#4 of IMAGINARY Series!
by TS Caladan
The mysterious figure or ‘visitor’ that resembled a character in the new ‘Tron’ film was called “Y-Man” in the London newspapers. Rather like one of the ‘X-Men,’ the name caught on and the strange ‘man’ was seen again and again during the fortnight of December 10 to December 24, 2012.
Above photos, submitted by Liam Fieldcorn of Chelsea were the first ones printed in the Times and distributed by European AP. The foggy photos and Fieldcorn’s entire story was not believed until the exact experience was repeated a documented 48 times in the fortnight on all continents of planet Earth!
The man from Chelsea and first to encounter Y-Man reported that he was sure the “fellow wore a costume.” As he approached, “I couldn’t help but snap a few pictures.” The hard part to conceive to police and higher, government officials was when anyone came very near Y-Man, the odd visitor disappeared! When the photographer and other people, even helicopters, came close to the man that glowed a blue Y-shape…the unknown ‘person’ always dissolved to nothingness.
Who was Y-Man? What did he want? Was he a she? Was this a visitation from an extraterrestrial? Why did the stranger only appear at night? Was it a hologram that required nighttime to function? Was he a space-age vampire? What was it doing as it materialized and watched on major city rooftops as well as at sites of ancient ruins? Film clips showed the figure simply looked over the planet and people in front of him in the darkness, without weapons or activity of apparatus.
Y-Man was photographed by cell phones at British Parliament, Stonehenge, Giza, New York, Pentagon, Vatican, Geneva, Malta, Paris, Alice Springs (Aus.), Tassili and Zimbabwe (Africa), Machu Picchu, Tokyo, Jekyll and Easter Island.
Nothing was ever communicated by the alien or ‘Watcher’ as some had labeled the visitor. A few fake-Y-men that wanted attention or publicity were discovered with cheap suits during the two week period.
Then as suddenly as ‘Y-Man Mania’ appeared and raged with legitimate night-sightings all over the world, every night…
…Y-Man went away. The bizarre, speechless character that only watched was nowhere to be seen and filmed. Christmas eve, 2012, was the last reported filming of the real Y-Man and it was in Berlin.
Many thought the oddity was associated with the Mayan ‘end of the world’ prediction during this time. The ‘traveler’ was absolutely connected to one particular and very crucial point in time. And so was “the other one.”
Where was Y-Man? Did he go back to the planet or dimension that he came from? Will he report all that he saw and probably recorded? Was ‘Y’ the legendary Thunderbird or ‘Mothman’ that preceded great disasters? Was it a phony stunt, a hoax? Everyone wanted to know the answers. WHY and what did it all mean?
Then at the New Year, Earth and reality itself remained intact. The mysterious man with a blue “Y” on his chest (not a red “S”) returned. Or did he? Something was very different because Y-Man was now viewed at the Grand Canyon in broad daylight! The grey-suited guy with a bright blue semi-Y teleported himself a number of times in front of a crowd of tourists. Photographs from cameras and phones clearly showed that he seemed to hop at light-speed from one high point on the canyon walls to another. He gave dozens of people a glorious show of what he could do. The man was a man and he spoke. He gave them a secret message.
The group of Grand Canyon tourists was told to “not reveal the message” for now and everything will “come to light soon.” Y-Man did not open his dark helmet and show the humans if he was a human or something else. He hinted in a “strong and beautiful voice” (recorded) that he would reveal his face when he spoke to the planet over media. “Everyone will hear the good message at that time,” Y said.
He accepted their name for him. He said “Y-Man was a good a name as any.” His real name went unspoken.
When asked, “Where and when will the media event take place?”
…Y-Man only replied, “In 24 hours…on top of Devils Tower, Wyoming.”
Then he was gone and left 48 Grand Canyon tourists speechless with five minutes they will never forget. Y-Man was not a hoax. But what was he?
Devils Tower’s summit is 867 feet above its base with an area on top about the size of a football field. The natural formation was featured at the end of ‘Close Encounters of the Third Kind.’ Now a similar situation, only very public, went into hyper-gear in a matter of hours. News teams from every part of the planet were taken by helicopter to the summit of the tower.
Everything was ready and nearly all channels were GO for the Big Event where you could hear and watch the Watcher. Would he show up and speak as he told the tourists? He did. Y-Man materialized and stunned the vast crowd. Cameras of all sorts operated and also secret cameras from remote drones. The world heard:
“My name is Barados. I am a Teran, one of you…only from a wonderful, Earthly future. The near future…your near future, is unknown. It can be one of two ways…a positive direction…or a path that will lead to the destruction of billions of Earthlings…”
The planet rocked in its orbit to a very small degree with negative frequencies or global ‘gasps.’ Then ‘Tera’ corrected herself when the stranger said:
“…I am here to guide you in the right time/direction or a reality where billions of Earthlings will…NOT be painfully destroyed. That was the good news I shared with the 48 at the canyon and with your small world at this time…these are generalities and you want specifics. I am at this location for a precise reason. Locals of Bear Tower as the Indians know it have insisted for generations that the rock not be climbed. It is a ‘sacred shrine.’ Yet your “Devils Tower” has a longstanding tradition of being climbed. Locals also know of the June-ban that many climbers respect. But an average of 20% disregards the ban, because it is not law, and climb anyway during June. Everything hinges on that month, this year and the exact day of June 6th. Will Bear Tower be scaled or not? Future is in your hands and climbers must not reach the top. Please. If you desire a virtual ‘painless’ tomorrow where the horrors of a terrible Armageddon does not happen…then, do not climb Bear Tower on the 6th of June. Please. I beg you.”
Y-Man who told the planet’s media that his name was “Barados” and Earth was called “Tera,” completely vanished. Countless cameras and monitoring devices from every angle recorded the disappearance. Y-Man received multiple viewers’ thoughts that, He was supposed to show his face!
He reappeared with a gesture. Y-Man forgot and made good on a promise. He pushed an unseen button on his grey suit and the spherical helmet retracted back…
His face smiled and his two eyes closed. His long, white hair was a striking feature. It was an attractive face of a familiar man no more than 25 years of age. There were odd, facial markings and blue make-up was around his bright eyes.
Y-Man placed his hands together in a prayer position. He smiled even wider as the being seemed to hope for the best possible tomorrow. Then he was gone.
He told us what must be done to alter an inevitable, major disaster (his message was interpreted). To have a “painless” future where “billions of Earthlings will not be destroyed,” climbers should avoid the ‘Close Encounter’ tower on June 6th. The message or test or ultimatum was clear enough. Would the handful of devoted Devils Tower climbers comply with the simple request by the white-haired Indian from the future? Could one physical action such as a climber that reached the top of the tower actually change history or reality itself? Earth buzzed in flux.
A housemate from a downstairs apartment and a housemate from an upstairs apartment in a bad section of the San Fernando Valley ran to my door! From my poor 9’ x 9’ room, fit only for a young college student, I knew (of course) what it was about. I was more stunned, shocked and speechless than anyone else because now the world knew: some of the world knew…and later, many more.
I hadn’t really thought about what the hell was going to happen, on June 6th or in my life or now. I knew what they were going to say. But I wasn’t prepared.
“Tray!” the salesman yelled, blazed with excitement (like he could profit from the news). “That was you! You looked GOOD.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I said in a daze. “I know.” I wasn’t as cool as they thought.
The drummer asked, “You know a lot of things. Did you KNOW Y-Man was a young version of you?”
“Ah, yeah. Why should I tell you guys anything? You don’t believe me,” I said firmly. I wasn’t happy. I was pissed.
“Well…maybe…we DO believe you…now,” the sales guy responded.
They looked at each other, puzzled.
Weren’t we all?
I closed the door on them and said, “I have to be alone and think about this. Maybe move from this hellhole!”
I heard the drummer say, “I want the pool house.”
Soon I was alone and not at peace. I only heard the neighbor’s rooster again and the eternal rain (pain) of pit-bull barks. I think I heard a new one. That’s what the neighborhood needed, another fucking dog!
It was yesterday that my world changed; when I met him, I mean me…
I answered a knock on my room’s door that led to a common area. I was fairly sure no one was on either floor with the cars gone. And I heard no one come in; so who could this be? It was Y-Man with the dark helmet retracted. One day earlier than others, I learned he had my face. I found out he materialized here, in front of my cheapie room in earshot of maybe 17 nasty mongrels, directly after his little talk at the Grand Canyon. What the hell did the blue markings mean on his face?
What a difference! He was incredible looking: perfect skin, in his twenties; he seemed taller and far more confident, knowledgeable and powerful than I could ever be. The guy was beautiful. He possessed glowing youth and long, white hair. I, on the other hand, was an aging (broke) author/artist/researcher who was 64, toothless and basically abused by the people around the old apartment building.
He only gave the tourists five minutes. I, in the Y-suit, told me that he could stay for an hour. I was so honored. I discovered that in an hour, he (I) had to go back through hyperspace and return to his own…
“Time? That’s what this is about? You’re from the future,” I told myself. We took a few steps and were in the common room. I was too excited to sit on the plastic chairs. “I just saw the commercial where it was the guy in the future. You know the one?”
Y-Man smiled and said, “No.” He almost laughed.
I had to joke; it was my (our) nature. “You mean you don’t know where our wife is?”
The Y-Man let out a hearty laugh and patted me on the back. “That’s funny.”
I remembered something quickly and reacted as if possibly I was going to explode.
He read my thoughts and understood, perfectly. “No, Tray. We’re not anti-matter to one another. Although paradox parallels through different transport methods are absolutely subject to annihilation if they touch. Good that you knew.”
I smiled. I did what I would do for any guest. “Something to drink? All I have is water, but it’s good water. I boil it. Oh, maybe I have…” I checked the refrigerator with a lot of energy. “Shit, sorry…no coffee. Fuck!”
“Tray, Tray, hey…”
“Yeah?”
“You’re about to cry your eyes out at my response; it’s Okay. Please do.”
I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. I was dead serious. “Why am I gonna cry my eyes out?”
“Because I am not a human being in this time-suit, more of a holographic consciousness: your consciousness. And I don’t need the water, but you’ll feel better getting it for me. You’ll feel more normal, eh?”
Then I cried my eyes out as I went for the cold boiled water.
“By the way, it’s good that you boil city water.”
I cried harder and gushed tears and shouted out the reference that I was sure Barados knew. “In ‘Oh God,’ George Burns told John Denver to shave, ah, ah, you’d feel, ah, more normal.”
“It’s alright.”
“Nietzsche’s quote, Nietzsche’s quote: what is ape to man? Ah, uh…a…a laughing stock, ah, ah thing of shame, eh?”
He looked directly into my eyes and said, “Would I be here in my last hour on Earth…with you, if you were a thing of shame? You know you’re not an ape, Tray. And I am not Superman.”
I went on for minutes in an unbelievable avalanche of tears; bawled like a baby; like when I had a few revelations long ago (Infinite Big Bangs, Tesla’s wireless as Atlantean technology or when I tripped and saw God).
The water spilled, but it did not matter. He pretended to drink.
He suggested a quiet moment of meditation in the ‘Teeter Hang-Up.’ I laughed and wiped my wet face with a dirty shirt. I did it. I strapped in and hung upside-down for awhile. Joyful tears merged into silence and stillness. Even the dogs, leaf blowers and industrial sounds gave me a break. There was calm solitude. I relaxed like a happy bat and closed my eyes. The dude who saw more down-the-road than I did was on the other side of my eyelids and I wasted this precious time? I undid the fastener, got upright and was in a much better mood to talk to me.
Future-me consciousness in some type of form walked around and closely inspected my artwork on three walls. “Impressive, our work.”
“Can I ask questions, I mean will you answer my questions?” I asked as I sat on a bookcase near the large window.
Barados again glanced into my eyes and said, “I will answer with the truth.” He smiled.
“What is this about? What do you want?”
“Ah,” he corrected. “I won’t answer things you will learn on your own in time…that you need to know when…time is right.”
“Thought there was a catch.”
“No, you misunderstand. Tomorrow I will speak at what you commonly call Devils Tower and it will be explained then. You’ll find out tomorrow.”
“Oh. Wyoming? Like the movie?” I jumped off the bookcase.
The man or boy out of time looked through the large window as if there was something over the East horizon that interested him. “Anything else?”
“What’s the ‘Y’ stand for?”
He chucked and winked at me and only said, “C’mon.”
In all this time, it just dawned on me that I was the Y-Man (in a sense).
“Hmm.” (What won’t I find out soon that he could tell me?) I asked sincerely, “Why does my life suck?”
“Maybe it won’t in future?”
That was good to hear. “You know something I don’t?” I made us laugh. “Wait. I don’t understand. How can you be me in the future and have my facial features? I wouldn’t reincarnate into someone who looked like me in an earlier lifetime?”
“Who said anything about reincarnation? You know you’re done on this planet now with 26?”
(Didn’t hear the question). “So how did my consciousness become Barados with a ‘time-suit’ that could journey into the past?”
He smirked and tilted his head at me.
“Cross that bridge when I get there, I guess.”
Y-Man smiled and nodded with positive assurance.
I had to yell, “But how’d I get young?! That’s a great trick I’d like to know. Look at me; I’m falling apart! And my life sucks.”
“You want to know how you got young?” he asked me pointblank.
“Yeah.”
“When the mother-ship comes for you, they’ll take you on board (Friday) and you will be ‘de-aged’ in a sarcophagus, exactly like we have written about…”
“You’re my muse.”
He said, “You said you were your own muse?”
“I was right then?”
We shared a laugh.
“So my body is NOT going into the deep blue ocean with the others too poor to have graves? I’m going aboard a, a…mother-ship.”
Barados had to correct his inferior and older-looking self. “No, Tray. Your body as dust is going very deep down the blue ocean with other poor dead people.”
“What d’you mean?”
Y-Man explained, “The ship will take your consciousness, not your body at time of death. You can holograph any face you want.”
“Wow.” Could my amazing dreams, my fantastic visions of an afterlife really come true? I tried to think of another question with a little more than a half-hour until his departure. “Oh! Why, ah, why did you only appear at night? You know, last time, when you were here before Christmas? But now and at the Canyon, you’re in the sun?” I thought it was a good question.
Barados, the Future-me, became agitated. His whole demeanor changed from a bright, powerful youth…to a deeply concerned time-traveler whose ‘mission’ suddenly appeared to be in total jeopardy. Now he was serious.
“Tray…” He grabbed my hand and shook it for a second as if he wanted to rattle my brain and tell me something very important. “…Tray. I haven’t been here on Earth before. In passed lives, yes; in my normal consciousness of remote viewing, yes. But in the time-suit…no. My first TS into what has passed on Earth was when I arrived and showed-off at Grand Canyon, short time ago…visit with you was a courtesy and a curiosity. I have to go soon and this is very, very bad.”
Tray Caladan (me) immediately called up news site after news site and photos taken from places the dark Y-Man appeared. It was all on the computer monitor: ‘Y-Man Mania’ was a phenomenon for two weeks and became legendary with his mysterious disappearance into obscurity.
Barados almost collapsed in apparent despair. He couldn’t believe that a dark counterpart or negative Y-Man had preceded his arrival today.
Now I realized there were two completely different and polar opposite Y-Men. “How did you not know this?” I asked an innocent question.
The confident time-traveler and part of me from the future was no longer confident. He was silent and pensive. In twenty-three hours, he had billions of people to confront. He was the one that inspired me, motivated me and moved my hand: Barados from the future really thought up and drew the pictures; investigated the mysteries and wrote all the stories. He probably will figure out what to tell the rest of the people on the planet.
I expressed, “So I have a good angel and a bad one? This is somewhat like Terminator. You know the movie? Two Terminators, eh?”
“What? Hey, how much do you know about my time? I don’t know all your films. To answer your question, Tray…I sensed what you have showed me on your Internet, but I assumed these were fears…displaced fears by your people of me and not real events that occurred before Christmas.” He looked up through the ceiling. “Christmas…of all times; that makes sense.”
He wasn’t really talking to me with the last line. I thought I’d ask, “Because it’s holy?”
Then the ‘man’ dislodged from time straightened up and walked tall into my little room. He answered, “No. Because it’s evil,” Barados said in all certainty.
“What are you doing?”
He walked out in a moment and answered, “I had to ask your cat something before I go.”
“Monkie? She’s sleeping.”
“You know her name is Sheenochannelle. You should say it to her more often; she likes it.”
“Wow, man. You are full of surprises. How come you’re so cool and everyone hates me? No, forget that…oh!”
“Because you speak and write the truth…and it’s far from everyone.”
“Thanks. Wait; before you go…I have to ask, now, c’mon…”
“What?”
He (Mr. Psychic) honestly did not seem to know my obvious question. “Who is this guy, the dark Y-Man?”
“The other one.”
***
More than six months had passed and it was the day of days: early morning of 6/6/13. How can I ever explain to someone what had happened in the last half-year? My life was meaningless. I went into 100% ‘hermit-mode’ and did not speak to anyone or interact with anyone in that time, not with this wrinkled face. People would think I was Y-Man’s father and I did not need the extreme attention. Funny, how I chose to ‘not go public’ when I could have told/sold my true story to the Press and made a bundle.
My hermitage and survival for all that time was only possible with the incredible ‘Wall of Light-device,’ a precious gift from Future-me. It was (NOT) like that fucking ‘Trac’ phone-thing I had to destroy because it was the poorest excuse for technology I had ever seen; something you carry around in your pocket. The Wall of Light-device was basically one blue ‘button of the gods.’ When pushed, Time stopped within a spherical field around the button about 10 feet in diameter (size of my old room).
I felt like Frodo, or was it Bilbo? I did not age or have to eat, drink, pay rent; stayed within a healthy field and, most miraculous of all, was INVISIBLE! Man, did I have fun in a beautiful type of Pause-button. I’ll bet this was the effect of moving at light-speed in a saucer? Only trouble was the crystal battery monitor on the side of the little device read low. There were only weeks left of power. Then, what?
It was unbelievable what had happened in the world, on this dust speck in space in that time…as I merely…watched. I had a laptop with me powered by the ‘Wall’ that kept me up on current events. Also I was able to play my choices of YouTube music; that sustained me. Thank you, Big B.
THE DARK ONE RETURNED.
My ‘only hope,’ as they say in movies, was that possibly the good angel with my face might also come back. Barados was unsure if he could. Things change and he was unaware of a future ‘un-fixed’ or still changeable through free will.
The dark one had world leaders and celebrities on Earth completed deceived.
The night Y-Man called himself ‘Barados’ and at once became the biggest celebrity, star, Illuminati, Royalty and general ‘holy icon’ on the planet! He was photographed with kings and queens, Obama, Putin, the highest politicians, the secret politicians, the Pope, as well as Beyonce and Jay-Z. He was always in the T-suit and explained (in lies) that, “I am Moon-powered and can only materialize at night.” And his face…
His face was a myriad of faces. The creature had holographic ability and altered his face. One night, he was James Dean; another night, he was Michael Rennie; another night he was Sean Connery and another, he was Justin Bieber.
In the now, the sun rose. It was early. I greeted the new day as any camper with a perfect view of Devils Tower that was really sacred Bear Tower. I stretched and yawned in perfect, naked, comfort while a morning chill would have semi-froze the others. Man, were there others! But were they watchers or climbers?
I picked a jagged crevasse in the foothills for my invisible camp that no one should come near. It was rough, barren and nothing like a campsite. The sacred monolith loomed above into a blue sky. Normally, tons of people would not be permitted to invade places around the ‘national monument.’ The entire planet’s attention and beyond was focused here on this “day of days.” Federal authorities knew they could not police the area and decided to not try (like Woodstock).
Black helicopters already flocked to the tower and were sure to continue as the day progressed. The questions were: Would there be climbers? If so, will there be those who took violent measures to stop them?
It was hard to believe that a DEVIL of many faces in the dark told the people (incrementally, in stages over six months) that it was: “Unfair to impose such a stipulation on the tradition of climbing Devils Tower. The climbers had rights also and FREEDOM was the most important issue.” Would throngs of climbers go against Barados of the light? Would the dark Y-Man influence others to not respect the Indian-ban in the name of freedom? They didn’t know there were two of them.
It did not take long. My invisible, comfort sphere was positioned to view the first climbers that attacked the Durrance route. There they were, sprawled out in a line and inched upward. More were seen and more were seen; this was not good. It did not stop. A wall of climbers that in no way was safe or would ever, ever be allowed…WAS allowed. It was like a crowded climbers’ marathon.
One fell and took two more along the way down! They struck others who remained suspended, attached to the face of igneous rock. People died, right there with a ‘world that watched.’
I said, naked and aloud, “I don’t believe it.”
Behind me came an unexpected reply, my first interaction in six months. It was my voice that said, “Believe it.”
I was initially relieved and thrilled. Yay! Barados in the time-suit was here to save the day! Go Y-Man! He had long, black hair this time and identical face markings only they were red for some reason. I was happy. I thought: Everything will come to light and be alright. I had to shout, “Barados!”
His eyes got wider and it was black make-up around them and not blue. His “Y” was red. There was strangeness in his eyes and an odd expression on his face.
“Barados?”
He corrected me with a finger that waved from side to side. “I’m the other one, call me…Sodarab. Ha.”
I freaked and moved as far as I could away from the demon which shared a face with me. I changed and thought I would play it tough, in my nakedness. “So, you finally decided to show your true face? Not Jim Carrey, Denzel…Clooney? Or…or…”
“Let’s get to the heart of the problem and main attraction of today’s festivities, shall we? Now look how many are climbing in the name of freedom, all because YOU told them to…” He leaned back and unblocked my tower view.
The incredible number of visitors on this designated day was astounding. They weren’t mainly spectators; they were mainly climbers. Unbelievable.
There were now black helicopters, military jets and what resembled unmanned drones around the sacred ‘monument’ (especially the Durrance side). It was mountain climbing insanity. This was not my doing or the work of Barados.
“We didn’t tell them anything, you did!” I kept my act up as if I had power. I decided: Fuck it! Maybe I can take him out? The world would be a better place.
He said, “What are you thinking, crazy man?”
“This!” I lunged and hit his head with my right fist as hard as I could. We didn’t explode. I did not expect a ghost. I was able to touch Barados, but not Sodarab. I went straight through the hologram.
“Very good, very good, ha, ha,” he laughed at me.
My response was, “How come yer out in the daylight, huh? Thought you vampires can’t stand the light?” (Good one, I thought).
“I have a better one,” the evil creature told me. With an outstretched arm, he commanded, “Sleep.” And I was out like a light.
In a nightmare, Sodarab told me the Parable of the ‘Black Cat and the White Whale.’ God was tired after building the universe and comfortably rested inside of a Great Cosmic White Whale. It was the largest White Whale in the Heavenly Oceans. It was joyous after all the work was completed: a ‘Perfect Dream.’
God was pleased about its selection of ‘resting place’ until the remainder of Time. Who would ever suspect? Who would ever hunt down or make their life’s obsession the destruction of a Great White Whale? God was safe and secure and happy with its Art. There was some time now to swim the Oceans, lakes, rivers and streams of cosmic space. God’s White Heart sang out with love!
God swam closer to ‘shores’ (planets) than it ever had before because it desired for its songs to be heard by every shape and color of Life before the End.
Suddenly there was an echo back to God. Lonely God-Whale heard a ‘reply’ and was overjoyed. It paddled the space-ways until it arrived at signal’s source.
A cat-planet had responded. One of God’s smallest creatures heard the Creator’s sweet symphonies. God smiled as it softly landed on the shores of a feline community it cherished as it loved every creature that moved and everything that did not move. God dared not venture beyond the alternating shoreline or ever touch the ‘material’ since it was a Cosmic Creature. The purest of Architects inside the form of a Great White Whale opened its little eyes and silently meditated on its special and unusual planet of transmogrified cats.
One of the cats, a black and shiny one, bold and brash, walked on its two legs so very close to the stationary waterline. The black creature dared not cross into static Ocean. The cat was stern and soon made his thoughts known of exactly what he felt of the Builder’s Creation. The black cat accomplished the small feat with ‘news.’ He had news for God. He communicated…
Go to Hensi, God! See what your kind is doing right now. Other Great Whites have convened on Planet Hensi in a rally on the Great Question of Life. The other Whales have concluded their Debate and have decided the answer.
Planet Hensi, you say? Strange, I did not know about the gathering. The Great Question of Life or Death, you say? Do you know the results, cat?
Aaaaah, I think you should see the results for yourself, sir.
Thank you, dear cat. The Ultimate God-Whale immediately and smoothly sailed off to Hensi. God surely knew the results of any creature that contemplated the Great Question of Life or Death.
God was ‘wrong.’ It arrived at Planet Hensi.
The Architect’s White Heart, for a still moment, froze in Fear because of what stood in front of its two very small eyes…
Millions of Cosmic Creatures of all colors, god-Whales that could have swam and surfed the space-ways for dream-eternities…
…Chose to terminate their colorful existence!
God’s own kind voted to DIE. Smaller creators, that had been responsible for their own endless array of dream-realities, committed material suicide on shore.
The Supreme Builder felt and cried for millions of moments inside a Whale-form. It never dreamed of the alternate possibility. How could its Sisters and Brothers, together, have said NO to Life? How could astronomically high numbers of Dreams have vanished and washed away with the beached Whales on Hensi? Why? Why did they choose Death?
God shut its Heart and no longer tolerated the intense, loud bellows of death-cries. Their banshee songs were the pains and fears and tears in a regretful last dirge of ever living. Should GOD join them? Why not join the gang? Should not every creature follow the majority? Why make waves against the grain? They must be right with the majority vote, yes?
NO!
The Great White Whale, who housed God, distanced itself from Planet Hensi and from the ‘physical’ as quick as possible. But it loved the Physical, the material universe of substance it manufactured for all creatures big and small to enjoy and simply play. God did not care about the other gods’ decision. They were wrong, it believed. Life was fabulous and should be sustained, it thought.
The Creator swam further out in its lovely Ocean. It had tears in its small eyes and HOPE in its Big White Heart. It was the loneliest thing in the universe.
Without warning…a dark Harpoon of Hate and ‘Truth’ sliced through barriers and struck its large, Cosmic Center. Its pure White Heart was punctured. The Great Whale of love and songs suffered horribly and died.
I woke up and shivered in a coldness that was not there. I was alone. I remembered the dream. “OH, MY GOD! This can’t be; can’t be possible.”
I saw in front of me such horror, such chaos, sounds of anguish and hell. The government helicopters, harrier planes and black drones blasted the side of the holy, sacred shrine that was Bear Tower and its wall of mountain climbers! It was late in the day. A few climbers were close to the summit. It seemed as though the black crafts were in place to stop anyone who reached the top. Large groups of climbers fell to their deaths as the tower itself broke apart in large sections.
Thousands scaled the wall! Were the feds ordered to kill them all?
The nightmare was the real world. I cried for help. There were more terrible sounds: pain, rock crashes, people crashes, weapons fire! There were more tears.
Then everything STOPPED. Reality froze, honest to God. There was silence. Hell became a snapshot; nothing moved! A pack of climbers and rocks that had fell together remained suspended in the air.
But I could move…inside my safety Life-Bubble of protection. Now what? I didn’t want to go out there. It was either the aliens or the government or both.
As I sat in comfort and in front of a stationary holocaust, I heard a different kind of voice behind me.
“Hi.”
I turned and it was Barados! I think it was; it was Y-Man in daylight with his dark helmet on. His color was blue.
“Dude! You made it back, as I hoped and prayed you would.” I got to my feet. “You have to DO something. Look at this!”
From the time-suit with a blue “Y” on a full chest, came the words: “Already done.” The words were from a female. The helmet retracted when the button was pushed and…
Wow. Was this my young sister? “Barados?”
She also was perfect and had long, white hair. She was indescribably beautiful and had similar blue designs on her face. She smiled and answered, “Barada.”
I forgot I was naked and sat immediately. I almost made a joke, but could not generate one with all the carnage at the base of the cracked, sacred mountain. “What? What d’you mean…already done?”
She sweetly ordered me to, “Turn around, look back at the tower.”
“Huh?” I turned. “No way.” A few thousand climbers had disappeared from the rock face and the military crafts were also gone. But that was not why my mouth dropped and I said, “No way.”
There was a giant spaceship that hovered over Bear Tower!
I had a million questions, but the one I came out with was, “Did this happen because the feds prevented climbers from reaching the top?”
Beautiful Barada answered, “No. A third party intervened.”
“I can see…the ship must be miles long…mother?” I said in awe.
She said, “Before I explain, let me finish the parable…a different way.”
“What parable?”
“The dream. Don’t you want to hear from the white cat?”
My eyes darted to the left. What?
“You remember the dream?” She smiled and sparkled and put me at ease.
“Ah, yeah…please.” I felt like I was on the other side of the Looking Glass. “What did the white cat say?” I asked without any regard to the symbolism.
Her holographic hand gently touched my cheek and I felt it. She laughed and told me to “Sleep.” I had no choice…
The purest creature of truth heard a space ‘song.’ She was extremely excited and licked her white paws. But the song was not a song. The sounds were terrible, low bellows of sorrow and cries of tremendous pain. They were broadcasted by the largest of God-Whales. White Cat understood that the Supreme God-Whale had just been to Planet Hensi where other gods of every color beached themselves as a response or Answer to the Great Question of Life or Death. God was sickened at the ‘death spectacle’ of a million of its own kind that committed mass-Suicide and witnessed by the whole Universe.
The Creator, near its end, had no hope of ever smiling again with that big, big maw. With very little energy left, God expressed: Time grows short.
The little cat sent sincere ‘pictures’ to the omni-Cosmic Being in front of her whiskers which were 100% true. “…You saw Hensi. You did not see Nirvana,” she coolly informed God.
{Real pictures displayed billions of its own kind, Gods in Whale-forms, who chose LIFE and not death! Then the view was expanded and included trillions and more trillions. Zillions of gods filled the mega-space-ways and each and every one praised and glorified Life! More universes were viewed, work of Higher Architects and Builders that stretched to other Big Bangs, endless Big Bangs! Staggering, positive Numbers were virtually infinite. Hensi was the ONLY microscopic speck where gods who chose Death and universal nonexistence commiserated together}.
The White Cat was pleased. She made the Creator smile real big.
I woke up and felt fantastic and warm. She was still there; how magical. I said, “Wow. I’ll digest the dream later. Thank you…maybe I understand? You know my mind. Will you please explain…so, so I am…less…confused?”
She laughed first. “Sure. I invented the time-suit and TS travel; almost a perfect method of time-travel. My first jump was to your Canyon. When you told me there was another Y-Man…well, it couldn’t be, unless…”
I asked, “Wait. You’re Barados?” I touched her hand.
“Yes.” She continued. “…This couldn’t be unless I was the cause…” Barada placed her hand up in a ‘stop’ signal and blocked my interruption. “Sodarab wouldn’t have existed here, wouldn’t have corrupted the planet for months and wouldn’t have caused the bloody damage you saw in front of you…if I hadn’t jumped to the Grand Canyon.”
Now I was really confused. “But he came first?”
“Yes, the Egg can precede the Chicken; it happens in time-travel.”
“Wow.”
“It was very serious.” She became super serious. “Here’s the bottom-line: Earth could not survive with billions of human beings aboard her. All time-travelers know that a paradise had happened here in the prehistoric past and will happen in the far future. These are fixed realities. The question was: How do we…” (She hunted for the proper word). “…Arrive at a utopian future with MILLIONS of intelligent and compassionate human beings on Tera or Earth? My insane counterpart wanted the most horrific wars, mass-depopulation, nuclear wars, hatred, terror, created ‘natural’ disasters, deadly viruses, cannibalism…and then later, a cleaner, brighter world that rose from ashes after hundreds of years of pure HELL! I wanted to snap my fingers and create a time-reality where we jumped there…instantly.” She snapped her fingers. Her big blue eyes with blue make-up had tears in them.
My hand went to my mouth. I cried more than she did. There was peace and quiet now. The whole vibration of Earth felt different. I discovered that reality was drastically changed from the one I had known. White drones tracked through blue skies, but they were transports for Teran citizens off to different parts of a global-Metropolis. What future was this? What time was it? It was 2013, the present (she told me). I found that I lived in an amazing artists’ community. Like other village units that varied in shape and color, they were powered by wireless Electro-Magnetic energy. Tesla was successful and from 1905, the Earth had much more energy than it could use. The result was a different 20th Century where World Wars and Great Depression did not occur. In fact, the Money System, countries and armies of all types were totally abolished. Energy and technology were spent on creative constructs that benefited humankind and not on techniques that destroyed people. There was a positive counterpart for everyone I knew and the planet was not a dead, negative electron. She was a living proton that sang with life!
Copyright 2015 by Tray C. Caladan