My life is exceedingly abnormal for a human.
Here in Shamballa, normalcy is the state of abnormal. Most of the time I wish I had five or six bodies. There simply is not enough ME to go around for the half dozen projects going on at any time. I feel somewhat guilty if I spend too much time on one project and will consciously disrupt my efforts to spend more time on others. Multitasking is one thing, but mentally sometimes I feel like my consciousness is being drawn and quartered.
I am relieved that briefing ODIN went well. A number of new EXORs have come down as a result of this and this world will never be viewed the same way for me and for dozens of others inside this particular compartment.
My buzzer goes off and I remember my appointment with the Chief Scientist working on MIMIR. I take an elevator to the surface. A plane I knew existed but never seen was about to land. Project MIMIR has unlimited budgeting, although practically it amounts to perhaps a billion dollars a year, if necessary.
The plane is huge and looks like two boomerangs joined at both ends, forming a hollow trapezoid structure. It is painted sky blue to avoid attracting too much attention. I see no turbofans and hear no engines of any sort. It lands effortlessly, like a feather using a VTOL style landing. A stairwell descends and for all the world I get the feeling the designers deliberately knocked it off of the spaceship in The Day the Earth Stood Still.
A figure descends in a metallic suit and helmet. I assume this is the Chief Scientist. I walk over to greet him.
"Welcome to Shamballa. That's a very interesting craft."
The Chief Scientist stops and removes the helmet. A rivulet of auburn curls descend and frame a face that is all hazel-brown eyes and porcelain skin.
The Chief Scientist of Project MIMIR is a woman. And not just any woman, an extraordinarily beautiful woman.
"Yes, it is my own design and uses electromagnetic pulse propulsion. My name is Shayla. You are SDAI-Tech1?"
"Yes. I oversee this facility. We have much to brief each other on."
"Indeed. I hear you made a most stimulating discovery in a cavern?"
"Probing the depths for treasures is just one of the things we do well here. However, of the accomplishments and technologies Project MIMIR has generated of which I am aware, I must say I have always been quite impressed."
"Thank you. We have been very fortunate to take in some of the best and most talented and let them loose on projects far beyond the conventional. Sometimes things have just dropped in our laps."
"Let us go down below, where we can converse more freely."
"Lead the way."
No one ever told me the Chief Scientist for MIMIR was a woman. MIMIR is one of the most classified projects and deals with extraterrestrial technology, time travel and has oversight for all things alien. There is something about her I can't quite put my finger on. Her auburn hair or her skin - or both. Something "realer" than real. Something that makes her glow somewhat from within.
We reach my office and I offer her a chair. She seems about 5'10 and now that I look at her eyes closer I see they are abnormally large, about 5% larger than normal I would estimate. And her skin has a vivid peach complexion and glow. Looks almost like a fake tan from a bottle or spray booth. Her iris is unusual, a pattern and cell structure unlike any iris I have ever seen. Suddenly it hits me all at once - this woman is not human!
"So which planet are you from?"
"I am afraid that is classified information. Congratulations though, as you are the fastest human yet to recognize the disparity. The eyes right?"
"Yes. The iris is most exceptional. Almost appears like a spira mirabilis pattern."
"I have contacts which I wear almost all the time. If we are going to work together, I wanted to see how perceptive you are. I accessed your file and I see you have telepathic experience."
Suddenly, I realize she has higher classification than my own. Which is rather startling. My file had been sealed and removed from almost all systems at the agency, or so I thought. I immediately sense her mind probe my own fundamental frequency and so I set up a clear area to converse in.
"So how developed are your telepathic abilities? Your file was missing several sections and only the overview remained."
"My abilities are nothing too spectacular. I can converse at a distance with folks known to me and folks unknown as long as I have a picture or other source to identify their fundamental frequency."
"Very good. That will make our working together much easier. Once one has shared mind with someone, one can tell exactly who they are and who they've been."
"Yes, mindsharing is indeed far more efficient than verbal conversing and there is not the same ability for deception."
"That's not entirely true. Deception is still capable of being performed and can be successfully employed if the minds are not of equal development."
This of course distresses me, because I know she comes from a world where such development makes my own appear rudimentary - like the speaking skills of a 4th grader next to a world class public orator. I don't get much chance to practice and the very few in the agency who do use telepathy are not much more developed as I am, if that.
"You need not fear that I will deceive you, and as a matter of fact I bring this up because I want to assist you in developing your own abilities."
"Something like a telepathy tutor?"
"Yes. Exactly. From this moment on, I want our communications to be entirely non-verbal unless we need to converse normally for others benefit. Is that acceptable?"
"Sure. I'll do what I can. I'll tell you upfront however, that I may not detect certain thoughts when I am busy. Physical activity and stress significantly lower my perception limits."
"That is what we will work on. I want you to have just as good detection and communication abilities as I do. In the future, we will be dealing with other races who are predatory telepaths. They will try and reach into your mind and extract secrets and knowledge from you and they will do so clandestinely, often forcing you to address two thoughts at a time or interjecting a thought and posing it as your own."
"Posing it as your own?"
"Yes. Like this."
"I wonder what she looks like naked.'"
"Hey, I didn't think that!"
"Yes, I know. I planted it there. You recognized it was not your own thought, but you would be surprised how many folks immediately accept suggestive thought projection or STP"
Suddenly I find myself wondering just how she would look naked and if she has any anatomical disparities underneath the suit. I cringe at this lower thought train that now interferes with my other thoughts and feel guilty for continuing the example.
"That is exactly why STP is so destructive. It is great for distracting someone and getting them feeling insecure or emotionally imbalanced. On my world, such thought projection is a criminal misdemeanor."
I suddenly realize the sheer scope of MIMIR and wonder how many aliens are working for the agency in this capacity. I am also concerned about these predatory telepaths she mentions. Folks like that on the Earth would be a disaster, a clear threat to national security.
"I want you to brief me on what happened in Iran. Just think about what happened. You need not linger on anything, I will pick it all up."
I proceed to relive the journey in my mind, the landing, the camels and the individuals we dealt with. At last I am again in the "flame room" and as I reach out into the flame with my hand I feel her mind and her hand within mine. Suddenly as the images race through, they have more meaning, I know this world of which the builders originated and I understand that this flame is indestructible energy.
At the same time, my mind drifts into her own thoughts and I see she has seen other rooms like this and that one exists on her home world. I probe that line of thought further and see an agency on her world that assigned her to Earth. Then I encounter a rather shocking and forceful mental barrier.
"You must learn to control your thoughts, unwelcome probes of the mind are tantamount to rape. If we are going to work together you must respect the subharmonic markers that clearly tell you what thoughts are accessible and which are off limits. I will excuse you this once because you are still an amateur, but do not let it happen again!"
I feel chastised and humble. Yet a part of me is very glad nevertheless. That is the first confirmation I have ever received that other worlds are working alongside our government in a knowing capacity. Then I feel guilty again for having betrayed her trust.
Her mind feels good. Very good. And very familiar. I feel guilty about that too and get busy setting up mental shields and markers of my own. I realize that my life, from this moment on, will never be the same.