Maychildren were in trouble with the State; the PTB; the New World Order; the Illuminati; the bankers; the Movers; the High End Shakers and Zeta Directors of the world. They were in trouble by going against the grain of the way things have (virtually) always been. Propaganda used on Earthlings was also employed up here on the Moon. None of the elite, those of privilege beyond Royalty were permitted to rebel or question those who actually ruled the System. Certainly, no one was allowed to CHANGE the Occult System unless the new timeline was utterly controlled and manipulated ‘from above.’ Bottom-line, the children had to be taught a lesson. All seven Moonchildren were taken through corridors and confined to a bio-dome especially fabricated for them. Every move and every thought by the young rebels will be studied like rats in a gilded cage. They made the best of their new, domed prison.
Fon was forced to join his comrades even though he did not participate in the Jones Beach raid. Brown, normal-haired Fon was the youngest and a throwback or a type of genetic ‘missing link.’ The often ridiculed test-tube baby was not psychic. Or, was he? He did not possess the telekinetic powers of the others with color in their hair…yet.
All seven rallied in a beautiful, round living-area. This was the first time after they settled in that the children communicated about what had recently transpired.
It’s my fault, Par confessed.
Not true, replied Tor. Why would you think that?
Ran, with long/red hair, used to have a hot relationship with Par. She chimed in with, unlike you to admit that, Sweetie.
Because… Par answered. I didn’t move the lights back. They could have had a Zeta tracker…it led them to us? Right?
Ridiculous, Tor defended his test-tube brother.
Why don’t you let our resident know-it-all answer? Ran suggested, very aware it would upset her twin. The fiery girl motioned to her quiet clone. All the Moonchildren respected the cerebral skills of the one comrade that could operate on Fourth Level.
Ro seemed disturbed. She resented her clone’s sarcasm. Truth was; the white-haired twin envied Ran’s aggressiveness and ‘loose’ lifestyle. In the reverse, Ran envied Ro’s high psychic abilities that she did not have because of her unconventional lifestyle. The secret of each sister was safely buried in their deep subconscious.
Jud also probed Ro for answers. Well? What’s the verdict? You know how they targeted us? He glided one of the drinks through the air and into his hands.
He wants to know how we were caught, Sa urged Ro as well.
Ro responded with a psychic reflex. The six knew it would be a real and valid expression. We were filmed from the get-go. Cameras weren’t offline.
‘Yes, they were!’ Jud jumped to attention and shouted, audibly, because this was his department in the Mission Impossible.
Confusion shattered the stark stillness of the circular, primary room. Easy. Tor tried to restore order. He held Sa’s hand and looked into her eyes for answers.
Sorry, Jud. I think Ro’s right. We were all taken in; they saw us coming, Sa confirmed.
Surprise, sis is right. I’m outa here! Ran appeared bothered and unsociable. She retired to her section of the bio-dome. Then, there were six.
Par asked Tor, why did you yell in your mind BRICK WALL, BRICK WALL?
Unexpectedly, Fon said, ‘from Village of the Damned.’ Three of the Maychildren laughed at the audio outburst of the youngest. Ro and Tor did not because they were quick to realize the truth about (slow) Fon.
‘That’s exactly right, Fon…from the film. I was trying to hide what I was really doing,’ Tor said to the group so Fon could understand.
Hey, I thought the kid wasn’t a telepath? spat out Par.
Well, I guess…we were wrong, Tor psychically told them with a wide smile.
Fon smiled back and looked down. And don’t call me a KID! Maybe I should color my hair?
Ha! You understand us now! Ha, ha! Sa transmitted.
Ro put her arm around the little boy. We are so proud of you.
Fon has a crush on Ro and was thoroughly embarrassed, but very pleased by his personal display of telepathy. ‘Can’t move objects, yet. Workin’ on it.’
‘You will, you will,’ Ro said with encouragement.
So glad, Tor expressed. I knew it would happen for you.
Par added, maybe it’s a part of puberty?
‘Have a question…’ the little one said to the leader. Ro let go of him. The others in the room were interested and paid attention.
‘Of course,’ Tor replied.
‘The movie, er…film; Village of the Damned…’
‘Isn’t that…isn’t that about…US?’ Fon asked with the sweetness of a child. Then, the boy changed to a harsher tone. ‘We’re not damned.’
Par, who usually gave the boy shit, responded first. ‘Just because you LOVE their films and quaint television, I think you’ve seen it all…doesn’t mean…’
Ro and Sa laughed because they knew what was coming.
Tor interrupted his friend and corrected him. Fon is absolutely right. They FEAR us, just like in the film. They fear what they don’t understand…like stupid insects.
Huh? What? Par was dumbfounded; trumped by Fon?
The PTB often places real occurrences in fictional films; look at UFO movies over the last ten years, Jud was compelled to join the mind-conversation.
Or, like…the Twilight Zone with the psychic, little girl; Ilsa Nielsen? Germans did ESP experiments; her parents died…and in school, they thought she was mute?
Good one, Fon. Tor had a thought. Dr. No is another example.
I love James Bond, the girls expressed together then laughed.
Tor continued. I mean, SPECTRE…a secret group, based in Geneva, setting up the East against the West…tell me that doesn’t have real-world PTB relevance?
Sa was stunned. Like in a dream, she thought, the fascists create, maintain and finance all wars. We’re in heaven compared to the hell they’re in! We still need to do something…something to help them.
Oh, God…what if they exile us to Earth? Can you imagine paying taxes? Par thought with some terror on his face. Mandatory insurance…hell…dealing with MONEY, are you kidding me?! Oh, yeah, hunger…sickness…quick aging…
Tor tossed in, or getting JOBS, ugh! Having to fight in their wars?
Always having WAR hanging over our heads; what kind of world is that to raise children…a family? Now…a new, bigger, Atomic Bomb? Sa expressed as she looked into Tor’s eyes with love.
How about simply dealing with cave-people who would burn you at the stake if they had a hint of what you could do? Jud broadcasted. Don’t mean to be a killjoy, but…you know the PTB is listening and recording every word we say and thought we think?
We’re on a slide under a super powerful microscope, Jud told them as he stood up. His turquoise hair in a military flattop added to his cold and aloof personality. He was a mystery. Tor suspected that Jud could reach Fourth Level and had the ability to hide his true thoughts from the rest of the Moonchildren. What were his real sources? I’m going to bed. Jud’s last piece of advice was, we should be careful what we think.
They retired to get their 3 hours of sleep; it was all that accelerated bodies required. Tor and Sa were inseparable and were the only ones (presently) that slept together. The Maychildren had a meeting with the Director during the next cycle. It was an important meeting where the rest of the ‘punishment’ will be doled out or known. What could it be? Their best minds waffled between the children being EXECUTED or EXILED. Could they really be sent off to Earth? The place of their dreams and nightmares might lie just ahead for them. Tomorrow will tell. A few of the children did not sleep. What will the flip of a coin have in store for them? Ro did not know.
In a quiet moment inside Tor and Sa’s bedchamber, she turned to him. You called them ‘stupid insects.’ Did you really mean that, Tor?
Of course not. I’m very sorry.
Then, why did you think it? Sa was prone on the bed. Her long, white Mohawk was a mess. She made a drink float into her hand with telekinesis and waited for his reply.
Sometimes it’s hard NOT to blame Earthlings for the way they are; their hatred, racism; ignorance; men demeaning women instead of honoring them…I know, in truth, the guilty party is the PTB, the leaders, the teachers, the officials who do not WANT an intelligent society. Masses are better controlled if they only knew what we tell them.
Jud’s right. We have to watch what we think, Sa thought to her lover.
I don’t care. This isn’t Orwell’s ‘84.
That’s not for 21 more years, huh? She was worried. They could do anything to us.
Tor’s next spoken words comforted her. ‘It’s going to be alright.’ They held each other and relaxed together. Each felt ultimately fortunate to have found the other. Soon, they were asleep. Tomorrow was another cycle.
During the next cycle, the children cooperated and were peacefully led to a federal installation in Sector 83. The Moon malcontents were lined up in front of a huge desk. It was as if the whole group of Zeta experiments was sent to the principle’s office. They knew Detention was not the resolution. The punishment had to be far, far worse.
The Director, in a conservative suit, stood up from behind an immense desk. The tall, adult administrator walked to the front and sat on the desk’s edge. The federal office was big and grey. The man smiled with the power of life and death in his hands. Actually, he was only a small ‘cog’ in a multi-leveled machine of moving shadows.
The children had no parents; they were ‘property’ of the State. Everyone was property of the State. They were the aliens’ Moonchildren. What to do concerning the famous, colorful rebels? What will be decided from above? The Director began.
‘I have something to show you. Anyone know what it is?’
Most of the Maychildren turned to Ro.
She smiled and answered. ‘You’re going to show us what we’ve done wrong?’
The adult, who had no hand in their training, smiled with confidence. ‘Aaaah…yes. And, no. I’ll show you what you did, but not at the Beach. And…’ The Director smiled an even broader smile. ‘…who…really, who’s to say it was wrong?’
Tor and Sa looked into each others’ eyes. They shared a thought that whatever the Maychildrens’ plans were for the future, a monkey wrench was now thrown into the gear works. The Moonchildren were oddly confused to say the least.
The Director got to his feet and activated a large, HD, flat-screen monitor just behind him. Instantly, previous recordings were viewed. It was the latest of the children’s ‘anarchist’ meetings in Sa’s compartment. They thought the psychic communications were masked within a ‘silence-bubble.’ Obviously, that was not the case.
On the wide screen, the children were seen in various positions among fantastic furniture. A few used telekinesis and poured untouched drinks while others finished smoking joints of high-grade Meshmacon. Jud impressed the others with his unique ability to HOVER in midair for sustained periods of time. He lowered himself to the floor. Soon, they were ready for business; secret business.
The picture quality was nowhere near the amazing clarity of HD Earth films, which only ‘they’ got to see. Moon-people were treated to old and current films in HD and on large, flat-screens while poor Earthlings were twenty years away from videotaping.
The audience of Director and children witnessed long redhead Ran begin the ‘A’ meeting onscreen. She started with a thought that non-psychics like the Director could hear (Ro thinks one of us can’t be trusted). The candid, psychic conversation was vocalized. A soundtrack placed the children’s voices to their own thoughts so any viewer of clips could understand the interplay.
‘How could they?’
Jud answered. ‘They could.’ Only the boy with the turquoise flattop was not surprised.
Par whispered, ‘what the hell did I…think?’
The 2-D actions onscreen continued:
Jud thought and everyone heard, one of us is a mole? Who do you think it is, Ro?
I don’t know. The clone twin with white, short hair seemed blocked from the answer.
Jud turned to Tor. Then…what’s the big news, boss?
Tor took control and turned on an ATS computer file. (The Director’s screen showed what the children viewed on their screen over an Earth week ago). The blue boy was emotional. I can’t communicate. It’s hard…after you see this…to even…believe it. We were so wrong…but our suspicions weren’t. What we are told…er, PROGRAMMED into thinking…is simply…not true. No words…ah, no words are needed. This is an ATS communiqué from the highest, official level… just watch the fucking clip.
Each Moonchild glued their attention to the underground, PTB, newsreel images that boasted of what our leaders had planned for Earthlings along with a history lesson. The children watched themselves watch the stream of covert plans by the federal elite:
- BANKERS created a run on the banks in 1907 and purposely ruined Earth’s global economy setting up the need for a Centralized Bank or Federal Reserve.
- The TITANIC was created as an elaborate murder plot to kill John Jacob Astor, Benjamin Guggenheim and Isodor Straus because they would have stopped the creation of a Federal Reserve which in turn financed World War I.
- WORLD WAR I was a PTB experiment to eliminate unwanted masses.
- BANKERS duplicated the run on banks they started in 1907 with ‘margin loans.’ The rich caused and highly profited from the planned MARKET CRASH in 1929 and following GREAT DEPRESSION while the rest of Earth plunged into despair and poverty.
- New York bankers and other international corporations FINANCED HITLER and a defeated Germany so they could rise again; create a military armada and threaten the planet with World War II.
- PTB gave ATOMIC and HYDROGEN BOMB to Russia and other nations to promote fear and chaos.
- Cold Wars are maintained by the PTB and Zeta Reticulans so there is always an atmosphere of war.
- New viruses will be developed to destroy the human Immune System and will be unleashed against anyone (as yet unspecified) the PTB deems as ‘undesirable.’
- Zetas plan to weaken the Earth’s (immune or) natural, protective, ozone layer.
- A new COLD WAR in VIETNAM is planned for the near future; only major opposition is U.S. President.
The youngsters were crying onscreen and tears formed with some of them in the federal office. The edited stream continued with another secret agenda displayed FROM ABOVE, which really appeared like it came from the depths of Hell…
- President Kennedy, who will reveal the Roswell Incident to the world, must be eliminated by the end of the year. Plans are in the works for a scandal, assassination and ‘patsy’ with minimal disruption to Christmas and Chanukah.
The Director turned OFF the big screen and then remembered there was one more. ‘Shoot…forgot.’ A button was pushed and the screen popped ON. The stream was repeated and the Director found the correct place on the bar near the end. ‘There.’
The screen visualized a scene from yesterday; after the Jones Beach raid and inside the bio-dome prison.
Onscreen, Sa had a dreamy thought that was vocalized to the group. The fascists create, maintain and finance all wars. We’re in heaven compared to the hell they’re in! We still need to do something…something to help them.
With the last vocalized thought, the Director ended the transmission and faced the Moonchildren. Disappointment was stapled on his face. In the past, the children often attempted to impress the adult Director. He was their AGENT, in a sense and scheduled many personal appearances on the Moon. They looked up to the Director to a degree, but understood he was as corrupt as the whole (hidden) System.
Sa asked, ‘why…ah…you didn’t like what I thought, Director?’
The sensitive Moon-punks received the feeling that the Director was acting. Maybe everything was not too bad? The vibe could only mean that the ‘punishment’ would not be so bad.
The Director said the unexpected. ‘You children are BEAUTIFUL.’ He started to laugh and eased any wisp of tension in the grey office. ‘Ah, ha…’ He turned to Sa. ‘You see…as you know, we have Zeta trackers…’
Little Fon was brave and asked (to the delight of a few others), ‘what are they looking for?’
The Director eased himself and again sat on the edge of a glorious desk. He understood; but Fon did not. ‘Ha…I’ll tell you, my boy. It’s not a thing or object…it’s…’
‘Time; the greys are looking through time.’
‘Yes, Ro,’ the Director answered. ‘Timelines; quantum probabilities…whatever that is? You children would understand it much better than me.’
Ran was impatient. ‘Can you bottom-line it, Sugar?’
‘Uuuuum, OK. Some of your actions are allowed, some are NOT. Everything is according of how it affects…time…they tell me.’
‘Timing is everything,’ Tor stated.
The Director stood up and paced a bit. ‘Sa spoke for all of you; she’s your ‘spirit’ they, ah…anyway. And of course, yunze guys carried out the raid on the Mechanism with, ah…gusto!’ He punched the air as if very proud of the children’s traitorous act. ‘It was obvious you would, and you DID…ah…commit an act of anarchy.’