21
Seventy Five
Tahra returned to the farmhouse in time for Christmas. On arrival, she bounded over to Paul and embraced him in a bear hug, and he lifted her up and spun her around. Their reunion rejuvenated Project OOBE, the prodigal missing link had re-entered the fold. To celebrate her return, he gathered all twelve recruits in the sitting room, where they welcomed her back. For a while, everyone wanted a slice of her but when the fuss subsided, she spoke to Paul with openness and honesty.
“These two weeks have made me realise what’s important,” she declared.
Paul put his arm around her and kissed her on the forehead.
“Same here, you don’t appreciate what you have until it’s gone.”
“This project is my purpose in life, and you’re a part of my destiny too,” she continued.
“I don’t mean to put you in difficult situations,” he began to explain, “but the nature of what we’re doing is risky. I realise that you’re correct though, it is happening too quick. I’m on the outside so it’s easy for me to dictate the pace without due consideration for your wellbeing, harder for you to enter a different reality every few days. I can slow this down, just say so, you come first, not the project.”
He kissed her on the lips this time.
“Earlier in the project, I had an encounter at Jupiter, remember?” He nodded so she continued. “I wrote the word ‘satus’ on a piece of paper and taped it to my mirror at The Institute. This truly is the beginning of an exciting journey, we can change the world. All I need is courage to see this through. Something important is about to happen and I’m not going to stand in the way. I’ll do whatever’s necessary.”
Paul hugged her tightly.
“That means the world to me,” he said.
With that, he released her and called for the attention of the twelve recruits. He hushed them, starting to address them as a whole.
“I have an announcement to make,” he declared. “Although the project has been on hiatus for two weeks, it’s full steam ahead from now on. I propose three major expeditions: one with all six of the residents of The Institute, another with all six new recruits, and the third with all twelve together. On each of these expeditions, we’ll scout out a new world, beginning just after the New Year and culminating on the 21st of February 1967.”
Tahra nodded to agree and Paul smiled with delight. Project OOBE had returned with a vengeance. He allowed them to discuss the next stage and while they did so, he pulled Tahra to one side, dying to ask something.
“About a week ago, I had a strange experience in the kitchen of the farmhouse,” he began, looking to see what her response would be.
“And what experience was that?” she asked, touching his lips with her finger. “Did you actually cook something for once?”
Paul feigned indignity.
“No, my dear Tahra, I felt your presence, it was if you were touching me. Where you there, Tahra? Did you remote view me?”
She detected the playful amusement in his tone of voice.
“Yes I did, because I missed you.”
“How did you do it? How did you make me feel as if you were touching me?” he asked, curious. “It seemed so real.”
Tahra struggled to explain how she’d achieved it.
“I don’t know,” she whispered, “but since I’ve used the machine on a regular basis, I’ve changed, I’m…enhanced.”
“Did you move the chair?”
“Yes, I believe I did.”
“I’ve never known a remote viewer who could affect the environment,” he said. “This really is something else, isn’t it? It’s the machine… I wonder if these are permanent changes. I need to take measurements of your electromagnetic field…”
She interrupted him with a kiss.
“You were right,” she declared, “it is exciting, it is a gift. Who can argue with that?”
***
The twelve recruits celebrated Christmas with Paul and Tahra, the dinner requiring ‘one helluva turkey’ as Tyrone put it. They discovered the simple pleasure of crowding around the huge farmhouse pine table, enjoying good food, wine, and conversation. Opportunities to socialise outside of the project were rare, and it felt good to remember they were all human beings with their own lives, foibles, and social commentaries to discuss.
Paul had bought a small gift for each of his recruits, commemorative cufflinks for the men with the number 7.8 created out of solid silver, and similar hairpins for the ladies with pretty gemstones set into it, including one for Tahra too. They were a small token of gratitude.
“I’ll wear this always,” she said. “It’ll remind me of what we achieved together.”
“It’s not the only gift I have for you,” he added, producing three more.
She opened them, beginning with the soft, floppy one, finding a beautiful red silk scarf inside.
“It reminded me of you,” Paul explained, “your passion and your fire.”
“Reminiscent of the passion I feel, for my life, the project, for you…”
He tied it loosely around her neck and she proceeded to open the other two, finding boxes containing a delicate gold necklace and a ring set with a ruby. Tahra loved them both and wore them immediately.
“I love all my gifts, thank you.”
She produced two presents and passed them to Paul, who opened them eagerly. He discovered a solid gold ring with an engraving of an Egyptian ankh on it, plus a framed photograph of the OOBE team.
“This has got to be the most memorable Christmas I’ve had so far,” he said, giving her an appreciative kiss.
New Year featured celebrations in a similar manner, fuelled by the belief that 1967 heralded a major breakthrough. Max always hosted his own party every New Year, although he accepted the OOBE team had formed their own clique now. They greeted the New Year with twelve bottles of wine, the chinking of glasses, and some drunken revelry, which progressed from a pleasant merriness to something a little more raucous. Everyone deserved to cut loose for a while though.
Curtis volunteered for the role of DJ, with some assistance from Sonya, who enjoyed pop music in addition to classical. They played a range of current and recent tunes, and as the night progressed, a whole chorus of OOBE recruits sang ‘Reach Out, I’ll Be There’ by the Four Tops. Paul appreciated the social atmosphere they’d created at the farmhouse, which seemed to imprint positive energy onto the fabric of space around them. Hearing the laughter, and sensing the hopeful vibrations in the room fostered his unshakeable conviction in his vision.
Nicholas and Emilie become rather intimate to the sounds of ‘I’m Into Something Good’ by Herman’s Hermits, accompanied by a sing-a-long in the background. In his semi-drunken state, he placed his arms around her waist and moved in time to the music.
“There is indeed something special on my mind,” he agreed, touching her affectionately on the nose. “I’m into something good!”
“You’ve made me a very happy woman,” Emilie told him.
Nicholas grasped her closer.
“You’ve made me a very happy man.”
Paul watched with amusement, noticing how even the shyest of residents, like Sakie were joining in. Tahra, Angelina, and Tyrone became the most boisterous singers, Oscar danced with Dominique, twirling her around the floor, and even Sonya drifted into the congregation, unable to take a back seat any longer.
Tahra sidled up to Paul, put her arms around his neck and her pelvis close to his, and swayed in a semi-drunken seductive manner. Nancy Sinatra’s ‘These Boots Were Made for Walking’ graced the air, with accompaniment from the OOBE quintet and Tahra decided to get playful.
“Would you like my boots to walk all over you?” she asked, smiling and teasing as she sent a little shiver of energy up his spine.
“Mmmm,” he murmured in her ear, “I hope you’re not just teasing.”
Curtis noticed the sexual chemistry between Paul and Tahra, Nicholas and Emilie, Angelina and Tyrone, and responded with The Kinks ‘You Really Got Me’. At the sound of the tune, the three couples laughed as Curtis gave them a wink. Nicholas and Tyrone struck up their own individual accompaniment, although Paul stopped short of singing, he simply moved his body in time with Tahra’s.
“I’m inclined to agree with the lyrics,” Paul said, running his hands up and down her body. “You certainly have got me going.”
Tahra brushed her lips against his, as a statement of what may transpire. Sensing his arousal, she elegantly stepped away from his embrace, pausing in the doorway and striking a provocative pose. Paul took the cue and walked towards her, although she moved away before he could touch her, waiting at the bottom of the stairs.
“I hope you’re not wearing your best underwear,” he laughed, “because I’m going to rip it off.”
Tahra winked and ascended the stairs, casting a glance behind her to entice Paul. He followed and she lingered in the bedroom doorway, where he swept her up and placed her on the bed.
They undressed with a sense of urgency, and Paul pulled off her underwear with his teeth, facilitating a quick entry. While Tahra cried out in a spontaneous finale, Emilie and Nicholas rose to an ecstatic mutual orgasm elsewhere in the house, accompanied by the twelve chimes of Big Ben coming over the radio.
Breakfast appealed to no one the next morning, although glasses of water, Alka Seltzer, and headache pills soothed stomachs and raging headaches. By the evening, everyone had settled down to quiet chatter, cups of tea, and a small buffet of nibbles. They talked of the three upcoming missions in the machine with excitement, preparing to get down to business again.
On the night of January the 5th, everyone congregated in the sitting room, ready to embark on the next major step. They all watched the news together, viewing in horror as Donald Campbell’s attempt to beat his own water speed record ended in tragedy. As his turbojet hydroplane, ‘Bluebird’ approached 300mph on Coniston Water in Cumbria, the nose lifted from the water and the hydroplane performed a backward somersault, killing him.
Paul felt subdued.
“So much for wanting to push the boundaries,” he said, quietly.
Hopefully, this wasn’t an omen for Project OOBE.
The next morning, the six residents of The Institute stepped into the machine with Tahra, who appeared tense as she’d never towed the consciousnesses of more than two people at a time. They reached out and interlinked hands, George, Oscar, Sakie, Beth, Peter, and Emilie, gazing over at the six empty chairs that would soon be filled.
Emilie looked particularly nervous, since her last journey in the machine had been a difficult one, but Tahra gave her a supportive smile. After a brief silence, they heard the needle touch the record, followed by the opening bars of ‘Good Vibrations’.
“I’m starting to tire of this song,” she commented. “He plays it repeatedly around the house too.”
The occupants of the machine felt the customary buzzing and tingling coursing through their nervous systems, the paralysis of their physical bodies, and the separation of their consciousnesses.
“Here we go,” Tahra heard someone say.
The resonance of the electromagnetic field threw them headlong into the void. Tahra clearly saw six points of light, and she visualised a net in which to scoop them up. Focusing hard, she imagined herself keeping a tight grip, as if her friends were fish caught in that net.
What new world would they discover?
She felt apprehensive, due to her encounters with the machine elves and the world of torture. However, this time, she had a support team. Whatever they needed to confront, they’d join forces.
Within moments, they emerged in a grey and featureless world. If anything, it looked like a blank canvas, albeit one charged with cerebral energy.
“Don’t forget,” Tahra reminded, “create a likeness of yourself so we can see each other.”
One at a time, the recognisable figures of Oscar, Beth, Emilie, George, Peter, and Sakie popped into existence, like magic. They looked at each other in confusion when they realised where they stood.
“Are we between worlds?” George asked. “This place is like limbo.”
Tahra shrugged.
“Maybe we’re meant to paint our own picture in this world,” she guessed.
That turned out to be a remarkably astute observation.
In the distance, or perhaps just the furthest point of their vision as no one could gauge perspective, they saw a dot, reminiscent of the first impression made by an etch-a-sketch. It began to move towards them, leaving a grey trail behind it. The point began to increase in size, becoming a fuzzy blur as it got closer.
“Do you all see that?” Peter queried.
They nodded and watched as it drew nearer, taking a more definite form the more they focused on it.
“It’s…a samurai warrior,” Sakie said, in disbelief.
A Japanese figure with ethnically correct features and a thin moustache typical of a samurai warrior advanced towards her. Clad in armour, complete with helmet and wielding a sword, he raised it above his head. Looking into his eyes, she noticed the irises of his eyes were ebony black, as if filled with inky liquid and Sakie took a step back, unsure of his intentions.
“It looks like a crawling baby,” Beth disagreed.
Looking deep into the advancing dot, she clearly witnessed a baby, swathed in a nappy, ambling towards her on all fours. As it crawled closer, she gazed at its face although discovered no picture of innocence, as it appeared distinctly alien with grey skin and huge black, almond eyes. Rather than turn away, she found herself magnetically drawn to it, however repulsive it actually looked.
“Strange, it looks more like…a sexy Jamaican lady in a bikini,” Oscar said, incredulously.
A beautiful girl with full sensuous lips and black eyes walked with a languorous gait. Oscar became entranced even though she didn’t look completely human.
“No,” Emilie interjected, “it’s a whole crowd of people.”
She watched the fuzzy haze separate into a crowd of amorphous people, clone-like with identical features. They had grey skin and black eyes, walking around in some kind of daze, as if they were asleep. Each person had a little cloud attached to their head via a string, which displayed their thoughts, their internal conversations, and their hopes and fears.
“I beg to differ again,” George countered, “they’re a platoon of soldiers.”
He saw a multitude of people like Emilie did, but they were soldiers, complete with uniform, helmets, and bayonets as if they were ready to leave the trenches for an assault over the top. Like the other images, the soldiers had ebony black eyes, giving them an unearthly appearance.
“I see my dead mother,” Peter added sadly.
A once sturdy woman appeared to Peter at the age of her death, in her mid-fifties, her grey hair swept up into a chignon. She walked with the aid of a stick and looking into her eyes, Peter saw those same black irises.
Tahra peered into the fuzzy dot and found a recognisable figure. One she knew all too well.
“What do you see?” Peter asked her.
An angry male figure strode towards her, waving a copy of the Qur’an. Maybe this reflected the repressed guilt of placing the holy book into a drawer, out of sight and out of mind.
“I see my father,” she replied, wanting to turn away but like the others, she felt strangely compelled to look into his black eyes.
“We see what we want to see in this world,” Peter concluded.
“No,” Tahra disagreed, “not what we want to see, what our subconscious is trying to tell us.”
Sakie’s samurai warrior stopped in front of her, sword poised, as if ready to strike. Beth’s infant crawled up to her feet and raised a hand, willing her to pick it up while Oscar’s femme fatale stood in front of him, untying her bikini. Emilie’s thought bubble people began to amble towards her, George’s soldiers formed a firing squad, and Peter’s dead mother held out a piece of paper. Tahra tried not to look as her father thrust a copy of the Qur’an into her face.
What the hell did this mean?
At that point, the field powered down and the interior of the machine came into view, the messages from their subconscious minds interrupted abruptly.
Paul opened the hatch with an excited and expectant expression on his face.
“Well?” he asked.
Tahra nodded, hiding the residual guilty feelings from the encounter with her father.
“I can tow six consciousnesses,” she declared, drawing on her successes, not her shortcomings.
Everyone in the machine looked at each other with a beleaguered expression on their faces. They moved over to the cine camera, where Paul gave an introduction.
“The first major expedition of the OOBE project just took one step closer to reality,” he declared.
***
Between this trip and the subsequent journey involving the six non-psychic recruits, Paul gathered his team and reviewed their progress. Recalling his out of body experience in the shop and Tahra’s chair episode in the kitchen recently, he enquired if anybody had encountered any unusual occurrences since using the machine.
Angelina and Tyrone shrugged their shoulders, finding it odd he should ask that question.
“No,” Tyrone responded, “if anything, everyday life is dull in comparison.”
Nicholas considered the question carefully.
“I just feel honoured to be a part of this.”
Curtis also reported a null effect.
“Nope, nothing outside of what I experience in the machine.”
Sonya offered a different perspective, however.
“Musically I feel more inspired,” she declared.
“I feel stronger as a person,” Dominique offered.
Oscar responded, “Well, I must admit, I think my remote viewing skills have sharpened. The visuals are clearer during tests at The Institute.”
Paul nodded, perhaps the field enhanced their existing skills.
George reported a similar effect.
“You know, now you’re asking, my remote viewing tests are more lucid,” he told Paul.
Sakie seemed uncertain, and simply said, “Maybe.”
Emilie added her experience.
“People’s thoughts are louder,” she answered.
Beth and Peter, however, hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary.
“Seems like business as usual to me,” she said.
“Nothing to report,” Peter told him.
Once Paul and Tahra found themselves alone, he raised the issue with her, as she pored over a text book, aware of her need to maintain good study habits.
“Despite the strange after-affects we’ve experienced recently, no one has confirmed anything unusual occurring in their everyday life. Some of The Institute’s residents have reported a sharpening of their abilities, although nothing to compare with the shop or chair incident.”
“I guess we’re just unlucky,” Tahra commented, bookmarking her page.
“Or lucky, depends how you see it. However, we’ve used the machine more frequently than the others, so perhaps prolonged exposure to the field is a factor.”
“If so, we can expect to hear reports from the others soon.”
Paul contemplated what she’d said, and returned to scribbling in the OOBE journal. What they’d experienced were simply aberrations, neither of them had anything to worry about.
***
The night preceding the next journey in the machine, the OOBE team relaxed in the sitting room, chatting with the television broadcasting in the background. A piece of news regarding the space race grabbed the headlines, so Paul reached over and turned up the volume.
“Three NASA astronauts died today in a fire that swept through the Command and Service Module of Apollo 1. Ed White, Gus Grissom, and Roger Chaffee boarded the capsule for a routine test, including a full launch rehearsal at 13:00 hours yesterday, but a series of problems with the oxygen supply and communications halted the countdown throughout the day. At 18:31 hours, a call warned of a fire in the cockpit, but despite attempts to escape the capsule and efforts by the ground crew to open the hatch, the astronauts perished in the fire.”
Paul watched as the news report concluded with a quote by Gus Grissom, interviewed three weeks previously.
“If we die, do not mourn for us. This is a risky business we’re in and we accept those risks. The space programme is too valuable to this country to be halted for too long if a disaster should ever happen.”
Everyone held a two minute silence as a mark of respect, not only for the dead but in recognition of the common mission they all shared: to break boundaries and explore the cosmos. Paul only hoped it wasn’t another omen for the OOBE project. Soon, the penultimate mission would involve Tahra leading an exploration into unchartered realms, guiding the six non-psychic recruits. It brought Paul one step closer to realising his ultimate vision, the maiden voyage of the whole crew.
***
On a chilly day at the end of January 1967, Sonya, Dominique, Nicholas, Curtis, Angelina, and Tyrone sat in the machine with me. I felt confident, having already towed six consciousnesses although I confess, I my nerves still jangled due to stepping into the unknown. Holding hands, we all gave each other a palm squeeze for good luck. We heard the opening bars of ‘Good Vibrations’, and I decided there and it would assault our eardrums for the last time today.
After the familiar feeling of being hurled from my body, I sought their consciousnesses and scooped them up in my protective net. We emerged in yet another new world, and I began to wonder how many different realms were out there. How many alternate dimensions of reality existed, a finite or infinite number?
The mind boggles, I thought. It boggles to the point of insanity.
Looking around, I saw a luminescent canvas of blue and red. The red glowed with a blood-like passion that seared with energy and conviction, whereas the blue dazzled the senses with its electric coolness. Red and blue corpuscles floated by, pulsing and rippling like liquid electricity, while a vast network of what appeared to be electrical cables glowed and pulsed, as if high voltage power ran through them.
Everyone began to materialise around me, the familiarity of their faces contrasting with the vibrant backdrop. They floated in this liquid medium of space, dazzled by the stunning environment.
“What is this place?” Sonya enquired, transfixed.
We appeared to be in some kind of tunnel, with a surface composed of tessellated hexagons, like the grid I’d seen before. In the centre of each hexagon I observed a small jewel, which glowed red or blue.
In the background, I heard a reassuring noise, like a whooshing sound with a steady rhythm, and both the cables and corpuscles danced to the beat of this tune. I noticed the fabric of space had a flow, and we allowed ourselves to drift on this current, it felt safe and warm.
“It’s so very beautiful,” Dominique said softly.
“It’s like music,” Sonya added. “It has a beat and tone.”
“You know what?” Nicholas realised. “This isn’t a world, it’s a body. We’re inside some kind of entity.”
Looking around, Curtis laughed and answered, “I think you’re correct. It’s a vast body. The tunnel is an artery or vein, and the corpuscles are blood cells.”
“Let’s locate the rest of the organs then, or whatever body parts it has,” I suggested.
We all agreed and I focused my consciousness on a point further ahead, where the arterial vessels seemed to converge. Where they converged, they formed a larger vessel, which joined up with another set of vessels, creating a more complex network of arteries. I guided my six travellers towards this final point of convergence in the arterial network.
Once we reached it, a heavenly sight greeted our eyes: the heart of this entity. I saw a glowing red hothouse of energy, which filled my vision and my soul with its divine current. It had the texture of silken meat, muscle tissue draped with elegance like theatrical curtains and in places, I observed how it stretched taut, displaying a radiant sheen.
Intermeshed with the silken meat I noticed what appeared to be gargoyle-like creatures, their human-like bodies immersed within the tautness of the silken meat. They moved sinuously, engaged in some kind of euphoric rapture, making love at the heart of this being.
On closer inspection, I saw vessels wrapped around the outside of this vast heart, entangled within the outermost parts of the silken meat and these vessels carried flashes of light. Within and behind the silken meat folds, I also observed a tougher substance like the walls of the tunnel, composed of tessellated hexagons glowing red and, in between them, little jewels glistened.
“This would make a fantastic blueprint for a robot,” Curtis commented, gazing on the heart with wonder. “A being made of electricity, circuits, and a physical body, maybe that’s what this is.”
“Whatever it is,” Angelina added, “it sure is dynamite.”
“Can we find the brain?” Curtis asked.
“All living things have some kind of brain,” I pointed out.
I tried to picture a central thinking point in my mind, where the nervous system would terminate. Imagining a network of strings, I drifted towards another destination, not forgetting to scoop up my friends in my protective net.
We discovered a network of superfine threads, like angel hair, but pulsing with flashes of light. I noticed how the individual fibres were entwined, although some loose ends trailed like a wispy fray. Again, I sensed a rhythm or beat that the threads or nerves swayed to.
Following the threads, we discovered they converged in an immense cavern, like the inside of a great sphere. In here, we felt like insignificant specks. Great spinning discs flashed with white light and from each of these discs, tendrils stretched out like the branches of a tree, connecting each of these discs together into some kind of network. Further tendrils extended from the peripheral discs to the inner surface of the great cavern, the tips of which embedded themselves into the walls.
“This is amazing,” Curtis commented. “I don’t think humans could ever build something so vast and beautiful.”
“Did anyone build this, though?” Nicholas questioned. “Or did it create itself?”
“I think we need to take a look at this entity from the outside,” I decided.
I guided our consciousnesses out as far as possible, taking us through its vascular system and through subtle layers of energy like electrical skin. The entity came into view, and she was truly divine.
Her lilac, iridescent skin sparkled with tiny flashes of electricity. Gazing at her divine face, I admired her beauty, her lips of deepest blue and the merest hint of a nose. She looked humanoid in many ways, particularly in the overall shape of her body and she stretched out naked in this medium of space. She possessed breasts and something like sexual organs between her legs. Her dazzling white hair fanned out around her head, as if she were underwater but the individual fibres reached out to the fabric of space around her, which featured a vast array of hexagons. The ends of her hair embedded themselves into the hexagonal tiled grid, like roots. At the moment her eyes were closed, as if she slept.
She was the only entity here in this dimension and, perhaps, she was the entire dimension.
“That’s one hot electric chick,” Tyrone commented, in his inimitable style.
“Do you think she’s dreaming?” Angelina wondered aloud.
At this point, she opened her eyes. I don’t know if she saw us, but she stared straight ahead and looking into her eyes, I saw something even more beautiful. Galaxies rotated and stars twinkled, she had the whole cosmos in her eyes.
“What the…” I heard a few of us say.
Vast space within a vast entity.
An immense goddess.
You have such magnetic allure.
I want to enter your eyes, embrace the cosmos within you.
Where will you take me?
Is this heaven?
However, the goddess, her cosmos, and the fabric of space around us began to dissolve. My heart sank as the interior of the machine came into view again.
I didn’t want to leave.
We needed to return.
Her eyes…the cosmos…
This would be the destination for the OOBE project’s maiden voyage.
We’d discover what lay within her eyes.
***
Paul listened to Tahra’s suggestion regarding the Goddess Realm as the destination for the maiden voyage. He’d already highlighted a world for everyone to visit, although out of fairness, he considered her input.
“I’m going to put it to a vote,” he said, “between the Goddess Realm and the Therianthrope Realm.”
Tahra nodded, but she’d still fight to persuade the others on the merits of the Goddess Realm.
Paul assembled all the recruits together in the kitchen, and they squeezed around the table like sardines in a can. He stood at the foot of the table and introduced the proceedings.
“As you’re well aware, we stand on the threshold of a series of major expeditions involving all twelve of you as a team.”
A few murmurs of excitement issued from the team, and Paul waited for them to subside before continuing.
“There are two possible destinations for the first of these expeditions,” he continued. “The Therianthrope Realm and the Goddess Realm.”
Tahra picked up the thread.
“You’re all familiar with the therianthrope world. With its expansive scenery and friendly inhabitants, it’s got great potential for long term exploration. However, our last trip revealed a truly divine world populated by one single entity…a vast goddess. She’s so beautiful and awe inspiring, and she touches my soul. When you look into her eyes, you see the cosmos, a potential doorway to a heavenly realm, or even another universe. I believe we should visit this world first and foremost.”
Paul interjected.
“Bear in mind that the therianthrope world has proven itself to be a vast storehouse of knowledge, which allows our findings to be put to some practical use. So, those of you who want to explore the Therianthrope Realm raise your hand.”
Oscar and George raised their hands, but no one else did. It appeared to be a foregone conclusion.
“I assume the rest of you would like to visit the goddess, then,” Paul said.
Ten heads nodded in unison. The Goddess Realm became the destination of the maiden voyage, and Tahra suppressed a little squeal of excitement, respectful of Paul’s defeat.
***
The next day, Paul received a telephone call from Max, no surprise as the climax of his project approached. After the initial pleasantries and enquiries, they got down to business.
“If the upcoming voyage is successful,” Max began, “there are a number of funding bodies very interested in taking this forward.”
Paul sat up straight in his chair.
“What funding bodies?”
“You don’t need to know who these funding bodies are, just that they’ll ensure your project runs for another three years,” Max pointed out.
Paul was torn. His project could be hijacked by a major corporation, but would that be worth it to continue OOBE for another three years? He felt the pressure and a myriad of thoughts ran through his mind. Maybe the investors would be philanthropic, people with a vision that equalled his own.
“That would be excellent,” Paul responded, wishing to appear interested. “My deepest desire is to revive the knowledge and understanding of these other realities, bring them to the awareness of humanity again.”
A pregnant pause followed, before Max responded.
“I strongly advise against progressing down that route.”
“What?”
“The funding bodies in question don’t wish to share this knowledge and understanding. Their money buys exclusivity.”
Paul felt crestfallen, he sought to reveal the deeper truths of the cosmos, not line the pockets of the elite few. However, maybe he could enter negotiations as to attain his profound objectives, he required funding.
“You need to give this some serious thought,” Max continued. “These are the people I answer to, even if I don’t deal with every one of them personally. They’ve followed this project every step of the way and will be looking at the results with anticipation.”
Paul agreed to give it some thought and put the phone down, after Max had confirmed his arrival time to oversee the maiden voyage of the whole team. The outcome of this next voyage became even more crucial, and running his hands through his hair, he realised he needed to pull out all the stops to impress Max.
***
During the build up to the maiden voyage, Paul ran a series of maintenance tests on the machine, including the calibration for the oscillator and the rotating electromagnetic field. He operated the field at sixty-five percent, checked the monitors, laboured over the EEGs and ECGs, and scrutinised every dial, slider or button on the bank of instrumentation in the control booth.
Casting his gaze over the machine, this polished metal pyramid housed within its dedicated barn, he felt quite emotional at the sight of his own creation. He couldn’t envision life without it, couldn’t embrace life without his vision, nor could he envision failure. Months ago, it had simply been an idea, however, he’d breathed life into this seed, fostering and nurturing it until it germinated, believing in it until it blossomed into full bloom.
An inordinate amount of pressure besieged him though, to make this fruitful both for the continued funding of the project and also to fulfil Max’s expectations. He contemplated how to create an unforgettable maiden voyage. Would a field strength of sixty-five percent be powerful enough to release the binding of thirteen consciousnesses from their bodies? The current intensity had proved to be medically and psychologically safe, now he gave serious consideration to increasing the percentage to seventy-five. Surely it could do no harm and bolster the experience for the participants? What difference could an extra ten percent make?
On the morning of the day before this crucial expedition, Paul awoke earlier than normal, gave Tahra a kiss on the cheek as she slept, and drove to the village shop to pick up a newspaper and milk. He ate breakfast while reading and it took his mind off the pressure, as his nerves jangled even though he’d tested every single piece of equipment.
He needed to impress Max.
Putting a smile on his face would encourage a glowing report, which potential investors would read.
Funding bodies would read the report and embrace his vision, see the potential for the human race, and they’d sign on the dotted line, ensuring another three years of funding.
Paul made a decision as he gulped the dregs of tea from the bottom of his cup. He’d run the field at seventy-five percent of its full intensity. This expedition would be truly unforgettable.
Meanwhile upstairs, Tahra opened her eyes when the first rays of the hazy sunrise breached the horizon, at five minutes past seven. However, she opened her eyes to a strange and disturbing sight. One of the capuchin monkeys from the Therianthrope Realm sat on the end of her bed, its startling human face staring at her. Its green eyes watched her and froze in bed, afraid to respond. Because it persisted in staring at her, she picked up her pillow and threw it at the monkey. It reacted by jumping off the bed, screeching and disappearing through the doorway to the small ensuite bathroom.
Tahra lay still for a while, trying to comprehend the sudden reappearance of these other-worldly beings in her life. There’d been a lull for a while, now they’d returned despite a latent period of three weeks where she hadn’t stepped into the machine. After a few minutes of gripping the bedclothes, she wondered if the monkey had disappeared back to its own realm, or whether it lay in wait, sitting in the bath, or on the toilet…
What a bizarre thought.
How could she explain to Paul they had a monkey in the bathroom?
She slid out of bed with caution and tiptoed into the bathroom, although why she trod so delicately, she didn’t know. Peering around the door, she wanted to squeeze her eyes shut, afraid to accept the monkey’s presence in the house. She held her breath and pushed the door open, sensing the presence of something not of this world. Tahra noticed the shower curtain drawn along the side of the bath and wondered if the monkey hid behind it, so she pulled it across, expecting to find the hybrid creature. An empty cast iron bath stared back at her, with a lone rubber duck sitting near the plug. She breathed a sigh of relief…the monkey had only made a transient appearance, just to annoy her.
Deciding to take a shower, Tahra twisted the faucets and a gush of water shot out. She drew the curtain and began to get undressed, hanging her silky nightdress on the brass hook by the door. Needing to check for signs of fatigue, she looked in the mirror, rubbing away the condensation. The reflection that confronted her made her jump. The ibis headed therianthrope looked at her kindly via her reflection, and spoke.
“It is time,” he said.
Tahra had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.
“Time for what?” she questioned, spinning around to see if he stood behind there, but there was no one there.
She turned to face the mirror, sensing something on the horizon…something out of her hands, something that had already been decided… something significant.
Tahra joined Paul at the table in the kitchen after her shower, with a towel still wrapped around her head. For some reason, she couldn’t tell him about the visitation she’d just received but he assumed her expression merely reflected the jitters before the first major expedition. He poured her a cup of tea and set a few slices of toast in front of her. She smiled and nibbled the toast, finding no great appetite.
“Max is overseeing this expedition,” Paul informed her.
Tahra failed to feel enthusiastic about his visit.
“He won’t arrive until tomorrow morning though,” Paul added, “so it won’t disturb our…nocturnal activities.”
At least it meant no over-night stay. Max’s presence at the farmhouse still had the potential to rattle her nerves, especially due to the secrecy of her relationship with Paul.
“I’m considering a change to the operation of the machine,” he continued.
“What are you proposing?”
“To compensate for having twelve bodies in there, plus you, I’d like to increase the intensity of the field to seventy five percent.”
“Has the machine operated at that level before?” she asked.
Paul poured another cup of tea, emptying the pot.
“Everything runs smoothly at sixty-five percent, so I don’t foresee any problems increasing the intensity by another ten percent. It may act as a boost, plus we need to impress Max and the funding bodies.”
Tahra raised her eyebrows.
“Was this Max’s idea really?” she asked.
“No,” he answered, quickly. “I’ve been giving it some serious thought. It feels right but I wanted to run it by you first.”
“I see no reason why not,” she said.
“Good. We run at seventy-five percent then.”
Later that night, after the final day of maintenance tests, Paul held a final meeting with the crew and found everyone in a buoyant mood. They understood Max would attend to supervise the expedition, and Paul wished his team the best of luck. Once they’d all retired for the night, he and Tahra relaxed in the bedroom, trying to watch television.
“I’m not really concentrating,” Tahra said, “you may as well switch it off.”
Paul obliged and slid under the blankets, joining her in a state of reflection and anticipation. They lay under the covers, wide awake, unable to think of anything else but the next day’s events.
“I can’t sleep,” Paul complained. “I keep wondering if something will go wrong, yet I’m surging with adrenaline because I want it to blow us away.”
Tahra looked over at him and smiled.
“I know of something we can do to relax,” she said, and reached over with her hand to arouse him.
He laughed, enjoying her touch and rolled on top of her.
“I’m the luckiest goddamn man on this planet,” he declared, and using his lips, he worked his way down her body.
After a prolonged and intense bout of love making, they fell into a deep sleep, ready for OOBE’s first major expedition.
***
They both awoke the next morning with a tingle of anticipation. The day had arrived, heralding the climax they’d striven for and the realisation of Paul’s vision. When the whole team gathered around the breakfast table, with multiple racks of toast, and tea and coffee to be consumed, Paul soaked up the excitement. On top of the world was an understatement. With morale at a high, no one wanted to refuse the trip and even Tahra appeared confident, even though she needed to tow a whole team this time.
Max arrived at 11:00am, two hours clear of the start time to debrief on the progress made so far and the schedule for the day. Tahra watched as they disappeared into the study, detecting an odd underlying tension in the air, however, she kept the recruits motivated and confident in the meantime. The two men emerged an hour later, their expressions giving little away and Tahra wondered what they’d been discussing. Paul gave her a surreptitious wink while Max mustered a quick cursory glance in her direction, finding she’d returned to her conversation with Emile and Nicholas.
Paul and Max fired up the machine briefly, detecting no faults so Tahra and the recruits filtered into the barn one at a time, having just finished a light lunch. Tahra arranged them in a circle before they stepped into the machine, and decided to make a speech.
“Let’s take a moment to reflect how far we’ve come,” she began. “Consider the worlds we’ve seen, contemplate how these experiences have altered our perspective, our concept of reality. We stand at the threshold of a much deeper and greater programme of exploration. Soon, we’ll make further meaningful contact with beings that inhabit these other worlds, treading where our ancestors walked on a regular basis. Maybe we’ll find worlds they’ve never encountered before. This is what I believe to be ‘satus’, the origin, the beginning of humanity’s journey. Now let’s go and visit the goddess.”
Everyone bowed their heads, showing reverence for the beings of these worlds, and the ancestors who walked with the Gods. Once they’d paid their due respects, each recruit looked around the circle, feeling fired up emotionally and physically.
All twelve stepped into the machine, filling the seats in a clockwise direction and Tahra lingered briefly on the outside, glancing at Paul and Max who stood in the control booth. She nodded to indicate her readiness, took a deep breath and entered the machine, taking the last empty seat. The recruits looked towards her and she smiled, taking hold of Peter and Beth’s hands, who sat on her right and left. The others followed suit and joined hands, forming a tightly knit circle.
Paul entered the machine and hooked up the monitoring equipment, placing electrodes on their heads to measure their brain waves and on their chest to ensure their heart rates remained within accepted norms. When he felt satisfied with the hook up, he retreated to the booth, where Max watched the proceedings, arms folded and finger on chin.
“Are you sure the visit to this world will yield the results I desire?” he asked.
“I’m positive the goddess will impart some knowledge,” Paul answered.
“The funding bodies are particularly interested in some useable technology. Only this will ensure the viability of the project in terms of sustained investment.”
Paul began to push the first buttons, and twiddle the first dials.
“I understand, but you need to give us time, this is only the beginning.”
He turned his attention back to the people inside the machine.
“Are you ready?” Paul spoke into the microphone.
A chorus of ‘yes’ greeted him through the speakers. He hunted around for the machine’s signature song, leaving the recruits querying the reason for the delay among themselves. After a short while, he gave his apologies.
“Um, I can’t find the record I usually play,” he said. “Does anyone know where I last put ‘Good Vibrations’?”
Inside the machine, Tahra tried to look nonchalant but found it hard to suppress a giggle. The twelve recruits acknowledged her guilt and smirked: who wasn’t sick of ‘Good Vibrations’?
“Just power up the field!” they called out.
Paul shrugged, feeling disappointed the machine’s theme song had mysteriously disappeared, especially on such an important day, but he booted up the sequence of frequencies and powered up the field.
Looking at the incremental settings for the pulsed electromagnetic field, he set the intensity to seventy-five percent as agreed with Tahra. As Max pointed out, he was the project manager and therefore responsible for such decisions.
Inside the machine, the occupants felt the customary buzzing and tingling throughout their bodies, and the familiar feeling of paralysis. Tahra closed her eyes and immediately became aware of twelve manifestations of consciousness, twelve presences, and twelve orbs of light. However, this time, she sensed something more substantial. Ignoring any questions raised by her gut instinct, she visualised scooping up her friends’ consciousnesses and focused on the destination of the Goddess Realm.
The transition between worlds packed a punch this time, and provided a vivid experience. Tahra sensed a huge rush, as if she’d been injected with a divine stimulant coupled with the caffeine from several cups of coffee. Looking around, she found herself floating in some kind of nether world, consisting of bright orange outlines of tessellated hexagons.
My team, where’s my team?
Tahra searched for the twelve orbs of light she had the responsibility of guiding, and discovered vibrant human energy forms staring back at her. Everyone had a body composed of pure energy with concentrations of radiance around the brain and heart, plus channels of electricity flowing like a vascular system of light. Some energy bodies were green or blue, or composites with pinks and lilacs, or yellows and orange, so the scene looked like semi-mixed luminous paint splatters. Looking down, she discovered her own energy body, a composite of deep red and purple.
“What is this?” she thought, aloud.
“This ain’t ever happened before,” Angelina added.
“We should be in the Goddess Realm,” Tahra pointed out, getting worried. “Why aren’t we there? What’s happening?”
Tahra felt something extract her from this nether world, pulling her away with a force too strong to resist. She watched the twelve energy bodies of her friends fade into the distance and instinctively, she reached out her arms, attempting to cast her protective net.
I’m losing them.
Oh no, they’re scattering in all directions.
What’s happening?
I can’t resist…I can’t control what’s happening.
Everything blurred and the hexagonal grid stretched and distorted before her eyes. Tahra felt sick to the pit of her stomach. What would happen to her friends? How would Paul feel when she revealed she’d failed the mission? Worse still, how would Max react?
However, a world solidified from the grid, as if someone twisted a camera lens into focus. Instantly, she recognised it, a world where planets, stars, and nebulae filled the sky. She now stood in a world where the stars themselves seemed to communicate with each other, the land and water sparkled with an unknown iridescent substance, and the air itself shimmered with a kind of white noise, full of dancing and vibrating molecules of energy. Tahra had been here before. She’d emerged in the very first dimension she’d visited, which triggered a memory.
One of the molecules of energy extruded from the background of noise and took a recognisable form. An entity approached her in a blazing white effigy of iridescence, the molecules of which cycled through different colours. Burning eyes accentuated its otherwise featureless face, and Tahra noticed the wings folded up on its back. It conveyed a sense of brilliance and power that both inspired and humbled her.
“It is time,” the angel-like entity spoke.
A feeling of dread overcame Tahra, coupled with a feeling of helplessness. She was trapped here.
Meanwhile, back in the control booth, Paul became aware something had gone wrong. The machine behaved anomalously, displaying some unusual vibrations, which hadn’t occurred during prior tests. What the hell was going on? He checked the readouts of everyone’s EEGs and ECGs, finding them highly erratic.
“This has never happened before,” Paul said, clearly confused.
Max unfolded his arms and took a step forward, staring at the monitors.
“There are seven of my best people in there,” he said, looking over at Paul.
Looking at the dial, Paul began to regret his impetuous decision. He’d never run the field at anything above sixty-five percent with anyone in it, so why had he risked the unknown by increasing ten percent, on this day of all others? Why had he let money be the driving factor behind this particular voyage in the machine? His heart sank as he gazed at the monitors, because all he saw was static.
“Visuals are down. I can’t see what’s happening. Shit!”
Chaos reigned, and Paul felt his hands drift to his face in horror. This just didn’t any sense, what difference could an extra ten percent make?
“Cut the field,” Max said, without hesitation.
“I’m going in to check on them myself,” Paul said. “I hate not knowing what’s happening.”
“Just cut the field,” Max repeated.
Paul rushed to the hatch and used the emergency release to pop it open. What he saw became imprinted on his memory. The field had produced a shimmering haze, something he’d never encountered before. Without thinking, he reached out to touch it, discovering a strong electro-static buzz. Looking beyond it, he barely saw Tahra and the twelve recruits, as something had happened to their bodies at a molecular level. The intensity of the field, or some unknown force had created a state of semi-invisibility.
Max perceived the shimmering electro-static field from the control booth, as it began to radiate out from the machine in a spheroid haze. Glancing around at the dials, sliders, and buttons, he stared at the monitor, which displayed static. With Paul in a stupor, he needed to act.
Outside the booth, Paul stood frozen momentarily, his only concern for Tahra in an altered molecular state. Regardless of how illogical it seemed and against his better judgment, he stepped into the machine, desperate to drag her out. However, as soon as he’d done so, he regretted it. The field dragged his consciousness from his body, while a sense of physical paralysis overpowered him. Paul found himself in a position where he could help no one.
Meanwhile, Tahra faced the angel-like entity. Its burning eyes bore right through her, as if reaching into her soul with fiery fingers. She tried to tear her gaze away, and for a moment, she caught a glimpse of silvery snakes worming their way across the sky, and the stars flashing in a cyclical manner. Multiple planets rotated slowly upon their axis, and the iridescent landscape glistened.
“Where is this?” she asked, hoping for a clearer answer this time.
The entity spoke although no lips moved, its voice rang clear in her head.
“You have been brought to the quantum fire level,” it explained, “a place only a highly advanced traveller can find. You now exist at the most fundamental level of dark matter in the universe.”
“If it’s so difficult to find, then why am I here?”
“Because I brought you here.”
“Why?”
“Because it is time,” the entity clarified.
“What is it time for?” Tahra pressed, realising the inevitable approached.
“Satus.”
A realisation struck Tahra.
“You spoke to me at Jupiter, didn’t you? We’ve already begun the journey, haven’t we?”
The angelic entity remained patient and dignified.
“You haven’t yet tapped the full meaning of this word, for it is more than a word.”
“Are you going to help me understand?”
“Yes, for there is something you need to do,” it continued.
“What if I don’t want to do it?”
“You have free will, therefore I cannot force you, but I believe you will give your consent. You will receive something in return to help you with this task.”
Tahra felt more reassured by the fact she had free will.
“Tell me what this task is.”
“I will show you,” it said.
The entity reached out and plunged its white fiery limb into her manifestation of consciousness, that dark red and purple powerhouse of energy. She looked down and saw how brightly it glowed now, but the entity’s actions became extremely painful and Tahra felt as if its fiery limb split her in two. In her mind’s eye, she saw a whole sequence of events, a clear plan…a purpose for her existence and on viewing it, she almost cried.
“Will you help?” the entity asked.
“Yes,” she whispered.
As soon as she’d consented, the pain increased in intensity to the point where she couldn’t bear it. She screamed, hoping this temporary distress would be compensated by the gift she’d receive.
Am I dying?
Did I sacrifice my life for a greater purpose?
The pain exceeded the grief caused by the machine elves, and as it overpowered her, leaving her to sense oblivion, the world of quantum fire began to dissolve in her vision. She saw a black void, free of hexagons, free of the grid, and free of any pain. A single point of light grew steadily in the distance and she felt a reassuring presence.
I’m dying.
I sacrificed my life for a greater purpose.
I consented, I’ve already stepped beyond the point of no return.
Meanwhile, back in the machine, Paul lay incapacitated on the floor. At this altered molecular level, the physical forms of the recruits became inconsistent, and cycled through brief moments of solidity before they dissolved into a state of semi-invisibility again.
Without warning, the field powered down, the machine barn fell into darkness and the emergency lighting flickered into life. Max had killed the power at the main switch, being the only person capable of decisive action. Paul lay on the floor of the machine, feeling movement return to his physical body. Looking over, he witnessed everyone returning to a state of solidity. Tahra gazed ahead, as if staring into space like the others, and a wave of guilt grabbed Paul by the guts because of what they’d just endured.
“Tahra?” he called out.
For a moment, he thought she’d fallen into a trance. However, on hearing her name, she jolted as if receiving an electric shock and a minute later, she turned to face him, clearly distressed. Paul stumbled over to her and embraced her with relief.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said. “I made a mistake.”
Tahra clung to him tightly, heart pounding, experience in the Quantum Fire Realm foremost in her mind. She trembled, fearful of revealing the terrible truth. How could she explain to him what had just happened? She pulled away and looked him in the eye, tearful.
“I’m sorry too,” she burst out. “I lost them, I’m so sorry, I lost them.”
Paul looked puzzled, holding her face in his hands and glancing over at the recruits, he realised what she meant. Unlike Tahra, they’d not regained normal consciousness. They were frozen, as if sleeping with their eyes open. What had happened, and what was wrong with them?
“They’re…stuck,” he said, swallowing hard.
Tahra gazed at them, scanning each recruit carefully and their lack of response. She couldn’t find the words…
“But why did you return while they didn’t?” Paul wondered aloud.
“The Quantum Fire Realm kidnapped me again, the world of the angels,” she explained. “One of them set me a task.”
Paul saw the fear in her eyes, the powerlessness, the defeat…
“What did it want you to do?” he asked.
Tears began to flow, and Paul brushed them away.
“I can’t remember, but I agreed to it,” she replied.
Paul soaked up her fear and without thinking, he kissed her passionately with relief then rested his forehead on hers.
“I think I saw a whole chain of events,” she explained, pulling back to speak to him again. “And even though I don’t remember them consciously, I clearly recall feeling this sense of …awe, that there’s a deeper truth to what the organised religions of this world tell us, something to do with the primeval number, and something that will affect all humanity. It’s…something beautiful, I wish I could remember.”
She rose from her seat and at that point, she saw Max standing in the doorway of the machine with his arms tightly folded, glaring at the both of them.
“Can I interrupt this tender little moment,” he began, with clear vehemence in his voice, “to ask what the f*ck has happened to my people?”
Paul looked over at the twelve recruits with remorse, as they remained frozen and locked out of their bodies. Tahra glanced at Max, realising that her relationship with Paul had become obvious, and his accusing stare sent a chill through her blood.
“It’s my fault,” Tahra explained, “I lost them.”
Max interjected, “No, lay the blame on the ineptitude of the project manager.” He gestured to Paul. “He exposed you to a field strength of seventy-five percent.”
Paul lowered his eyes in an admonition of his mistake. Tahra looked over at the recruits, and shook Paul gently.
“I’ve got to go back,” she declared. “I’ve got to go back and find them.”
Paul felt a sense of dread overtake him.
“Judging by the erratic readouts on their EEGs, they could be anywhere.”
“I don’t care,” she said, firmly. “They were my responsibility too. I’ve got to go back…I can’t leave them in their… nightmares.”
She moved over to the recruits, still shaken and touched each pair of interlocked hands, wondering what worlds they were trapped in: the benign ones, or the malevolent ones?
Paul stood up, facing Max’s intolerance of his failure.
“You know,” Max began, “I’ve witnessed something like this before.”
“This project has been attempted before?” Paul queried, incredulously.
“No, not this exact same project. An experiment was conducted twenty three years ago, well into the Second World War involving the application of a powerful electromagnetic field. The Navy wished to make a destroyer class ship invisible to radar, however, the ship became invisible to the naked eye. Subsequent reports suggested the ship had materialised briefly in another dimension.”
“What’s the name of this project?” Paul asked, realising Max had jogged a memory, something from one of his lectures…
“It’s generally referred to as the Philadelphia Experiment,” Max answered, vehemence still apparent in his voice. “And do you know what became of the men that returned from that other dimension?”
Paul gazed at the frozen recruits, wondering if they’d ever return to their bodies and he glanced back at Max, who took a step closer and said succinctly, but clearly, “They went insane.”
With that, Max moved away from the doorway and disappeared from sight, leaving Paul to survey the mess he’d made. Tahra put an arm around him and rested her head on his shoulder.
“Nobody ever said it was going to be easy,” she concluded.
Seven Point Eight:
The Second Chronicle
In the second instalment of the five part Seven Point Eight series, the legacy of the OOBE project weighs heavily on the conscience of Dr. Paul Eldridge. Tahra Mamoun needs to muster all her courage and venture back into the alternate dimensions of reality. Through a series of challenging, surreal and frightening experiences, she comes to comprehend the destructive power she can yield and must face her own demons in the process.
Paul continues his quest to understand the ancient knowledge of the cosmos, while dark forces seek to hijack his research to further a secret agenda. With their lives in jeopardy, Paul and Tahra confront their enemies against an international backdrop featuring the pyramids of Giza and the peaks of Switzerland.
Meanwhile, Sam and Ava endeavour to uncover their past, even though it may irrevocably change their lives.
In a tale of courage and tragedy, love and betrayal, their lives are interwoven around the demons of one man, Max Richardson, who'll stop at nothing to achieve his objectives.
Available on Kindle and in paperback now
Coming in November 2013
Seven Point Eight
The Third Chronicle
‘It’s Time To Wake Up’
Coming in June 2013
Hox
‘Even Angels Can Be Beasts’
Who’s That Girl?
Interview with the Cover Girl
Please introduce yourself.
Hi, my name is Monique Kathleen Candelaria. I was born in Albuquerque, New Mexico February 11, 1987 and about 6 months after, my father joined the Army. We were stationed in Bremerhaven, Germany but in 1990, we were moved back to the States, residing in Springs, Colorado. In 1992 my father had a brain aneurysm, making him a 100% disabled veteran so we moved back to our home state and I have lived in New Mexico ever since.
In a nutshell, I am enthusiastic, ambitious, goal oriented, determined, and creative. When I am creating, whether I am singing, acting, dancing, drawing, writing, modelling etc, you will find me in my most favourable state of happiness.
I decided long ago that if I can survive doing the things I love then that is exactly what I will do. What can I say? I am an optimistic person that reaches for the stars.
~
What key films/TV shows have you been involved with in the last few years?
Three of the major films that I was cast in are: “Bless Me, Ultima”, a New Mexican period piece directed by Carl Franklin; “Ten Year” where I play the role of “Amy Lee” and “The Banshee Chapter”, as “Patient 14.” Both “Bless Me, Ultima” and “Ten Year” should be coming out at the end of 2011 and “The Banshee Chapter” should come out at the end of next year. So, from being a 1940’s prostitute, to a modern day hot chic, to being an experiment gone terribly wrong, I have had the pleasure of embodying characters that have created great memories I want to keep forever.
~
What’s your favourite genre to work in and why?
My favourite genre to work in is supernatural suspense. I have always considered myself a very strong person physically and mentally, but the idea of an entity, demon or outside intelligent force shutting down my defence mechanisms not only ignites fear in me, but makes me want to find new ways to fight and conquer my unseen enemies, by understanding and exploring the unknown. As an actor, playing a character that is being attacked and allowing your body and mind to enter this vulnerable state is an experience that is overwhelming. In a strange way, it awakens the senses to see the world in a new light.
~
Regarding ‘Seven Point Eight’ and the character, Tahra that you posed for... in what ways are you similar to her and how do you differ?
Now I am incapable of astral projection, but in my moments of fear I found that by singing to myself, I could close my eyes and create other worlds that would soothe my soul. Eventually, I learned that by singing I could manipulate the emotions of others as well. I could make people feel joy and deep sadness. People recognized me for this ability and that is how I began singing at weddings and funerals. Like Tahra, I found that my abilities were one part of me that no one could take away. So I perfected my skills and allowed them to grow in every way, shape and form. I found that no matter what art form I dabbled in, I could move people internally whether I was singing, acting, dancing, modelling, writing, or drawing. My talents, as well as Tahra’s, are not just gifts but a defence mechanism. It makes us who we are and we would die without it.
I think she knows the effect she has on people but I do not think she understands the extent of her abilities. Do I see myself this way? Well… lol… okay. So yes, I would say I am sexual by nature. When I feel like I am doing absolutely nothing, others see me as being seductive and alluring. Anyhow, I have accepted that I cannot erase the characteristics that people see, but as an actress I have learned to control and manipulate them enough so that people are not completely distracted by it. This has allowed me to obtain different acting roles and see myself grow as an artist.
Perhaps Tahra, as a child feeling utterly alone in the world, she developed a need to be close to the familiar and those that she felt loved by. I feel that Tahra as an adult needs to feel loved by someone, anyone. Is her love real? I believe she wants it to be, but I see it as fake… I’m a lone wolf. I have many acquaintances and very few close friends. I like being alone to do all the things I love and avoid unnecessary distractions. Love for me is an idea, not a sweeping passion. I have yet to be blown away or swept off my feet. I see other females and they fall in and out of love so easily. In truth I envy this ability. I don’t know that I will ever truly understand.
~
What’s your dream film/TV role?
I have sooooo many!!!!! But I suppose if I have to choose I would be in a film like Underworld and play the character of the vampire warrior Selene. It’s action, fantasy, and thriller all tied into one! My kind of movie!
~
As a finish to this interview I want to thank you, Marie, for allowing me to be a part of your masterpiece. This journey with you has been an honour, privilege and an overall experience I will never forget. How you found me in Albuquerque, NM is beyond me, but I thank God that you did. Continue to work on everything your heart desires and may life bring you happiness and joy.
~
Monique Candelaria can be found on Imdb.com and Facebook.
Acknowledgments
While it takes one solitary writer to actualise the initial inspiration, a polished and complete piece of work can only be attributed to a supportive team. I’d like to thank my first Beta Readers, Quentin Thorpe and Chris Parkin for providing the enthusiasm to release my book into the wild.
Furthermore, I’d like to thank Richard Crookes for creating such a beautiful and stunning cover that is truly a work of art. I also extend my appreciation to Monique Candelaria for agreeing to model for the character of Tahra and to Shawn Darling of Gryphon’s Egg Productions for the necessary photography.
This book could also not be complete without the research of others and I have drawn from a variety of published books. These are listed in the bibliography.
Author Bio
Marie Harbon has worked in both the retail and fitness industry. She has a degree in sport and fitness and taught group exercise for several years, delivering aerobics and Pilates classes. For two years, she delivered BTEC Sport courses and has also instructed dance and sport with children.
She wrote her first novel length story at the age of twelve, which in retrospective was an early prototype of 'Lost', in that her secondary school class were shipwrecked on an island and had to contend with giant rabbits and aliens. Since then, she has written on and off, evolving her style and literary maturity.
Marie is a member of the Nottingham Writers Studio and New Writers UK. Her future plans include not only continuing with the 'Seven Point Eight' series, but involve writing YA, children's and adult books, short stories, novellas and scripts.
Aside from writing, Marie has two children and lives with her son, four guitars, and reams of fabric in the town of Eastwood, Nottinghamshire, which is in England. She is a self-confessed fabric geek and purveyor of beautiful, often ostentatious bags, bustiers and clothes.
Subscribe to Marie Harbon on Facebook
Follow on Twitter @marieharbon
Visit on the web at www.marieharbon.com
Like The Seven Point Eight Chronicles on Facebook
Bibliography
Berlitz, Charles (1979). The Philadelphia Experiment. Souvenir Press.
Blavatsky, H.P. (1888). The Secret Doctrine: Vol I – Cosmogenesis. The Theosophical Publishing Company.
Braden, Gregg (2007). The Divine Matrix: Bridging Time, Space, Miracles, and Belief. Hay House.
Capra, Fritjof (1975). The Tao of Physics. Fontana Paperbacks.
Chester- Lambert, Alison (2009). Starry Messengers. MidlandsSchool of Astrology.
Dunn, Christopher (1988). The Giza Power Plant: Technologies of Ancient Egypt. Bear and Company.
Feeney, Paul (2009). A 1950s Childhood: From Tin Baths to Bread and Dripping. The History Press.
Feeney, Paul (2010). A 1960s Childhood: From Thunderbirds to Beatlemania. The History Press.
Goswami, Amit Ph.D. (2001). Physics of the Soul: The Quantum Book of Living, Dying, Reincarnation and Immortality. Hampton Roads.
Hancock, Graham (2005). Supernatural. Arrow Books.
Harrison, Ian (2005). Where were you when… Remembering 180 extraordinary events. Collins & Brown.
Huxley, Aldous (1954). The Doors of Perception. Vintage Classics, Random House.
Lemesurier, Peter (1981). The Armageddon Script: The Power of Prophecy & The Secret Life of Jesus. Element.
Lescott, James (2007). The Forties in Pictures. Parragon Books Ltd.
Lescott, James (2007). The Fifties in Pictures. Parragon Books Ltd.
Lescott, James (2007). The Sixties in Pictures. Parragon Books Ltd.
Strassman, Rick M.D. (2001). DMT: The Spirit Molecule. Park Street Press.
Talbot, Michael (1981). Mysticism and the New Physics. Penguin Group.
Plus a myriad of web sites that unfortunately I didn’t keep track of, many thanks to all of them.