James: "Do you really think we're the ones chosen to defend the child?"
Dr. Seter: "I wouldn't have bought so many automatic weapons unless I did." A sigh. "I'm more worried that Alisa may be from the government than that she represents the Dark Mother."
James: "Then why show her anything?"
Dr. Seter. "As I said,it can cause no harm. She will not have time to translate the portions of the scripture we don't want her to translate. And she will find nothing in our center the government would be excited about."
James: "I hope you're right." A pause. "She is incredibly beautiful."
Dr. Seter: "I noticed."
I find their private conversation fascinating.
The center they have referred to is a large house in an area clearly zoned for both business and residential properties. There are many cars parked along the street as we pull up. Like Dr. Seter, I am surprised that James has directed the whole group here, especially when they have a lecture the following night in San Francisco. Yet James's intuitions about me are shockingly accurate. He wonders if the Dark Mother has sent me. How would he feel if he knew I am the Dark Mother's mother? I would have a hard time convincing him I'm on his side, not hers.
Yet the one thing I have learned by eavesdropping is that the Suzama Society is there to protect the child, not harm it. Still, the reference to automatic weapons disturbs me. It is true that they might come in handy shouldK alika show up, but I know guns in the hands of true believers seldom get pointed in the right direction at the right time.
What is the source of James's excellent intuition? Perhaps it is a result of following Suzama's meditation practices. I found his reference to reversed aging intriguing.Is James older than he looks? I remember Suzama's often saying that aging is a product of lower consciousness,and immortality the gift of highest consciousness.
Dr. Seter and James welcome me warmly as I climb from my car.
"Did you have a pleasant drive?"Seter asks.
"I listened to loud music the whole way," I say, gesturing to all the cars." Is there another lecture here tonight?"
Dr. Seter glances at James. "Many in our group have returned here to collect supplies for the remainder of my tour," the doctor explains. "I have to fly to the East Coast after my San Francisco lecture." He gestures to the house. "Please come in. Would you like some coffee?"
"Thank you,no. I am wide awake."
"That's right," James says, moving up behind us. "You're a night person."
Inside there are two dozen navy blue suits, half and half, pants and skirts, male and female, all young and attractive. I don't get the uniform thing,especially around Dr. Seter, who seems so laid back.Perhaps it is James's idea,although he seems far from a fanatic. The group studies me as I step into the huge house. The place is orderly, the furniture traditional, every corner clean and dust free. There is a faint odor of fried chicken in the air, mashed potatoes, and broccoli. They are not vegetarians, even though Suzama was.
Staring at the innocent faces, I wonder if they practice using their automatic weapons deep in the desert when no one is around. Simply to own an automatic weapon is to invite a felony charge, jail time. Dr. Seter must be convinced the enemy is at hand to go to such extremes. Of course, who am I to judge? He has not fed the enemy another person's blood in the middle of the night just to get her to stop crying.My dear daughtermy, how fast she grewand how strong.Shecankickmy assina fight. That,I know from experience.
The memory of Eric Hawkins,K alika's personal snack bar, is never far.
"Oh God,I'm bleeding! She's cut my neck! The blood is gushing out! Help me!"
But I could not help him. I was only able to use him.
A young woman about my apparent age steps forward to shake my hand. "My name is Lisa," she says."You're Alisa?"
"Yes."
"We hear you can read hieroglyphics?"
"Hieroglyphics and comic books have always been favorites of mine," I say. There is a murmur of laughter. "Where are you from, Lisa?"
"North Dakota.I met Dr. Seter there last year"
"Lisa is our accountant," Dr. Seter interrupts. "I call her boss."
The group laughs. They obviously love the man.
I am led down into a basement. Few homes in Southern California have basements, and this one is special,to say the least.As James closes the door behind us, I notice that it has a rubber seal all around it. Almost immediately I notice a change in the air pressure, and I understand why. They are worried about dust and dampness and the effect they would have on the scripture. The air in the basement is carefully filtered.
Six of the group have followed me into the basement, including James and Dr. Seter. A young man named Charles steps to a vault at the far end of the basement. In the center of the room is a large white table with brilliant overhead lights and a double ocular over-size microscope at one end. There are also a couple of magnifying glasses and loupes sitting handily by. Charles spins the steel knob on the vault,dialing the combination. His body is between me and the knob but I listen closely and in a moment I know the combination, R48, L32, R16, L17, R12, L10.
The vault pops open. Charles lifts out a pale yellow sheet of papyrus wrapped in acid-free tissue paper and carries it to the table to set down under the bright lights. The scripture is a foot across, two feet long.A rush of excitement makes my heart pound. Even through the covering tissue paper, I smell ancient Egypt!
I recognize the hieratic writing.
It is tiny, carefully crafted.
It is definitely in Suzama's cursive.
Dr. Seter gestures for me to examine it closer after he lifts off the tissue paper.
As I bend over the table, he has no idea I am about to read it much faster than he would read a large-print book. Yet James stands close beside me, his eyes on mine.
I begin to read.
I am Suzamaand my words are true. The past and the future are the same to my illumined vision. You who read these words are warned not to doubt what is recorded lest you fall into error and lose your way on the path.I am Suzama and I speak for the truth.
The lord of creation is both inside and outside creation. He is like the sap in the flower, the space in an empty room. He is always present but unseen. Hisjoy shines like thesun in thesky, his will swims like afish beneath the ocean.He cannot be known by the mind or even the heart. Only the inner silence recognizes him.