GEMMA; Chapter 1
Whoa! Yet again I found myself sitting bolt upright in bed, my heart nearly jumping out of my chest. Breathing hard. Groping for reality.
Another dream. Again, so real. Again, so vivid. Too real and too vivid. Not like a dream at all really. For one thing, it made sense. You know what dreams are like. They tend to jump from one scene to another with scant regard for continuity, and be filled with weird and wonderfully surreal images and happenings – a series of bizarre events in impossible scenarios. One minute you can be driving a toy car through the desert, the next it turns into a pink submarine with wings. Or maybe you are being chased by giant three-legged cabbages only to find yourself the next moment in a crowded tube train, playing a ukulele and talking to a teddy bear. Well, you know. You’ve been there. All the rules of time and space vanish in dreamland, which more often than not resembles the exotic product of somebody’s hallucinogenic fantasies. And however real they seem while we are in them, once we are awake – properly awake – we are never in any doubt that we have been dreaming.
This dream, like all the others I’d been having over the last few weeks, was different. It was coherent. It made sense. The story followed logically, like an excerpt from a film with a beginning, a middle and an end. Moreover, I wasn’t really part of it, merely an observer to the events that were unfolding before my eyes. There simply to watch. Every detail was clear to me – the characters, their surroundings. Sound, smell, feel – all were as tangible as if I had actually been there, walking along with them.
That night was different though. That night, I did something different. As my eyes opened I glanced at the clock: 3.20am. I got up, pulled on my dressing gown and went downstairs. At 3.20am? Brrrrrrr. It was freezing. Absolutely flipping freezing. Had I finally gone completely crazy, rifling around for a pen and paper at that unearthly hour on a winter’s morning? But the compulsion to put the story onto paper was overwhelming. I scrambled back into bed and wrote without really paying attention to the words that were flowing from the pen although even now, wide awake, every detail was crisp in my memory. Why tonight of all nights? I had no idea and I really didn’t care. All I wanted to do was finish it and get back to bed. As soon as the last word had touched the paper, I dumped the pad on the bedside table, switched off the light and immediately fell back into a deep sleep. I had no idea that something important had begun that night. Something I didn’t yet understand. I hadn’t even taken the time to re-read what I had written.
Another dream. Again, so real. Again, so vivid. Too real and too vivid. Not like a dream at all really. For one thing, it made sense. You know what dreams are like. They tend to jump from one scene to another with scant regard for continuity, and be filled with weird and wonderfully surreal images and happenings – a series of bizarre events in impossible scenarios. One minute you can be driving a toy car through the desert, the next it turns into a pink submarine with wings. Or maybe you are being chased by giant three-legged cabbages only to find yourself the next moment in a crowded tube train, playing a ukulele and talking to a teddy bear. Well, you know. You’ve been there. All the rules of time and space vanish in dreamland, which more often than not resembles the exotic product of somebody’s hallucinogenic fantasies. And however real they seem while we are in them, once we are awake – properly awake – we are never in any doubt that we have been dreaming.
This dream, like all the others I’d been having over the last few weeks, was different. It was coherent. It made sense. The story followed logically, like an excerpt from a film with a beginning, a middle and an end. Moreover, I wasn’t really part of it, merely an observer to the events that were unfolding before my eyes. There simply to watch. Every detail was clear to me – the characters, their surroundings. Sound, smell, feel – all were as tangible as if I had actually been there, walking along with them.
That night was different though. That night, I did something different. As my eyes opened I glanced at the clock: 3.20am. I got up, pulled on my dressing gown and went downstairs. At 3.20am? Brrrrrrr. It was freezing. Absolutely flipping freezing. Had I finally gone completely crazy, rifling around for a pen and paper at that unearthly hour on a winter’s morning? But the compulsion to put the story onto paper was overwhelming. I scrambled back into bed and wrote without really paying attention to the words that were flowing from the pen although even now, wide awake, every detail was crisp in my memory. Why tonight of all nights? I had no idea and I really didn’t care. All I wanted to do was finish it and get back to bed. As soon as the last word had touched the paper, I dumped the pad on the bedside table, switched off the light and immediately fell back into a deep sleep. I had no idea that something important had begun that night. Something I didn’t yet understand. I hadn’t even taken the time to re-read what I had written.
THE CRYSTAL SKULLS; Chapter 2, Inception
The huge discus-shaped craft hovered silently above the forest canopy, an incongruous visitor in a virgin landscape that was as yet unshaped by man. The elegant curves of its dark silvery hull, flashing blue and violet as it reflected the sun’s rays, cast over the land below a glowering shadow that deepened further the already dense gloom of the forest floor.
The ship had travelled here from way beyond Earth’s own solar system, its origins the distant star systems of the galaxy, bringing with it gifts of a value and importance that Earth had never received before and never would again. Earth’s nascent human race was being given a helping hand; one that would open the door to the evolution of its consciousness and the achievement of its full potential. It would be nurtured, protected and guided. At first from a distance, a subtle energetic influence would lightly touch and, when the time was right, awaken the latent skills and abilities that would otherwise remain undiscovered and unused. This loving, benevolent and guiding hand would set humanity on its path to true understanding and lead it gently forwards.
Far below, a small party was battling its way through the fetid humidity and dense, clutching undergrowth of the jungle. Vines and creepers, some swollen as thick as a man’s waist in the dripping warmth, hung in tangled, impenetrable curtains. The explorers were making slow, energy-sapping progress, besieged by biting insects while the moisture-laden air robbed every breath of oxygen. There was no trail for them to follow, and they had no choice but to hack out each hard-won step of the way through vegetation that even their toughened knives, honed to a razor edge that no Earth-found metal could ever hold, struggled to conquer. They had descended to the surface at the nearest possible point to their destination, which was hidden deep in the trees, and they did not have far to travel – a few miles at most – but in these difficult conditions it would be almost a day’s punishing trek.
It was an incongruous and exotic looking group of men and women, drawn from each of the races involved in this ambitious operation. Tall slender Pleiadians, golden-haired Thetans and bronze-skinned Sirians trekked side by side with short, squat Metulians, small, delicate-boned Eleusians, and the strange childlike forms of the Arcturians. At the head of the group, two powerfully built males from the Alpha Centauri system opened up the path, wielding their huge machetes like machines. Yet others followed on behind. They carried with them a small square box of a dull grey metal, inscribed with strange symbols and geometric shapes. This box held the final element of that precious cargo. All the others had already been set in their chosen places, concealed securely within the protective embrace of the Earth.
Their objective was a small gully that sliced through the hillside, so well camouflaged by the vegetation that the Alpha-Centaureans did not see it until they were right on top of it, and only narrowly missed plunging headlong. It was not deep, barely thirty feet at most, and its floor was pleasantly cool after the heat of the trek. At the gully head, a small waterfall tumbled prettily over moss-covered rocks, its stream gushing through a narrow channel at the far end where the slope of the hill descended to meet it. One by one the party climbed down, appreciating the fresh, pure water that quenched their thirsts.
Behind the waterfall, a narrow crack pierced the wall of moisture-drenched grey rock, opening out into a deep recess a little further inside. This was where the treasure would remain until the time was right to bring it into direct contact with the human race.
One of the taller men now stepped forward. He was slender with blond, almost white hair that hung like silk to below his shoulders. His moustache and beard were of the same colour and from beneath his pale eyebrows, intelligent, vividly blue eyes looked out on the world. This was Artem, elected leader of the Galactic Council. In his hand lay a strange-looking key made of pure gold. It was about the length of a man’s hand and shaped like an ‘f’ and a ‘j’, attached at 180° to each other from a small centre circle.
Artem indicated for the box to be brought to him. It had no visible catch or lock, but as he pressed the key into a matching indentation on its side the top slid open; reaching inside, he drew out the carved skull that it held. This was the priceless gift that the people of the stars had brought to the Earth and its infant race.
The ship had travelled here from way beyond Earth’s own solar system, its origins the distant star systems of the galaxy, bringing with it gifts of a value and importance that Earth had never received before and never would again. Earth’s nascent human race was being given a helping hand; one that would open the door to the evolution of its consciousness and the achievement of its full potential. It would be nurtured, protected and guided. At first from a distance, a subtle energetic influence would lightly touch and, when the time was right, awaken the latent skills and abilities that would otherwise remain undiscovered and unused. This loving, benevolent and guiding hand would set humanity on its path to true understanding and lead it gently forwards.
Far below, a small party was battling its way through the fetid humidity and dense, clutching undergrowth of the jungle. Vines and creepers, some swollen as thick as a man’s waist in the dripping warmth, hung in tangled, impenetrable curtains. The explorers were making slow, energy-sapping progress, besieged by biting insects while the moisture-laden air robbed every breath of oxygen. There was no trail for them to follow, and they had no choice but to hack out each hard-won step of the way through vegetation that even their toughened knives, honed to a razor edge that no Earth-found metal could ever hold, struggled to conquer. They had descended to the surface at the nearest possible point to their destination, which was hidden deep in the trees, and they did not have far to travel – a few miles at most – but in these difficult conditions it would be almost a day’s punishing trek.
It was an incongruous and exotic looking group of men and women, drawn from each of the races involved in this ambitious operation. Tall slender Pleiadians, golden-haired Thetans and bronze-skinned Sirians trekked side by side with short, squat Metulians, small, delicate-boned Eleusians, and the strange childlike forms of the Arcturians. At the head of the group, two powerfully built males from the Alpha Centauri system opened up the path, wielding their huge machetes like machines. Yet others followed on behind. They carried with them a small square box of a dull grey metal, inscribed with strange symbols and geometric shapes. This box held the final element of that precious cargo. All the others had already been set in their chosen places, concealed securely within the protective embrace of the Earth.
Their objective was a small gully that sliced through the hillside, so well camouflaged by the vegetation that the Alpha-Centaureans did not see it until they were right on top of it, and only narrowly missed plunging headlong. It was not deep, barely thirty feet at most, and its floor was pleasantly cool after the heat of the trek. At the gully head, a small waterfall tumbled prettily over moss-covered rocks, its stream gushing through a narrow channel at the far end where the slope of the hill descended to meet it. One by one the party climbed down, appreciating the fresh, pure water that quenched their thirsts.
Behind the waterfall, a narrow crack pierced the wall of moisture-drenched grey rock, opening out into a deep recess a little further inside. This was where the treasure would remain until the time was right to bring it into direct contact with the human race.
One of the taller men now stepped forward. He was slender with blond, almost white hair that hung like silk to below his shoulders. His moustache and beard were of the same colour and from beneath his pale eyebrows, intelligent, vividly blue eyes looked out on the world. This was Artem, elected leader of the Galactic Council. In his hand lay a strange-looking key made of pure gold. It was about the length of a man’s hand and shaped like an ‘f’ and a ‘j’, attached at 180° to each other from a small centre circle.
Artem indicated for the box to be brought to him. It had no visible catch or lock, but as he pressed the key into a matching indentation on its side the top slid open; reaching inside, he drew out the carved skull that it held. This was the priceless gift that the people of the stars had brought to the Earth and its infant race.
* * * * *
There were thirteen in all, thirteen skulls skilfully and lovingly carved by races of beings from far beyond our world. Beings who wished to see us thrive. These races had each created a skull and downloaded it with all the knowledge and wisdom they possessed: technology, physics, mathematics, understanding of the ways of the universe and the energy that guides it, and much more besides. Every skull held immense power, carrying the specific essence of the beings who had fashioned it, able to generate huge levels of energy. In addition, each held the consciousness of the unity within it – a deep understanding of the One-ness, of the supremacy of love and of its power to create. Thirteen skulls, each powerful in its own right, but which, when brought together, could create – or destroy – worlds.
The peoples who had brought forth these treasures were highly evolved, with an understanding of life, consciousness and unseen energies that remains beyond the grasp of humankind even in the twenty first century. Each of the skulls was created from a powerful mineral that would enhance its individual essence – clear quartz, amethyst, blue and black obsidian, and rose quartz among others – and add its own vibration and characteristics to the whole. They would be placed at selected points on the Earth’s surface, points carefully chosen to carry their influence throughout the entire planet. Thirteen skulls, precisely positioned around the world. They would be spread thinly, but it would be sufficient. Neither would they be evenly spaced geographically. It was not necessary. Every chosen location was an energy centre or major confluence of the planet’s energy grid lines, from where these voices could spread rapidly outwards in all directions, carried freely through the web of this matrix.
The peoples who had brought forth these treasures were highly evolved, with an understanding of life, consciousness and unseen energies that remains beyond the grasp of humankind even in the twenty first century. Each of the skulls was created from a powerful mineral that would enhance its individual essence – clear quartz, amethyst, blue and black obsidian, and rose quartz among others – and add its own vibration and characteristics to the whole. They would be placed at selected points on the Earth’s surface, points carefully chosen to carry their influence throughout the entire planet. Thirteen skulls, precisely positioned around the world. They would be spread thinly, but it would be sufficient. Neither would they be evenly spaced geographically. It was not necessary. Every chosen location was an energy centre or major confluence of the planet’s energy grid lines, from where these voices could spread rapidly outwards in all directions, carried freely through the web of this matrix.
* * * * *
The skull that emerged into the light that day in the gully glowed a deep rich purple, pulsing with a power that could be felt by all those who clustered around it. This was the final skull and perhaps the most important: the Master, created jointly by the twelve races who were part of this ambitious and world-changing project. When all the skulls were one day re-united, it would be the Master who would act as the nerve centre, gathering, focusing and amplifying their energy.
Artem raised the skull and touched it to his brow in a gesture of gratitude and respect, then handed it to the small figure of the Arcturian, the only one there small enough to squeeze through the narrow fissure. Entering the cave was like entering a magical fantasy world. Glittering crystals grew from the walls, the roof, the floor; some were miniscule, others as tall as he was. It stretched deep into the hillside, far back beyond where the light reached. To one side was a small pool, inky black and bottomless, and behind it, jutting out from the wall, a low shelf that glistened milky white. It had the smooth texture of a stalactite, and had been formed from the calcite deposits in the water that dripped constantly down the wall at this point and ran into the pool.
He laid the skull on the ledge. Immediately it flamed with an inner fire as it connected to the energy lines that ran through this place. Fingers of gold flickered through its depths, crackling audibly in their intensity An ethereal net of electric blue lines blazed through the cave. It had begun.
Artem raised the skull and touched it to his brow in a gesture of gratitude and respect, then handed it to the small figure of the Arcturian, the only one there small enough to squeeze through the narrow fissure. Entering the cave was like entering a magical fantasy world. Glittering crystals grew from the walls, the roof, the floor; some were miniscule, others as tall as he was. It stretched deep into the hillside, far back beyond where the light reached. To one side was a small pool, inky black and bottomless, and behind it, jutting out from the wall, a low shelf that glistened milky white. It had the smooth texture of a stalactite, and had been formed from the calcite deposits in the water that dripped constantly down the wall at this point and ran into the pool.
He laid the skull on the ledge. Immediately it flamed with an inner fire as it connected to the energy lines that ran through this place. Fingers of gold flickered through its depths, crackling audibly in their intensity An ethereal net of electric blue lines blazed through the cave. It had begun.
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