Yal-hune sits in one of my vintage Ekornes 'stressless' chairs made in Norway about 20 years ago with beautiful bentwood. Her pink hued skin contrasts and complements the honey colored wood. I switch off the tape recorder.
"I still have much more to share. Why don't you want to continue?"
"This will be enough to transcribe. I'm going to blog it. We're going public."
She reaches into my mind with hers and sees what I am planning. She delicately - gracefully even - pulls each thought train and reviews it.
"You know certain people at the agency will read your blog and you're contacting those within the agency that you can trust. And you feel the public exposure will put the rogue elements of the agency in an awkward position as you leak information to the world."
"Something like that...well exactly like that. I can't really hide it from you, now can I?"
"No, you can't. Why all the clandestine stuff? Why not just let me go to the UN Headquarters and request to address the General Assembly? Or visit your President Barack Obama at the White House? Surely he will not judge me because the color of my skin?"
"Use your abilities Yal-hune. Probe what chatter is going on about you. Probe the phones and the cell signals, the President, or a top flunky, is probably aware of your presence and I wouldn't be surprised if he has already signed off on an Executive Order authorizing extraction teams to assault Shamballa. I know the way this game is played. You and your abilities are the wild card they have to take into consideration. Our government has..."
"I know all about the agreements made with various extraterrestrial beings. Those worlds had no authority to attempt to browbeat the Earth governments into keeping man no further than low Earth orbit. We have intercepted many ships that emerge in your solar system with negative intent."
"Yes. We have probes positioned throughout your solar system which track the coming and going of all spacecraft and the beings within. They are very advanced and can even scan the occupants consciousness for negative intent. Quarantined systems, such as yours, are protected in this manner. Only craft with legitimate scientific and positive intent are permitted to remain."
"Fascinating. So what about those grays? How did they get through?"
"Synthetic beings have no real consciousness. They are more machine than being and so they have no real emotions to scan. Some of these have gotten through, but our probes are becoming ever more sophisticated and many of these craft are turned back without incident."
"Okay let me transcribe and blog this stuff."
"Would you like me to?"
"Faster than you, don't forget I have watched you type on the viewer."
I probe her mind as best as I can. My own limited abilities permit me to clumsily review her thoughts. I see her standing before a giant view screen. She is on her world and watching me as a child. I keep forgetting she has seen me grow up on their viewing system and that she truly does know me better than almost anyone else. I feel her in my mind now. She is bringing to the surface a memory long since vanished - the first time I hit the keys on an old Underwood portable typewriter. I must be two years old. I can feel the keys fight my little fingers.
"Humans forget so much of their lives. It's as if after a few weeks they become new people, detached somewhat from what has come before."
"How much of your 798 years do you recall?"
"Almost all of it. Our brains are developed and we can tap all these memories quite easily."
"Even with so much time under your belt? 300 years ago seems like it would be an impossible thing to recall."
"It's all relative. When one lives as long as we do, one's mind views time quite differently."
She gets up from the chair and sits in front of my laptop. She starts keying in the transcript.
"Wait let me rewind the tape!"
"That is not necessary. I remember word for word what was said."
Before my eyes her fingers flash as though she is some super-secretary, gracefully depressing keys in a blur and the light clicking sound of the keys almost seems melodic as she hits them.
"Break it into several parts. Otherwise it might be a bit too overwhelming."
She is in my mind again and her mind is joining with mind and my ideas and hers are merging and taking greater form. She understands what I wanted to do and she has not once looked away from the screen as she types. I think of the shared oscillation and she gives me a mental peck on the cheek with her mind, all without slowing down a bit on the keys. It feels so real I can still feel my cheek tingle.
"It is real. As real as if I got up, walked over and kissed you."
"How can that be?"
"Your mind is you! If your mind does something - you do something! The power of the mind is very real. On our world, no one is really ever apart as they can interact even over the greatest distances, particularly when the parties know each the other well. Our minds are much more developed and we understand this and use them responsibly. The closer they know each other the easier it is for them to interact as if no space or time barriers existed between them. Humanity commits all sorts of 'evils' in their mind and feel they are absolved of responsibility because they did 'not really' do or say something - they 'only thought' it. This must and will change. Humanity will realize that thoughts will either build a stairway to the stars or dig a tunnel into the lower realms."
Yal-hune smiles. "When people read this they will be inspired and motivated. I am putting a little something extra in this blog, something they will be able to walk away with after they read it."
"Remember when I shared with you what our world looks like? Well impregnated into these posts are tiny subharmonic wave forms generated by my mind. After reading these words, the images will be encoded into the readers consciousness for them to decipher. Not just images and feelings, but also a little spark that will help them process this data and positively activate some of the unused portions of the brain."
"You know what you're doing with that? We don't want mobs of people shouting, 'We want the Extraterrrestrial!' appearing over the web. That might be too much."
She smiles. She reminds me in my mind that she accessed my blog without asking for the password or user id.
"You do know exactly what you are doing don't you? There's a bigger plan here isn't there? Something you are not telling me!"
She smiles again. And her lovely, absolutely beatific countenance is overwhelming me. Suddenly, everything is completely right with the world - even when its so obviously messed up. Her love is powerful and I wonder how the world will react to it...and her.
(End Part 4)