Clockwork 4

LANTERN TIMEGLASS JOURNAL

Jim Lantern

time-space

Clockwork Series (Category) – See list of this new series on Science Fiction Stories Page

Clockwork 1Clockwork 2, Clockwork 3

Clockwork 4

“All we can imagine is probably not half as crazy as the truth.” – Arthur C. Clarke, 2010: Odyssey Two.

Three years later…

Earth Year 1958 CE, July 4.

Planet Earth, United States of America, Kansas, Kansas City.

Hawthorn Hills, Harrow house.

Dreams, barely remembered upon awakening.

Nightmares, never to be forgotten.

What I’d awakened from, and where, was a struggle to know…

Awareness . . . sensations . . . warmth . . . a soft surface under me . . . the sounds of explosions . . . no noticeable sense of taste or smell . . . I slowly opened my eyes.

I found myself to be on a small bed with bars all around it. I held onto the bars and carefully pulled myself up, trying to stand. It was difficult, as I felt weak. And my size had changed to that of a small physical form. I was unable to access any clear memories of my past—Mercatorian or Mirandian—Earth human.

Suddenly, I noticed a man standing next to the bed. He appeared to be young. He had eyes of vertical ovals, which looked to be familiar to me  . . . standing in front of a mirror, in that fog of memory. He put his left hand on the rail that the top of the bars connected to. A hand of three long fingers, between two opposing thumbs.

I looked to my right hand, then my left . . . hands with four fingers and one thumb on each, I found to be strange and unfamiliar . . . yet familiar perhaps beyond a darker fog.

The stranger was dressed in clothing of a blue material, covering his body, arms, and legs. Then I noticed the pockets. I reached between the bars to put my right hand into one. I found and pulled out a timepiece on a chain. The man did not appear to notice, or pretended not to, as he did not attempt to prevent me from taking it . . . and he did not try to get it back. I sat down and began to examine it.

Sounds of explosions from outside the window by the bed commanded our attention. I crawled over to the other side of the bed, dragging the pocket watch by its chain. Hanging onto a bar, I pulled myself up to look out the window. The man had a better view from his height, and leaning forward over the railing toward the window. We could see several adults and a few children outside, some of them sitting on lawn chairs and others standing on the lawn of the yard. All were looking up at the night sky, watching a fireworks display. I turned around to look back at the strange man . . . then to discover he had vanished from the room . . . leaving his pocket watch behind with me.

I happened to look toward the doorway of the bedroom, as a man and a woman quietly entered. I noticed both had eyes of horizontal ovals, and hands with four fingers and one thumb on each. Both wore short pants and shirts with short sleeves, multi-colored materials. About halfway over to my bed, they abruptly stopped moving. It looked like their eyes had become glazed over. It was as if the flow of time had stopped for them, but not for me. I could still move. The flow of time was not actually altered or stopped. Just my perception of it as a compressed time event.

Right then, I felt a strange force upon me, causing me to look toward what I’m now certain was the southwest corner of the ceiling, that included the upper right corner of the south wall, and the upper left corner of the west wall—the window wall by my bed. Focused on the point where the lines of the three corners met, I became transfixed.

Amazingly, those three upper corners began to slowly fold outwards, curving away from the common point. It was as if a giant monster were standing outside the house, pealing open the walls and roof . . . but not exposing the darkness of the night outside the house. Instead, the darkness of another place, beyond the physical world . . . a darkness that was absolutely black. Each of the outward folding corners formed black triangles of about 45-90-45 degrees as they grew in size. Together, the three triangles formed one large black triangle of equal angles and equal sides. Each side about three feet long when the outward folding stopped.

Next, a single point of light appeared in the center of the black triangle. At first, it looked like a distant star. But then, I could see it was moving . . . coming closer. Suddenly, it split into three points of light, rapidly moving away from each other, on equal paths, which were perpendicular to the center of each side of the triangle. Upon reaching the sides, the three points of light vanished. Then, instantly, a field of multi-colored stars appeared in the triangle, filling the void.

I then felt a voice, sensing the words with my soul, coming out of the triangle. I could not hear the voice with my ears.

“Fear not.” said a male voice, which felt familiar to my Caeruli soul, “I am the Ambassador to Earth from the Realm of Heaven.” He paused a moment, and then said, “It has been difficult locating you . . . exactly 3 years having passed since your fall to the planet you knew to as Mirandus, when you arrived with the Mercatorian expedition nearly 40 thousand Earth years ago.”

I tried to speak, but could not get my mouth to say the words I was thinking: “What happened? Where am I? Who am I? What have I become?”

I could not see him, but he knew my thoughts as if he could see into my conscious mind, and even into the depths of my soul and the superconscious mind therein.

“Remember.” the reply came from the Ambassador beyond the triangle and filled my soul with images of another place and time.

“I am . . . I was . . . MOT . . . Mutarus Tempus Omnia, a Landor from planet Langenth. My parents having been assigned to Agriculture Research Station 601 on colony planet Citra, which became the capital planet of the Mercatorian Empire.” The thoughts of my true self, not of my newest Earth human mind.

“Remember. Star Ship Providence. The Bracatus Mirandus Expedition to the planet the Mercatorians named Mirandus.” the Ambassador told me.

“Mission failed. A mutiny. Star Ship Providence destroyed. The master time capsule mission. Explosion aboard the scout craft. Crashed in ice cold water. Death.” The memories crashed like waves of water upon the beach of my superconscious mind.

“Remember. Terrantus Station.” he told me.

“Red triangel. A demon Teznite. Tried to destroy me.” I could see the image. “Flames beyond the exit port jumper ramp. Lake of Fire.”

“No.” the Ambassador informed me, “The flames were not from the Lake of Fire, but from the corona of a star—a sun, which you could not completely see, because part of the ramp blocked your view from where you stood. The sun of planet Citra.”

“The home of our family after leaving Langenth.” I remembered.

“Lucifer, Satan, and the Prince of Darkness and Deception—who is the so-called devil of the Earth human Christians, are three separate beings. The Prince of Darkness and Deception did not want you to be reincarnated again on Earth—the planet you knew as Mirandus. Falycia, an agent of the Prince, was ordered to send you home, not to harm you. To send you home to Citra, rather than Langenth, so you would not continue to be a threat to the plans to revive the old revolt. And by sending you to Citra, instead of Langenth, it was hoped that your soul would be misplaced within the system for ascensions, to delay your ascending transformations to angelic levels. The Prince could have ordered Falycia to send you to the Lake of Fire in an attempt to destroy you, although a safety system—unknown to the Prince—would have protected you. Why he chose to allow your soul to survive is a mystery of great interest to the Most High Judges, who will judge the Prince when he is finally located and captured. Lucifer and Satan have already been captured, judged, and executed. They exist no more. Even so, just as physical wars cause physical damage, which must be repaired after the war, spiritual wars cause spiritual damage, such as those who have been contaminated by willful evil and sin, like in biological warfare, to be passed on to other victims like a viral disease.” the Ambassador informed me. I did not fully understand what he was talking about, but I got the basic meaning of it.

“Two Caeruli souls helped me to escape from Terrantus Station. What happened to them?” I inquired.

“They have been reincarnated on planet Earth, born into human life, just as you have.” he replied.

“I have been reincarnated again.” I thought about that.

“You have been named Thomas Jefferson Harrow by your parents of this life.” the Ambassador told me.

“I escaped from Terrantus Station, returned to this planet, to seek my spiritual wife, Marea Amor, who was of the Exsequor family from planet Langenth. Where is she now?” I wanted to know.

“Your spiritual wife . . . yes, there were two marriage ceremonies . . . the first for the duration of your lives in the flesh as Landors from Langenth, and the second for the duration of your souls—the spiritual marriage. Marea Amor, who was first born into the Exsequor family, the last royal monarchy on Langenth, who then became Marea Amor Omnia by way of marriage to you when you were Mutarus Tempus Omnia . . . is now Andrea Marie Sterling by way of reincarnation, born into the Sterling family . . . began her final reincarnation on Earth, having been born on the fourth day in the month of July, in the year 1955. Present date being fourth day in July, 1958, her third birthday. She is presently living near the City of London, in the land known as England.” the Ambassador reported.

“Where am I?” I asked.

“Your current location is in a house on lot 7 of Forest Drive in a residential area known as Hawthorn Hills, a few miles southwest of the city named Kansas City, in the State of Kansas, the country known as the United States of America . . . six time zones west of London, your location time is now two hours before midnight, as it is four hours past midnight in London where the date is now the fifth of July. Your fall to Earth from Terrantus Station took place during the same hour, on the fourth day in July, 1955. A soul is usually placed at the moment of birth. However, because of the way you departed Terrantus, not on the schedule I planned, you spent eight months in the womb of your new mother. A Creator Daughter, who was able to intervene with what would have been uncontrolled random placement, selected her. You were born about an hour before noon, on the fifth day of March, 1956. Two years and four months have passed since your birth.” the Ambassador informed me.

“Not much I can do in this form at this time.” I remarked.

“When I sent Architritia to collect you, it was my plan to send you back to Earth to join Marea Amor for one final reincarnation.” he continued. “Then, the diversion planned by the Prince of Darkness and Deception failed . . . and you escaped Terrantus to be reincarnated anyway. At the time of the Mercatorian expedition to this planet, the outbreak of the Lucifer Revolt caused this world and most inhabited planets of the physical universe to be placed under a quarantine, trapping the Caeruli souls on this world until the end of the revolt and the lifting of the quarantine. We still need some Caeruli souls on Earth for two reasons. One, to help us hunt down the evil souls and spirits who are attempting to revive the revolt, including the Prince of Darkness and Deception—who apparently has taken human form again. Two, to recover the master time capsule and all of the time capsules buried by the Mercatorians on this planet, which contain information on how to build a star ship, and the location of the Interstar Trading Worlds. Information that is needed to help build the first Earth human starship. By which means you may be permitted to visit the Mercatorian home worlds, before ascending into the Realm of Heaven.”

“The two creatures in this room with me now are Earth humans?” I asked.

“Yes. Your parents of this life.” the Ambassador answered.

“Who was the stranger in this room, who vanished just before they entered this room?” I wanted to know.

At first, there was no reply. The Ambassador remained silent.

So I continued. “He appeared to be a Mercatorian Landor, and he seems familiar to me . . . but I’m not sure. Who was he?”

“You.” the Ambassador finally answered.

“How is that possible?” I asked.

“A SlipField time travel accident during your life as a Mercatorian Landor, nearly forty thousand Earth years ago, when you worked as a security apprentice at the Amicus Castle Hotel in the City of Thrae on planet Citra. It is partly because of that incident that we were able to locate your soul now. Had we located your soul before your physical birth, we would have moved it to the place where we had originally scheduled your birth. However, we did not know that a Creator Daughter had intervened with a better plan, until now.” he explained. “Also, a different time traveler, of this world, caused an alternate history timeline on which the people of this world today know this planet as Mirandus instead of Earth. That is one of the reasons why the Creator Son assigned to this planet has not yet returned to complete his mission to liberate all of the souls here.”

“I do not remember a time travel accident.” I said.

“You will.” he assured me. “Those memories are deep within your soul, and will eventually surface through dreams and nightmares . . . and as result of events at key turning points in your life, as well as various sensory stimuli triggering relating past life memories. By that I mean certain sights, sounds, tastes, smells, and even the sense of physical contact, experienced in human form may be similar enough to what you experienced during your Landor life to trigger memories of those times and past experiences.”

“Will Marea Amor, I mean Andrea Sterling, remember me?” I asked.

“At the right time and place, you will be reunited with the her. Together, both of you will work to enhance your memories, as well as the memories of other humans who have Caeruli souls, who you will eventually encounter. I do not presently know of the time and place of those events.” he answered. “Others are looking for you, and might eventually find you by using a tracking device hidden in the pocket watch you now have from your Mercatorian past.”

“I feel your voice is familiar. Who are you?” I asked.

“I was once nothing more than a Caeruli soul in a Mercatorian life form, as you were, on Citra, long ago.” the Ambassador told me, “We have met before, and we will meet again. Farewell!” He didn’t say his name.

Abruptly, the walls and ceiling folded back in place, and the normal flow of time continued. I did not understand it then, but now I know that buffer-time was extended from buffer-space into that room to cause a compressed time event.

My Earth human parents began to talk. It is amazing that I am able to remember what they said, and understand it now, although I doubt that I could have been able to fully understand their words at that age back then.

“What’s this?” my father asked my mother.

“He somehow got one of your watches?” she replied.

I still had the time traveler’s pocket watch.

My father took it from me, and examined it. “Not one of mine. This looks like real gold, case and chain. Mine are all silver.”

“One of our visiting relatives?” my mother asked.

“Not likely. Not even the bloody rich one from across the great pond in London, attending our annual family reunion here this holiday weekend.” my father answered. “Look at this! It must be some kind of a gag!” He showed it to her. “Count the hours.”

“Strange symbols on it. Foreign? Normal numbers for hours. Let’s see…” She counted the division of symbols. “Twenty-five.”

“Just what we need! And, look…” my father said as he examined it closer, “The fourth hand counts a week of eight days! If no one claims it, I’ll save it and give it to Thomas when he goes off to college. He will need an extra hour every day, and an extra day every week, while attending college.” he said, as he put the watch into one of his pockets.

When my parents left the bedroom to go back outside, I turned back to the window to watch the continuing fireworks display. As I did so, my yesterworld became a dream of a nightmare, yet to be remembered.

That is how my human conscious mind interpreted those strange events recorded by my Caeruli soul in the spectrum of blue light.

Tired, I laid back down on the bed . . . and the darkness returned…

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