Visitation - Exodus (book 2 of 2)

Shara woke me gently with her soft hand stroking my cheek. She persisted until my eyes were fully open and I was looking directly into her deep hazel eyes that were looking straight into mine. She smiled, withdrew her hand and stood up fully from her position leaning over me.

“How do you feel now, Ian?” she asked me.

I was truly refreshed and keen to move on with the day.

“You must eat a little now,” she chided.

“Have at least one square; it will give you sufficient energy to take you through another day.”

I conceded immediately, reaching for one of the thick, light tan squares. Shara remained standing while I bit into the portion of food to find, to my surprise, that it had the taste of butterscotch or something very similar. I finished it off and took another long drink from my glass that had been refilled.

“Helmet and gloves on Ian, let’s move,” she directed.

“If we are safe here without our helmets, why should we need them now?” I queried.

“Because they are easier to carry that way instead of being carried in your hands,” she answered with a broad smile.

That made sense. It was nice to have a simple answer to a simple question; it brought a sense of reality to what was likely still to be a complicated day. I got to my feet, put on my helmet, visor open of course, a task I was well practised in now, followed by my gloves.

“Come with me, there are some very special people that wish to meet you,” she said very simply.

“How long have I been asleep,” I asked.

“About three hours or so,” she replied. “It was as I detected. You were in need of an immediate period of rest and I believe you have slept well, is that not so?”

“Three hours is a good power nap, I needed that; I hope I wasn’t snoring, was I?”

She laughed. “I have no idea, I have been sleeping also. I awoke just before you. If you were making such noises they would be of no concern to me.”

She chuckled again.

Shara beckoned me to follow her through another door leading from this lounge, onto a descending staircase, of the same automatic type as at the base, now destroyed and so far away. At the bottom of the staircase we continued without interruption along a long and wide corridor that included a moving floor, an extension perhaps of the escalator.

We travelled for a long time perhaps a half hour, I wasn’t watching the time, feeling most secure with Shara or was it her making me feel secure and calming my concerns. Perhaps it was only a false sense resulting from a rejuvenating period of sleep and a little refreshment. Whatever the reason, perhaps all of the things I was considering, I did not care, I felt really good now. Without turning to me physically, I felt her presence enter deep within my mind, a loving warm presence that kept reassuring me that all really was well.

That sweet smell of herbs came to rise to me as it did in the vision of the woods but this time it was real. The further we travelled, the greater the scent until, closing my eyes, I could swear we were back in that forest. Then the journey came to an abrupt end in a hallway.

“I believe that you will enjoy this Ian, follow me.”

With that she opened a large door with a wave of her hand and stepping through I was stood on grass, amongst trees and on the edge of a lake only a short distance away. The sun shone brightly but this was the same type of sunshine as I had seen my grandchildren playing in back at the base before it had been destroyed.

We were in a massive cavern that held a beautiful parkland type setting but it was devoid of people.

“They are all near the surface waiting to leave, Ian,” Shara explained. “They are in various corridors and side rooms. Down here, part of our home for thousands of generations, is now almost empty. Before you ask me Ian, this is only one of hundreds of underground caverns, many like this with water containment areas, others with living accommodation, all with artificial sunshine and perfectly controlled atmospheres. They are all joined together to provide a comfortable living space for the last of our race, the descendants of those who were lucky to survive the great catastrophe.”

“Yes, you are correct, before you ask me another question . . .”

She was anticipating the questions I had not even formed in my mind; how deep did her penetration of my thoughts go?

“Very deep Ian, but do not be concerned, I am truly your friend and will never hurt you," she broke from her original words. “We have learned, as you were about to ask, how to live in harmony together. If it were otherwise we would not have survived for so long.”

“Come, your presence is awaited.”

Having walked on lush grass along the edge of the lake for a short distance, avoiding the patches of reeds lest we end up with wet feet, we turned into a cove. There, waiting for us, was a small boat not at all dissimilar to small luxury ones on Earth, tied up at a jetty and with a driver, clearly anxious to be on the move.

We stepped aboard, seated ourselves in two very comfortable seats, and as soon as the driver unhitched the boat from the jetty, he drove it away at some speed out into the middle of the silent lake; the ride soon became truly exhilarating. Some ten minutes or so of excitement and we reached the far end of the lake where another jetty connected with what I had to assume would soon become doors in an otherwise featureless white wall.

Shara led the way off the boat, along the jetty and through a door, where I had anticipated it might be, into another long corridor with a moving floor, then another, and yet again one more but this time accessed with a security sort of device she produced from somewhere. Shara then paused in front of what I took to be a scanner on the face of a side wall before the corridor came to an end. I had to assume there was yet another door somewhere here that had a security type access.

She stared into a small dark screen only momentarily before a door, where, I also guessed correctly opened. She ushered me through and followed-on close behind. This last entry had taken us not into a corridor but into an anti-room of sorts where, what I could only describe as a 'Buddhist monk' in his loose saffron robes, tied round his waist with a cord of golden thread, sat waiting for us.

With his cleanly shaved head and studious demeanour, he sat cross-legged off to the left side of the room upon a large patterned cushion. The floor was covered upon a thick, reddish colour, decorative carpet. The air was heavy with a smell of incense similar to something I had encountered somewhere on Earth, although I could not immediately recall where.

“Welcome,” he said quite plainly in thought in an even tone and without a hint of head movement.

“You are both awaited and I believe the Senior Keepers will see you immediately. Please remain standing here for one moment and I will check.”

All these words were coming into my thoughts via Shara who stood alongside me quite overjoyed in anticipation of what was to follow. I felt her sense of pleasurable anticipation and had to assume that that all was to be well. I stood a little nervously but this time Shara did not put me at ease; I was to be myself and, I guessed, to react normally in the presence of such senior people.

The saffron robed ‘monk’ sat quietly cross legged and I assumed that he was conversing with these ‘Senior Keepers’, as he had called them, via his thought processes. I detected nothing but Shara confirmed for me this was indeed the case but with an instruction to remain silent. His face did not portray any change in emotion except for his eyes that now darted between Shara and myself as he tilted his head up to look in our direction.

“Stay calm Ian, just relax, do not concern yourself with the slow pace at which our Senior people or the Keepers seem to operate. Theirs is a contemplative existence of consideration upon consideration. They are most wise and if you should wish to, you could learn a great deal by just being in their presence.”

Shara was advising me gently.

“You used the word ‘Keeper’ Shara,” I asked, “and the monk here said Senior Keepers, who are the Keepers?”

“You are stood before one right now,” she replied.

“The person you have described as a ‘monk’ we call a ‘Keeper’ or rather, they call themselves ‘Keepers’. You will come to understand shortly, I assure you. He is not offended by your description because you are both a stranger who would not be expected to know and because I have let him have access to my memories, your memories, those I accessed when we first met.”

“You may think it odd that I used the word ‘stranger’ when we have led a secluded and closed life as survivors well beneath the surface of the planet,” Shara started explaining. "But there are sufficient of us never to meet everyone else in our lifetimes and besides it is a feature of the Keepers' code to consider all people they meet as strangers to be welcomed with kindness and hospitality. This is an ancient philosophy that may go far back to the time of the very first of us to settle on this planet, such a long time ago.”

“We have our ancient stories that are learnt during our school days and also a little solid information that survived the catastrophe. On this we have survived and because of the Keepers none has been lost. But I am telling more than you should know before you are taken to meet the Senior Keepers.”

Shara finished her gentle mental chat.

At the very same moment the movement of the seated Keeper before me caught my eye. He rose directly to his feet in a slow controlled manner, smiled directly at me and gently waved an arm signalling that we should follow him to the far end of the anteroom. He waved his arm yet again at a blank side-wall, which at first became misty then dissolved completely. This was not a door that opened by a simple touch but a wall that dissolved by a simple wave.

We passed though it in a single line, one behind the other, Shara to the rear.

The corridor we were now in was dimly lit and most narrow incapable of accommodating two people stood side by side. The floor did not move here and we walked for several more minutes, the saffron robed Keeper leading, me behind and with Sharon to the rear.

Then we stopped suddenly and I was almost sandwiched; the Keeper turned to me and warmly smiled at my near collision. He had a sense of humour that I thought bode well. After a short, smiling pause, the Keeper started to step forward slowly and motioned for us to follow him.

We were now in a room slightly larger than the anteroom we had only just left behind. The walls were decorated with what I recalled from holidays way back on Earth. I could only describe them as hanging kilims of many intricate patterns and of a type I had seen several times in Turkey. The floor was covered by a deep, soft carpet of similar visual design.

Three Senior Keepers were sat to the left; their backs to the most beautiful of the kilims, if that were possible, on a group of large decorated cushions. Their loose saffron robes glowed it seemed in this gently lit room in and were drawn together at the waist by a soft golden rope. They were wearing sandals that appeared to be of a similar golden rope construction. I was drawn by a compulsion to notice the detail of their appearance including their warm smiles and their smooth, bare, shaved heads. They were all looking in our direction, not as the Keeper we first encountered and had brought us here.

The saffron coloured robe of the central figure, seated between the other two, changed colour very subtly to a sort of reddish tint. The robes of the two outer figures remained unchanged in saffron. We were directed by a subtle wave of the central figure’s hand to the series of plump decorated cushions in front of all three. The Keeper that had brought us here, Shara and myself were being invited to be seated. We settled down with me central between Shara and the Keeper.

The three Senior Keepers smiled warmly at each of us in turn almost with a hint of humour but most definitely with a sense of deep wisdom that communicated itself easily. I had to note that their smiles were that of young men yet they were clearly many years older than I was. I found it hard not to respond in similar kind and I smiled back openly despite my initial nervousness; this just seemed to fade away in their presence.

My thoughts turned to the Buddhist monks back on earth, for whom they would have easily been mistaken and specifically of the Dalai Lama whose presence could easily be sitting opposite me. The central Senior Keeper, who I had to take as the most senior of them, must have caught some impression of my thoughts as his smile broadened into a wide grin and his head nodded in confirmation.

He then turned his gaze at Shara and appeared to request her input without uttering a word. Why did I think he would speak?

Shara nodded slightly and I felt her presence again within my thoughts.

“Ian, you have already created a beneficial impression with the Senior Keepers from the wandering of your thoughts to the Buddhist monks of your people back on Earth. They have not fully understood your thoughts, as they were yet not able to follow your language fully, but they did receive an impression of your emotions; they were pleasantly surprised.”

“Whilst their role here is not the same as those monks back on Earth, there is most definitely a link which was detected through your emotional response. What I will do now is something very similar to what happened when we first met but this time I will act as an intermediary only.”

“As I connect you I will stand aside, mentally, and your communication will appear to be direct with the Senior Keepers who are keen to connect with you.”

“Are you agreeable to this Ian?” she asked me.

“But of course,” I replied. “I have come a long way to be shy now.”

I found myself being a little humorous but was this really the time or place? Before I could offer an apology for this indiscretion another voice entered into my thought, a soft gently toned but clear voice most unlike Shara’s or even Caterin’s.

“I understand Ian; a little humour is fine and most acceptable. Be yourself and we will learn much more of each other. A little humour can be most informative and provide another sort of window into your soul, which is where we would like to go.”

The soft, measured voice I heard was almost that of a young person but with wisdom most surely coming from the experience of age. A connection had been made and I had not noticed. Without any effort I realised that I was being communicated with by the central, most Senior of the Senior Keepers.

“That is correct Ian, does that bother you?” I was asked by the same youthful voice.

I glanced at Shara whose eyes were now closed as she sat motionless and facially expressionless in some sort of trance-like state. I turned my gaze back to the central Senior Keeper whose infectious smile wiped away any doubts I may have had and caused a similar smile to break across my own face.

“I consider it a privilege Sir,” I responded with the only words of respect I could muster.

“Please tell me what you wish to know and I will do my best to find the appropriate answers.”

“Through Shara we have access into all your thoughts and memories but will not go where you do not wish us to. We are very aware that you may be disturbed a little but please try to relax, we mean no harm or upset, merely to communicate and understand.”

The voice seemed to carry many different intonations and inflections but always with the youthfulness, the wisdom and an innate sense of joy that I could not somehow put a label on. The closest I could approximate to was, again, that of the great man, the Dalai Lama. Although I had only ever seen him on television he always seemed, whenever he spoke, to have a humorous youthfulness in his voice yet carrying the wisdom of many ages.

A warmth came over me, not the loving warmth of Shara, but a deep, understanding, wisdom filled embrace of an older person, perhaps that of a lovely old Uncle.

“I understand the comparison with your Earthly monks, Ian. I sense a degree of empathy, a symbiotic connection somehow between us. Your monks are what you would, no doubt, describe as religious, not something we could find agreement upon, but they do have some eternal truths embedded within their teachings which are common with our own understanding.”

“Have you seen this in my thoughts?” I asked. “I did not sense that I had been through the same experience as I did upon meeting Shara.”

“We have access to all your thoughts,” he replied, “not only because Shara accessed them herself on your first meeting but also because she, shall we say, modified your developed mind. This also because of how she joined with you, now allowing us access to it with little effort. Does that answer your question?”

I nodded simply in confirmation that it did and I could not help smiling once more.

“We have seen many things from your memories of life on Earth. We have accessed possibly more than you can yourself recall and we have seen how it is that you came to us.”

“There is something else within you Ian,” he continued.

“Something that provides you from time to time with a connection to another place, that we are aware you have described as the Universal Consciousness. This is a rare ability that, in you, has come as a result of many generations of development from the initial genetic modifications of your species by ours.”

“How can you know all this?” I asked astounded that he knew of the work of the Settlers from so long ago.

“Because you wrote it in a book, did you not? Because you have had this confirmed by our people on your planet, did you not?”

“All of your memories and thoughts are now within us, all three of us. My good friends sat next to me are able to see and digest everything of which I become aware. They and I are as one, we have been so for many, many years.”

“The voice you hear is not entirely mine,” he continued.

“It belongs to all of us. We think and speak as one. Do you understand fully now Ian?”

He finished this rhetorical question with a broad grin that broke freely into a chuckle; a youth filled chuckle that I had heard several times before from that great man back on Earth. I now understood why it had seemed at first to be so strange, this youthful chuckle from such a man of wisdom.

“Very correct Ian,” he spoke to me again. “With age, wisdom and the understanding that comes from seeking truthful answers, there also comes youthfulness. There comes a realisation that such wisdom is but the first step on the path to a fuller understanding, the first and each step is of a young mind seeking answers.”

“The more questions that you ask of yourself and of the world in which you live, the greater becomes that understanding but also with it comes the realisation that you truly are only at the beginning of the process of seeking wisdom; this then becomes the search of an ever more youthful mind.”

“The more wisdom that you seek, the greater your questioning and the more you can find answers to your questions, then the more that you will come to realise that there is even much more for you to seek and to come to know.”

“With each answer the mind realises that it is but young. In its search for more questions and for more answers the extent of its youthfulness is realised increasingly so. And so it goes on for as long as you may live in this world of your physical existence.”

Another broad smile, breaking quickly into a chuckle, completed the lesson on wisdom that I had just received.

“We, as a people, have lived here for many, many generations,” his or was it their voices, continued; I guessed the latter.

“After surviving the catastrophe, we continued hoping that some day we would be remembered and be still alive, that someone might come to rescue us, to leave the desolation of a once beautiful planet. This has been a dream, a continuing folk lore, and a prediction, a mythical story of the coming of a saviour, passed on and elaborated over many thousands of years amongst the ordinary people.”

“That dream was given great significance when a probe sent by your planet communicated with the last vestige of our computer system and initiated the departure of one of the Arks circling our planet. This was forecast in your writings and has now led to you being here to lead the Exodus.”

“You have brought our dream to fruition, but for us it has come too late.”

I wondered why he said that but a reply was not forthcoming for the present and the words continued as I listened carefully.

“The planet you see at the surface is not the one, as you know, that existed before the catastrophe. We have seen many pictures and some recordings of how it looked that have survived down here with us from so long ago. We have seen that our planet was a beautiful place but this is something we will never experience and it has always been a great sadness to us all.”

“We are aware from your thoughts and also those of Shara’s, you experienced a great vision when you first set foot on the dry surface. We do not know how this came to be and we are not aware that any of us has ever experienced the same; there are still many things we do not understand.”

“It would please us greatly if you would permit us to share directly in your experience using your memories which are still most fresh. We can tell that the events of this vision are still very sharp in your mind but to gain access to everything your senses experienced, so that we may share the same as though we were there, we must ask your permission to allow Shara to create a more direct link between us all again, acting as an intermediary.”

“You will relive the cross melding of minds once again, as you did with Shara but a little more intensely; are you agreeable to this?”

I saw no issues, the first time had not befuddled me when the vision was over, I had not become stressed by the experience and in fact it had been most pleasurable. I agreed immediately to relive events all over again.

“This will be our great privilege Ian and we thank you. It will be something we will live with for the short period of time you have left on this planet. When you leave we will not be with you, we are to stay here for a great reason that includes for our physical death.”

“We will explain later but for now please take what we say to you on trust for I assure you that it is true.”

The earlier comment that the Exodus had come too late for the most senior of persons, the Senior Keepers, made a little more sense. Why they were not coming with us however, when the whole process seemed to be running smoothly I did not understand for the present.

“All will be explained to you in due course, but first let us share in your vision that we may gain strength from it so that we can undertake what we have determined is our destiny and will be for the sake of our people.”

“Please relax Ian and this will proceed nicely.”

I did as I was asked as the first warmth of the mind melding that I had undergone with Shara started to encompass my very being. At first this meld process started with Shara although her physical person moved not a fraction; she remained very still and without facial expression as the intensity increased.

The swirling golden aura I now expected encapsulated my thoughts, my very existence and I gave myself to it willingly. The warmth, the love within the encircling, the questions and the acceptance all came together within the singularity of a spherical golden glow.

I started to see what Shara was seeing through her unblinking eyes, her view of the Senior Keepers and me. I felt that I was Shara, her femininity coursing through my body; no it was her body that I seemed to inhabit and was sensing. No longer taken by surprise as the first time this occurred I allowed myself the pleasure of indulgence, of being another, not myself, not even male nor indeed female, and then it progressed.

The golden warm glow through which I was travelling, though perfectly still, took on a brilliance that would have made my eyes burn were this to be within my natural sight and not only within my mind. The brilliance was all pervading, changing colour from the golden to saffron to a reddish tint, to a new incredibly intense saffron, the colour now of the Keepers’ robes, the colour of a greater vision swirling gently. Momentarily I was a Keeper and I was seeing myself sat before me in an almost trance like state. My body was surrounded by a gentle white aura as was Shara’s alongside me.

This extended itself, as might an early morning mist, surrounding all who sat here as one, not simply as a mist but as a singularity of existence. Such a beautiful feeling of being young yet old, no, being ancient, no even older still to a time so long ago, long before I had been born, to a much more ancient time, yet of today. I knew instinctively, or was it from what I was being told that this was my ancestral lineage, from the first moments of an extended intelligence brought to fruition by a DNA manipulation.

I saw and felt my present existence here not only in this oneness but also as a chain of lineage all the way back to my ancient forebears. I was viewing a tremendous lineage spanning thousands of years but this was not only mine, it was also of those with whom I was sat. This was an intertwined journey of all six of us, at one moment confusingly complex yet then so beautifully clear and well understood.

I was being taken into a reality of which I had no experience yet somehow had become inherently familiar. I knew who I was and I was aware also of being a part of those with whom I was alive, here and now. I had been shown something, which I could not explain, yet appeared so simply in my thoughts. I knew instinctively that I could explain all of this but possibly only to others of a similar wisdom and experience; to anyone else I would probably need more than a lifetime to offer an explanation.

My presence separated from the others, the saffron swirl started to dissolve, but the view was not of my companions, perhaps only my minds eye, or was it another reality in which I now stood?

Slowly I was coming to see the start of my journey from the top of the rise, before the trees, as the saffron mist dissolved away but yet obscured my view. I had half expected to find the view change fully from that through Shara’s eyes to those of the Senior Keepers but I was not taken that way. I was taken to start my vision again but there were others present with me; five other minds and my own become as one. I had not been granted the privilege of seeing through the Senior Keepers eyes for very long but had instead been allowed to glimpse a generational relationship between our different races. I had become one with them and with Shara.

They were not looking at events as if from me alone. I was but a meld of many seeing minds grouped together as a single viewer at the start of experiencing past events afresh. I had no control over recalling what had happened previously and was now to see, sense, smell and touch everything, almost as a passenger to the voyage of five others.

Finding myself going through the same experience as when we first met, I saw myself briefly through Shara’s eyes. Then the saffron to white misty swirl cleared momentarily and then, almost imperceptibly at first, I found myself, somehow, becoming a part of the Senior Keepers’ minds looking out of their eyes at Shara and myself. I was now all three Senior Keepers at once, a singularity of three minds, but then, in an instant, there was now only myself stood on the grassy rise. I was alone but pleasantly so.

I had reason to be here, to meet with my love, yet I was still myself, not the person of my vision, not yet. Moreover, there was something else, a connection to another place that I knew I had never directly experienced before but had always suspected existed and perhaps had even influenced the direction of my life. A connection was being made without effort on my part. This was not the doing of the Senior Keepers nor of Shara, it had to be something within me that was connecting to something without, some other place.

I had never experienced this before, even on the Earth where I had been privy to a few ‘supernatural’ events and I had to assume that something else was occurring. Was my mind opening to a connection that I had seen a few people on Earth claim to be occurring with them? I was wide-awake, not going into a trance or anything remotely similar. I just felt as though a door was opening in front of me somewhere, but not a door I could see through, not even a door I could describe, but I knew that as it was opened, someone on the other side of it was going to speak to me.

I knew it was another place but I knew nothing but that which I heard, a gentle voice speaking slowly and quietly to me or was it to us all, but I was all, we were all, it didn’t matter to whom but it was there. The words were unclear at first but speaking so gently that the person could have been in the same room as I was or perhaps we were. This, I was being told, was communication from a place I had often called the Universal Consciousness or of late, 'Another Place', the place from which much information had been provided to me when writing that book of mine. The place from which I felt I was taking dictation of another’s creativity, perhaps history or even future events.

This had to be the place from where, perhaps, I had been guided safely and gently in taking the actions that I had or would still. I knew instinctively from where this voice was coming as the words cleared and I heard them all, directed at me, from a lady whose love had once embraced me and was doing so again but this time to everyone with whom I was melded, if that was possible. It was the lady by the lake, my love of the vision, the vision of my love, but not just to me, but also to whomever I had become in those early moments, the person who strode down the hill through the pines to the lakes edge.

“You have become what you were once before Ian,” the clearest of gentle voices spoke to me from I knew not where but by the name of ‘Another Place’.

“My sweetest love,” that gentle voice continued.

“In our younger days and even when we were joined as one couple we would meet like this as often as we could. After the great and sad catastrophe we could meet here no more, as we had departed to this other place, still together after our physical existence was terminated.”

“But then you were taken from me in this other place, so long ago, to be born physically again and again but now on the Earth. There eventually to become the person you are now, to be the catalyst that drove the great rescue mission for the last of our kind still alive in the physical world.”

“I was aware of your return and I was allowed just once more to briefly take your mind on the journey that you always took for our meetings of love in such a wonderful place.”

I tried to see the face from which the sweet voice surely emanated but I could not take my sight away from the direction that I was required to travel. It was not far to see, I was sure, merely a short view away but my eyes, my mind or perhaps both were not attuned to such a task; I could only listen as those others with me were also listening. This was a direction that I had never travelled before, communicating with those of the other place. Perhaps the changes my mind had undergone, possibly even predestined, were bringing forward talents anew.

“I cannot give to you again what I have already provided but you can give your memories, as fresh as they may be, to those learned people who wish to see and feel what it was that you saw and felt.”

“Do not be afraid for I am with you as I always have been. I will always be with you, to keep you from harm and to comfort you for all of your days until at last, your destiny fulfilled, we are joined once more as one.”

“I will depart from your senses for the present, but be assured that we will meet once again here in this other place when the time is right. You will return to me and I will always be waiting for you, my love.”

Her voice gently ebbed away as did the golden and saffron glow in my thoughts.

The sensation of her love persisted and I felt the connection gently break with a heavy heart. I had sensed or been allowed to sense the other place of our continued existence after physical death. I felt a great warmth at such confirmation of this continued reality and now understood why perhaps, the words of my writing had seemed to come to me so easily from time to time.

I refocused to the present, to the immediate situation and could sense that four other minds of some tolerance had been with me throughout but now wished to know of the beauty of their planet as it once had been. I had to let my memories come to the fore, to let them be taken without hindrance, to stand back for these other minds to commence their journey through me.

For yet a second time I was once again stood at the top of the rise looking down the slope to where the proud pine forest stood, between me and the lake of sweet water and the sweetness of my waiting love. But it was no longer me that stood there; I was merely absorbing the senses of the person that had really stood looking downwards as were the other five presences. I was myself but I was not.

What a gorgeous day. The sun was shining; it was pleasantly warm standing in its direct rays. There were a few cotton drifts of clouds skating gently across the clear blue expanse and all felt well on such an entrancing spring afternoon.

I really loved these types of days and not just for the pleasant weather, there was much, much more to these very special of days.

I started on the downward journey with the scent of beautiful herbs exciting my sense of smell. I entered the expanse of woodland at the top of the slope away from the direct warmth of the sun and into the coolness of the shade with an emotion phrased by an anticipatory elation building increasingly-so within me.

I could still realise that I was re-living the vision of my landing but I just had to let it run its course, almost as a bystander. I had to watch as my experience developed, smelling the same woodland aromas of pine and herbs wafting upwards with the warm gentle breezes of the day while stepping carefully over the thick carpet of soft pine needles. To see the glint of sunlight on gentle lapping waves, then feel the heat of the fine sand between my toes only for it to be assuaged by the cool lapping water of the shallows as I moved forward in delicious anticipation.

All the while this was happening there was the feeling, the all-embracing sweet, fragrant odour of her presence within her distinct aura that was calling to me, wishing me on.

This time I did not stub my toe, nor did the vision break; it was moving forward to a place where I had not been. How this could be I could not explain but I felt such an explosion of happiness inside me that I was being allowed to continue the journey. I continued to splash happily through the cool waters until at the cave entrance I came face to face at last with the lady of my love, the one who had created the aura of love that had teased me so as I approached.

There before me smiling gently, her diaphanous gown draped easily over her shoulders, down to bare feet and with soft delicate hands reaching up to cup my face so gently in a moment of pure love, was a face I knew, a face I recognised, but surely also a face I should recognise, the lady of my love. But the face was that of Caterin, but subtly and most gently different from the same lady leading the project in a different reality.

The ancestor of the lady in my book that had started this whole adventure, the same distinct features, the elongated skull draped with chestnut brown hair, the beauteous set of a face that was hard to describe. A recognition then swelled inside of the young girl and the older lady I had rescued, all with these same features yet each subtly different, a recognition that I was looking at Caterin, yet I could not be.

“I am the mother of the lady of your book Ian,” the voice from the other place came again through my senses, so softly as an almost final sweet whisper into my thoughts, as I gazed upon the face before me. “The lady of your book was our child Ian. She was selected to leave here but we were not.” These, her final, gently-whispered words, faltered slightly as her sweet ethereal voice and the vision before me now drifted away, and the door closed.

I was aware that I was back in the small room with Shara sitting most still and the three Senior Keepers who were likewise also most still, but gently smiling no more. I knew that they were clearly inward looking, perhaps searching and perhaps touching something that I could not.

I did not need to search for I now knew what it was about Caterin, my project leader that had always fascinated me so. She was the descendant, over many thousands of years, of the young lady who had been selected to escape before the catastrophe struck leaving her parents, of which I had been one, not in my present life but in the one so, so long ago; the life, that had momentarily given me so much pleasure and love on this beautiful planet.

From my existence in the other place I had been sent to the Earth through incarnation, reincarnation, again and again until I reached the existence of Ian, the author, the genetically modified, the first and the most appropriate to return to this my home planet and experience briefly what had once been and the love that had waited so long for my return.

A circle was closing and new warmth pervaded my very being.