themselves to land masses and cities and even oceans.
The Pyramid hovers like a shadow over the largest concentration of lights.
It is huge here.
Even as I focus on it, he steers my attention firmly back to him.
Your interest in them is natural, he says. But it is too soon.
Again, I don’t understand.
I get the sense he knows this, but he doesn’t clarify what he meant.
Rather, he changes the subject.
It is possible to go more directly to the thing or place you seek, he explains, still keeping my attention focused on him, and away from that bright cage of Pyramid-shaped light. I thought you should see where you are, first. So you would know you can do this, too.
He pauses then, his thoughts carefully polite.
... Do you have any questions?
I laugh. I can’t help it.
Seconds later, we are descending through clouds, aiming for the surface of that light-filled world. As we begin to speed up, vertigo hits me for real, tinged now with an edge of exhilaration. We pass through a layer of rough, exploding light which I realize lives at the edge of the atmosphere. Fires spark my body like solar flares, curling around me and diminishing. Eventually they leave me entirely and the landscape unfurls below.
As we pass through, I begin to feel connections between people and other beings, feel the warm pulse of life, the mix of vibration...
I also feel a liquid surge of delight.
You do remember.
His light is all warmth again, relief mixed with a feeling that borders on affection. I know this should probably unnerve me, but it only makes me smile.
North America grows larger.
We descend towards the west coast, then California.
I laugh as San Francisco appears in a shower of sunlight over fog-blanketed hills and suspension bridges. Steel skyscrapers and brightly-colored homes grow larger, more diverse. The glittering bay shimmers a pale gold with the light bodies of plants and fish, darker near the marinas and docks, lighter again at the gates of the open ocean.
It is breathtaking. Stunning.
Yes, he agrees. It is still quite pretty.
I pause on his qualifier, then let it go.
Now the lights of people dominate, but I see every other living being as well; I am shocked by the variety of them, their different colors and vibrations. Hawks, blue jays and sparrows wing by. I see dogs running down the street, their outlines discernible through a blur of amiable light. Flies and gnats and ladybugs are pale dots; worms, cats, moles, snakes, squirrels, raccoons, rats, fleas, butterflies, trees, flowers, ants, gophers, beetles. They all flicker and shine separately yet remain connected in the overall matrix of light. Stranger still, if I concentrate I can feel each individual frequency, until it vibrates slightly with my own.
Then I start to see them, moving among the blurred human lights.
They are everywhere.
Chiseled outlines like the man beside me are present in nearly one in five collections of humans. Some walk in their own clusters, five or six or even ten of them together, speaking to one another animatedly, the faint outline of business suits and blue jeans, T-shirts and name brand coats visible around their lit forms.
Just as often, I see them alone, or with groups of blob-like humans.
I see seers attached to humans by the geometrical shapes that rise above their heads. It’s not hard to see that the communication isn’t equal; instead, it’s more like ventriloquist and wooden dummy. In some places, two or three seers control the humans in an entire building.
A kind of horror takes over as I see more and more seers controlling humans in this way.
So many, I say. How did they all get past the Sweeps? Past SCARB?
He senses my fear.
His light grows cautious.
SCARB isn’t interested in controlling all seers, he explains. Only those who are not owned. SCARB is also not officially aware of the Rooks, who are quite good at infiltrating human hierarchies, including SCARB itself. Many of the seers you see now are owned.
The Pyramid hovers like a shadow over the largest concentration of lights.
It is huge here.
Even as I focus on it, he steers my attention firmly back to him.
Your interest in them is natural, he says. But it is too soon.
Again, I don’t understand.
I get the sense he knows this, but he doesn’t clarify what he meant.
Rather, he changes the subject.
It is possible to go more directly to the thing or place you seek, he explains, still keeping my attention focused on him, and away from that bright cage of Pyramid-shaped light. I thought you should see where you are, first. So you would know you can do this, too.
He pauses then, his thoughts carefully polite.
... Do you have any questions?
I laugh. I can’t help it.
Seconds later, we are descending through clouds, aiming for the surface of that light-filled world. As we begin to speed up, vertigo hits me for real, tinged now with an edge of exhilaration. We pass through a layer of rough, exploding light which I realize lives at the edge of the atmosphere. Fires spark my body like solar flares, curling around me and diminishing. Eventually they leave me entirely and the landscape unfurls below.
As we pass through, I begin to feel connections between people and other beings, feel the warm pulse of life, the mix of vibration...
I also feel a liquid surge of delight.
You do remember.
His light is all warmth again, relief mixed with a feeling that borders on affection. I know this should probably unnerve me, but it only makes me smile.
North America grows larger.
We descend towards the west coast, then California.
I laugh as San Francisco appears in a shower of sunlight over fog-blanketed hills and suspension bridges. Steel skyscrapers and brightly-colored homes grow larger, more diverse. The glittering bay shimmers a pale gold with the light bodies of plants and fish, darker near the marinas and docks, lighter again at the gates of the open ocean.
It is breathtaking. Stunning.
Yes, he agrees. It is still quite pretty.
I pause on his qualifier, then let it go.
Now the lights of people dominate, but I see every other living being as well; I am shocked by the variety of them, their different colors and vibrations. Hawks, blue jays and sparrows wing by. I see dogs running down the street, their outlines discernible through a blur of amiable light. Flies and gnats and ladybugs are pale dots; worms, cats, moles, snakes, squirrels, raccoons, rats, fleas, butterflies, trees, flowers, ants, gophers, beetles. They all flicker and shine separately yet remain connected in the overall matrix of light. Stranger still, if I concentrate I can feel each individual frequency, until it vibrates slightly with my own.
Then I start to see them, moving among the blurred human lights.
They are everywhere.
Chiseled outlines like the man beside me are present in nearly one in five collections of humans. Some walk in their own clusters, five or six or even ten of them together, speaking to one another animatedly, the faint outline of business suits and blue jeans, T-shirts and name brand coats visible around their lit forms.
Just as often, I see them alone, or with groups of blob-like humans.
I see seers attached to humans by the geometrical shapes that rise above their heads. It’s not hard to see that the communication isn’t equal; instead, it’s more like ventriloquist and wooden dummy. In some places, two or three seers control the humans in an entire building.
A kind of horror takes over as I see more and more seers controlling humans in this way.
So many, I say. How did they all get past the Sweeps? Past SCARB?
He senses my fear.
His light grows cautious.
SCARB isn’t interested in controlling all seers, he explains. Only those who are not owned. SCARB is also not officially aware of the Rooks, who are quite good at infiltrating human hierarchies, including SCARB itself. Many of the seers you see now are owned.
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