by John W. Steele
Table of Contents|
parts: 1, 2, 3
The Indian set his jaw firm and blessed himself. Again he raised his arm, and then plunged his hand inside the basket.
A sensation like the segmented trunk of a giant centipede clawed his naked palm. Juan grasped the cockle and raised it from the creel. The object twisted in his hand and a maddening bolt of energy surged up his arm. With great revulsion Juan shook his hand and the creature fell to the desktop where it landed with a brittle clatter.
Adames lowered his head and placed his hand to his heart. “It is finished; the terror is contained for a season. He sighed and rubbed his brow. “But alas, all in the realm of matter is little but folly.”
Before them stood a scorpion, a creature so perfect Juan had never envisioned anything so magnificent. Its colorations were mesmerizing, and Juan had never imagined hues so vibrant and alive.
The creature gleamed as if made of crystal. Light flowed from its core, illuminating its shell with pins of radiant energy. It walked on tiny crystalline legs that tapped on the desktop. The scorpion darted a sparkling stinger and kneaded its lustrous emerald pincers.
Juan stared at the tiny animal and a rainbow of light danced on his face. “Never have I envisioned a creature such as this! Surely it is composed of pure energy!” he cried.
“The Divine universe thrives with splendor,” Adames said. “All things in the realm of matter are but shoddy and inferior replicas of what lies beyond the veil. This astral scorpion has been placed in my charge, and through my will it can exist in this physical dimension. No evil thing can dwell in the Divine creation. You are of the Light. and the creature will not harm you.”
“Then what is its purpose here?” Juan asked.
“The scorpion is a symbol of authority. That is why it holds a constellation in the cosmos. Unlike its shadow on this earth, this creature harbors no venom in its sting, but that does not mean it is not formidable.”
“I do not understand, Don Adames.”
“This lowly creation serves a great purpose, my brother. It stalks and destroys the Chapucabras.”
“How can that be so?” Juan said. “Despite its glory, how is it a creature so insignificant can defy the power of the Lizard men?”
The angel laid his hand on the desktop, and the scorpion climbed up in his palm. “The Chapucabras cannot see the Scorpion. It lurks in darkness and senses the cold energies the Lizard men contain. When it strikes, it draws recycled energy from the victim.
“In time great sores appear on the body of the Chapucabra and it grows emaciated and dies. With every new burst of cold energy the scorpion produces a clone. Our Light Warriors are stationed throughout the globe, and in time, the scorpions will cover the earth and destroy the evil invaders.”
Genaro raised his arms and touched his hands together in a gesture of humility. “What must I do?”
“The most difficult trials of your task are behind you, Warrior. You survived the evil that marked you for woe and decimation from the day of your birth. You stayed the course and honored your vow. Now you must deliver the scorpion to your village.
“In three days, the full moon will reach its zenith. At that time, you will release the force in the cave on the sacred mountain. In doing so, you will have completed your mission, and your emancipation from the dimension of matter will be swift.”
Tears formed in Genaro eyes and he wiped them away with his bandanna.
“Why do you weep, my brother?” Adames asked.
“These are tears of joy, Don Adames. Long have I struggled and soon I shall return to the pure land. How is it by this simple act I will regain my freedom?”
Julian smiled and his eyes sparkled like stars. “You possess the courage to reach into the basket.” Adames laid the scorpion in the creel and secured the lid.
Juan stood up and placed the basket beneath his arm. He bowed respectfully and when he looked again, Adames was gone. A dull plaster wall now filled the alcove where the candelabra had been. He gazed at the chalice and laughed.
* * *
In the quiet moonlight at the mouth of the ancient cavern he stood. He placed the basket on the carpet of sand and removed the lid. The crystalline force climbed from inside, its body aglow like a green neon transparency. Then the tiny light faded, and like a shadow flowed into darkness.
That same night a marvel occurred. A golden meteor soared through the sky, its surreal glow vivid and glorious over the face of the desert. The morning broke clear and magnificent, and Juan was never seen again.
* * *
Gradually, like some deflating gaseous phantasm, the pillar of flame began to fade. Within months the ship lost its dazzling luminosity. It no longer collapsed upon itself and its chromed hull transformed to a tarnished shade of pewter. The monolith wavered in the heavens and its orbit grew erratic. A short time later the spectacle imploded. One morning the world awakened, and the pillar of fire had disappeared.
At the departure of the colossal energy field the world rejoiced. The political establishment proclaimed a psychological victory over the alien invaders and quickly tripled the defense budget. The evangelists praised the God of this world and asserted that the power of their prayers had delivered mankind from the evil thing. With great zeal they resumed their litany extolling the glorious life everlasting inside the physical dimension.
National ego emerged more powerful than ever, each nation lauding their superior contribution to the eradication of the alien threat. The media resumed its assault on liberty, and once again the world divided in a psychotic crusade against nefarious hidden enemies.
In time, the kings of the earth rebooted the war machine. Its gears screeched and the soot and fume of greed, fear, and hatred billowed from its abysmal smokestack. The flames of terrestrial paranoia exploded in its afterburners and scorched to ashes the temple of reason. Like fallen gods, the great men, the nucular men, the impermanent men, declared a final assault on evil.
Peace evaporated, and the sky grew black as sackcloth. The oceans turned to blood, and the earth trembled until the living envied the dead.
In the dawning of the new Age of Aquarius, at the nadir of her first decade, the rulers of the earth accomplished what the Lizard men could not, thus fulfilling the ancient prophecy foretold by sages, and shamans, and prophets who understood the origin of matter chronicled in the hidden knowledge of the distant past.
Copyright © 2012 by John W. Steele