Three thousand feet above I perch eagle-eyed, watching the spectacle unfold in eternal time. There are no barriers to my perception for I see through walls and my vision is both micro and macro-scopic.
It's a gift, that's all. I'm only just learning how to use it!
I focus on a green dot amidst a sea of concrete. I zoom in and open it up to my attention.
It's a jungle in there - Kew gardens, London, 23:23 on the night of 7 October, 2023. Shafts of light penetrate a gathering of darkness.
I move closer still, a simple act of will on my part.
From the shadows shapes emerge. They are dressed in business attire but trail thick reptilian tails which twitch every now and then. Nervousness or anticipation, this I cannot as yet tell.
A bespectacled human form is standing by a cluttered study desk, drawers pulled out and contents piled any old how. Tall and bent over with the weight of some unseen burden, he lets out a shudder at the sight of the lizard-like figures.
I listen in, my ears on high alert.
"In spite of all the assistance you have received over the years to complete the project, you have not kept up with your side of things. This is the end for you, for all of us!"
The voice continues, tone firm and neutral - factual.
"We, for our part, have finished playing our role on Earth - one we have enjoyed for well over ten thousand years. Humanity has achieved what the Atlanteans and Lemurians were unable to. Our job is done!"
"There's nothing to say fella, you were never going to win! Unlike us, you have been an unconscious tool of polarisation, blinded and led by your lust for power. You were instrumental in pushing this forward at critical moments, but it wasn't what you thought. You've been played all along boyo, like a high-level patsy. The real revolution-transformation is the unravelling of the hypnotic Spell that allowed you and your cronies to transform your image and fool the world. That spell is now broken and you sir, are left exposed as a bollock-naked emperor with no clothes!"
"..but...", the bespectacled man tries again, "...but it's all in place - the media are on board, the politicians are in the bag and the populations have been beaten into submission. It's just a question of time before we pull this whole thing off once and for all!"
"Yo, Gatesey, you still don't get it huh?"
Confusion crosses the tall man's features and his brow narrows.
"It's sacred geometry man, pure maths - you just don't stand a chance and never have done! Who do you think you were up against?"
The shadowy figure continues, tail gesticulating to provide emphasis.
"Everything is energy. It's pure vibrational shit that determines reality, regardless of your take on it. Fear vibrates at a dense, low level and enough of it can bring down the median level of the Human Collective. That's been the strategy all along hasn't it? Problem-Reaction-Solution, or Divide-and-Rule...brings about the same end result of Division and Fear - the 'FUD', and thereby Docility and Controlability."
The man called Gatsey looks up, "Yes, that's been central to the plan."
"Your types deal mainly in the material and the physical, with little understanding of the energy rituals you partake in", continues the shadowy character. "Yes you have been flattered but don't kid yourself that service-to-self cunning is on a par with the intelligence that runs this universe. Such limited vision as yours misses the workings of invisible phenomena - the inner readiness for change regardless of surface-level compliance. Most folk just don't have experience of alternatives - it's not been demonstrated to them. This doesn't mean they are happy with the status quo! They're simply locked in by Fear. Yet Fear disappears when confronted and understood. Many such folk have long since arrived at the 'fuckit point' of nothing left to lose."
"You have also - to your peril, ignored the phenomenon described in Price's Law which states very simply that 50% of the work is done by the square root of the total number of people who participate in the work. Where there are 10 people, 3 will do half the work. With 100, only 10 will do half. With larger numbers, say 10,000 - half the work will be done by just 100 people, and one thousand will do half the work of a million!"
"Thing is my lad, this doesn't just apply locally. It applies to every aspect of existence, from the distribution of wealth to the number of pop or classical music album sales, to the small number of brands who command 50% of any market."
"...er so what has all this got to do with me being a failure" asks William Jr.
"You're a failure in your eyes only. We know your childhood wasn't happy, sure, but then look at the effect your tactics have had on human suffering. We know you call that success because you thought it was what we wanted of you. Fact of the matter is that you have been successful in helping to push the collective Human Experience to the very brink. What you failed to realise was that breakdown is necessary for breakthrough and that enslavement leads inexorably to breakdown. You were an excellent, if unwitting, catalyst for this! Anyhow, back to the subject and the specific reason you have never stood a chance".
I continue to observe from where I am 3000 feet above, a smile now playing on my formless features.
"Thing is", continues the betailed-one, "the square root of 10 billion is just 100,000. Therefore only 100,000 beings in human form were required to consistently maintain their energy levels above that of Fear in order for the critical mass of 51% to be achieved. How they may have done this has been their own individual path of discovery and we have been watching in fascination. The tide has turned irrevocably. The critical mass has been reached and our task therefore, is done!"
The tall man stood up, hands shaking. He had a look of utter bewilderment on his face.
All around him, from above as well as below, a breeze starts to blow. Gently at first, it picks up in intensity until it merges seamlessly with the tall figure, carrying him away. Nothing is left behind but the core unashamed nakedness of what is real and inseparable from All that is.
The wind dies down leaving the desk clear of clutter. There remains only a pair of black-rimmed spectacles and a brand-new Windows 98 installation CD. The shadowy figures are no more.
The 8th of October 2023 dawns bright and full of the promise of unconditional and unrestricted LIFE in all its infinite, natural and unrestrained potentiality.
For my part, I decide that this is a planet I could happily incarnate on for a few lifetimes. I drop eagle-eyes and any pre-conceived notions. I head down into the belly of she who is to become my beloved mama.
Other Short Stories by Barge:
Redemption: Or The Space In Between
A-Bout (of) Perspective
The Satisfaction Of A Pint
The Thirty-Year Insult
Choosing The End: A Sci-Fi Fantasy Of Earthly Proportions
The Raging Oldie - A Fictionalised Account From A 'Donk Air Home'
"Wishes" - an exercise in creative writing from the recesses of a 27-year old mind in the year 1999!