'The art of cleaning is the science of Being.' The Cleaners
I rested for a couple of days, but the warm echo never really left. I was now in a thoroughly confused state, wrestling with a myriad questions, and more pointedly, struggling with the circumstances that were unfolding. An urgent meeting was arranged with Rick and Mr Pasha.
We sat and collected ourselves at our customary place in the TXU. I explained what had happened with Alan Northwood and the visit from the Agents. Just saying it took everything out of me.
“I’m desperate, caught between two worlds I don’t understand. There’s one part of me that wishes to runaway, and another that wants to see it through, no matter what.”
There was an unusually long silence. Thoughts were heard.
Rick looked at Mr Pasha and said, “Time has run out.”
“So it appears,” replied Mr Pasha.
Both men’s gaze rested on me for a considerable time, as if they were resigning, or reconciling themselves to something.
“We wished for a better preparation, but the current conditions and speed of events now make that impossible. What I am about to tell you may be difficult to digest— the truth always is. In the end, it will be up to you to decide,” stated Mr Pasha.
“The M.O.G’s facility is a front, although it certainly undertakes research and development for the government. It is more like a prison. We have had it under surveillance for a long time. It is why our work is centred here,” Rick explained.
“Why your interest?” I asked.
“Our interest is not in the M.O.G. or its facility, but what it contains,” Rick continued.
Rick and Mr Pasha looked at each other again.
“Some time ago we were informed of the impending arrival of a special Being, an individual who could greatly assist our work—indeed, they would be central to it. Unfortunately, we were too late to make contact with them. There were ‘others’ that made contact first, and to our horror, kept captive this Being for some unknown purpose. This is when we became aware of the M.O.G. and its Agents,” explained Mr Pasha.
“What’s so special about this individual?” I asked.
Another silence ensued.
“They are a genuine messenger,” replied Rick.
My puzzled face was clearly evident.
“They have gone by many names over different epochs—such as angels, demons, prophets, sages, fools, idiots, wiseman, guides, shamans—however it is interpreted in the time of their arrival.
“For us, they are an intelligence of a higher order, able to crystallize their pure consciousness into the conception of a planetary body of a Being. Once they have adapted themselves to the corresponding conditions of life, they have the opportunity to help others similar to themselves.
“What help?” I asked.
“They become a source of light, of a particular quality of energy that can, by its very essence, raise the being of a Being. The constant emanation can provide the necessary resources for a receptive portion of humanity to awaken. These awakened few can then help awaken others, and so on and so forth.
“The relentless struggle to propagate the purification of being is the only hope for humanity to lift itself up out of the muck and earn its rightful place in the cosmos.”
It was all difficult to digest as Mr Pasha said. My head was spinning, yet was able to follow. I wanted to ask many questions, like who informed them of the impending arrival of the individual, the special Being, and how did they become aware of the M.O.G? But there was a more pressing question to ask.
“What does the M.O.G. want with them?
“We don’t know, but speculate that, like all ego-driven things of this world, they will want to ‘study’ them, as a scientist studies a lab rat,” explained Rick.
Mr Pasha followed, “You see, a genuine messenger is the greatest threat to the existing ego-architecture of humanity. Evolution, revolution and transformation are part of their nature. Nothing can destroy this, not even death.
“But the energy they freely provide, like the Sun that freely gives its rays to earth, like the earth that freely gives its air to us, can be used in different ways—some helpful, some not so helpful for our work. This is why such an individual needs to be protected from the ego-powers that seek to control, dominate and manipulate them.
“In time’s past, many safeguards were put in place. But the world has radically changed. Technology has exploded. Time has accelerated. Humanity’s filth deepens, matched only by its lack of awareness to understand its way out.”
“What is to be done now?” I asked.
“What does any prisoner need?—to leave the prison, escape bondage,” said Mr Pasha.
“Do you have a plan?” I enquired.
“Yes, but we need your help. We have a narrow window of opportunity. A coordinated effort is needed. It will involve some risk.”
“What sort of risk?” I asked nervously.
“If the M.O.G knew we were in communication with the Being, I suspect we would all be dead by now,” explained Mr Pasha. “But we must move quickly, the window of opportunity approaches soon. We will have further details. In the meantime, speak with Kel, she will help you understand what to do.”
I went home, much quietened by everything I heard. It all seemed surreal. If I hadn’t been a witness, I’d thought it stuff of wild imagination.
Could it be true that under the TXU, a special Being —some kind of alien or embodied angel perhaps— lies incarcerated by a perversion of humanity that seeks to exploit it? All this was well beyond my comfort zone.
What was clear was that both the Cleaners and the Agents had equally serious intent, with equally serious consequences. Who could I trust?
I immediately went over to Kel’s house, and explained what had happened but she already knew.
“How do you know?” I asked.
“Well…. only recently has it been clearer in my ‘moments’ how things may unfold. It’s been difficult communicating. My attention is not strong enough to carry the feelings, the data, the Being transmits, and takes a great deal of effort to decrypt the information. But we have enough now,” she explained.
“Are you talking about telepathy Kel?”
“Kind of. I don’t understand it myself. In moments of deep receptivity, direct communication becomes possible. The mind is too coarse to comprehend. It is limited.
“The feelings and sensations however, don’t hold the same restrictions. Time and space are relative. It is difficult to describe, but one can sense a change of feeling or emotion as if it has come from outside—you know it is not your own—it blends with you.
“These feelings can be overwhelming. The quality of energy is from a another level of reality. For me, the information it is often proceeded by a deep remorse, a sincere humbling. It is like my body needs a certain type of preparation before it can receive the intentions of the one who transmits.
I was taken aback. This description resonated sharply with my experience after the Agents had left a few nights ago. Was the Being trying to communicate with me like it did with Kel? Was it just all in my head?
I let her continue without saying anything.
“It seems my father is involved. He is still active in military and government intelligence, and once headed up the ‘psychic spies’ program for the Department of Defence.”
“Psychic spies?” I queried.
“A ‘remote viewing’ unit of the military. It was responsible for collecting intelligence through a controlled form of clairvoyance. There are rumours that experiments were conducted between the unit and its counterpart in the MKULTRA program—pharmacological mind control— to develop advanced ESP technologies.
“After twenty years of active service, the unit was apparently shut down. The Agents you encountered are a product of that program.
“We don’t know anymore than that. However, we suspect the M.O.G.’s facility is now their headquarters. It would explain their interest in the captured Being.
By now, I was getting used to my world being turned upside down. I wanted to focus on the practicalities to ground me.
“Mr Pasha indicated that you would know what to do to help the Being escape,” I said.
“Not quite,” Kel explained. “From what we’ve gathered, the Being is kept constantly sedated, making communication difficult. Between doses there’s a small window of a few minutes where the Being’s consciousness may be strong enough to help us.
“This is where you come in. During the time window, we need the TXU emptied, a complete absence of people. This will allow the necessary conditions to enter the facility.
“But how do we enter, I thought the facility had advanced security?” I asked.
“The security is advanced. They have remote viewers constantly scanning to intercept communications. It worked for them last time.
“Fortunately, there are weaknesses in their physical security. It appears they don’t anticipate anyone wanting to enter in the way we can. No matter, time is running out for everyone, and we must act. Can you clear the TXU when we need it?” she asked.
“Yes. It will be difficult. I’ll need to be careful not to draw suspicion, but a building wide fire drill should do the trick,” I explained.
“Excellent. Schedule it for 3:00pm tomorrow. By the time the building is cleared, we should be able to access the facility within the window of opportunity,” Kel said.
We both looked at each other with a sense of mission.