Seven Point Eight The First Chronicle

18

Long Way From Home

The schematics for the machine were close to the idea portrayed in my dream, although I made a few major modifications. The dream acted as an instigator, an initial piece of inspiration that would lead me to developing a tool that would take us to the stars.

I stuck with the pyramid shape, because it probably channelled energy in some way and plus, it looked good. The acoustic filtering wasn’t necessary, considering the technology I’d be using. The original ancient design had used objects like Helmholtz Resonators in the grand gallery, which work on the same principle as blowing over the neck of an empty bottle. By altering the size and shape of the neck, different tones can be produced. However, I had the benefit of well calibrated oscillators, which would generate the resonance.

In the ancient machine, quartz crystal in the walls of the pyramid converted acoustic resonance into energy, more specifically, electromagnetic energy. A magnetic field could be created quite easily with modern technology, which would rotate around the occupants of the machine and pulse at the frequency of 7.8 hertz, which I believe was the output of the quartz crystal.

Oscillators would produce the harmonic frequencies that I had yet to discover. I hoped the solution to this mystery wouldn’t stall me too long, but it seemed logical they were based around multiples of 7.8.

As the resonance would need to be contained, I designed dampeners to surround the pyramid without affecting the internal acoustics. Because the chamber would be completely swathed, I’d need to set up a cine camera system to monitor Tahra, and an external control booth. I’d also set up instrumentation to measure the magnetic field, especially during testing, when I’d use live animals to be ensure the safety of the field before putting Tahra in there. Furthermore, there’d be both an Electro-Encephalogram (EEG) to measure brain wave output, and an Electro-Cardiogram (ECG) to monitor her heart rate throughout.

The question of alignment crossed my mind, as the Giza pyramid matched the points of the compass. I decided to replicate this in my design, as maybe it had something to do with an alliance of sorts with the Earth’s magnetic field.

The last thing I’d need was a building large enough to accommodate it, and the funding to build and run it. This last factor was the most crucial, and one where external assistance needed to be sought.

Max was due to return in about three weeks so, during that time, I researched and wrote an extensive proposal to take to him personally. This had evolved into a big project now, and I felt confident it would take OOBE to another world, literally. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be too difficult to persuade Max and because he was a man with finances at his disposal, I needed to impress him. I decided to be responsible for most of the technical labour, to cut down on some of the expenses. The wait for his return became excruciating, I longed to start building today.

Time passed relatively quickly. In Max’s absence, I managed to source materials and potential buildings, but OOBE couldn’t gather momentum without him. I played around with the oscillators, although I couldn’t practise creating the necessary field. What the ancient machine had demonstrated was the application of both resonance and magnetic fields to drag consciousness from the body, and propel it beyond current boundaries, so this is what I needed to focus on getting right.

Finally, Max returned from the States and I didn’t hesitate in setting up an appointment. There were a further two weeks in which to prepare for a presentation, and therefore two weeks to feel extremely nervous and worry like crazy. Tahra kept me sane, preventing self doubt which could have destroyed my enthusiasm.

The meeting took place at The Institute. Oscar and George were pleased to see me, and keen to hear about Project OOBE. In the early stages of my tender, I remained careful to keep it zipped for the time being, making polite conversation with them until Max called me through.

He seemed quite relaxed and more at ease with himself this time, although he said nothing about his trip to the States. I placed a typed proposal before him and he picked it up, eyes lighting up when he read the title – ‘Accelerating Remote Viewing Capabilities Through the Application of Harmonic Acoustic Resonance and Electromagnetic Fields’. He raised an eyebrow at me.

“Divine inspiration,” I explained.

He read the proposal thoroughly and I felt incredibly nervous as he did so, wondering if he’d find the whole thing preposterous. I watched him nod occasionally, raise an eyebrow or scratch his chin, then he placed my proposal down on the table.

“Looks like you’ve been busy lately,” he commented.

I nodded. “Although Project OOBE has been successful so far, I believe it has the potential to go further.”

Max considered my comment and proceeded to ask further questions.

“You’ve associated the resonant frequency of 7.8 with projection of consciousness?”

“Yes,” I began enthusiastically, “I think it’s highly significant in terms of what Tahra, Oscar, and George can do. The frequency alone appears to enhance the process, although as yet, it hasn’t enabled us to leave the solar system.”

Max raised an eyebrow.

“And leaving the solar system is your objective?”

“Absolutely, I believe there’s life out there and this project may enable us to establish contact. Tahra has remote viewed most of the planets in our solar system, achieving far more than either the Americans or Soviets in the Space Race. The US only achieved their first space walk about three months ago, and they’re not even anywhere near ready to land on the Moon yet.”

“Although,” Max countered, “your evidence is still subjective.”

I nodded, reluctantly.

“Yes. Tahra’s experiences are the only evidence I have, as yet.”

“You do realise,” Max continued, “that for this to be of value, you need to show these results are valid and reliable with a range of participants.”

“Eventually, I plan on extending the project to test the effects of the resonance and field on the other subjects at The Institute.” It was more of a question, as I ended the statement with an inflection. Would he allow that?

“It would be interesting to see if they’d be able to remote view under these conditions. But,” he continued, “I was thinking more of an application for people who have, in fact, no psychic or extraordinary abilities.”

This is something I hadn’t yet considered, would it even be possible?

“That would certainly make the project very…valuable to the scientific community,” I agreed.

Max returned to perusing my proposal. I suffered a moment of silence as he prepared another question.

“You wish to apply a combination of harmonic acoustic resonance and electromagnetic fields,” he commented.

“Yes, I believe it ‘fine tunes’ consciousness, focuses it like a laser beam,” I explained.

“You mean, it gives the remote viewer greater focus in their abilities, greater…power?” he postulated.

“This is what I believe.”

“And it could give an ordinary person the ability to do this too?”

“That would be desirable,” I stated with conviction. “I’ll test it on myself if I have to.”

“Will you test this new machine thoroughly before Tahra goes in?” he asked, on a more serious note.

His fatherly concern surprised me, as I’d become so accustomed to his cool demeanour.

“Yes, I give you my assurance that she’ll be well looked after.”

He seemed relieved, but then a little confused.

“Where is she anyway? She doesn’t seem to be around, and Miss Tynedale told me she’s been conspicuously absent when not required at The Establishment.”

I wondered whether he questioned me about any involvement with Tahra, or just simply wondered about her whereabouts. How would he react if I told him she was safe with me, in my cottage, in my bed…?

I shrugged. “She’s a grown woman and as long as she turns up for testing, I don’t ask what she does.”

I hoped he couldn’t see through my lie. He still looked perplexed, and I began to feel uncomfortable.

“Be sure to encourage her to return to The Institute,” he said, nervously. “This is her home.”

“It’s…a demanding project,” I explained. “There’s a lot of follow up.”

He seemed to ease up and so did I. It felt disconcerting when he asked such questions, as I’ve never regarded myself as a good liar.

“I’ll ring you with my decision,” he said. “I need to discuss it with the committee. They’ll want an assurance this project will bring dividends.”

Leaving The Institute, my nerves needed soothing with a drink of Tahra’s presence. Arriving home at my cottage, I paced the floor, watched by Tahra. Would Max and the committee and gave the go ahead, or allow my project to gather dust on a shelf somewhere?

***

“Come on, tell me,” Tahra pleaded, “this is agonising!”

After replacing the receiver, I stood still, trying to digest the news that Max had just delivered. She practically jumped around on the spot, desperate for me to put her out of his misery. Without warning, I grabbed her by the waist and picked her up, spinning her round.

“He gave us the go ahead!”

She let loose a little squeal of excitement.

“Really?”

“Really. Project culminates October 1967.”

“Not long after I graduate,” she commented.

“Something you’ll still definitely do,” I added. “I’m not going to interfere. You study, while I build and test.”

“Okay,” she agreed, a little sing song.

I put her down and questioned her about something that had been bugging me.

“Max is asking about you,” I said.

She looked a little sheepish and I raised my eyebrows.

“I…haven’t told him I’m here,” she stated.

“Neither did I, he doesn’t know about our relationship either.”

She looked at the floor, shifting awkwardly on her feet.

“Good,” she mumbled.

I became suspicious at her reaction.

“Is there something you’re not telling me?” I asked, lifting her chin with my fingers and looking her in the eye.

She returned my gaze and looked hesitant, then smiled.

“No,” she replied, simply.

I paused, unsure if she spoke the truth or not. Sensing my scepticism, she kissed me reassuringly.

“He’s my sponsor. I’m here because of Max and he feels very protective towards me. He made a promise to my father, and it’s a promise he can’t break.”

I nodded. Still, a gut feeling insisted I’d rather he didn’t know about us.

***

Although I felt terrible lying to Paul, I couldn’t tell him about Max and me. Neither could I allow Max to find out about my relationship with Paul, as I knew the result wouldn’t be a pretty sight. Even though I had closure, he’d be jealous and angry because he viewed me as his possession. However, was I foolish to believe I could keep it from him? I decided to nip things in the bud and stay at The Institute more often. Max would surely stop asking questions, and I could study there when Paul didn’t need me for testing or moral support.

At first, I tried to hide in my room to avoid Max as much as possible. When he saw me again, I sensed he still had intentions towards me, and he didn’t know things had changed. It pained me to keep this a secret, it wasn’t fair, I’d found the right man and couldn’t share that with the world. Sometimes, Max brushed past me on the stairs after breakfast, perhaps hoping for an opportunity to say something, but he chose to maintain a professional air instead. At least I had my study and the new Beatles album to keep me occupied, although ironically, my favourite song was ‘You’ve Got To Hide Your Love Away’. It was especially poignant, and even Max looked pensive when he heard it. I felt relieved to get back to the project with Paul.

Project OOBE had become much bigger than either of us had envisioned, and I think Paul found the pressure quite stressful. He’d viewed some properties prior to Max’s return and once he had the go ahead, he paid a substantial deposit on a farmhouse in Wiltshire, that came with a large barn and a few outbuildings. The funds promised by Max would cover the cost of refurbishing the barn which would contain the machine and control centre, plus, convert the outbuildings into basic living quarters when intensive testing began. The house itself felt cosy and adequate, and the nearby train station would enable me to return to London for university or The Institute. Paul moved out of the cottage and it returned to Max for letting, so he could concentrate full time on the machine.

Builders began the conversion of the barn on the 28th of October 1965, ten days before my twenty-first birthday. Due to the pressures of the conversion, Paul and I dined at a restaurant, which didn’t require him to take time off. I understood the importance of the project, and his companionship meant more than a romantic break.

Sometimes, I relaxed in front of the TV while he worked late into the night. Pursuing his dream tired him, but it gave him the purpose he so desperately sought and to extract him from the passion that consumed him seemed wrong.

One night, I watched a documentary about protests. The programme began with the ‘ban the bomb’ demonstration of 1958 in Trafalgar Square, where around sixty to a hundred thousand protesters brought counterculture to the world’s attention. It gave an overview of the principles underlying the movement: a love of nature, independence and distrust of governments, and their instruments of order such as the police. It discussed the baby boomer era, driven by young, affluent and disillusioned people, their use of psychedelic drugs, the creation of the contraceptive pill which heralded a new freedom and sexual revolution for women, and the breaking away from the constraints of the fifties. The programme concluded with Bob Dylan singing ‘The Times They Are a Changin’.

I think some of the principles raised struck a chord with me, in particular feminism, and I realised that I agreed with the growing school of independent thought in women. I had no intentions of having my life dictated by a man, and abhorred the idea of domestic slavery. I was living the life I’d always secretly wanted, one of freedom and self expression, and this project cemented that ambition.

The documentary exemplified the decade and culture in which I became an adult, and in many ways, this era perhaps shaped my personality, emphasising the more rebellious, free spirited, and spiritual aspects of my nature that would probably have been more dormant if I’d remained in the Middle East, or lived in the fifties. I felt vindicated, not the odd one out anymore.

The next day, I returned The Institute, while Paul acted as project manager and six weeks later, the barn had water and an electric supply, plus the basic structure of the machine took form. He worked with a technician for the next six weeks to create the machine itself and set up the control booth, the technical equipment and the ‘pyramid’, an enclosure in which I’d be exposed to the resonance and electromagnetic field. Paul explained the dampeners installed around the exterior to contain ‘the field’, and how I’d be monitored throughout the experiments. It gave him great pleasure to see his vision come alive, and I felt proud to be a part of something so ground breaking.

While the building work progressed, I divided my time between university, the farmhouse and The Institute, quite a juggling feat. At the time, I strived to keep everyone happy: Paul, Max, the university, and myself. Staying at The Institute made it easier to focus on the essays and exams, but I missed Paul. I used the local phone box at first to stay in touch with him and hear the latest on the building work, but after a while, Max let me use the office telephone and respected me enough not to listen in on the conversations. Afterwards, he enquired about the progress, and sometimes glanced at me with a sad look in his eyes. I longed to see Paul to take my mind off these uncomfortable situations.

Eventually, Paul had some good news to announce. I arrived at the farmhouse one day in February 1966, and he unveiled his pride and joy. I felt as ecstatic as he did. The time had arrived to run the machine without a participant.

Project OOBE was green to go. One day, in the not too distant future, I’d step into that machine and reach for the stars.

***

Paul decided to conduct the first test of his machine on his birthday, as it detracted from the fact the years marched on. Standing in the mirror, he turned his head from side to side, raised his eyebrows up and down, and repeatedly smiled at his reflection.

“Am I getting old?” he asked Tahra, as she watched with some amusement.

“No, of course not. You’re dignified and noble,” she replied, kissing him sweetly. “Happy birthday.”

She reached under the bed and pulled out a gift in wrapping paper, handing it to him. Delighted with the surprise, he tore off the paper and discovered a striped shirt inside, which was made of silk. Holding it against him while looking in the mirror, he let loose a satisfied smile.

“Thanks,” he said, immediately removing the shirt he’d already put on and exchanging it for the one Tahra had bought him. “I’m glad you didn’t choose anything my father would wear.”

“You’re not old!” I like the wisdom of an older man, it makes me feel secure. A few grey hairs and crow’s feet goes with the territory.”

“Well, you make me feel young inside, that’s what counts, and I love you for it.”

After breakfast, comprising tea and a rack of toast, Paul unveiled the machine barn with an impersonation of a trumpet fanfare. Almost squealing with excitement, Tahra wandered around inside, finding it difficult to see anything in the darkness. With trepidation, he switched on the lights and they flickered into life, revealing the machine and the control booth, which sat behind a screen of reinforced glass.

An object of metallic beauty stood before them, a majestic pyramid finished in polished silvery shielding designed to contain the field. It possessed no windows, but had interior lighting, cameras, and apparatus to monitor heart rate and brain waves. Inside, Tahra found it surprisingly spacious and she saw thirteen reclining seats fixed in a circle. This morning, he’d placed some sensing equipment in the middle, set up to measure the field.

They sat in the control booth, full of rows of lights, buttons, and dials. Machines linked up with the heart and brain wave monitors inside the pyramid, plus screens which relayed information from the cameras, providing Paul with feedback on his participants.

Once he’d closed the hatch on his machine, he took a deep breath and powered it up. He activated the oscillators, although it took a few minutes for them to come online and reach the correct intensity. The frequencies fired up in a certain sequence, beginning with the highest and finishing with the final and lowest, yet the most important – 7.8. Each frequency had a slider control and bank of lights. When he felt satisfied with their performance, he activated the pulsed magnetic field but sustained it at thirty percent.

At this point, Tahra edged closer to him and squeezed his hand. Glancing away from the bank of controls, he looked over at her, and realised how nervous she appeared. He appreciated her concern, and diverted his attention to the operation of the machine again.

The bank of controls gave him feedback about the field within the machine, and the cine cameras allowed him to look inside. He observed a slight vibration of the machine’s shell, and nodded in appreciation.

“I’ve gotta say,” he said, “the weather looks good in there.”

Tahra nodded in agreement, as it did indeed.

***

The first operation of the machine progressed smoothly, with no electrical problems, no hassles, and no glitches. The conditions inside appeared to be conducive to Paul’s expectations. He tested the machine with no participants for ten days, progressively making the field stronger until by day ten, it ran at sixty-five percent. The vibration of the machine’s shell surprised him, but it presented no problem, it was simply a side effect.

After running it empty, he needed to begin testing the safety of the field on living organisms. Paul had a fair stock of laboratory animals and began with a plastic tank of mice. If Tahra had been there, she would have been horrified. With the mice inside, he ran the field at thirty percent and observed the mice closely, then, finding no obvious deleterious effects, he increased the field to fifty percent. They were exposed for five minutes, during which they ceased running around until Paul powered down the machine. Checking them, he discovered they were alive and apparently healthy.

For a week afterwards, he monitored the health of the mice and found no ill effects from exposure to the field. Two further batches of mice were tested at field strengths of sixty and sixty-five, an intensity which caused them to stand still but yet, they appeared healthy. In fact, the subsequent batches seemed to be a little smarter, more acute. However, he brushed that aside.

At the end of March 1966, Max arrived to oversee one of the test runs. To compound matters, Tahra was present although Max had phoned ahead, so they were aware of his visit and maintained a professional relationship to keep the peace. Paul noted how awkward Max seemed around Tahra, and how Tahra kept her distance. He couldn’t put his finger on the atmosphere this created and it did raise his suspicions briefly, however, the project took precedent.

Paul intended Project OOBE to step up a gear, so he’d planned an important test to impress Max, who in turn would sing the praises of the machine to the committee. As Max stepped into the machine barn, and Tahra followed him, he decided to introduce his test subject. Paul moved over to a covered cage in the corner of the barn and pulled back the green canvas.

“I’d like to introduce my intrepid explorer, Adam.”

Opening the cage, he allowed a chimpanzee to jump out and took him by the hand. As the first sentient mammal in the machine, no offence to the mice, Paul reached into his pocket and gave him a banana. Adam took it with nonchalance, and allowed Paul to guide him to the pyramidal machine, where he got hooked up to the ECG and EEG.

Once Adam sat on one of the reclining chairs in the machine, Paul closed the hatch and left him to the banana, and the silence. Joining Max and Tahra in the control booth, he activated the frequencies and the pulsed electromagnetic field, which rotated around the circle of seats.

Tahra appeared to be on tenterhooks and Max stood, finger on chin, in his usual reflective pose. Had he seen anything like this before? Paul could only guess what his other projects entailed.

He initialised the field at thirty percent, bringing each of the harmonic frequencies online one at a time, beginning with the highest and culminating with 7.8. All the time he watched Adam, who responded well so far to exposure. The weather looked fine in there and once he felt satisfied Adam experienced no distress, he increased the field intensity to fifty percent.

Max moved closer to the bank of controls, wishing to observe the feedback on the screens. Tahra followed. Adam appeared to be alert and healthy, so Paul increased field intensity to sixty-five, adequate for the time being. He constantly checked Adam’s status, noting his ECG was acceptable. An increase in heart rate didn’t astonish him, but Adam’s EEG proved fascinating. His brain waves had synchronised with the resonance of 7.8 hertz.

What was he experiencing?

Did he have a primate consciousness that separated from his body in the same way that Tahra’s did?

What could he see?

Where did he go?

Max appeared to be satisfied with the early test runs and Tahra seemed transfixed, not surprising as these tests took her closer to her own upcoming journeys.

After powering down, Paul cut the field completely and opened the hatch, releasing Adam. They all walked over to the entrance of the machine, awaiting a response. A long pause ensued, creating worry for all involved. Had Adam recovered from his experience in altered states of consciousness? They held their breath, wishing for a positive conclusion.

Adam ran out, heading straight for Tahra, for some reason. Max flinched as the chimpanzee jumped up to her, but she caught hold of him and let him put his arms around her. From that point on, Adam became very attached to Tahra.

Before he departed, Max gave everything the seal of approval. He and Paul chatted in the farmhouse, discussing how extraordinary the whole thing was: the technical genius of the machine, the professional set up, and so on. Paul noticed him looking around the main living area of the farmhouse, as if seeking evidence of Tahra being more than professionally involved. However, they’d carefully removed any intimate possessions of hers from the main house, and placed them in one of the bedroom conversions in the guest barn. It was best no one at The Institute knew, most of all Max.

Adam and his sister, Eve, were subjected to further testing for the next two weeks, as Paul wanted to be certain there were no ill effects. They were both closely monitored, and all their medicals checked out. If anything, they performed more efficiently in cognitive tests.

More importantly, the status of Adam and Eve meant one thing.

After finishing the final sentence in his report, Paul turned to Tahra.

“You know something?” he asked her.

“What? I’m wonderful?” she joked.

“Well, you are truly wonderful, but I have some news for you. It’s your turn to step into the machine.”

On hearing this announcement, Tahra’s eyes opened wide. Now she had to follow in Adam and Eve’s footsteps. What would she see, and where would she go?

***

Paul sat in the kitchen of their new farmhouse on the morning of her first journey in the machine, reading the newspaper. A pot of tea, along with several slices of toast and jam sat on the table, awaiting Tahra, who showered upstairs. Not long after he finished his breakfast, she joined him at the table, trying to glance at the front page of his paper.

“What’s the story?” she enquired.

“The Moors Murders…Ian Brady and Myra Hindley got life in prison for the horrific killings of Edward Evans, Lesley Ann Downey, and John Kilbride. I can’t understand how people can be so sadistic, torturing and killing kids.”

“I can’t imagine murdering anyone,” Tahra commented, feeling genuine sadness for their demise. “I don’t think I could do it.”

Folding up the paper and putting the world’s misery aside, he leaned over and gave her a morning kiss.

“Help yourself to breakfast, you’ll need the energy today.”

She seemed to have the jitters, which Paul considered entirely normal, as no human had used the machine yet.

“Don’t worry,” he reassured her. “I’m only running the field at thirty percent.”

Tahra sighed, like a child who realised she wasn’t going to get everything she wanted for Christmas.

“Only thirty percent? Why? We know Adam and Eve are perfectly fine. I’m nervous for no good reason now.”

“Impatience is my vice,” Paul replied, “not yours. You must respect my decision.”

She relented and didn’t press further. No point in arguing with the project manager.

The hatch awaited her and she stepped inside, taking a seat and feeling a sense of awe at the journey she’d make. Paul hooked her up to the ECG and EEG, and gave her a kiss for luck. After the hatch had closed, she heard Paul’s voice over the intercom, confirming he could see and hear her. Inside the machine, it fell silent, eerily so.

What had she let herself in for?

“Okay, Tahra,” Paul began, “I’m going to bring everything online, one frequency at a time and the field will run at thirty percent.”

She nodded to indicate she understood. After a few moments, she heard a hum emanating from the machine, then heard the harmonics come on line one at a time. The overall frequency became lower and lower, until it became inaudible. She became aware of the reverberation of the shell of the machine, although it didn’t intimidate her.

A peculiar vibration began to creep through her body, something she’d never experienced before during any of the remote viewing sessions, however, she didn’t resist. The vibration pulsed through her body and she felt a sense of paralysis, which alarmed her, but she reminded herself it would only last five minutes, so no need to panic. She wanted this more than anything.

In the control booth, Paul watched her intently. While she didn’t appear to be totally relaxed, she didn’t look distressed. Her heart rate was elevated but nowhere near maximal. Her brain waves synchronised with the resonance, operating smoothly at 7.8.

Once again, the weather looked good in there.

Meanwhile, inside the machine, Tahra willed her consciousness to move and she felt an immense surge. The visuals were different to anything she’d previously experienced, and she didn’t find herself in Earth orbit or anywhere in the solar system…this was something else.

She saw a net in her field of vision, composed of shimmering hexagons, hundreds of them which were orange in colour. They appeared to hum, or was it just the machine? Before she could progress any further, they faded and she became aware of her body once more. The paralysis and vibration released her and dissolved, making the experience hardly mind-blowing. Paul had powered down the machine.

“Please confirm you’re all right,” he said, over the intercom.

Tahra gave him the thumbs up. He popped the hatch and met her at the opening, finding her somewhat disappointed though.

“That was the shortest trip ever,” she complained.

Paul lifted her chin and gave her a smile, which encouraged her to return one of her own.

“You know we’re dealing with something completely different here,” he explained. “I need to ensure your safety.”

She nodded. “I know, I can’t help but want more, we’ve come so far already.”

“Soon…soon enough.”

“Now I need to know what the grid is,” she informed him.

“The grid?”

She described the grid to him but could offer no opinion on what it was, Paul had no idea either. He found it intriguing, and neither Oscar nor George had ever mentioned one. It would wait until another time. A medical followed the experiment, in which everything checked out so he saw no reason to prevent further exposure in the machine. Forty eight hours elapsed before the next trip and during that time period, Paul made her stay over so he could observe her closely. She took advantage of this opportunity to share his bed, and Paul discovered that in no way did exposure to the machine dull the sex drive.

The duration of the next trip lasted ten minutes, with a field intensity of forty percent, to give her a better chance of exploration. Identical to the first trip, the machine reverberated, and she felt the same tingling vibration, lost awareness of her body, and the grid appeared in her vision again. The hexagons shimmered and almost burnt an impression into her consciousness.

Tahra sensed the same surge as before, when she became detached from her body. This time, however, she rushed towards something. Paul checked her ECG and EEG throughout, finding the same results and synchronisation with the base frequency of 7.8 hertz.

She seemed to hurtle beyond the grid now, as the field continued to exert its influence on her mind. Tahra sensed a point of light in the distance, the focal point against a background of deepest black. She felt a presence, nothing like the spirit of Jupiter, and she couldn’t ascertain its origin. Just as the point of light began to take meaning in an abstract kind of way, the field powered down and she returned to her body. This time, she hid her disappointment from Paul and discussed the point of light. Next time, she’d learn more.

Forty eight hours later, Paul exposed her to the field in the machine for the third time. So far, she’d experienced no side effects and all the medicals checked out. Paul couldn’t justify stalling the next stage any longer.

“I’d like to increase the duration of these trips,” he told her.

“I want twenty minutes this time,” she declared.

“Okay, but I’m not going to take the field intensity beyond fifty percent though.”

“Take it to sixty-five,” Tahra said, with conviction. “Adam and Eve took sixty five, therefore, so can I.”

Paul considered her request. It was a big jump, forty to sixty five. They were getting results at forty and Paul deemed fifty percent satisfactory, but Tahra wouldn’t accept half measures anymore, he knew that. He told himself he’d discovered no evidence to suggest sixty five percent was unsafe. Therefore, Tahra would have her way this time.

She didn’t admit she felt nervous, although once Paul connected her to the ECG, it became apparent that her heart rate accelerated even before they’d begun.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Paul asked her, over the intercom.

She took a deep breath.

“I didn’t come this far to chicken out,” she responded.

Tahra dispelled any niggling doubts from her mind. The different frequencies came online one at a time, and her body began to paralyse. The sound became deeper and lower, then it turned inaudible. From that point, the magnetic field activated and powered up to sixty five percent in the space of two minutes.

“Here we go,” she said.

***

I felt myself become forcibly extracted from my body, as if a muscle bound man had physically thrown me. Briefly, I saw the grid again but burned through it in the space of seconds. The point of light came into view and I became aware of a presence but this time, it took hold of me and pulled me in.

If I wanted to resist, I couldn’t fight what happened next. I was committed all the way, until twenty minutes had elapsed so it was a case of hang on for dear life. Normally, during remote viewing I felt completely in control, but that was one thing the machine took away and this frightened me. However, without the machine, life denied me this experience. At infinite speed, something pulled me through the point of light, and I emerged in another location.

Beneath me, I saw land and above me, I viewed stars, a whole sky full of iridescent stars and each had presence, as if they were all alive. In the sky, I saw other worlds, spheres of light, and orbs like planets. White, blue and orange clouds lived in the sky, but looked more like nebulae, giving me a feeling of connection to the cosmos.

No turning back now.

My fears subsided to give way to a sense of awe. Hopefully, the machine wouldn’t power down. I felt as if the stars and planets were communicating with each other, but I couldn’t tap into their consciousness.

I travelled above the land, flying like an eagle at an immense height, with great expedience. When I studied the land, it looked unlike anything on Earth. The water was iridescent like the stars and the land didn’t appear to be composed of dense matter, it cycled through different colours and appeared conscious. Before long, I felt a sensation of putting on the brakes and my consciousness re-focused on a point at ground level.

The land felt stable under my feet, but I became aware it wasn’t solid like on Earth. The air around me shimmered, as if there were some field permanently powered up. On closer examination, it looked like white noise and I picked out what appeared to be molecules vibrating, or dancing. Within this sea of life, one of the molecules became aware of me and locked onto my consciousness. Because I was an outsider, the molecule took on a form to facilitate communication.

A being came into focus, taking a humanoid shape. It had no real eyes, nose or mouth, but where the eyes should have been, an impression burned brightly. Its skin appeared white but again, gleamed iridescently and cycled through different colours. I also noticed it seemed to have wings, which were folded up on its back and when I gazed at it, I felt as if its eyes bored through me and peered into my soul.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” it said, although no lips moved. “I knew you would come.”

If I’d experienced this meeting in my physical body, I’d be shaking.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“You’ll know everything that is required in good time.”

Not a good question. I tried another.

“You said you knew I would come. Does this mean you know me?”

The being seemed to peer at me and loomed closer, with those frightening eyes.

“I know everything about you, that’s why I brought you here. There’s a reason you were chosen.”

Now I became scared.

“Chose me for what?”

Did I really want to know?

“For everything,” the being responded.

“I don’t understand.”

“Your life comes with a price. The possession of extraordinary gifts creates an imbalance that has to be addressed. In return, there is something you need to do.”

I began to regret pushing forward so fast with the project.

“What will I have to do?” I asked, afraid of the answer.

“I’ll tell you when it’s time.”

“When is that time?”

“Not yet,” said the being, which didn’t reassure me. “I’ll draw you here when that time arrives, just like I did here, to formally meet you for the first time.”

“You set this meeting up?”

“Of course, it will take a long time to find this realm on your own.”

“Where am I?” I said, realising I’d found some significant place.

“A long way from home.”

At that point, I saw the scene dissolve and realised the field was powering down. What a relief. I became aware of my presence inside the machine again and before too long, I saw Paul’s face as soon as the hatch popped open. He looked concerned, especially when he realised how shaken I must have looked. I was trembling, indeed. Leaping from my seat, I hugged him tightly and Paul returned the embrace, I needed it.

He tried to enquire about what I’d experienced, but for the rest of the day, I thought of nothing but the task I’d be requested to do.





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