THE TUNNEL AT THE END OF TIME.

INTRODUCTION.

PART ONE: LEFT AND RIGHT HANDS OF THE GODS.

01

Это возникало из – за щитов ...
из – за ракет, которых "там" не было сначала,
но которые будут "здесь" в конечном счёте.

Yes, the shields ... humans are born with them,
much as angels are born with wings.
It is propaganda, of course ...
the truth has always been an existential relativity.

Funny ...
They say I am balding ... getting old and senile.
But the truth is that I have always been bald.
I am "Transforma" ... the symbol of the old
empire now fallen.

I am ... the bearer of vision and conscience.
I am ... the judge and the predator.
I am ... the eagle.

We saw it coming, didn't we "Vrebatima"?

I kept silent ... and no one believed you.
But who is laughing now?
Yes, only us ...

The Armageddon was inevitable ...
We needed it, and so we created it.
But it is only illusion ...

Только иллюзия.


02

No illusions!
No delusions!

We knew only the Truth of Destruction!
We – Über! ... and my one-legged
father taught me only how to kill:

kill Buddha!
kill Hitler!
kill yourself!

my mother – Nothing, but older
and more sorrowful ...

my father - Nobody, but more merciless
and sadder ...

Look: my daughter goes from Emptiness
to Emptiness in order to kill every tear
before her birth:

And now Absence doesn't cry anymore,
Emptiness doesn't spend any more money
on funerals –

that's the Truth of Non-existence!

"Nothing" is my mother –
"Nobody" is my father –
and there are no tears between
them

Nein!


03

левая рука Бога?

Ahh, the left hand of God!
yes, I saw it once: floating
over the Sahara.
Little did I then know that
it was the rosebud of Intervention.
Who could have guessed?
It danced so gracefully, like
Salome's dance of the veils –
stirring up a frenzy of sand
against the windless sky

I miss the slithering creepy-crawlers
which once tattled the mysteries
of the night. They are long gone;
as are the polar bears, the whales,
the crocodiles, the bees and the sharks.
What have you done, Terrans?
What were you thinking?

Lost in meditations upon finances
and power, you lost sight of the
greatest wealth you owned.
And you crowded only a few
humanoids onto your hastily-built
arks when the floods and dis-ease
ravaged so mercilessly.

Some called it the work of
the antichrist, but the antichrist
was humanity itself: which
had been too long on the rampage
of greed and apathy and imbalance.

You raped and you raped;
and defiled both humanity and
nature.
A barren Terra wails but we
are not comforters Vrebatima.
(nods)
We are merely the scribes
who observe and note the
crimes for future reflection.

Tell me a story Vrebatima,
but allow me to keep my Buddha.
I have nothing else.

Tell me again about the
fires and the tsunamis and
the screaming; and
the fallen Buddha statues.
Поведайте мне Vrebatima ...

сообщите мне!

Break with your emptiness
and violate the nothingness,
Vrebatima.

Tell me about the dried-out
moss on the floors of the
naked forests, and of the
sad Russian lullabies sung
by the dying hummingbirds.
Remind me of the carcasses –
long since picked clean by
crows that had become vultures
out of necessity of survival.
Jog my memory, O Vrebatima:

сообщите мне!


04

Believe: in the Sacred Rats.
The Execution of the world is –
the execution of a Ritual.

An angel, rushing down,
made a heart-rending cry:
Let rats fuck their daughters;
coin dolls born from the
Dollar –

On the gold of their fathers
fucked in manure ...

Let rats fuck their daughters!
..............................

Power
Power
Power of prices alone –
ascending from the worthless world
to Zero: 0000000000000000000000!

After zeros
(instead of bullets)
only holes are left –

00000000000000000!

There are no more
Great Chinese Walls!
The decay!

The Empire died like
a pitiful trembling
rabbit.

In cash-machines there is
a "share" for each –
the Universe will no more be
rammed through by the hawk.

It's clear now:

God didn't die –
the Will died ...

Der Wille zur Macht?

Nein! –

Das Nichts zur Macht!
Das Leere zur Herrschaft!

0000000000000000000000000!


05

I am fucked … we are all fucked.
The Great Bear is howling in
the Siberian woods …
and Vrebatima has hunger
in her soul – as do I.
Our forefathers were perhaps
foolish to give up the Cold Wars,
to kill Saddam Hussein and
to invade Afghanistan.

I followed the Sacred Rat,
and he deceived me
time and time again …
fucked me up real good.

As the leading superpowers
we had control – and we
agreed to disagree, making secret
strategies together, for viewing
and consumption by the world.
The people of the world were stupid.
They never understood the farce …
that every argument and action
was contracted and choreographed.

We provided both excitement and
the security of balance.
But now we have lost our rhythm,
and our equilibrium is shaky at best.

I miss the rat …

Do you still remember how to
dance Vrebatima?
You used to be so elegant …
a true Russian princess.

Let me rest my beak on your
womb my beautiful predator;
and please caress the feathered
nape of my neck with your
claw – two unlikely lovers
baring resemblance visible
only to the initiated:
of beak and claw, both royalty and
scavengers of the spoils
of imbalance.

Where is Buddha? He has
disappeared from the mountaintop.
And where is Christ? He has
descended from the cross.
(It was cold here on Terra,
and we needed the wood.)
They are both having tea
with Nietzsche, who is
dressed up like a ballet dancer.

Where am I, Vrebatima?
I am lost in my own transformation …
in the winter of my own samadhi.
Wake me up from my dreams …
but let me hold onto my illusions
and my delusions.

I need the escape … I crave the drug.

Maya is heroin for the tired soul.
I am fucked …
I am …
I …


06

Ich –
Ich bin –
Ich bin tot –

Ich tot bin!

I – Vrebatima! Я – Mahakala!
I – Yama! I – Shiva, dancing
only on corpses ...

I – Destroyer of this
too (super-too!) human
Universe!

I – Bhairava, but not rapturous
God Eros –

to hell with sex, Transforma:
Cut off the balls of each
inamorato!

Shoot off the head of each
beautiful doll!

I – des Todes Tod –
I – Clear Death –
I – Clear Death –
The ABSOLUTE OF ATTACKING DEATH!

For: all "people" are riffraff!

For: Transcendence Itself
and He who transcends wants to drink
their blood and shoot them down!

What, Transforma, didn't you
know that?

Didn't you feel the Clearest
Unevitable Essence of Death?

I – DESTRUCTION!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I – ABSOLUTE SPIRITUAL BREACH!

NO PITIFUL REMNANTS!

In the ass are fucked
only yelping sluts ...

... all soft ottomans
have been shat on by young
pussycats ...

But Nietzsche ordered
to bomb Las Vegas!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


07

Funny about the military missile
platforms in space.
Only one-third of them are pointed
to Terra; the rest are pointing
to outer space.
Man is a predator out-of-control;
a soul-virus and a threat
to the whole universe.

I mourn for the aliens who were
tortured and killed by us, in
order to steal their intelligence.
Information we were not ready
to use properly, and which led
to our own demise as a world.

And the Intervention (says the
voice in Transforma's head).
(sighs)

And the damned garbage floating
around in the Terra orbit system …
as below – so above.

What? Shhhh! (says Transforma
to the voice in his head)

The old USA was a “whore-goddess” …
a giant golden vagina with penis-like
hairs, hoarding and fucking and
standardizing all in its path.
“In God We Trust, and his name is
Dollar.”

Blah, blah, blah …
and all that blaehhhh …
(Transforma laughs hysterically,
then sobs, and hiccups and farts.)

You know, you tell me to
forget about sex … but
did you know that
I was once fucked by the
finger of the God?
It is true; by the middle finger
of his right hand.

Impaled, like the Spaniards who
were forced by the Incas to sit on
sharpened tree stumps until
their guts exploded … as
punishment for their greed for gold.

Yeah … (thoughtfully). Impaled.

At my moment of death I saw the
Sky of the Last Days; the Destruction
was a magnificent show:
beautiful pink, orange and purple
skies, with mushroom clouds as far
as the eye could see – and beyond.
And all was so quiet, too;
except for the gentle lullaby that
hummed in my head.

Сладкая колыбельная.
Сон – это спасение... отсрочка.

Sweet lullaby.
Sleep is salvation … reprieve.

To my left there is a child in
tattered clothing, half-starved and
too resigned to beg anymore …
and to my right there is
a whirling dervish, spinning
'round and 'round – lost in
his own private ecstasy.
Both are barefoot.

Alas, there is no death …
only sleep.


08

Are you listening, Transforma?

Ich ist das Nichts zur Macht!
Ich ist das Leere zur Herrschaft!

Between us there can't be
Any Harmony.

Between you there can't be
any Germany.

The Fair Eagle of Severe Spirituality
has died forever.

The Chinese "I Ching" hexagrams
didn't turn into Ravenous Beasts.

Confucius is not inspired by
the voids of "Mein Kampf".

But, Transforma ... Tao killed the
dragons in vain –

Now bullets won't
find the revolver!

Nobody will shoot
The Yellow Emperor!

People forgot:

God's Dick – is the Ram of the Sky! –

The Аmerican Saturating Revolution
is not worth even a single dick of the
japanese kamikazes!

Europeans …

pleasant Takheshi Khitano
will never repeat the hara-kiri of
Yukio Mishima.

Look –

exponent of piffling lives
"life of spirit" after suicide by
Hitler.


09

бритый

Bald ... barren ... bare
as the mountaintop on
which we stand.

Our new vision shall
rise from the ashes,
as the Phoenix.

And I shall learn
to love you Vrebatima.

If not, then we shall
ride the missile of Hell
together – bareback ...

(snickers)

a crazy cossack
and a psycho cowboy

Azrael is my witness ...

we will never die ...
only our bodies will wither
and disintegrate to dust

and we shall be remembered
in the annals of history ...
perhaps as mere footnotes
remembered only by trivia fanatics
in decades to come.

But I will always dream of
our voyage, Vrebatima –
over and over again,
like a merry-go-round that
never stops, changing simple
joy to horror.
A bittersweet nightmare ...

If only the dreamer would
never wake up.

Can you promise me that ...
Vrebatima?

Бритый

yes, I love my bald dreams ...
and Russian caviar.


10

worms ...

only worms ...

now only worms are – Holy! –

always continuing, creeping through

dead God ...

Snakes slide away ...

Rats run away ...

The Mystery of Creatures wakes even God up ...

But when Jesus hears the word "culture" –
He doesn't take out a revolver:

John Lennon can masturbate,
jump, masturbate, jump,
masturbate, and jump
on and on ...

Do you see, Transforma –

even Lord Krishna left the Battlefield
and took Arjuna with him.

What for, O Lord?

To fuck Saint Silvia
in two holes.

Do you understand?

Gods and people – are only the Spirit's Porno!

Ja! Ja! Ja! -

Buddha's ejaculation into His own

Skull!

Nobody wants to eat
corpses of sybaritic
natives ...

Germans?

Where are the marching
Germans?

... there are no Wild
Holy Exotics ...

... no one exercises
in Breaching of the Spirit ...

... there's no one to be fed to
the rats ...

... the blood stopped to look for
Light ...

...a dick doesn't thirst for twats
of the Sun ...

....................

ex nihilo nihil fit.

satori?

samadhi?

Shun'ja!



PART TWO: THE GREAT ENDING OF THE END.

01

ego cogito, ergo sum?

Auf!
Auf! Nicht röcheln!
Nicht röcheln!

cogito Todt Ist,
sum ist Summa Summarum
Nichts =

Nein ist Nichts!
Nein ist Nichts!
Nein ist Nichts!

Auf –
Auf –

Nicht!

Here is the Key to it all:

Nichts Nichts Nichts
Nichts Nichts Nichts
Nichts Nichts Nichts
Nichts Nichts Nichts
Nichts Nichts Nichts
Nichts Nichts Nichts
Nichts Nichts Nichts
Nichts Nichts Nichts
Nichts Nichts Nichts
Nichts Nichts Nichts
Nichts Nichts Nichts
Nichts Nichts Nichts

das Nichts zur Macht!
das Leere zur Herrschaft!


02

(sobs)
You undress my gods shamelessly,
Vrebatima!
I huddle and shiver in the shadows
of my own spirituality.
There is no god but God ...
and I am God – naked
and exposed in the face of
my own and collective
illusions and indiscretions.

What is the use?

Billions upon billions of gods
running around, making their
own realities in confusion.

Let us cut out the spiritual pork!
Bring back the Age of the Guru ...
and bring back the Prophets.
It is too much responsibility to
be my own god.

Tell me what to believe ...
show me how to act.
Lead me back into the
Darkness.

The Darkness of the Eternal Womb ...
the elixir of Nothingness.


03

I am not a Dark Tao. I'm not Nirvana.
I am not Om ..........................

I am – Isana. I am – Nataraja.
I am - the Clear Transcendent of Death.

I am – The Left Hand of God –
and I can only Kill.

I Kill all the Truths.
And first of all – Myself
as a Truth ...

I AM – ABSOLUTE BREACH OF SPIRIT!

That's why – Killing myself! –
I know for sure:

Western gods – shit!

Eastern gods – huge
manure heap!

I know! - the old Will to Power
should be replaced with Nothing to Reign:

das Nichts zur Macht!

I see! – The Great Noon should
turn Emptiness into Domination:
das Leere zur Herrschaft!

The existing formulas are not enough:
"Be strong", "Werdet hart" ...

Now you should Kill
"yourself" – within Yourself ...

and even –

the Omnipotent within you!

Exactly so! It is only by killing the Omnipotent,
that you can understand the last
Truth of Horrors' Horrors:
"The Devil is Dead" - it is truly more
horrifying, than "God is dead".

O Great Gods! You are – Stinkers! –
too many of you ... but You are all still
alive. What a Lie ...

only one Devil is the Spirit of Honour! –
because he is always dead.

Deus est mortuus?

Diabolos mortuus est!


04

I stand naked before you, Vrebatima ...
yeah – even naked before myself
and the god within me.

I have faced Death,
but Death was only mortality:
an experience that I longed for
only because it was faceless.
Hiding a secret that no one
really cared about anyway.

I am not proud, Vrebatima.
I weep for Amerika ...
and the << dream >> ...
long since exposed as illusion.

Yea, I am naked and dirty, Vrebatima
... and blinded by the sunshine
reflected on the snowcaps.

I hear you ... but you must
court me if I am to believe you.
I only know Détente ...
I have never known Love.

Silence is greater than
the absence of Noise.

бритый

Bald ... barren ... bare.
It is in the Nothingness
that I find meaning, and there
that my Existence has value.

бритый

Bald ... barren ... bare ...
stripped of all intent;
an existence devoid of fear
and purpose.

бритый

Bald ... barren ... bare
as the Now ... the moment,
of Silence ...
without expectation or
apprehension.

бритый

Bald ... barren ... bare ...
as the word "no" -
whispered in orgasmic
ecstasy.

бритый

Bald ... barren ... bare ...
stripped of all humanity
and self-respect
by the airport scanners.


05

Also sprach Zarathustra:
Gelobt sei, was hart macht!

Naked? ... But that's not enough –
you need more,
you need to strip your skin off
while still alive:
reveal your bones –
reveal your intestines –
reveal your Emptiness!

Aha! ... Transforma demanded
"to cut the spiritual pork out of gods" –
and suddenly ... immediately surrendered
without a battle.

Spiritual rebellion but for a moment?

Do you only wish to "suck off" the Gods? –
in this case Hölderlin will question you with severity.

It's better to be like Lord Krishna -
to fuck the 100 000 beautiful gopis
immediately and all at once.

But it is – the same decadence, Transforma!

Better yet, let me quote
"The Dhammapada" for You:
He killed his mother and father, and two kings from
Kshatriya's caste, destroyed the kingdom together
with its population, the brahmin became imperturbable –

Does it mean anything to you?

Here are the words regarding Spiritual Luxury from the regal
"Bhagavad-Gita":
I have become Death,
I have become the shatterer of worlds!

Kill the Gods, Transforma!
Kill this eternal whining, crying, quaggy,
tear-dropping god Eros!

Kill your own dick!

Exterminate all the stupid lovers,
poets, readers, spectators of Your
Exhibitionist mania –

shoot them all down!

As earlier in old, good Germany,
we will talk in the language
of the Clear Transcendent –

Transzendentalphilosophie!

THE HIGHER TRANSCENDENT IS SHAPED FROM NOTHING –

WITHOUT dicks!
WITHOUT twats!

Only - "das Ding an sich"!

Do you know that Kant was good at shooting
with his "Shmaiser"?

hitting: 10 out of 10!

And can you do that?

I remember, that in "The Tibetan Book of the Dead"
the following was written:
There will be a time –

Hitler constantly shooting himself
might miss sometime
and make a hole in somebody's head –

it will be Your head, Transforma!
It is so mulish
that even Buddha could break
a stick against it ...

Bang! ...

Bang! ...

Bang! ...

How many sticks are necessary to break
against your bald head?

The Right hand of God should do
more than just masturbate.

Stop wasting seed
and tears ...

Buddha said: no more Existence!

THERE WILL NEVER BE EXISTENCE!!!

Nullpunkt!

Nichts!

..................

Schreibe mit Blut:
und du wirst erfahren,
dass Blut Geist ist.


06

Vrebatima, surely I will never
reconcile with you in this world.
The old rules worked just fine
until recently; money, power,
greed and the threat of missiles
and sex have always been
our personal gods.
Do not fool yourself.

I will send you some beautiful
black orchids, dripping with
the blood of one thousand
national anthems ... and then
you will understand and
once again cry tears of joy
for our lost Cold War.

It was our only hope for peace.
Our only real expression of Love.
The only proof of Existence.

What is the use of Divine Intervention?
What was the point of the crucifixion
or the Holy Wars?

If we achieve peace then we must
find new enemies in outer space ...
it is the way of humans, Vrebatima.
It is the way of the Warrior God.

Meet me at nightfall – in the barren courtyard.
And bring your Sword of Silence!


07

... this and then there is Victory?

I will quickly draw a Sword of Silence,
strike a blow -

and Silence has already approached ...
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... ........................


08

(sobs)
... and so it ends, Vrebatima.
In cold silence – détente.
Once again we agree not to
communicate, not to seek
resolution or understanding.
Is it really human nature and
the way of the gods, or is it us?
If it is truly destruction that we
both really want, then surely it is
Silence that is the Great Destroyer.
(sighs)
It is an uncomfortable silence, hostile and
fraught with projections and scheming.
It is a "noisy" silence ... quite different
from the Oneness of Unity and
the Absence of Separation.
It is a silence that makes angels and
the soldiers of Divine Intervention
cry with sadness.
(indignant)
But it is a silence that we know
all too well, Vrebatima ...

and so far, the only silence
we truly trust – deep down
inside ourselves.
(snickers nervously)
Es triste ... pero es cierto.


09

Be afraid of the Absence of
Evil:
not the dark,
not the beast,
not the blade,
not the poison –

but the Tear Itself will kill
the child!

The Grass Itself will kill
the lamb!

Not the shadow,
not the tiger -
but the Aroma and the Rose will kill
you!

I saw the terror of the first flower
on a Spring Field:

alone – it didn't want
to bloom for the Sky ...

didn't expose
itself to a Kindred Sun

and the first dew
trickled down it

and the first moth
was startled by it

and the first bee
flew away

show Your Nothingness on
the petals!

expose Yourself
without any blooming!

You are – the Void
without name
and shape ...

Come from
Nothing ...

And Again
Vanish ...


10

Expose yourself – and wake up.

Yes ... wake up.
Wake up and
destroy the dream.
Embrace the nightmare
of Nothingness.

Caress the baldness.
Lick the Sword of Silence.
Stop waiting for Divine Intervention.
Become the Divine Intervention.
Let it be your zazen.

Sing me a lullaby without words,
and without sound.
I no longer believe in the messiah ...
or in the antichrist.
I see both in my own reflection
in the mirror of darkness.

The only tears that I have left
are tears of blood ...
it is only blood that I can offer you,
Vrebatima.

Tear down the cross and
send the virgins home.

I, Transforma, will sit on my mountaintop
and you, Vrebatima, will sit on yours.
We will bridge our differences by
watching over the goings on and
when necessary - cooperating on
keeping the populace in blindness.

Together, we will maintain the smokescreen,
with the help of religion and the media.
Always a sideshow on the stage of consciousness ...
distracting the masses from the real danger:
the sweet-sounding lies that soothe and abet.

I believe in the worms, Vrebatima ...
and the unspeakable names of
the gods within all who both embrace
and cower in Darkness.

Tear down the cross and
send the virgins home.


THE END.

EXCERPTS FROM THE TUNNEL AT THE END OF TIME.

ACT ONE: THE MISSION.

Ga awoke in a sweat, thinking: «The Devil comes at nighttime». 'Ifafi was sleeping soundly, and snoring. Ga nudged him – gently at first – and then more emphatically: «'Ifafi, wake up! You are snoring.»

«Wha.... ?!!» mumbled 'Ifafi, rubbing his eyes, and scratching under his left wing. «What time is it?»

«The sun will be up shortly,» replied Ga. «We need to get up and prepare for the descent into the tunnels.»

'Ifafi nodded and then turned back onto his right side, ready to return to his slumber. Ga would have none of it and kept talking: «I had another vivid dream, 'Ifafi. This time it was in Russian, German and English ... a conversation between an American eagle and a Russian bear.»

«Heh, heh,» replied 'Ifafi, «that sounds like an animated Disney film.»

«This was no children's story, 'If» exclaimed Ga. «It was all about the lies told by the American and Russian governments, the collusion, the conspiracies leading up to the End of Time. The only thing is that they referred to themselves with the New World Order regional names: «Transforma» and «Vrebatima».

'Ifafi sat up in the bed and leaned over to kiss Ga on the forehead and then on the lips, lingering just a bit.

«Hey 'If!» exclaimed Ga, while gently pushing 'Ifafi away and turning onto his side with his back to his partner. «No time for monkey business now. It is your turn to make breakfast and I need a shower. I am covered in sweat.»

'Ifafi pretended not to hear and continued to squirm up against Ga's backside, kissing his neck, shoulders and wings.

«I mean it, 'If!» insisted Ga, while laughing. «You are insatiable!»

'Ifafi pulled away and sat up in the bed again, put on a sulky and pouting face and said: «I thought you liked that about me.»

«I do, Fool! But this descent into the tunnels below the Denver Airport is going to be a demanding experience for us. We need to be alert and focused. Come on now – get Thee into the kitchen and make me some breakfast while I jump into the shower,» said Ga while leaning over to give 'Ifafi a quick peck on the cheek.

Ga scampered off to the shower, singing the final verse from «Zingara sten farno»:

Icueza cantare moenø pei
solani veinå quon mare
icueza mentari elizena che
quale øpfani en tana.

Zingara sten farno,
fantuvi goan rulci mene,
eluelco neuxpå zentaven amu.
Ulempå skovå nnana
cquerca wuleka ... intelgo;
cquerca wuleka ... zingara.

Zingara sten farno –
sten farno accompli.
Tes quofta Kristiania,
Tes quofta.

Tes qofta Kristiania, tes quofta Kristiania,
Tes quofta ... tes quofta.


Singing that song always made Ga a bit homesick. They had been away from their home station for several moons now – first making preparations for the mission at the headquarters at Mount Shasta, and then at the Intervention Montana Regional Office which was their «home office». The shuttle flight from the Montana office to the Denver Airport was a short one, but energy level acclimation would require an hour. The Denver Airport area was one of the toughest and darkest energy centers in the whole of Transforma.

While putting on his uniform, he could detect the delightful odors from the kitchen: breakfast tea, oranges and the fresh almond biscuits. «I am hungry,» he muttered to himself.

«Good!» said a smiling 'Ifafi, who suddenly stood right behind Ga. «Now move aside so I can shower. I hope you left me some hot water!»

«'If ... don't sneak up on me like that! You startled me. How many times have I ...»

«Yeah, yeah babe,» laughed 'Ifafi, while patting his friend on the buttocks. «That uniform is fitting a bit tight, isn't it?!!»

«What is THAT supposed to mean? I don't have a weight problem. If you think ...»

«Ha, ha ... just commenting that you look good, my friend! Now git ... ah gots ta shower.»

Ga left the bathroom muttering to himself, and 'Ifafi could be heard singing an aria from the opera «A Cowboy in Transforma».

The view of the physical area below was spectacular. The Monavi Eternal City of Universal Light was well-situated in that it was in a perimeter devoid of major storm and meteor activity. The Montana landscape – albeit altered by the ravages of natural disaster – had a rugged beauty, expressing pride and defiance. There were a number of residents in Monavi, but 60% of the population worked at the Intervention Montana Regional Office in one capacity or another. Many of these workers were scientists and technical experts in the fields of energy development, water refinement, air refinement, geology and mechanical engineering. Of course, there were a few intergalactic anthropologists and post-Intervention re-training specialists working with Ga and 'Ifafi as well.

Ga was lost in his thoughts while staring out of the windows of the kitchen. Their abode was situated right on the edge of the City and offered a fantastic view. The vast open Montana sky gave a panorama view of the ground below, including several ICBM silos – recognizable by the 12 foot high white pole-like structures on ½ acre plots of land, and surrounded by barbed wire fencing. 'Ifafi had recently told Ga about the many ufo incidences at Malstrom Air Force Base from 1967 and onwards up until the Intervention. In 1967 several missile sites were effectively shut down by these «visitors» - both as a show of force, and as part of an information gathering mission in advance of the Intervention. The increased space exploration and launching of satellites combined with advances in nuclear technology was a worrisome matter for members of the Federation. At first NWO and military high-officials thought that these incidences were pranks or warnings by Orion and the Zeta Reticulians, with whom they had a cooperation. But in fact, these and other ufo interferences and sitings at strategic military and scientific installations were mostly the work of Federation Apache Force spaceships. It was first in 2008 that the then USA government (now called «Transforma» of course) realized the futility of trying to protect itself with nuclear arms – both from threats on Terra, and from threats from outer space. The spread of nuclear technology nullified the military superiority of the leader nations on Terra, and the clear demonstration by ufos of how easy it is to knock out the missiles led to renewed talks of nuclear disarmament. During the peak of the so-called «Armageddon» with the natural disasters (polar shifts, mass flooding, fires, asteroid storms, dramatic temperature shifts), energy crises, economic collapse, wars etc. the Intervention Planning Commission quickly disarmed these strategic missile facilites across Terra and turned many of them into underground shelters and Intervention bases. One of the largest in Transforma was the Cheyenne Mountain Directorate, located inside Cheyenne Mountain (on the southwest side of Colorado Springs). Another large facility which was supposedly «civilian» in purpose was the Denver Airport. This facility was – in actuality – a NWO-complex boasting some 53 square miles of underground facilities and tunnels, six stories under the surface of Terra. Originally, this massive facility was designed and built with the intention of housing pre-picked survivors of the «Armageddon» and NWO-takeovers of the US government, military and other institutions. The placement of the facility in the middle of the continent was not coincidental, as it was long expected that much destruction would ravage the Eastern and Western coastal areas and many thousands of miles inland. In fact, NWO-leaders had scientific teams that contributed to magnify a number of these «natural disasters» - both accidentally as a result of nuclear and other testing which seriously disturbed the tectonic plates, and also purposely in terms of the development of chemical and biological agents designed for warfare and for population control. Of course, many of these scientific experiments got out of hand, as epidemics spread beyond target populations and diseases mutated. The establishment of FEMA was perceived to be an effective way of providing a national structure in the USA which could «take control» when the shit got out of control. The «chosen» would be transported to various shelters («modern-day Noah's Arks»), of which Denver Airport was a primary facility. The hope was not only to «save» the humanoid race from total extinction, but also to maintain a base population that was «controllable». Similar NWO-operations existed on all inhabited continents on Terra. The onset of the Intervention put a «cap» on the «evil plan» by NWO and Orion – effectively a plan to enslave Terrans as a colony of Orion – but the underground facilities proved useful to Intervention forces anyway, and similar underground research and strategic facilities were built by Intervention forces as well. One example being the scientific dna research facilities in Norway, constructed under the command of Lysiel.

Ga felt a warming glow within himself as he thought of his colleagues and friends Lysiel, Katurana, Lateina and Eonurai. Suddenly his reverie was broken by the booming sound of 'Ifafi's voice: «I am starving ... let's eat!»

Ga smiled and said, «Yeah – it looks great. Velkommen til bords (welcome to the table).»

They ate and talked little, prefering to empty their minds of «noise» ahead of the journey before them. Then suddenly 'Ifafi began to quip: «Well, let us see: the main terminal (known as the "Great Hall" is 900 feet by 210 feet large; which is over 1.5 million square feet of space. There are over six million square feet of public space at the airport in all. There are several million persons living down there and several thousand Intervention staff personnel working there. According to my computations, our research team should be in and out of there in a few hours ...»

Ga looked at him – first in surprise – and then broke out in laughter, precipitating 'Ifafi also to join in. «Yes, yet another impossible mission ... or 'mission impossible'», he retorted. And then they both fell silent again ... reflecting upon «the mission».


THE MISSION.

Somewhere in the several mile-long series of tunnels NWO-scientists and military forces had hidden arsenals of nuclear assault weaponry, chemical and biological warfare experimentation data and formulae, and other sensitive and dangerous materials that must not fall into the «wrong hands». The re-education of Terrans was still underway and the genetic re-seeding project was still in its infantile stage. It was therefore vital to do everything possible to prevent new destruction and panic on Terra while necessary planetary and individual adjustments and reconstruction were being effectuated. Their mission was – of course – top secret, and they would have to operate under the guise of conducting a census and inventory of facilities. Their team of six would have their hands full. What only Ga and 'Ifafi knew was that the designated NWO-leader called «The One» was suspected to be operating undercover amongst the multitudes in the underground complex. He would have to be identified and neutralized.

Ga snickered to himself: «The 'One' – right! He and his cronies have been taking advantage of the fears and ignorance of Terrans. The nerve of this fifty year old mortal, parading around as 'the Antichrist' and calling himself 'The One' while secretly challenging and thwarting true Oneness.»

«What is that?» asked 'Ifafi, briefly looking up from the profile they had had done up on the NWO-leader.

«Just talking to myself, love» muttered Ga, while starting to clear the breakfast table.

Ga and 'Ifafi, having been fully briefed on their mission by Kartion and Samuel-Angelus (functioning chief for Terra security at Mount Shasta), clambered into the awaiting shuttle provided by the Intergalactic Federation to meet their team at what was once euphemistically and deceptively known as the Denver International Airport. In reality, the whole place was a thinly veiled chamber of horrors conceived and designed by the leaders of the NWO and built and financed by the architects of FEMA for the housing and extermination of millions if not billions of “surplus humanity”.

As they made their approach into what had now become a central base for human/alien activity in Transforma, Ga cringed as he could still see the undeniable swastika pattern of the original runways and taxiways that scarred the hundreds of square miles of desolate plain below. The original “tee-pee” shaped architecture that had once dominated the exterior facility had been replaced by three huge connected geodesic domes, but both Ga and 'Ifafi clearly remembered the original odd and almost eerie structures from photographs during their briefings. Supposedly the structure was meant to complement the nearby Rocky Mountains, but the odd structure proved too fragile for what occurred in 2012. Their shuttle descended directly into an underground hangar as a round aperture in the ground near the northern-most dome structure swirled open for their arrival.

Upon departing the small craft, they were met by an individual who introduced himself as Jon Ekbar, a Terran and a senior aide to the facility directorate.

“We are honored to have you as our guests” he stated in a heavy British accent as he reached to shake hands with Ga and 'Ifafi. “Prefect Garth, the head of the Colorado Regional Facility Directorate, assigned me to see to any needs you may have while you are here. You are the first of your group to arrive, but the others are expected shortly. A meeting room and office have been arranged for your group’s use and will be ready in approximately two hours. In the meantime, I will show you to the quarters that have been reserved for you. Please follow me.”

After a brief exchange of gratitude, the pair followed their host through a short tunnel to an intersection of several similar tunnels housing a metallic cylindrical lift. As the doors opened and they stepped inside Mr. Ekbar continued: “ This is underground level I, the interstellar flight operations center and terminal. We will descend to level V. That is where most of the directorate officials and VIP’s are housed as well as several conference and meeting centers. Your meeting and operations rooms will be there as well and at your disposal as long as you are here. One level above that is where the Facility Directorate has its primary offices and the main operations center. Level III is for medical and scientific research facilities, and Level II is where most of the security forces are housed and operate. Ordinarily, one would stop there and be screened before going further, but that is not necessary in your case. The Prefect has given you and your team top security clearances for all levels.”

“And what exactly is beneath Level V?” Ga asked.

“Well, there are actually six more levels beneath level V. They cannot be accessed by this lift, but only through the central core tunnel, which opens to the surface in the central dome. Those are the largest and deepest levels and populated by hundreds of thousands of a mixture of humans and aliens. I was told that this is where you will conduct the bulk of your work. They are a maze of bunker style dormitories, tunnels, caverns, and survival facilities designed for what was then the NWO’s planned housing and extermination of … well, I don’t need to go into that ...”

Just as Mr. Ekbar was about to discuss the “unmentionables” the door to the lift opened into a brightly lit and somewhat sterile corridor. As they followed the man down the corridor they were led through a somewhat open space that could only be described as a promenade of different dining and recreational-type facilities, and then into another corridor where they were ushered into a small, but comfortable suite with a separate living area, bedroom, and small kitchen. After acquainting the pair with all the amenities of the suite and instructing them on the use of the intercom and security system, Ekbar stated rather mundanely, “After you have had a chance to freshen up and rest, someone will be sent to escort you to your meeting and operations rooms as soon as the rest of your team arrives.” As he was leaving, Ekbar handed each of them a small metallic device about two centimeters square and approximately one-fourth centimeter thick.

“Keep these with you at all times. First off, the security system reads them and clears you for the various levels. Pushing the button on the front of the device for two seconds will summon me to you immediately and tell me where you are, regardless of where you are anywhere on any level. Pushing the button twice in quick succession will summon a full security force to your location. Basically … that’s your ‘panic button’ and locator. You will also be given communications devices, but they don’t always work in the lower levels.”

“Does everyone get one of these?” Ga inquired.

“No, those of us permanently stationed or living here are injected or implanted with microchips for security and tracking purposes, only you and your team and other special ‘guests’ of the facility get these.” Ekbar replied.

After Ekbar left, 'Ifafi stated “I need to get out of these cloaks and stretch my wings … this whole place is really disturbing to me … there’s some sort of negative energy that seems to permeate and that radiates from everywhere.”

Ga nodded and frowned. “I’ve felt it since we started our approach. We will require longer periods of meditation to try to block it out. This is going to be a difficult mission, my love. Undoubtedly, the one we seek has gone deep into this facility and will be protected by not only anonymity, but I’m sure he has also insulated himself with several layers of protection by followers he has recruited. The negative energy means we will not always be able to rely on our usual perceptive abilities, as he will be using that very same negative energy to cloak himself.”

“Oh, I see what you mean. As we are trying to block the negative energy, he will be using it to his advantage. Oh, and how do we know it’s a ‘he’?”

“Exactly. And, we don’t know it’s a ‘he’. Good point.” Ga replied. “Only the Prefect that Ekbar mentioned is supposed to have all the details of our mission here. I didn’t sense that Ekbar had any clue as to the real reason we are here. As far as anyone knows, we are here on behalf of the Federation to perform a preliminary census and a diversity study of the human-alien relations in a mixed facility.»

It wasn’t long enough for Ga and 'Ifafi before the rest of team arrived, and Ga and 'Ifafi were led to what would be their “headquarters” for the mission. In actuality, it was a small suite of rooms with a fairly large conference room, a smaller office equipped with computers and communication equipment necessary to communicate privately and directly with Kartion and Samuel-Angelus, and a small kitchen and break room.

When Ga and 'Ifafi entered the conference room, the team was already there. Sara had been especially chosen by Ga for her incredible ability with linguistics. She could instantly switch to and from angelic, human, and alien languages and dialects with unusual perfect comprehension. Ulrich was chosen by Kartion for his unique empathic abilities and gift of mentally sharing his perceptions with others at will. Lugh, was an old soul brother of Ga and one with whom he had shared spirit guides in the past. Ga trusted Lugh as completely and implicitly as he did 'Ifafi and would rely on his honesty and perception of the other members of the team. Ga also greatly respected Lugh’s intellect and innate ability to seemingly almost totally control any emotions. This talent allowed Lugh to give thoughtful advice usually uninfluenced by any emotion whatsoever. Lastly, there was Laila, a Terran that 'Ifafi had encountered near Oslo. A beautiful specimen of humanity, with her flowing red hair and indigo blue eyes, 'Ifafi had immediately sensed her uncanny psychic abilities and deep-seeded spirituality. They had become friends immediately, and through several regression sessions, discovered that she was host to a very advanced soul, and had the experience of over five millennia of incarnations on Terra. At 'Ifafi’s urging, she had been one of very few existing Terrans to be allowed to spiritually and psychically visit a Celestial City of Light to receive training for a mission such as this.

“Adonai everyone!” Ga said, as cheerfully as possible under the circumstances.

“Adonai!” the group replied in chorus as they took their seats around the circular glass-top table.

“I know that we all have been briefed on the purpose and goal of this mission, so I will not belabor the point or re-iterate the seriousness of achieving our goal. I want to take this time to get everyone familiar with our setting and to solidify our strategy. Lugh, I believe you have received the information on the facility requested from Prefect Garth. If you will, please brief everyone on the specifics of what we are facing.”

Lugh reached into a small bag that had been slung over his shoulder and produced a crystal obelisk and placed it in the center of the table. As he went to a panel on the wall and dimmed the lights, he pointed a small pen-shaped device at the crystal which emitted a ray of light on the object. As he took his seat, the Obelisk began to glow and above the center of the table a three-dimensional representation of the Denver facility materialized before them.

At the top, and near the ceiling of the room, one could plainly see the surface facility and its three connected domed structures. Under the northern-most dome, was a five-level facility, which all of them realized was where they were located, the top-most level of that expanded further north, still underground, but was clearly the area used for incoming and departing spacecraft.

After giving everyone a moment to study the projection, Lugh began, “As you can see, the surface facility is marked primarily by the three protective geodesic domes you all saw as we arrived. These are the public areas of the facility and they are also used for screening and recording of visitors and inhabitants. The area where we are located is a five-story underground structure located directly beneath the northern-most dome. We are here on the bottom level,” he said pointing.

“How do we access the lower levels?” Ga asked.

“Well, there is a connecting tunnel on Level II used by the security forces to directly access the central core tunnels you see on the diagram, but to use those would immediately draw unnecessary attention to ourselves. We shall go to the central dome, and enter the central core through the main public access. As you can see, the central core is essentially a vertical shaft nearly 50 meters wide with three tunnels spiraling down a total of almost 75 meters. Directly in the center of that are the air shafts, power cables, etc. The uppermost level is nearly 10 meters beneath where we are now. Under the original NWO plan, the levels were designated by greek alphabet letters Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta, Epsilon, and Zeta. They have retained those designations for simplicity. As you can clearly see, the main underground facility dwarfs this one. All five levels of this operations facility are not even one tenth the size of these six levels. There are three smaller vertical shafts to the surface around the perimeter housing large lifts for equipment and supplies, but access to those is highly restricted. Our security clearances will give us access to them if needed. As you can see by the diagram, these six levels are a virtual maze of dormitories, common areas, tunnels, and caverns. At any given time there can be more than three hundred thousand people down there.”

“Amazing,” retorted 'Ifafi. “It’s even bigger than I had imagined.”

HEAR VIDEO OF "ZINGARA STEN FARNO"

ACT ELEVEN: THE FINAL DAY - NIALL'S MEMORIES.

Niall awoke suddenly from a series of vivid dreams – a kaleidoscope of pictures and memories from his childhood and early adulthood, streaming across the cinema screen of his mind in rapid succession. He yawned, rubbed his eyes and stretched, and then said to himself: "Well, well, well ... this is finally it! This is the day I have been preparing for all my life. By midnight tonight I will rule the planet." He laughed to himself while humming from his favorite Leonard Cohen song: "I'm coming now. I'm coming to reward them. First I will take the planet ... I then I will take the Universe!"

He still had an hour before he would meet what was left of his "staff"; it was only 5:30 a.m. He had luckily managed to avoid Ga, 'Ifafi, Lugh and the other goon – Ulrich – so far. The fake Ekbar stunt was a huge success ... even though he lost the Prefect and his communications manager. "That weasel better not squeal," muttered Niall, thinking of the communications manager who had been wounded and taken into custody. Late the night before Niall had gotten word that Antonin was dead. As far as his sources knew, he had committed a courageous act of suicide. "Antonin is a organization-man though," thought Niall. "At least he knows what loyalty to the cause is ... he would rather die than betray the crusade – and especially in these final moments."

"The Crusade", thought Niall, "has been going on forever." Niall knew that his own roots at least stretched as far back as the Knights of the Templar. The mission was the same then as now: to harness the spiritual connections of individuals on the planet, control their thoughts, behavior, speech and ... ultimately control every aspect of their lives – making them slaves to the privileged few. No one in the long lineage had been successful until now, although Napoleon, Stalin and Hitler had all put some very important pieces of the puzzle into place. "And now", thought Niall as he thought of his relatives, "it is my time ... my time to bring it all together; once and for all."

His "hide-away" on the bottom level of the facility was out of reach to all but his trusted staff, and even they did not know what specific room he lived in for the time being. His father "Avery" had taught his much about power and trust (or rather dis-trust). "Keep your friends nearby, but keep you enemies even closer within your view" he would always say. Avery was almost sixty years old when Niall was born, and he died in 1986, but – in spite of Niall being an illegitimate son – he provided for Niall financially, got him into Harvard, hooked him up with the "VIP's" and always told him: "Niall, you are the future incarnation of myself – born even before I have left this damned planet. I cannot reveal your identity to my legitimate sons because they will destroy you. They are clever, and they have their roles to play but it is YOU, my son – that has "inherited" the legacy of becoming the "Prince of the Planet! And it is YOU that will realize my dreams, and the dreams of our ancestors."

A tear welled up in Niall's right eye as he thought of his beloved father. He had first learned of their connection when he was eleven years of age. He had been "snooping around" in his father's desk at home and came across his birth certificate. Lo and behold there was another family name listed for the father. Investigating further, Niall discovered a short while later that he had been adopted by his "father" the policeman when Niall was only six months old. Niall confronted his mother, who told him: "We did not want to tell you ... we figured you would find out on your own when the time was right. You see, back then we had serious financial difficulties and your "real father" approached your adoptive father with a proposal. Yes, he proposed to give your father a half million dollars to spend a weekend with me. I was quite beautiful then, I suppose. I did not want to do it, but your father insisted that it was the solution to all of our problems and would secure the future for us and for our future children ... so I did it. Your real father was a very rich and very influential man, with a taste for the beautiful things (and women) in life. I conceived you – out of wedlock – and tried to give you a "normal life" with public schools etc. as best as I could. Please do not hate your adoptive father ... nor your real father. They are both good men, and both deserve to be called 'Father' by you."

Niall remembered that day like it was yesterday. He now understood who this wealthy "uncle" that popped up every blue moon was, and even more importantly – Niall – even at such a young age knew what he needed to do in order to make his life a success. And so he began meeting his "uncle" discreetly, and learned more about the workings of the world and the nature of humanity than any booklearning ever could teach him. It was – in fact – his beloved father "Avery" that introduced him to Machiavelli's masterpiece "The Prince", and who taught him about the "royal" bloodlines: Bundy, DuPont, Rockefeller, Collins, Freeman, Kennedy, Li, Onassis, Reynolds, Russell, Van Duyn, and of course – Rothschild. It was his "father Avery" that encouraged him to study foreign languages, martial arts, mind control and thought projection techniques, as well as psychology and the strategies of war-making. And it was "father Avery" that got him into Harvard and the Scroll and Key society.

That being said, Niall's adoptive father was a drunken son-of-a-bitch, that beat Niall and his mother. His mother was – in spite of her distant links to the Rothschild dynasty – rather weak and timid. She was no matriarch, but rather acquiesced to the men who "know best". It pained her when Tom (Niall's adoptive father) beat Niall, but when she tried to protest or intervene he beat her as well. In the end it was always Niall that had to pull his father off of her and keep the family business "in the family". Niall hated Tom, better known as Thomas Andrew Finnegan. But he – officer Finnegan – was highly-respected in the local community, and soon – with the help of Niall's real father – became a Mason and a local politician of note. Niall's mother died of an overdose of sleeping pills after she learned of Avery's passing. She received no recognition from the "family", and her husband had been having an affair with his young and ambitious secretary. All three of his "parents" were deceased now ... and Niall was glad. "This is MY legacy," he thought. "And no one shall lay claim to a damned shit ... not even my so-called 'legitimate' brothers that think they already own the world!"

The alarm on his watch sounded: it was time to "get up". Niall scrambled towards the make-shift bathroom, pissed and stared at his visage in the old and worn mirror. He looked like shit. He began to shave, all the while humming: "... First I will take the planet ... I then I will take the Universe!"

Afterwards he did his daily calisthenics ... military commando-training exercises he had done since his early days at the NSA. Suddenly he made a connection: "Damn! THAT is where I know that bastard from! Fucking Lugh! He trained with me at the NSA!" And with that Niall worked out harder and harder, until beeper sounded: announcing the arrival of his "staff" at the agreed-upon meeting place on the lowest level. They would strategize the final events. Niall grinned from ear to ear: "Dare to struggle, dare to fucking WIN!"

After heading back into the tunnels en-route to Epsilon level to join Ulrich with their select security forces, the three angels began to telepathically discuss what they had learned from the “interrogation” of Wendell so that they would not be overheard. Ga started the discussion: “So, we were correct in our presumption that the real Ekbar/Niall is holed up in some sort of makeshift command center on Zeta level, but what do you two think all that 'tunnel at the end of time' business was all about?'

“Well,” Lugh began after a slight pause, “Whatever it is seems to actually be beneath Zeta level, but there's not supposed to be anything below Zeta level. I got the sense that Wendell believed it to be some sort of passageway but it must be some sort of inter-dimensional distortion of some sort that Niall or the NWO discovered. Do you really think they have found another one? I thought the Zeta Reticulans said that there were only three. The one in the Bermuda Triangle, the one in the Mayan Pyramid, and the disabled one in Egypt, but not another one on this continent. Depending on where it leads, it could be more than dangerous – it could be disastrous. I got the sense that Wendell's knowledge was at least third-hand and more gossip-based. I didn't figure it out at all till the few bits and pieces the communications chief provided fell into the puzzle.

“Yes,” Ifafi interjected, “I got the same feeling. Don't forget another ancient one was found under that pyramid in Bosnia in 2011. Shortly before the actual first contact with the federation. They must have found another one, and that is how Niall must plan to escape. Surely they have figured out by now that Ulrich has completely sealed off any other means of getting out of here.”

“I agree.” Ga replied. “I had feared something like this. Those two we interrogated did give us enough pieces of the puzzle to safely assume that the NWO and Niall have, in fact, found another gateway portal. We must assume it leads somewhere they or their allies control or feel safe. We need more intelligence, but let's proceed with our plan ... and with the assumption that there is another portal and that we must gain control of it.

It didn't take as long as Ga had thought to wind down the four levels of the tunnel to get to Epsilon, Perhaps it was the intense conversations he, 'Ifafi, and Lugh were having, or perhaps it was tension of the situation with their own guards on high alert for possible ambushes – whatever it was, the trek mercifully ended quickly without incident. Upon their arrival, they found Ulrich in complete command of the new operations center and barking out orders to the handful of technicians he had obviously recruited in the short time he had been down there.

“Ulrich, I am most impressed. Where did you get these technicians?” Ga asked.

“Believe it or not, they are maintenance techs that used to work for your Ekbar clone or whatever you captured up on Alpha level a couple of hours ago. He had sent them down here to dismantle or disable all this equipment down here. Obviously, Niall or some of his people must have come across the same thing I did and were trying to disable it before we could do what I have just done.”

“Can you trust these people?” Ga asked.

“Heh, I showed them a couple of the vids from the security cams I was using to monitor you and 'Ifafi in case you needed help. I told these guys to choose which side was going to win this little showdown. There were a few who resisted, the ones you see made the correct choice and are more than willing to take this asshole down. Apparently, Ekbar was loved by everyone. Oh, and we have another surprise for you.” Ulrich grinned broadly, and pointed to a glassed in office where a young man sat in a metal chair bound, gagged, duct-taped securely to the chair.

“Who the hell is that?” Lugh asked.

“That, my dear angel, is Arthur Kent. He was the aide de' camp to the Prefect, and as I understand it from some of these other fellows, Niall's protege'. Apparently he had detected what I was attempting to do a few minutes ago on his monitor down on Zeta level and rushed up here with a couple of security guards. We were more than ready for that.”

“My dear friend Ulrich, I continue to underestimate your abilities.” Ga stated, grinning broadly. “This young man will provide us with the remaining pieces we need to solve the puzzle of Niall's plans. You have done extremely well, and when this is done, you will get the lion's share of the credit.”

“That is not why I'm here, Ga.” Ulrich replied. “I'm here because you needed me.”

Back down on Zeta level, Niall was taking one last opportunity to relax before a final briefing with his primary staff that will initiate the final steps of his plan. He was reflecting on how it had all come together in so short a period of time, well, relatively short, he thought and how ironic that the whole thing was based on an accident. It was 1999, the final stages of the underground complex in Denver were well underway, when some workmen had accidentally over-estimated the amount of explosives needed to clear some debris blocking the lower shaft where the backup nuclear reactor would be located in the very bottom of the complex. The hole they inadvertently created in the cavern wall led to a previously undetected cavern. Inside the cavern was a wealth of alien technology that had been lost to time for many millenia. The NWO, FEMA, and the others involved in the construction of the facility, knew what they had found, with the help of alien allies, and after many years of very covert work, the time-space portal or rift they had discovered was tested and was ready for use. Imagine, ancient alien technology, buried for thousands of years, that could control what was essentially a naturally-occuring wormhole to literally send matter or energy to any point in time or space. Even with alien help, they still only understood a fraction of what the equipment and the portal could do, but it was enough. The portal, though, was not without limitations, It could only be used during periods of specific planetary alignments. December of 2012 would have been the optimum time, as the planet and the whole solar system passed through the equator of the Milky Way. THAT was when it was all supposed to happen. THAT was supposed to have been the end of the world as it had been, but the upcoming alignment beginning in just a couple of days would be sufficient.

“That DAMNED intervention and those DAMNED angels and do-gooder aliens of the Federation... FUCK THEM ALL!” Niall raged aloud, even though he was still alone. Just then, a tone sounded from his communications panel, reminding him that the briefing was about to begin.

Niall strutted into the conference room where his staff had gathered. Looking around the room, he asked, “Where's Arthur?”

Wilhelm, Niall's chief engineer for this project, replied. “He said something about someone tampering with the systems on Epsilon level and went up to check it with a couple of guards. I told him we had sent a repair crew to dismantle an old ops center up there and it was probably nothing, but he wanted to check it himself.”

“Very well, we can begin without him, have you made the final preparations for the nerve agent for Alpha and Beta levels?”

“Yes, sir. Just awaiting the final order from you or Arthur.”

“Very well. Proceed as soon as Arthur returns.”

Just then Niall's communication device sounded ... it was an incoming call. He pressed the button on the wrist-watch apparatus and brought the monitor closer to his face so he could see and hear better. "It is Arthur!" he exclaimed. "I guess he got away from them. Hey Arthur! We were just talking about you. You are missing the meeting. Are you on your way down?"

The blank screen soon showed an image: it was Arthur, still bound to a chair and gagged, struggling against his constraints. Suddenly a familiar voice took over on the other end.

"Well, well ... if it isn't 'the Beast'! Having a cozy pow-wow? Heh, heh ... like you used to say back at the NSA Niall: 'shit happens!'"

"Lugh, you feathered piece of shit! I am gonna put you and your ostrich friends in a goddamned ca..."

"Whoa there!" interrupted Ga, who had grabbed the device from Lugh. "Stop that thought, and consider the odds my friend. By now you have figured out that we have not only captured Arthur and Ilya, but that Antonin and the Prefect are both dead. In addition ... what is that Ulrich? Ahhh, excellent ... in addition we NOW know where you are. 'Ifafi! Grab some men and make certain that ALL entrances and exits to and from the bottom level of this facility are SEALED OFF COMPLETELY! Err sorry, Niall ... I got a little involved in a couple of other conversations there. I did not mean to be rude. Now, where were we? Oh, yes ... now that we are on our way down there – in full force I might add – to wrap you up and send you, your men and your big R-buddies and the rest of the one government royalty to Zeta Reticuli for rehabilitation, you may as well indulge me by telling me the rest of your sordid plan. Arthur here seems to have learned some fancy mind control techniques that are slowing things down up here. We may have to resort to water-boarding or some of the other interrogation methods you and your people are so fond of. What do you say to that Arthur?"

Arthur struggles against his constraints, and sweat is pouring down his face which is red with rage.

"Well, it sounds like Arthur is about to crack, Lugh? What do you think? Should we give Niall a show? Perhaps we should end by gutting Arthur the way Niall had Wendell gut poor Sara."

Arthur was now hysterical, bucking back and forth and trying to scream through the gag.

"So, Niall ... or Ekbar. How is this going to go down? Are you going to tell me what your plan is and surrender with an semblance of grace and dignity, or will we have to hunt you down like a beast?"

"FUCK YOU! FUCK YOUR MOTHER! FUCK YOUR GOD! I WILL NEVER ... I REPEAT: I WILL NEVER SURRENDER TO A BIRD. I WILL BE EATING ANGEL SOUP BY MIDNIGHT TONIGHT!" exclaimed Niall.

Arthur's gag was torn off and Lugh pulled out a long knife ... the very one that Wendell had used on Sara, and showed it to Arthur. 'Ifafi then yelled out: "Okies. Bring him in!"

Niall and his men were now agitated. Niall did not really care what they did with Arthur, but he was afraid that Arthur would break down and talk. He barked into the communications device: "Put Arthur on the goddamned device!"

Ga answered: "Now, now Niall. No need to be 'beastly' and rude. Poor Arthur is busy at the moment. You see, he has just received a visitor ... actually a mutual friend of you both. Here Wendell, say 'hi' to the 'good doctor'!"

Wendell had a deranged look on his face, and Niall could understand why Arthur was now terrified. Wendell was literally foaming at the mouth and his eyes were bulging out of his head. "For chrisssakes man!" barked Niall. "Shoot the poor man and get it over with in a humane way at least. You will never put me in some damned ca..."

"Shhhhhhhh ...." interrupted Ga. "Calm down Niall. Wendell knows exactly how to do this. He is a 'pro' ... in fact, he needs a killing from time to time -- just like vampires need to feed on their prey, and like drug addicts need a fix. Show some compassion, Niall: Besides, when did you start believing in God and Christ?"

"Fuck you!" screamed Niall ... enraged by Ga's impudence. "When I get my hands on you Ga, I am gonna ..."

But just then Arthur's communication device went silent and blank. Niall looked at the others and merely said: "Well, it looks as if we need to press on. Follow me ... and dump all your communication devices NOW!"

And with that, they quickly left their improvised command center, scampered through the poorly-lighted tunnels ... quickly and as silently as possible. Niall had a pained look on his face. His foot was hurting from all the crazy running around the past few days, and he was not able to hide his limp.

Having left Ulrich and the twenty-seven trusted security force members to tend to matters elsewhere in the facility, Ga, 'Ifafi and Lugh prepared to descend onto the lowest level – that which had been rumored to house "the tunnel at the end of time". None of the three knew how the obscure lowest level had attained this ominous reputation, but all agreed that there was, in any case, no question that they would have to prepare themselves for extreme danger. Ga was deep in thought as the three angels blackened their faces and skin so that they easily would blend in with the darkness of the tunnels, and put on their grey-and-black camouflage protective combat gear. He was full of hidden emotion, while remembering how the NWO, the Illuminati, the Vatican, politicians, scientists, physicians, pharmaceutical companies, insurance companies and businessmen had all – together with governments – contributed to the "Big Deception". Sure, the Mayan calendar and other predictions were fairly accurate, but none actually forecast the "end of the world" – only the possible dire consequences of tumultuous planetary cycles. The power elite had attempted to make all aliens, angels, spiritual guardians on higher vibrational frequencies ... and even God himself ... into "bogeymen" – all pieces in a large puzzle designed to inspire a ubiquitous fear so that the privileged few could more easily control the world population, and thereafter also colonize other planets in our own galaxy and beyond. The truth was, that the laboratory-devised bio-pandemics, the falsely blaming of CO2 gas emissions (although not healthy for the planet) for global warming, the implantation of fear of evil aliens, and the disturbance of the continental plates by way of underground nuclear testing and numerous other failed experiments using stolen alien technology were the true cause of "Apocalypse" ... and a far greater threat than the natural challenges caused by changes in the Sun, which affected all planets in our solar system. And it was all for greed, power and control. Niall represented one of the final "threats to the Galactic Federation", of which Terra was now a part. He must be stopped at any cost. Ga took a deep breath and mumbled "Adonai" as he put on his shiny black radio helmet, and picked up his sword.

Lugh looked over at 'Ifafi who was buckling up his steel-toe combat boots, and watching Ga with both love, pride and concern. "Well, If ... it looks like this is finally IT ... the moment we have been preparing for. I figure we will kick Niall's ass all the way to Zeta Reticuli," he quipped.

'Ifafi slapped him on the back in a comradely fashion and replied: "You bet Luggie! It is not wise to piss off a bunch of angels. Normally our work is not supposed to be "personal", but after what they did to poor Sara ... "

"Yeah," agreed Lugh. "But we are not so mean. After all, we did spare the communications officer."

"He will surely get some comfortable prisoner job," said 'Ifafi. "The Zeta Reticulians need technical help rebuilding their communications network after the attack from Orion before the reconciliation. As long as he behaves, they will treat him well. Niall – on the other hand – is another story. The grey's have a real bone to pick with him for stabbing them in the back years ago during the Clinton administration. Mebbe he will commit suicide like Antonin did."

"He he ...," replied Lugh while glancing over at Ga who was flexing his sword in an agility test. "That ... or be killed while trying."

'Ifafi was staring at his beloved Ga (or «Mule» as he often called him when they were in private). Ga'ga (he never used his full angelic name – only Ga) was special in many ways, but even more so because he was a mixed breed ... a mulatto (a mule). Having incarnated onto Terra as a humanoid and assumed his angelic body and consciousness while still in his present incarnation made him highly-respected amongst his angel peers. This because he had literally «earned his wings» through consciousness evolution. No one ever doubted that Ga'ga always had been an angel, but for an angel to willingly incarnate as a humanoid for several lifetimes in order to re-gain one's wings was a true act of angelhood.

Although angels are «recycled» just as all other matter, angels' physical lives tended to be centuries long in most cases, and angelic souls in the repository on the «other side» were often used as seed material for new souls and healing material for trauma-stricken angels that had passed away. That made all angels «related» to one another and to all beings in the seven Universes (humanoid and otherwise).

Ga seemed unaware of his revered status, or perhaps that is because angels neither tend to boast nor to openly admire others. By the same token, angels do not differentiate between themselves and their brethren that took a different course «after the Fall» and came to be known as «Fallen Angels». Every angel has the potential and capability to be gentle and loving or severe and dark. No angels «hate», but some find their source of strength in the Light and others in Darkness – both being equally valid, as Divine energy is composed of both Light and Darkness. 'Ifafi never really understood how humanoids had managed to segregate good angels from so-called dark angels. He knew that he could be a nasty «muthafucka» when extremely provoked. It was not so much acts of provocation or hurtfulness that annoyed 'Ifafi but rather the «intention» to cause pain and separation for Divine unity. Like Niall and his cronies ...

But then again, there were many things that 'Ifafi did not understand about Terrans. Like for example confusing Jesus (or Sananda) with God; or perceiving God to be some sometimes ambivalent, sometimes surly, sometimes forgiving and sometimes downright mean old man in the sky ... Why do humanoids always look up into the sky when they talk to God? Do they truly not understand that God is all around them ... and that even they themselves are composed of Divine energy, which reproduces itself and evolves – thus making each humanoid «divine»? 'Ifafi had tried to discuss some of these questions with Ga, but he never showed much interest in cross-cultural angel-humanoid issues. It was as though Ga («mule») wanted to forget his humanoid past. He certainly embraced his angelhood fully enough, and knew his angel lore and history better than 'Ifafi himself did.

Ga had once (after lovemaking) asked 'Ifafi if he thought he might have fallen in love with him had he (Ga) still been humanoid. 'Ifafi had just laughed and said: «Of course!», but it did get him to thinking. Why had he ('Ifafi) not fallen in love with humanoids before ... and why did he not have the «hots» for Lugh or Lysiel, for example? Perhaps 'Ifafi was attracted to «mules»; just the way many humanoids and other galactic citizens are attracted to mixed breeds. There is, after all, a sense of both discovery of that which is different and self-discovery in such relationships. But then again, 'Ifafi and Ga had many angel friends that chose partners that were almost duplicates of themselves in terms of appearance, personality and personal styling. However, even identical angel twins could be told apart, as the most minute element of differing soul energy shines like an emerald in a bed of rubies.

And what about Lugh? thought 'Ifafi. He never talks about love affairs. 'Ifafi did not even know if he was sexual or asexual. Although some angels have their preferences, all angels are basically bisexual – but not all angels practice sex. And some only have sex occasionally with humanoids in order to procreate or to instill an angelic revelation in the partner. In such cases, the angel can assume whatever gender it chooses. I will have to have a private talk with Luggie about these things one day, thought 'Ifafi. He laughed to himself while remembering that Lugh did not even realize that he and Ga were a couple until recently. Some angels cannot see the heavens for the clouds, thought 'Ifafi to himself, this time laughing audibly.

«What's so funny?» asked Lugh, attracting the attention of Ga as well.

«Nothing,» replied 'Ifafi. «I just really love you guys!»

«Same here,» answered Lugh, and all three raised their right fists in an angelic sword salute exclaiming: «Adonai!»

«Well, I guess this is it.» said Ga. And looking at his two comrades he asked: «Are we ready?»

'Ifafi and Lugh nodded in accordance, and Ga replied: «Good. Let's do it! But remember, once we are on the lowest level we must only use the radio communication devices in our helmets for short, encrypted messages in emergency situations. Otherwise we must communicate telepathically.»

The two angels nodded, and they resolutely walked towards the unmarked door described to them by Arthur in their interrogation of him. When they reached the door they saw that there was a simple electronic combination lock on it. Ga looked at 'Ifafi and they both smiled knowingly. The wrong combination would set off an alarm, but the combination could be nothing other than the number of the Beast itself: 666. Ga took a deep breath and pressed the 6-button three times in rapid succession. A green light flashed on the lock device and they were in.

Ga was the first to cross over the threshhold, followed by Lugh and then 'Ifafi, who quietly closed the door behind them. He could sense heart palpitations from Lugh and gently but firmly put his right hand upon his left shoulder, and sent a consoling thought: «It will be just fine, my angel. Light always outshines the Darkness.» Lugh simply nodded as the three quietly began walking down the dimly-lit corridor in the direction of the room where they had earlier detected Niall's communication device. Not surprisingly, the room was empty and from the look of things the inhabitants had left somewhat in a hurry. 'Ifafi messaged Ga and Lugh telepathically: «They cannot be far off. I can smell Niall's body odor mixed with that cheap cologne he always uses.» Lugh had to control himself from releasing a snicker, which had just as much do with his nervousness as the humor in the remark.



Watch for the paperback version of this exciting tale - soon to be released by Cyberwit!


(photos no. 1, 4 and 5 by Adam Donaldson Powell; photos no. 2 and 3 by THEATRE OF CRUELTY/azSacra zaRathustra)

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