Creatures of Forever
Chapter 5

I return to my Jeep and drive back toward the road. When I reach it there is another car waiting for me, another person. She stands by the side of the road looking up at the stars. She hardly seems to notice my approach, and only glances over as I park and walk toward her, the matrix in my hand.
Stacy Baxter. She finally glances at me and smiles.
"Hello, Alisa," she says, and the southern accent is gone.
My finger is on the fire button. "What are you doing here?" I ask softly.
She shrugs and gazes back up at the sky. "Just enjoying the night. Isn't it beautiful?"
"Yes. Did you follow me out here?"
She pauses. "Yes."
"I see." I am a moment away from killing her. "Do you have anything else to say, Stacy Baxter?"
She looks at me again, not smiling now, just watch?ing me, very closely. "No, Alisa Perne," she replies quietly.
I shift uncomfortably. This death does not feel right.
"Are you one of them?" I ask finally.
She shakes her head. "Not me."
"Who are you?"
"A friend."
"No. I don't know you." I shake the weapon. "Why are you here?"
"To help you, if you want my help."
"What's your real name?"
"Alanda," she replies. "Sita."
My heart pounds. "And you are another incanta?tion of Lundulf's?"
Sorrow touches her face. "You suffered there."
I bite my lip. "Yeah, I suffered. But what's it to you?"
She lowers her head. "Everything you have experienced--it means a lot to me."
My voice is hard. "Why? Because you know me from long ago?"
"Yes."
I fidget on my feet. I want to kill her. Logic dictates that I should. This desert is filled with monsters. Chances are she is one, too. Certainly she is not normal, and knows too much about me. Yet she does nothing to defend herself, even to plead her case, and I find it difficult to strike down the helpless.
"Do you know this weapon I carry?" I ask.
"Yes."
"I know how to use it." I pause. "I will use it."
Alanda is staring at the stars again. "Then use it."
"You are impossible. I will kill you, just as I killed the others out there minutes ago. You saw that, didn't you?"
"Yes."
I am sarcastic. "Why didn't you come to my aid? Friend?"
"It was not allowed."
"By whom?" I demand.
"You had to refuse them. To offer to end your life before they would take it from you." She adds, "You did these things."
"I did nothing but kill. Because they answered me the same way you do, with vague mumblings." I pause and sweat over the trigger. "I think you are one of them."
For the third time she looks at me, and for the first time I really see her. Her blue eyes--they are very much like my own. I could be staring into a mirror. Yet it is more than a physical resemblance. The person behind the eyes, the soul within the body, seems to reach out and touch me in a way I cannot explain. For a moment--from this unassuming person I am threatening to destroy--I feel profoundly cherished. Suddenly she is more than a friend to me, she is a part of me. Sometimes when I looked at Suzama, I would feel this way. Occasionally, gazing at the divine child, I would sense this same expansion of consciousness, as if my mind were only a portion of a much greater mind. It is only in that moment that I realize Alanda is a spiritual being of great stature, someone who loves me more than I am able to love myself.
The matrix slips from my fingers, lands in the sand. A tear rolls over my cheek and joins it in the dust. I don't know why I cry, perhaps because I am happy. Alanda is an old friend.
Yet I don't remember her.
As I don't remember Landulf stealing my blood.
"I don't understand," I whisper.
She comes to me and hugs me, stroking my face. "Sita," she says over and over again. "My Sita."
But I am not a child. I am a monster. I cannot be comforted even if the space between us is suffused with the vitality of reunion. I cannot turn to this creature that I do not know for help or solace. In a swift move, I brush her off and step away, turning my back on her. If she wanted, she could pick up the matrix and vaporize me. But I know that is not her intention. She lets me stand silently alone. Nothing is hurried in her, I realize. She has waited long for this encounter, and I feel I have as well. Yet I feel exposed before her, and that is a feeling I have never enjoyed. I have always been the master of my own destiny, and now this angelic being comes to me in the night to tell me that I have been fooling myself. Truly, she is an angel to me, a being of light from a distant world I cannot imagine.
"There is no need for imagination," she says qui?etly. "Those worlds belong to you as much as to me."
I draw in a tight breath. "You are telepathic then?"
"Yes. As are you."
"No. I cannot read your mind."
"You can. You're just afraid, Sita."
"How do you know my name?"
"Because I know you."
"From when? From where?"
"From before. From the stars."
A smile cracks my face, involuntarily. Turning, almost mocking her, I say, "Where's your spaceship?"
"It's coming."
That remark makes me take a step back.
"Are you here to take me away?" I ask, and I hear the hope in my own voice. For five thousand years, I have lived a glorious life, yet there has been too much pain. Alanda's love seems to flow to me in waves. The desert is dry, her eyes are moist. I cannot help but be mesmerized by them, by all of her. She is shimmering now with a faint blue light.
This blue glow, it reminds me of Krishna.
The stars. How bright they shine above us.
Almost as if they have moved closer to Earth.
But Alanda's face is both blissful and concerned.
"No," she says. "You cannot leave this world now, not until what has been ruined has been set right."
"Suzama said as much. Do you know her?"
"Yes. She is a sister, like you."
"Suzama is much more than I am."
"You are fond of denouncing yourself."
"I haven't been a saint exactly. You must know that."
"Yes. But that is past. You are here with me now, and I am with you."
My throat is constricted. "I feel you with me, yes."
"Why are you afraid of love, Sita? Because it has hurt you?"
I nod weakly. "It hurts all of us. Sometimes it seems that is all love is good for."
Alanda shakes her head. "Love is good for many things. You have just forgotten. The veil has to be lifted."
I am curious. "What is this veil?"
Alanda turns away and walks on the sand, between the weeds. She is barefoot--I only realize that now. The way her soles touch the ground, it is almost as if they caress the Earth. Gesturing at the desert, the stars, and playing with her long blond hair, she enchants me as she speaks. The communication may even be telepathic, her voice is so soft. But it is easy to understand her.
"This galaxy is ancient, as you know," she says. "Your sun is old, but the stars at the center of the galaxy were there first. The planets circling them gave rise to civilizations. So life evolved. First plants, then animals and finally, what you would call people arrived. Some of these people looked like us, but not all. They became conscious. They knew all that the people of this world know, and more. For there was at that time no veil between the conscious and the unconscious, no loss of the awareness that we are all a part of the creation. The gods of those suns did not desire this veil to confuse their children, and therefore everyone on those ancient planets lived in light and peace. Do you understand?"
"I'm not sure," I say. "Continue."
"Suzama has told you about the coming harvest, on this world. These ancient people also arrived at a point when it was important for them to move on, to move into another realm, a fourth dimension if you like. But then there was a problem. All these beings from the central suns of this galaxy were positive-- what you would call good-hearted. But because they had always lived in bliss, they had no incentive to grow. Therefore, for many billions of years, from the third dimension to the fourth, there were few harvests. Such people were a rarity." Alanda pauses. "Do you understand?"
"Yes. The source of pain for us--here on this world--is the veil between the conscious and the unconscious. Yet this pain acts as a catalyst for us to grow."
"Precisely. People of your world often speak of good and evil. But what you call evil goads you onto the greatest good. This is necessary for you, and all people of your world. That is why it is there. That is why the great being within your sun allows the veil to exist. The story from the Garden of Eden--the knowledge of good and evil that your ancient ances?tors received--that was not a curse but a blessing. It only seems a curse to you at times like this, when you are in doubt."
"But to some extent we live our whole lives in doubt." I pause. "So you're saying the devil wasn't such a bad guy after all?"
"No. I am saying there is a place for negativity--as much as there is a place for goodness--in the great scheme of things. There is no hero without a villain, no peak without a valley. But our path, the path of love, demands that we overcome negativity. But we do not overcome it by resisting it. That is an illusion. What you resist will persist."
"Why are you telling me this?" I ask, and there is suddenly fear in my voice. But I know what she will answer. For I knew, personally, the greatest evil that ever walked the Earth. Still, Alanda's words chill me to the bone.
"Landulf cannot be overcome by force," she says.
My lower lip trembles. "Landulf is dead. He died a long time ago."
"Perhaps. Perhaps not. But certainly his work lives on. You met a sample of it tonight in the desert. There are more of them emerging at this time, and they possess a sample of your blood." She steps toward me, looks at me. "Do you know what that means?"
I snort. "Yeah. It means they're tough sons of-bitches."
Alanda is serious. "Yes. They are tough. And it was never intended that the negative side of harvest should possess such a powerful army of warriors. In the coming years they will overwhelm your people, turn virtually everyone toward fear. This will be the downfall for all who aspire to the light. This fear will cause the negative harvest to be larger than it would have been. In other words, your world is out of balance."
"And I caused this imbalance?"
Alanda sighs. "This must be difficult for you to hear."
"The truth is always better than illusions." I pause. "Is it true?"
"Yes. You are the ultimate source of this cancer, and it must be rectified."
"Are you so sure?" I ask, trying to deny what I just heard. It's too much for me, to be told that I am the scourge of mankind. I feel as if I must run away. Only my irrational love for her makes me stay.
Alanda is gentle. Her next word is not. "Yes."
"But how can you be sure?" I demand.
"Because my old and dear friend, I am from your future."
I take a moment to absorb her statement. "What is it like?"
Now she stutters. "In ruins."
I am shocked. "This world?"
The life leaves her voice. "This entire sector of the galaxy. When so much of Earth fails, much else fails later." Alanda steps close to me, puts her hands on my shoulders, her eyes in my soul. "We have come back for you, Sita, to ask you to help us. To ask you to go back to the days of Landulf. To relive those days, and keep him from doing to you what he desired."
The prospect fills me with horror. "But I can't remember what he did to me!"
"You will, I promise, when you travel back to that time."
"No." I shake my head, feeling my guts turn to ice. "That is one thing I cannot do. Ask anything of me but that."
Alanda strokes the side of my face. "You are afraid."
Again I brush her off and turn aside. "Yes," I say in a shaky voice. "And I don't understand why. I can't understand why the simple thought of seeing him again overwhelms me."
"It's because of what you can't remember."
I whirl around. "Then tell me what happened?"
"I cannot. You must face the memory when you are once more in his castle. It is the only way. It is why he was able to block your memory in the first place. At that time you refused to face what happened."
"Did he torture me? Did he mutilate me?"
She nods reluctantly. "In his own way. But there is more than that to the puzzle--you will see."
I am sick at the prospect. "Is your spaceship a time machine as well?"
Alanda glances up. "Not exactly."
"But how can I go back to those days? How can I meet myself?"
She stares at me. "Physically you will not journey in time. Only your mind will go back."
"I don't understand?"
"As our ships approach light speed, we are able to jump into a realm that exists outside time and space. In that realm we can cross many light-years in a moment. The enemy also has this technology, and that is how they were able to surround you in the desert tonight. In that realm, the laws of physics as you understand them do not apply. For a few seconds you will cease to exist in a particular time and place. Therefore, you will have the freedom to be where you wish to be. If you focus all your will on that ninth century vampire, you will become her. Do you see?"
"No. Will both our minds be in the same body?"
"No. There is only one of you. You will become her, and she will become you. There is no question of two."
I am still confused, but dread continues to domi?nate my mind. "I can't see him again," I plead. "You don't know what he was like."
Alanda is sad. "But I know his kind well. He is not from the dimension beyond this one, but from the one even beyond that. He is negative fifth density-- not merely a sorcerer, but a master of sorcerers. Above his head the vipers hiss, and before his vision all wills turn to stone. Those you met tonight are only his minions. But he is not greater than you, Sita. I know you, old friend, know of your extraordinary origin. You cannot directly resist him when you confront him, for in doing so you will become him. That is his special power, the spell he cloaked you in before. Yet you can defeat him." Quoting Suzama, she adds, " 'Faith is stronger than stone.'"
"But you will not tell me how to defeat him?"
"No. You must find the way. It is your destiny to do so."
I don't want to ask the question but I do anyway.
"Is it also my destiny to die? Alanda?"
She shakes her head. "I cannot say."
"But you come from the future. You know. Tell me."
"I know that you will rewrite our future. Please do not ask me to say more." Her eyes return to the heavens and she points. "Behold, Sita. Our ship comes for you."