Time to Time: Ashton Ford, Psychic Detective (Ashton Ford Series) (13 page)

BOOK: Time to Time: Ashton Ford, Psychic Detective (Ashton Ford Series)
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Chapter Twenty-three:
 
Tagged and Bagged

If you keep up with
the UFO stuff then you probably already know that many people who experience
so-called encounters of the third kind—usually an abduction experience—have
very little conscious memory of the encounter until the echoes of it begin to
plague their dreams or until they seek therapy for a mental disturbance caused
by the encounter. Hypnosis is usually employed in the latter case, the victims
regressed, and the story extracted from their subconscious, such as in the
highly publicized case of the New England couple, Betty and Barney Hill. The
Hill case has become a textbook example of such encounters, in which the
victims usually remember seeing a UFO and then report a discontinuity of
experience, sometimes with a memory gap of many hours.

Under
hypnotic regression, they then relate a terrifying story of capture by strange
beings who subject them to medical examinations but otherwise treat them kindly
and let them go.

For
a close parallel with a better yardstick, try to put yourself inside the hide
of an endangered animal such as a bear or mountain goat in the American West
who is chased down by a helicopter and shot with a tranquilizer gun by an
animal conservation team, then either tagged for future tracking or airlifted
to a better feeding area.

How
do you describe the experience to your friends? More than that, how do you
explain it to yourself?

A
human is surely in every respect as much or more an alien to a mountain goat as
visitors from the Pleiades are to us. Don't try to tell the mountain goat where
Denver is located, certainly not Los Angeles, and don't expect him ever to
understand why these strange creatures who walk upright on their hind legs
swoop down from the skies to abduct him, stick sharp objects into him or attach
strange devices to him, then let him go.

Of
course we can find an even closer parallel. Roll it back a few thousand or even
a few hundred years with a time machine and go exploring with a Land Rover, see
what kind of stories are developed by intelligent human beings of that time
frame who encounter you during your explorations.

To
get an idea, though, of just how close to us—how much like us—are these modern
aliens in their terrifying flying machines, consider the human world of just
two hundred years ago and check how far we have advanced technologically in
that short span of time. You've turned the clock back in just two centuries to
the time before railroads or steamships, before radio or the telegraph, before
vaccinations or blood transfusions or even anesthesia. That is the more alien
world to people of today. Space travel and supersonic transportation—radio and television
and global communications networks—organ transplants and test-tube
babies—automobiles and freeways and subways and skyscrapers—there is the alien
world to men like Ben Franklin or Thomas Jefferson, neither of whom could have
accommodated a mental model of our world from their viewpoint of a mere two
hundred years ago.

So
what if the Pleiadians are a couple of hundred years more advanced than us.
That does not make them gods. If our technological pace of only the past fifty years
continues into the year 2200
a.d.,
how quaint will our world of today seem to our descendants?

So
I find it very strange that men and women today speak from our halls of science
in such limiting terms, who ridicule without even investigating any report of
visitors from other worlds, who use our own infantile understanding of science
and technology as a yardstick to measure the limitations of older worlds than
ours.

Isaac
Newton could have had no mental model of the Concorde SST or even a Piper Cub.
In his wildest fantasies he could not have concocted a vision of today's La
Guardia Airport or the launchpads at Cape Kennedy'— not even the automobile or
express elevator or the Empire State building—motion
pictures?—television?—Yankee Stadium?—how about a vacuum cleaner, when he did
not even know electricity?

Does
the average person today really understand how far we have come in just the
past century? Or how about just the past sixty years, the beginning of which
marked Lindbergh's heroic flight across the Atlantic?

So
what about Julie Marsini's "new world" and what could that signify?

Could
it mean that Planet Earth is about to become a member of the intergalactic community
of enlightened worlds?

Or
were we going to be chastised and demoted and sent back to try to learn it
right next time?

I
had never been a doomsayer and I had never feared new ideas, new ways, new
growth. I saw no reason to begin that now. And Donovan had really given me no
reason to fear him. Quite the opposite, he had shown me every reason to trust
him. God or whatever, I liked the guy. I just wished that I could get over the
nagging worry that maybe we were no more than a laboratory planet, and that
these guys were coming back to try some new experiments on us.

I
did not want to be relocated, like the mountain goat, to a new feeding ground
even though a better one, nor did I wish to be tagged and tracked and monitored
for the rest of my small life on this obscure planet.

Hell,
they already had me tagged.

There
was a new star in the heavens directly above my house. I spotted it at first
dark. And then I went back to Julie for another go at total recall, muttering
to myself, "God help us all."

I
did not want a repetition of the conclusion to the first trance so this time I
devoted a few preliminary minutes to the proper conditioning of my subject. I
worked in some posthypnotic codes that would greatly shorten the induction
routines in any future sessions, then I built in some controls to strengthen my
own influence while she was in trance.

"You
will hear and respond only to my voice."

"Okay."

"If
any other voice attempts to speak to you, any voice other than my own, you will
immediately awaken. Understand? Any other voice speaking to you will
immediately break the trance."

"I
understand."

"You
will then immediately return to trance when I tell you to. I will place my hand
on your forehead and I will say, 'Go back, Julie.' You will then return to the deepest
trance level and you will be responsive only to my voice."

"Okay.
I understand."

"You
will speak to me only in the English language. No other tongues.
Understand?"

"Yes."

"Fine.
Stay comfortable. When did you first meet Donovan?"

"Long
ago."

"How
long ago?"

Julie
fidgeted a bit, snapped her eyes at me, replied: "Not sure. Long
ago."

It
can be a bit unnerving sometimes to work with a subject's eyes open and
expressive—and of course not every subject can remain in trance with the eyes
open— but I have found that mode much more productive if it can be achieved.
Eyes can speak volumes with no help whatever from the voice.

There
were barriers around Donovan in Julie's consciousness, perhaps very carefully
constructed barriers. I did not want to push too hard against those defenses.
There are better ways.

“When
did you first meet Penny Laker?"

"Penelope
Powers."

"What?"

"You
said you wanted her other name."

"That
was last time, Julie. You are carrying over from the first trance. I want to
leave the first trance behind us for now. Okay?"

"Okay."

"So
when did you first meet Penny or Penelope?"

"Long
ago."

"When
you were about eighteen? Or before that?"

"Before
that."

"I
want you to let go of present time and space. Drift back, back through the
years to your first meeting with Penny and I—"

"Let's
use Penelope. I can talk about Penelope."

See?
Even in trance, the mind is fully there. Sometimes a subject will help you find
a way around a memory block.

"Fine.
That's good. I want to talk about Penelope. We're floating back to your first
meeting. Tell me when you are there."

"Okay.
I can see her."

Julie's
voice changed subtly as she said that, became almost childlike. This is common
in regression experiences. Sometimes that is good and sometimes it is not, as
you shall see.

"What
is Penelope wearing?"

A
very tiny and immature voice responded, "Angel."

"She
is an angel?"

She
clapped her hands together and squealed delightedly, heaving upright and
grasping her ankles in both hands and staring with fascinated eyes at some
phantom scene projected from the mind.

"Stay
with me, Julie. Stay out of the scene. How is Penelope dressed?"

That
same tiny voice squealed, "Shiny! Angel!"

"How
old are you, Julie?"

She
held up three fingers for me to see but did not otherwise respond.

"Okay,
we're coming out of there but we're bringing the scene with us. Moving forward
as I speak. Four years old, five, ten, fifteen years old and back to the present:
but bring the memory with you. How was Penelope dressed?"

Julie
turned puzzled eyes to me. "I—Ashton? Am I awake or asleep?"

I
looked at her closely and asked her, "Why did you awaken?"

"I
don't know."

"Do
you remember what you awakened from?"

"No."

"So
okay, we're going back. On the numbers, the way we did it before. Deep sleep
again by the time we reach five. One...two...three...four...five and deeply
asleep, back where we were when you woke up. Why did you wake up, Julie?"

"Someone
talked to me."

"Who
talked to you?"

"Not
you."

"I
understand that. And I told you that you would awaken if someone else spoke to
you. Who spoke to you?"

"Ashton?"

I
put a hand to her forehead and commanded, "Goback, Julie. Back to the
depths, very deep. Are you okay?"

"I'm
fine."

"Who
spoke to you?"

"Dammit,
Ashton! What is going on here?"

It
was that quick, from deep trance to full wakefulness each time I touched that
barrier.

I
sighed, lit a cigarette, told my bewildered subject, "Sorry, kid. I've no
right to jerk you around like that. Let's take a break then try again."

Hell,
we had to try again. And I had to figure a way to outwit the gods in the
struggle for this woman's memory. Something was locked up in there, that was
certain. But this was a human mind, not a computer, and I could not hack my way
in there. Suddenly I realized that I'd gone about it all wrong. I was playing
the game backward.

I
did not need to outwit the gods.

I
just needed to get in touch with them.

Chapter Twenty-four:
 
Frames of Reality

"Are
you comfortable, Julie?"

"Yes."

"Stay
that way. Listen very closely, now. What I said earlier about waking up if you
hear other voices, I am now canceling that. That no longer applies. Here is
what I want you to do instead. Listen closely. I am your guide here. No one
else may guide you but me. If other voices come to you, let them in and let
them through, let them speak to me, and we will insist that they speak to me in
the English language. Do you understand?*'

"I
understand."

"Who
is Penelope Powers?"

"She
is my sister and I serve her."

“What
are you called?"

"I
am called Julie Marsini."

"Have
you ever been called anything else?"

"Yes,
I think so."

"What
name have you been called, other than Julie Marsini?"

"I
believe... I have been called..."

"Yes?
Give me the name."

It
came with a trill and a click and it sounded like "Luh-ill-ro-too."

"Thank
you. You told me yesterday that you thought you had been awakened by the
visitors. What did you mean by that?"

"My
true self awakened."

"I
see. And your true self is Luh-ill-ro-too?"

"Yes,
I think so."

"But
you are a native of earth."

"No."

"No?
Where, then?"

"Another
world. I don't know the name. I was brought here when I was very young."

"Who
brought your*

"Angels
brought me. And Poppa found me under a rock in Never Never Land."

"Aren't
you a bit confused, Julie? Who told you that angels brought you here?"

"Poppa
told me."

"I
see. Wasn't this just a fantasy? The kind a father would use to explain to his
little girl where babies come from?"

"I
saw the angels."

"You
saw them? When?"

"Many
times."

"You
mean when you were a little girl."

"Yes."

"What
did these angels look like?'

"Very
beautiful. Shining. They came at night and woke me up and we talked."

"I
see. Did any of them look like Penny?'

"I
think so. I think Penny is one of them."

"Like
Donovan?"

"D'Ahnov'e'n,
yes."

"Let's
talk about D'Ahnov'e'n."

"Okay."

"I
know that he is listening to us at this moment. He is here with us. Isn't
he?"

"I
am here, Ashton." It was Julie's vocal cords but the precision elocution
was pure Donovan.

"I
will talk to Donovan now, Julie. Stay close by, and come back when I tell you
to. Thank you for coming, Donovan. I hope I am not disappointing you, but I
feel that I must get to the bottom of this."

"You
have not disappointed us, Ashton. Why do you think we selected you? So that you
would do nothing?”

"Well
there's my problem, see. I don't know what it is you want me to do."

"You
are doing it."

"Just
the same, don't you think it'd be a good idea to let me in on the secret? Maybe
I could do it better and faster, tidier, if I know what it is."

"When
the time is right, be assured you will be told all. In the meantime it is
better for your own peace of mind that we proceed as we are proceeding."

"Will
you verify what Julie told me just before you joined us? Is she indeed
Luh-ill-ro-too?"

"She
was, yes."

"But
not now?"

"Not
now. You are wondering about her awakening."

"Yes.
Can we talk about that?"

"I
cannot volunteer information. But if you ask, I will try to answer."

"What
is going on here, Donovan?"

"Oh,
that's much too general. You'll have to get more specific."

"When
I walked through your fog this morning, did I hallucinate or was I actually in
another world for a while?"

"You
did not hallucinate."

"Where
was I?"

"Ashton,
there are many worlds. Be content to know that you visited one of them. You
would not understand more than that."

“I
resent that all to hell, Donovan. Don't presume what I will and will not
understand."

"Very
well." The rest of the statement came as a series of trills and clicks.

"Not
funny, brother. Translate that for me, please."

"You
have no language for what has not been experienced or imagined."

"I
have language for purple skies, bottomless canals, and dolphins with human
faces. Just fill in the blanks for me, please."

"You
can do that for yourself."

"Who
are you, D'Ahnov'e'n? What is your business with the human race? Why was Penny
alone and naked in the night and why did you send her husband to South America?
What is this new world you guys are pushing and how will it affect human
destiny? What—?”

“Ah
but you see, my brother, your destiny is our destiny. All your questions
resolve to that focus. Keep it there. We will come for you when it is
time."

“Time
for what?"

"Ashton?"

"Goddammit!
Time for what, Donovan?"

"Ashton!
There's no one here but you and me!"

Yeah.
He'd dumped Julie out of her trance. I put her back under only to bring her out
again in a proper way. Then we went out on the deck to commune with the
heavens.

Many
worlds, yes.

Many
more worlds than the naked eye could see or the human mind could imagine.

And
D'Ahnov'e'n's mobile world was still up there, shining down on us. I idly
wondered if ATC and NORAD were picking up anomalous propagation blips on their
radars, and which celestial mirage the astronomers were advancing to explain
that world to the press.

Linked
destiny, huh?

Okay.
I'd buy it. I knew that we could do a whole lot worse.

I
told Julie, "I talked to Donovan. He came through you while you were in
trance. Do you remember Luh-iill- ro-too?"

She
gave me a murky gaze and shook her head in a negative response.

I
said, "You are not an alien. Not now. But I believe you were in a previous
life, and your name then was Luh-ill-ro-too. That's not at all familiar to
you?"

She
shivered as she replied, "No, but the sound of it gives me goose
bumps."

"I
think," I told her, "that Luh-ill-ro-too was something like a
dolphin."

"Gee,
thanks." That verbal response was sarcastic, but the shiver in the eyes as
it was delivered was not. And neither was mine.

The
telepathic relay with Donovan was not particularly enlightening, but at least
it provided some mental clues to work with. First of all it confirmed an old
belief that the saucer people were telepaths and secondly that some form of
mind control explained the mental trauma of some contactees.

Just
put those two facts together and they are enough to shiver you, if you think
about it. Forget super-sophisticated weaponry and saucer razzle-dazzle; if those
people could produce mass psychic effects at long range through sheer power of
the mind, what other weaponry would be required?

Any
effect that can be produced through hypnosis can be produced by any direct
avenue into the subconscious. So if those guys could directly access your
subconscious telepathically then they could manipulate your reality in any way
that suited them. You tell a hypnotized subject in deep trance that a grizzly
bear just walked into the room and that subject will not only see and hear a
bear, he will smell it and even be able to touch it and to feel it touching
him, and he could even die from terror. That is the power of the subconscious
mind.

Tell
the same subject that the temperature just dropped forty degrees and he will
shiver and turn blue. Or he can be sitting in an air-conditioned office yet
suffering all the symptoms of heat prostration and dehydration because you told
him that he is lost in the middle of the Sahara.

He
will obligingly develop a rash if you tell him he has measles and he may even
remove all of his clothing in public if you tell him it is a nudist camp.

These
are examples of positive hallucination and autonomic confusion.

The
negatives are just as dramatic. Tell your subject at the theater that he is
alone in the building; he will not hear the music or see the actors or
otherwise be aware of any human presence.

A
subject who normally experiences an allergic reaction to cats will sit quite
comfortably in a room crawling with cats if you have told him that no animals
are present.

I
once participated in an experiment in which a nude subject was given a
posthypnotic suggestion that all the women in the world would become invisible
every day between the hours of noon and five o'clock; the PH had to be removed
the next day because the subject was crashing into his female employees while
frantically searching for them, and it was feared that he might run someone
down in his car if allowed to leave the office with the PH intact.

All
of these effects can be produced by amateurs experimenting with how-to books
on hypnosis. It can be very dangerous in irresponsible hands.

But
consider how dangerous it could be in expert and willful hands when the intent
is to disable and dominate.

I
was considering the danger of hostile alien telepaths who perhaps could
broadcast such illusions to an unsuspecting populace. They could even
conceivably telepathically beam specific control instructions to individuals in
the governments and armed forces.

If
these guys actually thought of themselves as gods...

So
maybe they were. A god, to qualify for the tide, should be omnipotent,
omniscient, and omnipresent. Did these guys qualify?

I
didn't know.

I
just did not know.

And
I decided that I really did not want to know.

BOOK: Time to Time: Ashton Ford, Psychic Detective (Ashton Ford Series)
11.78Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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