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Final log entry. Today should be the last day I spend on Planet Earth. If I live, no one will ever read these logs. Still, even if I do make it back to Planet Forty-Four, my mission isn’t complete, there is a huge rift in the Universe. But all that can be done has been done. While entering these words my hand reaches for the satchel attached to the front of my belt and I fiddle with the packet the giant of a man gave me nestled inside. My thoughts wander off as I recall his words. “You will know it is time because there will be nothing else that can be done.”
The cure provided by Tathagata is a success and there were no traces of the Aryan viruses and brainwashing in the documentary as I watched it from start to finish. Success number one.
A sleepless night followed the viewing. Caused by the momentum of karmic energy and my realization of a new understanding about the universe’s code. While I sat on the edge of the bed in cold sweats and deep shame I remember my mother telling me, “There’s nothing more powerful than regret to remind us we are alive.” I felt it was my choice to take on this mission and I thought finding Banyan’s writing on The First Priority would repair the damage to the faltering morality and the decline of humanity. But after spending the sleepless night reflecting on the eventful revelations, it has all been a delusionary journey of self-discovery. My tinkering in Planet Earth’s past set forth the karmic energy that took me on this mission.
They must have believed me insane back home, my father and friends diligently tried to get me to upgrade my organoids and software. The failed systems inside me similar to my own biased opinions needed to be upgraded and replaced. I was the stupid one. I had forgotten The First Priority is self-love. I was not being in love. I was not caring for myself and I was distracted from being the best person I could be. Instead, I was filling my time judging and concerned with the actions of others.
The missing data I was looking for, the great sage’s writing that was missing were with me since the first day of the mission when Rupirah gave me back the ring. It is my ring, and I am Banyan. That has always been my pen name. I would give this ring to my mother to keep her safe when she went on her working trips to Planet Earth. The ring contains the humanity code that I had written including The First Priority. I knew if I gave it to her the Universe would protect her and she would have to bring it back. But Rupirah had it and Mother told her to give it to me. Mother knew she wouldn’t be returning home and she knew I would come looking for it. Bittersweet, success number two.
Somehow and in some way I know the son Gatlia and I will have, Magallan will be the last effort I can take to fix the rift I tore into the Universe. Success number three. He will have the final task to end human suffering. It’s unclear how and when it will transpire, but The Source told me his son, my grandson will provide the gateway to liberation. But this will have to wait until I am back on Planet Forty-Four.
For now, there is one last task to complete here on Planet Earth. Before I can go home I must attend the celebration for The First Priority. A celebration that The Source originated while on this mission and a further sign that morality and humanity's place in the universe are mending.
***
I MEET MAYA OUTSIDE of the city of East Nagach. The journey from here is a long slow ride up through the highest mountain ranges of China. My research described crossing through the Asian Alliance as a journey of beautiful scenery, interesting people, an adventure of small villages and large metropolises, and various types of transportation. The journey is, however, physically uncomfortable. The narrow and unpaved roads are the same passages people have used for tens of thousands of years. These spine-crushing routes are often riddled with deep rain and snow-washed-out holes, and rock slides, and in many places, there isn’t a millimeter of extra space for the vehicles between falling over the rocky cliff on the one side and crashing into the rock walls on the other.
China preserves the integrity of the population and won’t allow any other form of travel through these areas of the alliances. While we wait for the transport to arrive I see a poster display that advertised the transports years ago when the fusion-powered vehicles were new. The poster is torn, weathered, and though the print has faded I can read the pitch.
Get ready to step into the future with the fusion-powered land-based bus, a technological marvel on the move! This bus is a fusion of cutting-edge advancements and sustainable transportation. Powered by fusion, it combines smart design with solar paneled roofs and sidewalls, harnessing the sun's energy to fuel its advanced systems. Inside, you'll find luxurious seating, panoramic displays, and state-of-the-art connectivity. With autonomous driving capabilities, collision avoidance systems, and smart sensors, safety is at the forefront. Experience the next level of travel with Starlink, entertainment systems, and high-speed charging ports. Join the revolution and embrace a greener, tech-infused journey today!
As it pulls up to the stop, the transport is as worn and faded as the poster. Missing panels of glass, windows that are stuck open, dents, gouges, holes, and peeled paint combine to tell the story of the rugged conditions found on the roads ahead. Maya and I find reasonably comfortable seats together just as the transport pulls away from the station and onto the main road.
“You never had a chance to tell me what you thought of the documentary. Was it that bad? You don’t have to spare my feelings. I can take the truth,” she says.
She stares directly into my eyes. Her face is expressionless while she tries to discern the truth by reading my expression as I reply. She’s like a poker player not wanting to give away any hint of the cards she holds. “My Neuralinks and software systems detected no viruses and no audible or visual anomalies from the beginning to the end of the video broadcast. I’d have to say the software modification from Tathagata is a success. Number four in the list of accomplishments.”
“Could it be then, that we are at the beginning of the cure for this two hundred-plus-years plague? My heart says yes, but my research of Aryan history tells me that evil takes no time for rest. And, you didn’t answer my question. What did you think of the documentary?” she persists.
“Caution is all that remains now as you suggest, the Aryans are not interested in short-term gains and losses. Their strategy has always been a plan for eternity. As for your documentary . . . The entire universe is limited by the same laws of physics through every form of matter and what our consciousness calls existence. We are each of us a completely unique life in form, but we are all exactly the same life in substance. You might like carrots and I may find them horrible, but either way, it is exactly based on the same shared aware sense of taste. What I find not enjoyable about the carrots that you enjoy doesn’t make us different. These are just choices we’ve made, mental constructs of thought based on a shared awakeness.
“The villains of Planet Earth from your documentary are the Trump family and especially Donald and Ivanka. However, even without the Aryan virus and Republican Party-sponsored brainwashing satellites, videos, and radio, perhaps after watching your documentary fewer people would worship them, but some will still choose to satisfy their human desire for idol worship by worshipping the Trump family. Though you hope to free the world of this evil family, the evil Republican Party, the Aryans, Nazis, and all the rest, and you hope that by exposing their methods of corruption, bigotry, slavery, shameful distortions of religious doctrine, suppression of people based on their sex and race. And, well, yes your documentary has accomplished all this. Still, in the end, some people will find you reprehensible, and instead of seeing the truth they will choose to love Trump even more.”
“So, you think it’s all a waste of time?” She stands up and steps into the aisle to face me. Her hands on her hips and her face now displays scorn with righteous indignation. “You are saying that there is no hope for people on Earth? That we are just stuck with their evil forever? Should we just give up then and let the evil bastards make slaves of us all?”
The transport goes over a few deep potholes in the road causing the entire vehicle to bounce wildly. Maya is tossed into the fusion chamber door across from where we are seated. As she tries to recover her balance the transport turns sharply to avoid a huge boulder protruding into the road from the side of the mountain and she is slung back the opposite direction and lands facedown in my lap. She lifts her head and the sunlight shines into her eyes tears form as she laughs, and her hand shades her eyes.
***
AS I HELP MAYA TO TAKE her seat and regain her dignity, several people in the transport have begun to give us their attention. “Your passion for humanity is admirable,” I say. “But the documentary is intended to be reactionary. Reactionist statements are never helpful.” I hand her the other half of the seatbelt she is searching for.
“Don’t do that. Don’t you dare patronize me and brush me off,” she scorns and furrows her brow. “While I am aware of the absolute evils of the Republicans and the Trumps, and yes it’s partly the disease of wealth and a sickness brought on by a sense of power, and yes, if you must pry—I would love to free the planet of them.”
She pauses to snap the seatbelt into place, gathers her hair from out of her face, and strokes it several times, finally, she pulls it to the back of her head twisting it and securing it with a scrunchy. “I am also aware of your beliefs and I know something, not too much mind you, but some of what you call the balance or the middle way.” She relaxes her scorn, and her face softens.
“I respect what you accomplished, that is to say, I am aware of how you earned your highly developed and top-shelf Neuralink implant. I know you must be an extraordinary humanoid what with being given the responsibility to travel to Planet Earth for whatever it is you’ve come here to do. But, I don’t want you to brush me off like I’m some simple human. Even if I am some lesser being than you, I want you to help me, to help us.” She folds her hands together in a prayer-like manner, then places them over her heart. “Help us to be free of these plagues, these evil people, and to end this sickness of power and wealth.
“One more thing.” She doubles up her fist and slugs me in the chest. “You make me feel all kinds of weirdness inside my head and body when you say these things about—the universal laws of physics and consciousness, and that it’s an illusion that we are all separate and different because in reality... we are precisely the same in every way except in our thoughts.—You can’t just talk like that to people. But still, these seem to be words that I’ve heard somewhere before or that I already knew in some other life or something. Somehow, along the way, I must have forgotten until . . .” She pauses for a moment looking off into the distance though not looking at anything in particular.
Then she looks back at me and I brace my arms to block her next fist throw, but she gives me a sly smile instead and says. “Until l heard you say it.” Her hands drop to her knees and she turns her head slightly to one side quizzically as her eyes study my face. “As if, you are simply reminding me of something I already know but have forgotten. Just like that afternoon in the town square when you were telling the shooting crew and me about the woman with four sons from four different men. I know I’ve never heard that story before. And yet, somehow it seemed familiar.”
The transport continues to make a slow and steady ascent up the mountain pass. The unconditioned roads toss the vehicle and everyone in it from side to side and bounce up and down. Fusion power engines make no noise. With most of the windows open, the cold air smells of dust, and arid desert. Through the open windows, the ominous sounds of the rocks being crushed under the heavy wheels and the occasional metal being scraped along the side as we hug the mountain at the narrowest points and tight turns.
“I am sorry for making you feel as if I would brush you off. It isn’t my intention. Though, I will admit my arrogance and slight prejudice. Allow me to say this. What you desire is very admirable, as I said. Every one of us desires a peaceful existence and to be free of hate, pain, and all forms of suffering. As you humans have scattered out to live on other planets and will continue to spread through the universe, what happens here will always influence the other planets. Planet Earth is home to all of us. It is the origins of the human race. That is why most of the colonies on other worlds with reverence, refer to this planet as Blue Origin.”
She opens her food case and hands me half of a pungent-smelling onion and mustard sandwich. The spice of the tangy mustard mixes with the spicy heat of the onion in my mouth as I chew. The air in the transport grew heavy with both apprehension and a growing sense of connection, as if unseen forces were at play, weaving our destinies together.
“Even for those who aren’t born here and who have never seen this great blue ball in person, this is home." I pause for a pull of fresh water. "No matter where human life goes in the universe, we are always tied to our Blue Origin. Just like everything is tied to the physical constraints or the realities of physics.” I pause, for dramatic effect and adjust my position so I can face her as much as the constraint of my seatbelt allows before continuing. Sharing a genuine soft smile and a change of my vocal tone for more acceptance rather than lecturing.
“You and I cannot ever free this universe from evil people and the sickness of the desire for wealth and power, nor the sickness of those who desire to worship the wealthy and the powerful. Some people will love them and others will hate them. That is the physical constraints of the universe or what some call the human condition. In my kuudere’s education system, we call these physical constraints—‘the matrix.’ Everything that exists is constrained by the matrix.”
My speaking quickens and becomes less passive but still calm and controlled. “This doesn’t mean we throw our hands up over our heads and surrender to the hate and inhumane methods of the Republicans and Aryans. It also doesn’t mean we take up war against them. Killing and hate are theirs.”
***
HOLDING MY HANDS IN front of me as if holding a serving tray. “If you spend your desires demanding everyone accept—your god—and—your method of worshiping, your sports heroes or movie stars, or kings and queens, or whatever lust you chose to worship—then you are precisely constrained by the matrix. You may feel totally unique and keenly different, but in this, you are precisely just like everyone else. The more closely you hold on to and cling to these ideals the more you struggle in vain and do no good for yourself and no good for anyone else.”
With that said, I sit back into the seat, place my hands together, interlock my fingers, and let my hands fall to my lap. “All you accomplish, Maya, is more of the same—evil, power, wealth, worship, disease, desperation, etcetera.”
“Then my documentary is neither good nor bad, it's just more of the same?” She says in surrender.
Giant white, billowing clouds hang in the bright blue sky, the sun straight overhead and I observe the time and place while my mind swirled with profound thoughts, grappling with the vastness of existence and the limitations of human desires. The complexity and seeming intricate combinations are an illusion. Everything is just this, now. Endless right now. The generous present moment is all there ever is.
“It is both good and bad and yes, it is more of the same.”
Not ready to give up on the opportunity to communicate with a humanoid, she persists. “Then, if I understand this matrix correctly, while we humans are discovering a cure for one disease and another, the universe is producing new ones at the same time—or as normal. For every new method we manufacture that hopes to make life more enjoyable, the universe is designed to erode it and decay the products as soon as they come into existence.” She thinks for a minute and then says. “Like this transport when it was new had a fresh coat of paint, windows that would open and close.” She puts her hand out as if she were motioning toward an imaginary glass window in the empty frame beside me. “We see it and feel accomplished for the effort, but now the only thing that happens is decay. Minute by minute the paint becomes dull and begins to fail.” She moves her hand to her cheek and turns her head to slightly rest in her palm. “I see the wisdom and the obvious logic.” She expresses an awakened moment of clarity in her voice.
Continue with more metaphors, she says. “We fool ourselves into thinking a vacation is going to bring us happiness and satisfaction, but from day one of the vacation, we are aware of the end that lies ahead. It’s the same for everything then, isn’t it?” Her sense of awakening continues to express more examples as her knowledge fully engages in her mind. “We long for the weekend and on the weekend we dread the coming Monday. We get excited about sports but dread the possible outcome. We disguise our unknowing self by dressing in some knockoff team’s jersey or the colors of our country’s flag and what-not, but regret how others scorn our choice of clothes.”
She unfastens her seatbelt and jumps out of the seat and into the aisle. Her voice raises in pitch and takes on a tone of contempt. “So, what is it then, are we just monkeys swinging from branch to branch doing time while we wait to die?”
The sound of metal coming into contact with the rock wall outside gains her attention. She looks out the window and reminds herself of the precarious terrain of our journey as she grabs the seatbelt and places it back across her lap.
My head nods and I can sense her exasperation. The ego’s need to feel it is part of something important is now desperate and trying to make her stop listening and examining these truths. I say in response to her outburst: “There is a higher existence than human, and humanoid existence within the matrix. It’s discovered when a person has learned the sixteen types of knowledge. First, we learn to focus the mind so that thinking is not happening, we then learn to focus the body so that comfort and discomfort are no longer demanding attention, and then learn to merge still mind and still body—a realization and an awareness of existence outside of the matrix is found in this way. Until that time, when we each obtain that gifted life experience, perhaps we can teach acceptance for life with the matrix and simply acquire the merits to reach the second heaven of the ‘desire realm’.”
“What is this second heaven and what is the ‘desire realm?’ “ She chuckles a bit. “For that matter, what was all of that you just said?” She shakes her head in a sign of unknowing the depth of my meaning.
“The sixteen types of knowledge cannot be told to you, or anyone. It is human nature for us to reject everything that someone else tells us. We reach the age of reason at about six years of age and from that age onward we do not blindly accept what someone says. Knowledge requires self-discovery, without effort and direct experience we are suspicious of others. Each person must discover knowledge for themselves, not through organized systems based on faith, or supernatural belief. In this existence, the wise monks, disciples, and the perfect and complete Buddhas can guide a person to The Source and there we naturally discover these sixteen types of knowledge.”
Not ready to let me off her path of discovery she asks me, “Can you tell me about the second heaven?”
“I’ll tell you about that and The First Priority,” I say. "But first can you smell the mountain air?"
***
THE TRANSPORT ENTERS the small village of Dinegu at the top of the mountain passage. Here, the autonomous driving transport pulls into the large parking area and stops. We are not stopping for fuel as there are no fuel stations here. It’s been two hundred years since CFS began putting cold fusion power into automobiles and the last fossil fuel stations were banned twenty years later. The only reason these transports stop in the villages now is to deliver products to the people and allow the passengers a chance to stretch their legs before the journey down the steepest descent on twelve planets.
Maya pulls her jacket tight over her chest. As she steps down from the transport into the chilled brisk air cascading off the snow-capped peaks that surround us. The villagers swarm the travelers as we leave the transport. They bring us snacks and treats, and hand-crafted wares to tempt us with, and they offer to take us on guided tours. She watches as a few of the travelers retrieve their luggage from the storage compartments along the bottom of the transport. Maya wonders why anyone would be staying in this horrible cold, and near-deserted place. The air is thin and icy and when she inhales it burns her throat and causes her eyes to tear up. It tastes of stale earth and is an odd metallic complexity. Choosing the warmer atmosphere inside the transport over further exploring the village, she climbs back up the steps.
Maya's heart quickens as she takes her place back on the transport, she wonders why she is feeling anxious. She sees Eulǝr through the open window and watches as he plays with the village children. Dancing with some, they are chasing after one another in the bright sun and through the heavy layer of snow. The sunlight reflects off the frozen white surface making it difficult to keep her eyes open. His laugh is contagious to hear and as she lets a soft laugh escape her lips, she wishes the windows were closed as the frigid air begins to invade the coach. Turning her squinted gaze, she sees the departing travelers, who now have their backpacks in place, adjusting the shoulder straps. Her view of them with the snow-covered mountain peaks as backdrop reminds her of videos and photos from centuries past and now it all seems surreal as it’s live and just a few meters away.
The scene unfolds before her like a vivid painting, a dance of laughter and joy amidst the frigid air. She yearns to join in, to immerse herself in the whimsical world of the village children. The departing backpacker's journey towards the distant peaks intensifies her anticipation, stirring an uninvited burning curiosity within her.
Her eyes scan the horizon, again searching for any trace of Eulǝr. The children continue their carefree play, their voices echoing in her ears, but Eulǝr is now conspicuously absent from their midst. Maya's attention sharpens as she witnesses him several meters further from the children. He is rummaging through his satchel. She wonders what secrets lie within that small parcel he pulls from the satchel. It’s wrapped in exquisite velvet and secured with a vibrant green string.
Time seems to suspend as Eulǝr delicately places the enigmatic object upon the stone altar. Maya's breath catches in her throat, her entire being drawn to this sacred act. The icy breeze ripples through Eulǝr's attire, transforming the mundane into a sight of ethereal beauty. It's as if the very air holds its breath, honoring the solemnity of the moment.
Yet a profound change washes over Maya as she witnesses the extraordinary. Frowning with disbelief, she rubs her eyes, attempting to dispel the illusion that blurs before her. But it persists, growing more enchanting by the second. Eulǝr's figure becomes translucent, his presence emanating from an otherworldly radiance that defies explanation. Maya finds herself at the threshold of a mystic revelation, captivated by the ethereal transformation unfolding.
Compelled by an insatiable thirst for understanding, she leans further out of the open window, stretching her senses toward the enigmatic figure. Eulǝr's iridescent glow intensifies, enveloping him in an aura of untold power. It is a sight that defies the limits of her imagination, a manifestation of the impossible made real.
The moment is rudely interrupted as the transport's deafening horn slices through the air. Startled, she briefly turns her attention towards the front of the vehicle, momentarily torn away from the enigmatic altar. When her gaze snaps back, her heart sinks. Eulǝr has vanished, leaving behind only the small parcel and a lingering sense of wonder.
A mix of excitement and frustration courses through Maya's veins. The urgency to unravel the secrets concealed within the parcel intensifies, driving her forward with unyielding resolve. At that moment, Maya felt a surge of wonder and curiosity, as if the fabric of reality had momentarily shifted, revealing a hidden world of magic and mystery. Was she dreaming?
The travelers began coming back onto the transport and Maya settles back into her seat. As she fastens her seatbelt he sits abruptly into the seat next to her.
***
“IS THIS SEAT TAKEN?” I say with a smile and glance into her eyes.
There is a warm sensation in my heart center as our eyes exchange what words can never express. The horn sounds once more and a minute later the transport pulls out of the parking lot and back onto the road. Again, it resumes the relentless torture along the rugged trail and bounces its way through a few of the deepest washed-out holes in the road. Without thought, she grabs for my hand. Without hesitation, I interlock our fingers.
“The run downhill from here gets pretty treacherous. Hang on Maya,” my hand signals strength in our shared grasp.
“Will you tell me more about the second heaven? What was it you said... the second heaven in the desire realm?”
She is persistent and even so, it is a fitting story as we travel toward the celebration. “The story begins by telling us how, after twelve cycles of life, there was a certain traveler who set out to discover an end to human suffering. The journey started as he climbed up one of the many mountains that surrounded his village. With every step up the steep slope of the mountain, the ground being soft under his feet would give way. Making it so that for each step up he would slide back down three-quarters of the way. To make the climb even more difficult there was very little to eat as he could only find a small root plant here and there or a handful of nuts one time or maybe twice There were a few streams of water but the water was fast and filled with minerals so the taste was bitter and it had the smell of sulfur. Finally, after many weeks of climbing, he reached the top.
“The journey down the other side was dangerous as the ground still giving way under his feet caused frequent rock slides. The trees were covered with thorned vines and empty spaces around and through the thickets of thorns were few and narrow. His hands, arms, and legs were stabbed and cut many times. Birds swooped down to strike him on the back and over his head as they worried about protecting their nests from what they believed to be a predator."
Banyan's story number ninety, “The Heaven of the Thirty-Three,” flashes in the HUD. Source file location—MOTHER.
It's one of my archived stories.
"One morning he woke to find a squirrel nearby who had brought him a cheek full of pine nuts. As he enjoyed the last of the nuts he heard the distinct sound of a rattlesnake close behind him. Startled, he turned to look at a very large coiled viper that was just a meter away. The snake was claiming its natural place where it has daily sunbathed and warmed itself in the morning. Though the vine here was thickest and the ground seemed softer than usual the traveler scurried the best he could all the while apologizing to the snake for his trespassing and praying for it not to strike.
“With his whole body now thoroughly scourged, stinging and burning from the thorns, bleeding, and with every muscle in his body exhausted and aching, he reached the bottom of the mountain. There, at that place, and at that moment he fell to his knees and collapsed face-first to the ground.
“After he had rested for several days the journey continued. As he walked, he set his path in the direction of the sun. Before the day was through he found himself in the desert. When the sun had set, the dry night air began to cool and with each passing hour, the cold intensified over the ground. His body shivered and ached, and his teeth chattered. The muscles in his legs and arms cramp and refuse to move. Surrendering himself, he sat on the ground expecting to die.
“The sun as it always does, came up several hours later. He was facing towards the east and though he wasn’t able to move he could see the pre-dawn glow turn the sky a deep crimson and watch it magically transform to an even more beautiful and deeper gold. Once the full sun was above the horizon the warmth of the rays replaced the cold air as quick as a candle wick ignited from the touch of a lit match. His body soon regained its strength. The journey resumed and as he took each step along the path, he went deeper into the desert. The sun’s heat became oppressive. His nostrils and lips singed as he breathed the hot air from the desert furnace. His face, arms, and legs burned under the blazing sun. There he found himself with skin vandalized and blistered and it began to flake. His nose bled. A result of becoming too dry. His lips cracked and bled too. There was no shade, no water, no cooling breeze and no food to be found anywhere either.
“The call of a hawk caught his attention. His eyes were dry and his sight was blurred, but he looked to the sky trying to see where it was. Hoping that it would lead him to water. The hawk was flying northward but after several hours of following it, he discovered no water. Close to the end of the day, the sun was nearing the horizon when he came to a rocky ledge where he looked down into a desert valley. At the bottom, he saw a small grove of palm trees and the desert hawk circling above the trees.
“Perhaps one hundred, maybe a hundred and twenty meters down the rocky ledge and he would save his life with a drink of cool water. He began to climb down the ledge, but having no rope to repel over the cliff, the task was difficult. Weak from lack of food for two days, parched from the heat, and drained of all his bodily energy, driven on by desperation only. But losing his footing he fell the last twenty meters landing flat on his back onto the hard-packed and sun-dried soil. He managed to pull himself across the dry and dusty river bed, his lifeless legs dragging along behind him. Just as the sun went below the horizon coloring the sky in hues of pink and purple he reached the edge of the pool of water.”
#Banyan, notes: These pains, described vividly, evoke a sense of the harshness and brutality of life's journey. They highlight the physical endurance and resilience required to survive in such challenging circumstances as the world and the universe is constant, and without rest and is always challenging us. End #Banyan, notes.
The fellow travelers were not talking, and inside the transport, it was quiet as everyone had begun to listen to me telling Maya the story about the second heaven of the desire realm. The man seated in front of Maya was holding out a flask of water toward me. “Water?” he offered. We made eye contact and we each identified the other as having the Neuralink 7.19b version of the brain and spine implants.
“Thank you, yes,” I replied. I started to pull my hand away from Maya to take the flask but she held me tight and reached with her other hand to double secure our bond. The transport was traversing down the steep grade at a snail crawl. The winding road seemed far too narrow for such a large vehicle. I can tell that she feels less afraid as long as she's hanging onto my hand. I take the flask with my left hand and then I pull a long drink of magnificent clean, cool water. The man looks as if he could be related to the therapist, Sterling Junior.
***
>-CONNECT TO OTHERS NEARBY.-<
+_One request sent_+
+_Connection accepted._+
→My name is Sterling. I’m from Seven Sisters Space Portal.←
→You have probably met my son, Sterling Junior when you got your Neuralink and software upgrade.←
>-He told me many things about you and your family’s history.-<
>-Are you traveling to The First Priority celebration?-<
→Yes. The First Priority, the same as you and Maya.←
→I have to say it is exciting to see her in person. This is the closest I’ve ever been to someone as famous.←
>Maya? She is just a human.-<
→Yes and I hear the missing data you have been looking for has been found.←
>-The Universe has restored the humanity file to its rightful place.-<
>-Syganoids have much more work to do.-<
→Please continue with the story and we’ll speak again when we get off of this bouncing transport at the bottom of the mountain.←
>-Disconnect all.-<
+_The connection closed._+
+_No connection found._+
I handed the flask back to Sterling Senior. Then gave her a reassuring squeeze to her hand and shot her a smile. When I looked around and saw everyone looking at me and Maya and listening to the story.
An opportunity for great wealth and benefit. I must finish the story.
“Sometime in the very early hours of the following morning, while the sky was still very dark and the air was still very cold, he woke to an odd sensation. His mind made him aware there was something crawling up the calf of his left leg. He was laying with half of his body in the pool of water. He managed to push his upper torso up with his arms and turn his head to look at his leg. The moonlight was bright enough for him to see a large black scorpion crawling over his leg. On impulse, adrenaline surged through his body, he leaped to his feet, and in the same motion, his hand swept down brushing the scorpion from his leg. He stood at the pool's edge looking around trying to determine what was what on the limited moonlit night. There were a few small root plants to eat and a large flat rock protruding out of the water about two meters or so from the shore and making his way to the rock where he chose his island bed. Sniffing at the blackness of the night air, he smelled only the muddy shoreline and the tree pollens. Surrounded by water he felt safe from the night predators and there he laid back to sleep.
“Hours later when he awoke to the sound of the hawk’s warning cry. And again heard the cry after sipping some water from his cupped hand. He scanned the surroundings with a keen eye looking for signs as to why the hawk was sounding the alarm. Perched above him, on the top of the rocky ledge he saw the predator. A cougar. The desert mountain lion was coming to its favorite morning pool for a drink. Taking one last sip from his hand, he grabs the last of the root plants and fled the pool.
“His journey was always the same, wherever he went. There was barely enough food and water to sustain his life, the elements were harsh and taking a toll on his strength and his will to survive, and there were always predator animals competing for the same few resources. He made his way out of the desert and into the cold northlands covered in snow, ice, and too cold to sustain life except for bears and wolves. He went south and found an ocean where he drifted for weeks surrounded by salty water but nothing there to drink. And he was preyed on by sharks and scorched by the sun and wind. He thought the sea was worse than the desert.
“When his raft ran aground, at long last, a short distance from a fertile plain. After a long day's journey from the ocean, his path brought him to a small but bustling village. As he wandered through the streets he observed the busy people. Some were working in the fields tending crops. Others were working on the ranch with flocks of chickens, sheep, cows, and swine. There were sawmills and brick makers along with a few pottery artisans. His journey paused when he found himself standing in the town square where the population enjoyed a concentration of the various merchants. Fish, beef, dried goods as well as fabrics, clothing, shoes and so much more were all marketed here.
“He observed a flat piece of ground under a small tree where he decided he would stand to rest while he watched the activity of the villagers. He hadn’t been standing in that place for even two minutes when a man came up to him and shoved him out of the way then took the spot over for himself.
“The traveler gathered himself and his wits, then he saw a place at the corner of a large store where he thought to stand and watch the bustling village activity. In less than two minutes of standing in that place, a woman walked up to him and placed both of her hands on his chest giving him a great shove backward and then she took over his place there.
“The traveler spotted another area, this time several meters away from the center but he was still able to watch the town center marketplace. And, like twice before, it wasn’t two minutes later when a man stiff-armed him to shove him aside, and then he took that spot for himself.
“Now the traveler recalled when he first came into the village there was a small farm along the main road where the town mayor was living. He decided to go talk with the mayor. When the traveler knocked on the farmhouse door an old and stately-looking fellow opened the door and greeted him. The traveler asked if he could borrow a hoe, rake, shovel, and an ax. The governor agreed to lend him these tools. The traveler further asked if the small plot of ground between the high road and the town center was available. The mayor told him it was not yet claimed by anyone and then asked the traveler what he was going to do with the small ground and with these few tools.
“The traveler told him of the events that took place as he stood to watch the village people go about the day in one place, then another, and then once again. “Apparently,” he said to the mayor, “I have a gifted talent for finding places where people desire to rest.
“From morning to night of the next day the traveler worked the ground on the small plot. He removed stones, and stumps, and made the ground level. On the second day, he built a few tables and benches and as he worked he noticed people began to stand on the flattened area to rest. Others he noticed sat at the tables and on the benches. On the third day, he went into the forest and gathered fallen trees, and used them to build a shelter on the plot of ground. Then on particularly hot days, people could rest by finding shade under the roof of the shelter, and on windy days or rain-filled days, the shelter provides them all a good dry place to rest.
“The traveler built places for keeping a fire to warm the people on cold days. There was nothing the traveler didn’t prepare and make ready to provide a comfortable resting place for people."
Standing up, I bow to the people on the transport. Sterling Senior applauded and encouraged others to join him. My eyes are on Maya and I notice she is calm and tension-free. I say to her, “There you have it. That is the story of Indra and how he became Lord Indra, lord of all the heaven realms, and that village from the story is known as the heaven of the thirty-three. Sometimes it is called the second heaven of the desire-realm.”
“I think there are probably more than just a few lessons within the lessons contained in your story. Am I right?” she asks.
“The story is one of many hundreds written by Banyan and contained in the ancient writings. The Sutras, Vedas, and Upanishads each have a similar version of Lord Indra and the heavens above the desire realms. And you are right, Maya. There is a lot of wisdom and knowledge to gain from studying the story.”
The smells from the festival greet us first. We are treated to scents of rich curries, and brewed teas, mixed with a variety of incense, pervading the bus. Outside the window, we can see the city ahead of us and the sights of the festival. The vibrant sights, intoxicating smells, and lively sounds of the festival enveloped us, igniting a sense of excitement and anticipation for what awaits us in the city ahead.
***
AS THE TRANSPORT COMES to a stop in the bustling parking area in the center of Tivlabet, the three of us, Sterling, Maya, and I, step out and merge into a sea of people who have gathered for "The First Priority" celebration. The air is filled with anticipation and excitement as tens of thousands of individuals from different planets have converged on the city and gathered near the great stupa.
The blaring sounds of Tibetan horns resonate through the air, accompanied by the rhythmic beats of tambourines and damarus played by the enthusiastic crowd. To navigate through the immense gathering, Sterling takes the lead, pulling Maya along, and she, in turn, gently tugs me by the hand, ensuring we remain connected.
With synchronized steps, we playfully dance our way through the crowd, kiosks of fragrant foods, and colorful displays of festive wear, gradually moving closer to the majestic white marble stupa. The vibrant energy of the celebration infuses our every movement, and the united grip of our hands serves as an anchor, preventing us from getting separated amidst the current of a vast multitude.
The use of pure white quarried marble in constructing the stupa enhances its visual impact, creating a striking contrast against the late afternoon, blue sky streaked with wispy, cirrus clouds, and vivid tapestry of the celebration and symbolizing the purity of enlightened consciousness. It stands as a beacon of serenity, inviting all who approach it to seek inner peace and transcendence united in the joyful chaos of the gathering.
"You see this, Eulǝr?" Sterling yells above the sounds. Humans came into this quantum existence at odds with one another, and we can only escape the suffering when we learn to forgive and unite in our effort."
The crowd itself is a diverse mix of people from various planets, cultures, and backgrounds, each dressed in their traditional attire, showcasing the richness of their heritage. Exclamations of excitement fill the air as individuals connect, share stories and immerse themselves in the festivities. Melding as one conscious experience.
Flags and banners flutter in the gentle breeze, displaying colorful symbols, mantras, and prayers. These vibrant flags represent devotion and spirituality, adding an extra layer of sacredness to the gathering.
Frozen in place I come to a sudden stop tugging Maya to a stop and then Sterling is tugged to a stop by Maya. They look at me and I point to a person standing on the top of the second set of four tiers of fifty steps each that lead up to the doorway of the stupa.
“Do you see the monk up there? In the saffron robes wearing the abbot’s hat?” I shout for them to hear me.
The sounds of the Tibetan horns and the lively music continue to reverberate, blending with the crowd's enthusiasm. With curiosity and anticipation, the three of us gaze up at the figure, our hearts beating in unison. The sense that this person may hold the key to unraveling the mysteries surrounding the stupa, the celebration, and our journey.
Sterling looks in the direction where I am pointing and then when he sees the abbot’s hat replies, “Yes, I see him. Do you want me to get us over to him?”
With enthusiastic nods from me, Sterling leads the three of us forward again. The three of us dance and weave our way through the crowds and up the steps. After several minutes we reach the top of the second tier of steps. When the Abbot saw me he bowed deeply and I also bowed deeply to the Abbot. We raced to embrace, each of us laughing, overwhelmed with the joy of the celebration of The First Priority. The four of us joined hands and continued to follow Sterling’s lead up the next fifty steps to the third tier of the stupa and then up the last fifty steps to the entrance level.
There are five monks with Tibetan horns on the left side of the opening to the stupa and five more on the right. As the horns blew loud blasts, the four of us turned to face the crowd. Sterling the physicist, Ibrahim the Abbot, Maya the celebrity, and I, Eulǝr the protector stand together, side by side, and hand in hand just outside the opening.
From out of the transparent blue sky lotus petals rain down and the fragrance of sandalwood fills the air. The stupa radiates with thousands of myriads of colored beams outward into the universe. In the doorway behind us, the Shakyamuni Buddha appears along with Tara, and between them, stands Jaczimin, the woman with four sons from four different men. The Tibetan horns were played again with a long and very loud burst.
At that moment, the air was charged with electric anticipation, as if the universe's secrets were about to be unveiled amidst the joyful chaos of the celebration.
Sterling is transformed and now he is revealed as the eldest of her four sons. He was first born as the son of the horse keeper, who had aspired to be born king in the northern land of Tivalabet to establish the teachings of the future Buddha Shakyamuni.
Ibrahim, the Abbot transformed to reveal himself as the son of the swineherder who had aspired to be born as a pure, fully ordained monk who would uphold the holy monastic order in Tivalabet.
Maya was transformed to reveal she is the son of the dog keeper who had aspired to be born a master of mantras, to tame malevolent forces thereby and help his brothers protect the dharma in Tivalabet.
Here I am, transformed to reveal the youngest brother, I was born as the son of the poultry keeper, who had realized that my three older brothers might be born in different locations and therefore I aspired to be born as the one who could connect them and allow them to reunite in all our future lives.
“It appears that not everyone here can see the light rays, smell the sandalwood and lotus petals, they don’t see the Buddhas and our mother standing in the opening to the stupa, and they have not seen we four brothers either,” Maya says.
“Not everyone is ready, they have not evolved to be able to realize stream-entry in this life. The time is not yet right for them,” Ibrahim replied.
“Eventually everyone will be ready and then we can all leave this universe and return to live in the fields. Free from suffering,” adds Sterling.
Before he had finished his sentence, my HUD display lit up:
+_Message from Starlink: Freespeech is under attack._+
+_Fifteen fusion bombs from Aryans have damaged several of the floating city’s habitats._+
+_Please help us!_+
My eyes survey the people toward the bottom steps of the stupa. I see the woman in black. Her hands on her hips and her rubbery face expression, as she waits for me to join her.