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In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Malvina is outpouring love, sighed Leormn happily to Arona, with a little smile on his face.
Arona rolled her eyes. Hmmph, well that is all very nice, but meanwhile I can’t get into the damn cave, which, quite frankly Dragon, would not worry me other than I am anxious to locate my friends.
And then she burst into loud sobs.
I have had a gutsful of you and Malvina and your shifting of things, she managed to gulp out eventually. Shifting this, shifting that! and nothing looks any better after all the damn shifting. I mean what on earth is the point of it?
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
It’s been now a few months Malvina had relocated the cave to a new place and she’d been starting to reunite with her sisters in unexpected ways.
But now, she was longing for something more. She wanted to find someone with whom to share more. To reflect the outpurring love.
Leormn was smiling as he reached for her inner dialogue. Ever since Georges and Salome had brought them to this new place, the dynamic had changed, and there were new adventures showing up.In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
The world at large seemed to be going out of whack, and yet, all things seemed more and more perfect to Yurick when he was observing how these sudden surges of unsettling energies where only skin-deep —unless of course people wanted to make them out of proportion, and have their fair share of drama.
It was after all, only a matter of vibration. It could be as easy as noticing the least tension in his body, and releasing it as soon as noticed. It didn’t have to be big; small improvements were actual improvements, and really, all that ever mattered.
So, on the whole everything was fine, and he was surprised at how much, despite the sometimes dreadful incidences that had reared their ugly heads the past few weeks, people he knew had been able to cope with them, and no less than embracing these usually deemed “ugly” extensions of people’s own vibrations.
Noticing a slight tension in his solar plexus as Yann was telling him some little flowers where appearing on the cherry tomato plant, he released it with a grateful sigh…
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
When Veranassessee entered the room, looking for the guests, she was startled to discover the awful mess.
At first, she thought the cyclone Ycart may have been doing the wreckage, but soon she found out that no wall was gone, so it was obviously coming from inside the facility.
What the…
The super-calculator computer had been torn apart, and the electronic insides spread out everywhere.
The Confregration would be furious that all was left of their precious asset they entrusted the mad (mmm, mentally challenged) doctor to carry out his insane (err… unusual) experiments was a big pile of unworkable chunks.
She was thinking of how she could cover up that mess… given that the doctor was still probably reeling in frilly suspenders and silky dresses, she had time to clean up a bit. The Doc would probably won’t notice a difference, as megalomaniac as he was, he wouldn’t admit that a great part of his strides in his researches on spider genome were coming from the super-calculator…
That nose of a b… nurse Bellamy was probably cleaning up his drool, so she might have enough time to act.Pushing aside a few coconuts, Veranassessee backed away suddenly…
A trail of purple blood now?
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Sure aliens… Why not aliens? Becky said with a funny maniac laughter that sent chills through Tina’s back.
After all, we’ve been talking to dead people for so long, we’ve forgotten all about alien lives… I want to believe!Well, Tina shrugged in complete abandon, I suppose that would not be your last eccentricity after all… But now that Al starts to believe such utter nonsense is beyond my understanding. I think I need to get more sleep too.
See you tomorrow, and have fun with your rugrats darling pooh… she said with a sugary smile while closing the videoconf window.Phew… Becky sighed, with an anxious side glance at the silent cradles that may not stay silent much longer.
The rugrats have names you know Tina, she said, more to herself than to the benefit of anyone else.
And hell if I remember what they are now…In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
— Tina, don’t listen, she’s only a clone!
AHAHAHAH, now that’s Dory calling us delusional, see Finn…
I told you she’s a mad woman, believing all
that stuff about ancient pyramids in Spain ahahaha— I’m not schizophrenic, no no!
And now she only speaks about that Wrick she’s just met…
— STOP THE VOICES IN MY HEAD!
Focus on what you KNOW, BE in the NOW
~ I AM ~
I KNOW I am more than what I appear to be.
I KNOW it is all One Experience.
I KNOW I don’t need to know everything, and if I do, information will appear.~ I KNOW I AM ~
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
PPPSSST!
Arona looked around, but couldn’t see anything. That sounded just like someone saying PPSSST, she said to herself.
PPPSSTT! Over here!
A large human form hidden behind voluminous dusty folds of indigo fabric was beckoning to her from behind a rock.
Arona! Over here!
Arona inched towards the apparition. Sanso? she whispered. Sanso, is that really you?
Ahahaha yes, it’s me, and this is my new friend Zhana, he said, courteously introducing the two girls.
I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation, Arona. I know where the cave entrances are. You’re most welcome to come with us, if you’d like to. There are no closed entrances in MY cave. Er, Our cave, Sanso corrected himself. Well, MY cave. He laughed. You know what I mean, he said, We all know we each create our own caves, no need to keep droning on and on about it, eh, but what I mean to say is, if you’d like to share a perception of my cave with me, where there are no closed entrances (or indeed exits, depending on your direction and point of perception), you are most welcome to join us.
Looking kindly down at Zhana, he continued: I’ll bet my young freind here would appreciate some young female company.
We’re going to Nishanti’s place, Arona, said Zhana shyly. Would you like to come with us?
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
I’m worried about Al, Tina, said Becky. He’s really acting strange lately, have you noticed?
Noticed! Of course I’ve bloody noticed! exclaimed Tina.
Aw, Tina! Becky gave Tina a warm hug.
I don’t think he’s getting enough sleep, Becky, Tina continued. Like for example, you know what you were writing in the Reality Play about Becky and the clones? Well, he thinks it’s real! He thinks the babies are clones. He even thinks YOU’RE a clone, Becky!
Oh surely not, Tina! Ahahahah! Becky couldn’t help laughing.
It’s no laughing matter, Backy, said Tina reproachfully, but Becky’s laughter was infectious and Tina started to smile. Oh stop making me laugh! I’m worried!
A gurgling sound erupted from one of the baby Moses baskets. Those babies have such a sense of humour for such tiny things! said Tina, smiling down at the sunny smiling little faces.
Haha yes, when they’re not screaming with rage, laughed Becky.
Tina frowned. I wonder what Al sees when he looks at them?
What do you mean, Tina?
Well, didn’t you read Al’s last entry in the Play? Don’t ask me for a link, Becks, look it up yourself!
Becky rolled her eyes with mock exasperation. You mean about them being emotionless?
He’s reconfiguring their energy to fit his delusions, Becky. He’s becoming so immersed in the Play that he’s believing it’s real . It’s all a bit worrying, because he’ll be going on about dragons and mermaids in the apartment next, or talking chairs or something. I don’t know how to handle it.
Hey, I have an idea! Becky said. How about that doctor Muir?
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Much to Arona’s surprise…
Although I don’t know why I am continually surprised, she thought, surely I am getting used to this weirdo story by now.
Well anyway, Arona found herself standing outside of Malvina’s cave. She was still so caught up in the last warm remnants of her delightful reverie in the field of flowers it took her a few moments to realise that the entrance to the cave had disappeared and was now a solid wall of stone.
Hmmmm, yes, said Leormn, appearing in the nick of time to answer her unspoken question, Yes, Malvina has been shifting things around again.
I can’t get in though! complained the ever astute Arona.
No, agreed Leormn reflectively, you can’t. Well there is another entrance, but this has only been disclosed to an elite few. He smiled smugly.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
New Venice, July, 1 st 2035
The night was hot in New Venice at this time of the year. The weather patterns had been steadily shifting for many years, and the climate was now sub-tropical in the inundated Big Apple, as more and more people resented the usual coldness of winters, and had subjectively agreed upon a heightening of the temperatures of a few degrees.
Though accustomed to tell his body to relax, and vibrate at a lower frequency to counteract the sticky and displeasing effects of the heat, Al was finding sleep hard to find. Usually, he would attribute those moments of twitching slumberness to mass accessing of subjective information and bringing them to the objective. With the eclipse that would occur in the next weeks, those were still time of great cosmic synchronistic congruence.
Needless to say, he and Tina had been somewhat stirred by Becky’s sudden casualness, and relative abandon not only of the Reality Play but also of her three lovely first born to her friends.
People of that mysterious facility that Becky had briefly spoken so highly of had been doing a fantastic job, considering the very early birth, but still, Al had soon noticed the babies were displaying some kind of emotionless state which was eerie to observe in children that young. He had first thought of a remnant from the birth trauma, but it appeared that they were all perfectly aware, and even more than that, accutely aware of their environment to the point of displaying qualities of awareness akin to telepathy or pre-sentience.Sam’s innate talent with the young ones had been very beneficial to them, and Al was hoping, would help them access their emotional communications as a guidance system to navigate within the immense and potentially overwhelming quantity of subjective information they were given such an easy access to.
Finally after having spent so much time before the cyputer, Al was collapsing from tiredness. He threw himself on the tatami for a healthy dose of rejuvenating sleep. Or so he thought…
Al woke up with a chill, sweat beading over his eyebrow.
He remembered.
They would come… Hybrids from their future… He remembered having met one a few years ago.
A strange bald guy with piercing eyes and strange snorting twitches on his face. One moment he was talking to him in the middle of the ramp waiting for a condocab, and the moment after, he had forgotten all of this encounter.
The guy had said intently to wait for the time when the Dream would remind them it was the Time of the Reunion.
So what was next? Aliens coming in their aluminum flying saucepans making mosquito sounds?
That sounded awfully like the outrageous rants that old Russian guy named Pasha was making years ago in the archives of Dory —which they had taken as a basis for their Reality Play…Gosh, that dream was so vivid, it couldn’t be a coincidence… Especially since the first Hybrids to make contact all looked like they were clones of Becky!
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Roshan sipped his tea thoughtfully. I hope you know what you’re doing, Gayesh.
Gayesh smiled confidently at his uncle. Stop worrying, Roshan! It’s all going perfectly to plan. Nishanti will be here in a few days; she will act as bait for the others. Becky is already here, and doing well. I don’t anticipate problems with Becky.
Roshan snorted.
Gayesh continued: Bea and Leonora have been contacted, although they are not objectively aware yet. We may have to send someone back; we need their cooperation.
Roshan raised his eyebrows. And what if they don’t cooperate?
Gayesh replied with a sinister chuckle, Leave it to me, uncle. Things are coming together perfectly.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Nishanti fidgeted while she waited for her sister Nanda to explain why they were all gathered here in the kitchen, with the doors and windows closed against eavesdroppers.
Now, listen to me carefully, sisters, Nanda began. This is a secret! Our brother Gayesh is alive! But nobody is to know, so don’t breathe a word to anyone, ok? Nanda peered sternly into the eyes of each of her young sisters. It would compromise his research project…or something…..anyway, he told me that secrecy is of the utmost importance at this stage, so don’t say a word.
Now, go and pack a small bag, each of you, as if for a picnic…not too much! We don’t want anyone to think we’re leaving, just going out for the day.
Where are we going, Nanda? asked Nishanti.
To the old family home in the mountains, that’s where Gayesh has his facility now.
But there’s no roof left on it, Nanda! Eromi said, alarmed. I don’t want to go there!
Oh, shush, Eromi, he’s fixed the place up, silly.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Sanso was receiving a communication
which he translated as:
“You are invited to The Elsepace Arrangement. Everything allowed. Everything true. Blatant contradictions harmonious.”
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Primary Becky woke up as the sun was sinking behind the coconut trees. The grounds of the Serendib Facility were striped with the long golden shadows of evening as Becky sat up in the wicker steamer chair, rubbing her eyes and mumbling the last few remembered words of a dream….. Luce is calling…which she promptly forgot.
Never one to keep a good thing to herself, Becky had a sudden impulse to call Tina in New Venice and tell her about Serendib. She loved the name Serendib: ‘serendipity.’ Becky had fallen in love with the magical island, and wanted to share it.
She had a feeling that Tina would like it here.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
When Becky had made her unexpected trip to Marseille just before her honeymoon, she warmly recommended Al to contact Leah’s brother, the renowned psychiatrist Dr. Lee Muir, who appeared to be living almost next door to them, in New Venice…
Their fields of study weren’t exactly similar, but they probably could mutually benefit from each other’s knowledge: for one of the mind, and the other of the body (all the more since Lee Muir was trans-gendered, and was now a woman by all means, which certainly was within Al’s field of studies).
Dr. Lee Muir was using what (s)he called “Fairly Graphical Fluid therapy” (or FGF therapy for short) as her preferred technique to help re-balance the mind of the most insane patients. It was a type of extreme reportage to the confines of the mind, as she would say.Al had emailed the Doctor, and send her a copy of funny doodles in jest, to see what would come out of this.
This morning, Dr Lee Muir called him to schedule an appointment. Al could discern some anxiety in her manly voice… Could it be linked to this stupid doodle ?
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
They don’t do much though Sam, do they? said Tina, looking quizzically at the sleeping infants and just managing to repress the urge to prod one of them in order to wake it.
Sam did not appear to be overly bothered. He was making strange cooing noises and waving a toy Lemur in the air in front of the cribs.
He glared at Tina. Shush Tina! Do you have no maternal instincts at all? Sleeping or not, they take everything in. Do you know that baby crocodiles talk to each other even from inside the egg? He shook his head in exasperation.
Don’t mind that mean old Tinipooh, he said gently to the babies. Uncle Sam will play you some nice soothing didgereedoo.
Tina laughed, kissed Sam affectionately, and made a hasty exit. Not that she didn’t enjoy the didgereedoo, of course.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Oh, by the way, Gayesh….. Becky turned as she leaving his office. What about those babies? My babies, she corrected herself.
The babies will be fine, they will be returned to the father, ahem, to Sean, the husband, for upbringing, along with the clone.
Oh phew, said Becky, feeling slightly guilty for her lack of maternal feelings.
Becky, Gayesh got up from behind his desk and walked over to Becky and held her hands in his, peering kindly into her eyes. Maternal feelings are not a requirement you know, it’s merely a preference of some. There’s nothing ‘wrong’ with choosing a clone to bring up your children. It’s not ‘wrong’ to choose a clone to live with a husband chosen in haste and in error…not that there are any errors! he chuckled. You will see how perfectly this will all work out. Trust me! Better still, trust YOURSELF!
You’re so kind, Gayesh! Becky gushed. And really rather attractive too, she smiled slyly. Did she wink at Gayesh? Maybe she did. Or maybe it was one of those eye twitches. Gayesh watched her saunter down the corridor, smiling.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Becky visited the nursery at The Facility every day, and smiled vaguely at the triplets, relieved that they were thriving and being well cared for. She had spent several happy hours ordering a new wardrobe online, charging it all to The Facility, whose staff were being wonderfully kind and accomodating. She spent the days reading historical novels, lounging on the recliners on the numerous patios and balconies, or strolling through the colourful leafy gardens, or floating in the cool lotus filled pools, without a care in the world.
The past few months had been draining, exhausting. The unexpected break from everything that was familiar was doing her a power of good.
One hot still afternoon, Gayesh, the director of the facility, called her into his large airy office. The antique ceiling fan ruffled the papers on his desk. The papers were part of the antique decor, giving the room a nostalgic 20th century air.
Becky, we have been observing you while you’ve been staying with us, Gayesh said kindly. And we would like to make you an offer.
Observing me? asked Becky, feeling a trifle violated.
Oh, you know, at the essence level, dear, replied Gayesh, with a gentle smile. Your essence did agree, we couldn’t be intrusive, of course, as you know.
Oh well, if my essence agreed that’s ok I guess, answered Becky, mollified. What’s your offer?
Gayesh explained at length the purpose of the Facility, while Becky yawned and studied her new shoes, her mind wandering…
…….and so, in a nutshell, Gayesh was saying, If you give us permission, we can send a cloned Becky back to Galle, and the husband Sean, while you, my dear, do whatever you desire. You can be mother to the essences already lined up to manifest via your, er, the clones, body (and may I point out that none of our undercover clones so far have been uncovered, shall we say), which will facilitate….Gayesh chuckled….your new found freedom! You will be a free Becky that nobody knows exists! Free to wander hither and yon, without any responsibilities…..what do you say?
I accept your offer, sir! Becky said, jumping up to shake Gayesh’s hand.
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Becky pulled a loose cotton dress out of the suitcase, and scowled at her bikinis. I’ll go for a long hike, she muttered to herself, slipping a pair of strappy mule sandals on her feet. At least my legs aren’t fat! she said, admiring her slim ankles.
Slamming the door of the hotel bedroom behind her, Becky trotted down the stairs, hesitating momentarily at the dining room, she decided against breakfast, and strode out of the door into the morning sunshine.
Squinting in the glare of the bright tropical sun, Becky swore under her breath. Forgot my fucking sunglasses, damn! Not wanting to return to the bedroom and see Sean again, Becky strode on.
She walked and walked, hardly noticing a thing as she grumbled and fretted to herself. She reached the edge of the town and carried on walking; not paying attention to where she was going, she made randon turns to left and right, and eventually the paved roads petered out into dirt paths, and still Becky strode on in her flimsy sandals, squinting with the sun and the sweat that was dripping into her eyes.
By the middle of the afternoon, Becky was hopelessly lost and close to swooning with hunger and the overpowering heat, but she stumbled on. A sudden sharp pain almost doubled her over, and she stood clutching her stomach. Shit, I should have had breakfast, she swore under her breath, mistaking the pain for a hunger pang.
Perhaps a trifle unwisely, Becky decided to run, in an attempt to find the nearest house or village in which she could find a morsel to eat. Before long the inevitable happened, and she twisted her ankle on a stone and fell heavily, banging her head and knocking herself blissfully unconscious.
