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Tuesday, July 30, 2019


Existential angst, imaginary feelings, dread fabrications

Teetering on the edge of the abyss, descending in the deep, grasping at straws like the drunken on the ego

The painful awareness of getting ahead of yourself, convincing yourself that anything is good…or good enough

If you believe it

Does the burning in your guts satisfy you now?

Do you believe it?

Joy is yours if you desire it, and sorrow waits around the corner if you desire anything at all

You are not alone

This is the human condition

Stand in the presence of God, voice raised in song, a clarion of love

Listen and remember

In what chamber of your heart did you hide the key, the secret of eternity

Fumbling through the webs of uncertainty, stumbling, lost and forgotten on the event-horizon

Stretched in the timeless moment of doubt

Monday, July 29, 2019

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.


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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