The Cauldron By Charles Goodwin Chapter 6

The Founding of Chiron

Chapter 6

Seeds of Awakening

The shimmering lights remind me of a painting by Renoir - or even the genius of Turner, thought Paul wistfully. I wished I had taken up oil painting. Maybe it’s not too late - maybe when I’m older...
The sun’s warmth shone bravely between the clearing clouds causing the dew on the foliage to glisten and sparkle. Shafts of golden light beamed down between the shadows, and the many differing shades of green bestowed form and shape to the trees and the grass. A slight mist still hung in the scented air.

In the pond amidst the rushes, a mother duck glided silently through the water, with her ducklings paddling less elegantly in formation behind her. A fresh clean, pranic sanctuary of peace and tranquility - away from the hustle and pain of the city.

Rebecca strolled arm in arm with Paul, along the winding narrow pathway through the gardens, experiencing the connectiveness of creation. Observing with alertness - beyond the mind - without allowing thoughts to create comparisons to past memories.

‘It is beautiful,’ remarked Paul, breaking the enchanting spell.

‘It is,’ Rebecca whispered, not in judgment but acknowledging a profound yet simple affirmation.

‘You said you needed to talk to me. What about? asked Paul softly.

Rebecca halted and turned her eyes upon Paul. She uttered her opening words carefully to avoid conveying any hint of accusation. ‘Last night - when we were at the restaurant - my apartment was professionally searched and ‘bugged’. Monica was assaulted. She was viciously pistol whipped on the back of the head and left unconscious.’

Paul’s face looked stunned. ‘Pistol whipped! Is she all right?’

Rebecca nodded. ‘Yes thank God - but she just as easily could have been killed.’

‘I see....’

‘No you don’t see!’ she snapped, her voice now distraught. ‘Paul - I’m being watched - listened to - and probably followed! I’m scared out of my senses. I want you tell me what the hell is going on!’ Her eyes became moist with tears of frustrated release.

Paul held her protectively at arms length, his surprise now replaced with suspicion. ‘Hey, I can see you’re understandably upset. But try to calm down. Let’s go through it a step at a time. Now tell me - how do you know your flat is bugged?’

Rebecca wiped her eyes, then sniffed and took a deep breath before answering. ‘A receiver van was parked outside all night. It was replaced by a similar van this morning. I’ve seen them before - identical vehicles - used by the Dutch Peace Keepers!’

Paul’s expression became grave. ‘I understand,’ he said slowly. ‘But what did you mean, when you asked me to tell you ‘what is going on’? You don’t suspect that I put them up to it, do you?’ He paused looking offended. ‘You are active in the peace movement and would obviously be on their files. Surely that would be the logical reason for the surveillance.’

‘Of course I don’t think that you put them up to it! But the surveillance must be to do with our meeting - it has to be! I’m simply not that important. Otherwise, why would they go to so much effort?’ Rebecca was emphatic.

She has a point, he thought as his mind grappled for the solution. The Dutch peace movement’s membership alone, numbers in the hundreds - so why Rebecca? And besides - there was no mention of surveillance in the file.

‘Don Ormsby,’ said Paul dryly. ‘That snake Ormsby must be having us watched.’

Rebecca glared with both curiosity and fermenting anger. ‘Who the hell is Don Ormsby? And why would he have my apartment searched?’

Paul was hesitant. His eyes flashed uncertainty. ‘Please - let me think for a few seconds. I’m not sure where to begin.’

Rebecca removed his hands from her waist and took a half step back. ‘I’m waiting for an explanation Paul.’

‘I guess I owe you an apology as well as an explanation.’

‘An apology? I don’t understand.’

‘Look, firstly you can be assured the surveillance will be stopped immediately. No harm will come to you or Monica. I promise you.’

Rebecca listened intently. A stronger, more masterly side to his personality became apparent.

‘From the moment I first saw you plunge into the canal and then struggle up that bank, I had this mysterious spooky feeling - as if I was meant to be parked there waiting for you. I felt enthralled by you. And then when you awoke and knew my name - I had to know more about you. I couldn’t stop myself. It’s my business training - first do the homework! He paused and focused penetratingly into Rebecca’s eyes, grasping for a ray of understanding.

‘Go on Paul, I’m listening.’

‘And later of course, I desperately had to know your address. Anyhow, I rang Don Ormsby, who is one of our company’s lawyers, and asked to view your file.’

‘Are you saying this Don Ormsby character works for you?’

‘No he doesn’t work directly for me. Don Ormsby is employed by my father. One of Don’s duties is to keep an eye on me - albeit for my own protection, mind you.’

For your own protection! You’ve got to be kidding, thought Rebecca.

Paul continued. ‘I knew that Don has access to files held by the ISF, the International Security Force. So I asked him to obtain your file.’

‘By the ISF - do you mean the Peace Keepers?’ asked Rebecca.

‘That’s correct. The name ‘Peace Keepers’ is simply a marketing ploy to win public approval for the ‘International Security Force’ concept,’ justified Paul, unapologetically.

Rebecca was inwardly seething. ‘Hang on a minute Paul, the Peace Keepers are akin to the Gestapo under Hitler. They rule by intimidation and brutality!’

Paul smiled condescendingly. ‘I don’t think there’s any point, right now in explaining the necessity for their existence. You wouldn’t understand.’

‘Try me!’ cringed Rebecca, and still attempting to hide her outrage.

Paul felt he was being drawn into a conversation not of his choosing. Rebecca had this annoying manner of making him feel that he needed to justify his very existence. A part of him felt like a sixth grader alone after school with his heart throb school teacher.

‘All right. If that is what you want!’ he said with eyes that crinkled with defiance.
‘The principle of Global unification was never going to be a possibility while the different secret services of the world insisted on mistrusting and spying on each other. The individual intelligence services, unlike the Governments and their armed forces, were the main stumbling block. Nor would they relinquish either their power bases, or their huge budgets, until it could be demonstrated that their domestic authority would be greatly increased to compensate for their loss. An incredibly amount of tough negotiations had to take place with the hierarchies of the major intelligence units before an agreement could be reached.’

Rebecca cut in firing. ‘So the Peace Keepers were created for two primary reasons - each as sinister as the other - firstly as a trade off in power, and secondly - to suppress any opposition for the Global unification policy, arising from their own people!’
Paul seemed to be confirming some of her own suspicions.

‘You seem to be justifying the Peace Keepers’ gangsterism!’ she continued. ‘And what about the Radicals? Were they also created - as an excuse for the establishment of the peace Keepers?’

‘Rebecca, I said you wouldn’t understand. At least first hear me out before you pass judgment,’ insisted Paul.

Rebecca remained uneasy but nodded for Paul to continue.

‘I agree that the Radicals are a poisonous phenomena which have to be eradicated. They are anarchists as well as terrorists. But please believe me, when I say that their origins are as much a mystery to me as they are to you.’

‘I believe you,’ said Rebecca calmly. ‘Please go on.’

‘The security services were huge power bases unto themselves. They simply became too difficult to control. Their existence and funding depended on the level of unrest and strife in the world. I mean - you can’t imagine, how many assassinations, wars, strikes and change of governments, they were responsible for.’
Paul’s expression turned deadly serious. ‘And I don’t just mean banana Republics either. All under the guise of national security. As the availability of nuclear and biological weapons increased on the black market - there were no alternatives!’

‘So the end justifies the means? You and your masters don’t desire peace in the world. You want an ordered and efficient world,’ challenged Rebecca.

Paul expanded his chest like a proud member of the Hitler youth. ‘If the end scenario is the correct and natural outcome, then the means to attain that end - within reasonable limits - has to be correct.’

Rebecca felt an acidic discomfort welling in her throat. She scowled at him displeasingly.

Paul noted her displeasure and again found himself justifying his statements.

‘Rebecca, I live in the real world - rather than some utopian dream state. Peace has never existed in nature at any level. And to assume that humans are apart from nature is vanity. Order and survival is the best we can ever hope to achieve.’ He paused and wondered if he’d overstated his remarks.

Rebecca’s fiery energy began to transform into compassion. Paul had been indoctrinated - brainwashed to the point of right wing fanaticism. He needed understanding. Further conflict in his life would only reinforce his restricted attitudes. She resolved to exercise patience and tolerance.

Paul however, saw Rebecca as an idealist. Loving, intelligent and sensual - but never the less, a poetic idealist.

‘If you are yet to experience peace in your soul, I can understand why you settle for less,’ she said gently. ‘But you presumably possess a conscious - surely the difference between what is right or just, and what is wrong, must influence your thinking. You sometimes talk so coldly - even when human lives are at stake!’

Paul was unrepentant. ‘And your world seems clouded by your personalized judgments of so called good and evil - and your persistent search to find a safe and secure meaning to life.’
He turned and gestured at the surrounding Park. ‘Why falsely assume there is meaning to this existence? This creation - this whole universe - is here because it is here! It exists! It’s only out of fear we seek the meaning - or reasons why! Science may answer ‘what’ or ‘how events happen. Philosophy and religion are left to make the crude attempts at speculating why things happen. All of the concepts of God you spoke of, are based in fear - not love!’

‘And yet in the restaurant last night you said that you intuitively felt that fate had brought us together for a reason,’ replied Rebecca accenting for a reason and illustrating the part destiny plays in the play of creation.

A frown creased Paul’s forehead and he answered her with exasperation. ‘It seems you are right. I’ve checkmated myself. See what you do to me? Right now - I feel my whole life is a contradiction. It’s so damn frustrating!’

‘Paul, you are one hell of a challenge to me too,’ she answered grinning. ‘Perhaps the truth encompasses both of our views. After all - truth is total.’

The unspoken declaration of truce resulted in a brief silence. Although Rebecca’s curiosity demanded to learn as much information as possible from Paul, her better judgment concluded that it was appropriate to return to the subject of the surveillance.

‘So this Don Ormsby took it upon himself to order the surveillance?’

‘Yes it looks that way. Because of your peace movement involvement - he must have become overzealous.’

‘In the mean time poor Monica was nearly killed.’

He held her once again in his arms. ‘Darling - I can’t tell you how sorry I am. Believe me - if Don is responsible - he will be made to pay for his actions. Please Rebecca, tell me you forgive me.’ Paul looked at her in earnest. His blue eyes pleaded for understanding.

‘Yes, I do believe you - and I forgive you,’ answered Rebecca with finality.

‘Thank you,’ he said and the tension in his face eased. ‘I will also arrange compensation for Monica.

‘Do you still have my file in your possession?’

‘No - at least I discovered that I do in fact possess a conscience. I destroyed the file as soon as I obtained your address. I actually felt a twinge of shame for the first time in my life.’

‘I suppose in a way Paul, I should feel honored. You cared enough about me to find out where I lived. I guess I am part responsible - I set you the task of tracking me down.’ A hint of seduction returned to those alluring eyes. ‘Darling, I have nothing to hide from you. If it is that important to you - you need only to ask. I’ll gladly tell you about myself - whatever you wish to know.’

‘I wanted to tell you about the file at the restaurant last night but I was afraid you may have abandoned me for good. I just couldn’t bare to lose you.’

Rebecca hugged Paul firmly. She gazed up into his eyes as tears of happiness trickled onto her cheeks. ‘On the contrary darling - I’m hopelessly in love with you. You seem such a lost little boy - It seems I simply can’t stay angry with you.’

‘Oh Rebecca, I love you so intensely,’ he replied breathless. ‘I can’t understand these feelings.... I’ve fallen for you completely.’

‘Kiss me Paul,’ whispered Rebecca and she closed her eyes.

Paul embraced her with hungry devotion.
Their lips met.
A tingling sensation - their auric fields attuned each to the other’s vibrational frequency. The surrender of unconditional love - releasing - letting go - merging; deeper into the blissful nothingness of totality. Chakric hues of gold and mauve - fused with passion red - enveloped them in a protective egg shaped cradle of manifested unity and exhilaration.

Like cosmic lightning, pillared staffs of brilliant healing light, burst forth through the astrals, powerfully dispersing part of the dense negative thought and fear forms that pollute and choke the planet.

And prompted by the joyful radiance, aware souls of the higher realms, celebrated Paul and Rebecca’s awaited reunion.

Rebecca’s heart heard the subtle inner whisper. ‘So mote it be. Soul marriages truly are made in heaven.’
When the cycle of each renewal begins, soul mates again merge - encompassing ever higher dimensions simultaneously - far beyond both the illusion of time and the conscious understanding of all but the highest enlightened beings.’

‘Quack, quack, quack!’

They glanced towards the pond. Through a clearing in the rushes, the mother duck and her ducklings were cutely lined up as spectators and were inquisitively eyeing the embracing lovers.

‘Oh darling,’ exclaimed Rebecca, ‘I told you I had a feeling we were being watched.’

For a few brief precious moments they peered wondrously at the pond and the intoxicating surroundings of the park.

Paul spoke first - his tone now serious. ‘Your comment about the ducks has brought me back to earth with a thud. We may be watched even at this moment. I think we’d better head back to the hotel, and I’ll make the necessary phone calls.’

Rebecca agreed without hesitation.

‘How long will it take to lift the surveillance?’ she asked, as they paced briskly towards the exit of the park.

‘Oh, once I make contact with Don - almost immediately. Give it thirty minutes at the outside,’ he reassured. ‘Now don’t worry -leave it to me.’

Rebecca still felt unease. Yet in some instinctive way, she also knew events were happening exactly as they were meant to. As if the outcome already existed on a different plane.

A chill suddenly shivered down her spine. She trembled and clutched Paul’s hands even tighter.

‘Is there anything wrong Rebecca?’

‘I just felt someone evil stomp over my grave.’

‘Superstitious nonsense! You are being too dramatic,’ mused Paul.

‘I hope so.....that is for certain,’ she replied, imitating a strong Dutch accent, without any understanding why!


‘Donald, it’s Paul here,’ shouted Paul in a state of near rage - his eyes flashing vehemently. ‘What the hell do you think you’re up to?’

Rebecca shuddered. She could hear Paul’s penetrating anger coming from the bedroom in his suite. The sheer power of his voice alone, intimidated her.

‘What are you getting at Paul?’ Don replied in a subdued defensive voice that was almost a whisper.

‘How dare you snake with me! You know damn well what I’m referring to. You had the audacity to have Rebecca Childs placed under surveillance. Her apartment is bugged! Now don’t deny it! I insist you tell me why?’

‘I. .I don’t deny it. How did you find out?’

‘Never mind how I know,’ blasted Paul with all the thunder of Thor. ‘I asked you a question - I’m waiting for your answer!

Don hesitated, his mind raced to formulate the right reply. ‘Calm down Paul. Give me a chance to explain.’

‘Well get on with it!’

‘You know part of my job is to protect you. Rebecca Childs is an active member of the peace movement. To place her under surveillance was routine. I was only looking out for your interest! What else was I supposed to do?’

Paul trembled with restrained anger. He breathed deeply to draw in the necessary breath to answer. And then he let it rip!

‘I’ll tell you what you will do - you will have the surveillance stopped immediately. You will never - I repeat never - order anybody - even remotely connected to me, to be watched without my prior agreement. And further more - I’ve had enough of your contemptible ‘baby sitting watchdog’ attitude. Unless you give me a guarantee, right now, to be unequivocally loyal to me only - I’ll have you fired. Your name will be black-listed everywhere. Don, do you understand?’ Paul’s words lashed as cutting as a stock whip.

‘I understand Paul. I understand,’ replied Don, his doleful voice now almost at a whimper. ‘I’ll have the surveillance lifted. But we urgently need to arrange a meeting to discuss the rest. The situation is rather more complicated than you realize.’
‘And what do you mean by that?’ snapped Paul.

‘I am loyal Paul - however, I’m forced to answer to two masters. I end up the meat in the proverbial sandwich.’

‘You’re no doubt referring to my father?’

Don was quiet but forthright with his answer. ‘Yes of course - either way my job is threatened! I try to do my best - often in the most trying and difficult circumstances.’

Paul felt a large measure of understanding for Don’s unenviable predicament. He knew well what his tyrannical father was capable of. He calmed down and considered the situation before replying.

‘Now listen carefully.’ Paul’s voice was now more genial and reconciling, ‘It seems I’m going to be in a most advantageous position in the near future. I’ll need a reliable and pragmatic right hand man - a man I can trust explicitly - someone who will protect my back. You could be that person. We can overcome my father’s psychosis - as long as you always report to me first.’

‘I hear what you are saying Paul. Naturally I’d prefer to come to a workable arrangement with you.’

‘You haven’t any choice,’ replied Paul, ‘My father would not give a damn about letting you go if I insisted. And I would resign before I’d allow you to remain on the staff.’ He then added with a dagger like thrust, ‘Of course whether or not he would allow you to live is another issue - depending no doubt upon what you are privy to!’

Don replied with the solemnity of an undertaker. ‘There’s no need to threaten me. I’m in far too deep to get out of this alive. I realize I’m expendable...’ His voice trailed off to a faint whisper. ‘And have I your assurance that in return you’ll protect my back - particularly with your father?’

‘You have my word Don.’

‘Then it’s a deal,’ said Don sounding relieved. He paused then his voice suddenly changed to a more strident tone. ‘Paul - you realize you have been kept in the dark on quite a number of important matters.’

‘I can well imagine!’ said Paul stiffly. ‘Rather than risk talking over the phone, we’ll meet tomorrow morning and discuss this further. I will be most interested to hear what you have to say.’

‘And so would I!’ whispered Rebecca to herself, overhearing Paul’s words as she sat with ears pricked on the chesterfield.

‘Hell I almost forgot,’ exclaimed Don with urgency, ‘I tried to ring your rooms twenty minutes ago. You must return to Austria this evening on the 6 PM flight. When you began yelling at me - it completely slipped my mind. I’ll drive you to the airport myself and we can talk on the way.’

‘6 PM this evening!’ objected Paul. ‘No way! I’ll need at least a couple more days in Amsterdam. Why the rush? What’s on - do you know?’

‘The fax didn’t say. Only that it was imperative you catch the 6 PM flight and return to Austria. Apparently you will receive further instructions upon arrival.’

‘Well I won’t be on the plane and that’s final.’ said Paul defiantly. ‘I want you to organize the extra two days for me. Make up an excuse if you have to you.’

‘I’ll do my best,’ replied Don with reluctance.

‘Oh, and there’s one other matter Don.’

‘Yes Paul?’

‘You can send ten thousand US Dollars to Rebecca’s flat mate - Miss Monica Laatum. Monica had her head pistol whipped last night by one of your cronies.’

‘Pistol whipped! Are you sure? Believe me - I had no idea.’

‘Rebecca and I went out to a restaurant. They presumably waited for us to leave the apartment together. Monica unfortunately surprised the intruder by returning. Result - one stash on the back of the head.’

‘How is she? Is she all right?’

‘Other than mild concussion and a thumping headache, Monica seems fine this morning. However, compensation is in order, don’t you agree?’

‘Yes of course. I’ll attend to it right away,’ replied Don in an acutely depressed tone.

‘And you will let me know of the departure time of the Austrian flight on Wednesday.’

‘Yes Paul...I really am sorry about Monica and Rebecca.’

Even as Don replaced the phone, his heart pounded like a jack hammer. He felt dread spiraling up from the pit of his stomach. ‘That bloody odious Van der Hyde lied,’ he muttered with lips quivering. ‘He assured me they haven’t contacted each other.’

Paul’s comments about being at the apartment and the restaurant with Rebecca had hit home with an ominous crash.

‘There’s a double cross going on. But for the love of me, I can’t work out why - or how!’
He felt his fingers trembling and his palms perspiring. Like a stupefied cornered rabbit with no means of escape, he sensed his end near. Don unlocked his desk drawer and reached for his Swiss SigSauer hand gun - checked the cartridges and safety catch, and grimly placed it on his desk.

Don Ormsby poured himself a long brandy. He stared blankly into nothingness. His usual controlled logical mind now incoherent shattered with morbid doubts.

‘Thank you for compensating Monica. I couldn’t help overhearing,’ said Rebecca, as Paul strode confidently into the lounge. ‘She will be so thrilled with the money.’

‘It’s the least I could do. I hope she accepts the offering in the right spirit. I wouldn’t want her to think that I’m attempting to buy her silence.’

‘No way! Besides, it’s best she doesn’t realize the payment is connected to you. She thinks the intruder was a burglar.’

‘I guess you are right,’ he responded nodding. ‘Anyway, the surveillance will be lifted - so we can all relax now.’

Paul sighed and sat along side of Rebecca. His face showed despondency. ‘You may have gathered, I have to leave Amsterdam on Wednesday for Austria. Darling, now that I’ve found you - I don’t want to lose you.’

Rebecca kissed him lightly on the lips. ‘Be patient. We’ll work it out. You can phone me regularly. Besides, we still have two days,’ she added, fluttering her eyelashes. ‘So let’s make full use of them.’

‘I guess you are right. When my loneliness gets too unbearable, I’ll fly back and see you.’ The sparkle in Paul’s eyes returned. ‘Let’s go out to lunch? I know a simply wonderful restaurant that specializes in French cuisine and fine champagnes.’

‘On one condition, Paul.’

‘Oh, and what is that?’

‘Well....first you can give me a big cuddly hug, and then a super smoochy kiss - one I can tell my grandchildren about.’

‘Yes teacher!’ Paul obeyed without hesitation.


‘So, what do you think?’ prompted Paul, anxious for Rebecca’s praise, as they took their places at a table near the window of the elegant ‘Excelsior’ French restaurant in Nieuwe Doelenstraat.

‘As you said darling, it’s simply wonderful - just perfect. Thank you.’

Rebecca surveyed the Excelsior’s grand style decor, complimented by the views of the Amstel River. ‘You obviously know your restaurants, don’t you Paul? Quite a connoisseur in fact.’

‘I happen to know a few,’ he replied modestly and sensing a deeper significance to her statement. ‘But I can assure you, I’ve never had the privilege of such enchanting company before.’

‘You also know how to flatter a woman,’ added Rebecca, with a slight hint of sarcasm.

Disappointment flooded Paul’s face. His despondent eyes gazed into Rebecca’s. ‘You know I was offering a compliment rather than flattery - why do you keep me off balance? I want so much to please you. In return you throw loaded insinuations under the guise of compliments at me.’

Rebecca retreated and was inwardly angry at herself. ‘Paul, I am sorry - really I am. It’s my possessiveness showing its ugly head.’

‘Your possessiveness? I don’t understand.’

‘It’s irrational of me, I know. But I couldn’t help wondering how many other women have sat here in my place before me. I’m sorry.’

‘Personally I think a little possessiveness in a relationship is healthy. It shows that you care,’ remarked Paul. ‘Mind you, if you had seen the overweight and elderly businessmen I’ve entertained here you wouldn’t be worried.’

‘You are kidding me Paul?’ asked Rebecca with a surge of happiness.

‘It’s the truth. I wouldn’t risk insulting you, by inviting you to a restaurant I had frequented with other women. I’m not that insensitive. You are special to me - I love you!’

‘I love you too Paul.’ Tears began to form in Rebecca’s eyes.

Paul tenderly clasped hands across the table. ‘Please don’t cry. Darling I adore you.’

‘I’m so happy,’ she sobbed openly, her moist eyes sparkling like diamonds, ‘The park this morning - the cute little ducks - this lovely restaurant. And you Paul - it all seems so beautiful and wonderful. I feel so happy - I want to explode.’

Paul grinned. ‘Before you go exploding and making a mess all over the restaurant, do you think it might be better we eat first?’ Paul signaled the waiter. ‘I’ll order a bottle of good old Bolly while we decide on the menu.’

Rebecca giggled like an enraptured teenager. ‘You really love your champagne, don’t you?’

‘Ah, but I thought every one loves champagne!’ exclaimed Paul in jest and acting surprised. ‘Like angels dancing on your tongue’, that’s how the Dominican monks described the taste when they invented bubbly.’ Paul shrugged. ‘They tell me, even their master turned water into wine and not wine into water - so who am I to argue? Champagne begins with a bang - enters the mouth bubbling - and ends with a dignified burp. I drink champagne when I have an occasion to celebrate - and desperately need it when I haven’t!’

‘And are you celebrating now, or are you in desperate need?’ asked Rebecca playfully.

‘Oh quite definitively celebrating Mademoiselle. Being with you - life itself is a celebration,’ said Paul, unsuccessfully faking a comical French accent. And as her feet delicately stroked his legs under the table, he added softly, ‘Well perhaps I do have a desperate need as well!’


For the ensuing two and a half hours, the intimate French restaurant became the centre of reality for Rebecca and Paul. Romantic French vocals accompanied by the soft notes of a piano, played discreetly in the background. Time appeared to be transiently suspended - motionless - charitably granting to the two lovers, a precious extension of experience. As if the heavens knew only too well that the limited duration they would have together, was now rapidly expiring.

The waitress came with the coffee and ports. Rebecca sighed contentedly.

‘The crepes with the juicy fat strawberries and cream were scrumptious,’ said Rebecca, and gazed at him with champagne eyes that were filled to the brim with longing. ‘I will never forget today Paul. It has been so wonderfully special.’

‘I’m grateful to you for being with me. I value your company dearly,’ replied Paul humbly.

Rebecca sipped her port, her mind now deep in contemplation.

How will I tell Paul of my impending move to Australia? And how can I possibly explain Wakonda - without sounding like I intend ending this blossoming relationship. The likelihood of Paul ever sacrificing his way of life to join me would be zero - and yet Wakonda’s cryptic words in the vision - instructing me to help lead Paul to the light and to Australia? I wish I knew the answers.

Paul too, had notions he needed to express verbally. He possessed different aspirations and optimistic expectations for their future. Rebecca would make the ideal wife for a future Syndicate leader - and would be well suited for the glamorous jet setting life such a life would entail. Her intelligence and maturity combined with her charm, endowed her with an almost regal bearing. He found Rebecca’s independent personality alluring and refreshing. He’d also concluded that with a little encouragement and instruction, she may become a tad more practical on such issues as business - and the politics of power.

Paul first broke the gravid silence, capturing her a little off guard with his question. ‘Do you intend to stay with the peace movement, Rebecca?’

‘Why no - as a matter of fact my involvement with them is over for good. Why do you ask?’

He peered around the restaurant before answering and spoke with cautious undertones. ‘Well naturally I’m concerned for your safety. Membership is absolutely futile as well as dangerous. Up until now, the peace movement has been allowed to exist because it served a useful purpose. But Saturday’s crackdown was only the beginning. The Peace Keepers intend to destroy the movement worldwide.’

Rebecca’s relaxed mind sobered to attention. ‘When you said, served a useful purpose, what purpose did the peace movement serve?’

‘I thought that answer would be obvious. To segregate an opposition into an open and organized group, where it can be infiltrated and manipulated, is far better than individual cells of activists going underground. Potential trouble makers can be quickly screened and monitored.’

And disposed of at will no doubt, added Rebecca in her mind. How much dare I ask, she rationalized. And how much does this man really know. The temptation is too great to resist!

‘It became obvious to me,’ she ventured at last, ‘that the peace movement was hypocritically playing into the hands of the media by becoming increasingly militant - that’s why I’d decided that Saturday’s protest was to be my last. However, like you, I knew intuitively that for some bizarre reason I had to be there.’

‘If fate meant us to cross paths, it sure picked a crazy way of bringing us together,’ said Paul, attempting to be humorous. But the words rolling of his tongue didn’t seem at all funny. Instead they keyed into this terrible tenseness that was beginning to gnaw away at his insides - draining his psychic energy like a low level stifled and insane panic. The entire Amsterdam visit to date had felt absurdly ‘orchestrated’.

He relapsed into a quivering reflection for a few moments.

‘Who controls the Peace Keepers?’ Rebecca’s question was as blunt as it was sudden.

‘I’m not in a position to give you a direct answer,’ said Paul at last, choosing his words cautiously. ‘So many of the pieces in this deceptive global chess game aren’t what they appear to be.’
He leaned forward and spoke cryptically. ‘You see Rebecca, the battle is really lost when the white queen is defeated - a black bishop with a knight can then move to checkmate the vulnerable white king. The pawns exist to be manipulated and are expendable - and often sacrificed.’
‘Now you’re sounding like Nostradamus,’ she said undaunted. ‘But I’ll take up the gauntlet and attempt to decipher your words. The embattled white queen is I presume, virtue and honesty being defeated by corruption and selfishness - the vulnerable white king is the democratic government - and the pawns obviously represent the population. But that still begs the question - who is the black bishop?’

Paul offered a tentative smile and shrugged. ‘Interpret the game as you will.’ He then suddenly voiced four words that inflamed her curiosity into a raging bushfire’

‘Democracy does not exist!’

‘What did you say Paul?’

‘Democracy does not exist! You said the white king represented a democratic government. Democracy as a system of government simply does not exist! Democracy has never existed and never will!’

Rebecca’s felt her adrenalin fluctuate excitedly. Paul’s off the cuff remarks were more than she’d bargained for. ‘I don’t suppose you would elaborate on that statement?’ she asked squarely.

Paul smiled with a hint of smugness. ‘Ah, I sense a measure of agreement. Democracy - ‘for the people by the people’- is a load of codswallop!’

Rebecca did intuitively agree with Paul. But for what reasons? She decided that she would play the devil’s advocate to entice Paul into further debate. After all, she thought, who knows what might be revealed? Her eyes gleamed in readiness to meet the challenge. ‘Well I agree our individual freedoms are constantly being eroded! But even with all its failings, surely Democracy is still the only workable option left for the human race?’

Paul was adamant. ‘Rebecca, democracy isn’t an option. It simply doesn’t exist!’

She smiled. ‘Perhaps I’m not endowed with your intellectual understanding and experience of such matters. Please explain yourself.’

‘You never give up, do you?’

‘Not likely. And you’re not getting out of it that easily either. I’m still waiting.’
Rebecca’s temerity had finally worn down Paul’s reluctance.

‘Then I’ll attempt an explanation, he said leaning back in his chair and gulping down the last of the port. ‘Socialist communism as Karl Marx envisaged may have been feasible on paper. However in reality, the Communist regimes that seized power in the Eastern Block Countries, and in Asia and Cuba, were nothing but elitist power hungry dictatorships. They used the cloak of Communism as a propaganda tool for oppression.’

Rebecca nodded in agreement.

‘Karl Marx believed that communism would liberate mankind from the exploitation and control of the religious, business and aristocratic ruling elites of the time. The actual result was suppression and repression. One ruling elite merely made way for another elite. Rather than revolution, it was substitution.’

‘Absolutely,’ agreed Rebecca with enthusiasm. ‘And as communism collapsed in Eastern Europe, it was even revealed that all of their economies were propped up by Western Banks - with loans totaling many billions of dollars! In effect the West helped finance both sides of the Cold War.’

Paul grinned, and his grin seemed to communicate, Well naturally - what did you expect? - if you only knew the full truth! He continued. ‘Then you may also accept that communism, because it’s untried as a system, is merely a theory or a philosophy. An illusory dream of a dead man. Communism is just a word. It never existed and can never exist in reality. Do you take my point?’ Paul stared at Rebecca penetratingly as he posed the question.

Rebecca thought studiously before replying. ‘I do understand, Paul. The premise fails in basic logic. An elitist dictatorship adopts the label communism and then subsequently fails - we then illogically presume communism has failed rather than the dictatorship. The label falsely describes the reality. But I still don’t understand what this has to do with democracy.’

‘Ah, but the principle is as valid with democracy as it is with communism. It has to be. Democracy is a theory or dream of perfectionism dating back to the early Greeks. It too is just a word or label. Democracy has never existed or can ever exist. It also is used as a tool by elite ruling dictatorships!’

Rebecca expressed annoyance. ‘That’s a quantum leap into cynicism,’ she responded disdainfully.

Paul merely shrugged. ‘You may well think it is cynicism Rebecca, but it is the reality. To speculate on any proposed utopian system for society is mere fanciful idealism. One must always take into account the inherent emotions and instincts of man’s quest for power - his survival instinct - the need to dominate - to lead or to be led. The truth is, all systems based on equality fail.’

‘Paul, at the risk of sounding naive - you know as well as I do that people living under democratic systems have the right to vote. We choose our leaders who we feel can best lead the country. And it’s the citizens who remove the politicians with their vote if they under-perform.’ And then she added, ‘And don’t forget there is also the right to demonstrate or strike!’

‘I’m sorry to tell you Rebecca. You are mistaken,’ said Paul attempting to attract the waiter for another port. ‘Would you like another port by any chance?’ he asked.

Rebecca shook her head. ‘Paul, please don’t try to change the subject. Why am I mistaken? I need to know.’

Paul ordered his port.

‘Firstly, you assume that the pollys are the real leaders. Secondly you assume the charade of the vote implies a significant meaning.’ Paul spoke with conviction and more than a trace of ebullience. ‘Both assumptions are totally wrong.’

‘But why are they wrong?’

‘In practice your so called ‘strong democracies’ consist of two main parties. Only two choices really exist. Control the two parties and the whole population is controlled. Governments that have an assortment of bickering parties and factions are disposed of. They are easily toppled - often to be replaced by straight dictatorships to regain stability.’ Paul paused but the glint in his eyes remained.

‘The two main parties still have to be influenced or controlled. That must take some doing,’ responded Rebecca solemnly.

‘Hell no,’ said Paul emphatically, and it was his emphaticness that shocked Rebecca. ‘No group of any persuasion can get to run a country without prior ‘deals’ being struck or certain understandings being reached. It’s inherent in the system.’

‘Agreed,’ nodded Rebecca as Paul continued.

‘Neither do they retain power unless they continue to toe the line internationally. Political parties and their leaderships answer to an assortment of pressure groups - big business - their central banks - their security services and armed services - the media - unions ....’

‘And so, towering over the governments are the global black bishops - the manipulators - the real controllers?’ interrupted Rebecca framing the statement as a question.

Paul didn’t answer. He just smirked knowingly.

‘So what you are implying,’ she persisted, ‘is that leaders are removed or assassinated or disgraced with scandal, if they step out of line - or their country is threatened with war or revolution.’

‘Yes, you are beginning to get the picture. Economic and media manipulation are facts of life. Self styled leaders and governments of different persuasions, come and go as needed - but the results are always the same.’

Paul shrugged his shoulders and quickly sipped his port. ‘It’s not possible for a country to be an economic island. The mass of global influences alone, renders the internal vote of a citizen useless!’ He straightened his back and sat erect. ‘Economic realism in this world boils down to this one simple truth - One global market place run by syndicated trans national corporations!’

‘So if the right to vote has little meaning, democracy, like communism, is still only a philosophy yet to be tested,’ prompted Rebecca. Contrary to the propaganda fed to us, countries are not run by the people or even for the people!’

‘Of course not! The flocks of sheep are allowed their Judas goats and sheep dogs to make inconsequential decisions on their behalf. The voting charade helps them to sleep at night. Populations really are just lambs, waiting to be shorn or in some cases slaughtered! Populations are a commodity - sometimes an asset - sometimes a liability.’

He paused and eyed Rebecca capriciously. ‘In Australia, they even force people to vote. The vote is compulsory. Can you imagine? The authorities actually jail their own citizens if they don’t pay the mandatory fine for failing to vote.’ Paul laughed gleefully before continuing. ‘No Rebecca, it’s all just a huge fallacy. Try to see economic rationalism from a global perspective - beyond borders and nationalism - rather than from the blinded eyes of the ignorant. Then you will begin to understand!’

Rebecca stared back at Paul aghast.
God, this guy can’t be real! she thought. At one level she understood the validity of his statements. But hearing him so blatantly confirming her own suspicions left her feeling frustrated and angry at a system that seemed without hope.

To Paul, he was only stating the obvious. After all, when was the last time a government dared ask the people directly if they wanted to wage a war - or for permission to borrow billions of dollars. Manipulation of governments was part of his experience. Once she understood such matters she was bound to see a more wholistic ‘global perspective’.

‘It is not a conspiracy Rebecca,’ he continued flatly, ‘The hierarchal systems of power in this world are now global and syndicated. Throughout history the ultimate dream for conquerors has been to rule the world.’ He shook his head and held his arms out in a half circle. ‘Circumstances haven’t changed! Except today with the advances in science and technology, global power is now not only possible, but utterly necessary for the world’s survival.’

Rebecca felt like screaming. She was inwardly seething with frustration and anger. She leered at Paul. ‘You know all this and it doesn’t bother you?’

‘Why on earth should reality bother me? It’s simply the way things are!’ Paul remained coldly calm as he spoke. ‘You see an image - an illusion of the way you think reality should be, and then become angry or frustrated when your false image you helped to create is threatened with the truth.’

‘God Paul, sometimes you scare me.’

‘Darling, I was brought up to accept the reality of man - with all inherent weaknesses included. The power of business at a high level. I live in the real world and you have lived in a make believe world of idealistic illusions.

Rebecca suddenly went stony quiet. She stared at the table blankly.

Paul now felt an uneasy acidity in his stomach. Even though he’d resolved at the outset of the conversation to ‘educate’ Rebecca, he suspected that he’d probably said too much - too soon.
‘I’ve managed to upset you again, haven’t I?’ he whispered. He leaned across the table and gently placed his hand upon Rebecca’s. ‘Rebecca, please come back to me. You are too far away.’

She peered up, and her eyes now showed both sadness and compassion. ‘I’m not upset with you... It’s just that... Well, I feel so sorry for you.’

‘Why darling? Why would you feel sorry for me?’

‘Because I love you. You must feel so lonely and empty inside - it hurts me to see you like that.’

Mystification flooded Paul’s face. ‘Now it is I, who is in a quandary. You’ve shown to me what love is. I thought that now I have everything a man could possibly wish for.’

Rebecca studied his pleading and earnest face. Behind the confident charade, Paul needed to justify his ethical stance on the business world he’d been conditioned into. He was being starkly honest with her. He is a lost lamb amongst hungry wolves, she thought. Wakonda... was... right...!

And then the inexplicable happened!

Precisely at the same instant her thoughts flashed the name of Wakonda, wave upon wave of ecstatic love energy began to descend through her body. She shuddered with exquisite joy as the blissful tingles continued to ripple down her spine.

And her eyes moistened with happy tears.

‘Rebecca, are you all right?’

Paul’s concerned voice sounded far off. Rebecca was unable to answer.

The feeling - it’s like experiencing multiple orgasms, she gasped to herself - I can feel Wakonda’s presence so profoundly! Her rhythmic breathing became increasingly deeper. A compelling urge to speak began to surface. Not mere random words and phrases from her intellect - but rather, empowering words which her spirit had so desperately sought to give to Paul - arising from an authoritarian source deep within her heart.

Rebecca’s eyes refocused.

Paul stared in astonishment. ‘Rebecca, what is the matter? You look strange...’

Her strengthened voice was determined but loving.
‘Paul, it is vital that you listen attentively to the esoteric meaning behind the words I’m about to speak. Please accept them without resistance into your heart, where they will germinate and flourish.’

‘I will certainly try to,’ said Paul, and his bewildered concern was now replaced with anticipation.

‘Know that your attitudes have been formed by a pre-ordained conditioning. For the most sinister of reasons, you have been purposely shown only one side of the portrait and reality of life.’

Paul looked puzzled but remained silent.

Rebecca continued. ‘Your statements regarding the material nature of humankind may well be correct. An all consuming lust for power is the natural outcome of a purely physical and material world. But man is also rooted in the spiritual realms. Thankfully, the physical and spiritual worlds are harmonically balanced by Divine Love.’

Her eyes now became glazed with tears. ‘You told me today that you loved me. Do you really wish to exploit me, enslave or manipulate me for your own selfish ends in some little game plan of egotism and power?’

‘Hey, just one moment!’ interjected Paul aghast and wounded, ‘That’s hardly a fair statement. Of course I don’t want to enslave or exploit you. I happen to love you Rebecca - not the whole damn world!’

‘You will soon come to realize - as you injure the world you are equally injuring both yourself and myself equally. Consciousness - love - truth: All is one. There is no separation in consciousness.’

Paul was stunned. Her face glowed with an etheric radiance as she spoke. Now it was his turn to be confounded.

She continued. ‘You cannot love only me. Directed love is restricted or partial love. True Love is unconditional. It is our very essence. It would be like the sun proclaiming, ‘I only shine on a selected few’ - or a tree saying - ‘only certain people can partake of my fruit or shade.’
And then she said. ‘Paul, I became the safe mirror of your own heart! Your spirit felt the security of connectiveness with me. This closeness enabled you to experience your inner love by removing some of the hardened barriers which encase your heart chakra.’

She paused and the radiance flowing from her now merged with Paul’s astral body. He also could feel the tingling sensation - and the golden compassionate warmth. He clutched at her hands tightly.

‘Please go on,’ he said softly.

‘Darling, realize that this phenomenal world is but a cinema screen upon which you project your perceived limitations. Your world has been created according to all your conditioning.
The movie that you have projected until now has been totally one-sided! You can equally project onto your screen a world of love, beauty and service. The screen is neutral, but your projections dictate the play.’
Rebecca again paused to allow time for Paul to take in the seeds being planted.

Paul thought hard for a few seconds and then responded conceptionally. ‘If we can choose to project either love or materialism onto the screen, then it follows that neither projections are real.’

‘Exactly!’ enthused Rebecca delighted at Paul’s immediate grasp of understanding. ‘We can take a simple example. We both presume to know what a tree is?’

Paul nodded his agreement.

‘Ah, but do we really know what a tree is? Can either of us ever see the same tree as the other sees it? Can either of us ever see the tree with our limited senses, as it truly is?
Three people are walking through a park and one remarks ‘Look! isn't that a beautiful tree?’ Each observer will respond in judgment according to his or her past conditioning. One's past experience may be the wonderful memories of falling in love with her beloved under a tree. Another's may be of the enjoyment of climbing trees as a youth. The third may have fell after being coerced into climbing a tree as a boy by his tyrannical father. All three are judging the tree according to their past conditioning. The tree is there - it exists in truth - but the tree for each will be quite different.’

Paul understood the example but looked hesitant. ‘I do see your point. However, if we can’t see the world as it is, then what is real? Where is reality?’

Rebecca replied in the same enthusiastic tone. ‘Buddha used to say that ‘only that what is unchangeable is real’. All else by nature is an illusion. Yet only by understanding and discarding the unreal, we can experience the real. Find out within yourself Paul, beyond your mind - your personality - your body and your emotions who is the director, the projectionist, the actor and the script writer of your own movie creation. When you find your real self, you will find total and unconditional love there waiting for you.’ Rebecca clutched Paul’s hands protectively and gazed wondrously into his eyes. ‘Though, I’m sad to be the one who has to tell you, love will come painfully to you Paul.’

Paul shrugged. ‘Why will it be any more painful for me?’

‘Love is surrender - and you have so much to surrender. A strong ego and a competitive nature - plus all the attachments that go with wealth. Your attachments are the barrier to true freedom. We are all possessed equally by what we possess! Letting go of attachments will be difficult for you.’

‘That is assuming I ever want to let go,’ countered Paul a little defensively. He contemplated momentarily and then added, ‘You mentioned ego - do you think I am egotistical?’

‘I use the word ego in the wider sense. The gaining and dropping of the ego is an intrinsic cycle of the spiritual path of each of us.’

‘I’m not sure exactly what you mean?’ said Paul intoning his words as a question.

‘Symbolically speaking, the soul descends with innocence into matter - tastes the proverbial tree of knowledge - gains desires and begins to build the ego. When eventually the ego is ripe, the winds of change begin to blow and life itself starts to shatter the ego. It is in the none acceptance of the inevitable changes that follow, lies the cause of suffering.’

‘So the ego and desires are synonymous?’ asked Paul inquisitively.

‘Yes. Desires and attachments build and create the ego. They are interchangeable. Nature has afforded mankind ‘desires’ for its earthly survival. The desire to procreate, to hunt, to lead, to dominate - even the desire to accumulate thoughts, knowledge, beliefs, and material possession - all arise from the survival instinct. Yet these are worldly. They become the spiritual barrier to enlightenment. All desires and attachments will eventually need to be dropped - like giving up the teddy bear or high chair when you are no longer a baby. Thus the beautiful symbology of the Christian crucifixion. The final dropping of the ego. The ‘I’ or personality, together with all its desires and attachments - offered on the cross of surrender - to merge totally into Universal Divine Love. The soul’s long and painful spiritual journey is finally over - unification with the absolute.’

Rebecca’s face radiated with an aesthetic beauty. She knew that the profound words of hope, were with Wakonda’s help, flowing miraculously through her and not from her. Words that were meant not just for Paul, but for her own heart also.

Paul felt entranced. The intense energy emitting from Rebecca’s statements, crashed through his barriers and thudded into his heart chakra. He felt utterly vulnerable - fearful as to what the consequences might be, should he allow his will to completely surrender. The words were like ancient golden keys that would unlock impenetrable doors deep inside his being. And on the other side of the doors - a love energy of brilliant light - akin to the illuminating power of a thousand suns - waiting desperately to explode forth.

But to allow such an opening would be the end of his self identity and his individuality. No, he knew he was not yet ready. His road to Damascus - or enlightenment would have to wait!
After some pregnant moments he spoke.
‘I have to admit I am captivated by the ramifications of this conversation. We began by discussing society as a whole and then talked about the individual’s struggle within society.’
He leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table and rested his chin in his palms. ‘I suppose what I want to know now is - is there a correlation between the two? All of nature’s laws are universal. A law existing at one level in the cosmic spiral, also operates in all levels - we need only to observe the correlation.’

His eyes narrowed as if in deep thought. ‘So whether it be over one life time or many, a spiritual cycle for an individual, must have a correspondence in a society - or for that matter - the human race as a whole. If a correspondence does not exist - perhaps it proves the fallacy in the original principles that you are alluding to!’

Rebecca was impressed with Paul’s question. She understood exactly what he meant. In her mind she called out to Wakonda for help in framing the answer. She waited meditatively until her intuition told her that it was time to speak.

‘Paul, the question you have posed is most profound. There exists in Creation, a powerful spiritual law, known as Unification. Unification is the inner longing and subtle guidance that motivates souls of all species to return to the source - the yearning to go home.’

‘I relate to that,’ said Paul smiling. ‘I’ve always felt an urge to return home. The problem is I don’t know where home is!’

Wakonda’s words were now flowing unhindered through Rebecca. She hardly heard Paul’s comment.

‘The young soul born in innocence, begins to accumulate thoughts and desires. These experiences are at first scattered. The ego personality is forming. The child’s psyche is of course, conditioned by the environment, by the culture and religion in which the child is born into, by the transitory positioning of the planets at the time of birth, by genetically disposition and by the original sin of past life experiences.
Tens of thousands of scattered ideas, experiences and concepts are slowly drawn together by another spiritual law - the law of attraction - sometimes referred to as ‘like attracts like.’ A knowing glint came to her eyes. ‘You see Paul, all of existence vibrates at its own certain frequency. Similar frequencies attract each other.’

‘You mean like the way we attract each other?’

‘Yes exactly,’ she replied. ‘Thoughts attract thoughts of a similar nature as do people attract their own soul vibrational group.’

‘Sounds promising!’ quipped Paul, and his mind flashed thoughts of sexual longing at Rebecca.

Rebecca blushed slightly, then cleared her throat. ‘As I was saying, the child reaches adulthood and is now more opinionated and conservative. Life becomes ordered and structured. The ego begins to mature. However, with the ripening of the ego, a new conflict begins to arise. A conflict borne out of the spirit’s longing to return to the source and the ego’s desire to cling to the earth and the ‘known.’

Paul nodded wisely, to show Rebecca his mind was now back onto the esoteric rather than the sexo-tantric.

‘Every soul,’ she continued, ‘will eventually experience this final conflict or crucifixion. It is known as the dark lonely night of the soul. We all traverse this same path. We feel the inner spirit slowly discarding our cocoon of ignorance - the body and all its trappings.
We are really exchanging a mere grain of sand for all the gold reserves of the world - but nature would have it - that first we must die to the phenomenal world before we can be reborn and accept our celestial birthright.’

‘Wow, sounds exciting!’ Paul interjected almost defensively. ‘This is heavy stuff. So where is the correlation between the lone soul and the human race as a whole?’

‘I am about to come to that.’ Rebecca paused for a few seconds before continuing. So far so good, she thought. Please don’t desert me now Wakonda.

‘Mankind too was at first scattered over the earth. Through necessity, primal man first unified by creating families, then clans or tribes. These groupings were later followed by kingdoms, provinces, nations and empires. Union took thousands of years of civilization but because of the Unification law - it had to come to pass.

And now, as you have confirmed, there will soon be one world order. The ‘ego’ of the human race has reached maturity...’

Then Rebecca uttered the prophetic words. Words that would sent shock waves of cold fear reverberating through her nervous system.

‘The whole of mankind is about to suffer the crucifixion - the long dark night of the over-soul! The end times that will soon be upon us will be more catastrophic than the most terrifying prophesies ever uttered!’

Rebecca had to pause. The awesome meaning of what she’d just said had shocked her into a trembling numbness. The words had flowed from her lips with a force and authority that couldn’t be denied.

And she felt herself perspiring - yet she also felt strangely calm. Dead calm like the eerie purgatory calmness in the eye of a hurricane. Wakonda had now confirmed in her waking state what he’d said in the visions! Rebecca now had the personal proof she required.

Paul was first to break the resolute silence.

He also felt the power emitted with the words. He spoke solemnly. ‘Rebecca, are you telling me, you really believe that the whole of humanity is destined to go through some kind of ‘crucifixion?’

Rebecca looked dolefully into Paul’s eyes. Now it was hard for her to speak. She felt weak and drained. She shook her head slowly, ‘No Paul, not believe. I know it will.’ And then added with her last available energy. ‘Man, has not only been endowed with the conscious and subconscious mind, but also has the collective or super conscious mind. This collective conscious or ‘ego’ of the human race is now rapidly reaching its own day of reckoning. The end times, as you know, have been prophesied for centuries - and I’m afraid they are about to begin!’

Neither Paul or Rebecca could continue the conversation. Rebecca had never experienced being used as a channel before. She felt spiritually elated and humble - yet utterly exhausted.

Paul needed time to think. Rebecca is one hell of a challenge, he mused to himself. She is so damn wonderful - even if she is occasionally seems to be on cloud cuckoo land!’

He spoke forlornly. ‘Rebecca, all I know right now is that I love you intensely. I certainly feel confused and a little vulnerable with you - but I do feel so much love - directed - partial - or otherwise!

Rebecca managed a seductive and mesmerizing grin.

Paul gazed at Rebecca in confident anticipation. ‘And I’m going to take the risk in inviting you to return to my hotel suite to open another bottle of champagne. I certainly know I need it.’

‘Need what exactly?’

‘The champagne of course!’

‘Oh. Is that all?’ she replied feigning disappointment.

Paul blushed. ‘Well would you like to come, Rebecca?’

‘Yes Paul, I would love to come! but I must warn you, there is a full moon tonight.’

Rebecca felt mellow and blissfully in love. She knew what the consequences of her teasing affirmative answer would be. She also sensed that the remaining time she had to share with Paul was soon to expire.

And as Paul signed the credit card slip, an unseen grin be-twitched his face - and he murmured unheard spoken thoughts. ‘I wonder if in any of her previous incarnations, Rebecca had been a witch - or a seductive enchantress?’
Copyright 2004 – 2006 © Charles Goodwin. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, copied or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, storage in a retrieval system or otherwise, without the prior express written permission of Charles Goodwin.

All characters - other than obvious historical figures - in this book 666 The Cauldron are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Prospective publishers with expressions of interest are invited to contact Charles Goodwin at

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