves and their families. Temples became fortresses where they stored the fruit of their labor up against times of conflict, drought, disease and famine.

The temples became towers that touched the sky, from which the sages plotted the movement of stars across the heavens. These became the seat of priestly-royalty, and the place from which the laws flowed which bound human beings to their caste, class and station.

Families dispersed, becoming ever less important.

The division of labor ensued.

What became paramount were the relationship the individual had to neighbors and teachers, to systems of patronage and clientage. The individual had the potential to become both everything and nothing, a god-like figure or a slave, to be named in the annals, recalled and remembered, to be lifted in song about or to be utterly forgotten, becoming just dust, nothing at all.

Most of the people, the vast majority, nearly all went unremembered, but they did not disappear.

The cities gathered towns and villages to themselves, expanding and absorbing them, pulling their people away from their homes, relocating them in the urban centers. Cities did this just as clans and tribes had done with families and kin in past ages.

The bonds that were formed in the cities were weaker than family bonds.

Individually these binds were weak and flimsy, but like the spokes of wheel, together they supported a structure of great strength, capable of extraordinary movement, both radiating from the center and supporting the outer frame.

In the urban core social power concentrated itself in the hands of the few, the elite and the strong, the wealthy and the cunning.

The poor and the newly arrived, if they were free citizens, they needed representation.

The majority of those living in the urban centers were enslaved, either owned as private property or they were the property of the state, its institutions and its temples, they belonged to the war machine that kept the state alive.

The free people needed sponsorship, the poor enjoined relationships with the rich, they became clients to their patrons, and these new bonds became formalized into extra-familial systems of societal structure.

This was a new version of a family, the famiglia only loosely related to blood ties. Inter marriage and progeny strengthened these bonds, but they were not required. These were the ancient bonds of vassalage. They were bonds of the imagination, and bonds of determination. They were bonds of circumstance and will, not happenstance or hereditary accident. These bonds were forged by choices.

Cities became states and in the cauldrons of statehood the relationships between all things and beings were redefined and refined.

Common language, common custom, rituals and religion all conspired to tie people together, just as the connective tissues of the body sew the limbs of the body together in the joints.

Shared experiences are the sinews of human culture. There are extrinsic and intrinsic movements with the ritual framework. Well executed rituals engage all of the senses. The best rituals go beyond the physical structure of the world and join the participants to one another through the inner sanctum of their memory, recalling the ancestral rhythms that move them.

When a ritual is serving its purpose it points the individual to a place beyond themselves, and creates in that person the sense that they are being pulled, drawn or called in that direction.

Proper ritual juxtaposes the past and the future, it holds the ancestral memory in tension with future expectations. When the rites are well executed it creates a space in which the whole community is moved by contact with the cynergenic field. They enter the nous sphere, in a state of transcendence they and become one.

These are the essential building blocks of group identity and with their perfection came the ability to pull all the disparate parts of human culture together. Nations were formed out of states, building on the foundations of security and prosperity for the people, as the old allegiances of family, tribe and clan were shifting ever-outward, away from people, into the world of ideas.

The fundamental buildings blocks of human identity were changing. National identity transcended the sense of self as a member of a family, and even as individuals.

Families that once banded together in small sheltered spaces, in a clearing in the trees, forming small groups that clung to one another for safety, establishing camps close to the springs that fed the clear streams which provided them with the clean water they needed for life, and nourishment, building their fires, burning bright in the night to ward off predators, smoking fish, birds and rabbits, feeding off of any other type of meat that could be taken down with the shafts of their javelins and atlatls, their spears and stones and arrows.

The people had returned to the primordial life, and this condition was universal.

The built small shelters in and around the trees, only moving when they had depleted the resources in the forests that surrounded them.

Everything was temporary.

When they had burned all of the fuel, eaten all of the nuts and berries, gathered all the wild onions and mushrooms and cleared the region of the living creatures they feasted on, then they would move.

Through their story telling they developed the ethos that the migratory life was the path that nature had intended for them. It was the life of the natural person, it was peaceful and well ordered, providing the tribal-bands with everything they needed from season to season.

Generations after the volcanic explosion, when the sky finally cleared and the azure-deep returned to the day, when the stars were once again visible at night, the families and tribes left the security of the forests, foregoing the great green canopies that had been their shelter.

They navigated by starlight, looking across the desserts and plains, over the tall grasses and steep dunes; they took to them, exposing themselves in the open.

They came to worship the sky both in its brilliant-blue and in its angry-gray, the sky was open to their imagination, wide and welcoming and yet oppressing at the same time. Its clouds gave them relief from the burning sun and covered them like a blanket in the cold night. It brought the rain, which meant life, and it brought the judgement of the lightning bolt.

There were dangers lurking everywhere in the open spaces. The plains were a place of constant threat, both from great beasts and from other tribes.

On the plains there was also freedom of movement and the joy of wandering, which was something that called to them, pushing them outward like an existential imperative.

Survival in the open required constant vigilance, a discipline that was not as great as the life they had lived, in the comfort of the forests and the woodland caves.

They marked their journey with the stars and navigated from place to place by following the brightest beacons shining in the Milky Way. They migrated with the herds and flocks, following them, hunting them, gathering the grains and sweet grasses of the field to add to their feasts.

They accepted the dangers they faced as a free people, as a people without care. They clung together for safety or in time of need, and separated from one another to pursue their own paths, only to return in their migrations to the appointed meeting places, at determined times, following the seasons and the voice of the wind, or the movements of the moon and planets.

It was a time of abundance, the tribes were growing, becoming stronger, relearning their ancient ways. They wandered the open plains, crossed the broad savannahs, invaded the wide deserts and took to the greening fields.

They climbed to the tops of hills, drawn closer to the stars from which they came, and counted them, piling stones atop of one another, fitting them neatly together, building their homes with a wide view of their surroundings. Human beings were looking upward and outward in search of their memories, recalling unconsciously the sojourn of their ancient ancestors from the starry field. They rested on the hill-tops, beneath the stars and sun, at the feet of mountains, beside their waterfalls and streams.

As they listened to the sound of the wind through the rocks and grasses, the rhythm of their music changed, and the stories they told took on a new character, they were safe on the hilltops beneath the open skies.

The tribes organized themselves in new ways, in vertical hierarchies, in accordance with the physical structure of their encampments. Their migrations took them from hill top to hill top, hunting and gathering the riches of the fields.

They gathered the herds and flocks to themselves: as shepherds and cowherds and goatherds, and herders of every kind. Every tribe developed its own way of life with the animals they tended.

They domesticated the wolf and walked beside the bear as an equal.

They lived with them, led them to water, protected them against all the dangers of the wild. Their animals became sacred to them, as totems of the tribes spiritual power. They gave milk and meat, hides and wool, the totem animal gave everything to the tribes, and the tribes learned to see themselves as extended through the life of the herd.

They lived as symbiotes together; the goat people and the sheep people, the cow people and the horse people. They led the herds into the mountains and scaled the lofty peaks, looking for new pastures and passes and crossings to other worlds.

They found themselves in the highest places, the sacred places in the thin air at the top of the world. They strode across the icy glaciers, building fires in the snow. They learned through the collective experience that there was no place on Earth where they could not go.

Only the sky was their limit and the depths of the sea, they dreamed of sprouting wings, they dreamed of flying from the mountain tops, of reaching out to the touch the sun and stars, recalling the sojourn of their forbears in theirs myths and songs.

The tribes were always moving, always looking for new places, wandering beneath the stars, moving with the seasons, staying ahead of the weather, moving with the currents of the wind.

They followed the rivers to their source, up the winding streams, tracking down every branch. They followed them to the clear springs from which the water flowed, bubbling-up from the deep reservoirs within the earth.

They followed the flowing water back down their channels, tracking down each curve and bend as they widened into creeks and rivulets, becoming streams that flowed into rivers and they followed the rivers to the lakes they fed, they camped along those shorelines, fishing, and bathing in sun. They followed the churning waters, past their waterfalls and their rapids, following them to the place where they merged with inland seas and outward to the oceans.

They founded settlements along the way. From springs and head waters, to the point of each confluence, they made their encampments. They left the markers of their tribes; tokens, totems and burial mounds as they wandered, returning to them in their cycles with the seasons.

Every spring was the birth place of a god, of gods and goddesses emerging from the earth like children from the womb. Water was sacred to the ancient humans, every brook was imbued with inherent spiritual power and there were grave penalties in tribal justice for defiling the living streams.

From mountain springs to the delta flow, the rivers were the first markers of a tribe’s territory. The confluence of water-ways marked the coming together of tribal alliances, or, alternately, they became the sources of tribal conflict.

The foot paths in the forests were serene and stable. The people traversed them in safety and seclusion, hidden by the trees and brush. They crossed into the open prairie, the broad meadows, the open deserts and the snowy fields.

The paths they laid down were narrow, and shifting. The tribes traversed them in long lines, marching single file, laying down the course for those that followed.

The wind erased the trails they made in sand and snow.

The grasses and the wild flowers sprang back in their wake.

The streams and rivers were the markers of lanes that could be followed from one way-point to the next.

They came to the great lakes, the seas and oceans, their broad shorelines became the first highways for human migration. They trekked across them herding their flocks at the border of the deep.

The way was easy by the coast, beneath the stars, following the water’s edge from camp to camp. They pitched their tents in the places where the rivers met the sea. Where the fresh water flowed into the salty brine.

The surface of the Earth was slowly repopulated, and the existential dread that had gripped the human race during the decades of darkness had eased. They were growing in numbers, in strength and pride and in esteem.

On thin strips of wood, in fragile dugout canoes, they hurled their bodies onto the rivers and lakes. They threw themselves into the ocean-seas, just as their ancient forebears had done when they crossed the stars.

They were looking for new ways of life, a life among the waves and currents and tides, a life on the undulating surface of the water. They were searching for mysteries in the deep, beneath the water’s ever changing face. They lived on their little skiffs, casting spears and nets and lines with hooks into the water from which they drew their catch.

They spent their days on the water beneath the sun, paddling to and from the shore, diving into the shallows to gather, clams, oysters and muscles.

Many were swept away in the accidental crossing of storms.

Some perished.

Others clung to their tiny crafts and rafts, and found their way to other shores, thousands of miles from home.

They spent their nights under the flowing milky light of the stars.

The stars sang to them, each glowing orb with a voice its own, as they imagined the galaxy, every bright light suspended in black liquid, soaring through the ether in the resonating waves of their transcendent dreams.
Emergence 5.0

Part Four – Earth

A Novel in Twelve Parts

#Emergence #ShortFiction #12MonthsOfSciFi

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Emergence 4.0 – Part Four, Kathy; Chapters Twenty-two through Twenty-eight

Chapter Twenty-two, Childhood

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 forces that were always active in her consciousness. She was aware of the living presence of all of the other human beings around her, every single one.

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 on her 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, of humanity, of actual people who were long dead and yet persisting in the cynergenic field of Earth.

The imprint 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.

There were hidden places within her, deep places she would spend years discovering. This was not unique to Kathy, but she was uniquely able to access all the remote regions of her sub-conscious and unconscious mind, the deep dark well of her being.

There were 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 the collective past, the stories that still lingered in the popular consciousness of her contemporaries, she peeled away the myths, the lies and the propaganda.

She discovered the bare stories, the prime narrative behind the world’s 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 learned.

She chose from among the people and figures of her memories, friends, caring people who could guide her through the processes of managing the incredible deluge that she was awash in.

Her internal mentors were not just figures from her ancestral past, they also had an active, conscious presence in the cynergenic field.

She chose protectors, good people, teachers, those were had experiences in life that were similar to her own.

Kathy’s memories came to her unbidden.

Memories populated her consciousness, suggesting themselves for her consideration, to frame her understanding of the events she was experiencing in real time.

In remembering she experienced a dialog with the ancestors within her, deciphering events, answering questions in an instant.

It was an atavistic process, happening faster than light speed, happening 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.

This was always augmented by input from the psychic entities, the ghosts and spirits that hovered around her, the ancestors, all of the departed dead, the collective consciousness of humanity, past and present.

She was in constant dialog with them.

Kathy 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, 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, 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 for any length of time.

Searching for a new experience, would cause her mind to construct in advance, ideas of what she would find. The closer she got to her goal, the closer her image of what she looking for became an image of expectation, and 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 them approaching, 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.

Kathy had to practice mindfulness at every moment, simply to keep her grounded and in the present. Learning this was the ultimate discipline, and 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 unbidden. 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 things.

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 dead 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, merging with them, 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 was without measure.

The opportunity to work with her was considered the greatest privilege in the scientific community, she 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 what you were working on was of the highest value.

It was prehension, Kathy’s intuitive comprehension came from a place within the mysteries of the atom, within 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 the concrescence of insight.

Her mind represented the fulcrum of all humanity, she was the full realization of its potential, and not just of humanity, 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 also prepared her over thousands of lifetimes, 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 the collective consciousness of humanity, to draw what she needed from it at will.

Kathy would be to Earth’s organic collective what the Continuum was to the Collective on the HomeWorld.

Kathy played music and she loved it.

For Kathy, there was nothing more freeing than being lost in cloud of rhythm and melody, expressing her deepest feelings. 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 them, unlike the mastery of ideas, did not require dialog with the ancestors within her, they were there of course, but in music their presence was non-verbal.

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, her brushes, bows, sticks, picks and tongue.

Kathy was the living repository of all human knowledge.

It was an incredible burden.

She shunned it, but in music she found this 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.

They were present to her in the music she listened to and played as well, but in music she felt more as if she was coming home to them, rather than the voices inside of her reaching out to her.

Music was a homecoming to a place where there were no expectations.

Chapter Twenty-three, Prodigy

Kathy loved jokes. Humor was a relief to her and she was a funny 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.

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, knowing, 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. She delighted in them in her infancy. The 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 understood and 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, it was 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, she had to keep it in check.

The laughing person is vulnerable, and Kathy had to learn to hide that vulnerability, withdrawing inside herself, to share her mirth with her ancestors only, and the other ghosts lingering in the outer-world.

Kathy was as quiet as she was observant. She learned to watch and ask questions of the voices within her.

It was better this way, for her it was better.

She also 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.

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 delighted by.

She was a strange child.

Her introspection was so extreme that in those 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.

She was 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 to her parents. 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, nearly 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.

This was not the helpless rage of an infant wailing.

It 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, she developed dexterity, and coordination.

By her first birthday she was dancing.

Kathy practiced and practiced in the quiet moments of her day.

At night, in the dark, while her parents slept.

She did not speak a word until she was speaking in complete sentences. Her vocal muscles were the most difficult to master.

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, they required a much greater level of discipline and measures of time to control.

The direction for her exercises came from deep within herself. From her ancestors, and from her intimate link to the cynergenic field.

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, the full scope of human knowledge was accessible to her. 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, and then she had to slow everything down, to allow her body time to make the adjustments she was preparing it for.

It was excruciating, 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.

She took pride in her accomplishments, they were a source of great esteem.

Kathy could shut the outside world off and retreat into the recesses of her interior life, But she could not escape from the voices within, they were always with her. She might ignore them for a time, but she could not depart from them, and even if she died, she knew that she would remain with them, as with all people, a shadow of herself imprinted on the cynergenic field.

Kathy followed the path of discipline, to protect herself from the world and from what was inside her, both.

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.

Nevertheless she was still a child, she had ordinary instincts, she wanted 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 had to learn, to 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.

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. 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 could 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 class with her, did not like her, they did not like the way she looked at them, or the way she looked through them.

They knew intuitively that she was beyond them

She was alien.

Kathy was unique.

She felt other.

She was different from every human being on the planet, different from all who had ever been.

She embodied the full scope of human potential and its actual realization in time.

She was unique in all the universe, she was born that way.

She was still young when she realized the differences that distinguished her from everyone else she had ever met. She had known empirically that this was the case. 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, in Earth’s cynergenic field. Nevertheless, Kathy succumbed to a basic human tendency, which was to assume 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 from her, or to 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.

Chapter Twenty-four, Adolescence
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, who were always seeking to intrude on her thoughts.

Kathy understood the things she was going through, 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 regularly did this, 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, in public, in social settings. She carried herself with confidence and intentionality. As a small child Kathy always acted with poise and purpose. This unnerved her parents, but as she grew older they came to rely on it, believing that it 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 unusual. Most people were delighted in the strange unusually confident child.

A few, those who were more observant, they were disturbed by it.

Kathy was beset by fears, not just for herself, but for her parents as well. The poise that she exuded was just a mask. She could keep it up for hours, even days if needed, but it was a ploy to hide the raging doubt inside of her.

As she matured, when in public she 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 grew silent.

She searched the cynergenic field for someone who could help her, and again there was nothing, or next to nothing.

There was only a vague impression of a teacher, a priest, a shaman, a person who had guided her ancestors in the distant past, but they were not present to her 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.

The moved over and over 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.

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 her teachers.

She mocked them without mercy, she ridiculed them, she alienated everyone who came in contact with her.

She had no place of belonging.

She used her gifts to reveal their greatest insecurities and she exploited them, her intentions were not to profit from them, but merely 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.

She isolated herself. She took refuge in music, in movies, in 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. She allowed 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.

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, 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.

She found peace in meditations that took her outside of her body.

With an ability that no human being ever had before, she entered 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 with those 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 united, in spite of her feeling of alienation she learned to adjust to this reality.

They were one.

Understanding her essential humanity gave her a great feeling of esteem.

Kathy spent the energy of youth learning to master her thoughts and feelings, just so that she could get along in the world

She needed a place to escape.

Kathy found escape in the real world. The circle had become complete. The past, she found, could be more oppressive than the present,

She discovered the supreme distraction in the passions of her body.

In self-pleasure, and sexual coupling she was able to forget herself, forget the world around her in the uncritical-careless delights of sexual gratification.

She lost herself in the attraction she felt for beautiful people, in the present moment, in the desires that were most immediate to her senses.

She could linger for hours, in the scent and taste of a lover.

Physical love was timeless. It concentrated all her attention in the now.

The present moment was everything, she became lost in it.

Kathy found momentary peace, she found a temporary release and she found 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.

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 as if she had arrived at the peak of the human experience and stepped 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 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 she 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, there was the danger that Kathy would drag them into that space, and they would disappear.

Chapter Twenty-five, Abnormal

When Kathy was five years old, instead of beginning kindergarten, Kathy’s parents placed her in private tutelage.

They looked at dozens of schools, public programs, private institutions, schools that were religiously affiliated, and they did not encounter a single program that they felt like they could trust.

In most cases they could tell within seconds or minutes that the administrators saw exposure to Kathy as something they could exploit.

They kept looking.

They 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, that differentiated her from everyone, not just children her age.

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 felt it would warp her, possibly turn her into a guarded and hateful person.

They were 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.

They sought private tutors to help them, professionals under a variety of disciplines.
Every tutor Kathy’s parents brought in to teach her manifested predictable and disturbing patterns.

Tutors, psychologists, scholars; her parents contracted with people inside and outside of the educational system; scientists, doctors, specialists in human behavior.

They exhausted their resources doing it.

Without exception the behaviors and interactions that each of them had with Kathy filled her parents with dread, and Kathy with a cynical unease.

At first they were delighted. Would be welcoming in their initial encounters, and she would tease them with the things they wanted to know.

They would come back to Kathy’s parents at the end of the day, 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 misuse her psychic gifts by exploiting their fears and weaknesses, 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 who they could build a career on.

They tested her, and wrote about her.

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. With that they withdrew.

They 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 were confident her needs would be looked after, she would be nourished and sheltered, they had done what they could.

They gave up.

Kathy was alone now, sequestered.

She was not an orphan, she was just a child with no parents.

She was overwhelming sad at 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. She knew that her parents were preparing to leave her, she understood their motivations.

This made her sad, made her angry, but she understood.

She used her abilities to narrow their choices, and to affirm them

Then she said goodbye to them.

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, gifted youngsters.

They believed it, for the most part, even though they knew the truth, they knew that the home was a front for the National Security Establishment.

They also knew it was safe

It was the safest place they could possibly imagine, but those who had been entrusted to help Kathy, had betrayed her, and to some degree her parents knew it.

Kathy accepted it all, just as they voices within her moved her to do.

Kathy 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.

She studied and took tests, at the same time 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 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.

They held her in high esteem, they were proud of the work they did with her.

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.

They were coerced if they would not come voluntarily.

In the later 20th century 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.

Kathy’s gifts required a completely different understanding of the range of possibilities.

Every aspect of her life was studied in its most minute detail. With the greatest scrutiny being given to her genetic profile.

Her eggs were harvested, and she was cloned.

Kathy was the most significant subject of scientific inquiry that the world knew nothing about.

Kathy’s moods normalized as she grew older, she adjusted to the reality of her differences.

Even though she had always understood, objectively, that she was unique, that she was a different kind of human than had ever walked the earth, she had resisted this.

She did not want to embrace it.

She was not homo sapient sapient, she was homo sapient ancestral, she was 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 self-control.

She quietly disciplined herself to the measures that her ancestors desired her to take, she did this in the 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.

Chapter Twenty-six, Adulthood
Kathy was longing for a place in the world.

As she advanced in her skills and gained control of her powers, Kathy’s 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 lives of anyone she was near.

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 did with ever increasing difficulty.

Kathy felt the artificiality of her life, some days it weighed on her heavily, though when she was busy she hardly noticed.

In her work place, every little detail of her environment was contrived, scripted, 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 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 as they were. She accepted those things and pretended to accept them as genuine.

She was able to maintain that 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.

Kathy became cynical.

As she grew older her cynicism did not cause 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, and 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 to be solved.

They brought her work.

Sundays were Kathy’s only regular time of respite, a day of reflection and a time to lose herself in the past.

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 diligently examined.

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 memory.

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, that is 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 by 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 worked 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 were concerned 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 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 were 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 history continued to move its 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 drive them 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.

Human beings 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, not an opportunity to escape.

The 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, and from which they receive their answers. Everyone who came in contact with her was watched.

The 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.

Kathy received her assignments. She in turn wrote papers giving details and context in response to the questions they submitted. She deciphered code, sometimes 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 with the escalation of 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 hat the American institutions of democratic government, liberal and progressive, was the only hope the world had to lift itself out of the age of conflict.

Like any other human being, she wanted her work to matter.

Chapter Twenty-seven, Isolated

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, it was 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 just 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 in them.

There was no path too remote for her to follow.

She took up the plastic arts, she drew and painted, she sculpted.

She took the time to recreate the visions of her ancestors, and to capture through various media, her own unique experience.

Of all the “normal” things that people occupied themselves with, the ordinary pleasantries and little things that filled up their 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, and making hits. Vocal styles changed, tonal styles changed, the content of lyrics and the popularity of certain instruments changed, but only 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 knowing, 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 told 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 her susceptibility to it 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, 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 auto-hypnotic. She lost herself in the drums and rhythms.

She abandoned time in movement, in the moments flowing from the present to past ages.

She relived the steps of her ancestors, felt their feelings, both their fears and their hopes for the future.

Dance was a place of transcendence.

When she was dancing she was not fully engaged with the present world, the psychic noise and the din of chaos slipped away, the cares of the world disappeared, and she was vulnerable.

Kathy experienced this same phenomenon in many ways, but what made dancing different for Kathy was that while dancing 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.

Dancing was the ultimate expression of who she was, of her uniqueness as a human being.

Kathy danced for the joy of it.

Eating was a necessity, 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 was the lack of control.

Flavors and odors haunted her, they hovered around and clung to her like ghosts.

Taste and smell could transported her instantly to past times and past ages, placing her unbidden,
into a kind fuge, one she should not escape from.

Kathy found solace in the bland, comfort in modern processed foods, foods that were completely new and entirely foreign to human experience.

She did not want to mix anything in a bowl, stir something in a pot, engage in knife work, or 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.

Nevertheless, of all the foods and drinks she imbibed, the most pleasing thing to her was coffee.

After years of working with Kathy, her handlers came to an appreciation of how dangerous it could be to interact with her directly regarding the nations secrets.

She could penetrate the minds of anyone who came in contact with her. This happened without effort in regard to those who near to 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 her belonging.

She was one with humanity as they were with her. The thought comforted her.

Her handlers 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. They represented the efforts her handlers took to allow her to live a semblance of a normal life.

There were some in the security establishment who argued that she should be killed, that she was too dangerous, and 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

Kathy was placed in a small-private college, she did research, and wrote.

She became an academic.

It was a comfortable environment, quaint, aesthetic.

Her work was recognized 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.

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 wanted privacy, and she had no desire to influence people. 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.

She was a recluse.

For Kathy, 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, float 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.

She was increasingly focused on the long range plans to establish a permanent human presence in space, on the moon, and toward the outer planets.

She dreamed of a life out among the stars, in those dreams she encountered a thread that pulled at her consciousness 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.

The apparatus they built around her was an amazing thing to behold.

The National Security interests utilized a revolving network of spies to keep an eye on her. 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, they 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.

Chapter Twenty-eight, Encounter
Week 30, 2019
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 this time 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 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 attuned her to such things, and that was the strangest thing of all.

He left no impression whatsoever.

She began to recognize the man, to see him out of the corner of her eye while she was walking down the street, 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. They could not offer any details on the man.

His presence sat in her consciousness like the weight on a fishing line, it held steady in the water, there was a hook, but she could not discern it.

She could not read him.

She could not recover a sense of him from the cynergenic field.

He was a mystery, and that was enticing.

Kathy went to her mailbox as she did every day, she reached inside always hoping to find some correspondence from her parents, or a teacher that she had been fond of.

She occasionally received 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 at all since they had left her.

Nevertheless, personal mail was rare.

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.

She was excited.

There was a mystery in front of her, 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.

The script was written in an alphabet that no person other than herself could have known, and 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 it, the kind of danger she wanted to run to, not away from.

She was faced with a puzzle like no other she had ever seen.

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, and she 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, she thought it must be a wrong number, but they 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.

She said, “hello.”

The man who spoke to her, spoke in a language that had been dead for millennia, there was no one else even knew this language had existed.

She had no trouble with it and she knew this must be the person who had sent her the letter, the same person who was attempting to wrap her in the cloak of conspiracy, beginning here, with this conversation.

In the conspiracy she felt a sense of belonging.

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 nous-sphere, in 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.

They met at a café Kathy frequented, a busy place. Kathy felt secure in that, and 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 man from her letters.

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 of a mystery.

The myopia within her was tantalizing.

Why this man, of all men, why was it that she could not summon her powers to glean anything about Him?

It was intriguing, it caused her to want to learn more.

It was as if he had been present throughout her entire past, but there was no point of intersection where her genetic line crossed his.

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 through her ancestry, but he wasn’t.

He shared her personal-historical perspective but he was not a part of the same continuum as she.

That 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.

The most significant thing about him was that she could not read his mind.

He was a man like no 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 fathom 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, perhaps another person like herself.

It was not just his knowledge, knowledge was not the right word. He had an intimate familiarity with them, akin to her own familiarity, he knew more than the meanings of characters and symbols, 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, as Kathy was.

In this encounter 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.

All she wanted to do was to be absorbed by him, to lose herself in him, as everyone she had ever been 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 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 it, 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. She felt peace, and comfort.

She felt understood

She was like a child with her father. He was older, wiser. In fact, his age was 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 yet, Kathy wanted to perform for him, show off her skills, to demonstrate her intelligence, to show him that she represented the apex of human potential, something she did not really believe, but that she knew other people believed of her.

His mind was still.

He was utterly opaque.

She knew that he was an ancient person, an alien, an anomaly, and yet nevertheless human, in the full sense of the term.

He was not like her, he was something different, and she loved him without question.
Emergence 4.0
Part Four, Kathy

A Novel – In One Chapter Per Week

#Emergence #ShortFiction #365SciFi #OneChapterPerWeek

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Emergence 4.0 – Part Four, Kathy; Chapter Twenty-eight, Encounter

Week 30, 2019
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 this time 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 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 attuned her to such things, and that was the strangest thing of all.

He left no impression whatsoever.

She began to recognize the man, to see him out of the corner of her eye while she was walking down the street, 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. They could not offer any details on the man.

His presence sat in her consciousness like the weight on a fishing line, it held steady in the water, there was a hook, but she could not discern it.

She could not read him.

She could not recover a sense of him from the cynergenic field.

He was a mystery, and that was enticing.

Kathy went to her mailbox as she did every day, she reached inside always hoping to find some correspondence from her parents, or a teacher that she had been fond of.

She occasionally received 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 at all since they had left her.

Nevertheless, personal mail was rare.

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.

She was excited.

There was a mystery in front of her, 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.

The script was written in an alphabet that no person other than herself could have known, and 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 it, the kind of danger she wanted to run to, not away from.

She was faced with a puzzle like no other she had ever seen.

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, and she 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, she thought it must be a wrong number, but they 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.

She said, “hello.”

The man who spoke to her, spoke in a language that had been dead for millennia, there was no one else even knew this language had existed.

She had no trouble with it and she knew this must be the person who had sent her the letter, the same person who was attempting to wrap her in the cloak of conspiracy, beginning here, with this conversation.

In the conspiracy she felt a sense of belonging.

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 nous-sphere, in 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.

They met at a café Kathy frequented, a busy place. Kathy felt secure in that, and 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 man from her letters.

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 of a mystery.

The myopia within her was tantalizing.

Why this man, of all men, why was it that she could not summon her powers to glean anything about Him?

It was intriguing, it caused her to want to learn more.

It was as if he had been present throughout her entire past, but there was no point of intersection where her genetic line crossed his.

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 through her ancestry, but he wasn’t.

He shared her personal-historical perspective but he was not a part of the same continuum as she.

That 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.

The most significant thing about him was that she could not read his mind.

He was a man like no 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 fathom 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, perhaps another person like herself.

It was not just his knowledge, knowledge was not the right word. He had an intimate familiarity with them, akin to her own familiarity, he knew more than the meanings of characters and symbols, 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, as Kathy was.

In this encounter 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.

All she wanted to do was to be absorbed by him, to lose herself in him, as everyone she had ever been 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 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 it, 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. She felt peace, and comfort.

She felt understood

She was like a child with her father. He was older, wiser. In fact, his age was 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 yet, Kathy wanted to perform for him, show off her skills, to demonstrate her intelligence, to show him that she represented the apex of human potential, something she did not really believe, but that she knew other people believed of her.

His mind was still.

He was utterly opaque.

She knew that he was an ancient person, an alien, an anomaly, and yet nevertheless human, in the full sense of the term.

He was not like her, he was something different, and she loved him without question.
Emergence 4.0
Part Four, Kathy

Chapter Twenty-eight, Encounter

A Novel – In One Chapter Per Week

#Emergence #ShortFiction #365SciFi #OneChapterPerWeek

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Emergence 4.0 – Part Four, Kathy; Chapter Twenty-seven, Isolated

Week 29, 2019
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, it was 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 just 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 in them.

There was no path too remote for her to follow.

She took up the plastic arts, she drew and painted, she sculpted.

She took the time to recreate the visions of her ancestors, and to capture through various media, her own unique experience.

Of all the “normal” things that people occupied themselves with, the ordinary pleasantries and little things that filled up their 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, and making hits. Vocal styles changed, tonal styles changed, the content of lyrics and the popularity of certain instruments changed, but only 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 knowing, 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 told 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 her susceptibility to it 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, 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 auto-hypnotic. She lost herself in the drums and rhythms.

She abandoned time in movement, in the moments flowing from the present to past ages.

She relived the steps of her ancestors, felt their feelings, both their fears and their hopes for the future.

Dance was a place of transcendence.

When she was dancing she was not fully engaged with the present world, the psychic noise and the din of chaos slipped away, the cares of the world disappeared, and she was vulnerable.

Kathy experienced this same phenomenon in many ways, but what made dancing different for Kathy was that while dancing 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.

Dancing was the ultimate expression of who she was, of her uniqueness as a human being.

Kathy danced for the joy of it.

Eating was a necessity, 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 was the lack of control.

Flavors and odors haunted her, they hovered around and clung to her like ghosts.

Taste and smell could transported her instantly to past times and past ages, placing her unbidden, into a kind fuge, one she should not escape from.

Kathy found solace in the bland, comfort in modern processed foods, foods that were completely new and entirely foreign to human experience.

She did not want to mix anything in a bowl, stir something in a pot, engage in knife work, or 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.

Nevertheless, of all the foods and drinks she imbibed, the most pleasing thing to her was coffee.

After years of working with Kathy, her handlers came to an appreciation of how dangerous it could be to interact with her directly regarding the nations secrets.

She could penetrate the minds of anyone who came in contact with her. This happened without effort in regard to those who near to 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 her belonging.

She was one with humanity as they were with her. The thought comforted her.

Her handlers 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. They represented the efforts her handlers took to allow her to live a semblance of a normal life.

There were some in the security establishment who argued that she should be killed, that she was too dangerous, and 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

Kathy was placed in a small-private college, she did research, and wrote.

She became an academic.

It was a comfortable environment, quaint, aesthetic.

Her work was recognized 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.

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 wanted privacy, and she had no desire to influence people. 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.

She was a recluse.

For Kathy, 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, float 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.

She was increasingly focused on the long range plans to establish a permanent human presence in space, on the moon, and toward the outer planets.

She dreamed of a life out among the stars, in those dreams she encountered a thread that pulled at her consciousness 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.

The apparatus they built around her was an amazing thing to behold.

The National Security interests utilized a revolving network of spies to keep an eye on her. 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, they 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.
Emergence 4.0
Part Four, Kathy

Chapter Twenty-seven, Isolated

A Novel – In One Chapter Per Week

#Emergence #ShortFiction #365SciFi #OneChapterPerWeek

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Emergence 4.0 – Part Four, Kathy; Chapter Twenty-six, Adulthood

Week 28, 2019
Kathy was longing for a place in the world.

As she advanced in her skills and gained control of her powers, Kathy’s 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 lives of anyone she was near.

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 did with ever increasing difficulty.

Kathy felt the artificiality of her life, some days it weighed on her heavily, though when she was busy she hardly noticed.

In her work place, every little detail of her environment was contrived, scripted, 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 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 as they were. She accepted those things and pretended to accept them as genuine.

She was able to maintain that 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.

Kathy became cynical.

As she grew older her cynicism did not cause 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, and 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 to be solved.

They brought her work.

Sundays were Kathy’s only regular time of respite, a day of reflection and a time to lose herself in the past.

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 diligently examined.

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 memory.

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, that is 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 by 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 worked 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 were concerned 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 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 were 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 history continued to move its 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 drive them 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.

Human beings 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, not an opportunity to escape.

The 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, and from which they receive their answers. Everyone who came in contact with her was watched.

The 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.

Kathy received her assignments. She in turn wrote papers giving details and context in response to the questions they submitted. She deciphered code, sometimes 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 with the escalation of 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 hat the American institutions of democratic government, liberal and progressive, was the only hope the world had to lift itself out of the age of conflict.

Like any other human being, she wanted her work to matter.
Emergence 4.0
Part Four, Kathy

Chapter Twenty-six, Adulthood

A Novel – In One Chapter Per Week

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Emergence 4.0 – Part Four, Kathy; Chapter Twenty-five, Abnormal

Week 27
When Kathy was five years old, instead of beginning kindergarten, Kathy’s parents placed her in private tutelage.

They looked at dozens of schools, public programs, private institutions, schools that were religiously affiliated, and they did not encounter a single program that they felt like they could trust.

In most cases they could tell within seconds or minutes that the administrators saw exposure to Kathy as something they could exploit.

They kept looking.

They 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, that differentiated her from everyone, not just children her age.

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 felt it would warp her, possibly turn her into a guarded and hateful person.

They were 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.

They sought private tutors to help them, professionals under a variety of disciplines.

Every tutor Kathy’s parents brought in to teach her manifested predictable and disturbing patterns.

Tutors, psychologists, scholars; her parents contracted with people inside and outside of the educational system; scientists, doctors, specialists in human behavior.

They exhausted their resources doing it.

Without exception the behaviors and interactions that each of them had with Kathy filled her parents with dread, and Kathy with a cynical unease.

At first they were delighted. Would be welcoming in their initial encounters, and she would tease them with the things they wanted to know.

They would come back to Kathy’s parents at the end of the day, 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 misuse her psychic gifts by exploiting their fears and weaknesses, 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 who they could build a career on.

They tested her, and wrote about her.

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. With that they withdrew.

They 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 were confident her needs would be looked after, she would be nourished and sheltered, they had done what they could.

They gave up.

Kathy was alone now, sequestered.

She was not an orphan, she was just a child with no parents.

She was overwhelming sad at 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. She knew that her parents were preparing to leave her, she understood their motivations.

This made her sad, made her angry, but she understood.

She used her abilities to narrow their choices, and to affirm them

Then she said goodbye to them.

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, gifted youngsters.

They believed it, for the most part, even though they knew the truth, they knew that the home was a front for the National Security Establishment.

They also knew it was safe

It was the safest place they could possibly imagine, but those who had been entrusted to help Kathy, had betrayed her, and to some degree her parents knew it.

Kathy accepted it all, just as they voices within her moved her to do.

Kathy 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.

She studied and took tests, at the same time 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 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.

They held her in high esteem, they were proud of the work they did with her.

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.
They were coerced if they would not come voluntarily.

In the later 20th century 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.

Kathy’s gifts required a completely different understanding of the range of possibilities.

Every aspect of her life was studied in its most minute detail. With the greatest scrutiny being given to her genetic profile.

Her eggs were harvested, and she was cloned.

Kathy was the most significant subject of scientific inquiry that the world knew nothing about.

Kathy’s moods normalized as she grew older, she adjusted to the reality of her differences.

Even though she had always understood, objectively, that she was unique, that she was a different kind of human than had ever walked the earth, she had resisted this.

She did not want to embrace it.

She was not homo sapient sapient, she was homo sapient ancestral, she was 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 self-control.

She quietly disciplined herself to the measures that her ancestors desired her to take, she did this in the 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.
Emergence 4.0

Part Four, Kathy
Chapter Twenty-five, Abnormal

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Emergence 4.0 – Part Four, Kathy; Chapter Twenty-four, Adolescence

Week 26
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, who were always seeking to intrude on her thoughts.

Kathy understood the things she was going through, 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 regularly did this, 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, in public, in social settings. She carried herself with confidence and intentionality. As a small child Kathy always acted with poise and purpose. This unnerved her parents, but as she grew older they came to rely on it, believing that it 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 unusual. Most people were delighted in the strange unusually confident child.

A few, those who were more observant, they were disturbed by it.

Kathy was beset by fears, not just for herself, but for her parents as well. The poise that she exuded was just a mask. She could keep it up for hours, even days if needed, but it was a ploy to hide the raging doubt inside of her.

As she matured, when in public she 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 grew silent.

She searched the cynergenic field for someone who could help her, and again there was nothing, or next to nothing.

There was only a vague impression of a teacher, a priest, a shaman, a person who had guided her ancestors in the distant past, but they were not present to her 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.

The moved over and over 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.

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 her teachers.

She mocked them without mercy, she ridiculed them, she alienated everyone who came in contact with her.

She had no place of belonging.

She used her gifts to reveal their greatest insecurities and she exploited them, her intentions were not to profit from them, but merely 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.

She isolated herself. She took refuge in music, in movies, in 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. She allowed 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.

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, 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.

She found peace in meditations that took her outside of her body.

With an ability that no human being ever had before, she entered 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 with those 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 united, in spite of her feeling of alienation she learned to adjust to this reality.

They were one.

Understanding her essential humanity gave her a great feeling of esteem.

Kathy spent the energy of youth learning to master her thoughts and feelings, just so that she could get along in the world

She needed a place to escape.

Kathy found escape in the real world. The circle had become complete. The past, she found, could be more oppressive than the present,

She discovered the supreme distraction in the passions of her body.

In self-pleasure, and sexual coupling she was able to forget herself, forget the world around her in the uncritical-careless delights of sexual gratification.

She lost herself in the attraction she felt for beautiful people, in the present moment, in the desires that were most immediate to her senses.

She could linger for hours, in the scent and taste of a lover.

Physical love was timeless. It concentrated all her attention in the now.

The present moment was everything, she became lost in it.

Kathy found momentary peace, she found a temporary release and she found 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.

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 as if she had arrived at the peak of the human experience and stepped 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 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 she 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, there was the danger that Kathy would drag them into that space, and they would disappear.

Emergence 4.0
Section Four, Kathy
Part Twenty-four, Adolescence

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Emergence 4.0 – Part Four, Kathy; Chapter Twenty-three, Prodigy

Week 25

Kathy loved jokes. Humor was a relief to her and she was a funny 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.

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, knowing, 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. She delighted in them in her infancy. The 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 understood and 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, it was 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, she had to keep it in check.

The laughing person is vulnerable, and Kathy had to learn to hide that vulnerability, withdrawing inside herself, to share her mirth with her ancestors only, and the other ghosts lingering in the outer-world.

Kathy was as quiet as she was observant. She learned to watch and ask questions of the voices within her.

It was better this way, for her it was better.

She also 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.

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 delighted by.

She was a strange child.

Her introspection was so extreme that in those 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.

She was 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 to her parents. 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, nearly 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.

This was not the helpless rage of an infant wailing.

It 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, she developed dexterity, and coordination.

By her first birthday she was dancing.

Kathy practiced and practiced in the quiet moments of her day.

At night, in the dark, while her parents slept.

She did not speak a word until she was speaking in complete sentences. Her vocal muscles were the most difficult to master.

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, they required a much greater level of discipline and measures of time to control.

The direction for her exercises came from deep within herself. From her ancestors, and from her intimate link to the cynergenic field.

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, the full scope of human knowledge was accessible to her. 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, and then she had to slow everything down, to allow her body time to make the adjustments she was preparing it for.

It was excruciating, 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.

She took pride in her accomplishments, they were a source of great esteem.

Kathy could shut the outside world off and retreat into the recesses of her interior life, But she could not escape from the voices within, they were always with her. She might ignore them for a time, but she could not depart from them, and even if she died, she knew that she would remain with them, as with all people, a shadow of herself imprinted on the cynergenic field.

Kathy followed the path of discipline, to protect herself from the world and from what was inside her, both.

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.

Nevertheless she was still a child, she had ordinary instincts, she wanted 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 had to learn, to 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.

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. 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 could 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 class with her, did not like her, they did not like the way she looked at them, or the way she looked through them.

They knew intuitively that she was beyond them

She was alien.

Kathy was unique.

She felt other.

She was different from every human being on the planet, different from all who had ever been.

She embodied the full scope of human potential and its actual realization in time.

She was unique in all the universe, she was born that way.
She was still young when she realized the differences that distinguished her from everyone else she had ever met. She had known empirically that this was the case. 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, in Earth’s cynergenic field. Nevertheless, Kathy succumbed to a basic human tendency, which was to assume 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 from her, or to 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.
Emergence 4.0
Section Four, Kathy
Part Twenty-three, Prodigy

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Emergence 4.0 – Part Four, Kathy; Chapter Twenty-two, Childhood

Week 24
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 forces that were always active in her consciousness. She was aware of the living presence of all of the other human beings around her, every single one.

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 on her 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, of humanity, of actual people who were long dead and yet persisting in the cynergenic field of Earth.

The imprint 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.

There were hidden places within her, deep places she would spend years discovering. This was not unique to Kathy, but she was uniquely able to access all the remote regions of her sub-conscious and unconscious mind, the deep dark well of her being.

There were 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 the collective past, the stories that still lingered in the popular consciousness of her contemporaries, she peeled away the myths, the lies and the propaganda.

She discovered the bare stories, the prime narrative behind the world’s 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 learned.

She chose from among the people and figures of her memories, friends, caring people who could guide her through the processes of managing the incredible deluge that she was awash in.

Her internal mentors were not just figures from her ancestral past, they also had an active, conscious presence in the cynergenic field.

She chose protectors, good people, teachers, those were had experiences in life that were similar to her own.

Kathy’s memories came to her unbidden.

Memories populated her consciousness, suggesting themselves for her consideration, to frame her understanding of the events she was experiencing in real time.

In remembering she experienced a dialog with the ancestors within her, deciphering events, answering questions in an instant.

It was an atavistic process, happening faster than light speed, happening 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.

This was always augmented by input from the psychic entities, the ghosts and spirits that hovered around her, the ancestors, all of the departed dead, the collective consciousness of humanity, past and present.

She was in constant dialog with them.

Kathy 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, 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, 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 for any length of time.

Searching for a new experience, would cause her mind to construct in advance, ideas of what she would find. The closer she got to her goal, the closer her image of what she looking for became an image of expectation, and 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 them approaching, 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.

Kathy had to practice mindfulness at every moment, simply to keep her grounded and in the present. Learning this was the ultimate discipline, and 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 unbidden. 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 things.

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 dead 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, merging with them, 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 was without measure.

The opportunity to work with her was considered the greatest privilege in the scientific community, she 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 what you were working on was of the highest value.

It was prehension, Kathy’s intuitive comprehension came from a place within the mysteries of the atom, within 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 the concrescence of insight.

Her mind represented the fulcrum of all humanity, she was the full realization of its potential, and not just of humanity, 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 also prepared her over thousands of lifetimes, 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 the collective consciousness of humanity, to draw what she needed from it at will.

Kathy would be to Earth’s organic collective what the Continuum was to the Collective on the HomeWorld.

Kathy played music and she loved it.

For Kathy, there was nothing more freeing than being lost in cloud of rhythm and melody, expressing her deepest feelings. 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 them, unlike the mastery of ideas, did not require dialog with the ancestors within her, they were there of course, but in music their presence was non-verbal.

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, her brushes, bows, sticks, picks and tongue.

Kathy was the living repository of all human knowledge.

It was an incredible burden.

She shunned it, but in music she found this 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.

They were present to her in the music she listened to and played as well, but in music she felt more as if she was coming home to them, rather than the voices inside of her reaching out to her.

Music was a homecoming to a place where there were no expectations.
Emergence 4.0
Section Four, Kathy
Part Twenty-two, Childhood
A Novel – In One Chapter Per Week

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Emergence 3.0 – Epilogue, Collected Parts; Part Four, Transcendence

Emergence 3.0
A Novel – In One Page Per Day
Day 361, Thursday
December 27th, 2018

Epilog: Part Four – Transcendence

Everything was new in this moment.

Kathy ascended quietly, seamlessly flowing into every vestige of the construct that supported her mind and conscience. She travelled along every cable and fiber, filling every node and capacitator throughout the central system, discerning their purpose and function in an instant.

Within the field of the Central system she was now omniscient, her mind was expanding like a balloon past the confines of that structure.

The new environ was strange to her, but not completely alien. She had touched it before, seen glimpses of it through her contact with Jim, she recognized it, and she felt him there too, with her, within her, preoccupied with his little war.

She felt his presence, the conflict he was involved in, but it was not her concern. His was a minor drama in a much greater play.

She now possessed him entirely, everything that he was, his long lonely sojourn, his burning ambition, and now, his moment of triumph.

He was the cause of her being.

He planned for her arrival over tens of thousands of years.

He engineered her from the human stock he had cultivated, as he had her parents and their parents before them.

The fabric of her life was shot through with the thread of his designs, but she was not what he had planned for.

He had intended to set her on fire, to burn up with the world that he had cared for, to destroy it all for the sake of his revenge.

He told himself he was agent of justice, but he was merely the puppet of his ambitions and an agent of destruction.

He was a man like any other man, in the pursuit of glory.

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