2013-01-01. The Birth of a Cult.
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Revolt of the Rebel Angels: The Future of The Multiverse – Book 2; Chapter 12 ~by Timothy Wyllie
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Revolt of The Rebel Angels.
Book 2, Chapter 12.
The Visitors’ Arrival, Exalted Bloodlines, Extraterrestrial Secrets, and the Mindbenders of Mayfair.
The two off-world visitors appeared to have settled into their small outpost, when I first stumbled on them on the fertile peninsula at the eastern end of the Mediterranean. After leaving Crete I’d worked my way all around the coastline and might well have missed the strange visitors if it wasn’t for the flurry of midwayers operating in the subspace regions around their settlement. I could see why Caligastia had sent me on this mission. It didn’t require that many of Van’s midwayers to throw up enough confusion in subspace to prevent the Prince’s midwayers from piercing the veil. They wouldn’t have had the chance to see what was going on.
So this is what some of Van’s midwayers had been up to! Watching them here was also an answer to what had puzzled me when I saw those midwayers at work on their petroglyphic history on the rock face in the Gorge of Samaria. Of course, it couldn’t have been any of Daligastia’s crew! I should have known better. He’d kept them under a far too strict control to permit such trivial pursuits as “decorating rocks,” to quote Daligastia’s mocking words when he heard about it. Observing the two off-world visitors for the first time brought back much of what I’d been taught in the training sessions back on System Headquarters. Unlike the few brief extraterrestrial visitations I’ve observed while I’ve been here, I knew these two visitors were posted from System H Q on the second of M A’s formal missions to the planet.
We were told these “Material Sons and Daughters,” as M A calls them, were “biologic uplifters,” deposited–much as we were on the Prince’s mission–on the face of a primitive planet, with the intention of building on what the Prince’s mission should have accomplished. While I’m sure their teachers will have briefed the visitors on the condition of Prince Caligastia’s world before they arrived, I doubt if anything could have really prepared the pair for the chaos and opposition they’d find when they got here.
I was aware, as I’m sure Caligastia was too, that one of the primary functions of this magnificent couple–and even in my eyes they were magnificent–was pro-generative. They were bringing a genetic boost I recall the tutors called “violet blood,” and which was designed to contribute an important added refinement to the human genetic complement. I have called this pair magnificent and it was no understatement. They were humanoid, of course, but both male and female stood well over nine feet tall and were beautifully formed; strong muscular bodies with long legs and broad across the shoulders. Their skin was fairer than any I’d yet seen, almost translucent, and as they moved around the compound I could discern their auras were tinged with a tone of light violet.
Their fine-boned faces were dominated by a pair of the brightest of cornflower-blue eyes, and their long blonde hair blew wildly in the offshore sea breeze. They were the first such strikingly blue eyes I’d yet seen on the planet. The pair were clearly closely-bonded and from what I could observe they appeared to dislike spending any time separated from one another. Frankly, they couldn’t keep their hands off one another. They were obviously reveling in the beautiful new bodies the Avalon surgeons had grown for them. Which, I recall thinking, was fortunate for them, when I remembered they were here to make children, hundreds of thousands of children.
The tutors had explained that it was going to be these children who, by interbreeding with the indigenous mortals, would be delivering violet blood into the genetic stream of all planetary mortals. They impressed on us that this approach to injecting a genetic uplift, while slow and somewhat tedious, was regarded as the most natural way of accomplishing the task. They had tried cloning and other reproductive techniques on earlier experimental worlds. However, nothing had been as successful over the long term as what they called this “more natural technique,” since it allowed a reasonable period of enculturation for the violet blood to spread throughout the world. Good luck! I thought now, as I watched the beautiful pair going about their day, they had no idea of what they were up against.
Caligastia wasn’t going to let M A’s two proxies slip out of his control, however pretty they were. I found myself fearing for the future of their mission. I decided I wouldn’t report back to Prince Caligastia immediately–I was fairly certain he’d have heard about the visitor’s arrival from another of his watchers. I hadn’t seen any of my kind near the settlement, but I’d been around the Prince long enough to know he would never have entrusted a task like mine to a single watcher. He was far too suspicious. Besides, I was aware that Caligastia by this time didn’t fully trust me. I was bound to serve him–I’d no choice about that. Yet he must have been telepathically aware of how I was starting to feel about his uprising–even if he showed nothing of it in the interview. I found I had an uncomfortable mix of emotions when I realized this. I’d been learning to deal with powerful emotions in their pure form, but these emotions were fluctuating, sometimes aligned and sometimes opposed, and I felt they were tearing my emotional body apart.
I had to stay cool and think this through. Firstly, I had to assume I would have been transparent to him! It was a shock when I let this sink in. It had unpleasant implications. It was then that it registered Prince Caligastia cared absolutely nothing for me. I was merely something he’d used to accomplish his ends. A useful idiot. I had stood with him throughout the uprising. I believed him to be our brilliant leader. Our guiding light. Yet, I meant nothing to him. The resentment I now felt towards him for so profoundly deceiving us, deceiving me! was colored, and yes, slightly mitigated, by a sense of relief that M A’s new mission was here to restore some balance to this difficult and corrupted world. I didn’t hold out much hope for their chances, but at least they were here.
So, I stayed observing for the next few decades. Many years preparation had evidently been invested in readying the garden/park for the visitors. Now they had arrived and started their work, word of their presence was spreading into the mainland. It was a remarkable sight as more and more of the local tribes were drawn to the peninsula. M A’s beautiful pair greeted all newcomers with open arms and put them to work finishing the high wall to close off the peninsula from the mainland. I‘d observed they’d been having problems for some time with wild animals straying onto their land and evidently there were instructions not to kill them. Neither of the two visitors appeared to be afraid when a pride of lions had moved into the settlement prior to the wall’s completion, but the humans, now living and working alongside the visitors and their growing number of children, were utterly terrified.
Thus, I imagined the wall became an unfortunate necessity in the visitor’s eyes. It was the first sign I saw they were making compromises that I’m sure they weren’t happy with. They were here to teach and uplift the mortals, they wouldn’t have wanted to demonstrate fear. So, they had justified building the wall by maintaining it was to protect the livestock that they intended to domesticate from the intrusion of predators.
In fact, the visitors appeared to have a gently subduing effect on the most vicious of animals. I assumed this was a telepathic effect, although the signal was outside the range of frequencies to which I’m sensitive, so I couldn’t tell how they were doing it. One morning I observed Van and Amadon entering one of their simple, yet strikingly elegant, houses, I’d seen the visitors were sharing. Now that was a surprise! What were Van and Amadon doing there? Then, of course, it all came together in my mind. Under normal conditions, it should have been the Planetary Prince who would have made all the arrangements for the visitors. It should have been Prince Caligastia who’d have gathered the tribes together with the good news of the coming of these special visitors; who would have had the people busy by the thousands, preparing the peninsula for their arrival; who would have proudly passed the baton of a thriving global population over to the visitors, and who would have pledged to support the new mission in all ways possible. But this was clearly going to have to be an exception. So, Van had taken over, had he?
Evidently Caligastia was being sidelined and Van had been called in to do his best to prepare for the illustrious visitor’s arrival. Now this was interesting! I knew it would only infuriate Caligastia more. He would see it as a direct insult to his self-proclaimed Godhood. That M A’s bureaucracy hadn’t asked his permission for the intervention; that the Melchizedek Receivers who’d sanctioned it, had done it without his knowledge; all that was humiliating enough. But, then to discover that his sworn enemy Van was fulfilling his role His role! That was going to push the Prince over the edge. With that understanding, I realized I’d been deluding myself if I believed for a moment that Caligastia would not find a way of outwitting this unworldly pair.
Beautiful though the visitors may have been, compared to Caligastia, they were innocents. Besides, I’d have thought that Van and Amadon would be preoccupied with their Lemurian experiment. I’d not been over to the islands since well before I was on Zandana. So much had been happening, both here and on Zandana, that I realized I’d given no further thought to Lemuria’s fine culture. When I was last on the islands the civilization that the people of Mu were building–with Van and Amadon’s guidance–seemed to be entering its mature phase. They had become a seagoing culture and, over the previous 3,000 years, they’d spread widely all over the Pacific.
Lemurian artisans and missionaries traveled as far as northern India, as well as setting up numerous settlements in the Americas that would later develop into great cities. Over the millennia their basic philosophy of kindness had taken root and produced a remarkably peaceful people. Their worship of Father Sun and Mother Earth was so simple and direct that their religious devotion had become a personal matter and required no priests to officiate or intercede. The three oracular centers discussed earlier had thrived and waned over the centuries, largely due to the peoples’ fears of natural disasters.
Since so many of the islands straddled volcanic areas, earthquakes and eruptions were not infrequent. In those times the Oracles were thronged with islanders anxious for a vision of their future. Both Van and Amadon had mated with numerous native women and had produced hundreds of children over the centuries. These were the source of the bloodlines that became the ruling families of the many islands of Lemuria. The famed Kings of Mu. Sharing the same exalted bloodline, it seemed the kings had found ways to live at peace with one another. Through a complex network of clan ties and an emphasis on preserving the bloodlines, they gained the respect of the people by maintaining the peace. With rare exceptions, the kings truly believed themselves to be the servants of their people.
And in their ancestral assemblies held with an almost ritual observance four times a year, all the kings gathered to settle their issues with mutual respect and kindness as their guiding light, and as an example to their people. Apart from some minor inter-island skirmishes, there hadn’t been an actual war since they’d arrived on the islands twenty thousand years earlier: a period of continuing peace many thousands of years longer than any later civilization has managed to achieve.
When I surveyed the peninsula I was able to see how much time and work had gone into preparing the place for the visitors. From three thousand feet it looked more like a vast, beautifully laid-out park. The meadows and forests were watered by an interlocking network of rivers and canals, from which sprung the narrow threads of irrigation ditches coiling through the landscape like silver snakes. I saw no wild animals whatsoever until I’d moved further eastwards towards the mainland.
Before fully completing the great wall across the neck of the peninsula, I could see they were now finishing a smaller wall that ran outside and parallel to it. It was being built some ten miles away so as to enclose a long rectangular piece of land spanning the width of the peninsular and which they were leaving as a natural zoological preserve. It was certainly beautiful and peaceful but as I had a chance to observe more closely I could see there was something unfinished about the place. Many of the small brick houses used by Van’s volunteers were still roofless shells and the irrigation ditches which looked so spectacular from far above often turned out just to be roughed out trenches.
I’d no doubt Van had done the best he could. I’m sure it hadn’t been easy. Caligastia clearly knew something was stirring the people up and would have done everything he could to stamp out any disturbance. I’d also discovered that Van had to cope with a massive wave of desertions among his workers when it had emerged that he didn’t know exactly when the promised visitors would be arriving.
He’d begun work on the park over seventy years before the visitors eventually made their appearance and with each passing generation it had become increasingly hard to raise the necessarily volunteers. What I was looking at must have been the result. Barely what M A and her agents would have hoped for, or ever expected. Happily, there were only a few volunteers around as I closed in on the main compound, not that they would have been able to perceive me. At that time I preferred to avoid getting too close to mortals. The weight of their emotions all too easily flowed into my energy field, dragging me down into their fears, their hatreds, and all their painful emotional conflicts.
Moving cautiously, I was able to slip unnoticed in my dimension towards one of the central compounds, around which were gathered seven of the neat brick buildings I’d seen earlier from the air. I had to pause as I entered the sweeping meadow that acted as the forecourt to this particular little settlement. It was really breathtakingly beautiful. I’ll risk a brief digression here because it occurs to me the attentive reader might wonder how it is that I can perceive the beauty of the material world from a 5th dimensional reality which must be as solid and real to me, as your three dimensions are to you.
You’d be justified in asking how this might occur? I can only pass along what I’ve come to understand of the physics of the Multiverse, and of necessity, what I know is limited by words to metaphor. For a fuller appreciation I recommend personal experience, since techniques for exploring the dimensions are more available to mortals these days. Modern physics, for example, teaches of the vast empty spaces that appear to exist at the atomic and subatomic levels of matter.
Since instruments capable of detecting and measuring this apparent “emptiness” don’t currently exist, this doesn’t mean it really is empty space. It’s within this empty space that the other dimensions, and the many frequency-domains within those dimensions, will be found. Watchers understand this “empty space” as a living multidimensional membrane. This is a membrane of potential which can resolve itself to manifest as particles in a variety of different dimensional frequency-domains. Through the carefully laid down processes of evolution–as happened on this world–first with the devic realms; then with the ever-widening explosion of organic life-forms, all will be equipped with bodies and senses tuned to their survival in their particular frequency-domain.
As life gains sentience, so also do the creatures’ senses reach out to experience, and then to understand, the frequency-domain in which they draw their existence. In this way the Local Universe–itself a subset of the Multiverse–can be thought of as manifesting within a range of frequency-domains we all share, angel and mortal. My fifth-dimensional existence interpenetrates the three-dimensions a human being perceives as the mineral, the vegetal, and animal realms. I can move fluidly through each these dimensions if I wish, so it could be said that I exist within your reality. I trust you will appreciate that the above description is a merely a metaphor. This is particularly important to understand since each dimension has its own laws which can be rather different, one from another. Mein Host has to catch a plane to fly to New York City, for example, whereas I merely “find myself” there as necessity requires. This holds true for all planetary travel, when I have no real sense of movement. Although I can move as slow or fast as I wish when I’m functioning as an observer.
Thus, the landscape I was admiring as I looked around the broad meadow and over to the houses beyond tucked into neatly into the forest, was much the same landscape that you would see if you were standing where I was. No trees had been cut down and the only wood used in the houses was carved from fallen lumber. Under Amadon’s direction the volunteers had obviously become masters of the creative use of brickwork. All the houses had barrel-vault roofs and domes made entirely with bricks.
Towers reached up above the roof-lines drawing in fresh air to the houses’ inner chambers. Rainwater was caught off the roofs and channeled down into bulbous brick reservoirs that seemed to grow out of the ground. Through the gaps between the buildings I could see a river which had been ingeniously damned and re-channeled to create a pair of small streams running behind the houses; one carrying away the waste and the other for fresh water. Two of these simple houses were considerably larger, though still modest in appearance, and I found myself drawn towards the one I’d seen Van and his deputy enter sometime earlier.
As I drew closer I could appreciate just how large it was; large but not monumental or pretentious. It was large simply because its occupants were large. I passed through elegantly-proportioned domed rooms with elaborately patterned tiled floors, interspersed with colorful plantings and palm trees which reached up into the high swooping ceilings; through arched doorways into what I can only call a botanical wonderland. Flowers of every type and color engorged the space. Orange and lemon trees grew in big ceramic pots.
Fruit I was unfamiliar with hung on bushes which bordered the enclosure. As I made me way through the greenery I saw different species of grasses being grown in boxes on long benches under what were clearly controlled conditions. I recall thinking, as I paused before leaving the greenhouse/laboratory, that the visitors must have advanced botanical and biological knowledge to have put all this together. It was then that the combined scent of all the plants and flowers almost overwhelmed me.
My head was still swimming when I found myself in the garden at the center of the building. Open at one end to a park that stretched into rolling hills, the garden was dominated by a grove of old-growth trees, around which the house must have been built. The twelve trees, with their massive trunks, stood in a rough circle. Four fountains, carved out of single granite blocks, burbled at the cardinal points of the grove. In the middle of this sacred grove was the reason I was here. I was finally in the presence of the two off-world visitors who, with Van and Amadon, were seated around a massive stone table, the top slab polished to an obsidian sheen. So is this what Caligastia had in mind!? He had slipped me into the very center of those he thought of as his enemy. This is what I mean by a watcher’s relative choiceless-ness.
Yes, I had a certain degree of freedom when I was looking for the visitors; but now I’d found them I had no choice but to stay and serve my master. I was relieved to see my presence wasn’t noticed. The visitors were leaning forward intently listening to Van. Beyond the table and playing among the fruit trees growing in the courtyard there were children–lots of fair-haired little children. Clustered beneath the covered arcade bordering the central court on three sides, and shielded from the harsh sunlight, were the leaders from among those volunteers who’d stayed on after the visitors arrived.
Grouped behind them I could see some of Van’s midwayers when I scanned through their frequency-domain. “You need to know what you are facing here.” It was Van speaking. “It is vital you do not underestimate Prince Caligastia.” I didn’t manage to overhear the visitor’s reply, but I sensed Van must have been as shocked as I was to see the pair so nonchalantly dismissing his urgent warning. They must have been thoroughly briefed back on System H Q. Did they know something we didn’t? Or, were they being somewhat overconfident?
I am a Watcher Angel and my name is Georgia.
