Season 5 Shepherd s Apprentice

SEASON 5: SHEPHERD’S APPRENTICE
    {HERE COMES MY MARTYRDOM!}


“Pain comes
when you claim something
that was never yours.
God will give you yours,
and He will help you
know the difference.”

Commander Uri Kumlatov to James Kellspell, right before banishing Henry Carlton from the set of Emerald Filament and suspending James from school.


Lierance Triage: Alpha B Omega


                “Only the strongest of trees
                went into building
                of the Noah’s Ark.”

                Commander Uri Kumlatov
                about apprentice training


                “Only the strangest of nuts
                went into my basket.”

                James Kellspell, to himself,
               going over dossiers of his mates




PREVIOUS SEASONS:

SEASON 1 
“Shadows and Smoke.
My Consolation”
By Samuel Of Salem19
Genesis17

SEASON 2
“Hills Of Metal.
I Needed Him To Love Me”
By Samuel Of Salem19
Genesis17

SEASON 3
“Beautiful Prisoner.
Daffodil Of Hammersmith”
By Samuel Of Salem19
Genesis17

SEASON 4
“Emerald Filament.
loyalty. Honor. Service.”
By Sheba Of Salem20
Genesis17

SEASON 5
“Shepherd’s Apprentice.
Faith. Love. Unity.”
By Wallace “Sam” Smith20
Malachite Constellation
Genesis 17

SEASON 6
“My Vestal Virgin.
The World Is Getting Smaller.”
By Wallace “Sam” Smith21




WWWWWWWWWWWWWWW8LS2021

Quotes... Sheba suggested I have this section in the narration. Sometimes she’d scan Jim’s lectures for weird and profound stuff you’d find nowhere else. I do not even need to do that. All I need to do is sit and listen to him and those around him. Here we go.

“Money can help you protect your body from cold, and your stomach from hunger.
But only God can protect your heart from fear, your soul from pain, and your brain from confusion.”

Commander Uri Kumlatov, in a scathing lecture about the Grehedis he hates so much. He is unbalanced, yes. But can you blame him? He is a survivor of a genocide.


“Blue ksill helps you make the right choice. It is the positive choice.”

James Kellspell, basically, about his addiction (what is it, really?)


“Your loyalty to your Alpha is your
ONLY insurance against pain, caused by your own stupidity in believing that you can control your life and your destiny.”

Tia Demetra to James Kellspell. Cautionary tale. This woman can think clearly. James loved her for that quote.


“Come closer, stay quiet, don’t spin.
Don’t let the machine in.”


“I mashini zlie bredni
Ne isportyat nam obedni!”

“Now I know that fear is the avenue only idiots might take, I am determined never to be pushed by the machine down that path again.”

James Kellspell. While bleeding in my arms. My goodness, you might think that we are nothing but literary dumpster divers, one worn out cliche at a time, but my mate had nose bleeds every day for a week! NOW we know - that week he bled for Jaguar.


“Svet tvoih ochei na tisachu svechei!”

James Kellspell to Lord Henry Carlton


“Yes, well, but Darler only and ever wanted to reach for people’s hearts, and not for their pockets!”

James Kellspell about his Initial Omega


“Henry taught me the difference between gain and drain. He only reinforced the type of my behaviour that brought him gain. The rest will drain your karmic account, he said, and you will have less for me. So it is your choice, he used to tell me. A genius, he is, my Henry.”

A twisted, hurt fuck he is, our Henry. And we want no other.


“Do not be ashamed of your pain. Tell me everything.”

Richard Rockford to James Kellspell, going back to Jim’s shooting incident (when James shot at the photograph of one of his more successful colleagues)

“Do not be ashamed of your shame! Tell me what you think I need to know.”

James Kellspell to Richard Rockford after Rockford admitted to giving James drugs and raping him in his female avatar.


“Sobriety is the easiest thing to fix.”

Tia Demetra. I swear this woman is the walking Bible of wisdom.


“And please tell Melekh, what the machine says to hurt the Child of God. All blatant lies, the worst of them are “You are worthless in God’s eyes”, and “Father is mad at you”! The last one is THE MOST PAINFUL, when you are below the water line, not hearing Father, therefore under the control of the stupid machine… We need disarming arguments against these two at the very least, to supply them to those currently tormented by the ego.”

James to Prince Moretr, after yet another controlled submersion/falling asleep “under the control of the ego” to bring back intel on what wrongful indoctrination of the Child Of God is going on in the “torture chamber of the ego”.


“Covenant means that we will stay TOGETHER. Not that we will stay THE SAME. And the first is not contingent upon the second.”

Henry to James, explaining how their relationship works.


“I come to You clean,
Without the machine.”

James to Prince Moretr


“Tell me, what is an Alpha, Wallace? Right, one thing about them - their torment is directed OUTWARDS. What is an omega?”
(Right or wrong - he does not let me answer, just using me as a prop while talking to himself :) He can do this for hours.
“Their torment is directed INWARDS?” I extrapolate with caution.
“Yes!” James nods readily. “Therefore, my love, the only difference between an Alpha and an omega is their VECTOR!”

Just one of our random morning convos, leading to the inevitable conclusion that if you are in the “Escaping Proximity” vector, no matter what you do - you WILL BE in pain.


“If you can’t avoid it, you have to prepare for it. Wallace, don’t quote me on that!”
“Why?” I can barely raise my eyes, he is so bright, so energetic, so full of power.
“Because someone else said it before me, I’m sure.”


“Will you ever look at me as something more than a pretty ass, James?!”

James, pushing Henry against the bed with his groin, although both are still dressed: “Of course, in the light of the latest events I came to see you as a loyal royalist. Or, Royal loyalist. Whichever one you prefer or can handle better.”


Jim’s advice on politics (wearing a “stars only” neck mask): “Yes, gentlemen, thank you, there is no need to film this, for the love of God. What was your question? Why are there “stars only” on my mask? Because this is how much politics I can handle at the moment. Not even half of it, yeah. What? Am I a complete political jelly fish? Ha-ha, you’re funny. Let me tell you, I support quite a bit. Can jellyfish do that? Yeah! But here is what you do with your own scale of political involvement: When choosing a platform, don’t go too far, or too right. Don’t go too left, either. Stay safely in the middle. Make your waves only to lift something of value. SUPPORT CHARITIES. Human rights, animal rights, environmental issues. Here is your chance to participate in politics without creating more conflict.”


“And WHAT have you learned from everything I told you?

“When they say “I feel like queen”
What exactly do they mean?”

Jaguar questions Jim.
Jim turns on the poem-weaving app. :)


“Lady Anne is like a violin that longs to be played. All you need to do is touch her strings lightly, and she will sing the sweetest, the slightest of songs”

James, after his breakdown about the Lost Man, remorseful about what he had done.


“I want to be your First, James!”
“You ARE my thirst, Henry! The unquenchable kind!”

Oh, obviously, our star-crossed lovers reinforcing their bond in every conversation, every glance, every touch.



Orthotropic deck for illusion panels
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THE SHEPHERD’S APPRENTICE
Under Carlton-Kellspell River Sigil, and...


You HAVE TO TAKE AT LEAST 2. Breaths an hour off the right tank


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THE SHEPHERD’S APPRENTICE
Under Carlton-Kellspell River Sigil, and...





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THE SHEPHERD’S APPRENTICE
Under Carlton-Kellspell River Sigil, and...


Chapter 131 (from 119) We Will Pass Unnoticed



“A chore is task performed without love
The Love is only given from Above.”



Cast:
James Kellspell, the Regent of MEOL
(Says here we secured the planet. We haven’t secured squat yet)
Of Levin Corporation: Lady Lion (Tia Demetra)

Under the aegis of Jaguar & Tigress

Lord Henry Carlton, Reg. J.Kellspell’s First Omega
Mr. Wallace Smith as Reg. J.Kellspell’s Personal Arkchil Operator
(And Jim’s third omega. Let’s see, it’s Henry(Krotkie), then me, yeah, third)

Mr. Richard Rockford as Reg. J.Kellspell press secretary
(He would have been Reg. J.Kellspell’s Alpha, had he not fallen from Grace)

Mr. Kyle Merritt, Lord Henry Carlton’s First Omega
St. Lady Anne (Jim cries every day with joy, she is the first one to achieve martyrdom in his team)
Mr. Isaak Milgram (drinking and eating pizza upstairs until Jim tells him why innocents suffered)
H.M., Jim’s underage son (too young to know better)
Mr. Leonard Rubinstein (wanting nothing for himself, but Krista)

With support of: Deborra and Hugh Michael Family Foundation




Chapter 131:

YOUR CORRECT CONTROL PANEL SETTINGS:

@   Set up signal for “RECEIVING” (FROM FATHER)
This is the MOST IMPORTANT wire that got silenced by the machine’s INCORRECT ADVICE (it discredits Father in your eyes, thus preventing you from exercising the “LISTENING MUSCLE”)

@    Pull up Loyalty-Honor-Service bridgeplate:

@  FLUSH the ego-messages from the transparent tube to your right.
DO NOT READ THEM.
MORNINGS ARE TOUGH because you wake up to a whole bunch of NEGATIVE MESSAGES ABOUT YOUR LIFE that got generated overnight by the Stupid, using YOUR INTENTIONALLY TWISTED PROTOCOLS - the machine uses it to weave 10% truth into 90% poisonous lies.
You read and absorb that - you just screwed your little head for the whole day.

@  Make sure you set “BROADCASTING”
to “only three words at a time”,
3-6 breaths before you give any answer
THIS WILL PREVENT ANY ARGUMENT THAT THE EGO WILL PUSH YOU TO HAVE.
The ego orders you to defend stuff verbally - you tell it you are not allowed enough words.
Peace instead of hot water




If you PRACTICE Love
You will receive Love
If you practice poison,
You will receive poison.
(Keep the right tank CLEAR at all times,
maintain 60 mph wind speed there at all times)


I  am not a “separate critter” (THIS DISTORTION IS THE CAUSE OF ALL PAIN).

I am my Father’s Tool. (THIS means I need not worry about physical issues ever again - He takes care of that).


Suffering is a job and a Gift (it is only temporary)



“This is what you gave me:
The Golden Staircase to Heaven, step by step (grips to the clock):
(The base of namaz is rakaat/five fards)

57: Service file (science)
00: Service
15:
27: Service file (science)
30: Service
40:
45:
57:
00:

OK, but what do I put at “40 mins” to make myself feel HAPPY? Needed? Wanted? Sought after? What do I see, listen to? How does this grip help me not get flushed away by the incorrect reasoning?”

From Jim’s convo with Moretr on how to avoid psychotic attacks. We are working on that.









                SAFETY TIME NET

(How To Break Out Of The “Ego-Bubble”, in which it has power over My Child. Once you break out - you no longer need to be unhappy. Unhappiness is only INSIDE of the Bubble. The bubble is surrounded by Me - giving Light, Love, happiness)



It depends on WHERE you fall (as you are collapsing out of control into the net - the point of entry into the Net:

Supposedly, you fell at

33

NOW, you are IN.
Next segment: How much of tat time can you dedicate to communicate with Me?

For example, you can give me 2 minutes (I can see that based on data collected during the last 14 moons.

Here is our conversation during those two minutes:

* Make sure to extend your care outside of your “bubble”: H.M. wellbeing




It also depends on WHERE you fall in terms of the LifeLine:

57: Service file (science)
00: Service
15:
27: Service file (science)
30: Service
40:
45:
57:
00:


For example, between 30 and 40 -
Supposedly, we just had a connection 27-30




It depends on WHY you fell: For example, due to

Fear - Health
Annoyance - Impatience




Eventually, we are going to capture you within the 3D model, and help you resist the Negative Protocol Impact - this is what happens, this is what causes your fall -

You short-circuit, like this:

The machine says stuff all the time.

But, suddenly, you LISTEN to it.




NOW, on how to get out from Level 2 to Level 1 when you’d rather die than take another step on Level 1?
;Supposedly, it is 47, you know that you need to meet Me 57 at the latest, but you’d rather play…

 (in other words, you LOCKED YOURSELF IN THE BUBBLE to be alone, without Me - all cool, but if you do not get a breath of fresh air OUTSIDE TE BUBBLE (communication with Me at given intervals in the Net) then you will run out of My Grace, and it will no longer be “good times in the bubble”, as you know so well.)

As you read this, you just shifted to 50, and I can see you so very clearly - being a helpless puppet of ego’s logic: play it all! Spend it all! You’e got it - SPEND IT, WASTE IT, GO THROUGH IT! Why? Because it is all. You will ever have, God is coming to get it back - and if you do not spend it - He will take it back! Hurry! Run as fast as you can - spend as much as you can!)

Anyway, hon, you shift to 52 inexorably. You WANT to come back - but you can’t overcome the machines logic. This is where you are stuck - in that logic. How do you get unstuck?

“Henry!” James exhaled.

Moretr nods and raises his brows.

“Copy H.M.!” James adds, brightening up. He really wants to pass all tests, so he could pull ALL of us together. But Henry? He will always be Number One.

James watches himself shifting.

“56, James. You have one unit left to meet me in time, and your Oculum’s attention was shifted by the machine to knock you off balance - you are reading an email from the British Project that the ego is translating to you as: “I can’t believe I let H.M. feed me rotten intel about the Lost Man, based on which I had a fit, made myself look like an idiot infant of EVERYONE, including the British Project managers, and now only time will heal my wound over this. What I should have done is NOTHING after I got fed the rotten intel about Lost Man owning Sky. But I had to get in front of the British Project and make myself look like the fucked-up psycho that I am. Yes, this incident will be forgotten just like everything else, but fuck this a thousand times, Right now I feel like crap.”

And it is 00.

James failed to get out of the sticky net of ego-thinking in time.
He did not start the 57 protocol of proper Service.

00, the Ritual is upon us.

Jim makes a gargantuan effort and literally pushes his body in the back onto Level 1.

“This is what I see.” Moretr runs his hand with grotesquely elongated fingers across the 3D chart of Jim’s movement within the matrix. “You HAD the LHS Green Lierance Triage Bridgeplate, but you did not use it - due too investment into the incorrect protocol - belief that the illusion is real - you believe that the British Project is real, when it is not. The machine did not ALLOW you to use the life-saving embedded LHS (Loyalty_Honor_Service) until you answered it why you were in so much pain - you said - because I was an idiot to have bought rotten intel, AND make a move based on that, making myself look even more stupid.”

“Yeah!” Jim sank right away. “They did not appreciate my hysteria.”

‘THEY” do not exist, James.” Moretr brought his hand over Jim’s representation in the matrix. “Why are you scared?”

“Oh…” James sighs.

“I apologize. That sounded cold. Leave it to a Grehedi. Rather, please use LHS Lierance Triage Bridgeplate to elevate yourself over the vapour of the poison (there will be a better way to explain that gray zone where you can be influenced by the machine).

“Got it!” James nods.

I watch his thought process influencing him both in Moretr’s matrix action simulation and on our united channel. His mind races with incredible speed. DeVo is obvious


“My sweet Henry


“If you’re “in the bubble” - then wait for trouble”, How’s that, James? Once you realise you got dragged back into the bubble (YOU FELL ASLEEP ON A DEEPER LEVEL) - you cut yourself loose and fall into the Safety Net, OR you will be THROWN by an event that the ego will translate for you incorrectly. The reason you fall out of control is because you take poison based on the rotten intel. I apologise, James, there was no other way to wake you up. If the British Project Fall was the only one, it would have been easier for me. But I’m in tremendous amount of pain, my love. I have to wear it like a crown, and you are my only hope. You are the only one who managed to wake up just about fully while under the influence of poison, in the middle of River Styx.


Level 1, H.M. comes in.

Jim is forced to switch his Oculum’s attention.

“Al bought eggs at the Doglar Store, and three out of the pack were rotten or so something. Just wanted to let you know about this new Dollar Store in town. And Fredericks get benefitted every time you buy stuff there!”

James, to H.M.: “Thank you, hon! I’d rather us buy eggs with Fransis, anyway!”

James, to himself (ordering “his” ego): Dismiss the info entry based on two protocols:
A - I did not ask his opinion about the Dollar Store
B - HERESAY! “It happened to Al, who said it to H.M.” I can’t cross-examine Al OR the store clerk. I mean, come on!!!”

Moretr, appearing on Jim’s screen within the bubble (the deep state of mind, characteristic with losing connection with the Source. A dangerous state, in which you take direct orders from the ego, therefore you are forced to follow warped, poison-laced action paths that lead to INEVITABLE PAIN in 2-3 simple, avoidable steps.”

“In the bubble here comes trouble. Where are you?”

“I can hear you pretty well here.” Jim reports from the Deep Sleep State. “Let me set up the visual. Visual in.” He nods to Mr. Rockford on his chair, whom he can still see while in Deep Dream State (DDS)

Rockford nods to Tigress by the door to the kitchen, with the Spiral Staircase between them, to Tigress’s right.

“I am at 48. Seven clicks to the meeting point with You, and the internal resistance within the Bubble is severe. Emerging is very hard. In fact, I’m not planning on it, based on the screen calculations. But the good thing is that I’m using this time to talk to you, instead of wandering mindlessly. Or, “exposing the Oculum to unfiltered information. So, please tell about the rotten intel. At the end of the day two good things came out of my meltdown - I no longer need to dig through the Archives on Genesis 17 in search of Darler’s letter to Rosenburg which I stole from Rosenburg way back when, AND Mr. H can now be in my Palir…”

“Give me your coordinates.” Moretr says over Jim’s talking.

“Oh… I get carried away using Father’s Tool in Deep Dream State (DDS). Darn that. I am at 53 . H.M. is in the TV room, Genesis 17, coordinate (censored) Dorilin Dorilin-Alanira Svangibir-Kriagir Dorilin.”

“Very well done, James. Without a hitch.”

“A lifetime of escaping Clandeslux. You realise after I joined the Liberation Front they would send me to all kinds of assignments, to Nasarat City, too, because I was such a timid, unassuming Estelian. Leot’s police, the Immortals - I have seen it all. But it was a sad lifetime. In it, Henry killed himself. I am terrified to be submerged there. For the rest of my life I was lost. I served the Liberation Front, but my heart was already gone. Maybe that is why I avoided Clandeslux like a rabbit who fools a pack of wolves. What could they do to me, when my man was already gone? I was so hollow tat I was afraid of nothing. I welcomed death, I walked hand in hand with it. Oh…” Jim starts sobbing. “I do not want to go back.”

“Captured.” Moretr says to one of his Arkabins on duty. “Excellent.” Then, to James. “You are not going back, my love. You are only


“Yeah, and then, you see, you never know. Their way into your mind has to be LAWFUL - meaning, non-violent. So, if they found a way to break the code on your Sigil, and they opened it - now they know you are with the Liberation Army… Every time a polite Arkabin comes in - you never know, if he is in here to give you another task, or he is here because he was ordered to take you to the doctor’s office, where they will euthanise you without pretty much even telling you. Once you are discovered - all they need to do to follow the law is to kill you PAINLESSLY, and avoiding as much emotional impact as possible. So the Arkabins that take you to get euthanised - they are very polite, nice. You can even say “compassionate”. They are here to eliminate a hostile unit deemed impossible to re-program. Their Grehedis would love to keep you, but they do not believe they you are reprogrammable at the age of 70, and after all the crap you’ve been through. That’s what they see and that’s what they’ll do.”






















       POINTS TO WATCH OUT FOR:
EGO is confused, for YOU programmed it to twist Father’s Algorithms to hurt yourself.

I DO NOT WANT YOU TO EVER BELIEVE ANY OF THIS.

THIS IS HOW YOU GET HURT BY LISTENING TO THE EGO:

EGO is constantly looking for a way out of a good situation/happiness.
(It believes that it’s SERVICE for you is to knock you off-balance..)

One final protocol left to untangle - how did it persuade me to take NES-sp? After I “accepted that “nothing good will come my way”. I elt a prism being offered to me - a dirty prism of mind through which everything LOOKED UNFAIR. “Oh, others got this and that - lucky bitches, but it will never happen to me”. Why?

ERO IS PROGRAMMED TO SAY:

EGO is programmed to say: Everything is in vain.

EGO is programmed to say: You are insignificant.

(And you agree. Why? Well, FIRST you agreed that God is not here to comfort you. For one reason or another. So - there is NO ONE to protect you from the pain of BEING INSIGNIFICANT, and all your efforts being IN VAIN!)

EGO is programmed to LOOK for something to worry.
If there is NOTHING to worry, it will still make you shake, and you do not know why.)

As for the events which “make you feel insignificant”.
This tool breaks the attack of the EGO:

Determine the depth of event’s MONOCLINIC SIGNATURE.
I remind you that ALL of them are of SHALLOW monoclinic signature.
Therefore, the event itself is insignificant.

TOOLS of the EGO (taperecorder) to make itself look BIGGER and SCARIER than it is, to confuse you and to be able knock you (The Child Of God!) off balance:


DISTRACTION (make you look away from the Face of God)
DELAY (if you do not BREATHE GRACE off my FACE, your Oculum gets moldy, therefore moody - the reason for depression)
HOSTILE THIRD FORCES (to scare)

Your TOOLS to see Me CLEARLY:

YOUR EYES ARE ONLY AND EVER ON ME
This is how you know that
YOU ARE MY MOST VALUABLE ASSET.
YOUR SUCCESS IS IMMINENT




“As for the British project, hon. You remember that this is a dream sequence? No one in it really exists.

I value you at 100%. I will give you more love and appreciation of your talents than you could ever imagine. Henry is crying every day, for he knows how soon you will experience great success. He is terrified that you will forget about him in your incredible success. Yes, I know, you will not, but he has never seen anyone to be hit with this much deep, lasting, lucrative success and not lose their mind.
;“Man… I feel like a prisoner held without food, water and light… I see others frolic outside. They come to my cage, they spend time with me, and they go back into the Garden of God’s Attention… There they are caressed by things I can only dream of. And I’m here.” James sighs. “I do not want to start shooting NES-sp. It hurts You, me, Henry, everyone. “But sometimes it is incredibly hard just to be in the moment.”

“All of this is temporary. It will be over soon. You will see.”

“I know, my Prince, but then the Stupid starts throwing all these protocols at me… It makes me feel insignificant… What a torment. Again… I said I was not going to go there. But what do I say when it tells me that I have nothing else to look forward to?” James is exhausted from the internal mental struggle.

“You are the most significant item I have in the game right now.” Moretr is heard shifting, his steps light. The entire guy weighs, probably, not more than 20 pounds. He is tall, though. Say, 6 feet or so of silicone stretched over a frail skeleton. The sturdy male figure you see is an illusion.

You see it especially vividly when his seemingly human fingers would stretch under the collar of Jim’s shirt to test him for whatever it is a Grehedi needs to test you to see the amount of distress\discomfort you are in to relieve it. Granted, James always so tremendously stressed that he needs it often.

There is only a curtain between me sitting on the bed, and Moretr with James in Henry’s Chambers. We stopped saying “Royal” since Jaguar, Tigress and Uncle Albert came over. Henry could not pretend anymore.

“You think you are in pain, love? If you could only comprehend the amount of pain any given Grehedi or a Sheiredi is in, you’d know what “pain” really means.”

“Well, thanks for telling me this, jeez…” James is heard exhaling a deep sigh. “The stupid ego-protocol beats me up all the time.”

“Not all the time. We have come up with plenty of successful patches. What is it saying to you right now?”

Yeah, and what is it saying TO ME, too. Sometimes I want to cry out: James, YOU ARE NOT THE ONLY ONE IN PAIN!!!

It’s raining outside. It’s been raining all day. Yesterday Jim & Team were brought back from the Malachite Constellation.









4:43pm and Henry is with Prince Moretr.

“I love James so much… I hurt for him. How can I help him? He feels that no one wants him, that no one cares to tap into the deep well of his talents. He thinks that he is there to be “the boy for beatings”, taking the heat for all of us, while we are “having a good time in life”… How can I make him feel wanted and needed?”

“Just tell him how you feel about him. Tell him the truth.”






Morning! Good morning, 10^53 am
Oh, James got up at 6. He always does. And, besides, today is his father’s birthday. His father was, and remains, a very strong pacifist. Today, it will play a big role in what is coming.

Here we go.

“What is HE doing in the backyard, surrounded by all those people? Tell them all to leave.” James is immediately seething mad upon noticing. “Please tell the Lost Gentleman and his ass-licking retinue to vacate the premises. I no longer have a gun, but I can still throw a bottle of whiskey at him. And I’m a dead-eye, ask H.M.”

“James, please… Your behaviour is weighing heavy on me. Mr. H. just wants to know why were you so aggressive yesterday?” Henry closes his eyes, and seeks the internal peace. For an omega internal peace is LOYALTY to your partner. James does not make it easy for us to follow the omega law.
;“Ok, I will!" James takes a deep breath. “This is why I was aggressive towards the Lost Man. He is that proverbial, classic, Fat Cat, who, SOMEHOW, was raised to the very top shelf, and spent his life licking up cream until he got so fat, he figured he needed something else in life. He sought where to invest his money to get more money, and he came sniffing MY BAG of dirty laundry. That is why I got aggressive. Is that enough of an explanation?”

It’s not. By Henry’s face I see that it is not.

“If I may…” I say, because I’m prompted to say it by Moretr, here on my bridge plate. “Correction. The bag of dirty laundry you mentioned belonged to your Initial Omega, his family. Then and only then it was a bit yours.”

“Fine.” Jim’s lips stretch like a piece of clothing being ripped apart by two angry dogs. “Then I was aggressive because I need to change my name. It is a collar and a leash that became soaked in my blood, as I was jerked by it for two decades. Four decades, if we count Dobry.” James reaches out for whiskey under his bed.

“Can you please clarify?” Henry is typing Jim’s answers into his phone, and I see the Lost Man staring into HIS phone, while on the lawn, surrounded by three men and a woman. All of whom I know, but not allowed to disclose their identities just yet.

“Lana! Lana…. Lana! LANA! LANA-LANA-LANA-LANA!!!!!” James starts slowly and quietly, but then breaks into hoarse screaming. “Lanalanalanalana-a-a-a-a….. You know why he jerked me by my name like I was an errant dog? Because H.M. saw me as an ERRANT DOG. He did not see me as a woman, or even as a human. He saw the dog do what he did not like, and he JERKED ME BY MY COLLAR like you would, if you saw your dog eat shit.”

“Please, continue.” Henry is pale, he now types even faster.

“What’s there to continue? Don’t tell me that “they’ve been through a lot, that is why they got what they got”. That’s a pile of bull. I don’t care if the Lost Man was raped as a child, or his family was killed, or he’s been through a wringer… Don’t tell me what he has been through to EARN his good life… HE WAS REIMBURSED FOR ALL THAT SO MANY TIMES OVER THAT I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHY I’M WASTING MY BREATH TO ATTRACT THE ATTENTION TO THE HUGE DISPARITY BETWEEN US.”

“He is asking you to clarify, please…He needs to know.” Henry’s begging voice is very quiet as he is typing very fast.

“OK.” James pretends to be patient, but the Mood Rug by the Spiral Staircase turns bloody red, even as James is more than five meters away from it. “The disparity goes like this: The Lost Man spent his life eating cream and rolling on warm blankets. I spent my life rolled in my own blood, sweat and excrements. It is my father’s birthday, that is why i am not going to take out anyone, including myself. But I’m itching. So, don’t provoke me! My father, however, would hate to see me unload like that. Somehow, in order to look “decent”, you are not supposed to show your pain. And I’m sick and tired of hiding mine. I’m running out of places to hide it! Every drawer and box I ever owned is overflowing with MY PAIN, and I still haven’t gotten anything for it. How much longer?”

“James… Please stay lucid… So, why were you mad?” Henry prompts, sweat now running down his temple. He knows he is taking James through a mine field of pent-up pain, and there is only this much he can take before this bottle of whiskey WILL fly in the Lost Man’s head. Jim’s father’s birthday or not.

“I was mad, Henry, because between me and the Lost Man he’s got all the good stuff, and I got all the beatings. ALSO, I am continuing to get those beatings. I have nothing to expect in life, but the beatings from H.M. YES, he got BETTER. But as HE WAS GETTING BETTER, I WAS suffering under his cruel rule, receiving NOTHING for it. I was only warmed up very few times by God. In the entire 40 years of my life I ONLY got three Sparks of Grace: The first documentary, the Rotarian Deal, and the last one will happen and expire at the end of this month. I dread the future, because my past tells me that THERE IS NOTHING GOOD FOR ME THERE. I was waiting for a Miracle, and it happened, and it will be gone in only three weeks. Miracles of Love do not stick with me. Only beatings stick with me. As of June 1 I will welcome another season of beatings and service, smeared across the life of the most of despised, forgotten, forlorn of muggles. THE ONLY REASON I am not going to kill myself, is because of you, Henry. SOMEDAY I will break you out, so we could be together. Other than that, wake me up when the beatings are over.”

“Why don’t you believe when God tells you that your life will be good and happy, James?” Henry ventures, and regrets it immediately.

“Oh…” James gives his First omega a cold smile that makes my skin crawl. “Father says that I will be happy SOMEDAY. But between then and now there is at least 3-5 years worth of pain, during which the world will continue acting like I do not exist. IT IS VERY HARD TO LIVE LIKE THAT. It is no longer possible for me to accept such state of things. The ego says that I am being deprived of Grace on purpose. So, in response, I want to be an empty shell of a man. I want to be Paul Hargrave-Thomas. This man knows how to hide from pain. He locked ALL the doors of his soul. Granted, that fucker, just like ALL OF YOU, got everything he wanted in life. His IQ is a lot higher than mine.”

Jim sighs and hands me the bottle of whiskey. I drink as I sob.
Henry texts the Lost Man, as he weeps quietly.

“And now, that the Lost Man got his answer, I am going to count to three, Henry, and the entire dumb group of Lost Man’s supporters will disappear, back to their fucking happy lives… Oh, look at these dignitaries!” James scoffs, glancing at the small crowd on the lawn, right by Matushka’s roses. “Boy, if it was not my father’s birthday… I’d make at least four holes in each before they knew what hit them. And then I will pee on the Lost Man’s corpse before the Arkabins take it away to resuscitate him. I’d take a shit on him, but I don’t think I’ll have enough time. But, he will wake up smelling like my pee, and THAT will make me happy. Yeah!”

“Hold on, James…’ Henry is typing very quickly, and then reads the answer he receives.

“That’s ONE, Henry.”

“James, he has one more question…”

“No more questions.” James tenses up, which means that he has already gotten a hold of tools to follow through with his threats.

“My Dad’s bday or not, it will take me less than 11 seconds to conjure up a fully loaded 9mm. I WILL SHOOT RIGHT THROUGH THE GLASS. I will shoot every single one of them in the head. This is Level 2, and they will be brought back. But the death will be real. There will be a lot of blood and their useless brains scattered all about. I will be suspended from school again, I will be yelled at by Lady Lion, Matushka AND Lady Tigress. These women I actually care about. So, Henry, to avoid that, you will stop your compulsive texting with the man who missed 90% of lessons in life, but received 300% of candy, you will get up, and you will ask them to leave. You will ask them loud enough for me to hear. Since I can’t indulge in their physical pain, i will have to settle on enjoying their emotional pain. I would like to see them feel humiliated at the very least.”

“James…” Henry shakes his head, still typing, and wiping tears off his eyes.

“TWO, Henry.”

A black M&P appears in Jim’s hand. The scene is being broadcasted via screens throughout the premises. The gun in Jim’s hand, by itself, is a grave violation. Using it will get him in deep trouble, but he is too entangled in his emotions to care.

Everyone is watching him breathlessly.

Seeing that, Henry gets up and slides the back door open.

The group on the lawn stirs up.

The Lost Man makes one step towards Henry.

Henry pulls in enough air to fill the sail of a large ship.

“You need to leave right away.” He says with his lips tight, as if he is trying to prevent himself from saying this.

“What is his answer?” I can hear the Lost Man asking.

“The answer is “We will talk if I survive another four moons of non-stop beatings with zero to look forward to in life.” Henry says as he turns around to see where James is, and James is right behind him, his hands outstretched, the gun in his right hand, with the left supporting the right.

The most heartbreaking part is that Jim’s face is not heavy on emotions, but blissful and bright.

“Finally, something to look forward to.” James mouths and shifts his index finger from “stand-by” to “on-trigger” position.

“THREE” Kellspell says harshly, now all emotion and all color gone from his face.

“Mr. H, sir, please, leave NOW!” Henry screams. “He IS going to shoot! He’s done it BEFORE!!!”

Despondent, the Lost Man looks down in defeat, and quickly urges his group of supporters to leave.

Kellspell growls, spits after the Lost Man, but then makes two steps and collapses backwards on the bed, the gun dissipating in his hand as he falls.








“Now, will you tell me, what 10% of “truth” wound you up yesterday?” I ask, kissing him on the left side of his neck. I must show love and support as much as I can.

“I see that very little Grace percolates to the bottom of humanity.” Jim starts. “It is like light on the surface of the ocean - the deeper you get, the less light. Those on the very bottom don’t even know what Grace is. All they know is very hard work for next to nothing, and a bowl of food at the end of the day. That’s ALL of their “reward”. We here in the middle actually KNOW what Grace IS, Wallace, but we can’t get very much. All the large chunks of Grace are received by the sharks up above. And I hope the Lost Man chokes on his disproportionate share of Grace. But that will change nothing for me.”

“OK, so what pissed you off the most in what the ego said yesterday, at 2:54 am?”

“Sure, my love.” James nods, nuzzles me, kisses me in the lips, and recites the info that screwed him up yesterday, even before dawn.

“You are facing 4 to 6 more moons worth of beatings and “idle periods” during which you are left to heal, so that he can beat you up again.

You will receive NO GRACE during those periods, and you will be forced to thank the fate for the bowl of food you’re getting.

Your entire life is SERVICE TO THE COVENANT (H.M. needs, wants, whims). This is what he bought you for, this is what he is paying you for.

Hope for nothing else. Dream of nothing else. You will get NOTHING ELSE from life.

All you ever received from God throughout your whole life was small crumbs of Grace, while He shoveled the biggest chunks down the gullets of the Lost Man and those like him.

The big chunks, my dear James, the ego went on, are given to POWERFUL MEN. In order to get that Grace you will have to break your Covenant, so you could be with such men. But you refuse to break the Covenant, so you will remain unhappy the remainder of your miserable life. You appear to be with the WRONG MAN to get anything.

Unnoticed by anyone, you will be sucked dry, slip into old age and die.

It is ALL because you refuse to break the Covenant.

Had you agreed to free yourself from the Covenant that brought you nothing but BEATINGS your WHOLE life, you COULD have a shot at Grace. With ANOTHER MAN. But no Grace will percolate to the level where you are now.

Do you see what God does? He PLACATES you to take “a bit more” pain, telling you how H.M. is the “good man” who is “weak to his ego”… And YOU are the one to comfort him, while he is being possessed by “his” dumb ego.

That leaves you fend for yourself with no hope for a reward. As always.”

This is what the Stupid generated, and it brought me down, Wallace!

“Henry got you the British project.” I remind.

“Yes! And I should have been grateful, but as it was coming to an end, I could not help but feeling that I was given the smallest crumb God could get away with, to shut me up, and keep me “grateful”, so that the new season of being beaten and abandoned, beaten and forgotten, beaten and not reimbursed could begin with no impediments. Each and every one of you will get A LOT OF positive, respectful ATTENTION this coming summer. Me? By the end of summer I will be dumb and dumber due to a huge amount of incredible rude, violent behaviour I face from H.M. on a daily basis. I am tired of biting the bullet. I am no longer alone in it, thanks God, yes. But my team on Level 2 is just that - on Level 1 I might just pretend that you guys do not exist. You do help, but, there is a problem with ALL OF YOU, ‘my” ego noticed. I see you all go behind the Curtain and ENJOY VERY SWEET GRACE THERE.”

“I know what you mean.” I sigh, throw my head back and think of an answer. And I can’t find any. Maybe, I just should drink more. And I do.

“YOU ALL are engaged, needed, LOVED. Even you, Wallace. Sheba blamed Henry for not being honest with me. Well, you were not entirely honest with me, either. Apparently, this whole time that I believed that you were “out of work”, and feeling sorry for you, you were having at least 2 engagements a year.”

“Yes.” This is all I can say between burning gulps.

Not that Jim needs anyone to say anything when he goes into his long monologues. He is used to venting alone for hours on end.

“Henry flies very high.” James continues with a forced smile. “He surrendered to me, so I must protect him from “my” ego, that seeks to hurt whatever flies above me. When I found out, that YOU TOO were receiving Grace, I had to bring back the “blanket made of my tears” that I used to cover Krotkie with, so that the ego would not attack him. I WILL protect you too, for you have surrendered to me. What am I left with? A bunch of fat cats seeking my compassion. What did the British project do? Showed me how much Grace is UPSTAIRS. What did I receive? A small crumb from your table.”

“I see what you are saying…” My mouth is parched, and the palms of my hands are burning. This is how much influence James can have on you in his mourning for his life, wasted on “beatings” and “nothing else worth mention”.

“Once I was done sucking every bit of nutrition from that crumb, and watch it END, I was HUNGRY for God’s Grace again. But I KNEW that God was not planning to give me any more Grace any time soon. What He said was “you must be patient”.

“Yes….” I exhale. It is very hard to talk when Jim is pouring out his exasperation on you.

He is barely holding himself from being furious and spiteful. He loves me and he knows that I love him, too. Also, I’m an omega. He will not go after a surrendered omega. Or a fallen Alpha. So, Mr. Rockford on his chair over there is safe, too.

But that does not make him hurt less.

“So, as the Crumb of the British project is coming to an end, I’m in too much pain to care what everyone has to think. The EGO is telling me that I will receive NOTHING BUT WHAT IT USED TO BE before the British project. The ego is programmed to extrapolate from the past. In the past I only had THREE CRUMBS OF GRACE for 40 years worth of hell I care not to recall. Give me one reason why I should not believe the ego’s estimate of what will happen to me in the next 6 moons?”

“You are leaving a lot out of the picture.” I say carefully. He will not hurt me, and he will not kick me out. I’m an omega. I am defenseless, and that is why it works with a highly aggressive beta in tremendous amount of emotional pain. However, I still do not want to hurt him ever more with a careless comment. I must weigh every word I utter.

“Your“ ego’s approach is narrow-minded.”

“Sure, Wallace!” James is ready to agree, for he KNOWS how limited the ego’s estimation is. “I’m fully aware that in my inebriation with my own suffering I’m forgetting that Lady Anne has been selflessly taking care of Kyle and Isaak while I was nursing my “hurt ego”. She simply threw herself where help was needed, without thinking of “the reward”. For that, she had her finger shot off by Mr. Milgram, who, in his rage, did not care who was at the door. Mr. Merritt and Mr. Milgram are MY friends and MY problem. Yet, SHE is the one taking heat for it. I’m TOTALLY aware that my whining falls under the category of “selfish recount of what YOU didn’t get in life”. It is also Krotkie’s path, which did him in. That is why I protected him. Because, as despicable as his self-destructive behaviour is, I can clearly see why he is at it. I am aware of all of that, and yet, the ego’s prediction stands: by the end of this summer I will be dumb and dumber from all the beatings that are in store for me.”

This is where I break down crying. I can’t take it anymore.

Jim’s eyes turn bright jade-green when he cries.

And so he cries with me. He cries for the next twenty minutes, his behaviour unimpeded, and his words uncontested.

I huddle with him and cry for the future beatings from H.M. he will receive while denied the “Grace” of attention, that he craves so much.

He drinks, and cries. Then he hands me the bottle, and we drink together. He wants to smoke, and does not.

Lady Tigress frowns on Jim’s smoking, and he values her opinion. He was duly impressed, having learned that Lady Tigress, her father, AND Jaguar are true martyrs.

But, they are royals, Jim said. It was tremendously hard for them, especially without painkilling drugs like blue ksill, he adds. Yet, they were not FORGOTTEN. Perhaps, misunderstood, sometimes labeled incorrectly, but not forgotten by History. They lead an extremely painful, but dignified life. All I had was beatings with 1% of a reward.

The Lost Man had tons of Grace, with, maybe, 10% of negative stuff that happened, sure. But who cares, when you are THIS NEEDED, when everyone wants you, when you can pick up a phone and call ANYONE, and they will send a limo for you and be grateful that you are there, and will pay you tons of money… The worst shit happens to you - who cares - YOU HAVE SO MANY PEOPLE WHO WILL GIVE YOU WHAT YOU WANT, ANYTIME. Me? I can’t even think of HOPING to get anther crumb from the OVERFLOWING TABLE THAT GOD HAS PREPARED FOR HIS FAVORITES, of which YOU are ONE, Wallace.

Boy, do I hear it every night, right as we cuddle in bed. I can hear his thoughts via the bridgeplate that connects us even as neither of us is looking at it.

“The ego is telling me that Grace is ABUNDANT at the TOP.
The ego is telling me that Grace is being WITHHELD from me ARTIFICIALLY.
How can I NOT believe it, when I see the Lost Man rolling in Grace like pig in shit? Granted, he has no idea what to do with it. Is that why he came over? To ask ME what to do with all the TIME AND MONEY that comes his way? He better not come back, or I will honestly hurt him more than he could ever imagine…. Anyway. THIS is why I woke up at 2:54 am yesterday. Because the machine told me - God is not giving you any Grace ON PURPOSE, to see how much more you can take without it.”

“Do you believe it?” I ask, desperately trying o save his soul from devil’s mortal grip.

“I do, Wallace. I’m terrified to venture into this thinking, but seeing ALL OF YOU chewing 60 kg of Grace every day like it was leaves for a panda bear, I have NO CHOICE but to agree with the Stupid. God IS withholding the Grace from me INTENTIONALLY. He will continue to withhold Grace, as He feeds me the bullshit about being “patient” for the FUTURE reward, and “grateful” for what I have already received. Sorry, I have received nothing but beatings from an unruly creation of God, called H.M.” Jim drinks from the bottle and hands me the rest.

I drink it without thinking.

“So, this is the 10 % that pissed me off estersay at 2 54 am. And I know it’s true! Why? In the last 40 years all I ever got was FOUR CRUMBS from God’s Table of Grace. Th rest 98% was BEATINGS. I MUST lock up emotionally for the future that is to come! All I EVER could look forward to in life was BEATINGS. No respect, no care for what is inside of me, no desire to know what I am - JUST PLAIN BEATINGS TO GET THE DOG TO DO WHAT THE DOG IS SUPPOSED TO DO. You know who it was done by? It was done not by some savage, but by a very educated American man. A Jewish attorney. You know who I AM? I am a 47 year old WOMAN. Do I not deserve ANY BETTER? Apparently, not. Wallace, this is THE END of my emotions. Here and now, I forbid myself to FEEL or CARE anymore, until I’m given a FIRM PROOF that I will get more than BEATINGS in the upcoming 6 moons. Otherwise, my life is just moving me from one cage to another, so I could be food for the hungry sick fucker called H.M.”

I drink, and I sob, and I do not respond.

“The ego is telling me this: You stupid idiot, God told you not to kill yourself, and God told you not to break the Covenant. Well, you are FUCKED, then. There WILL BE NO WAY OUT OF THE TORTURE CHAMBER GOD HAD PUT YOU INTO. For all I know, the ego says, He is ENJOYING watching you chewed on by the hungry American Attorney. You know WHY you are a sucker of God? Because you agreed to take care of your MOTHER. The ONLY WAY you can care for your mother is when you willingly, and without a sound, submit to the man’s BEATINGS. Only then will you receive the pitiful salary that will enable you to take care fo your aging mother.” This is what the ego has been saying to me this whole time!!!”

I drink, and I weep, and I do not respond.

“THIS IS WHY I GOT UP AT 2 45 M LAST NIGHT. Because I could no longer take the fact that the STUPID was RIGHT. This is what it looks like. My ONLY reward in all this is being LEFT TO MY OWN DEVICES in the times when H.M. is distracted by something else, and IS NOT BEATING UP ON ME, or is not FORCING ME TO HAVE SEX WITH HIM.

I drink, and I cry, and I do not respond.

“So, when the Lost Man can show 20 years worth of rape, beatings, humiliations WITH ZERO REWARD, I will, then, apologise to him, and give him what he wants. So far -  he can go fuck himself. Why? He is so big, that no one dares to fuck with him. WHILE I AM LEFT NAKED, TIED UP BY THE COVENANT, AND FULLY EXPOSED FOR H.M. TO RAPE ME ANY TIME HE WANTS. For I am here for him to be his COMFORTING BLOW-UP DOLL. Other times - a dog to follow his orders. Never a woman, never a human. Remember this, Wallace, YOU LUCKY MOTHERFUCKER WHO DID TASTE PLENTY OF GRACE IN YOUR LIFE.”

Oh, Jim slaps you hard. He can be such a ruthless henchman. But, I signed up for martyrdom.

I drink, and I sob, and I do not respond. The bottle is empty now. I look at James, and without another word he stretches his hand over the bed, and a new bottle of “Uncle Nearest” transpires on the comforter. He hands it to me.

“I need you to know” he continues in a level, clear voice despite huge amounts of alcohol he has already consumed. “I need you to remember VERY WELL, that the only reason my suicide is off the table is because GOD ASKED ME NOT TO KILL MYSELF.
The only reason I am not going to break the Covenant with H.M. is because GOD ASKED ME TO SPARE THE COVENANT, AND H.M.
While listening to “my” ego, and FULLY AGREEING WITH IT, I realise that it is a dumb device with warped protocols and zero reason in it. And Father IS ETERNAL and infinitely wise. I trust Him. I just need  to survive one more day in this hopeless desert.”

I drink, and I weep, and I do not respond.

“This British project brought me more pain that joy, any day of the week, for I KNOW it is JUST A CRUMB from YOUR table that

YOU SHARE WITH GOD,

AND I DO NOT!

In three weeks I will be cut off from it, dismissed, sent back to my room, and asked to close the door behind myself so I could not smell the tasty treats God distributes among His favorites. But don’t worry. YOU will NOT be sent to your room in three weeks. YOU, Wallace, will remain at His Table!!!”

James suddenly raises his hoarse voice, grabs the bottle from my hands and throws it into the hall. It hits the Spiral Staircase, and shatters all over the Mood Rug. The Mood Rug ignites in dark-brown red, and flames from the inside outwards. I can almost see it writhing in corrupting, crippling tsunami of pain from James.

I sit there, numb and drunk, watching the flaming rug, and the pool of whiskey slowly spreading across the floor, created as the bottle fell.

“And to add insult to the injury, the British project, I found out, was another creation by the Lost Man, who has not left his dumb idea to chase my Initial Omega. Granted, he was never MY omega, I feel that the Lost Man has trespassed enough for me to shoot him and greatly enjoy his pain. That, however, will not bring me any Grace.”

“Father says you will have Grace.” I say, barely able to open my mouth.

“Yes.” James answers slowly, calmly, and in a very cold voice. “But He wants 50 YEARS OF PATIENCE for it from me. HE NEVER ASKED FOR 50 YEARS OF PATIENCE FROM THE LOST MAN. He gave him pretty much everything to succeed, pretty much right away.

GOD NEVER ASKED FOR 50 YEARS OF PATIENCE FROM YOU. He gave YOU everything right away. What is it that you are and I’m not?

GOD NEVER ASKED FOR 50 YEARS OF PATIENCE FROM Mr. Rockford. He gave HIM everything right away. Am I not good enough for God? Not as good as Mr. Rockford?

GOD NEVER ASKED FOR 50 YEARS OF PATIENCE FROM Dr. Michael. He gave HIM everything right away.

GOD NEVER ASKED FOR 50 YEARS OF PATIENCE FROM Lady Anne. He gave HER everything right away.

GOD NEVER ASKED FOR 50 YEARSD OF PATIENCE FROM Lady Lion. He gave her enough intelligence to put Elon Musk to shame. And that gave her everything right away.

GOD NEVER ASKED FOR 50 YEARS OF PATIENCE FROM Henry. He gave him everything right away.

The list goes on, my clueless friend. I am surrounded by the FAT CATS who knew very little sorrow in their lives, but TONS OF GRACE, lavished upon them as if no one else even exists!

There is ONLY THIS MUCH I CAN TAKE, Wallace. I’m tired of being “boy for the beatings”, the scapegoat for ALL OF YOU. If only I was EVER reimbursed for that! All I’m getting for everyday pain and humiliation is 24 000 a year to take care of my mother. And some shit on Amazon that does me no good. Am I ungrateful? Am I wrong comparing ALL OF YOU to my miserable life?”

I drink, and I cry, and I do not respond.

“I am SICK TO MY STOMACH watching you succeed in life, while I AM TOTALLY FORGOTTEN in the cage with a cruel tiger!” Jim screams with his head upwards, like a howling, wounded wolf.

I drink, and I sob, and I do not respond.

“The ego says - why don’t you use the Tool Of Comparison? You KNOW it will hurt God. And I try not to, for I am conscientious of ALL OF YOU, and the pain I cause Father. But the British project tasted so good, and it is going to be ripped out of my hungry mouth in three weeks. Right now, my pain in anticipation of that moment is SO MUCH that I no longer know right from wrong, Wallace.

I can’t kill myself, which I desperately want.
I can’t break the Covenant with H.M., which I desperately want.
This is what is hurting me - my COMMITMENTS.
Without that dumb adherence I cold dump H.M. and go look for a man who could give me access to Grace. He’d abuse me just the same, but, at least, I will get the Grace of Attention.

I can’t leave H.M., because I respect God.

But I CAN use the Tool Of Comparison to hurt God and ALL OF YOU, just to let you feel a TAD of my pain. Pain I will be in for the next 6 moons, thrown back into my cage, AS YOU ALL CONTINUE TO FEAST.

Taken out of my stuffy closet (oh, a million dollar house with a pool! Thank you!) for 2 days of filming, only to be thrown back, and FORGOTTEN AGAIN, God only knows for how long, pun not intended.

Then, throughout the summer, the machine is telling me, FATHER WANTS TO TEST YOU. HE WANTS TO SEE HOW MUCH LONGER YOU CAN LAST, ARTIFICIALLY DEPRIVED OF GRACE. The Grace is abundant, the ego tells me, but God does not want you to have it yet. He wants to see how far you can go without it. Go ahead, prove me wrong, the device adds.

And how can I not believe that, when I compare ALL OF YOUR LIVES  and MINE?

And if God did not want me to compare, why didn’t He send me some poor riksha from India, who knows nothing but hard work and beatings? Or some prostitute from Africa, who knows nothing but hard life and beatings? WHY YOU BITCHES? What is in it for ME? To know how well you were treated all your life, and know that God is telling me to be patient for 6 more moons, so that I could get another tiny crumb from His table.“

I drink, and I sob, and I do not respond. The reason for that is very simple - Jim has locked me out of his mind so he could stab himself with NES-sp until he is poisoned senseless.

“I am going to spend the next 6 moons WATCHING EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU GETTING EXHILARATED ON PROJECT AFTER PROJECT. Henry threw me a crumb from HIS TABLE. I love Henry more than my life. And I know that there is only this much he can do for me. But that changes nothing for me. It does not change the fact that the stupid ego is RIGHT. I can’t dismiss its words. I can’t get them out of my head. The Stupid only and ever gives me the ANALYSIS based on PREVIOUS EXPERIENCE. My “previous experience” is 2% joy and 98% beatings. What would you have me do?”

“You are killing yourself, James. Let me back into your mind, please. So I could take the syringe with poison out of your hands.” I put the bottle down and sit by Jim’s side on the bed. Enough is enough. I’m not here to watch him indulge in self-destructive behaviour.

“You told me you never hated anyone.” James says, and it sounds like a non-sequitur. But only to an outsider.

“And I stand by my statement.” I respond, taking his hand and kissing it.

“I won’t to rip you into pieces for being such a weak door mat, Wallace.”

Not hating anyone is translated into Jim’s mind as “weak door mat”.

Jim narrows his eyes and looks down, despising me deeply, beating me up in his mind. Then beating himself up. I can still see all that, but I’m locked out, so I can’t interfere.

But, as I turn over his hand and start kissing his palm, he knows he is done. He can’t resist his omega’s caress.

And I am not doing anything Henry could not do, but Henry is not like that. He waits until Jim is upon him like a tsunami over a coastal town. I take initiative.

“Will you tell me how you managed not to hate anyone?” James falls back letting me unbutton his shirt and kiss his chest. As I kiss it, his chest turns into a woman’s breast. He lets me change him into his female avatar, which he can’t stand.

“Yes.”

“I’m letting you in.”

Got him.

I am inside of Jim’s mind. Here is the control panel, and here is the syringe with NES-sp (self-pity). He emptied a dozen of them. He packs them with a really potent solution, of his own making. Part of it is his, and part is Krotkie’s recipe. They used to shoot up NES-sp together so much that they were known to huddle and cry for days, and weeks without stopping.

The corrupting, heavy NES-sp shocks his system to smithereens, causing US ALL to suffer deeply.

I remove all syringes and hand them to Moretr, who appears right after me, not that i opened the door of Jim’s soul from the inside.

“It is regretful that you are full of shit, Uolles.” James is relaxed and he lets me do whatever I find necessary inside of his mind. He also has hard time pronouncing my name correctly when he is calm.

I like it when he says my name this way. It is exotic. It excites me.

“I detect a huge childhood trauma in your life. A trauma of such gargantuan proportions that you swore off the Covenant entirely. There is a sigil on those events, and I will not lift it. You will tell me when you are ready, if at all. I may not detect hate per se, but I get a tight-upper lip attitude you took up.



sherzahd@gmail.com










Jim’s personal channel came up at 2:54 am. He must have used the bridgeplate in his mind, as he “slept”.

My right hand got warm, enough for me to wake up. The record on Jim’s channel began as he was sleeping by my side with his face into Henry’s back.

I got up and visualised my bridgeplate under my right hand. It started out as white and red, but then they found out in the process, tat the best color was green and white, and it worked the best way when Jim united three of them.

Mine was just one, but it is enough!

Jim’s record transpired right from the fuzzy pale-green middle:

“I just caught the machine saying. “Oh, see? These people have ignored your email. HURT THE OCULUM FOR THAT?”

Oh, jeez, don’t do that! We ALL are going to get hurt. I want to say to James, but his mind is out of reach. I can’t influence him in any way.

“I KNEW I was going to be in pain, but I KNEW that FATHER was ALSO going to be in a lot of pain, if I “hurt the Oculum”. Deep down inside I CAUGHT THE THOUGHT of THE ORIGINAL PLOT TO HIRT FATHER FOR “abandoning me”.

The WHOLE IDEA of my escape was to get hurt, to get Father hurt, and blame Father for that.

I think I know how NOT TO HURT MYSELF AND FATHER again.

I just have to figure out a way to get out of habit of stabbing myself in the Oculum when things don’t go my way.

Get off the tracks, where I placed myself, come next train of events.

How?

The grudge was my best weapon, always.

Jesus, the task of not hurting myself for “being forgotten” is insurmountable, considering the fact that in one month the British project will be over.

Crying deeply already.
Hating those happy fuckers already.
THEY will move to the next project.
I WILL be discarded or a long time again.

See, the ego is happy now!
It managed to get me to hurt myself.
Is that what I wanted?
No! Obviously, not.

“Look into the past now?” The Stupid inquires again SUBSERVIENTLY!!! Can you believe the tone I set up to confuse myself as to the purpose of the ego-program? “Must we hurt the Oculum more by talking about how you were so very forgotten in Iziran Hanen for two decades with a crazy man, while so many were leading fun life?”

Blyat! I am deeply bitter again.

How do I get from this bitterness to “Loyalty, Honor, Service”?

I can’t. Stuck in NES-sp again. Here we go. Now I brought myself down instead of LOOKING FORWARD TO THE ASSIGNMENT.

Father, I pushed myself into the cauldron of deep regret again! Please, help me!

I WANT to be happy, but I fell into Krotkie self-destruction path. Always afraid that “this project is the last one”. My Prince, I literally do not see a way out of sadness. How can I be wearing the cloak of sadness, when just about everyone I know is envious of my life?!”

The second line of text was from Prince Moretr. Well, the sentient being is, first, not really “here”, and, second, never really sleeps.

“Let me see, James. Please, give me two to four hours to penetrate your reality. I will fix everything by midday.”

James lets go of Moretr and continues to float in the sour soup of his thoughts.

“I’ve got a sore inside of my mouth. I need to make an appt to Dr. Dane.” He dictates to himself. “The main ting is to STOP EXPERIENCING FEAR. That one is the most harmful. Whatever happens to my BODY is INCONSEQUENTIAL,you stupid ego. Quit trying to scare me with a “slow and painful descent to death.”

There is NO death!”

James, or my James. I will be sixty one this year.

But I know what he says to that. “At least you GOT TO LIVE A LIFE OF GRACE, where you were respected and employed for your talents.”

My heart bleeds for him so. But if he does not make it, no one will make it. And we need him to sequence every single strand of ego-programming.

A few minutes of inaction as my bridgeplate glows brighter green due to the input of Jim’s enormous energy. The energy is not his. It is of God. But you have to be a vessel strong enough to hold this much.

“I just can’t seem to break out of negative thinking. Of all the things I COULD BE DOING instead of being beaten by H.M.”

“He loves you very much, James. You are the only sunshine in his ego-confinement.”

This line has wider text, deeper in color. It is NOT Prince Moretr.

“I know, Father.”

Yeah, oh, yeah. This is Melekh Shel Zahav. The closest to God a mere mortal could ever hear.

“Be strong. You will see.”

“Thank you. Once you are here, I feel like an ant, lifted from deep in the grass, and shown, that the path back to the pavement is only inches away! It is impossible to argue with You, as You lift me out of the grass to show that it is not long until we are done with all the trials.”

“There you go.”

And I saw it, too. A Hand lifted Jim to see where he really was. We ARE almost Home.

The Spiral Staircase creaks just enough for me to glance up.

Matushka comes down in a white lacy nightie.

“Did the staircase creak too much under my weight?” Matushka whispers.

She is conscious about her weight.

“How did you know what I relayed to the bridgeplate?”

“After Mr. Kellspell committed a burglary with a purpose of sexual assault on my husband, he was given to me at 25%. I am inside of his mind at 25%, Wallace. And as a victim of his crime I was given direct access. I do not need a bridgeplate to know what is going on in his head.”

Remarkable. She explains it as something very easy to obtain, but you have to have a pretty high level yourself to be equalized with Jim’s mind.

I meant, high level of pain.

Matushka lights up a cigarette and walks to the large window that was created to extend the light coming from the sliding door when the north bedroom wall was removed.

Mr. Rockford sighs in his sleep and stirs. He’s been sleeping in Jim’s bed ever since I brought him in three months ago. Jim adores his Alpha, even after his Alpha went down in disgrace.

“It is hard to believe that our trials will EVER be over, but we ARE very close, Wallace.”

“I am afraid of the END!” I shake my head in the dark, watching her outline against the window, and a spark of her cigarette.

“I am five years your senior, Wallace. I should be afraid more!” Matushka chuckles and fixes the vase with roses on the tea table. The roses she grew in the garden she created. Right outside the back door, where the holly hedge used to be, which Mr. Milrgam used to trim, and into which Jim used to pee, and sometimes puke when he had too much whiskey.

That hedge held almost two years worth of history, it was mercilessly abused by many of us, and it had to give way to a BETTER ARRANGEMENT.

“4:23am, Wallace.” Matushka finishes her cigarette and puts it out into an ashtray on the table. “Any more records from Jim?”

“No.” I shake my head.

“You know why?” She waves her hand at me, on the way back upstairs.

“Why?” I ask into the darkness, as she ascends.

“Because we distracted him from hurting himself. I noticed it before. When he’d start chewing his bit - all I had to do was come down and start doing mundane, unrelated things. He’d tune into my mind, and be forced to let go of himself.”

Richard sighs again, tosses and turns, crumpling up the sheets.

“So, you saved him just now?” I ask, breathless.

“I think we saved each other a while ago.”

She is now completely gone.

She came over, influenced James, calmed him down, and went back to bed. Genius.

I remain alone for a while, monitoring the bridgeplate for more signs of Jim’s distress.

But none comes.

Astonished, I climb back to bed between Jim and Henry (always huddled together when Henry comes to sleep here), and restless, sweating Richard.




7:21am  Henry and Richard went upstairs to use Dr. Michael’s bathroom and shower, because James has locked himself in ours. I never could sleep, so I did my morning routine in the bathroom BEFORE Kellspell got up.

I am monitoring his bridgeplate. Jim is in a lot of pain. He should not be, but he is tormenting himself, us, and Father.

“My Prince, I know HOW not to be in pain. Not use the Tool of Comparison with others. Question is - why should I NOT use the Tool on myself?”

“Please carry on, James. I am on it. I am addressing the issues as we speak.” Moretr always goes for buying more time with distraught James.

“The Lost Man is back to haunt me. He is not getting in here.”

“It is your right to refuse to see people, of course.”

“OK. Good. Let him frolic with his enormous money looking for new projects. What sweet freedom! Must be good life. Well, fuck him. There is nothing I can do about it.”

Henry comes down the Spiral Staircase with the towel over his shoulder and wet hair. As he crosses the Mood Rug, it ignites in yellowish-red.

“You should not let James attack anyone.” Henry reads Jim’s session with Prince Moretr over my shoulder.

“Moretr is dealing with him now.” I respond. And if Moretr can’t handle the pissed-off James, what can I do?

“You will have your own money and time before we call you, enough to say that you experienced freedom.” Moretr responds in deep bold green.

“OK. I believe that. I will have it before I die, then. Just to taste. Because so far my evaluation of this gig is really low, my Prince. I am seeing dumb people getting all the opportunities, and spending their life having fun, while my talents go unnoticed and, of course, unreimbursed. Also, in the last 40 years I have received an unfairly large share of beatings. If anyone is short on those experiences, I am here to help.”

“It is going to become very good, very sweet, very soon, James.” You might think that Moretr is placating Jim, but I think the Andromedan prince is just stating the fact.

But Jim does not react to “reward in the future”. Too weary to carry on, he says.

Sitting in the bedroom, I can hear James flushing the toilet in the bathroom.

“Isaak Lvovich stole my gun. I got another one.” Appears on the bridgeplate. “My Lady Tigress took away that gun. Fine. Since I am no longer allowed to shoot at photographs of those I believe got more than me in the most unfair of ways, I can still show my disdain in a peaceful way. Watch this.”

The text of Jim’s message is deep red, glowing anger. I can almost feel the packed heat of decades spent laying in wait, palpable heat coming from the letters on the bridgeplate.

“See this piece of paper? This is The Lost Man.”

I hear behind me in the bathroom the toilet being flushed again.

“Now he was washed away from my life. In my mind he belongs in the sewage. He, and everything he had done. Why? Because I DID NOT GET TO DO ANYTHING I WANTED! BECAUSE HE GOT ALL MY GRACE AND MY MONEY. So, enjoy MY MONEY in the toilet, you fucker.”

I get so carried away by the bloody drama, and Jim’s raw suffering, that I WAKE UP to Henry sobbing on the bed. How did he get on the bed - I did not see. When did he start crying, I totally missed.

Henry’s inconsolable behaviour and his stiff pose makes the atmosphere that much more saturated with emotional devastation.

“Are you embarrassed for James?” I ask him, not sure if I even want this conversation.

The electrifying silence lasts, possibly, forever. During which there are no more messages from James on the bridgeplate.

“Yes.” Lord Carlton finally responds in his deep voice. “All this will come out. I will end up looking the Lost Man in the eye and explaining my mate’s shameful outbursts of anger, like I had to do the LAST time…”

“So, tell the Lost Man that James spent his whole life coiled up like a snake, waiting for his chance. He got a spark of hope when you arranged for the British project. Now he senses the end of that. He is very upset. He feels like a man in the desert. 40 years in the desert, truly, Henry. 40 years, one gulp of water. And he is hurt to see the Lost Man swimming in the waterfall, and he believes that the Lost Man took more than his share.”

In response Henry whispers something into his hands without raising his eyes on me.

I think better than asking him to repeat himself.

It’s 8:38 am, and Jim needs to get ready for school at 9am. The classroom he used to occupy to work with Uri Kumlatov got illusion-panelled into the quarters for Jaguar, Tigress and Uncle Albert.

Temporarily, James goes into the backyard and studies there, with Milgram’s apartment windows right above him, and Matushka’s roses behind him.

But right now he is drunk, unshaven, and probably just in his underwear, flushing down the toilet the papers with Lost Man’s name on them.

“What I see is SOME PEOPLE GETTING AN EASY ROUTE, or getting reimbursed more than their purse can ever take. I WAS GIVEN A TREMENDOUSLY HARD, thankless segment of work. I spent my life first caring for my mother for 20 years, and then I was moved into another cage to take care of another sick puppy.”

James drinks out of the bottle, while Henry is crying on the bed. Right now he is just laying there with his face in the pillow, pressed by his heavy thoughts.

A filming set is not a very private setting.

Henry hides his face in the pillows like an ostrich his head in the sand. A broken man now, all grace gone from his appearance.

This is a reality show, filmed and broadcasted by the Arkchils. The guys who NEVER FELL ASLEEP. So, none of us get a single moment of privacy. Even those of us who’s bedrooms have four walls.

And I can say that I’m stuck with the sexual offenders in the bedroom with only three walls. To deprive them of privacy. I could say that I’m “stuck”, but I will not say that. I love James with all my heart, and I’m HONORED to be stuck with him.

“I hate that fucker!!!”

The door opens as James screams, gulping down alcohol. “He gets to LIVE A LIFE!!! And I was thrown under a bulldozer, like a log.”

Oh, watch me cry. Watch me bleed ALL my regrets in life. Jim’s breakdowns are as devastating, as they are healing. I can cry with him, and let out all MY pain.

Hypnotised by Jim’s raw performance, I want to shed the last pretences, too, and run out to the lawn, and scream into the skies. Scream for release. If release is not possible, then scream for the relief.

“Are you… Are you denouncing me for my behaviour?” James stares at me with bloodshot eyes on the face with five o’clock shadows.

“Give me that bottle of “Uncle Nearest”, Jim.” I cut him short. There is no more need for words.

8 51 am. I drink with him.

“The Lost Man took my share.” James says slowly, alcohol running down his chin.

“You are the Servant of God, who was given The Hardest Job.” I say through my tears.

“How do I take joy in that?” Jim responds just with just his lips, his suffering is as dense as the mass of a neutron star.

“How do you take joy in martyrdom, when everyone always told you how absurd, foolish and insane your choice in life was?”




3 pm The class with Kumlatov was a disaster. James could not answer a single question, and finally Moretr (who is always aware of everything that is going on) came and picked Jim up. His first question was: “what drugs did you take?”. Jim confessed to making a cocktail out of NES-Im (Impatience), NES-dt (distrust for the Help) and NES-sp (his favourite self-pity).

They went for a walk in the woods after that, and Moretr logically disabled every single twisted protocol that was hurting Jim.

A funny exchange took place right after Moretr’s Arkabin brought Jim back from the walk (Kellspell is normally confined to our bedroom, and is not allowed unescorted anywhere on the premises, for the safety of the guests).

“Give me my boy back!” Tigress was apparently looking for James. “And get out of here! I don’t trust aliens as far as I can throw them!”

“Judging by your size, ma’am, you can’t throw me very far.” The massive Arkabin responded, grinning.

“Don’t judge HER by her size!” Jim went after the retreating Arkabin, and slid the door shut after him.

After he was done helping Tigress, and she let him go begrudgingly, Jim went right back to his poison-laced bone.

“I know! I will bury my creative self. I will kill every hope that ANYONE EVER will use my talents!” Kellspell starts a cigarette with a theatrical smile.

Whatever Matushka said or did, it did not work.
Whatever Moretr said or did, it did not work.

“Why would you do that? You are refined, artistic, and gentle. You will be called to duty before you know it.”

“Really, Wallace?!” James closes his eyes, and does not open them again for the next hour.

“Give it time, Wallace. Give it time.” I hear Moretr’s voice in my head, and it cools me off somehow. We just need to push through this very painful moment.












“What CAN you do for me, James?”

“Henry, we’ve been arguing all waning moon. I can do anything for you, but to jump from a Marxist to a Royalist in one night?”

“That’s where I am, James. That’s where all my family’s investments are. Everything they ever had is with the Empire! I was dedicated AT BIRTH to the Empire! I NEED you in my boat! Help us save the Empire.”

“Jesus Christ, Henry… When we started out, all I needed to do to have you was to save your parents!”

“James, Dr. Michael wants you to save 15 million of his followers. You are not going to nickel and dime me. This is not the conversation I would like to have at 7 pm at night after a hard day’s work.”

“Maybe we need to have this discussion tomorrow, then, Henry…” James shakes his head in disbelief.

“Maybe I need to report to His Highness today. Go to the bathroom, leave your Marxist there and find a way to come back Royalist. I know you have it in you. Take your time. See you back in 15 minutes.”

Exactly 15 minutes later, James is back from the bathroom. Matushka and Lady Anne stop their work (they are just about done cleaning up after dinner). We started having dinner at the tea table by the Spiral Staircase.

Fourteen months before I arrived, there was no one on the Compound but Mr. Rubinstein, who came as soon as he could, four years prior, to help prepare the set for filming.

Jim and Sheba were first, brought from a cabin in the woods, where they were spending their “honeymoon”, fully determined to start a family. That did not work out so well :). But maybe it was not meant to be.

Three months after that Henry arrived with his retinue.

By spring Krotkie was given to James to carry him to term for MEOL (Jim did not know that then).

Then there was Isaak Milgram and Kyle Merritt.

Now the premises and surrounding woods are full of what James calls “the fat cats” (just about all the guests arrived on Demetra Visa).;
Richard is sitting on his chair with his head down, as James emerges from the bathroom, and walks by him to get on the Mood Rug.

“How long will I be chained to the Chair Of Shame, James?” Rockford says right as Jim is coming through. “Maybe I didn’t do anything to you.”

“Maybe you are not being punished for me. I saw you making out with Kate on live air while your wife was home alone.”

“Why is Smith allowed to make out with YOU, while HIS wife is home alone?” Rockford challenges Jim in a whisper.

“You darn well know why.” James looks up to Dr. Michael’s apartment windows. “Because she is not his WIFE.”

Pulling himself together after an exchange with his Alpha, James steps on the rug for it to flash and roll crimson-red with yellowish edges.

“Henry, everyone.” Jim bows theatrically. “I can’t turn from a Marxist to a Royalist in 15 minutes… Is there anything ELSE heroic I can do while this is baking?”

“Yes.” Henry is suddenly jubilant. In a mocking sort of way. James, beware… “Tigress has asked you to quit smoking.”

Jim raises his brows, and a large gray spot spreads on the rug underneath him. Gray is mostly the color of fear. It could be that your fear will be reflected on the Rug as another color, or, gray, caused by another person could mean something else, but in 89% of cases it is distrust for God’s help. Which is what fear is.

“What is next on this very difficult list?” Jim returns the reply rather quickly, his face going pale. “Surely, we have run out of the Herculean tasks for me to do…”

“I will let you decide that. EVERYONE is asking you to quit listening to “your” ego. Your weakness is costing us all… me… a lot.” Henry breaks down, falls on the bed, and rubs his face with his hands.

“Well…” James stares down at the gray turning even darker at the epicentre of his feet, outwards. It looks like a puppy pooped all over itself (having been scared shitless, I assume). “OK. Become a Royalist, quit smoking and abandon “your” ego, all in one day. Let’s isolate the sequence and write the algorithm, then.”




THE SHEPHERD’S APPRENTICE
Under Carlton-Kellspell River Sigil, and...


Chapter 131 (from 119) We Will Pass Unnoticed



                SPRING MEMORANDUM
Is meant to help me keep my Oculum safely OUT of the ego-range.
But where do you go? Father has created a safety Net for me!

Broken down into 30 sec segments:



I am NOT to leave MYSELF unattended in my head.

I am not to “look the other way”, while the dumb machine is playing Father’s Tool mindlessly (mind chat), burning through my hard-earned karmic credits, given to me by Father.

I STAY FOCUSED ON FATHER. The Purest Source Of Truth.

THIS IS WHY I make my whole team idle!
Not “because of my life” - this is what the ego IS TOLD BY ME to feed me (James, come on, fuck, wake up, do we want Henry, or not?)

I HOLD ON TO FATHER!



Too lazy to hold on to Father?
Too unfocused to keep MY (HIS) most precious Oculum ABOVE the water line?

Once unattended, I roll down -  A VERY UNPLEASANT THING WILL HAPPEN - I come within the zone of the influence of the dumb tape recorder, I SIT THERE FOR FIVE MINUTES, listening STUPIDLY.

And here I am, smoking too much again, attacking Henry.

I’M A DRUG-ADDICTED ASSHOLE not because of MY LIFE,
But because I listen to the ego!!!

Once I catch myself having “rolled down and listening”,

I PULL AWAY IMMEDIATELY

by using my green bridgeplate triage, consisting of Loyalty, Honor, Service.

I stop my sliding by placing it right where infrared turns into ultraviolet, preventing further escape.

STAY THERE until Father picks me up.

Visualise that. Take it seriously.

I MUST remember that Henry is MINE. Once I internalise him, I can’t aim to hurt him. He is always inside of me, He is hurt - I will get hurt.

The machine is programmed to believe that whoever got “more than me” Is the one to blame for my problems. SO, IT DIRECTS ME TO ATTACK THOSE “WHO GOT MORE”.

JAMES, PLEASE, WAKE UP from this poison-induced thinking!

I must be outside of the “game” now! Father is HERE. He is working on giving me back EVERYTHING I forgot I had when I took poison.

MUST STOP HURTING HENRY.
How can I think that I’m right?
This is what H.M. is doing to me, and I hate it.
But then I inflict the same upon HENRY, who is defenceless in front of me.

Jesus, the machine is making me attack MY MOST BELOVED MAN.
IT has an IQ of 14, thinking it is “helping me restore justice”. But MY IQ is 120, AND in the Presence of Father (Awakened State of Mind).

And I ALLOW MYSELF to be brainwashed like an idiot?!

HOW do I hurt Henry?

I roll down, unattended.
The machine tells me against Henry.
I allow the incorrect protocols to penetrate my psyche,
LAZY to LOOK UP to Father.
THINKING that “a bit of sweet talk from the machine can’t hurt too much”
THEN I use the Tool of Comparison to hurt my most precious Henry.
And, of course, myself.


VERY IMPORTANT:
I smoke, because I want to get relief from what the machine tells me.

Not from WHAT MY LIFE IS, but what the machine TELLS me my life is!

The less I listen to the dumb machine, the less I smoke.
These two are interdependent, and can be tied up and dealt with thusly.

As for converting from a Marxist to a Royalist? Consider it done. This is what Henry wants. Let’s get back to more important things.

HOW THE MACHINE TRIES TO SCARE ME
AND HOW TO IGNORE IT:

The machine says: IT’S THE END! YOU ARE FINISHED! IT’S ONLY GOING TO GET WORSE!

And I IGNORE the RECORDING.
I do not talk to it anymore.
It is programmed to say something it believes is true, and it wants to “help” me by saying it.
But I programmed it to keep me in the state of poisonous mind.


THEREFORE:
Whatever happens, whatever I feel - I do not come to the machine for comfort. I will only receive distorted protocols meant to make things worse.

That is why I can’t talk to the machine.
It tells me that it is my “friend”.
It tells me that it is my “strength”.

But it does not know that I loaded it with INTENTIONALLY incorrect protocols to fuck myself up.

That is why I can no longer come to the machine no matter what it says, no matter how much it calls - it is HURTFUL for me to listen to it.


I come to my ALL-POWERFUL FATHER. He can HEAL ME ALWAYS.

Every little scratch I get, the machine is trying to turn into a BIG DEAL.
It was PROGRAMMED to make me destroy my own balance.

But My Eternal and All-Powerful Father is HERE.
He will envelop me in His Light, and… here it is happening…
Father is wrapping me in His Light, and healing me COMPLETELY.

And my Lady Tigress is helping me to quit smoking. My Father wants me to.

I inhale…. I exhale….

Father is with me! He is Here.

He is giving me the SAFETY NET, where I can place my Oculum, saving it from the ego-programming.

Father says: good job on everything. However, let’s see where else you are giving the energy to the ego (in your weak, sleeping state of mind believing you are “adding strength” to yourself, but actually flushing your karmic credits down the ego-toilet).

What time of the hour, and why?
Allocating EVERY POINT of the HOUR will allow you to prevent your Oculum ending up within ego-range.

New algorithm. Run this, and you will quit hurting, and you will be looking forward to another day instead of hating or fearing it.


The Golden Staircase to Heaven, step by step:

57: Service file (science)
00: Service
15:
27: Service file (science)
30: Service
45:
57:
00:

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

6:00 am: 

10 - 11 Holy Hour:

10 57: Service file (science)
11 00: Service
11 15:
11 27: Service file (science)
11 30: Service
11 45:
11 57: Service file (science)
12 00:



12:00 pm : Vial of Loyalty

2

4:00 pm Vial of Loyalty

6


Joy is coming to me!
Reciting of fards










WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW



THE SHEPHERD’S APPRENTICE
Under Carlton-Kellspell River Sigil, and...



 CHAPTER 130 (from 119) An Event of Shallow Monoclinic Signature

(Plus four chapters in Russian on
 Proza.ru under Äæåéìñ Êåëëñïåëë
Jameskellspell
Mmikkelsen65
griffinfrank@mail.ru)

“In my world God always has the last word, not the ego. For as long as I ensure that rule, I will never be in pain.”

                James Kellspell, to me.
Then I went to the bathroom (the only private place I could find) and I cried. Apparently, I always let “my” ego win the argument in my head. This is why, as per James, I am so miserable. And not because of my age, at which, every ambulance siren in town is for you.



Cast:
James Kellspell, the Regent of MEOL
(Says here we secured the planet. We haven’t secured squat yet)
Of Levin Corporation: Lady Lion (Tia Demetra)

Under the aegis of Jaguar & Tigress

Lord Henry Carlton, Reg. J.Kellspell’s First Omega
Mr. Wallace Smith as Reg. J.Kellspell’s Personal Arkchil Operator
(And Jim’s third omega. Let’s see, it’s Henry(Krotkie), then me, yeah, third)

Mr. Richard Rockford as Reg. J.Kellspell press secretary
(He would have been Reg.J.Kellspell’s Alpha, had he not fallen from Grace)

Mr. Kyle Merritt, Lord Henry Carlton’s First Omega
St. Lady Anne (Jim cries every day with joy, she is the first one to achieve martyrdom in his team)
Mr. Isaak Milgram (drinking and eating pizza upstairs until Jim tells him why innocents suffered)
H.M., Jim’s underage son (too young to know better)
Mr. Leonard Rubinstein (wanting nothing for himself, but Krista)

With support of: Deborra and Hugh Michael Family Foundation






“Now, James, you are already within a reach and a half from the Original Source.” Albert brings up Jim’s green triage of bridgeplates under his left hand, and shows James where he is in his Journey Home.

Very close, I see in awe.
Our King is left-handed, I realize.

“And this is what the ego does.” Albert projects an image of the “microchip” with a plume of dark cloud on top of it, indicating that it contains harmful protocols.

“So, all the ego-device does is turn my negative feelings into words. My negative prisms are born of ego’s incorrect protocols.” James watches Uncle Albert draw a chart on the bridgeplate. “I must find away not to inhale the harmful protocols that come from it, then.”

“Almost like that. You are very, very close.”

“Jesus Christ, Uncle Albert, you can use Andromedan technology! So much for being from 19th century!”

Albert smiles.

“I have “ascended”, my daughter says, but I see it more like “I am back Home with God again”.

“That’s cool, Uncle Albert. Um… Mates and your… umm.. daughter… are telling me to tell you that you are my qualified boss, sir!” James suddenly wakes up to the purpose of his meeting with Uncle Albert.

Or, rather, I nudged him, Dr. Michael nodded at him, and HENRY frowned at him. It took Jim this long to wake up.   

And for a good reason. Our Uncle Albert is the most amazing one!

Albert smiles at James. He is amused.

And my heart sings. I see that Albert is no longer in pain.

“Oh, no, wait, I totally forgot why I am here!” There is panic in Jim’s voice. But luckily, he has not lost visual with us. Mr. Rockford is mouthing the words.;
“Richard knows what I must say! Let me hear!” And James sees it. “Wait… The wind, the resistance between levels is very noisy. I must hear him with my heart. He is saying: “WE ACCEPT YOU AS OUR RIGHTFUL RULER”. No, bitches, honestly, are you laughing? WTF? I seem to have translated it incorrectly the first time, sir, and the mates are having a good time at my expense!”

Being on Level 2 with me, while his mind is on Level 98, James is holding my hand, reaching out to our dearest King. I squeeze Jim’s hand in support, but he takes it as scorn.

“Wallace, so, I relayed it with a different word. “Qualified boss”, “rightful ruler”, what’s the difference? I’m a Marxist! Your royalist lingo is unfamiliar to me!”

“Shhh...” I whisper into his neck, and Jim relaxes. He will be very surprised to see  how Marxism in Russia had really morphed into longing for the Rightful Ruler.
















Henry came into our bedroom, lost and distraught. Did not say a word to me, and now he is preparing for bed. Not in his Chambers, but here. Which is totally fine, but why long face?

Matushka just finished in her rose garden, kissed studying Jim in the cheek, and went upstairs.

“I wish I was not such a procrastinator. Then I would not have to ask for “compassion” that H.M. never had and will never have for me. And why do I ask H.M. for it? I never asked HENRY for compassion!” James finishes narrating his daily emotional report, and Henry has just about had enough.

Henry literally walked in a dark cloud as the sun was going down. And he stayed like that, going through Jim’s belongings, and obviously, searching for booze and weapons behind every curtain, under every rug. And even in the garbage can.

I never know if I should access Lord Carlton’s personal Arkchil Channel, or wait until he explains himself.

“And why would you, James?” Henry interjects. “It’s not “compassion” that you want. Not two hours ago I found this bottle of whiskey underneath your bed!” Henry lifts the half-finished bottle of “Uncle Nearest” in front of Jim’s face. “All you care about is wait till nightfall to get hammered out of your mind, and you leave me, Wallace, Richard, and all of us to pick up the pieces!”

Discovered, Jim shows no fear, embarrassment, or hesitation, and goes straight for the counter-attack.

“You mentioned yourself twice, Henry…“ Some people FINISH with a punchline. James starts with it. “I will tell you why I get hammered every night. How much money have you made this year?”

Henry is taken aback by Jim’s aggressiveness, and lack of remorse, but pulls himself together nevertheless.

“It’s not about the money, James! We have bigger fish to fry!” Lord Carlton moves to the bed, peels off the electrical blanket, and fluffs up the pillows.

“Henry, I love you. I do.” James catches his First Spouse from behind. “But…”

“But what? Tell me more.” Henry’s deep voice breaks. He is now fixing the sheets on our bed, studying Jim’s place, staring at the outline of his body in crumpled dark-blue, while not letting go of Jim’s bottle of Uncle Nearest.

James rubs his face on Henry’s back, then grabs his hips in a subduing, powerful motion, making Henry bend over.

And Henry is a large man. Every time I watch them, I see David going after Goliath.

Goliath just folds, waiting to be undressed, taken, ravaged.

“I love you, Henry… But…”

Jim straightens up and walks around the bed to face Henry.

“…but I need my bottle back.”

And for half an hour, in the darkening back yard, James sits and drinks the whiskey, impeded by no one.

Half an hour later, Henry comes out with a reconciliatory pack of cigarettes. Henry may be aggressive, but he is an omega, just like me. And “reconciliation” is our middle name.

Henry dares not say a word, and they sit there a while longer.;
“You are right, it is not about money.” James finally says. He is very drunk, but he speaks rather coherently. “God strike me down, if I ever cared about money in life. It is about BEING RESPECTED and NEEDED, Henry. You are spending your life being RESPECTED AND NEEDED, and I’m spending my life being beaten every day.”

Henry lifts his head and looks at me through the sliding glass door.

I shake my head. What can I say? I myself got in trouble today. I almost got hit in the face for saying that if Jim was my pregnant wife, I’d get on my knees every day and kiss his belly.

James can’t imagine his partner being this  nice, unless he wants sex. He told me to shut up before he hit me. He accused me of saying these sweet things just to taunt him. Such life does not exist, he said. Such men do not exist. Such men do not exist, he repeated with a challenge. And if they do exist, what good does it do for me, he added bitterly. I’m locked in the Covenant with a man who knows no compassion.”

Here he goes again.

“I was told by God, that I must uphold the Covenant I signed with this man. Only death can end my suffering, then. Since I can’t wish for HIM to be dead, then I wish for myself to be dead. That is why I get hammered every night, that is why, Henry. I’m just killing time waiting to be dead, thus, free from the Covenant with this man. Therefore, no more pain, that comes from this enormous motherfucking henchman I am being forced to deal with. In this scenario I have nothing to look forward to but my early demise. Hopefully, early. But, as it goes, this may last for another good fifteen years. I am sentenced to another fifteen years of this cross. Remember the joke about the nun’s arthritis? Jesus was on the cross for only three hours.”

“What happens when the night is over, and you must go to bed? Lay by my side with dragon breath, James?”

“About that, Henry. You precisely pinpointed the moment when alcohol ends and reality begins. Again. Thank you. Like I said. No one gives a shit as to WHY I drink. Everyone wants me to be composed, sober and useful on the set. And I will be. Come morning, Henry, I will be.”




















Once I feel ego-programming coming in:
INCORRECT CONNECTION: Took my eyes off His Beautiful Face…
Incorrect connection BLOCKED (Loyalty-Honor-Service Bridgeplate)
CORRECT CONNECTION RESTORED: I am now looking in the Eyes of my Father











“The ego-acid fills the void created by ME NOT BEING FILLED WITH YOU. It is when I FORGET WHO WE ARE TO EACH OTHER, and stop looking into Your Eyes.

Then I get filled up with ego-poison. Like rain gushing from above. When that happens, and I drown in bitterness, I do not talk to it, I do not yell at it, I water-proof (ego-proof) my house.

The protocol to ego-proof your house is three green bridgeplates: “LOYALTY - HONOR -SERVICE”. Make a copy, shift to the right, press down, and the 80mph wind blows the tape recorder with ego-programming in the chamber way the fuck out of your moment. Flush the ego-protocol OUT of your MOMENT. You deprive it of the control over you. Then start a NEW moment by LOOKING into God’s Eyes, and listening to HIS interpretation of reality, not the ego-interpretation.”

Jim is talking quietly into his bridgeplate, doing a class with Uri Kumlatov, as he sits in bed with Henry sleeping by his side. It is 8 am in the morning.

“We are invited for a breakfast in the dining room.” I announce.

“Tiho! Genri prigrelsa.” Jim answers, patting his precious Royal mate’s head on the pillow by his side. My bridgeplate gives the translation directly from his mind, relaying not just words, but also the speaker’s mood. It means: “Quiet! Henry got cozy here with me after I fucked him. I must hold him, and give him love and warmth, and reassure him, that he is never alone on his path. Then and only then will I get up and eat.”

“I watched “The Mauritanian” yesterday.” I say just to make small talk. “Could you survive something like that and not kill yourself?”

“I have ten minutes until my next class.” James jerks with his whole body at the sound of my voice. There is THIS MUCH tension in him. “I tried to drown myself in the pool in a million dollar house, while eating what I wanted, and drinking, and smoking all the drugs I could have. Just to give you an idea of the level of my adversity tolerance. I might not need Guantanamo to want to off myself. In other words, I am NOT a martyr material!”

Am I? Am I “martyr material’?

I guess, the question is not “how do you survive it”, but, rather, “why”.

“But if you had to, would you try and not kill yourself? What would be your incentive?”

“Man, “if I had to”… Why? Who says I have to survive it? Certainly, I would not care to survive it just to “get back to my home country and see my family again”. That’s not an incentive for me. My family is what I escaped. There will never be any understanding there. Good riddance. So, if I got caught in a dragnet, and I’m innocent, and I was being held… Wallace, come on. I am in SO MUCH PAIN already that I am ALWAYS one step away from a complete breakdown. I do not need to be tortured for 14 years to bring me down. I am already so fucking down, all they needed to do was yell at me once, and I’d make a rope out of sheets and hang myself that night. So, honestly, I don’t even know why you’re bringing this up WITH ME. Now, if you excuse me, I have a lesson with Mielada.”

But there is no connection. James goes on Level 1, tries and tries and tries. H.M. comes in and tells him - no internet today. James is pissed. He is looking at me with tired eyes.

Henry gets up, and gets dressed.

“Fuck! I need to teach English to the kid, and I can’t get through!!!” James growls. “Henry, have you watched this movie called “Mauritanian”?.

“No”. Lord Carlton runs his hand through his hair and goes to the bathroom.

James eyes Henry’s formidable, enviable physique.

“Would you survive something like that?” James throws at Henry’s back.

“I have to get ready for the interview.” Henry answers from the bathroom, and then all we can hear is door slamming, and shower being turned on.

“What’s up HIS ass?” James sighs.
















“And by ‘a project to look forward to’ I mean exactly that. Someone somewhere needs my writing skills. Someone, somewhere.”

“I see.” Henry’s eyes are intensely red. He was out all day, and he was crying.

I know where he was, but James does not. Kellspell may be upset now, but IF he finds out where Henry went, he will go ballistic.

“I must thank you for the “bone” you threw me from your table.” James smiles, and hugs Henry from behind. “I mean it in a good way. It was a very tasty bone. The British project lasted me all winter. You let me FEEL London, you let me EXPERIENCE being NEEDED. Well, all this is coming to an end. It will be over in one month. And I need to get used to the idea, that there are no more projects to look forward to. I must learn looking forward to getting old. A least for the next year. I say there will be a gap for one year. One year. Another year of non-stop pain and tears with my mentally ill son. He is getting better, though. He is. But I am facing another year of this. With nothing to look forward to but H.M.’s psychotic episodes. Do you understand that? No Grace in my life, just pain. Mine, AND his.”

And Henry understands that. He is crying again, but quietly, and with his back to James. “Whatever Grace you think I have, take some.”

“I can’t do that.” James shakes his head. “We both must learn to be patient. Prince Moretr is the only one who can touch the inner workings of this Mission.”

At the mention of Prince Moretr Henry winces, but remains silent. Only I know why.

James places his hands on Henry’s shoulders, and then runs his hand through Henry’s sweet short blond curls.

“How much longer can you wait?” Henry closes his eyes, enjoying Jim’s touch.

“I have a strong feeling I am in for 6 more months in Genesis 17, and then 6 more months back in Malachite Constellation” James shrugs dismissively. “… before any good news will come my way. I will be 48 by then.”

“That’s bullshit.” Henry sighs.

“It is.” James agrees. “I just made it up. It is easier for me to look into the future through this frame. This way I know, that if nothing else comes my way for a year, then, at least, I will have earned a right to have another psychotic episode about how all I am doing is suffering and looking forward to old age.”

“It should not be this way.” Henry shakes his head vigorously, and pulls a tissue from his pocket.

“But it is not as painful this way. NOT to look forward to anything cool. Just take it day by day. Follow through with my responsibilities. Drink because I must, smoke because it makes it easier, eat, and feel no taste of food. Then, sit there, and both fear and hope for some medical condition that will finally end this for me. Because, like this old joke goes, Jesus was on the cross for only three hours. I’ve been on it for 47 years. It will be 48 next year, and from there it will be a nice easy ride over the hill.”

“I want to find you before you become pickled in your own blood and tears.”

“I can say the same about you.” James smiles, and rubs Henry’s shoulders. “Of all of us you got the most Grace, but in five years since I knew you, I have not seen you have a single sincere smile, and all you do is cry. I mean, if THIS is how Grace tastes, then fuck it.”

“Two weeks ago, when you tried to break up with me by letter, you said that “I was enjoying my life”. Henry wipes his face with his hands. James is really making him suffer, and I can feel how strained he is.

“I’m sure you do, every now and then. But 70% of the time you are inside of your head thinking very depressed thoughts. I guess, my percentage is about the same.” James sticks his nose in Henry’s neck, and underneath the collar of his shirt, and inhales with a blissful expression.

“I want to help you.” Henry weeps quietly, his shoulders shuddering. But he stops briefly, absorbing the caress James lavishes upon his lovely Royal mate. “I want to share my “Grace” with you. I just don’t know how.”

“I appreciate that. Question is, why do you feel compelled to share your Grace with anyone? Why did you choose a loser like ME? You knew I was severely underserved. You knew I was chained to a mentally ill man by the Covenant I was not allowed to break. You knew my fate. Therefore, it was relatively easy to predict that I was going to whine about how unequal we are. Had you chosen someone of YOUR OWN level, Henry…”

“Please, James, you are hurting me…” Henry whispered, crumpling a piece of wet tissue his hands.

“You are hurting yourself, Henry. We would not be having this moronic convo about how my bowl only ever had three cereal bits in it, two of which I have already eaten, and yours is overflowing with more than you could ever eat… If you haven’t chosen me. When you chose me, you KNEW I was under a very heavy Covenant, didn’t you? What did you think was going to happen when you sent Krotkie to me?”

“James…” Henry closes his eyes, and throws his head back. “If you whipped me, I’d be in less pain.”

“That is the idea.” James nods confidently. “We will continue. Did you know I made Krotkie apologise for every cereal bit he had in his bowl? Did you know I wanted to kick him out more than once for being “Special In The Eyes Of God”, while I believed that I was not? Did you know how quietly he laid at my feet during my psychotic episodes when I’d shoot into photographs of my more successful colleagues? The only reason yours was not next in line was simply because you were not in the field of my view. And then, gradually, you were. That only leads me to a conclusion that you are a pain junkie, and a sucker for punishment. That’s why you are here. You are here for me to sink my teeth into you.”

Henry can’t take it anymore, he gets up abruptly, and runs out to the back yard.

"Mr Milgram!” Lord Carlton yells with his head up. “Give me something to hit myself with!”

James remains sitting on the bed with his eyes staring right in front of him, where Henry just sat.

A minute later Milgram’s apartment window opens, and some object wrapped in a bed sheet is thrown out.

I am terrified of what this might be. For all I know, Milgram in his grief cut off his finger, or something, and THIS is what we will find in the “package”.

Lord Carlton runs across the lawn, and picks up the wrapped object. Please, let this not be something gruesome.

An envelope falls out of it, with the name KRISTA on it in large letters.

Henry walks back and hands the envelope to James. He sniffs it, then unseals it carefully, and pulls out a note. He, then, drops the note and pins Henry to the wall with an irate stare.

“You did what? Is this true? Henry? HENRY!!! Why didn’t you talk to me first!!!???”

Oh? What is it that Milgram knows that pissed Jim off this much?

I pick up the note. It says: “Kellspell, you stupid fuck, Carlton is playing you, as always. He was at Moretr’s today and begged him to have mercy on you and give you another project to work on this summer.”

Apparently I was not the only one who knew where Henry spent almost all day today.

“James…” Henry takes a deep breath and unwraps the rest of the package, while looking at his mate imploringly.

“You went to Prince Moretr on my behalf? So, now I know what it is! I am a charity case for you, am I?! How long did you talk to him for, and what did you say?!!”

“I have talked to him today for many hours.” Henry admits, choking on his tears. “I asked him to consider what a good man you have become, and to ease your conditions.”

“Oh yeah? What do you care?” James shakes his head vigorously, as if trying to come to terms with what is going on. “Why is this aristocrat interested in wanting to improve the life of some dumb commoner, this is beyond me, Henry! What is your problem? Go enjoy your special life! Leave me to my grief, and my heavy Covenant! You can’t help me. Save yourself!”

At hearing that, Henry drops the bedsheet on the floor, and in his hands we see a bottle of dark amber whiskey. Lord Carlton pulls the cork out, and drinks.

Jim’s jaw drops and watches Henry in silent astonishment.

“Argg..” Henry stops between burning gulps. “What happened to “Red Label”?

“Mr. Milgram has switched from “Red Label” to “Uncle Nearest”. James finally gathers his scattered wits. “We both agree that it is a politically correct choice. The rest of you will drink what we give you to drink.”

“Thank you. Agreed.” Henry brushes the subject off.

“What did Moretr say?” James gets over the shock of Henry’s “betrayal”, and his public drinking. He is now curious.

“He said that ‘James will make a great teacher’.” Henry wipes his mouth with his hand, which I have never seen him do before, and hands the bottle to Richard, on his chair.

“Did he say when?”

“When the time comes. When you are ready.” Henry says as Richard drinks silently behind them.

James and Henry both sit on the bed side by side and do not say another word.

“Richard!” I whisper to Mr. Rockford. “Don’t be a pig. Pass me bottle, will ya?”



Interview topics:

“Blood Brothers”
Delano, Minnesota, 11 day hunger strike













“The rising moon, my Prince…” James is on the bed, with his head thrown back on the pillows. “Please tell me why I should not confront H.M. about being a rude motherfucker in bed? How is he going to learn to treat me better if I never told him what ails me? I needed to go to the bathroom, and he just lashed out at me. Why do I have to take it? I could talk to him.”

“You could.” Moretr nods.

“Then I will.” James gets up, hits his bridgeplate, and fades out.

And he did. Two hours later, he is back from Level 1, very drunk, but somewhat brighter.

“He apologised.” James says, bringing up his bridgeplate at his right hand.

“Good.” I respond, working on three things at once. One being going through Jim’s archival info for certain things I was asked to find.

“It is good, and I feel better. But it only changes things this much. I must study, but I have zero drive today. Too drunk. So I need to kill four hours before this day is over. The best way to do it is sit here and whine about how the British project will end in one month, and after that it is back to taking care of the mental patient, round the clock. Nothing else to look forward to.”

“Join the club.” I hate myself as I say it. But, surprisingly, shooting up NES-sp drug like that is acceptable here. Sheba, with all her professional approach to her job would indulge in wallowing in self-pity, especially on the rising moon. Jim would never miss an opportunity to join her.

“You are thinking about Sheba.” James notes. “We need a table here. So I could cry on it.” he makes a square motion with his hands at the foot of the bed.

“Use Matushka’s tea table.”

“She cried there today.” James sighs. “I am afraid of the multiplied depression. You know that compound depression is mind’s worst oppression?”

“Then cry here.” I suggest.

Jim sits on the bed, then goes and sits on the rug. It flashes dirty reddish-yellow.

“Why did she cry?” James asks me with his eyes closed.

“Dr. Michael advised her that death on Level 2 feels just as terrifying as on Level 1. He told her how he asked you and Krotkie to whip him to death just to see how it would feel here. You remember any of that?”

“U-huh.” Jim exhales and looks for his cigarettes. “We took turns, and I was dead tired, and half an hour later Dr. Michael still had heartbeat. But then Krotkie finished him, he is incomparably stronger than me. Do you realise what hard work that is to whip a man? Your hand literally goes numb. I wish I could smoke!!!”

Tigress ordered all his cigarettes removed for today. He smoked a whole pack while crying, drinking, and yelling in Russian in front of Isaak Milgram’s windows.

“Did Matushka cry about that?” He finally says, resigned to the fact that his cigarettes were taken away from him.

“No. Dr. Michael observed your psychotic episode yesterday, and told her that it was too dangerous for her to have any activities around you, on this floor. He reminded her of his dying experience on Level 2, and he did not want to see her experience the same. Granted, not getting whipped, but getting shot by you is a vivid possibility. This is when she cried. She refused to leave you. She made a decision not to wrap up her activities here. She said if anyone can pull her out of her depression, it would be you.”

James is silent now. That shut him up.

Knowing that sometimes others can only carry on when they rely on him makes him more stable. He would play with his own life, but not with the lives of those who surrendered to him.

Comes Richard Rockford. “Whoever wants to have dinner, Matushka and Lady Anne made English clam chowder. Can I borrow a cigarette from you, Mr. Kellspell?”

“No, Mr. Rockford. Tigress told Jaguar to take them from me.”

“Tomorrow is another day.” Richard whispers and sits on his chair.

He is not the only one in a lot of pain today. Or tomorrow. I could use a cigarette, too.

James, sitting with his back to me:

“Wallace, are you crying?”

“No, James.”

“I hear teardrops hitting the floor at the rate of twenty a minute. You sound like a leaky bucket.”

The laughter can be heard from the kitchen.

Everyone is laughing at me. I take a breath, and pretend to study the colours on my bridgeplate, while my heart squeezes and shakes like a lost dog on a snowy night.










“In the morning I am the weakest. The machine whines and whines about what I do not have, and how I am being hurt, or some event that is coming, and I must fear it… and it TOTALLY DISMISSES what I already have and the help I am given.” James takes a deep breath, laying on the bed, as Moretr stands over him, superimposed over the bed AND James.

“What do you tell it?”

“Go away, it is not true, God loves me and he will help me.” I say to it.

“What does it respond?”

“Oh!” James brushes it off. “I do not want to tell you, because it is NOT TRUE. But what it says SOUNDS true, and I am IN SO MUCH PAIN!”

“Please, tell me.” Moretr insists.

Jim hisses like a cat, whose tail got squeezed in the door.
“It is about the upcoming trip to Key West… H.M. has been raving for years that he wants to “fix things symbolically” by going to K.W., where we had an epic fight way back when we first were married. H.M. is ok, but “his” ego is very heavy. I have to drag HIM AND “his” ego. I KNOW you will be with me, but I am terrified of the K.W. trip we are going to take.”

“Why?” Moretr places his hand above Jim, and waves it there and back, determining the level of Jim’s contamination this morning with the poison of the machine.

“When losing his internal balance, H.M. lets “his” ego torment me, and treat me like crap. Quite a bit has changed in his programming since the days we got in that famous fight on Key fucking W. in his father’s Mercedes, but I wish I was more protected from “his” ego. If only just with drugs/painkillers.”

Moretr nods, and talks to ghostly shadows to his right.

“What pisses me off the most, is why would he remember JUST THAT FIGHT, when we fought throughout the entire East coast, beginning with Boca Raton, and Del Ray, not just on KeyW.!!!”

“I am tracing this, James. I do care. I will do my best to help you.”

“So, I dread the trip, and the machine AMPLIFIES THAT. This is where my fear of hurt is coming from. After Jaguar and Tigress’s story I no longer feel that I was given the hardest of fates (truly, there are plenty of others whose lot is incomparably harder than mine). But I am the one of the receiving end of H.M.’s ego-caused negative moods.”

“Tell me more, please.”

“He gets belligerent so quickly! Me, too, OK, but this thought does me no good - he is going to let “his” ego torment me during the trip.”

“How can we get through it, James?”

“We will! Time goes on, carries us with it, that’s how. But three days! God help me. When I dreamt of going on trips with the man I loved, in those dreams he was not a cruel, heartless psychopath who only gave me compassion when he wanted to have sex with me. Other cases? Do without, bitch. It hurts. His attitude hurts. And then he expects me to put out like a rubber doll, and forget how just two days ago, he deprived me of his compassion.”

“Would you like to have breakfast now?”

“I would, but I called you so I you could help me cleanse from the enormous anxiety and fear I am experiencing. The trip is in three days, and I know it is pointless to talk about it with him, to tell him how much anxiety I have. He is not going to listen, and then we will collapse into a fight, because I will get triggered… And talking ahead does no good. He can’t control “his” ego. He goes mad when it tells him to go mad…”

“I am working on it, James. But you need to get ready for school.”

“Yes, my Prince. But I have twenty minutes left. I must spill this, or I can’t even study. I am in so much internal pain right now!!!”

I see a transparent outline of an Arkabin approaching Moretr.
“Please get a hold of Commander Kumlatov. James is going to be late for school today.”

The Arkabin nods and leaves through the Spiral Staircase room.

James stretches on the bed, hating allowing the machine’s poison in, but he feels that he does not have a choice.

“Also, I know I will get nowhere with this, but I must tell you that “my” ego accuses you of intentionally holding back my medicine.”

“I am all ears, James.” Moretr nods encouragingly.

“You told me to empty out the “emergency” bags of blue ksill, when I need to. I am doing it. I must relay to you, how uncomfortable I am with the dwindling supplies, though. My worry gets amplified by the stupid, and then I get this unpleasant feedback from the Stupid. And I’m like: wait a minute, this is how I feel, yes! This is how the chain works…”

“Thank you, James. I can see every protocol the stupid is feeding you.”

“But why is this happening, my Prince? I thought you told me that there will be no shortage of medicine. I was never meant to get into the emergency pouch! Of the two of them, I have ALREADY gone through ONE, and by the time he looks there again, I will have to come up with a lame story that that “pouch was already opened” and almost empty.” He is going to get bent out of shape over this. And, if that was not enough, the second pouch will be empty very soon, too. Possibly even before this assignment is over. I would like to understand the reasons behind this hardship. The dry spell has been going on FOR WEEKS! There is no bloody way the town is that dry, even during the spring break. The ûåãçøâ ego is telling me to blame M, the ego thinks she is either sabotaging me, or I must admit that she is not trying hard enough. I thought it was never going to come to that. I know you have increased my wine intake to two glasses a day. Once I run out of ksill, I will ask for three glasses to manage pain, as a stop-gap measure until we get back to Genesis 17.”

“We are looking into it right now, James. Please, relax. Your field has darkened. Push the machine out. KNOW that we are here to help. Hold on. I am called to an urgent matter in Nasarat City. We will finish it when you are back from school. Please get up and get dressed. Commander Kumlatov is waiting for you.”

Moretr disappears, leaving me with James. But no longer alone. Sheba was always talking how sometimes she had to deal with delirious James “completely alone”.

Jim’s face is a mask of suffering. Oh, Gosh. Her we go.

“There is no bloody way his men can’t get more ksill!!” James screams hoarsely, his head rolling on the pillows. Moretr had to leave in such an inappropriate moment.

But, the civil war, we understand. Some relative of his must have been “turned off” by the Sheiredis.

I fear my mate is entering a psychotic episode.

“What is behind it? Why am I made to suffer without my medicine?” James gets up, and then slams his head against the pillow.



Richard was finally given a chair to sit on. This is where he sits, with his back to our bedroom closet, his chair positioned exactly at the line where the wall used to be. He sits there, facing the sliding back door, and Matushka’s activity, with the Spiral Staircase at his three o’clock. Richard is with his head down, so I do not see the expression on his face, as he is to my right.

Henry is standing behind the curtain, watching James most intently. He has been all along.

I stand by Jim’s bed with the bridgeplate hanging under my right hand, and my phone in the pocket of my dressing gown.

Yesterday I finally overcame every barrier in my mind, and showed James my feet. To my shock, he loved it. He pushed me to the bed, and squeezed, and hugged me, excited and high on emotion.

I hate my failing body, my hands, my feet - so old, so ugly.

But James sees something else in me. I mean, besides Samantha. He said he fell in love with me the day his Israeli boyfriend Banazir showed him my photograph, as he was preparing to leave James for me.

It does not get any weirder than that. From that day on James could not get ME out of his mind. So when Banazir finally left, James longed for both Banazir, AND ME.

He, then, buried his feelings for both of us “in the same grave”, as James described it, and tried to forget about it. Eighteen years later, here I am. James did not want to let me in first, but then he simply opened the gate, and we both got flooded by his feeling of love for me.

Celebrating the breaking of yet another barrier between us, James played with me, and then he sat still, listening to my soul. To my soul, and to the heartbeat in the cell of stone, where I’m locked up.

I told him, that I see how he must have been in love with me THEN. But it was almost twenty years ago, and I am old now. I have bags of old pain, bags under my eyes, and even my clothes are baggy nowadays…

“Twenty years, two hundred tears,
You are still the same, and I love to say your name!” James responded, and kissed my dried-up old man lips with such deep feeling, as if he was kissing the most handsome man in the world…

Jim moves a bit on the bed, and his face is now distorted in anger, and suspicion.

“What do you say, Wallace? “My” ego says Moretr’s men are told to lay quiet, and not bring me any medicine, see what I do when I run out. Right? Do you agree with “my” ego, Wallace?”

To disagree with “his” ego is to piss him off now. To agree with “his” ego is to hurt Prince Moretr, AND everyone else.

I count to three. For there is a third jeopardy. To say the wrong thing is to push James over the edge, and down he goes. He will scream, hit his head against the wall, yell profanities, conjure a gun and shoot into the walls, regardless of who is around… He will also shoot into Isaak Milgram’s window just to taunt him. Hey, I have a gun and you don’t!

I must say the right thing.

But, alas. I do not have a choice. I only have one line, and it was pre-determined. It was written before I set a single step of my ugly old man feet onto this stage.

“Wallace!” James turns to me, his eyes bloodshot, an insane smile stretching his lips. “What do you say?!”

Matushka puts down her gardening equipment, and parts her lips to remind me my line.

Henry, who stood behind the curtain in his Chambers, pushes his face in the opening of the curtains and mouths my line.

But I do not want to say this line. I want this to move on, continue without interruptions. I want James to undress me, push me on the bed again, and make love to me.



“James, you are late for school.”


















Excerpts from Jim’s personal channel (his private notes):

“How not to get into arguments with your friends, and why do they argue with you? (How frustrating! Do you remember the last time you argued with your close friend?)”

“Who are you? You are the Jewel that fell out of the Crown of God. Who am I? The same. I long to go back. Do you?”

“We used to be ONE. Now, shattered, we are like ants in the dark, each with a flashlight, “protected” by the ego from re-joining. We can only see what the small flashlight of our view can deliver into our brains. Each sees their own picture OF THE SAME THING, but the ego misinterprets it for us, to prevent us from putting the puzzle back together.

Why? Because it was programmed to know - GOD AND YOU are TOGETHER on that picture. And the ego was tasked to keep you away from God. For this is what you wanted. Time to wake up to the Face of the Loving Father.

“Where are we? We are exactly where we used to be - in God. But after eating the “poisonous apple” that caused the Big Bang… Here we are, having lost our memory about who we REALLY are. Also, WHERE WE STILL ARE...

Each of the shards now trying to find their own, guided by the distorted programming of the ego (the “flashlight” of our limited scope of view).

All for naught. Why? What you find for yourself will crumble, for it is not real. It is a part of this illusion.

The only thing that will not crumble is God, who gives the Eternal Love. You’ve heard that before, but, possibly, you have no idea how to achieve either. I know how to achieve both. But I will not tell you. For I am the Jewel that came back into the Crown. Now I am bound by the Crown’s Law. I only speak when it is safe. When it will not lead to conflict. If my words may cause conflict, I am silent.”

“Note: With Ariel Matthew: make sure that the “wood” of new info is constantly thrown into the fire of the conversation. He freaks out every time he hears me silent on the other side. With Merion, however, you MUST give that pause, to let him process what you’ve already said. A completely opposite approach to the conversation. Talking to Merion almost every day, you get used to one style, and then Ariel, done talking, yells at you: “JAMES! CAN YOU HEAR ME? WHY ARE YOU SO QUIET THERE??!!” And I’d be like - dude, it hasn’t even been one second since you stopped talking. But he is jittery. He is afraid of silence.”

“I see you accessing Kellspell’s channel, Wallace.” Dr. Michael gets off the Spiral Staircase with gardening gloves for Matushka.

“I am his Personal Arkchil Operator. I have a right.” I respond, sitting in bed with the bridge plate hanging to my left, and my phone to my right.

Here in Jim’s bed, on his spot, it is the most energy-saturated place, and my bridgeplate is the brightest.

“True that.” Dr. Michael slides the backdoor open and places the gloves on the concrete pad. Then he comes back into the bedroom. “I was just making an observation. I saw your head going up and down. Up high, then down low, your eyes closed, biting your lips with a pained expression. As in: I wish I knew all this before. I would not have been as hurt.”

“You don’t know it yet, neither would you care, but I just lost everything.”



“Whatever you lost, was never yours. Whatever God gave you is still with you. If you are in pain, you may be looking at the situation with the ego-prism.”









“Feel the time slowing down. This is what will fix everything, James. Watch: all the things you thought were irreparable, can be fixed by slowing down the time, as you are emerging vertically from your most painful parallel-moving dream.”

                Prince Moretr to James during the psychiatric sessions

“Your head is completely empty due to the effects of poison you took to wake up here, not because you have “no previous history”. You have tons of “previous history” while in the Arms of God. Then you took poison and crashed into a dream sequence. Therefore sped-up perception of time.”

James, to me, as to “why people do not remember anything that happened to them before they were born here”. I, in fact, do remember quite clearly. But he was just using me as general audience, bouncing his conclusions off me.














“Yeah, so, besides that, My Prince, I am continuing to face my addiction dragons/issues. Recently we here on the set had an unpleasant incident involving me propositioning to a patient for sex.”

“I’m sure it was a misunderstanding.” Moretr says soothingly.

“Yeah, well, in a way. I caught myself in my shameful predating behaviour again. While I promised to Dr. Michael, that he and his wife were my last victims… Then I broke into Mr. August’s house, I did. I thought I was done, and here shows up this incredibly handsome gentleman, and intro’s himself as Albert, Tigress’s father. Henry here should know better, but he collapses in the throes of “worshipping his king”. Wallace to my left is with his head buried in his phone watching his stalking footages, Mr. Rockford to my right, is chewing on my underwear. I feel like dumb and dumber with these two, and not 36 hours AFTER the incident I realise ALL THREE were supposed know better.

“Better than what?” Moretr smiles at James as his bridgeplate lights up red and yellow.

“Better than hoping that he is our LONG-AWAITED Alpha!” James makes a large, all encompassing gesture with his hands.

“OK, please continue.”

“So, as I was drowning in the man’s incredibly lovely blue eyes, I mean, come on, they don’t make them this handsome anymore! As I’m at it, Wallace and Richard finally notice what is going on.” James makes a dramatic pause.

It starts to rain outside. Which is the first time I saw this happen ever since I arrived (5 months ago). But then it was December, when I arrived.

“To my utmost shock, they drop their porn and they are on their knees kissing the man’s shoes. I stand there and I’m like, God Almighty, what am I seeing? My mind, overloaded with a constant search for a right sexual partner for me and Henry, says: bitches, this is a rough top, and he will be mine. Am I right in my thinking, or what?”

Moretr is waiting for James to answer his question.

“You stand there, minding your own beeswax, comes a handsome dude, your mates fall to their knees and start rolling on the floor like cats in heat. Right? You do not waste your time, you do not let the opportunity slip away. You go for him. Omegas are everywhere, betas are to manage them. But Alphas? Alphas are their price in Rhodium. Grab them before other unions will.”

“Very well.” Moretr takes a look to the pouring rain outside, and here is a bottle half full of whiskey that breaks Isaak Migram’s window from the inside, and flies to the lawn surrounded by shards of broken glass.

“And I go for it. I say: “Sir, there’s got to be a reason as to why my homies are groveling at your feet. We are in a desperate search of an Alpha. Say, could you top three men a night?” Jim goes on, too deeply inside of himself to notice anything. I continue to watch Milgram’s window, half-fearing he will be flying out next.

“This is where… I kid you not!” James jumps up, and a pack of cigarettes falls to the floor out of his pocket. Wallace, Matushka and me wince. “Albert collapses into my arms, my Prince! Tigress runs up, helps me put him on the bed, and tells me her father has been through a lot, and needs my help.”

Matushka can’t take the suspense anymore, and she goes outside, as if to tend to her rain-soaked roses, but, in fact, she goes to watch out for Mr. Milgram, possibly, attempting suicide.

“I remember that we are still a field hospital, and the injured souls continue to arrive.” Jim plows on, looking down at his bare feet. Come to think of it, he’s got cute feet even in his male avatar. “This is where I experience an immense feeling of remorse, and i remind myself that people see me as a doctor, and they bring me their sick friends and relatives. And I can’t prey upon those sick relatives.” Jim finishes with a sigh.

“What can yo tell me about Albert’s state?” Moretr glances one more time at the window, and focuses all of his attention on James. If Milgram was planning to throw himself out of the window, and Moretr knew that, we’d never know, for a Grehedi needs no phone to call for a backup. He sends a mental order to his people.

“Albert is pretty shattered, my Prince. But he is marginally better than Kyle. And by “marginal”, I mean it. Kyle had not been up in two months, since Henry was exiled. But now our most beloved Henry is back. And Kyle is still down. Lady Anne continues to care for him. I am truly grateful for my “nurse”. I’d lose my mind caring for all of them alone.”

This is where I see Matushka run right back into the house, slamming the sliding door behind herself, and towards the Spiral Staircase.

Lady Anne is descending slowly down it, preceded by drops of blood that fly through the iron-wrought rails of the stairs. He is holding her left hand upwards, and her middle finger is a bloody mess.

Matushka comes to hold Anne’s shaking body. “What happened, talk to me, honey!!”

“I went to deliver pizza to Mr. Milgram. He heard me knock and he shot through the door. My hand…” Lady Anne does not finish, and goes into shock. Matushka eases her to the floor.

James jumps up to touch her to block her pain. He can only influence her brain if he is in immediate proximity. He is not allowed to use his abilities, or even talk about them, but for such emergency cases.

Wallace and I stay back, while Richard helps Matushka hold Lady’s Anne’s head, blood running in deep rivulets from her hand.

“Let me help her.” Moretr comes before James, who nods with deep satisfaction. The REAL doctor is on the premises.




5 o’clock tea. A table was brought, and placed by the window that faces to our backyard with Matushka’s roses.



“It’s not his fault…” James sighs, bowing his head at Tigress’s feet. She is sitting with her face to the rose garden, formerly our lawn, but Matushka has been taking more and more of the lawn, and converting it into rows of blood red roses.

“How so?” Tigress asks.

“Mr. Milgram and I go way back. The year is {censored} alaetar mlaste. One dark rainy night Milgram comes into my room in the Grey Building, and asks me: “So, how do people get hurt in this world?” I said “It depends on the proximity to God. The farther from God you are, the more you get hurt.” James nods yo himself, and drinks greedily from his cup. It is empty in one second.

“What did Mr. Milgram say?”

“I see” He said all gloomy, like that, and looking back now, I should have become alerted. “What if you get hurt in the safest of places, like a church? Directly under God’s Watchful Eye?” That’s what Milgram said back in the Grey Building.”

“Did you give him a satisfying answer?” Tigress motions for Lady Anne to pour her, and James, more tea.


“On the contrary, my Lady. I did not have an answer to that. And after awile of staring out my window, he left. He started drinking then. He never stopped. And he hurt many people. His wife, his kids… It’s all because I could not answer him at the time. That is why he is here. I paid for his ass to be here, and Lady Anne has achieved martyrdom so she could care for patients like… Like Isaak Milgram, bless his soul. Please go easy on him, my Lady… He is distraught over the innocents that got hurt in there.”

“I am going to ask him go trim hedges at least part of the day. He can’t sit there drinking ALL DAY anymore, James.” Tigress shakes her head slowly. “I also ordered to have YOUR gun taken away from him.”

“I did not give it to him, he stole it from me.”

“And you did nothing to retrieve it, even as you, yourself, was threatened with it.”

“Um… I brushed it off. I held people at gunpoint, too, I shot at people’s photographs, I shot myself… Jeez… So, Lady Anne got her middle finger shot off… H.M. once dropped the fountain on my middle finger, and then, not two weeks later, the dumbasses/Level 1 dropped the golf cart on the same hand. Wah!” James makes a sudden exploding motion with his hands. “My finger is smashed all the way to the bone! Again! Meat all exposed, blood everywhere…”

“Did you go to the emergency room?”

“Nah, I wrapped it in a plantain leaf, smoked a lot of blue ksill and fucked Krotkie. Having sex with a sweet omega usually cures my blues.”

Not a single muscle twitches on Tigress’s face as Jim unloads expletives and lewd details.

“All this will stop, Mr. Kellspell.”

“Totally, my Lady. That is the whole idea. We were in a dire need of a rough top.”

“Thatched roof is a rough top, Mr. Kellspell. Please speak proper English.”

I could have said “Ha, what did I tell you?” But I’m an omega, and I can’t question James, my beta. To question your superior is to lose your peace. And I have lost quite a bit already.

“Got it, my Lady.”

“You were asked to teach Mr. Kellspell proper English, Mr. Smith. You were given eight weeks. Was there not enough time?”

I get startled and lose my marbles. What do I say?

“The truth, Mr. Smith.”

Damn, she is already plugged to our personal channel. She can hear my every thought.

“Despite my best efforts, Mr. Kellspell laughed in my face.” It pains me to say all this, to expose James like that. But I WAS ASKED BY TIGRESS to tell the truth!

“I did! It was because Wallace here could not translate anything! I asked him how to say “Whiskey Tango Foxtrot?” In proper British, he did not know, I asked him how to translate “the shit has hit the fan”, and he could not!”

Tigress frowns, as Jaguar leans over and whispers in her ear.

“We will deal with this later.” Tigress concludes. “Mr. Kellspell, why didn’t you give a satisfactory answer to Mr. Milgram?”

“Because it was a stupid question, my Lady!” James makes big eyes and a goofy face. “At least then. I did not give a damn about that, then. I was worried about being poor and abandoned by the world.'



“Also, I myself, was assaulted at least twice before the age of 12, in my female avatar, by strangers. I came to my mother with that, she asked me if I was RAPED, I said - no, and she told me to take a shower and forget about it. All those assaulted were BOYS, my Lady! What was the big friggin’ deal? They were not going to get pregnant!”

Tigress is silent, but, I dread, Mr. Milgram in his apartment is not. A new glass was installed after he threw a bottle out of his window, but it never stopped Mr. Milgram before. As James speaks, I half-expect Mr. Milgram to throw himself out, and fall on our lawn just to prove the point.

“That was your reason for not searching for the answer?”

“Well…” James takes a slow breath. “I had more pressing issues to resolve then. One being: how do I become SOMEONE to be noticed and recon with. When Mr. Milgram came to me, I was very young, I had no skills, no job, no one respected me, and my more successful relatives never missed a chance to shut me out, ignore me, laugh at me, and stomp me out of existence. Mr. Milgram’s problem with traumatised boys looked ridiculous to me. If only because I myself was one of those assaulted kids, and I shook it off. I never made a big deal out of it.”

Tigress thinks, and Jaguar leans over to her, whispering again.

“Allright, what do you think would have been a safe place for those boys, if not in church. Maybe, their home?”

“Yeah, about that. This one time I was assaulted, I was home, back in my village. A stranger came in to ask for a drink of water (that was a normal thing, plenty worked there on the state fields). I invited him into the kitchen, both of my grandparents were in the garden. The dude was big, and I was 11. He grabbed me and pushed me against the table, and started molesting me. I screamed, and resisted, and I knew it was in vain, for I knew my grandparents could not har me.”

Dead silence takes place, as Jim continues matter-of-factly.

“So, as the fucker is trying to take my clothes off, I think to myself: well, but HE does not know that my grandparents can’t hear me. So, if I screamed LOUDER… And I did. And that, EVENTUALLY, scared him away. That was fucked. For a long time I could feel his heavy, sweaty hands all over my body. I’d wake up at night, terrified of what happened. Maybe, fearing that he might come back.”

“Did you tell you grandparents?”

“I did, and my grandfather knew every single dog in both villages, that’s why NO ONE from there would dare to touch me, but that guy was from elsewhere. He was a passer-by. He was not living in the villages, and my grandfather never had a chance to confront him. Then, not even a year after that, I was assaulted AGAIN, this time in Moscow, in the elevator leading to my apartment. This young man jumped in together with me, and assaulted me again, this time he did so much more. I screamed again, begged him as he was pulling down my panties… I screamed, begged, and he stooped the elevator and let me go. I came home, my Mom said - was there a penetration, and I said - no. She said - take a shower and forget about it. There was no point reporting this to police. They were not going to do anything about it.”

“How did you come with that?”

“I didn’t. I forgot all about it. You know why? Because I had bigger fish to fry. My cousin seemed to have been born with a silver spoon in her mouth, and her family never hesitated to take a shit on my head for being born to a “commoner”. They treated me like crap for decades, they buried me under their scorn, they left me for dead. Instead of dwelling on a few perverts in my life, I spent every available minute studying English, so I could go to America, and show this bitch that I was worth my weight in gold.”

A long pause takes place. I watch Matushka and Richard, and they sit at the table with their heads down.

Henry sits in the middle of the rug with his eyes closed, and acts like he can’t hear anything that is going on.

“Then what happened?” Tigress asks.

“Then, after howling for more in my life than an insane mother, gruelling poverty and snotty relatives, I got picked up by a thatched roof.”

Tigress frowns.

“Ahem, a rough top, my Lady.” James smiles. “I understand I must learn proper English.”

“Thank you for making an effort.”

“Of course… and he raped me so many times, for so long, in so many incredible ways, that he made those perverts look like inept school children. And, sometimes, he made me wish I was killed by those perverts, for my life went from bad to worse.”

“What about now?”

“Still at it, my Lady. But 5 years ago I got radicalized by one of your agents, Wolf “Krotkie” Hafnian. Apparently, he was sent by another one of your faithful people, Lord Henry Carlton. Thanks to the relentless efforts of these gentlemen, my life is now full of purpose. I also believe Mr. Hugh Michael to be your agent, too. I think he was used as a decoy to take me off the streets. Then I was used as a decoy to take Mr. Rockford off the streets.”

Tigress gives James a reserved smile.

“Anyway, the short conclusion of my protracted speech: I do not have the answer for Mr. Milgram. I guess, he ordered a big thick cake that is still baking in God’s Kitchen, how’s that? Every hungry customer in this restaurant must remember, that I AM ONLY A WAITER! I cook nothing myself. My job is to bring you what God gives me.”

“And thank you for that, Mr. Kellspell.”

“The pleasure is all mine, my Lady. For five years now, I have been SO INCREDIBLY HAPPY. I was properly rewarded for my job. All of the BS in my life is FINALLY PAYING OFF! At the age when most people fold, lose their MoJo and are seen drinking at the corner of “My Memory Lane” and “WhereDidMyLifeGo?”, I am high on hope, inhaling the fragrance of the lovely, unique flowers, and looking forward to the fruit of the trees that took 50 years to grow. Can you imagine waiting for your dream to come true for fifty years, my Lady?”

“I can imagine waiting a lot longer than that, Mr. Kellspell.”



“Is there a problem, Mr. Kellspell?” I say, prompted by Tigress.

“My faithful Teacher and Interpreter! I need your services.” James grabs my hand in an exaggeratedly desperate motion. “I would like to say this to our Lady: “You da man”. Please, translate that to Proper English.”

A curve ball from James. This is what service to him is all about. You have to be ready to twist into a pretzel to please him. Always.

That is why everyone is looking at me.

“You da man” (italics). Into proper English. Let’s do it.

“Mr. Kellspell would like to express his genuine appreciation for your incredible patience and resilience in the face of insurmountable odds.”

The audience applauds. Dr. Michael is seen coming down the spiral Staircase, winking at Matushka, and bowing slightly to Lady Anne, who is coming to the table with a teapot. She has resumed her duties of caring for everyone not a day after she was shot by one of Jim’s patients.

“Would you like some fruit?” Lady Anne approaches Tigress with a sweet smile and a bow.




























                CHAPTER 130 (from 119)

“Whatever intel you get, before you act on it, or talk about it, or even think about it - you take it directly to your Control Panel with God. Here are three green bridgeplates we linked for you, James. “Loyalty-Honor-Service, on the basis of Magnificat&Covenant”. It is a copy of the Control Panel you smashed into pieces after you took poison, and before you fell asleep under the influence of it.

You present Him with this intel, and YOU ASK FOR HIS ADVICE.

The machine will rush you, and force you, and compel you to skip this step. See what it does? It was programmed to urge you to skip this step because “there is no time to consult God, you need to ACT (speak, think) NOW”. It is a lie, my boy. You act, speak, or even think without God, you will be in pain. And when you come to the machine with this pain, it will tell you to blame God.

So, quit running in this dumb circle. Get up and surrender to God. That is, if you have suffered enough in the circle, where the machine first tells you not to include God into your decision-making process, which guarantees pain, and, predictably, you are in pain as a consequence of that choice.

Where is the Stupid device that gave you such advice? Why, the machine is silent, nowhere to be found, as it was programmed not only to skip God, but Compassion and Love, too.

It includes your knee-jerk reaction of answering not just without thinking, but even before the person finished talking. What is your rush? You can’t wait to show God what a mindless puppet of “your” ego you are? Is that what I am supposed to present to my family? The man who is supposed to stop our civil war acts like a child, interrupts you in the middle of a sentence! What are you supposed to do instead?”

“Wait until the person is done talking, and take three breaths while contacting God to ask for His Guidance on the best answer that hurts no one.”

“You are going to write that down a thousand times, for the love of God, James, my motherland is knee-deep in blood, and your immaturity levels hit a new low since I suspended you!”


Commander Uri Kumlatov to James Kellspell during one of his lectures. This is a hell of a long quote, but I had to copy it here. Jim is the one who impatiently wants to move faster. He wants to be the saviour, he wants to make a difference. As of now, he lacks the focus, the conviction, and, possibly, the proper psychotic drugs.

Jim can read you a long protracted lecture on where plastic comes from, but he would also break into a man’s house to watch him fuck his boyfriend.

Please read on.


Henry and James are at it again. Henry has been disturbed lately. But, it is the rising moon.

“And if you can’t see that, then you haven’t been paying attention, James!”

“All I see is that you are a large man, Henry!” James is not serious, and he really HAVEN’T been paying attention to Henry’s tormented monologue.

Ahem, I brought up the right quote, then.

“I have not heard of the establishment turn down a man for being large. But I have heard of the establishment turn down a man for being gay! The very fact that I lust after you, James, makes me ineligible for service! What does that tell about me? A man who failed to serve his country?”

“You think you are the only one nursing a dilemma, Henry? How about I always pledged to serve the poor, and here I am, serving creme-de-la-creme of British aristocracy! Your relatives, basically. What does that make ME? The man who broke all his vows?”

Comes Mr. Rockford as Regent Kellspell and Lord Carlton are having an ever heating up domestic.

Rockford hands a message from His Highness to Regent James Kellspell. It is a piece of paper.

I know it is from His Highness, because I saw him give the paper to Rockford in the entrance leading to our Spiral Staircase Room.

Funny how various generations of humans manage the communication issue here on the alien spaceship.

James Kellspell, 47, (not the youngest, but the most unhinged of us all) immediately accepted the Andromedan brain-wave based technology (another way of saying “psychic-based technology”), and moved his phone into a bridge plate, discovering and creating new apps.

Sheba, 51, missed her phone and wished it worked here (her wish was granted AFTER she left the set)

Yours truly, age 61, is lost on both ends.

His resourceful Highness, 99, did not lose a beat, and asked Mr. Rubinstein for a notepad and a pen.

James sniffs, then unfolds the thick paper. On it:

“Help us save the Empire, and we will help you save the poor. Deal? Nod and wink your right eye if “yes”.”

Kellspell glances towards the Spiral Staircase, and tries to see Jaguar there. Failing to do so, he, then, nods and winks with his right eye.

“I will never resolve my dilemma, James!” Henry moans under his breath sitting on the bed, and throwing his head down on Krotkie’s blanket.

“I just resolved mine.” James chuckles, then nods, and winks his right eye in the same manner, now to Henry.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Henry stares at James like the latter was insane. Which is not a far drop from the real state of things :).

“Jaguar, my good man, just gave me all the answers. As for your dilemma, Henry, this is what His Highness has to say about it:
“Just be a good man and do your job.”

“Let me see that…” Henry takes the note from Jim’s hands.

“Let me translate this for you, my dearest mate: “Everyone gets fucked in the ass in this world, gay or not”. That’s what it means.” James chuckles and pulls the paper now out of Henry’s fingers.






“Here is another one, my Prince. The machine SUDDENLY says: “SOMETHING IS LOST!!! You must GRIEVE for that!”

Moretr nods, monitoring every vibe of Jim’s essence.

“And, like an idiot, you SUDDENLY have to interrupt the good times you are having, and, as an obedient salve of the ego, you scramble for things that you lost to mourn! After having taken such a nose dive from the skies of, basically, happiness, you fall hard and want to know what shot you out of the sky. You turn to “the only thing that is your HELPER”, and that thing points at God! Oh, it’s HIM who took whatever you are mourning! And I have been believing this garbage for 13 bln years!”

“So, we can say that the machine always tries to “rip the happiness out of your hands”, even as you try to obtain it in every way possible.”

“Yes!” James closes his eyes and bows his head. “This is where you simply wake up to the Presence of Father. And He tells you that the Stupid device is preprogrammed to keep you miserable, so you’d have a reason to blame God.”
















WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW



THE SHEPHERD’S APPRENTICE
(Under Carlton-Kellspell River Sigil)



           CHAPTER 129 (from 119)



      Three Breaths Have All The Answers


“Three breaths, James, take three breaths before you give ANY reaction to what you hear. The machine COMPELS YOU to respond RIGHT AWAY, because it is the BEST FOR THE MACHINE, and the worst for you. Your FAST response is the least balanced, therefore, more poison-laced. And that causes more grief in the hearts of others. This is what the machine is programmed to do - to cause imbalance, therefore pain. Don’t be it’s mindless puppet. Have respect for WHO YOU ARE.”

“Three breaths…” James inhales, re-programming himself. Making himself UNAVAILABLE for the machine to control.

“But you do not spend these three breaths searching the machine’s advice for the worst way to hurt your loved one! You spend these three breaths SETTING YOUR BEHAVIOUR TO THE MOST BALANCED. What do you do when you see Henry?”

“Happy to see him, therefore I want to make him happy by serving him.” Jim beamed.

“Copy that to H.M., and you are good.” Moretr nods. “Consider that bug fixed. What did Kumlatov tell you?”

“He just gave me zirconium dioxide to work with. Did not say a word. Possibly still upset.”

“Is it because of the tickets to Noah’s Ark Henry was selling for $3 000 000?”

“Yeah…” James chuckles. “But, I think, it is also because of his family, and the civil war.”

“Fine, then, let’s work on what a Regent is. You are not a wedding General, James. People depend on you.”

“People are already hanging on me, and we haven’t even started, Mr. Smith and Mr. Rockford.”

I sit very close to James, and admire a picture of his feet I just took with my phone. Her feet are so lovely.

Richard stands by the bed with his head down, silent and burly, like a disturbed ghost. He only looks aloof. All of his attention is on James. Jess. His Jess. The woman he assaulted, therefore was given to. The woman he loves, and is very hot for.

“See? People depend on you, and you depend on how internally balanced you are.”

“But my Prince, most of the time I do not know what to do either! Wallace, what the fuck is this?!”

Oh, he saw what I was doing in my phone!

“Did you take a picture of MY FEMALE AVATAR’s feet? A foot fetish, Wallace? Gimme that!” He grabs my phone from my hands. “Quentin Tarantino you are not!”

Oh, my God. I think I can’t be any more ashamed.

But, to my utter shock, James quickly loses interest in the “stalker’s portfolio” on my phone. He skips through pictures of her underwear that I took and slept with, and the pictures of her in the shower, and of every lovely body part I could catch.

He throws the phone back to me, while focusing his attention on Moretr.

“Problem, James?” Moretr asks, monitoring his bridgeplate, on which he sees Jim’s every emotional color.

“Mates!” Kellspell scratches me under my chin. “Wallace is stalking my female avatar, and Richard jerks off on my pillow!”

“Richard jerks off into your shoes. He has a foot fetish, too.” Moretr nods. “Let’s get back to work. Three breaths will give you answers.

First Breath: Look at Me (You align yourself with me, but you understand that I am only channeling Melekh Shel Zahav)

Second Breath: Straighten up your back. You control the situation.

Third Breath: Diffuse the situation by a smile of a teacher for his students.

“The ego’s first task is to break you up with God, for He is the only one who gives you the correct directions on what to do next.

Once you have lost the connection with the Only One who can help, this is where the dumb machine starts giving you OTHER possible solutions.

The ego’s solutions are:
Annoyance,
Anger,
Desperation,
Frustration,
Panic.

The ego, then, will persuade the befuddled, lost YOU that IT IS THE ONLY WAY, CONSIDERING THAT YOU WERE ABANDONED BY GOD (!).

That hurts you even more, and you grab the cup with poison of anger, and you drink it.

IT DOES NOT HAVE TO BE THIS WAY.

Father’s way:

Be present in the situation with dignity.
Let YOURSELF and everyone else know that you are in control of your emotions by being in control of the situation. Simply: You are with God.

In the process of all that, even detached from the machine, you will still feel the “jerks” from it, demanding you jump into desperation (gulp the poison from the cup), when there is ABSOLUTELY NO REASON OR NEED for it.

Watch out for being controlled by the machine. Remember that you set it up to hurt yourself. Remember that, and do not let it hurt YOU, the Child Of God.












“Did you have a HARD day, Henry?” James sits behind his First Spouse and nibbles on his neck as Henry is on his phone AND his bridgeplate at the same time.

When Henry needs James to come to him, he becomes sullen and unresponsive. It is a sign for Jim to step up his Hourly Affirmations Of Loyalty.

“Henry, I will do whatever you want me to do.” James inhales Henry’s smell and sits behind with a blissful face of a cat who just ate a whole plate of sour cream.

Henry continues to work his phone, then link some files to his bridgeplate. I can see what he is doing, the dark-green cloud going there and back between his phone and the bridgeplate.

Henry stops for a second, and looks straight ahead of himself, his gaze cold and focused.

“I will do what pleases His Highness.” James continues to look for the right key to open up his gloomy mate, bowing low. As he sits BEHIND Henry, he bows to the right, and rubs his left ear against Henry’s long, shapely right arm.

Henry narrows his eyes. As much as I know him, it is a sign of satisfaction.

“This homie be serving The Empire, big time. Yes? Am I close? Give me a hint, Henry, and I will nibble on your ear.”

Henry lowers his head and looks sideways to the right.

“We are drowning in shame, James. First, we must redeem ourselves in the eyes of the Empire before we dare to offer ourselves to it.”

Here goes one of Jim’s famous punchlines.

“I can swim in shame all day, Henry. Get on my back.”

I close my eyes and try to internalize the joke right away, bypassing those centers in my brain responsible for laughing. You can say, I attempt to swallow it without chewing first.

Matushka, who started a rose garden right outside the back door, just off the concrete pad, is heard coughing. She figured out her own ways of dealing with our Prophet comedian. Or, Comedian Prophet?








             HOW TO BREAK AWAY
     FROM THE MACHINE FOREVER
         (Pulling out the last cords,
 cutting the remaining connections)

“I can FINALLY see the STRINGS that the dumb machine is using to MAKE ME INTO A TOOL OF PAIN! And I see that some ball, or a message COMES TO IT from left… It receives the message, and THIS IS WHEN IT VOICES the message. It reads those messages in a really nasty voice.”

“Tell me more.” Moretr prompts.

“I can hear the dumb machine say: “GO DOWN! FIND A REASON TO BE DEPRESSED! And, like an idiot, YOU START


SEARCHING FOR A REASON TO GET DEPRESSED,

AND, EVEN IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO BE DEPRESSED -

THE MACHINE HAS ORDERED YOU TO BE DEPRESSED!

SO YOU BETTER DO IT!

AND YOU drink the jug of bitter poison

EVEN IF ALL THAT AILS YOU IS GLOOMY WEATHER!

AND YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW EVER - WHO GIVES YOU THESE DUMB ORDERS,

AND WHY SHOULD YOU OBEY AND ORDER TO BE DEPRESSED, WHEN YOU DO NOT WANT TO, AND HAVE NO REASON!


“Got it, James. Vividly. Great job. What do you want for a reward?”

“Henry. My Prince, I want Henry. And, oh

“Please, continue.”

“OK! I am so happy to open up the torture chamber, where I was so UNHAPPY wunder the control of the DUMB microchip! Here is more for you. Please, relieve me of THIS ABOMINATION! it also says: “GET MAD!” It’s like I put these settings into the machine, and IT REMINDS ME to shoot up POISONS, so that I experience pain as I sleep, unable to hear Your soothing Voice. I am pissed at the dumb machine.”

“Then you are following its orders.”

“Oh, right!”

“Focus, James… Where are the messages coming from? Once you tell us the position of the part that feeds the machine the messages, we will be able to find it in our programming, too. We will then access it and scrap it. We will put a new control centre for you.”

“I’m working on it, my Prince. Sending the sensing beam in there. Seeing it. While I am working, my Prince, can you help me with a problem.”

It’s either Henry, or blue ksill, I say to myself, as I watch the Arkchils drop the collected intel onto my bridgeplate at the rate of 80 times a minute. To them it is slow. But for me - it is fine. All they need to do is deliver faster than the ego-feed. Ego feed into your brain is about 40 times a minute.

40 times a minute is the negative input, the poison you have to deal with EVERY DAY (your ego’s comments, judgments, orders, and roasting you on the flames of fear, when it is not PROMPTED to force you to drink a jug of worry).

“Of course, my love.” Prince Moretr stands directly over Jim’s body on the bed. As in, he is transpiring through the wall and the bed. He is in another dimension (Level), being here “holographically”. It is the best I can explain for now. Soon, I will be able to explain it better. James is doing a scientific paper on Universal Level Superimposition.

I cannot always see Jim’s mind. Or, rather, the labyrinth of his mind is too vast for me to see it all at once. So, what is it that ails him? Henry, or blue ksill?

“I will be out of blue ksill before this assignment runs out.” James says slowly, with his lips. He is out of his body, but it bothers him so much that he squeezed back for a moment to use his lips…

“We are working on it, James. I assure you that you will not run out.”

“Thank you, my Prince. OK, let’s continue running diagnostics on my ego-befuddled brain. OK, so after it orders you to drink poison, gives you the wrong advice, and then scares the crap out of you based on bogus reasons, you start screaming in pain, and THE STUPID HAS THE BALLS TO POINT AT GOD, and say - IT IS HIS FAULT THAT YOU ARE HURTING!”

James grinds his teeth, and turns to the right, where, on Level 3, the ego microchip, pulled out of his body, sits frozen in solid ice. Ice helps slow down its harmful activity, and prevents it from sending stupid messages into Jim’s mind.

“And then it always puts you in harm’s way!!!”

“By getting mad at it, you dance to its tune. It does not care who you yell at, as long as you charge it with anger, generated by your negative emotions. See where they are coming from. It is a trap.”

“Oh..” James nods, now sitting up. “Yeah.”

“Give me an overview of our today’s session, James.”

“This is how I see it, basically: You are in a tough position, and in pain . Both Father and the ego advise you what to do. You will be in even more pain if you listen to the advice of the ego.

“You forgot the jug of frustration. Every time it is not going “right”, and “right away”, the ego gives you a large glass of FRUSTRATION. You drink it without thinking, and the situation goes from bad to worse. YOU MAKE IT WORSE BY ACTING IN AN INSANE WAY, suggested by the ego, and exacerbated by the painful solution of frustration and desperation. What are OTHER drinks you can use to strengthen your mind and soul, instead of sinking your mind and soul?”

“Patience!” James lights up.”

“Very well.”

“What do you do when you see H.M. frustrated?”

“I do not become frustrated with him for sure. Or MAD at HIM, for suer. These are all the WRONG answers from the machine. Right. When the little girl comes crying to you, you do not start crying with her!” When H.M. gets frustrated…. I do not take him seriously, therefore, confusing the programming of the machine. Oh, my little one is crying! But he is silly, he does not know yet that everything is fine!”

“You got it, James. You can have Henry now.”

And Henry… He sits on his bed in his Royal Chamber, straight and stiff like an old tree, its branches dried, its trunk just about stripped of bark, with just a tiny bit if leaves left on twigs.

He sits at attention, waiting for James to be done with his “cleansing session”. He knows that the first thing James does after he comes from school, interviews, lectures, assignments, even before he thinks of food and rest - he seeks Henry.

“Last thing, James.” Prince Moretr has now moved away from the bed, and he stands on the background of  the curtains to Henry’s Chamber. “What do we do when your little bear comes roaring?”

“We calm down the cutie. I am in full control, because I AM THE MOTHER. He is my cub. He is sweet, but knows very little about the world. I must be nice and tender with him, calm him down and make him happy on his level, and be patient to see him grow up spiritually into the Bear of Spirit that he was destined to be.”

“Excellent. Here, give this to Henry.”

A silver arrow shoots from Moretr into Jim’s bridgeplate, and Jim smiles sweetly. “Thank you, my Prince. Henry will love it.”

















James was tasked with conducting a communication session between Jaguar and Tigress. But as he was relaying the conversation, he became in too much pain, and slurped some NES. Namely -sp (self-pity). Why? I can tell you why.

“I got it!” James beams, raising his eyes from three green and white bridgeplates bonded together by their leaves, as each of their leaves touches with the other to form a fourth. “I KNOW why it is so hard to carry on every new moon. I AM DRAGGING “MY” EGO WITH ME!!! It keeps on begging me to carry “another one of our points of agenda”!!! And all of that is dirt. Nothing good in that agenda!”

Standing so close to James that my whole naked body touches his side, I get startled.

“Your hardon is so hot it literally burns my hip.” Jim notes, but makes no attempt to move away from me. Or, tell me to go away. Or, tell me to wrap my shameless overstimulated self into the dressing gown.

“This is what the STUPID says, and I quote: “I love you! I want the best for you!
You tasked me with helping you to deliver to God the list of your demands… Requests, ok! “Requests”!
I know you’ve already just about gave up on our agenda.
But please, take at least ONE demand with you…
Otherwise, as you told me, God will not give you ANYTHING!
I know you just about gave up on me, too, or our deal to let God know how unhappy you are, but just this one… Please…”

I lock up. For this is EXACTLY THE STORY I’m hearing IN MY MIND.

“Did you tell that to Prince Moretr?” I ask cautiously, sticking my face into the back of his neck, and inhaling his hybrid smell. He smells both like a man, and like a woman.

“Yeah, just now. I had to make THREE copies of my bridgeplate, link three of them, and then listen carefully to my soul, now my hearing ability amplified by three. The fourth formed bridge plate being the speaker. It’s the new moon, Wallace, and I must UNDERSTAND as to why my burden is so heavy, and how I can help Henry get me out. Yesterday Henry and I talked on Level 1 in real time (still via a bridgeplate, though), and he said “James, I will not let you go, but you must drop the extra weight.” So, I have been thinking, and looking, and I discovered that the STUPID is talking to my mind, and this is what it is saying, that fucking shitty misprogrammed thing. I get it now. NOW I KNOW WHY MY LIFE IS SO HARD. I carry “my” ego’s demands! Something that is “SUPPOSED” to be “holy” for me, but in fact, just the dumb burden that prevents me from doing what I really LOVE - serve! I simply refuse to be a burden for Henry. I want him to be happy, and not regret that he picked me up.”

I rub myself against his training pants (he still sometimes wears those left behind after Wolf Hafnian, who had a few simple items of human clothing).

“What a drastic difference from Sheba”. James notes, holding both of his hands just above the lovely shaped, smooth leaves of the bridgeplates. “Sheba tried to stay as far away from me as possible within the same room. And here is my new Operator, naked, with just the dressing gown on, so he could rub his hard dick against me all day, and cover himself should someone come in.”

“Please, send me away. I am a disgrace to the idea of a Personal Arkchil Operator.”

“Tell that to Richard.” James laughs quietly. “He was assigned to be my Operator, but suffered the same “hard” affliction, so much so, he was unable to follow anything but the scent of the woman. That’s why it was given to YOU. And you fell to the same thing. You both are old perverts.”

“I am unworthy of your Grace, James.” I insist, burning up, swallowing hard, remembering the last time I begged him to let me take him as a woman, and he let me. I did not last long… But what a heavenly gift.

“Grace? I am here for sexual assault.”

Jim’s punchlines!

I breathe down his neck, hating myself for being so old already, loving him for staying so young and slim.

“Then how do you make it better?”

“Stop listening to the STUPID, and stop taking “one, just one of the demands with you”. It does not even know WHAT IT IS ASKING ME TO DO! The last demand I am dragging is “I have nothing to look forward to”. An ego-formed BOULDER enough to squish you like a bug. I AM RELIEVING MYSELF FROM IT NOW! Stupid ego must understand: Father has already assigned my salary. It will be huge. More than you can imagine. More than I ever put into you to “demand from God”. But I must wait another half an hour.”

James makes a breaking, spreading motion with his hands, and I stagger back begrudgingly, only to re-attach myself to him immediately.

“I hear Father, but then I make a rookie mistake to let the Stupid, as my “advising friend”, MISINTERPRET every single thing Father says, and turn a gift into punishment!”

“Yes, James…” I say breathlessly, and I am so high on my feelings that I can barely hear what he is saying. Or, rather, unable to process it.

Instead of floating in my personal la-la land, I should be on the alert. I hear him talking faster, and getting more and more excited.

I suspect he took NES (sp)… When? Why?

“But if I take what looks like punishment, and let Father INTERPRET it correctly, that’s how you get through 20 years in prison and become the president. You think it was fun for Nelson Mandela? And apartheid prison was nothing like any other prison. I bet they never gave him wine, drugs and cigarettes, and a swimming pool to help him with his issues!!! Jesus, Wallace, how far have I fallen? Look at the luxury that surrounds me… It means nothing to the stupid ego! But how can I be worthy of my heroes? Mandela and Solzhenytsin survived prison, and I can’t “survive” living with a millionaire! Who else thinks I’m lucky and deserve an ass-whipping for my bullshit?”

I moan quietly by his side. “You deserve an ass-licking, and I am here to provide it, just in case you feel a need…”

“Wallace, you are totally very cute. I promise you, we will play “Dadya Vanya” after I receive this info from His Highness.”

Too deeply in my feelings, I can’t even answer, but wrap myself around HER… I am no longer myself. I got diluted in HER smell, her ESSENSE, her POWER.

“So, His Highness says the following: “She relied on me for advice. Now she’s got no one to give her that advice.” I must internalise this before I throw up.”

What?

“James, how can you say that about a sacred communication you were trusted with? Do you know how upset Henry will be if he finds out? Did you take the ego-poison?” I confront him, beating myself up for not waking up earlier.

It is, indeed, too late. The poison took a hold of him, and he gave the ego the control of his speech centres. He can no longer hear me. Or, rather, the ego tells him what is important and what is not. He only heard what the ego thinks is important to hear.

That’s how the Kellspell tower fell to the dark power. Today. Just today. Tomorrow God will fix everything.

“Tigress must be an omega, Wallace! I am a beta. I know betta! Just let me at ‘em. If I was the head of it all, like hell I’d ask for anyone’s advice!”

“James, you are being very disrespectful.”

To no avail.

“Husband?” Jim brings his hand down in a powerful motion, right through the bridge plate, that falls apart due to the impact, breaks down, like a reflection in the water, only to re-assemble itself, obedient to his intense, controlling gaze. “Fine, please take a back seat. Here is food and drugs for you, I don’t want you to suffer. And, um, we will have sex later. Whatever else you need - I will give you. Just stay out of my way.”

“James, His Highness is going to see this recording…”

“Who cares, Wallace? They never let me talk!”

All you do is talk. All the time.

“Let me RULE THIS PLACE!!! You want to give me your advice? I will listen politely, but I will do it MY WAY, bitch. Next time, keep your advice to yourself. I promise, I will never ask for it. Don’t stand between me and the opportunity to HAVE MY VOICE BE HEARD!!! Look forward to chicken for dinner. I will take care of the rest.”

James speaks faster and louder, until his low hoarse whisper fills the entire bedroom, and floats into the Spiral Staircase Hall.

“Apparently it was not like that between Jaguar and Tigress.” Having come out of the thick fog of deep pleasure, and right into the icy waters of drug use and politics, I manage to stay alive and useful.

At least to my opinion. James is very offensive when he is high on NES-drugs.

It takes a special person to deal with him.

Oh, my God! Attracting attention to myself. Have I sniffed the poison, too? This place is laced with ego-protocols. This place is Earth.

“No! It was not! Jaguar is telling me, that she’d come to him FOR ADVICE! Omegas! Fuck! They clog up the system. WE should be allowed to rule!”

Jim is so agitated that the Mood Rug changes its colors from yellowish-green (our today’s general temperature) to reddish, in the corner closest to our bedroom.

“I think you are missing the point.” I feel a little bit more confident that I can deal with the crisis. Henry will be watching this recording, and I can’t fail him. I can’t make him be embarrassed for me.

“I DO, Wallace!!! And apparently, she REALLY MISSES HIM. I’d be like - husband died, ok, fine. I’m sorry. Good riddance. We were forced to stay together, now your ass is free from me, as I am from you!!! But TO TIGRESS - it was not “good riddance”. To her, losing her husband is a true, deep grief.” Jim pulls a half-filled bottle of Canadian Whiskey from under the bed, unscrews the plastic cork, and starts drinking out of it.

“She loved him.” I suggest carefully. Is there a way to sweet-talk him until he downs the whole bottle of whiskey, and falls asleep?

“SHE LOVED HIM! What the fuck is that supposed to mean? “Loving” means surrendering your freedom? Giving up on YOUR VOICE to ever be heard?! Is that what love is? I still am trying to wrap my head around it!!!” James sighs angrily, and continues to use his bridgeplate to wash out ALL of the harmful, heavy ego-protocols. As he is riding one.

He knows what causes him pain, and he does not want to be in pain. The ego is not “stronger” than him. He is just temporarily weaker than “his” ego.

“Love is surrender. You have surrendered to Henry during trials.” No matter what I say, in this state, he will contradict me. My task is to hold him from falling even deeper into disgrace.

“Yeah, that was fun. But on Level 1? I KNOW I was wrong creating the ego. I KNOW how much pain I caused Father. Let alone everyone else, which is Him, too. But deep down inside, for Jim Kellspell? Fuck it all. For 20 years I tried to stay free from my mother’s imbecilic advice. That bitch never stopped yapping what SHE THINKS I should do. Then 20 years with H.M., who never stopped yapping about what I SHOULD DO FOR HIM. And deep down inside, Wallace, even as I surrender every day, deep down inside I will still long for JKR’s fate. Miserable, as she is now, she DID GET TO EXPERIENCE A TREMENDOUS RUSH OF BOTH TIME AND MONEY THAT IS YOUR OWN, AND NEARLY LIMITLESS. What would you do with it? You can’t tell me, for even as you, for some time, were making a lot of money, you were always CHAINED to your FAMILY. So, I pity you, who had money, but still, could never afford freedom. Who held a gun to your head to start a family?!”

Wow. He hit Henry by dismissing him, he hit his mother by insulting her (don’t tell Kyle), and, obviously, all that was just a developing momentum towards hitting H.M. Plus, he dragged in JKR.

As for me and my family? I’m going to skip the description of what he just did to me. He pities me, because I could never spend my money the way Jim thinks I should have.

When Henry called me “a sucker for punishment”, he was so right. And I brushed it off. Henry is very attentive to what he sees. All good.

But now, now I can feel pain pumping through my veins.

I am an idiot for spending money on my children.

“Who held a gun to your head to start a family, Wallace?” James growls through his teeth.

“No one.” I respond honestly.

“Why the fuck did you do it then? Social mores? Your parents forced you? What was your problem? Didn’t you know they were going to chain you to them stupid kids you will never be rewarded, or even remembered for?!!” James takes another gulp from the whiskey bottle, bringing it to his face so hard that he hits his teeth.

I hold myself back from taking away his bottle. I need him to finish drinking it, so he falls asleep sooner.

And let’s tread carefully on this mine field he is pushing me into. I can’t contribute to his psychosis by making incendiary comments.

“I am saddened that you’d think about my family as “chains”…” I respond, sinking deeper and deeper in the bliss of his closeness, his mannerisms, his verbal and physical habits, as James gets even more insulting.

“You are an omega. Omegas are incapable of comprehending FREEDOM. But I will never have it. I must bury the desire to have it. Give it to Father. For I will not drag this crap anymore. It is heavy, to want the forbidden thing. Money and time together. That’s forbidden. This is what unhinges you completely. Ask Mr. Milgram.”

Or ask Henry. How he feels about the transmission of Jaguar to Tigress that James has completely dropped due to emotional turmoil it brought him.

“How much of each would you need to feel the FREEDOM?” I say, burning through most exhilarating, deep emotional torment he gives me.

James is always very emotional. So much for being Russian/Mongolian. Not a drop of Italian blood…

“I don’t know… One year and a million dollars, or something. I JUST WANT TO KNOW HOW IT FEELS to make YOUR OWN DECISIONS, WITHOUT THE MAN ALWAYS BREATHING DOWN ON YOU.”

I step away, duly ashamed.

Besides, James is too high on the ego-poison to reason with right now. We both are high. I want him so much. I need him. And I can’t believe why. Because he ravages me, because he is so unhinged.

“I did not mean YOU. I mean an Alpha. SO FUCKING TIRED OF BEING UNDER H.M.’s COMPLETE CONTROL…” James growls under his breath, rubs his teeth, and drinks more. “There goes my transmission from His Highness. Jeez. I am out of line and out of bounds.”

James sighs.

“Maybe get better now, James? Quit saying things you will regret later?”

 “Yes, Wallace! I KNOW I MUST do that. One job I was given, one job! Help these people reconnect beyond “death”! BUT… I can’t handle what I am hearing!!!”

Here he is sliding down again.

“She is desperate, because she LOST HIM. Her man finally croaked! SHE should have experienced MUCH RELIEF. But SHE is DEVASTATED. And until I come to terms with that, I must be still and sedated. SHE NEEDS HELP, and I’m being an ass here. Sedated. I must be still and sedated.”

Does it mean I can stay by his side all day and rub myself against his smooth, athletic hips, drowning in shame AND pleasure?

‘Arrgh, Wallace! I can hear your every thought! I must give up everything I ever believed HAPPINESS IS SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE! If I take the ego-route, I will be in a lot of pain. The STUPID never mentions pain. Or, it says - no pain, no Jane. I PUT that into it. So, I must remember what I did, REALIZE that there is no FREEDOM from God, and simply understand that I will never have money to experience freedom!’

“No, James…” I grab his face with my hands and give him a hot kiss on his lips. ‘Not like this.”

He is so shocked by my active behaviour that he stops his rant for a second.

“If my books would sell, I would not have to bow to THE MAN! But my books do not sell. So I must forget about FREEDOM. If it is any consolation, although JKR had a pretty wild run with all that crap, now she is in total shambles, just like the ego wanted. That bitch. Serves her right to experience something that will never be available to ME!”

I kiss him again, and he gives up trying to talk as I’m kissing him.

“Wallace… Geez!” He smells like the whiskey he’s been drinking all morning, and he can push me away if he wants to. In fact, I am expecting it.

“Granted, the ego has no idea where it is pushing you!” He finally breaks through my kiss, but does not push me away. “And still. Still, Wallace. You never hated ANYONE. So you will never understand my thirst to do things MY WAY.”

The last two sentences. How are they connected?

But you don’t ask James questions. Not like that. Eventually, his angry rant turns into incoherent mumbling, and James is asleep.

I lay by his side breathlessly, caressing her long blonde hair. Then I get underneath the blanket, and spoon her from behind, very carefully.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to find you. But I will never let you go. My Jess is not a mess. I will fix you.” I whisper to her, and while I am there, James is Jess.

Then Matushka and Lady Ann call me from the kitchen, and I must go help them.

Three hours later. I’m back in bed with Jess. If only for five minutes.

Comes Henry. Jess becomes James as she sleeps in my embrace. Immediately, James begins to smell like an unwashed, drunk guy. My beloved Lady’s another avatar.

Comes Mr. Rockford. James turns into Jess again.

Henry frowns and makes a motion for Rockford to suppress his filters.

Jess is James. James wakes up.

“Jesus, guys, you fought over which avatar to put me into? I was like - WTF, I’m switching genders faster than Mr. Garrison.”

“No, James. This is NOT what you should be worried about.” I say, as I get out of bed and tie up my dressing gown, with Henry looking at me, as in “hurry up and bring him up to speed.”

And I do. This is what happened, James, this is what you said. You fell out of a very important communication session, and you let the STUPID run your mind and your mouth.”

“Really?! I said all that under the influence of poison from the machine?! FUCK! I have hurt Henry, and I have insulted His Highness!!” James is repentant. And hungry.

“If it is any consolation, His Highness said that he had been insulted before by people a lot bigger and more powerful than you. And he survived it.” Henry steps in, and brings up Jim’s green bridge plate. “What went wrong, James? Where did you make the mistake of accepting an ego-protocol?”

James covers his face with his hands, and I see that he is smiling underneath.

“His Highness has a sense of humour. And I would not call it “dry”, or “British”, for that matter.” He says. “Henry, I can’t begin to tell you how shocked I am at my own behaviour. How can I make it up to you? I will tell you everything I know about my shameful breakdown!”

Henry is still in front of the bridgeplate, but now he is staring right in front of himself with a facial expression so frozen and unmoving that it feels like its was made of stone and stood here for eons, like a Sphinx.

‘Would you care for a dinner? While you were out, Matushka, Lady Anne and I made us a nice meal!” I say to de-stress the atmosphere.

Henry nods, James gets up from the bed, and straightens up the sheets, crumpled by us. God have mercy on me. Mercy… Compassion. Oh, yeah.

“His Highness also would like to tell you that no marriage is exactly the same, and he feels compassion for what you’ve been through. Of all people, His Highness knows how it feels when one is left without compassion.”

“OK.” James says carefully. “I did not expect any compassion. So, I am twice as grateful.”



- 50 pages from the top of Chapter



“If I look at the situation with the eyes of God, I am afraid that I will remember how cold I am, how far I have fallen, therefore how much of God’s Grace and Love I have missed.”




“Allright, what if I was making just as much money, and I was giving it to YOU, my wife. Would I still be an idiot?”

James studies me for a few seconds, testing me up and down, wondering what it would be like to be my “wife”.

And as I study Jim’s stubborn, tormented features, I remember Sheba’s advice: “Do not encourage his angry rants. Once started, he can’t stop using Father’s Tool until he talks himself into vomiting.”

“Now you are twisting it!” James concludes after scanning me this whole time, leaving no stone unturned in my soul. The man truly spits on every boundary he sees.

“No, James, YOU are twisting it. If I was making the same amount of money, but spending it on drugs instead of my children, would I be a good man in your eyes then?”

“Of course, not… I did not mean it that way, Wallace. I meant, you were not supposed to have a family!”

“Because I am transgendered?”

I am not supposed to engage him.

Not supposed to engage. But I really need to have him open up over his eternal “look at that idiot! He was fine until he started a family! Who held a gun to his head to do it?”

“No! Because this is where ALL THE PAIN comes from. My family hurt me so much. Then, H.M. sucked dry what was left. And no one even noticed what they did. Conclusion: if you are alone (not with THEM), your family can’t hurt you. If you also have children, now you are framing yourself for even more pain. I was just trying to push you towards what you wanted way back when.”

“How do you know what I wanted?”

That stops his mounting pressure.

“James, we are not supposed to be having this conversation. I know I scratched a very painful place in your soul. You seem to be under delusion that your family had hurt you.”

“DELUSION??? That’s because you simply don’t know my sister!!! Or, my mother.”

Here he goes, and I triggered him! Wrong move. Wrong step. I look down and see the rocks crumbling from under my feet, falling into the bottomless precipice. Get. Out. Of. Here.

“Can we stop this conversation before Henry rips me a new one for engaging you in a very painful subject?”

“Anything for Henry.” James exhales, and pulls out of the mental images of his family he worked so hard on forgetting.

We have half an hour before James gives a recorded lecture. His schedule is slowly beginning to get restored. I need to help him spend this half an hour in a healthier atmosphere.

“Let’s play Dadya Vanya” I suggest.

“Blyat…” James starts a cigarette. “I don’t remember what the book is all about. Some dark, sappy Russian tear jerker, I’m sure. Give me a couple of days, I will look it up on Wikipedia.”

There is only this much you can ask of a man who spent the last 20 years trying to FORGET the proverbial Dadya Vanya.

“Do you remember “Cherry Orchard”?” I still need to help him heal, not hurt, in the remaining 20 minutes.

“Yeah.” Jim says, unsure. “Checkov was nuts, that’s all I remember.”

Richard, who normally goes around the premises looking for stuff to clean and fix, is now right behind James, standing there like a ghost, with his head down. That’s his new manner. I call it “Repentant Mr. Rockford”. I do not know what is going on. I have not known him this way.

“Oh, OK! I’ll look it up! Znatoki Russkoi kulturi tut!” He rolls his eyes on both of us. “Let’s see what Wikipedia has to say.”

   




















“I am late for school, Henry, can this wait?”

“His Highness can’t wait!”

“Why is His Highness asking ME? I vowed to defend “the poorest of the poor”, not “creme-de-la-creme”. Huge difference!”

“He is asking YOU, because you have extra senses. You can hear what is commonly known as “ghosts”.”

“Right, Henry! This is exactly what my dossier says: “Regularly communicates with spirits.”

If I know my James, the punch line is coming.

“His favorite being “Canadian Whiskey”!”
James may be very upset, but he never disappoints.

“You will jump into the darkness to seek Tigress, James! Now!”

“I will jump off the roof, with my naked ass right on the hedgehog, but not now, because I am late for my school!”

“His Highness needs you to jump NOW, James!”

“I’ll jump in two hours! Right after school, I promise! I can’t be late! I just got reinstated! Kumlatov took me back after two months of suspension. This is my FIRST DAY BACK! I can’t disrespect Commander Kumlatov like that!”

This is where Henry runs out of patience and pushes Jim in. Jim’s body hits the bed, but his mind flies out, and down.

“What do you see?’ Henry leans over Jim’s head.

“Darn it, Henry… You pushed me into the closet full of dusty long clothing. Hold on… I am looking for her… I can smell her. She is here….”

A few minutes of suspenseful silence.

Then…

“Oh! I know here she is… Got her! She is laying under a whole bunch of garments that was placed on her… she is suffocating there, and in her grief, she feels like she is falling. Hold on. I am falling with her…”

James is not silent on the bed, and Jaguar makes a few more steps closer to the scene.

“Ask Her Majesty, if…” Henry starts, prompted by Jaguar.

“Henry, “Her Majesty” is not the right way to address her now. This stuff is what hurts her. Let me try to get underneath all those titles…”

Silence. Then, “Tigress… you are sleeping. Please, wake up. I know you are in a lot of pain, but it is just a dream. God is here, He loves you and He will help you, if you hold on to my voice in your mind.”

“Where are you, James?” Jaguar speaks with much tension in his voice, which gets Henry on edge, too.

“I found her under the heavy garments, and titles, and all that stuff, I moved that off her, and I am hugging her back. She is laying face down. And she is falling. Prince Moretr is here… Wallace, would you help me stretch my hand, so I could bring up my bridgeplate. I need to generate an algorithm to stop her fall into the darkness…”

I try to get Jim’s hand from under his lifeless body in trance, when Moretr’s voice sounds in my head. “Ask James what algorithm he needs. I can generate it much faster and give it to him.”

“James…” I begin.

“I don’t think I need it anymore. She heard me, she tried to wake up. She has stopped falling.”

“Is she making an effort to get up?” I ask just so Jaguar can get a bit of a relief.

“Negative.” Jim’s lips barely move. “She is just laying there for now, but I am filling her with as much Grace as I can just through my touch. That will help her, light her way for a while.”

Suddenly, in my mind, Prince Moretr’s voice (as I can hear Jim’s channel):“I got her.”

Three minutes later, James emerges and gets up, his head disheveled, and his eyes wet with tears. “Jesus, she was in the dark for so long, she forgot what light is. As I touched her, I became submerged in her world. I felt that I do not have any reason to laugh. Even smile. All jokes, all funny things in the world were meaningless in the face of such tremendous darkness that has consumed her soul.”

During Jim’s speech I cast a glance at Jaguar, and his eyes are down, his head bowed, and he is deeply within himself. Possibly a habit to conceal his true feelings.

“For the love of God, sir, don’t you have any drugs there?” Jim starts at Jaguar. “How can they do this to her? Every last commoner in London is up to his ears in every drug there ever was, while TIGRESS is in too much pain to ever smile sincerely, and no one cares… Give her something for emotional pain!”

Jaguar’s face reflects nothing, his thick grey brows the only defense for his tormented, hooded eyes. Jim’s outburst washes over him like sea wave over a rock.

Henry shakes his head at James, as the latter taps his wrist in “my time has run out” gesture, and heads towards the door to get to his classroom.

“You pulled her through.” Jaguar says unexpectedly. “You found her, and you pulled her through. What do you want for your amazing talent?”

“Ahem…” James stops at the door with his lips pursed tight, and glances at Henry. “We have been experiencing shortages of blue ksill in Malachite Constellation, Your Highness. I am especially worried that come fall, I will be forced to land in the dry state with zero help from Houston.”

“I will look into that. Anything else?”

James sighs and shakes his head. But Henry nods for him to continue.

“I wish my talents were used.” He says begrudgingly. “I wish I had a project to look forward to. Henry, bless his heart, got me a volunteer job with this movie company, but it runs out in two months, and after that I’m back on the streets. Not exactly “on the streets”, Dr. Michael made sure of that… But I mean… Jeez, Your Highness, can we not even go there? There is not a thing you can do about that. Prince Moretr is telling me to wait.”

“I can definitely bring your case to those who might help>’

“I truly hate to be a burden to anyone.”

“You are not. Lord Carlton, will you please see me out. Now that this very important deal is settled, I have urgent business to attend to.”









“Yeah, true. This is when I was approached by this wolf from Hafnia, named Krotkie, or “Tavse”. He asked me to sign papers with him. Then I picked him up and I ran across the snowy desert for nine months straight.”

Standing outside of the kitchen door, I can only hear them. Jaguar’s voice is very quiet, while Jim’s hoarse whisper is very loud.

“Right, Your Highness, about that. My bloodline goes as follows: my parental side were serfs from Tula, my grandmother being the first child born into freedom… and my maternal grandparents were Siberian witches. My grandmother looked like her mother was knocked up by Ghingiz-Khan. I think that gives me the right to claim most of former Osman Empire, will that work? We can add it to the British Empire when the dust settles. Granted, Ghingiz-Khan had over 400 wives, I will have to share the Empire with the rest of the heirs… Yeah. Sitting with the heirs, splitting hairs… haha. Sorry, Henry ripped me a new asshole for saying inappropriate things in front of you.”



- 68 pages of Chapter 129
















WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

       THE SHEPHERD’S APPRENTICE
(Under Rockford-Kellspell-Smith Alliance)


           CHAPTER 128 (from 119)



                JAGUAR

“There is NO NEED to experience suffering. The only time you suffer is when you give in to the ego whisperings, Wallace.”
“Then maybe you should tell that to Jaguar. He is suffering because he loves her, and he can’t be there for her anymore, James.”
“U-huh… Thank you. Then the statement is not correct. We have to re-adjust this solution.”

Just today, with James. He is getting softer by the day. He is becoming a pleasure to communicate with.





“I am two years your junior, James. I must show you respect if only because of that.”

“I am prepared to play a different game now. Yes, Henry, lead me on.” James nods. “I blindfolded myself, so that the dumb machine does not jerk me off the path you are suggesting. I trust you.”

“And you should. As my Affirmation of Loyalty, I have brought you your reward, James. It is the path we will take together.
Now, where would you like to go?” Henry prompts, and I detect the continued surprise in Jim over the change that took place to his, definitely, and well-earned, most favorite mate.

“Towards Happiness, Warmth, Love, Light, and more love for me and you (copy H.M.), therefore, all those that are with us.” James responds without hesitation.

“Excellent choice. You can take the blindfold off now.” Henry leads James to someone we cannot see. He stands right outside the doorway to the hall, and all we see is his polished shoes and the front part of the jacket.

“Ah!” James says, and there is awe, and utmost shock in his eyes. “Your Highness, honestly, wow, my man!!! Here? YOU are here?! You are my main homie! So happy to see you!”

Lord Carlton shakes his head vigorously, and hissing whisper can be heard: “James, you delinquent hudlum, you do not address the Prince as “MY MAN”, what the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“Jeez... um... I am hearing my old Henry... What do I say, then? Nobody briefed me on this!!!” James takes a deep breath, breaks away from the captivating visitor, and turns to his First Spouse. “Whiskey Tango Foxtrot?”

“His Highness would like to take up the role of our Acting Alpha, and he wishes to personally supervise our little gig.”

“A-Ha... Yeah. Totally great idea!” James is profoundly stunned, still studying the mysterious stranger.

“What do you say to His Highness, James? I need you to think straight.” Henry prompts impatiently, clearly high on his emotions.

“I may be the wrong guy to ask for that...” James begins, and breaks off, listening to the whisper from the new visitor only he can hear.

“Yes, your Highness! Oh? I am seriously totally happy at hearing that! We will gladly invite you to be our boss. My mates will be happy like pigs in shit, Your Highness!”

Henry jerks Jim by his hoodie.

“What did I say wrong, Henry?” James resists. “Wallace will be happy, Richard, too. Matushka, Kyle, Lady Anne, I’m sure. Krotkie will be totally tickled pink! Who would not be happy to have him run our show? I’m sure he’s got it squared away with Lady Lion, who owns our sore asses! So, what did I say wrong?”

Their convo is interrupted by our clandestine visitor, who whispers again to James.

“Oh yeah! About that!” Jim hollers hoarsely.

“James, keep your voice down!” Henry frowns, as he invites the visitor into the kitchen,  now connected to our “Spiral Staircase Gathering Hall”. The kitchen opens up to the spacious dining room Henry ordered fro himself.

The dining room is complete with a large oval antique-looking wooden table, a cupboard, tall vases with burgundy-red artificial flowers, and dark-green velvet curtains with a view to the well-kept backyard.

The Mysterious Visitor is first to get to the table, and Henry pulls the chair out for him.

“... lost all my front teeth to fights and malnutrition… bad breath is because i ate onions this morning, Your Highness, sorry about that. I also smoke and drink, and my hygiene is poor, other than that I am ready to serve Great Britain!!!” James says in a manner of a soldier reporting to his commanding officer.



“How about you switch to Russian and I will translate, James…” Henry hisses as we all sit down. “So I could filter things out. Obviously I wasted my time teaching you propriety!”

“It’s OK.” The Visitor puts his hand on Henry’s, and makes him gasp  with utmost deference.

Matushka is seated to the left of the Visitor, Henry - to the right, while James remains standing and talking, and Richard with Lady Anne start serving tea.

“Henry, I’m so sorry, my love. But I must play this by ear. In an emergency the cat lands on all of his four feet! I never saw THIS coming!”

“Why do you think you were given a teacher of PROPER British English?! That was two months ago, James, and, clearly, you have learned NOTHING!”

“How do you translate “WTF” into Proper British English? “What is going on” just does not quite cut it! Not enough primal roar in it. Henry, we are ALL two clicks away from a complete DeVo, what difference does it make, speech will be obsolete very soon!”

“Why won’t you lecture His Highness on THAT?!”

“Gentlemen!” The Visitor says in a soothing way, as Lady Anne pours chocolate mint tea into his cup.

“Thank you!” He nods to Lady Anne. “Lord Carlton, I will most definitely let your father know…”

Henry goes pale and closes his eyes. Only for a second, but with enough drama for James to come and hold him in place for the fear to see him faint.

“… that you have arranged for a splendid reception for me.”

Henry looks straight in front of himself and exhales slowly, carefully, and with disbelief.

“Be secure in the knowledge, that I am satisfied. Now, I will talk to James. I am in dire need of information, and I do understand American English. Rough as it is, it will do. James, please brief me on what is being done on the rescue effort.”

“…without dropping too many f-bombs, forcing me to drop them, too, because it is the only way to get through to you, James.” Henry finishes in a barely audible whisper.

“We can all agree on that.” The Visitor nods to both Henry, and James.

“So, yeah, um... Totally. I agree. Henry, my heart is bleeding for how much I hurt you with my behaviour. I will make it up to you now. Your Highness, will you please tell Henry’s father, what a good fuck he is. I have topped many men, but Lord Carlton Senior’s son…”

“JAMES!” Henry is now blushing and distraught.

“I was trying to commend you!”

Now, not just Matushka, but everyone, including our Visitor, is laughing. Everyone, but Henry. And we have to. It is the best way to diffuse the situation.

… as I make up a letter in my mind. “Dear James, how many times have we discussed Henry’s pain: he never came out of the closet because his father clearly told him that he will not have a homosexual son. What about the shame of having a homosexual son did you not understand?!”

“U-huh… Anyway. Think outside the box, my friends! On Andromeda everyone is a hermaphrodite.” James rolls his eyes. “About MEOL, Your Highness. Great Britain will be given a continent the size of itself plus all of its colonies that you guys ever had. And big chunks, like India. Not India itself, but just territory-wise. Maybe three times that much of territory. I am totally thrilled to tell you that Henry worked tirelessly on behalf of his country, and he is a true patriot. I was floating rogue, like Mr. Hankie in the toilet... Hehe-he... Do you watch “South Park”? Anyway, I was floating, and he sent Krotkie to pick me up, and they dragged me out of the gutter to serve the British Empire. I even came up with a slogan we can use. “Make Great Britain Great Again!” How’s that? Do you like it?”

Henry no longer makes any motions to get James to use manners. We are going to have to work on his manners. As soon as we are done laughing. While Henry sits there, defeated, with his head down.

“Henry recruited me in the ways you cannot imagine, five years in the making. I can see now. Even Sheba did not suspect the depth... and girth, come to think of it, of his involvement.”

I can almost hear pre-recorded bursts of laughter in the audience.

Henry’s phone rings, he looks at it, and gets up quickly. “Your Highness, I must take this call!”

The Visitor nods, and Henry leaves.

Ok, we now are trying to STOP laughing. Matushka and me sit with our heads deeply down, choking. Lady Anne hides her face behind a large teapot she is carrying.

“This compound is full of history. My history with your faithful agent, Your Highness. And this here dinner table, at which you sit, I fucked Henry on this table many, many memorable times! ”

Henry was saved by the bell, he was. If Jim’s previous comments took his breath away, this one would have definitely killed him.

And we are beginning to adjust to the new reality: The pure fresh water of the establishment was about to collide with the salt of the Earth of James Kellspell. We were going to get a better, more capable symbiosis.



“I am SO HAPPY to have united back with you! Talking about A LARGE CHUNK OF AN AMATRIX!”

“No, not that.” Jaguar shakes his head slowly.

James thinks for a second. “Bullshit, Your Highness. They named a planet after you on Cassiopeia.”

Now Jaguar is silent, thinking.

“I may have misheard them, but that was long before I had a crush on you! And if not the Amatrix, then tell me, how is it that I feel so close to you, when I always hated the fat cats?”

“What is an “arsehole”, James?”

“A mask, I guess.”

“Then what is a “fat cat”?”

“Oh, I see your logic. Steniyamas to that!”

Jaguar gives James a reserved smile, with the expression “I do not hear that every day.”

We quit laughing, and we are told that James just SPOKE GREEK to Jaguar.

And I would not put it past him. Jim learned two foreign languages all by himself.

“So, anyway, back to business, Your Highness. This is what I have to report. Great Britain will be getting a large continent, IF we promise TO take Ireland and Hafnia… I mean, Denmark. We have two agents from these countries who are working tirelessly on behalf of the Crown, Andrew and Krotkie. I believe we must reciprocate.”

“Let me discuss this, and I will get back to you. But, in advance, I do not see why not. Congratulations on your achievement.”

“Thank you, Your Highness! Um… Actually, MEOL was not my achievement. I knew nothing about it. An American citizen, as much as I know, named David Reddington, applied a lot of effort and negotiation skills with MEOL Parliament to secure the continent for the filming of our dumb show. Now, I see, that he was securing it for so much more. It will be very spacious for your Empire there, sir. Totally cool, if I must say. There is no water there, though, and it’s only 3 yarkis of light… The Tribelin is set like your brightest moon.”

“No water…” Jaguar repeats. “Is that normal for their civilisation, to homestead a planet with no water?”

“Yes, sir, totally. They are essentially a blob of silicone that was born in the ocean of liquid nitrogen. Water, oxygen, sun - all that is poison to them. But worry not, yeah… They understand the needs of humans. They were partially fused with humans about nine hundred million years ago to obtain a skeleton. I really was not ready for this report, so my thoughts are disheveled. All we need to live will be “placed” via so called, ehm… “Hermit Channels”, superimposed from Parallax, Pleiades. It’s a lot of spiritually-technical stuff, if you will… I can prepare a more detailed report on how Hermit Channels of Parallax work. That will be something our Andromedan counterparts will negotiate. The project of saving the proto-Earth is an effort of more than one civilisation. But all that will be arranged for us.”






“So excited… I did not know that life could be so good! Henry was right! We WERE meant to be together and happy! May I kiss your hand?”

A whisper is heard.

“Got it.” James replies. “May I sniff you, then? You smell totally straight. That’s for one.”

Whispering again, and Richard reaches out to touch Jim’s neck. His head falls back. “Thank you. I get overtaken by the dumb programming that compels me to use Father’s tool non-stop… Meaning, talk and obtain intel…”

“I will take care of all your, and your mates’ needs, James.” More quiet whisper.

“Oh, yeah, about that!” James is still not quite there, and, excited, he responds loud enough for Mr. Milgram to hear us on the second floor. “Don’t worry about my homeland. I am not “defecting” to your side. I don’t need to be at home personally to save them. Once we initiate the reaction, and develop the momentum, all I need to do is get in touch with Dadya Misha, for one. Or, Alexey Anatolievich’s comrades. EIther one of them, or both, will lock onto their supporters, who will spread the effect. Not a big deal. But, personally I have an ardent desire to serve your Queen. I have no idea why. I do not remember having this feeling before. Because Henry gave me drugs, I guess. But I do believe you guys are the best thing in terms of totally cool organisation. Other than that Henry and I fucked up so much with Mr. August… Seriously. We need to fix that… The rest is cool.”

Jaguar nods. “We are going to need your scientific knowledge, too. Your dossier states a few incredible scientific discoveries.”

“U-huh… Who wrote that dossier? Henry? I have no scientific degree. The only degree I ever saw was in the bottle of vodka.”

By now me and Matushka have learned to internalise our LOL. Richard, however, remains serious, even sullen.

“I did not say we need your “degree”, James. I said, we need your  scientific knowledge.”

 Just as we learned to stay decent here, James throws us a curved one.

The message from James appears on my bridgeplate: “The Prince is not a turtle. Not easy to turn over.”

Matushka glances at the screen of the bridge plate, and here we both are choking again. “The security will remove us if we do not stop.” I remind her through laboured breaths.

“I know…” She responds, and bows her head. “When this is all over, I want you to read it back to me. We can go to my bedroom and rock the casbah. There we will have the transcripts, and will laugh all we want.”

I nod, and try to focus on what is going on.





“So, anyway, back to business, Your Highness.”… With a self-content face, Mr. Kellspell. Next, “Bullshit, Your Highness”. That one sent me spinning. And, as if one could ever top that, “May I sniff you, Your Highness.” Henry reads the message that he received on his phone from my bridge plate, dedicated to monitoring James.

“How can I make it up to you, Henry?” James bleats like a beaten sheep.

That’s what they say instead of “sorry” in their relationship.

“For fourteen months I trained you. Then, Wallace taught you proper English for two months. Quite a waste of time, would you admit?” Henry casts a fiery glance at me, making me lower my eyes and shift uncomfortably on the rug.

“Henry, I was never warned… I did not think His Highness was here for real…” James sighs, sitting in front of Henry on the Mood Rug, the space underneath him glowing deep green, the colour of warming, awakening consciousness.

That’s his excuse? Richard, sitting to the right of James, catches my eyes and we both shake heads in disbelief. But, to his defence, James often shifts from defiance to confusion, a very common trait of those under the control of the dumb machine.

“He stood right in front of you!” Henry growled.

“When you do so many drugs, Henry, you never know what is real, and what is not. The man kicks the bucket, and suddenly he is in front of you, I mean, come on!”

“I acted like an imbecile because I thought I was dreaming”. This is the most ridiculous argument I ever heard! You better straighten up, James.” Henry is irate, red splashing all around him.

“Yes, Henry…”

I get detached from reality for just a second, and recall how I took James last night. I told him the truth. I said I was hopelessly in love with his female avatar. Also, as much as I am tormented by it, I do have the equipment, and I can use it. James readily agreed.

I did not last long, for I wanted her so much. But, as Sheba knows so well, there is a line of people to be with Jess. So I had to wait my turn. The buildup was immense. She is most captivating in both avatars.

It was such a pleasure to be able to have her… I am still deeply in those incredible feelings when Henry calls me to back him up.

“Mr. Smith, how would you describe Mr. Kellspell’s behaviour with His Highness today?”

Startled, I quickly get back into reality.

“Defiant, Lord Carlton.”

“Oh, come on, Wallace…” James moans.

“Mr. Rockford?”

“Very inappropriate, Lord Carlton.”

“Mates, seriously, what did I do…”

“I am going to explain for the last time, James. His Highness is not your “buddy”. He is our…”

“Sovereign?” James opens up his eyes really wide.

“No. But close.”









        EIGHT STALKS OF BROKEN CELERY
   
    Censored  {alaetar, AKS, Kriagir Dorilin}



“She is worthless in his eyes.
She’ll stay worthless till she dies.”

James, after a fight with H.M.
over women’s rights.


“You are worthless, unless you are CHOSEN, like Henry.”

James, distraught over problems in his relationship with H. M.


“If you do not follow my rules, find somebody who cares.”

H.M., to Jim’s request to have
compassion for his “hoarding disability”.


“Worry not about me. One more cigarette, and I will dive right back into the torment with no end. I promise, I will not utter another word of complaint. It does not do us any good. Grace is only for the Chosen.  I understand that. Someone gets it all, and most get none. Thank you, everyone.”

James, really wanting to kill himself, but knowing he promised to take that option off the table, no matter what.




“So, am I worthless?” Matushka asks, after James is done vomiting out what he thinks about the current state of things.

“Yeah!” He confirms readily. “Your husband is going to give me a black eye for that, but I am used to it. Before he does that, though, I will help you with your pain. Here.”

“What is this?” Matushka looks at a package of celery sticks from a grocery store. “Did you take this from the kitchen?”

“U-huh” James finishes his 20th cigarette in two hours (generally he is only allowed 10 a day), and pulls one stalk out of the plastic bag. “Here, I will show you what to do. You husband wanted me to take away your pain. Would you like to learn how?”

“I would.” Matushka says cautiously, and takes a stalk just like James did.

Then James twists the stalk, and breaks it in half with a blissful smile.

“Do it. Do the same.” He encourages. “It feels very good.”

“OK.” Matushka twists and breaks the stalk.

“You just broke the neck of your hopes.” Jim comments, his eyes glazed with pleasure.

“I did not want to do that.” She responds, and holds the broken stalk, as if trying to bring it back together.

“Break your hopes. Abandon them. It is the only way to avoid pain.” James encourages.

Matushka drops the stalk, and covers her face with her hands.

“You must understand that there is only THIS MUCH GRACE!” James leans over Matushka. “There is not enough GOD’S ATTENTION TO GO AROUND. Most of the time He hands it all to his FAVORITES, and totally omits everyone else. You are not on His list of Grace distribution. Neither am I. Get over it!”

“That leaves me with no hope to ever get better!” Matushka resists, now sighing over the broken stalk of celery.

“A hope to ever get better” is what hurts you. Kill that, and you will turn into a walking, breathing shell of a person. We got abandoned. Come to terms with it. It is easier that way.”

“Is that what God’s plan is? James, how can this be?” Matushka stretches to hold Jim’s hand.

“I can only give you what I have.” He responds, his face emotionless, almost serene. “For the last five years i was taught to be humble, and it will come my way. And I was humble, and I swallowed every piece of abuse and disrespect H.M. had to give me. But today I can’t take this anymore. My partner on Level 1 told me that he will give me no compassion, and he will continue to treat me like a dog, or a toy. An indentured servant, in other words. And if I open up my mouth LOOKING FOR COMPASSION, I will be told to go look for SOMEONE WHO CARES.”

“That’s awful.” Matushka gets closer to James, and hugs him.

“U-huh.” In an unexpected move, James pulls a gun out of his pocket.

“James!” Matushka shakes her head.

“Don’t worry, I will not kill myself. Especially in front of you. Whatever my beef is, you are not a party to it.”

“Tell me your beef. If H.M. does not care to comfort you, I will.” Her eyes get red, and she is now crying.

“I can never turn down another suffering soul.” James puts down the gun, and they hug, and cry together.

“I can’t wait anymore. I am 47 years old. Five years with Henry brought me one volunteer assignment. Henry did arrange for the hungry me to sink my teeth into something. This assignment will run out in one month. After that it is back to daily service and emotional beatings, with nothing to look forward to. Just like you. You, sans the beatings. Dr. Michael loves you, I know.

But me? H.M. loves me on HIS TERMS ONLY. You do not want that, he says? Look for someone else.

But GOD TOLD ME TO UPHOLD THE COVENANT.

I WOULD HAVE FOUND ANOTHER MAN, IF I PUT MY MIND TO IT.

But God is telling me to stick to the Covenant I signed no matter what. And I will.

But as of today, I wash my hands of the situation. He would NOT let me leave the fucker, and He told me not to kill myself. AND He would not give me a single reason to carry on.

So, I am in WAY TOO MUCH PAIN TO CARRY ON. You are the witness, that from this moment on, I shut down all my feelings, because I am done.” James grabs another stalk, and breaks it with unbridled anger and passion.

“I have nothing to look forward to. My life is endless service to a rich fat cat, who told me upfront today, that he cares nothing for my emotional well-being. He told me that I must serve him on his conditions, or “look for someone else”.

Even my housekeeper is urging me to “look for someone else”. And I can’t. I tried, many times, for many years, but God would not let me. He says - this one is for you.

I said - ok, but will You please show me that you love me, please… You pamper your FAVORITES so much, and you barely EVER REMEMBER about me. While I am CARRYING MY FUCKING MOTHER AND MY FUCKING HUSBAND, neither of whom have any idea of COMPASSION.

(James breaks yet another stalk of celery)

I am being moved from one golden cage to another, and I get no respite, and no mercy. And Henry, my only consolation, was taken away from me. Matushka, if I can’t kill myself for good, I am going to lock up my feelings. From this day on. Until something changes. I suggest you do the same.”

Crack! Crack! This stalk gets broken twice, juice flying everywhere. Jim’s face is dark and sullen.

Matushka sits there, with her eyes swollen and red, surrounded by the broken stalks of celery, while the rug behind them is glowing flaming, boiling red.

“I feel sick, I am going to throw up.” James says, as he gets up, with the gun.

“You go purge in the bushes, but you leave this gun here.” She says firmly. “And after you come back, you eat something. You’ve been drinking all day, and you haven’t eaten a thing. That is why you are nauseous.”

“Yes, ma’am.” James leaves the gun, and goes out.

Matushka and I remain sitting in dead silence, with the sounds of Jim retching on the background.

“Did he beat you up, too?” She whispers to me, as if Jim can hear us, or, as if he would care.

“Yes.” I say curtly, so that my voice does not betray my torment. I can barely hold back tears after what James told me.

“For what?”

“I can’t talk. I do not want to break down in front of you.”

“But you can watch ME cry in front of YOU for an hour?” Matushka is a very capable verbal sharp-shooter, if I can put it this way. Her logic is lethal.

There is nothing left but do the same as James. Just vomit it out.

“He accused me of “eating Grace with both hands” my whole life, and “receiving a huge bucket of it by the age of 40”….” I choke back tears to see if I can actually pull through without making a scene. But Jim’s poison is the deadliest. Don’t talk to me about DeVo. He would have made the most venomous snake.

“Please, continue.” Matushka encourages.

And I let go, and just burst out.

“He accused me of being “the Favourite of God”, while, he, James, is 47, and there is no end in sight for him. And I better not come whining to him, now that I got discarded from the trough of Grace due to old age. At least, James, said, you TASTED THE FUCKING GRACE. AND ALL I TASTED IN LIFE WAS SHIT FROM H.M.”

Matushka does not respond. Her eyes are hooded. I know, she is working through what I said.

The sun goes down on our bleeding souls, and eight broken stalks of celery.



“Dear Henry, it kills me to write this, but I do not believe that we belong together.

You come to spend time with me, but then you go back to your very happy, and very fulfilled life.

I go back to my very painful life, in which nothing went right.

Today I was hit really painfully by H.M.

I want to end this relationship and start a new one, like Dave Marshall.  But Father would not let me, for I was CHOSEN to be a nurse in a mental hospital for $25 000 A YEAR WITH NO WEEKENDS OR VACATIONS. It’s been 21 years of this.

I want to kill myself, but everyone is telling me “not to jeopardise the mission”. Well, why should I care about the “Mission”, when no one cares about me?

You may not enter my Uret until something changes. It is better that we do not see each other for a while. Until I am settled in my new role of a stuffed animal (a dog on a leash) that I was given. I decide to change it into a “heartless zombie”, because it is kind of more fun.

I do not give a shit about this Mission anymore.
I do not give a damn about you, either.

I just want MY LIFE TO CHANGE.
OR, PLEASE STRIKE ME DOWN.
OR I WILL RIP UP EVERY CONTRACT I HAVE SIGNED.

But something is going to change.

You think I do not have the balls?

Watch me shut the doors.

Goodbye,
James
(Who am I to you, anyway? Someone who has the key to save your parents from another incarnation? I will give you this Key. Go fuck yourself with it.”








“Ok, we are done.” James says, somewhat distracted by his thoughts. “Let’s say a prayer. Remember, that our prayers are a conversation with God, who hears us ALWAYS. Then He sends us answers in many amazing ways. We just have to be attentive to the ways He does it. It is why we always record ALL MIRACLE-type events in our “Conversations with Father” diaries.”

I take a deep breath and watch the morning sun hit Jim’s dark Irish hair (in his male avatar), and his unshaven face. In his DeVo he cares nothing about looks, only comfort, and without Henry yelling at him, in these two months he had no one to remind him about hygiene.

“Let us ponder two questions during our prayer” James continues, and I know this is a dream, because no matter where, or when James is, I see the SUN touching his features.

#1: Where is God and how can we hear Him?
This is what I want from you here:
If you can ALWAYS hear your dumb ego, how come you can’t hear Father? Where is He to your opinion? How can you get closer to Him? How can you hear Him better?

#2 Who are we to God?
I will clue you in: IF we remembered that we are God’s BELOVED CHILDREN, how the fuck can we believe the ego when it tells us that God “punishes” us. Figure me this, Batman.

And the last one, you spawn of the devil:

By the end of summer we will be dumb and dumber! Ponder this, bitches! Class dismissed!”

Even before everyone got up from the rug:

“Oh…” Suppressed giggling from Matushka. “Jesus, I just peed my pants. I have to go upstairs and change!”

I get up first, my knees burning. Richard sits with his head down, still, as a winter landscape. It fits, for now he is completely gray now. Last time I saw him, he was salt and pepper.

Matushka, trying to go fast up the spiral staircase, while laughing: “James, you are the weirdest guy I have ever met! Who ever finishes a prayer with “ponder this, bitches!”?

“Yeah! “Jesus, I just peed my pants!” James lifts his head, bright-eyed. “Is a much better ending!”

“What did I tell you about respecting my wife?” Dr. Michael gets up from the rug, and it’s red into yellow all around him.

“Oh, I can handle him!” Matushka is now almost up there, only her voice can be heard. “The only reason I peed my pants is because the priest finished his sermon with “by the end of summer we will be dumb and dumber”, while crumpled and smelly himself, with a mess of a bedroom in the background… And when I am back, James, you better clean your room, and you take a shower, or you are not sitting at my table!”

Kellspell, about to answer, is now standing there with his mouth open. “That was a low blow.” He says just with his lips.

“You heard her, James. Get to it!” Dr. Michael places a hand on Jim’s shoulder, and turns him towards his bedroom.

“She would not have seen my mess if my bedroom had four walls.” James says, as he is being directed to deal with his personal issues.

“This bedroom would have had four walls if I did not have to watch two rapists.” Dr. Michael responds, his voice harsh and his face most determined.

“I get it.” James hangs his head.

“No, not yet!” There is threat in Dr. Michael’s voice. He hides it quickly, but it leaves a deep painful scratch on my soul. I can only imagine how James feels now that justice is finally upon him.

And then I can look it up on the Arkchil Record. And be shocked at what he REALLY felt.

As I follow James, Richard gets up, and goes to the kitchen, slowly, and deep inside of himself, moving like a zombie.

Only Tia Demetra remains on the rug, and the pattern around her is Classic Leot Colors. Meaning: her true state is being concealed from us for the purposes of privacy.

I was offered the same protections after the producers on the Andromedan side found out that I was uncomfortable with everyone seeing my real feelings.

The sun is going up.

In the evening, however, it will still be here.






“I know I made many mistakes in our relationship, James. I understand if you are having second thoughts about our Covenant. If you do not want me anymore, i can help you find another decent, strong top in London. I know hundreds of gay men, literally, hundreds. I can make phone calls to single gay men, and arrange for a date, or for you to interview them, ok? They ALL will be Rate A tops. Would you like that? Would that be a right way of making it up to you?”

James, holding the phone away from his ear, to me: “I do not know what is going on with my life! I lost an Alpha, now I am losing my ACTING Alpha!” To Henry, into the phone: “Whatever they did to you at that mental institution, Henry, you are not yourself! This is not the Henry that I know!”

“James, listen, I had time to reflect, and maybe I am a different man now.”

“Blyat!” James swears, looking at me. “Henry, this is not a phone conversation, for the love of God. When are they letting you out?”

“When you forgive me.”



To me: “Wallace, please look up how many heart attacks can they give you in one week before any risk for your health?”

“Can you say that in Russian?” I plead.

“We are not playing “Dadya Vanya”, Wallace! The forces of nature are after my Aplhas, and even my pseudo-Alphas! There will be no one left to run this show, if I do not put my foot down!”

I give him the cutest face I can muster.

“Fine! Henry, hold on. “Sili prirodi pitautsa otnyat moix muzhikov, Uolles! I Genri s dubu ruhnul! There. And I am not playing any more dumb medieval Russian characters!”

“My time is up for today, James, but I will call you tomorrow.” Is Henry’s response on the other end, as I bask in my fantasies of being Russian. They feel especially real when James speaks to me in Russian.

“Honestly, Wallace? You had to interject! Those were his last five minutes! There WAS no time to play into your fantasies!”

I stand there with a VERY SAD face. I am an omega. I would not think of bringing attention to myself like that. I was ORDERED to interject, because James was barking up a wrong tree with all the energy worthy of a better application.

But I must cover up the fact that Jim’s omega is Jim’s Leash.

“Yes, that’s what Sheba said - the Arkchil Operator is invisible. He has no voice, no lines, no opinion, and Kellspell never plays with him.” I bow low and try to kiss his hand.

“Ah, Uolles… You are very cute, but I am a little too stressed right now for the signs of your affection.”

That’s what gets me off. When he says my name with a strong Russian accent. Russian alphabet does not have “W”.

“I need your expert opinion!” James lifts me by my chin. “You knew Henry a lot longer, and better than me. Is this normal for him? To turn 180 degrees like that?!”

“I must say that NORMALLY he comes across a lot… um… smoother and nicer than what I have witnessed in the 14 months he’s been on on the set. But the filming set is far from a private arrangement. I never knew him privately. You are the one who… ahem, was intimate with him just about every day. Every night.”

James stares at me with a mask of desperation on his face. “OK. It’s time for Sheba-style investigative journalism. Who else here knew him before me?”

“Plenty of us, but all of it would be professionally only. I also noticed him being more on an even keel, maybe?” I try to force myself to look into Jim’s eyes, and I can’t. His overwhelming, powerful personality makes you feel small.

 “Then it’s got to be the drugs.” He concludes. “Do you think we can nurse him back to his old self when he gets released?”

Sensing my mood, James grabs my shoulders and kisses my forehead. That compels me to look at him.

“I kind of like the new Henry. Why would you WANT his old sharp-edged persona back?” I say very quietly, burning with shame while swimming away with a hardon. That’s what James would call it, yes. He would also say that word looking at people. The man is truly unhinged. I get hard when he grabs me, and dominates me like that.

“If I don’t bring the old Henry back, who is going to lead us?”





“Here are the news, James. Even if you bring Henry back with all the machinations you have lined up, he is not going to lead us.”

It is, indeed, 5:23 pm, and the sun is below the tops of the pine trees. I’m just off the phone with Henry.

A table was brought in, and we are having tea on it. Matushka and i.

Richard is tinkering with the rails of the spiral staircase behind us, fixing something Dr. Michael told him to do.

“HE DOES NOT WANT TO BE THE LEADER?! Sheba did bite him right before she collapsed!!!” James gasps, but then gets a hold of himself and starts a cigarette. “And now he is IT.”

“Maybe Henry has learned to govern his emotions.” I say, savoring Matushka’s excellent tea.

“Maybe I just lost MY BEST MAN!” James growled through his teeth.

“Maybe you should give me some lines, James.”

“Oh!” James shakes his head and drops on his knees in front of Matushka. “Say what you want, my Lady, but we are LEADERLESS!”

“Say what you want, my husband is qualified to lead us.”

“OK.” James kisses Matushka’s hand. “Then who is going to fuck me?”

“JAMES!” Appalled, I even get up.

“Is that your way of telling me to go fuck MYSELF?” He smiles at me.

I could try and get mad at him, but it is simply not in my nature. Besides, Matushka is laughing.

This is literally only a second time I have seen her happy. Since I arrived to the set.
(My official entry date six of {censored} LS, Kriagir Dorilin, but I came 2 months prior to that date.). That makes it four months.

“You don’t have the screw to finish the job? You should have thought of it earlier, Richard! You are done for today. Go take a shower!” Dr. Michael waves Mr. Rockford away, and then goes straight for James.

Dr. Michael grabs James by his collar, and drags him away from Matushka’s side.
“If you hurt her in any way, you will know my wrath.”

“Yes, Dr. Michael, obviously!” James goes limp in his powerful hands, and his head hangs down.

“You are to treat her like the queen that she is, and you are to do your best job!”

“Hugh, come on, let go of him!” Matushka is amused by the show.

“Repeat what I said.” Dr. Michael hisses to James through his clenched teeth, pulling at the collar of his shirt tighter.

“I am to treat her like the queen and give her the best blowjob!” James gasps through laboured breaths.

Dr. Michael’s face gets a dangerous frown, but Matushka is laughing.

“That was very funny, James!” She says, and Dr. Michael begrudgingly lets go of Jim.

“For you, my Lady, “To Really Love A Woman”, by Brian Adams!” James announces one of his most favorite songs since he was a youngster.

The song starts playing, as I pour Matushka more tea.

Richard comes back after having taken a shower. Dr. Michael orders him to the kitchen to start making dinner.

I pull up my bridgeplate and touch the green cloud on top, and then read the resulting verse.

“This sinner is going to make dinner!” I point towards Richard.

Matushka finds it very funny, as she gets up and we start clearing the table.

Dr. Michael gives me a frown, and leaves to help Richard.

“How do I get my Henry back, boss?” James gets up and fixes his shirt.

“You heard him. You must forgive him, and he will be released. Help Matushka and come to the kitchen.”











“As I was running the comparative analysis of Richard’s personality development and mine, I heard the machine say (respond to its pre-programmed protocol): “Look, he was a different person and different times, he was allowed to be this, and then chase that, then he found joy, because he was working with this very talented woman. HE WAS ALLOWED TO TRY EVERYTHING, AND YOU WERE LOCKED UP FOR 40 YEARS.”

James sighed, and sat on the rug like a deflated lawn Christmas decoration.

“Is that what the distorted protocol is giving you? Tell me more”. Moretr encouraged.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Chapter 128

A Rug of Communication/Mood Revealing Device was brought, and placed right between the spiral staircase and our bedroom.

It was round, and red today. That’s why Prince Moretr came over.

The rug changes colors depending on what emotional states it catches. This simple device allows us to bring others’ attention to our mental state. You come, sit on the rug, and it takes up the color of your mood for everyone to see.

Well, obviously, not me. Thanks for warning me. Whew. Now that I know what it does, you will not catch me dead sitting on it.

So, if the rug is red with no one on it - attention is needed for the whole team. As in: the team’s temperature is going up.
A team thermometer, how’s that. James will explain more about its origins.

Red for agitation, but if the rug’s colors float towards green - you are good.

Question is, will we use it. Who is not afraid to reveal their true mood?

I am not going near it.
And if I know Henry, he will not go near it.
Mr. Rockford that I knew would not sit on it either.
But Mr. Rockford has confessed and surrendered. I am witnessing the new Mr. Rockford. There is new strength and new repentance in him. And a new adherence to “obey your queen in everything and do not rely on your own judgement. This is where pain comes from.”

This new man will do whatever his queen will tell him to do, and his “Queen” is James in his female avatar.

Yeah, interesting changes here.

Right now there are James and Prince Moretr on the rug. Jim’s side of the rug is red, with yellowish and rusty swirls.

James is itchy, restless, and longing to stop hearing the stupid ego-voice that took away his peace.

Prince Moretr’s side of the rug shows one of the official patterns of Eridani family. In other words, a Sigil over his true feelings.

Not that he hides his feelings from us, but it’s just not our burden. His motherland is in throes of civil war, his wife is on the side of the rebels (if you can call them that), and his young daughter has ICAD. It’s, basically, AIDS.

If that was not enough, his mother initiated a genocide against his wife’s people.

In the simplest of terms.

None of it right now is of our concern. We have our hands full with ourselves.

But the most common of Earth men and the most sophisticated alien have one thing in common: they both long to stop hearing the stupid ego-voice that got them in so much trouble.

“I know I am not supposed to listen, but the Comparison Tool cuts SOOO deep. It feels like others are allowed freedom to be happy, and when they are no longer happy, they ARE ALLOWED to change whatever they are not happy about. Like, get new partners!”

What do you expect to hear when Ji gives you this ego-propaganda, and does not even know it.

But Prince Moretr wants the truth. He is genuinely concerned with our sincere understanding. And he would never give you what James calls “dumb advice”.

Prince Moretr is millions of years old. If that is not enough, he truly cares for the Emerald Filament project. So, his answer has to be not judgmental, but COMFORTING for James.

It is the only way for James to work. He needs to see if ANYONE cares about his pain. If he only has one ear to bend, he is good to go.

And they want hi to work. The Andromedans can pull it off, if they can raise an EGO-RESISTANT PURE AMALGAMATED TEAM, then they can copy our success, and see if they can fix their own society.

And maybe even stop the war.

So, now Moretr needs to see, what ego-protocols wash up in Jim’s mind, so he can follow through, and correct the improper thinking.

Proper thinking:
It is POSSIBLE to be happy JUST WITH GOD.

Jim’s current thinking: if only I worked as a writer, of only I had a project to inspire me, if only I was the “Chosen one”...

We ALL are like that. The ego-programming keeps on pointing at “other things”, that are BETTER THAN GOD.

This is what gets us all in trouble. White collar crime is all rooted in Comparison Tool that the ego tortures you with. “See, THEY have more money than you” the dumb machine tells you, “go find a way to get more money, and get away with it!” And people do.

James does not care about money. He wants to be the producer of his movie series, then the money is needed to pay the actors (he reasons in his mind). On a personal level, however, he finds money to be meaningless. It is what people do with it, he says. In other words, he does not dream to spend money on himself. He KNOWS it will not make him happy.

But TIME fo spend on himself - is a whole another matter. He is envious of those, who (as per the dumb ego) have time to spend on themselves any way they like.

That is why he used the Comparison Tool to see how much FREEDOM Richard was given in his life, as opposed to Jim.

“Basically, My Prince, I see that David Marshall (Level 1) divorced Andrea, and then each of them became happily engaged with another person. HAPPILY. And as they were divorcing, I was watching them, and thinking: it’s not going to work out. There is no happiness! And boom - five years later they are BOTH happy with someone else!”

“You were given other partners, too.” Moretr responds patiently. His task is not to “put James back where he belongs with his demands”, but to truly help him to understand how to be happy. Two different things.

“Yes. But this is what makes me bitter. It makes me bitter, for I listen to the dumb device, that tells me unbalanced crap, and it is the eternal “Fairy tale about the Fisherman and the Golden Fish”... But as much as I want to NOT listen, I still do. I am not going to listen any more fear-laced garbage - we are through with that, for sure. But as far as BEING HAPPY... Richard let me see the tapes, which fucked me over extremely painfully.”

“His tapes with Kate?”

“Yes! Everyone right now is talking about how he gave me a date-rape drug and did what the drug suggests.”

Jim’s Russian accent intensifies as he is getting heated up.

Moretr nods patiently, and with encouragement.

“BUT SO WHAT, you bitches. That was JUST ONE NIGHT!!! Better cry over what he HAD and I did not, like, my whole life! How about the fact that he had the freedom to leave his wife home with the kids, and GO TO WORK, where he managed to be HAPPY for quite some time (five years or so?), with Kate, as his colleague. Look at them giggling! Doing work together they are. Shamelessly happy with each other they are! FUCK! Rape me, tape me, as long as I get to be happy SOMEWHERE, at some point. But my torment never ends. I got raped fifteen times a month for twenty years, but THIS ONE TIME is what the public wishes to remember! Well, fuck you. It’s not about that at all!”

Knowing what we know about James, you would already tell the man to shut up and quit whining. That’s what they would have told me if I ever enjoyed his internal freedom to come out to the Mood Rug, and flaunt my rusty red into everyone’s face.

James loves this Andromedan rug. He thinks it was a birthday present for Lady Lion (as today is Tia Demetra’s 56th birthday).

The rug was brought last night. James woke up and watched the Arkabins position it not far away from the spiral staircase.

He, then, waited until they were gone, and got up to examine the new stuff.

He found that the rug was rather firm, and it’s top surface was “copy of the creature of the catacombs”.

In the morning I woke up and watched the footage of whatever I missed/needed to know about Jim’s yesterday’s interactions, and I stumbled on the footage of his nighttime exploits before I noticed the actual damned thing.

James later explained to me, that the rug is an imitation of “Peregrinus Rule” algorithms. A whole another story. We will definitely get to that, as the Creature of the Catacombs under Nasarat City, named Peregrinus Rule, is our friend, and he is backing us up with everything he’s got.

My personal feelings about the rug: I will make sure to never come near that rug. Are you kidding me? For everyone to know my true feelings?!

This is what I am thinking as James complains about not being happy with H.M., and wishing he had someone with whom he would be TRULY HAPPY.

What about this person, that person, they were not happy, and God gave them someone to be happy with, how come I am not happy?

Basically, he wants Henry back, while fully aware that his addiction to Henry cost him his team, his school, and his reputation.

But James can’t say directly “I want Henry back”. He says “I want to be happy.” To him, it is the same thing.

“Let me talk to your mates.” Moretr says.

James nods in a trusting manner.

“Hey, happy birthday.” He gets up from the rug, and walks by me slowly.

Matushka, Dr. Michael, Richard Rockford and yours truly are invited to the rug.

Prince Moretr hands me the envelope.

“Mr. Smith, please open the envelope and read what it says.

I do that and pull out the paper.

“Dr. Michael is the only one of the team whose MORAL COMPASS is in working condition.”

Written by Jim’s hand.




OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO


EMERGENCY MESSAGE

3407 155 th Ave E. Parrish 34219

REG. J.KELLSPELL:   I NEED HELP. MEDICAL.

APR 9   -  10 AM        ADAM LEROY


OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO



“Rockford is out of bounds, James.” Dr. Michael whispers to James. “He committed adultery. Do you not see this?”



“So, why Henry?”

“I know why!” James exclaimed with joy. “I see the twisted protocol: “IT IS OK TO SUBMIT TO ANY TREATMENT AS LONG AS THE ONE YOU SUBMIT TO IS THE CHOSEN ONE. They must be “Chosen ENOUGH”.

“So, who else, BESIDES Henry, meets these requirements?” Moretr asked us.

“I do.” Dr. Michael responded.

“Absolutely.” James nodded.





“You have half an hour.” Uki Kumlatov said sharply to James as he opened the door, and basically, pushed the man in.

“Henry!!!” James jumped up and started towards his beloved mate, but, weakened by so much, he stumbled, and fell on the floor. “My Alpha stepped down… He was forced to step down, due to misconduct... What the fuck, Henry? I can’t believe this is happening to me… To us…”

Henry quickly crossed the bedroom, and lifted James off the floor. He was bleeding out of his bottom lip. Probably hit it as he fell. “Henry… Kumlatov is relentless, and we now only have 28 minutes. They took you away from me for two months, and now they are giving me… 27 minutes to fix it all, to talk to the only man who ever made me happy…”

Even as he was being placed on the bed, Jim’s head was down in complete defeat.

Matushka brought him a glass of water, and I brought him a napkin to press over his smashed lip.

I started carrying napkins with me at all times, for my perpetually bleeding James.

“I do not want to rehash what we already know. I know Rockford was charged with sexual assault, and now you took him in to protect him. I watched the footage. This is not our concern right now. Tell me better, why you MADE A MOVE to put out the Flame of our Love? I thought we signed the Covenant.”

Jim’s head on the pillow lays at such an angle that it feels separate from the rest of the body.

And then this awkwardly detached head starts crying. Matushka and me shudder. But we faithfully sit on the bed by Jim’s feet, holding hands.

Neither one of us has any lines in this scene, or any decision-making power on the set, but we are determined to support James no matter what. He’s got to have SOMEONE on his side.

“We have 24 minutes left, James, let’s not waste it. Tell me more.”

Jim’s head turned just a little, and now all Jim can see is Henry’s shoes, as he is standing over the bed.

“I watched the footage, too, Henry. Your footage on Level 1. It’s been rough five years for both of us, and I will not wish on anyone the pain you are in, because you are gay, in the closet.”

“I am not gay, James! I have a wife and two children!”

That’s what I said. About myself. But we listen on.

“The point is, Henry, you are enjoying your life, because you are a royal. And you will always be enjoying your life. I questioned myself, as to why I let Krotkie talk me into signing the papers WITH YOU. Why? You should never fall for more than your pocket can afford. We could not be more far apart from each other. I feel stupid.”

“I have not abandoned you! I called you, almost every day. I left you messages and gifts. I sent my people to give you a job!”

“True. All true. And thank you for the job. The British Engagement was brilliant. It is a temporary job, though. It will run out in two months. After that I am again alone with my pain and my lifestyle of a nurse in a mental institution with no days off. See, I am the pig, for once. An ungrateful pig.” James adjusted himself, and then his head belonged to his body again. “I should be thankful to you, for pulling strings, for a movie company TO FIND ME and offer me this totally unique job. But instead, I am bitter.”

“I am listening, James. We have fourteen minutes left. After that they are going to take me away. I suggest you spit it all out quickly, because we can’t talk on the phone. When I phone you, you do not pick up. And then I call Wallace, and you order him NOT TO PICK UP THE PHONE. Forgive me, James, if I feel a little bit bitter and put off, too.”

Well, that is a fair stab. Matushka and I exchange glances, and nod to each other. Since, obviously, no one cares what I went through, standing there, NOT PICKING UP, knowing IT WAS HENRY. Wallace who? That’s what Sheba was upset about. Personal Arkchil Operator does not count.

“I was told to quit you cold turkey, Henry! But deep down inside...”

“Deep down inside you wonder what does this top-of-the-world aristocrat want with you?” Henry walks there and back, digs in the pockets of Jim’s pants on the bed, and finds a pack of cigarettes.

“Yes.” James breathes out, and sits with his head down, as he is holding to his lip with a napkin glued to it.

“I believe in James Kellspell! I want him to follow through with his insane plan of channeling the aliens who will save the Earth. I have never heard anything like that before. That’s what I want with you.”

“You believe in all that?” James said defensively. “Not a surprise. EVERYONE knows you did not pass two mental evals in a row, Henry.”

I can’t believe Jim’s aggression. Has he forgotten who Henry is to him? Who Henry is to all of us!

But Henry is not rebuffed in a slightest. He seems to be a sail full of wind.

“Did you see the letter I sent to my most venerated employer?” Having regained his footing, Henry goes on the offensive.

Lord Carlton shocked us all, actually, this morning, when we received these news. He wrote to his employer that he refuses to follow through with his responsibilities until his female coworkers are paid the same.

“I hope you understand the difference between a publicity stunt, and a sincere desire to see the change in this world?” Henry looked for a lighter, but Richard was already holding it in front of him.

“Thank you, Mr. Rockford.” Henry nodded. Even with this emotional explosion Henry was rather subdued as opposed to his normal self, to my opinion. It would be either drugs they gave him at the mental institution, or the heavy thoughts. I found them to be of almost equal power to the drugs.

“Yes, and that was incredibly brave, and very noble of you.” James reached out for Henry’s hand, but the latter moved away. “That incredible move still changes nothing for me. I am not in physical pain, or a need for anything, and thanks God for that. But I have nothing to look forward to in life. You made a public stand. At your own personal expense. And the History will remember you. But it is all the same to the old Bonzo. I will die in this cage.”

“No, “old Bonzo” is me.” I whisper to Matushka, and that pulls her out of her own mental rut.

Henry gets dark, and bores a hole in Jim’s forehead.

Which does not faze James.

“These events are very far away from me, Henry.” James returns the stare, and to my surprise, Henry backs down, his face calm, and his eyes attentive, with no hint of a threat. “They are happening OUT THERE, where people enjoy life! But there is NEVER enough Grace for everyone! Here, I am in tremendous amount of (mostly emotional) pain, sitting in a golden cage with a few DISCARDED DERELICTS!” He glances at me, Rockford AND Matushka. “And nobody is coming here for us... So, maybe, you need to go enjoy your Grace, and I will get a bigger bucket for my tears.”

“Mr. Rockford and I will beat James up for calling YOU a “discarded derelict”. I say very, very firmly, and expect Matushka to be furious.

But she is laughing.

“Would you please keep it down, my Lady, we have no lines in this scene, and no say in their domestic.” I whisper.

“That’s why I am laughing.” Matushka explains, making an effort to stop.

I have not seen her smile, let alone LAUGH in all the long months I’ve been here.

Isn’t THAT a breakthrough, gentlemen?

As if... James and Henry are HenryJames again, an Amalgamated Creature. Once together, without hesitation, they became deeply involved with each other, just like Sheba predicted. They smell each other, and the world ceases to exist for them. Sheba’s notes really help me get up to speed with what is going on.

But... The saddest part is yet to come. Kumlatov was not kidding.

The door opens, and everyone finds their hearts on the floor.

“You have five minutes left, Lord Carlton.” The Arkabin says. These Yanari Arkabins are so large they would have to walk into a door sideways. But I think the doors in THIS compound were made with them in mind.

“Listen very carefully, James. Give me six months, and I will give you Grace.” Henry says and puts out his cigarette into a yellow aluminum ashtray with the word “Aeroflot” on it.

“Why? What do you care if I taste Grace or not? What do you want with me?” James moans, watching the Arkabin in the doorway, sensing it to be the end of their short visit.

“I want you to man up and pick up your phone!” Henry hisses in Jim’s face and leaves.

“You still have two more minutes.” The Arkabin begins, as Henry tries to get past him in the doorway.

“This is not a car wash!” Henry snaps and pushes his way out of the door.

My, goodness, farce!

Just when we all got ready for a sappy goodbye love scene…!

“Sheba Of Salem also said that Henry never disappoints.” I lean to Matushka, only too happy to play a narrator for her.

“I know! I read all four books!” She nods readily. “Well, that was a lovely performance with an unexpected twist at the end! Wallace? 5 o’clock tea at my place?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Let me call Dr. Michael and tell him to be ready!”

And we both get up and walk away, and up the spiral staircase, leaving James and Richard to their devices.
















WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

    THE SHEPHERD’S APPRENTICE
(Under Rockford-Kellspell-Smith Alliance)

          CHAPTER 127 (from 119)


   AROUND THE SPIRAL STAIRCASE


“I have been envying you! I have done you both wrong! Please teach me a lesson!” I make my idiotic appearance from around the spiral staircase.

“Please get in line!” James is on the bed, holding on to his head, then rubbing his face with both his hands, while Mr. Rockford is on his knees on the floor by the bed.

“MY ALPHA JUST SURRENDERED TO ME!!!” James howls through his hands. “And he wants me to punish him for his transgressions against me! I told him he was full of shit, but Prince Moretr confirmed. The transgressions did take place, so, legally, I am now trapped with his tail in my mouth!!I am so stupid... Wa-allace! For four years I was waiting for my Alpha, and I got four omegas. On the fifth year I get an Alpha, and not even one month into it, he folds into the same basket with the omegas! I can’t believe my eyes!!!”

“I will still top you, Jess, it will be my honor.” Richard whispers with his head down.

“You’ve got to be kidding me! You surrendered to me! That technically makes you my bitch. My omega! How can an omega top a beta?”

“An omega is topping an Alpha as we speak, at the Levins.” I remind to the distraught James.

That gets him thinking.

“Your omega will do whatever you order him to do.” I suggest, helping Mr. Rockford with everything I have.

“My “omega” needs TO BE IN CHARGE! Mr. Rockford came in a guise of a leader, into a family that was in a dire need of a LEADER. Only in one month he discarded it, and underneath there was um... a guilt-ridden person. In fact, so steeped in guilt, that he had to build a front, and sit there, for the rest of his soul was flooded with pure guilt!”

“It’s been TWO months, Jess.” Richard says. “I did come wanting to be the Lead Alpha of the Emerald Filament project. That sounded awesome, and I did have the rights to take charge. But during those two months you aced all tests and I didn’t. You passed the mental eval, and I haven’t. I did you wrong, and you forgave me, and wanted to hide me from whoever was coming to punish me. The audiences wept, when they saw you hysterical on the floor, talking about barricading the bedroom to protect me from justice. YOU. They saw you. I realized that I could not take control of you. I am simply not worthy! How can I be a leader? I REALLY do not know what I’m up against. And you do!”

Jim is unmoved, sitting on the bed, seriously traumatised to witness his Alpha step down.

“James…” I say quietly, and get nowhere.

My mate is unresponsive, rigid and wide-eyed, like a stuffed cat the Egyptians used to put into pharaoh’s tomb.



All James does is close one eye. Now he is staring Richard down with one eye. He calls it “cutting the radiation in half”.

As in: he is radioactive when pissed off. He, then, closes ONE EYE so it does not hit us as much.

“Well, I can’t be in charge.” He finally says through his teeth. “I only passed the fucking mental eval by ONE POINT. The reason I knew the eighth answer was because I calculated the correct algorithmic sequence of the questionnaire, as opposed to using my moral compass. I must remind you that I have none. So, I am not leader material either.”

“You still DID PASS the mental evaluation. The last in class at the medical school is still a doctor.” I venture, and regret it right away.

No one can hurt you like James when he thinks you are full of shit. I feel like I am being shot with a Kalashnikov when Jim starts talking.

“Thank you for this lovely observation, Wallace. Must I remind you that this “doctor” did drugs, broke into people’s houses with criminal intentions, pulled a gun on his colleagues, and roughly half of his suicide attempts here on Level 2 were successful. Is there a more morally bankrupt leader than that?”

I take a deep breath, glance at Mr. Rockford, and open my mouth.

“Let me help you. The answer is “yes”, Wallace. If that is what you were going for. There IS a more morally bankrupt leader than me!”

“Like, who?” Richard says without lifting his head.

And that is funny. I could come up with half a dozen names, but Richard’s mind is just not here. It is racked on its own internal suffering.

Also, those other half a dozen names are NOT what James is warming us up for.

“Lord Henry Carlton”. Kellspell finally says rather loudly for his hoarse voice.

There is a minute of stunned silence.

As if, somehow, we hoped James would FORGET Henry when the position of a leader had conveniently come up?

Beleaguered and leaderless, we all nod.

“Then we have our leader, and you both will submit to him without another peep.”

We nod again. James finally gets from the bed, somewhat encouraged, looking less stressed.

“You will do what Lord Carlton tells you to do, and I do not want to hear Sheba-style investigative journalism into his underhanded dealings. I also do not EVER want to hear any shit about how unforgiving he is. You will take what he gives you, and you will like it!”

I could have said “yes, sir.” But anyone can do that. Instead, I pressed the green cloud on the bridgeplate, and read off the surface:

“Our sweetheart, dear James!
He’ll kick ass and he’ll take names!”

And then, to astonished Richard:

“You are lovely, you are great!
You’re gonna pull your weight.”

“I’m not sure I like this poem weaving app.” Mr. Rockford says sadly.

“You will like what Lord Carlton tells you to like!” James growls and brings up his bridgeplate. “Now that the crap is settled, let’s see how we can break him out. U-huh... Now we are talking!! Finally, A BREAKTHROUGH! Ok, what would Henry do? He will have a plan. What is the plan? Let’s write the algorithm.”

James writes the following in less than two minutes.

I receive it on my bridgeplate:

“Goal: To get Henry out of the slammer.

Means:
Who is on our side UNCONDITIONALLY?
(Like St. Merelion Broadcasting Station)

Utilize all available personnel.
Feel public opinion;
Get them to believe what I need them to believe;

Distribute a petition to bring Henry back on the set. I dare the Palir circle not to sign it. I will kick their asses off this ship.

Reach out into my karmic account. It is going to cost a painful lot, but what better purpose.

Thank God for this INCREDIBLE BREAKTHROUGH. Two months of waiting were not in vain. We grew balls and we are FINALLY ready to fight for Henry!

Personnel ready to be deployed:
Reg. James Kellspell
Richard Rockford
Wallace Smith
Kyle Merritt
Lady Anne (if necessary)
Matushka (willing to work big time, but go easy on her for now)
Dr. Michael (possibly)
I wish Isaak was in, but he will only be in if I answer his question as to why the innocents suffered. Fuck, a kingdom for that one. But he is right. I will never stop digging.
I wish Krotkie was here, he would have conquered a kingdom for Henry. But my Krotkie is on the other assignment.

Points to penetrate:
Uri Kumlatov (he is the one who is pissed at Henry the most, so I am the one who has to take him. Another possible path is to send the incredibly lovable, cute Wallace)
Prince Moretr (he’s got to make Henry’s charges go away, come on!!)
Call St. Merelion’s Black Hexagon Broadcasting. Henry’s legal problems are grave, but I do have friends.

Tap into Andromedan public at large. What organizations/powerful families could be brought to our side?

Dig into my karmic credit account.”

 A little yellow cloud of hesitation hangs above the last point of Jim’s Memo.

“Wait, I already addressed that...” Appears on top.

Then he continues:

“How to put my personnel at work most efficiently:

James Kellspell writes to Uri Kumlatov: “Maybe two months of suspension from school has been enough, sir.”
Do not forget to mention my Alpha’s most shameful resignation. No, REALLY, Mr. Rockford?!!

James Kellspell also must plan how to work the people at large.

Note: Avoid Mr. August. He is still pissed over crap we did to him.

Lady Lion sees right through our machinations. Be very careful.

Lady Anne: do not let “my” ego hurt her. She started paying for us all. Let’s not lose the sight of that in my tunnel-vision style chase of Henry. This is how I lost Sheba.

Richard Rockford, the smartest of them all: send him to collect intel of the General Moods of the Andromedan audience, and the guests on Strobulus as to what they think happened with Henry. Make up a tear-jerker to get them to change their opinion about Henry, if necessary. Warm them up to sign the petition.

Sweet Wallace, then, goes around our Uret and Palir circles and begs people in the cutest of ways to sign the petition to get Henry out. Give them your best. Charm the crap out of them.

Note to self: do something with phantom pains. Fucking shit is killing me. Needles piercing, left side. Hurts like hell. But soon it all will be worth it. I sense the light at the end of the tonnel. I will see Henry.”

“Great memorandum, James.” I say in a very supportive way. “What does not kill us, makes us stronger.”

“What does not kill us, makes us angrier.” James corrects ruthlessly. “For two months every night I was trying NOT TO THINK ABOUT HENRY. And right before collapsing into unconsciousness, in my mind, I would kiss his hands and weep. Tomorrow, on your birthday, it will be sixty days since they took away my Henry.”

“Tia Demetra’s birthday, too.” I nod.

“Yes.” Jim’s face softens at the memory of Tia Demetra. She can be charming if she wants to. But it is not why he is attracted to her. He is attracted to her for her eternally bleeding heart.

“I’m tired of being angry because I am not with Henry, Wallace!” James continues, because nothing, not even Tia Demetra’s birthday, can distract him from Henry. “I honestly tried to quit Henry like a drug. More so, I lost friends because I crowned Henry my king. An Alpha came in, trying the crown Henry was wearing. Everyone said: Lord Carlton is a fake, the Great Pretender, blah, blah, take the REAL Alpha. I did. I enforced the Rockford Engagement and brought Richard onboard. Two months later, Rockford felt the weight of the crown, and surrendered via a sly legal loophole. Even as I tried to forget Henry, and honestly gave Richard a chance!”

I could say “Great job, James! You did everything you were supposed to do!” But anyone can do that. Where is my little green cloud?

“Let It rock, or let it roll,
I applaud your self-control.”

“Ha! You are funny, Wallace. Add to my list of tips to save Henry: write sweet poems about love and eternal commitment, distribute among Uret & Palir circles, groom them for signing of the petition to have Henry released and brought back to the set.”










“I am so sorry for your reaction to Kate.” Richard is restless, I hear him pacing there and back in front of James.

“Please do not be. You wanted to see my shame. Here we go.” James says, and they both fall silent, each deep inside of their own torment.

I am hiding behind the spiral staircase with my back to Richard and James.

I walked out. I could not take it anymore. One has all the Grace he can eat, another one is about to receive more Grace than he’d know what to do with, and MY life is over.

But, it is “a change of scenery”, to hide behind the staircase, cat style.

Who knew we would have so much fun with a spiral staircase instead of a fourth wall in the bedroom. Kudos to Dr. Michael for unconventional architectural solutions.

His task, however, was not to win an architectural prize. Hugh had the wall taken out to keep his watch over the two sexual offenders he needed to deliver to God before they found more victims to offend.

That was, pretty much, how Sheba saw it before she collapsed right there, not far away from where I stand right now.

There was only one offender then. James.

Offender #2 comes in, and the first thing he does is goes after Offender # 1. But Dr. Michael is ok with that. It ain’t gonna kill them. I respect his way of thinking.

See, they have already made up, and are now chewing away at someone else, instead of each other. Trashing your colleagues behind their back. Way to go, noble gentlemen.

But that’s not why I walked out.

“On an unrelated note,” Jim’s voice is now barely audible. He often gets quiet and subdued in the aftermath of his psychotic episodes. “I forgot to tell Prince Moretr about what the dumb ego told me. That is why I was upset, and I took it out on Kate. I know she is strong, and she can take it, but that is not an excuse. I always feel tremendously guilty after I hurt people. I can’t take it back, as she will be going through these tapes soon enough. She will know...”
 
I can’t see what they are doing now. On purpose.

My Alpha and my Beta are truly gorgeous. The first one is aging in the most graceful manner, and the second one is a vibrant, slender, long haired and green eyed Russian beauty. In her female avatar. Which she is with Richard.

They belong together. They shine together. An old fart like me does not deserve to even LOOK at her. Just kneel and worship.

I need to see her one more time... I turn around and look. If it’s the last thing I see!

“So what did the ego tell you?” Richard starts a cigarette, and brings the lighter to Jim’s.

“Yeah!” Jim takes a hungry pull on his cigarette. “The ego told me “blah blah, your engagement with the British will end, and you will not get another one, blah blah. But, see, Kate will get hers.”

“U-huh.” Mr. Rockford smokes, looking down, searching his mind palace. “It tells me the same thing every day.”

“True. What good does it do barking at more successful colleagues.”

“Maybe better not mention them at all. If they ever find out what I did to you, I will lose every single contract. And the media will not stop until they hunted me down.”

Rockford drops to his knees and kisses Jim’s hands.

“Thank you for this massive trump against you.” James smiles, admiring his Alpha’s features. “Can you smell this? My brain is on fire, thinking of all the possible ways I could expose you.” James chuckles and pulls a bottle of Canadian whiskey from the folds of Krotkie’s blanket. “And the shame you will be drinking by the barrel from every single person you ever worked with. They will make sure they will slam the door on their relationship with you. Publicly, if possible. Richard Rockford who?”

“Vivid.” Richard takes the bottle and drinks from it.

In a rare moment of zen they both drink, handing the bottle to each other.

The sun is down, so am I.

“And then Kate will be laying awake in the dead of night, thinking: Rapist? Richard? MY Richard?! I’ve been working with him this long, this tight. WHAT DID I MISS?!”

Rockford lays down, and closes his eyes.

“She would never say “MY” Richard. She does not care about me THAT MUCH. Other than that you understand me like no other.” He finally says.

James finishes the bottle, starts another cigarette, and hands it to Richard.

“That’s because I am not any other.” Kellspell gets up, and looks up to the apartments on the second floor.

“Dr. Michael is making kimchi again.”

“I’m game.” Richard says, admiring Jim’s was incredible curves.

“Who says they will invite IS?” James smiles, and continues with his observations.

“The lights are off at 7:37 pm at the Levins’. It means that Lady Lion has called Tia Demetra to do her Daily Affirmations Of Loyalty IN BED, and they will not be coming for dinner with the Michael family.

“Nice work, young Detective.” Richard nods.

“Sextective.” James dishevels his hair in a gesture of excitement. “I can smell sex ten miles away. We move on spying on our elders. “My sweet Mr. Milgram is at it again. He will be drinking until I answer his question.”

“And what is YOUR question?”

“Let’s start there, thanks. I have more than one. First question is: if 89% of human population is straight, then that only leaves 11% to the LGBT. Therefore, proportionally, ONLY 11% of the pedophilic priests should have been gay. Yet, 100% of the victims are BOYS. How the fuck ALL of the priests-pedophiles were GAY?? The proportion of victims SHOULD HAVE BEEN 89% girls and only 11% boys.”

“Yeah.” Rockford nods.

“UNLESS...” James widens his eyes, prompting his audience to get scared at the prospect. “Unless the gay pedophiles KNEW ALL ALONG where they could get off, and BECAME PRIESTS for the easiest access to what THEY KNEW were BOYS ONLY grounds.”

“That leads you to the second question. See, I have learned your constant conversations with yourself. You are beating your head against what you can possibly tell Isaak Milgram.”

“I feel like I must defend God. It was not GOD who exposed those boys to harm. It was the PEOPLE. But I am long way from this punchline. My defense has to make sense. So, my SECOND QUESTION is this: ask Isaak next time, if there are CHOIR GIRLS. If there are, I am stumped. If there are NOT, then it reveals a lifelong planning on the part of hundreds of pedophiles who BECAME PRIESTS with only one goal in mind: rich fields of totally unprotected children. MALE children. THAT is worse than what he is currently drinking about.”

“What if THERE ARE church choir girls?”

“Then I literally give up.” James spread his hands and raised his brows. “It has to make sense. Shit has to make sense, my Alpha! Something is missing from the puzzle. Mr. Milgram is drinking and barking up a tree. But it is not the WHOLE tree. How come NO ONE asked as to why 100% of the victims were MALE? It is not so ON THE STREETS. On the streets, 89% of victims of sexual crimes are FEMALE. And that FITS THE STATISTICS. My mother was a STATISTICAL ENGINEER. Statistics of your case must make sense. Otherwise the gentleman upstairs is drinking and cursing HOMOSEXUALS, because IN HIS MIND “PEDOPHILE” and “HOMOSEXUAL” is the same fucking thing! And it is not!”

“The statistics will make sense. Bring your attention to you and me. What is the plan, Jess?”

“We don’t have a fucking plan, otets.” James rushes to Richard, and rubs his cheek on Rockford’s hand with a blissful expression on his tired face. “Therefore we do what Henry tells us to do, and discard what he thinks is a waste of time. We are going to have to. You want to get off even more? Here is our biggest shame: the Alpha and the beta will have to submit to the omega. As Sheba has noticed many moons ago, the Hammersmith Bride is the only one with a plan.”






“James, we need to talk.” Richard stops his beta as Jim rushes across our bedroom, and through the sliding door, to cross the lawns and cherry trees to get to Prince Moretr’s office in the middle of our compound.

“My Alpha, I love you and we will talk, but right now I am full of poison, and I can’t seem to be able to stop the machine from feeding me the wrong questions. I miss Henry terribly, I know that I AM NOT ALLOWED to experience longing, but I am deeply empty without him. That brings sadness over the fact that I spent my life struggling, being treated like crap, reimbursed very little, knowing very little joy, while others look so happy on those group pictures with their colleagues, where they were working on the project together, and they were respected for their professional skills. All that jazz has escaped me. I must seek help of a higher being to cleanse me of the gathering poison before I discharge it on one of you. This is what the dumb machine is telling me to do. It wants blood, and I will deny it blood. I need it to whither away, not get fed. It is not your fault that i feel detached and resentful right now.”

“What a coincidence. I can’t remember the time when I haven’t felt exactly the same. Come to me when you are done vomiting your confession. I have stuff to confess too.” Richard grabbed James by his shoulders, with his head bowed, however.

“Last time you confessed I had to be tranquilized.” James placed both his hand on Rockford’s cheeks. “And not because of what you did, but because of what I imagined they were going to do to you. Hold your thought. I’ll be back.”

“I do not want to hold it. I want to vomit it out.”

“I’ll come with the bucket. Stay put. Love you.” James kissed Richard in the lips before depressed Mr. Rockford could turn away. “Mr. Smith, you are coming with me!”




“My Prince! I know you are buzy...”

“Never for you.” Moretr walked away from the table and spread his arms to catch James.

James placed himself carefully in Moretr’s embrace. Moretr is a Grehedi, an amorphous creature. His appearance as a human is only but an illusion. His capacity for any physical strength is less than 10% that of a human.

The most a Grehedi can do with his hands is lift a cup of tea. And if you fly into his embrace as you would with a regular-sized human male, you will just knock him off his rather unsteady feet.

“I am in so much pain, my Prince! The other day I wrote a decent patch to shut up the ego-machine about “imminent death from some disease”. I told it that there is no death, that God is in full control of my body, and I am renting it from Him anyway. The stupid piece of junk shut up. It was a huge relief.”

“I know, good job. We are already working on copying your fear-defense algorithm. Millions are being tormented by the ego that whispers every kind of fear into their ears. Your algorithms will help greatly.” Moretr sat down on a rug on the floor, and offered James to join him.

“Yeah...” James sat by Moretr, then he laid down, placing his head on his lap. “But the Stupid is now tormenting me with the Tool Of Comparison. It hurts like hell to look back at my life and see nothing put pain. Look at my soul.... Can you comfort me? Can you say something that will explain forty years of non-stop pain?”

“It will be my pleasure to comfort you, my brave researcher. Legends will be created about you.”

“This bit is not helping, for sure, and at times it is even annoying.” James sighed and reached out for his cigarettes. “Future is too far away! What about NOW?”

Moretr was ready to answer, when there was a knock on the door, and one of Moretr’s dark-skinned, long-haired Arkabins let Richard in.

“Found operative crying by the door, sir.”

“Thank you, my love. Richard, please join us.” Moretr gave his Arkabin a sign, and soon we all were served with glass bottles of tea.

The glass, then, will be collected, and will be shipped to Moretr’s Stelarius-on-the-Sea Palace. The information absorbed by silicone in glass will be carefully analyzed, so that not a shred of James and his mates is lost.

“Thank you, my Prince.” It is all Richard could say before he fell to his knees in front of James. “Do not ever leave me alone...” Richard wept, holding on to James. “Jess, please be mine forever!! I did you wrong last night... I drugged you and I raped you, because I could not handle myself... I am not myself when I lust after someone I love... Jess, please forgive me! I know this is not the kind of an Alpha you wanted, but this is all I have, and you are my only sunshine...”

Mr. Rockford froze on his knees with his head all the way to the floor, and somewhat pushing against Jim’s legs as he sat on the rug.

“This is fascinating, my Prince!”  James brightened up, and ran his hand through Rockford’s short gray hair.

At least Richard HAS hair!

“He fell in Love with me 17 years ago, and since then he stalked me and looked for ways to get me to be with him. Once I let him, he changed my name, drugged me up and took me by force. He must truly love me. He is of the Chosen. That makes me Chosen. My Alpha is the best!” Kellspell brightens up.

“I raped you, Jess...” Richard crawled to James closer, and embraced his knees. His hands were shaking. “I gave in to my passions...”

“I don’t remember anything!” James whispered into Rockford’s hair, encouraged and uplifted by the flow of his precious Alpha’s feelings.

“That’s because I gave you a date-rape drug!”

“Which one, Mr. Rockford? How did you get it?” An amused smile played on Jim’s face, and he nodded to me.

“What difference does it make?” Rockford said in a tormented tone of voice.

“I just enjoy interrogating people. 50% of the time they have no idea what they are talking about. And the other 50% of them...” Jim broke off, as if he remembered something. “Let’s see which group you are with. You urged me to deal with it, and I will. So, did you give me Benzodiazepine? Or Ketamine? Maybe, GHB? All the effects are different, and I will be comparing your response with what I think I experienced, if anything at all. That is the only way to know if you are telling me the truth, besides simply looking up Arkchil record. But the last option is not available to everyone. So, let’s go with the good old detective work.”

Richard lifted his head, but remained silent and on his knees in front of James.

“That’s what I thought.” James concluded. “You did not give me any pill. You are just saying it to test my love for you. And my love for you is strong.”

Then he turns to Prince Moretr, winks at him, and points to Richard. “Says he slipped me a forget-me-pill. How can I forget a chunk of a HUNK like that?!”

“No, he gave you cat Valium.” Moretr corrects, his face a mosaic of colors as he watches his beloved Emerald Filament team members interact.

“Ha-hahaha!” James bursts out. “Precisely! I love Mr. Rockford’s humor!”

James turns his head around, as if asking for the audience to applaud. “Ketamine, then. True. I flew away, and I did not know why. I had the weirdest dream. In it, an artist was fucking me with his pencil, while I was his drawing... He, then, would re-draw me in a different position, and then fuck me this way. Wait a minute. This really happened. It is your favorite fantasy! Only in it I am much, much younger. My Alpha! You DID give me drugs! Where did you get Ketamine? Do we have a vet on board? And why didn’t you just tell me what you gave me!”

“He did not know what he was giving you, James.” Moretr offered.

“Oh.” Jim brought his face close to Rockford’s, and inhaled. “Whatever. How can I cheer you up? I love you. Keep up the good work. Welcome to the League of Extraordinary Nuts. This was excellent. How did you make me take the pill? Henry will be thrilled, right after we figure out how to use YOUR EXTRAORDINARY PASSION to make karmic credits. Otherwise it is just academic conjecture.”

“You need to punish me.” Rockford sighed and sat behind James, hugging him.

“I can’t. The smartest of us, Lord Henry Carlton, teaches us how not to lose our way in this world: only do what brings money. In our case it is karmic credits. Let me clue you in: we watch others with good karmic record, and see if we can copy the behaviour that seems to bring those others the most karmic credits. This is a perfect credit-making algorithm.”






“Ok, let’s move on to the next topic. Changing scenes the cat way. For example, you want to enter this bedroom. A dumb hairless ape will just barge in. It’s MY bedroom, right? WRONG! It is only yours when you are in it. You went out to shit - you come back, and there is a python in your bed! I’m not talking about your husband’s dick. Anyway, you stand right here, and sniff the air before entering...”

James invites Matushka behind the spiral staircase. They stand there together for a while, watching our bedroom. You might say that it does not get any weirder than that, but it is because you are new here. :)

“Now, I understand, that if I took a box, and put a guy in there, and closed the box, and invited you in, and asked you to sniff around, you would not know if it is your husband in the box, or some other dude...”

Matushka shakes her head no, while continuing to sniff the air thoroughly, as was suggested by her bossy DeVo’ing teacher.

“Therefore... You can stop sniffing the air, my Lady. I will ask you to rely on what little you humans have. Your eyesight and your hearing. Needless to say, these units are of very poor quality, so use both with all your might. One day the habits learned in the jungle will save your life! What do you see?”

“I see a very sad Mr. Smith with the Arkchil Operator’s bridgeplate, diligently doing his work.”

“...while his heart is breaking over being abandoned! Excellent! You gave me a very full picture, including the emotional color. Extremely important in the cat world. Any world, I would assume. You want to have sex with this hot babe, ok, fine, but she is not in the mood, and you missed that, you will experience 300 pounds of fury on your poor excuse for a cat. Serves you right. The color of her skin should concern you way less than the color of her mood. Way to go, my Lady!”

“Thank you!” Matushka smiled with satisfaction.

“What else do you see?”

“The bed is all messed up.”

“Yeah! A peek into a private life also gives you tons of intel you can use if you choose. You will make a fine addition to Catdom, my Lady! Poor sense of smell is a severe disability in the cat world, but you more than make up for it by using your other faculties! What else?”

“Mr. Milgram just finished drinking out of the bottle while looking down at us from the window of his apartment. He is standing with the empty bottle in his hand,  with his head bowed very low.”

“Another developing drama. Also very important to see what is above you. Humans assume that the skies are safe, and they are not. Assumption is the mother of all fuckers. Let’s not be that fucker. Or his mother.” James breaks off and sniffs Matushka’s lips. “I like your choice of food.”

“Is this a normal compliment in the cat world?” Somewhat put off, Matushka struggles with acceptance of cat ways. She, then, wipes her lips uncomfortably.

“Yes. Nothing to be afraid of. And here is the reason why: only those who are close to you can give you this compliment.”

“What about acquaintances?”

“Cats don’t have acquaintances. It’s either you are mine, or you don’t exist. We believe that we only have this much time, which must be spent on deepening your relationship with your family, and the rest is academical conjecture.”

“Got it.” Matuska nods readily.

“So, today we have learned to be aware of your environment, using your senses, and take nothing for granted. One day this will save your life. We also learned to discern the emotional colors, so you don’t get slapped by the babes. And we have learned that Mr. Milgram ran out of whiskey. Let me call Lady Anne.”

“Last question, teacher.” Matushka thinks for a second, I assume, for the best way to put it. “How do you know the size of my husband’s penis? By smell?”

“Oh, that’s easy. By the size of his nose. There is a correlation. And number two rule - if it does not fit into your mouth, it will probably not fit into your pussy. But that is more from my days when I was in porn.”



“Yes! It’s all about cats! Class dismissed! Mr. Smith, please call Lady Anne to bring Mr. Milgram two more bottles of Red Label. Jesus, he drank two bottles overnight. Also, please check on Mr. Merritt. I must go and see Prince Moretr now.”





“Gentlemen... I have news.” James walks in confidently into our bedroom, while folding away his bridgeplate on the go. “But since I’m not God, my news aren’t always good... Good God, what the fuck?!”

Richard is sitting on our bed, handcuffed. And I stand by him.

“Wallace? Please feel free to explain as to why my Alpha is in handcuffs. While you are preparing, I would like to help you both recall the mental eval you had to take when you were brought in to replace my old team. Everyone has to take that before they are allowed on the set. Do you remember taking the mental evaluation, gentlemen?”

Richard and I nod.

“Good. I just received the results. You both failed it. Wait....” James gasps. “Is that why Mr. Rockford is...?”

I nod again without raising my eyes.

“Oh, f...” James is grief stricken. “So, NEITHER OF YOU know right from wrong. And the word is out. My Alpha has been taken for doing crap before I could protect him... Jesus!!! I am late to save my Alpha!!!”

“These are the wrong lines, James.” I remind him quietly, barely able to speak, my voice breaking up. “You are supposed to be on the side of Justice, not on the side of your criminally-minded mates.”

James looks at me like I just grew a long dragon tail. And some ridiculous donkey ears.

“Very funny. But stand-up comedy is NOT your forte, Wallace. Truly and regretfully, you DO NOT know right from wrong...” James shakes his head disapprovingly. “Forgive me if this situation brings up my PTSD since the last time I lost Henry to the same thing. I am on the defensive for a reason. Who placed handcuffs on my Alpha, Wallace? Tell me, so that I calculate if it is even worth it to defend him as opposed to the amount of karmic credits I will lose for disloyalty. Who is coming for Mr. Rockford, Wallace? Don’t make me interrogate you.”

“It’s not like that.” I offer, putting my shaking hands on Richard’s shoulders. He sits motionlessly, with his head down.

“Please enlighten me as to what am I up against.” James starts a cigarette in a desperate attempt to calm down. “My animal instinct is telling me to defend what is mine. And this is where pain begins. Because this tremendously valuable and gorgeous Alpha is not “mine”. He belongs to God. That will change nothing, however. I will still defend him to the last bullet. Granted, Mr. Milgram stole my gun. So, the sooner you tell me who is after my Alpha, the sooner I will be able to let this person know that if they want my Alpha, they will have to go through me first.”

“There is no one currently after our Aplha.” I respond slowly, making sure I say all the right things, and omit all the superfluous ones, not to piss James off even more.

“Right. I will take you seriously when you start making sense. This is where I slap you, and you fall on the bed. But we agreed: no violence. Do not give me the name. But at the very least tel me what he is being charged with?”

“Mr. Rockford here has been detained for sexual assault.” I respond.

Jim’s pressure on me looks awful, but feels good. I just can’t focus on my own pleasant feelings right now. Richard is in deep trouble, and he needs help.

“BLYAT!!!” Ever since the proper British has not offered James a strong enough replacement for “fuck”, he reverted back to his native language. “Really?! That?!! It’s a good thing Sheba checked out a month ago. This month we would have for sure sank her sense of propriety between the shootings and another sexual offender.”

“It is, indeed, a good thing.” I agree with nowhere else to go.

“Will you tell me who he assaulted, or should I just look myself? I am not allowed to look myself, but I am losing my cool with you clowns. Don’t tempt me. Don’t piss me off. Just tell me who he took down, so we can maybe settle it out of court.”

“I can’t tell you that, because you don’t care who that is.” I take a deep breath and prepare to be grilled by my very aggressive beta. “All you care about is if you can get your Alpha off. Therefore you are not ready for the truth.”

NOW I am guaranteed to get another earful of insults. No one can hurt you like James. Ask Sheba. She was on powerful sedatives for weeks after 16 months with James. “Is your Alzheimer’s kicking in?” He told me another day, when I forgot something. The pain from that actually temporarily drowned out all my other internal torment.

James senses me very well. Not that it ever stops him from beating me up.

“All right, I’ll do it myself. Let’s think logically. Mr. Rockford is straight. Therefore, he assaulted a woman. There are only three women here. I am not seeing him attacking Matushka. Strike that out. Lady Lion’s channel is off limits to me if only because her IQ is 23 points above mine. So, I can’t see what is happening with her. But I assure you, that this Lady IS the LION, and she’ll rip your balls off. I am not worried about Lady Lion. You must have a death wish to attack HER.”

“You are barking up a wrong tree, James.” I say again, and for the first time in my life I wish I did not have ANY lines in this scene.

“That leaves us Lady Anne.” James continues as if I said absolutely nothing. “Mr. Rockford, did you rape Lady Anne?”

I might as well be invisible.

“Say yes, so we can fix it. Let me breathe a sigh of relief, for of all three she is the easiest to deal with.” James lights up another cigarette.

“Your effort should not be directed to saving your mate.” I continue with my desperate lines.

“Lady Anne is the easiest to deal with, because she is the closest to the Original Source. She will forgive my Alpha if I offered her perks and bonuses.” James plows on.

“James, you are being warned to get the fuck away from the wrong tree, or they will shoot.”

Not only am I invisible, but no one can hear me, either.

Zero reaction from James.

Maybe I should just go into robbing banks. Boy, will they be surprised when those bags of money will travel out of the safe all by themselves.

“And then we can talk how we can learn to keep our dick in our pants, for God’s sake, Mr. Rockford!!”

“It was not Lady Anne.” I finish my performance with my punchline, and simply can’t say another word, so hurt I am to see James pick the incorrect path.

“Oh? Please be suspenseful, Wallace. I love it! Give us another good five minutes of nail-biting silence before you drop the victim’s name.” James is now irate, as he stares at Rockford’s handcuffed hands. “Now that I’m at a loss about who the fuck that may be. And how much will it cost me to make it go away. Give me the name that will clean out my karmic accounts. And tell me, that the new team IS NOT like the old team, where it cost me an arm and a leg to fix HENRY’S EXPLOITS once he was discovered.”

I give it another sigh, to drag it out as far as I can.

“At least Henry lasted for 14 months BEFORE he was discovered! Mr. Rockford did not even last a month! If my team is to consist of mentally unstable criminals, these criminals need to learn to cover their tracks better.”

“It’s not like that, James.” I say again. Even quieter. For I’m going to get slapped. 

Here it comes.

“I am not asking you to editorialize. I am asking for a name. Who was it, Wallace?! Now that we ruled out the family, was it one of the guests? Please tell me it was not some royalty, or a celebrity. Please tell me it is someone I can handle.”

His threatening tone leaves me no more room for maneuvering.

“It was you, James.”

“U-huh.” James stares at me, then at the handcuffed Richard, through the clouds of smoke from his cigarette. “How much crack have you both smoked, exactly?”

“We did not smoke any.” I whisper, because Richard is too guilt-ridden to say anything.

“Ok. Finally good news, then. Let me call James Kellspell and ask what he wants to make it go away. Something is telling me he will not ask for very much. James Kellspell will be the easiest man to make a deal with.”

“It’s not like that, James.”

“That’s what you’ve been saying. Now, quit wasting my time, tell me the name of the victim, and let’s be done with this little dumb skit.”

Jim’s bridgeplate transpires under his right hand, and seeps deep blue.

Saved by the bell.

“Aha! Some progress here!” James watches the seeping color, and it remains dark blue. “It WAS Lady Anne! Mr. Rockford, you raped Dr. Michael’s employee!!”

Chapter 127
“Richard did not rape Lady Anne.” I insist.

“THEN WHY IS SHE CALLING ME IN THE MIDDLE OF THE KERFUFFLE?!” James hisses. Come to think of it, he started talking just like Henry.

“This maybe a mistake...” I offer, and forget that I am both invisible and inaudible.

“Watch this!” James places his hand over the bridgeplate to accept the call. “Yesterday this woman cleaned after one pig, today she got raped by another pig, both my friends. I will make her take it and like it. She wanted martyrdom? I have plenty of it for her.”

Then he sinks his hand Into the blue mist of the bridgeplate to connect to the caller.

“Lady Anne? How are you? Considering all the circumstances... What can I offer you in exchange for my Alpha back? Name your price.”

There is a second of silence on the other side, and then the voice breaks through.

“Your Alpha back? Where is Rockford?!”

“Henry!!” James is gobsmacked.

“Why didn’t you pick up your bridgeplate? Why didn’t you let Wallace pick up his phone? Why are you avoiding me? Why did I have to pretend to be someone else for you to pick up your bridgeplate?”

“Henry...  Ohh... I am not allowed to talk to you, that’s why! I love you, but we must stay apart for now...” James starts crying, for there is only this much his little heart can take.

“In as few words as possible, Kellspell. What happened to Rockford?”

“I come home and my Alpha is in handcuffs, ready to be taken away on sexual assault charges!!!”

On the other side, Henry just clears his throat. Probably, gobsmacked, too.

This whole time my poor dear Mr. Rockford sits there with his head down, not moving at all.

“They are going to take away my Alpha!” James falls on the floor, hysterical. “I waited for him my whole life, I had THREE OMEGAS before I got my LONG-AWAITED Alpha, and now, not even a month into it...”

“For SEXUAL ASSAULT?! You are kidding me?” Henry finally says. “Sick fucker.”

“I am not going to let them take him away, Henry, I will barricade him in my bedroom!”

“Your bedroom only has three walls, Kellspell!”

To that, James takes his howling a notch louder, words “what do I do then” can barely be discerned.

“Listen, you imbecile! You are completely spun out! Stop and think! I will tell you what to do! What kind of behaviour will bring us THE MOST MONEY?!” Henry’s ruthless tone wakes me up. I can almost see him slapping both James AND me.

James stops half way through his howl.

“And this idiot is my mate!” Henry continues his advance. “Find out the behaviour that makes us the most money/karmic credits, and do that. Have Smith, Rockford and Merritt, if he is still alive, do the same. When I come back, I will have a word with you all!”

“Henry!!” James weeps. “Please don’t leave us! We are leaderless without you! I thought I got us an Alpha for a leader, but my Alpha did not pass the eval, either! Apparently he had his demons, and now he slipped...”

“I have to go attend to business. One month I was gone, one month, James, and you and your new team have ruined everything I worked for!”

Chapter 127

“Henry... You are so right... We ALL miss your wisdom so much!!! How long are you there for? I can’t stand losing BOTH you AND him!!!”

But then, a tranquilizing solution arrow enters Jim’s vein at an angle just above his left shoulder.

“Wow, what is this?” James turns to me. “Look! Someone just aimed a laser target on my wrist! Only the laser is yellow...”

They must be shooting from Level 3.

The yellow light penetrates Jim’s vein, and he goes limp. Good thing that he was already on the floor.

Three Arkabins walk into our bedroom through the sliding glass door.

“Henry... I was shot with a drug... I did not see this treachery! They came for my Alpha... I am getting weak... I can’t defend my Alpha! When I wake up, I will boycott the filming of the next Episode...”

“You will do no such thing! Only do what PLEASES the producers, not pisses them off!!!”

But it is too late. I leave Richard’s side, and come to hold my James. He has slipped into unconsciousness.

The Arkabins approach us, and take away James instead of Richard.

One of them touches Richard’s handcuffs, and they unlock with a soft click.











WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW


      THE SHEPHERD’S APPRENTICE
(Under Rockford-Kellspell-Smith Alliance)


           CHAPTER 126 (frm 119)


There is a noise upstairs, coming from Dr. Michael’s apartment. A scuffle? Someone fell?

I do not have time to think about it, though. I’ve got a crisis of my own!

“Ow, crap!” James stumbles through the door to the hall, and right into my arms.

HE IS BLEEDING!

When is he NOT BLEEDING?

“James, what happened?” I grab him, and immediately my hands, and my shirt are smeared in his blood.

But it is not out of his nose, thanks God!

“I was washing these cans from crab meat in the kitchen, and I cut my hand... Owww!!!!”

I grab a piece of napkin, and press it against a rather deep cut on the outer part of his palm. He washes food containers to reuse them. He cares for the planet.

We sit on the bed in silence as I keep my hand pressed against his wound. Let’s hope I can stop bleeding so we do not have to call the Arkabin doctors.

Trapped in my thoughts, I have no choice but to return to the sad, bitter cud I was chewing before James came in.

A rookie mistake.

“So you think your life is over now that you are sixty?”

James is psychic. He can SMELL depressive thoughts.

I truly am cornered. Richard does not allow me to shoot up NES-sp (NON-Existant Substance Self-Pity). And I am not to trigger James into his favorite drug.

But what can I do? While Richard may also be declining, first, he is aging gracefully, and second, basically, that is why he is still in the business. And I am not. Not anymore. Not after I lost almost all of my hair, and got bags under my eyes. No one wants me ever since.

No one, but James.

“What you are telling me, Wallace, is that life ends at 60. Well, let me tell you this. I am no longer a spring sprout myself. I am only 13 clicks behind you.”

I was not telling it TO HIM!

Here comes the avalanche. And I caused it. Richard will watch this and he will hang me.

No more violence, he promised.

So, he will be just very unhappy that I set James off. But what did I do? I was stewing in my own juice when James stumbled in, blood all over his hands and clothing AGAIN!

He walked in on me STEWING. And he can totally smell negative thinking.

“Grace is addictive.” James carries on. “What I see is all of you bitches whining how little Grace you’ve received. The least successful of you had three projects a year for the entirety of your lives!!! And I am 47, with only ten weeks of projects/Grace and a dead boyfriend to tally up. That’s IT! That’s fucking it! You may have been discovered when you were 20, and I WAS NEVER DISCOVERED! I was trapped for the first 20 years of my life, and then I was caged for 20 years after that. What is left? 13 clicks to Old Age. Well, fuck you. No one can hear me screaming inside! And I can’t drink self-pity now. It will sink my karmic record. Then I will never see Henry. In addition to all this crap. Ow...”

I let him go, and the napkin seems to have stopped the blood and is now firmly stuck to his left palm.

“They will make an antidote out of your algorithms.” I remind him meekly. “It will save millions of souls from being tormented by ego-protocols.”

“I will be long dead then, Wallace! What’s in it for ME?!” He suddenly jumps up and pushes me on the bed. “Why was I even born?!!”

James is powerful, and he is desperate. Powerful desperation makes you profoundly miserable.

I know.

So I just lay there, and choke on my tears.

I would give my life for him, but on Level 1 I am on the other side of the world.

“You have your first filming coming up.” I whisper, careful not to burst out crying.

“I should be grateful.” James releases me, and presses the blood-soaked napkin back to the wound. “And I am.”

“Please stay calm. Richard does not like us scratching those painful issues.”

“I know.” James says, and I feel him getting ready to do exactly opposite of what he said: rip the scab off that old wound. “I feel like I have not even lived, Wallace. I have no right to ask for your guys’ fate. I was never in line for the huge amounts of Grace you have received. All I ever wanted to do was sell enough of my books to make a small living. $1000 a month worth, that’s it... A little herd of like-minded fans, that’s it!”

“You will be performing soon.” I say again, and I know I am going to get it.

It was a wrong thing to say. But what is a right thing to say when the man is drowning in impatience?

“It’s just two days, Wallace! And after that, no matter how well I perform, I will not be invited back, because there will be no sequel to this show!”

I sigh, and feel his hand on my shoulder.

“After the filming I will be released back into the ocean of stupid no one gives a damn about. I will be left to my devices again, until 13 clicks later, as per your account, it will be too late.”

“You don’t know that.” I whisper. I just want his pain to go away. I wish I could snap my fingers and save him from emotional self-mutilation with “no one gives a shit about me” thing.

Sheba did this to herself every day.

I do it to myself every day.

I do not want my sweet Jim to do this to himself.

“I am looking forward to the filming with the British, Wallace, and I AM grateful. But nothing can change the fact that in the eyes of the Americans I have not achieved anything in life. I wanted to be a writer, but no one wants to read my books for free. Let alone pay for them. I know you will tell me, that there are millions like me. I do not want to hear it! It does not make me feel better!”

I was not going to tell him that. I KNEW that dumb argument would not make him feel better. It never made ME feel better.

“Well, you wanted to be Prince Phillip.”

“Yeah!” For a second, a sparkle lit up his eyes. “But, many movies will be made about him. It makes his unspeakable suffering WORTH IT. No one will remember ME.”

“Father will make sure they will remember you.”

James nods and lowers his head on my chest. Normally, on the rising moon we both wear two t-shirts, not one. So that your mate has a cushy chest to cry into. In two t-shirts you simply last longer during your mate’s breakdown, for they absorb more tears.

“Why am I even with you guys? It is a shame I torment myself comparing my lousy life with the lives of the Chosen people. I wish I never knew you all...”

“That was very painful, James. On more than one level. If that’s what you were going for. I was discarded from the ranks of “Chosen people” as soon as I grew old.” It is a wrong thing to say. But I found nothing else.

“You spent your entire life in those ranks, Wallace.” Jim’s voice is muffled by my shirt and two t-shirts. “I am not even asking for the most magic things that happened to you. I was never in line for those. I only wish there was someone willing to pay money for my books, so I could justify my addiction to writing... I am not even asking for much money. $12 000 a year, that’s all. Just to make my ENDLESS SUFFERING WORTH IT!”

Then he sobs in my arms for what feels like eternity.

The sun goes down slowly as Jim weeps.

I have good news for James. The suffering is not endless. But it may last a lifetime.

Richard comes through the sliding glass door behind us.

The illusion panels of this bedroom were replaced, for everything was covered in Jim’s blood when the new team arrived.

 Not a month later, Richard steps into a pool of Jim’s blood on the floor. That’s when he cut his hand today.

He comes and quietly sits on blood-smeared comforter. That’s when Jim bled out of his nose for a week.

“I am going to call for a cleaning crew.” I say to Richard apologetically. “Mr. Merritt has been sedated again. He is in no shape to clean anything.”

“Shhhh....” Mr. Rockford says, and shows me a thick book with bluish cover titled

      “TRIALS OF JAMES KELLSPELL”
               By Sheba Of Salem

He is smiling.

“This is going to be a huge bestseller on Andromeda.” Richard adds with a grin.

“Who told you that?” I raise my brows as he hands me the heavy book.

“Uri Kumlatov. He suspended Jim from school, and he exiled Jim’s beloved Henry. Sheiredis are Spartans in their rugged nature, so Kumlatov has no mercy for his young student’s transgressions. However, he also wants to support James. We only have one Prophet. If James does not make it, no one will.”

“So, they WILL write about me....” James says into my shirt.

“They will write about US, Jess.” Rockford corrects as he hugs both me and the weeping precious burden on my chest.

“What did I hear upstairs?” I whisper to Richard.

“While we were busy wanting to know what is in it for US, Lady Anne worked as hard as she could to break herself away from whatever was holding her back, and twelve minutes ago she has achieved 300% karmic purity. The noise you heard was the burdens of egoistic living she has successfully discarded.”

At hearing that Jim in my arms stops crying.

A long minute passes as we sit quietly together, Richard gently patting James on the head for support.

“Good for her. But Lady Anne is not awake enough, or strong enough to open the Pearly Gates.” I finally note.

“True. I am the only one who can do it. And right now I dismally lack karmic credits for it. I am so lost... So confused. I am in love with Henry, and he fills me up fully, leaving no room for other mates!I want him, yet I know I’m not right in ignoring everyone else! I am in no mood to weave a “perfect state of mind” right now. But it would help me greatly if i can just copy her achieved state.” James responds, confidence returning to his voice.

“You will have to drop ANYTHING you ever wanted for yourself.” Richard warns.

“Of course. Now that she did it, I feel that I am not alone in it. I see hope now. The full moon is finally upon us. All of this is good news.” James breaks away from me, and I hand him a napkin to wipe his face.





“Wallace, I hear you creeping up.” James is on the bed, working his bridgeplate.

I come closer, with my head bowed and my heart pounding, and kneel in front of him.

“Owww... You are very cute. You know that your omega behaviour is going to trigger my beta response, and I will take you.”

I nod, burning up inside. There is nothing more that I want. Just to feel him on top of me. But I’m not here for that right now. I was ordered to get him dressed for an assignment.

I take his right foot, pull the sock off and carefully insert his foot into a high-heeled shoe.

“What are you doing there, my sweet one?  Oh!” He looks at his foot. “You want me to fuck you while in drag?”

“Mr. Milgram requested you for two hours tonight.”

“Oh! Of course!’ James waves his hand over the green-glowing bridgeplate and it dissipates, splashing deep blue and sparkling purple. “When I’m back, Wallace, I want you naked in this bed.”




Excerpts from what happened next, via Jim’s personal Arkchil channel, of which I am the operator:

(After they had sex. Mr. Milgram is a rough top. But James is resilient, dedicated, and he loves Isaak very much.)

James Kellspell, laying in bed with Isaak Milgram. James is in his female avatar, but his voice is just as low and hoarse: “I brought you two bottles of Red Label and sandwiches.”

Milgram does not respond, laying face down away from James.

James, getting up and throwing away the used condom that Milgram just discarded on the floor. “Isaak? Are you listening to your ego?”

Nothing but dead silence comes from Dr. Michael’s long time friend, only the frown on his face deepens.

Kellspell: Do you realize that “your” ego is but a dumb taperecorder? It’s IQ is 14. It is blind, not connected to reality, and the only reason it can communicate with you at all, is because there is a wire with which you are connected to it as your body lays under the chair... And every time you freak out - you can’t help but send the signal, and the Stupid responds as per its programming. It’s programming is INTENTIONALLY MEANT TO CAUSE AS MUCH PAIN AS POSSIBLE TO YOU AND OTHERS.”

Unshaven and disheveled, Milgram does not respond, but opens his eyes and stares at the window that faces our bedroom. Only Milgram’s apartment is on the second floor. So, if he would stand by the window, he’d be staring “down” on us.

“I know you miss God, but...”

This is where Milgram jumps up, and across the bed, and within a second his hands are around Jim’s throat.

“DO NOT TALK TO ME ABOUT GOD!!!!” He roars in Jim’s face, while choking him.

Jim coughs, but is otherwise limp in Milgram’s angry, deadly grasp.

“It was not... God’s fault with the church boys...” James coughs out. “It was the priests, not God!”

Milgram growls, but loosens his suffocating grip on James.

“You are a homosexual! You probably would go right after those boys!!!” Milgram screams hoarsely and releases his victim.

“Boys would do me no good.” Jim breathes a sigh of relief and fixes his long blond hair, messed up by Milgram’s attack. “I always longed for a meaningful relationship with a wealthy, experienced, and an accomplished man. A ten year old would hardly fit the bill.”

Milgram stumbles through pizza boxes and items of clothing strewn all over his bedroom, finds whiskey in the bags, brought by James, opens one bottle, and drinks like a fish.

“You are a HOMOSEXUAL! All your sinful kind does is think of molesting boys!!!” Milgram spits out drops of amber-bright alcohol, as he yells at James.

“No, Mr. Milgram. You are confusing “pedophiles” and “homosexuals”.” James is taking a few deep breaths here and there, but otherwise he looks calm.

Milgram turns even darker, he wanders back to bed, and fixes James with a threatening stare.

Isaak Milgram is a formidable man, and an excellent fighter. Regardless of which avatar James is in, regardless of 15 years worth of his martial arts training, Milgram could snap James in half in one minute.

But James is not intimidated in the slightest.

“Pedophiles are people who are into children, of both genders. If it is any consolation, I was a victim of pedophiles a couple of times when I was young, and in a female avatar.” Jim continues.

Milgram frowns and drinks straight from the bottle. The dark bedroom is lit up by nothing but the lights that come from the apartments to the left.

“And then there is a scandal at your church. You were probably raised by one or two homophobic parents. You were hearing stuff about homosexuals. Then, in the heat of the scandal, you hated the HOMOSEXUAL PEDOPHILES who did this to them altar boys, and IN YOUR MIND you hold GOD and THE HOMOSEXUALS responsible for those broken little lives.”

Milgram suppresses a growl, and walks to the window.

“While in reality, those priests just happened to be HOMOSEXUAL. Not every homosexual is a pedophile. And not every pedophile is a homosexual. Did you know that? That there are STRAIGHT PEDOPHILES?”



“U-huh, yeah.” Jim nods and rubs his neck, getting over Milgram’s attack.

Milgram does not respond, drinks more from the bottle as the alcohol begins to have effect on his brain and body.

“I am going to kill myself.” Milgram whispers, his head is now hanging low, as if in defeat.

“I love you, Isaak.” James gets off the bed, and starts picking up pizza boxes and bottles. “You are not going anywhere.”

“You can’t stop me.” Milgram, dressed only in a t-shirt, goes to the nightstand, gets a gun, pulls out the magazine, and starts loading it with bullets, strewn about in the drawer. “I am going to do it now.”

Unfazed, James piles up the boxes by the entrance, finds a dried up piece of pizza in one of them, and chews on it while admiring Milgram’s manhood.

“Feel free. Drop that gorgeous body of yours. Medical students do need cadavers to practice on. You will see that it will do absolutely nothing to cure your emotional pain. And while you are focused on mutilating your BODY,  I am authorized to use any Articles necessary to retain your SOUL.”

“I did not sign any Covenant with you.” Milgram loads a bullet into the chamber.

“You signed the Covenant with God.”

Milgram turns red, and I can see it even in the twilight of the apartment.

“God annulled it by letting all those boys suffer at the hands of those who were supposed to nourish and protect them!!!”

Milgram is sinister and stone-cold. Then he raises his hand, and shoots into the ceiling with a deafening, soul-piercing sound.

“Yep tvoy mat!!!” James swears in Russian, drops the pizza, and falls to the floor, holding on to his ears.

For a few minutes nothing could be heard, but Jim’s moans. “My ears, Lev! Blyat! Ow!!”

Next second Milgram crosses the room and is holding the gun right in front of Jim’s face.

Still rubbing his left ear, James carefully moves himself around Milgram’s hand with the gun, picks his pizza from the bed sheets, and then takes his position again in front of Milgram’s gun.

They stand like that for a while. Milgram, holding the gun to Jim’s face, and Jim, chewing on the remaining pizza crust.

“You shoot me, and it IS as good as the Covenant. If you kill me, you will become mine forever. As soon as that happens, I am going to send you back, directly to Noomi. You dread that, don’t you? You owe her, and you do not care to pay her back.”

“I OWE HER NOTHING!!!” Milgram roars, as he discharges the gun, this time into the door.

As we switch our attention to the door, we notice that it already has more than one bullet hole in it.

He shot into the door to protect himself from the pesky housekeeping services, I assume. That will learn them.

Now James has the time to cover his sensitive ears.

A couple of minutes later the door opens just a tad.

“Is everything alright there, James?” Dr. Michael’s voice can be heard from behind the door.

“Her name is Krista!” Milgram screams and shoots again through the door. Then he turns to James and sticks the gun under his chin. “I will kill you for being homosexual! I will rid the Earth of the abomination! Hugh? You there, old friend? You will hear this sinner’s dying screams now!”

“I have repented. So you will hear a sermon.” James clears his throat. “Isaak! Get a hold of yourself. I do not need this body to enforce the Covenant on your sore ass. I don’t care what you think about God, but you also signed a Covenant with Noomi! You pull this trigger, and I will send you directly to your wife, and you will start doing your sentence sooner than you think.”

Another long minute passes, with everyone, including Dr. Michael behind the door, being utterly silent.

“Not if I kill myself first.” Milgram hisses into Jim’s ear, with the gun still pressed to Jim’s chin.

“Tell that to Darler.” James responds softly with a faint, but firm smile.





“Technically, he never married Noomi.” I venture, watching Jim apply ice to his chin and neck.

“Technically, that was my gun.” James opens the sliding door, and throws away the melting ice. It sparkles in the dim sun of a cloudy afternoon here on Strobulus. “He threatened to kill me with my own gun.”

“Honestly, i am appalled at what I just witnessed.” I admit, burying my face in my hands.

“You must be new here.” Jim pulls a cigarette out of a pack of red Marlboro, and lights it up.

I gasp as Jim puffs on his cigarette. Then he brings up his bridgeplate and sends a message to Lady Anne (most of the time she is fast-flowing blue color on the bridgeplate).

“My most holy Lady, your services are required in Mr. Milgram’s apartment. I need it cleaned, all pizza boxes and bottles removed and recycled. Please, collect all scattered clothing, and do his laundry. There is a gun in the drawer of the nightstand. Take it. Give it to Tia Demetra to give to Lady Lion. Wait for my further orders.”

“James, are you crazy? He is going to kill her!”

“No, he won’t be able to, even if he is too asleep to see the Truth. Lady Anne has  achieved Martyrdom.”

I catch myself struggling through another eternity of silence.

Isaak Milgram’s anger-distorted face ravages my mind, and haunts me relentlessly.

“Maybe you did not need to mention his ex-wife.” I say, and I do not know why I say it. How am I even still here?!

Everything I ever knew was just destroyed, washed away by pure, unbridled, real time violence. I feel like I’m on thin ice, and the dreadful plunge is only a matter of time.

“There is no “ex” wife. There is no “ex” God. There is also no “ex” children. There are people who are so deeply asleep, so poisoned by the voice of the ego, that they no longer know right from wrong, and try to break something that is unbreakable.”

“Maybe he no longer cared about her.” I say, and feel stupid under Jim’s intense stare. But I feel like o need to say it for the sake of History, clarity, and all those who left their spouses because they had had enough.

“How could he not?” James shrugs, but his powerful appearance makes even that simple move affect you greatly. “Noomi was not exactly a one-night stand in his life!”

“I get it, James. But people break up!”

Right? They do, don’t they? He is looking at me like I AM full of it?

“No, they do not, Wallace. “Breakup” is an illusion. Them bitches forgot that this is only a dream, and a test of our love for God. No matter what you see, no matter what you hear, you must remember that Father did not cause it. The ego did.”

“Who put the ego there to hurt us, then?”

“I PROGRAMMED the dumb ego! But am fixing my mistake! We are only 4 hrs away from Complete Awakening now. End of pain. The Beginning of the New Life With God. There. We are almost done with this nightmare, where we are forced to face insurmountable odds without Him by our side. There is no “breakup”. You just need to be stronger than “your” ego, that tells you why you need to break up. I love you. Come to me.”

James puts the cigarette butt into the beer bottle on the concrete pad, and closes the distance between us in one second. His face is full of passion and hunger for my body.

“I’m sorry for what you have witnessed. I know I told you to be naked in bed and wait for my return, but instead you heard gunshots and was told to tune in to my Arkchil channel. But if you still want me, I will take you. Please know, Wallace, that your presence makes a huge difference in my life. Your unspeakable suffering in the male body while being a female, has inspired me to carry on and kick it up a notch. After what I have learned about you and Tia Demetra, just to have you both in my life makes my suffering worth it.”

He takes me, and I want nothing more than to absorb every most precious second of pleasure. The secret? In my world Jim comes through as Jess.

And then, right in the middle of making love, my phone rings.

It resounds in my ears even louder than the gunshots, if at all possible.

Why? Because my phone has not rang since I arrived to Strobulus. That would be three months.

Jim stops nailing me only for a second.

I make a motion to pick up.

“Don’t.” James pulls out of me. “It’s Henry.   For me.”

Ohhhh...

James is in me: I am filled with the man who loves me for who I am. Paradise.

James is no longer in me: i am empty, old, unwanted. I have to face the cold world alone.

But it is HENRY!!!

“James!” I get up and shake him. “Pick it up! It’s Henry!”

“I can’t.” He suddenly takes on the British accent, and gives me a look of a trapped wild animal. “Not after having ripped Isaak a new one for being unfaithful to his Covenant. The hammer of the judge is actually pretty heavy. Now I have to hit MYSELF with it.”

“Henry loves you more than anything.” I care not to see myself in the buff for another second, so I put on my dressing gown, as I cajole James. “I KNOW him!” I try to speak fast while the phone is still ringing. “He is completely smitten by you. He is calling from the mental institution. He needs your help, James!”

“Henry (Krotkie, Kyle), H.M., Wallace, and my Alpha, my Mr. Rockford. I signed the Covenant with all of you!” Jim responds instead, making no motion for the already irate phone.

“It’s not at 25% each, James. Henry absorbed Krotkie and Kyle. He wants 75%. Please, pick up the phone!!”

“He wants 100%! That leaves you, H. M. and my unparalleled Mr. Rockford out in the cold! I must resist giving Henry 100% of my time! This is NOT what our  Covenant says. I must practice what I preach, Wallace!”

“That does it, James! I am going to pick up the phone, whether you let me, or not!”

It is a very bold move for an omega, to disobey your beta this way. But i signed up for Martyrdom. And I was given a very hard role. I am a double agent. That makes me loyal both to James, AND Henry. So, I pick up the phone.

“Lord Carlton! Lord Carlton?” I say into the phone, hoping to hear his, obviously enraged, voice, for the reason that we let the phone go on for so long.

This is when it stops ringing.

“I am not going to let Henry invade 100% of me!” James looks for his cigarettes, finds them, and starts smoking right in the bedroom. “It is against The Covenant! It affects the balance of the team. I already lost Sheba to this kind of thinking!”

“Maybe Henry is good for “your” ego!” I snap with my eyes down, hating myself for arguing with my dear James.

“THERE IS NO ROOM for “my” ego here, Wallace!!”




If we could only keep it that way.

Without listening to that dumb ego-machine all the time.

Evening creeps in, James goes to Level 1 to take care of H.M., and they get into a meaningless fight over stuff H.M. said, and James just could not let it go.

H.M. storms out, leaving James swimming in the pool alone. Seen only by James, Richard descends into the pool, and helps our sobbing mate out.

“I am going to tell Prince Moretr, that I have not tasted life! I only tasted my own tears... I have nothing, but this situation... Then we make up, go to the grocery store, and then some more time passes IN MY CAGE, until the next time he beats me up, mistreats me, because he listens to “his” ego that tells him that “the bitch deserves it”! While all of you actually had a fucking life! You ALL, ALWAYS had a project to look forward to! What do I have to look forward to?”

This is where they are met by Lady Anne, who hands James the towel, and asks him to please not attack Prince Moretr, who is already doing everything he can to alleviate all of our suffering.

Richard takes both shaking James and lamenting Lady Anne to Jim and H.M.’s bedroom (Level 1, Malachite Constellation). He puts James in bed and holds his hand, while Lady Anne tells James all about leaving behind the burdens of the ego.

“Whatever you ask for yourself, it will not make you happy.” She walks there and back slowly, large tears falling down. “Wake up, please. Nothing in this dream will make you happy. Only God.”

Her tears on the floor, partially smeared by her long dragging gown, soon look like a bird got out of the water and shook itself out.

Mine usually look like a large dog got out of the water, and shook itself out.

Once I sat alone in the bedroom, and cried, and James came over, and took a photograph of my tears on the floor.

“I get it, my holy Lady! I know you have renounced everything that can possibly hold you to this plane, and ESPECIALLY publicity.” James sighs, cries, as Richard hands him a napkin to blow his nose. “But I feel like a muggle. I do not know how to explain it without you blaming me for “holding on to “my” ego”. But I feel that some of my skills were never used. I was born with the wings, BUT I NEVER FLEW!”

Lady Anne nods, light on her feet, almost airborne. “Impatience. Can’t wait to blame God for your failure.” She sheds more tears, and shudders against the wall like a pinned butterfly.

James does not like what she says for a second. But he brings up his bridgeplate, and takes a picture of Lady Anne, and her tears. For further analysis, as he explained later.

“I wish I could MAKE A MOVIE about this.” He says.

I wish I was as talented as James.

Look, what he invented. I hit the olive-green cloud on my Operator bridgeplate (one of the few functions that I know), the poem-weaving app comes up, and a poem appears on the face of the bridgeplate in a small dark-purple cloud:

A photograph of tears on the floor...
Jim, should we laugh, or should we cry some more?

“Each of you wants stuff for yourselves. Only to hand it to “your” ego, and see if THIS will make you happy INSTEAD of being with God.” A phone rings in Lady Anne’s long floating garment. “This is Lady Lion. I must go. Good day, gentlemen. Clean up.”

“She is going to read me lectures.” James, still held by Richard, stares at the photo he took on his bridgeplate: “What is this, Lady Anne? A garment made of jellyfish? I thought devil wears “Prada”?!

“James!!!” Richard raises his voice, as I’m torn between bursting out at his sharp, unexpected comeback, and reaching out to place my hand on Jim’s incredibly overactive mouth.

“What’s up her ass?” James shrugs. “Abandon every connection to this plane.” Easy for her to say. She did taste the Grace. I’m just not ready to hang it up yet. Wallace? Why are you coughing and limping behind my back?”

One of Jim’s rules is to turn your own pain into other people’s laugh.

Not an easy rule to follow.

Let me try. Hit this green cloud. Here we go. An appropriate answer, as I’m choking back tears.

“I cough, i limp, I cannot see.
Welcome to U-G-E-C!”

“What?!”

Both Richard and James say that at the same time. You should see their faces! Let’s make our suffering worthwhile, shall we?

“Wallace? Are you playing with my poem-weaving algorithm?” James can’t believe that I learned how to control it.

When Sheba ran this bridgeplate, she hated the annoying program, for it would pop up all by itself in the most of inappropriate moments.

The difference? Now I TURN IT ON in the most of inappropriate moments.

“UGEC?” Mr. Rockford repeats, looking both shocked and confused.

“United Geriatric Effort Convention.” I respond, and laugh through my cough.

That cracks them both up.

“We should have come earlier, then?” Now calm and composed, Richard turns to me.

“I was not ready EARLIER.” James interjects in a defeated tone of voice.

“Let’s blame the kid.” I wink to Richard.

Dr. Michael descends from the spiral staircase.

“What’s for dinner, old men?”

“Have you been eavesdropping?” I ask, leading him on.

“Let’s skip that one, Gendalf.” Smiling Dr. Michael is much too smart to be caught this easily. “Matushka and I have made a meal for us all. “Fifty bucks to the one who can drag Isaak out. Or entice him to come out. Or blow him out of the water. Or whatever it takes.”

“I’ll do it for thirty!” James says, and takes on his lovely female avatar within seconds. “Lemme drop by his man cave... My favorite blouse... and some chewing gum to fill the bullet holes in the door.”

“Great! Everyone else, change if you need, and welcome upstairs!”

“What are we going to have?” Richard steps out of Jim’s bedroom on Level 1, and we all ascend up the spiral staircase.

I am so hungry. But I totally forgot about it with all this.

“Kimchi and rye bread.”

He’s been working on being mysterious, our Dr. Michael.



“The discovery that I made during my experiments is this: when the machine projects disturbing images for the Oculum to pick up (my goal was to torment MYSELF (I am the Oculum))

IT HAS NO IDEA WHAT IT IS TRANSMITTING.

I have determined that the machine is a tape recorder type of device with an IQ of 14.

In other words all I need to do to defeat FEAR is to get up and ignore the dumb taperecorder and everything it is trying to attract my attention to.

It says/shows me stupid shit to make me feel uncomfortable/scared?

IT HAS NO IDEA WHAT IT IS DOING.

Therefore, all I need to do is not react, ignore the fucker, and ONLY AND EVER DIRECT MY OCULUM TOWARDS FATHER!”

James, in one of his lectures. I wanted to run comments on it, but it is too late now. It’s almost 9 pm.

We tied the knot yesterday. On Jim’s birthday. Now Mr. Rockford, James and I are an item FOREVER. Covenant cannot be undone. And it is good.

There will be Alpha, Beta, and omega. In our case, three omegas.

Mr. Rockford was facing a problem with James. He wanted James in his female avatar, but with a new face. The new face needed a name. And they could not use “Marishka”.

James said to Mr. Rockford: My venerated Alpha, this will blow your cover.”

Rockford thought of it, and he solved it brilliantly, to my opinion. He gave James a new name. But he did not change very much, trying not to traumatize him.

“Wallace, this is not important. Quit editorializing. Quit dragging your feet. Go for what is most important. Talking about a “geriatric moment”!” Mr. Rockford, watching an Andromedan TV show via Jim’s bridgeplate, as Jim is sleeping on the bed with his head on Mr. Rockford’s lap.

“You have just offended all the elderly people in the world in my face.” I respond with a sigh.

“I am only a year behind you.” Rockford plays with a TV remote control, directing it to the bridgeplate-projected screen. The images get rewound and fast forwarded, as if he is looking for some scene.

Huge progress, this contraption. There are no TV sets here. No one was allowed to watch TV since Mr. Rubinstein homesteaded this compound five years ago.

Sheba complained to me of the long days and nights she would have to be alone, with no phone, no TV, no one teaching her how to use the bridgeplate, and James constantly chasing Henry with a massive hardon, paying no attention whatsoever to anyone else.

If it is any consolation, we are not watching Earth TV.

Right now we are watching “Cute Estelians Doing Science Projects”.  It is Moretr (Eridani) Industries show.

James fell asleep, for he lived there, he saw it all before.

These shows we are watching are not the actual TV, but the recordings in Jim’s collection on the bridgeplate.

Which makes his bridgeplate work as a VCR. My best shot at comparison. Sorry, I am of older generation.

Jim does not like entertainment shows. He is more of a documentary kind of guy. His favorite is “My Gentle Prince”, the legend of Bruno Libra. He can talk about that one endlessly.

“My Gentle Prince” is a series based on true events. The artful, brutal, but also acutely romantic story of Sardonyx Eridani’s longtime love for Bruno Libra, a wildly famous peacemaker, Empress’ Gina Yasmin’s Arkabin son.

Yes, but is it “important”?

Mr. Rockford wants me to go “for the most important”, and I still do not know what it is.

My head feels like an unsolved puzzle of thousands of pieces, chopped and mixed together. A soup of everything I ever knew, and experienced. Sometimes more pain, sometimes more confusion, but the soup never clears up, and very little ever gathers into any meaningful picture.

It’s been seven chapters of pieces since I took over from Sheba. I know it in my heart. This is what my narration feels like.

He should have fired me. James should have fired me as his Arkchil Operator. I feel so miserable. So unfit.

“Wallace!”

Mr. Rockford hates it when I give in to the NES-drug of self-pity.

How can Mr. Rockford watch TV AND read  everything I’m writing off the “left screen”, to which he projected my writing?

“Yes, Mr. Rockford?”

“Will you please stop calling me “Mr. Rockford”? How long have we known each other? How much have we done together? Still you avoid calling me by my first name. And remember to go for the most important.”

“Yes, Mr. Rockf... Richard.”

James wakes up with a start.

“SHEEP CATS!!!” He screams out hoarsely and falls off the bed, right at his Alpha’s feet.

“Shhh, Jess. I’m watching the show. Your translation of it is perfect! If one has a degree in chemistry. So, what are these kids playing with? What is “Roman Vitriol”?”

Here it is. Mr. Rockford’s elegant solution to the face without a name.

Jess.

James.

Jess.

A subtle transition that only plays with the cards dealt.  JamES. JESS.

“Oh!” James sits on the floor with his eyes wide open. “I dreamt of herding a whole bunch of hairy, stinky sheep for you!”

“There is money in that.” Mr. Rockford... I mean, Richard responds. “So you dreamt of being my sheep dog?”

“No, see...” Jim rubs his face with a fist of his hand, then licks his fist, and rubs his eyes again. “I was a sheep cat. A large sheep herding CAT. Copper sulfate. Roman vitriol is copper sulfate.”

“There are no “sheep cats” in Australia.” I interject.

“But why not?” Jim immediately throws himself into the argument. “Cats are just as fast as dogs. How hard can this be? We are just as smart, and we can definitely handle some stupid sheep! And in my dream I had perfect understanding with my Shepherd. So, why can’t I do a dog’s job?”

Really, who am I to say Jim can’t do a dog’s job?

Question is, why would you want to?

But James never lets that question torment him. Since Wolf Hafnian asked for half of Jim’s IQ ring back, Jim was only too happy to give up most of responsibilities that involved thinking, and rely solely on his Alpha to make all the decisions.

“Then you will be the very first sheep cat.” Richard agrees most readily.

Why not, indeed?

“Thank you!” James rubs his cheeks on Richard’s knee and then rolls on the floor, licking his fists.

Prince Moretr had to address Jim’s progressing DeVo. So he used it as a “confidence platform” in Jim’s reprogramming.

Jim feels most confident when he addresses the world from a cat’s perspective. I say, whatever works.

We ALL are DeVo’ing. Some faster than others. This process will be easier to reverse the closer we get to the Pearly Gates.

But for now anything goes. If animal side is your strong side, be not ashamed. You are not alone. Just take The First Rule as your vow (“No one should get hurt”), and use your primal skills to serve your family and community at large.





And I told him
“Listen, Count,
I will give you big discount.”

“James, what is this? Do you remember us talking about respect? How is this respectful towards Mr. Rockford?”

“She is a poet at heart
I’ll just fuck her real hard!” Richard sang quietly, as if to himself behind my back. “Go ahead, Wallace, read your line.”

My line?! What “line”? I felt a crumpled piece of paper in my hand. How did it get there? I pulled the paper apart, and read aloud, somewhat shaken:

“What if she turns down your love?”

“Then I’ll wear her like a glove.” Rockford responded readily.

I stood there, aghast.

“Mr. Rockford, forgive me, but where is your propriety?!”

“Where was Carlton’s propriety, Wallace? And she loved the unhinged man!” Mr. Rockford pointed in Jim’s direction.




Richard Rockford:
“I need a mate, that’s easy to control.
I snap my fingers, and they roll!”

James Kellspell:
“And here I run, as my heart screams:
You are the Alpha of my dreams!”




“Samantha! You have a hairy chest! And hairy balls!” James brings his face to mine and smiles like a cat about to devour a sparrow.

I lower my eyes, because I never came out to anyone, and he calls me “Samantha”.

Samantha... A woman with a hairy chest and balls.

And I’m his omega, too.

The Omega Nation’s flag is the flag of peace. It means that I am not allowed to resist or contradict no matter what.

But I can get back at him in peaceful ways.

“You know, every movie you ever watched was not a “documentary about people’s lives”. Most of it was fiction, played out by actors.”

“PLAYED by actors?! Oh, no!” James brings his hands to his face in horror. “Are you telling me Yoda was played by an actor?! Well, was that actor, at least, native to Tatooin?! Was he at least, politically, on the side of the Rebels?”

And did that actor have green skin and big ears?

Yes, he did!

Did he really like Luke, or did he ACT like he liked him?

No, he really liked Luke. Yoda and Luke were the best buddies. I saw them drink together off the set.

I can do this to James all day.

And so it goes.




“My mates, I have gathered you here to tell you, that we are heading into hell. I will be out of blue ksill in one week.” James is standing in his bedroom, in which he has been for a month now, since he was suspended from school thanks to Mr. August’s complaint.

But then Jim did break into his house for the purposes of voyerism.

Which was Sheba’s last straw. She was through with a “Two Clicks Away From A Sexual Offender”.

Which ushered in: me and Richard Rockford.

“I have already bought tons of cigarettes and wine. Basically I’m planning to stay trashed for almost two months until this assignment is over and it is our time to come back to Genesis 17.”

“How can we help?” I ask a rightful question, while Mr. Rockford is on his phone, texting.

Huge progress from last year. Sheba told me that when she arrived, Hafnian did not have a phone, James was not even talking to Earth, and she could only use her phone for the purpose of chasing flies away from schnitzel if she chose to eat outside.

“What you can help me with, is temporarily loosen restrictions.”

I see James frowning with Dr. Michael’s spiral staircase on the background. The staircase is wrought iron, but nice and light-looking, color white.

Any other person would become upset at the fact that one of their bedroom walls was replaced with a staircase. But not James. As long as that staircase leads to Dr. Michael’s apartment. He trusts his Dr. Michael, he never questions the man’s actions, and he welcomes him at any time.

“Help is coming, James.” Rockford said without lifting his eyes from his phone.

“I want to believe so, my Alpha. But I also must prepare for the worst.

And frankly, looking into my immediate future, I’m terrified, you guys. I have not been off it in five years. I was afraid to go to Europe, because I would be for a week without it. Now I am going to be two months without it.” James took a jagged breath.

“They are working to speed up the solutions, James.”’I say and place my hand on his shoulder.

“All I’m asking is for H.M. to stop telling me what to do with my makeup.” James nods and gives me a thin, tormented smile to acknowledge my support. “In the face of what is going to happen, you all will have to hold me at the same time to prevent me from going after H.M. I KNOW he has improved dramatically over the last 20 years, but he still has a “D-“ in the compassion dept.

I am going to need a lot of it very soon. And he has none for me. I don’t know if he even has any for himself.

I am totally fine with that when I keep my emotional pain under control.

After I run out of blue ksill, I will no longer be able to be his perfect slave.

I am begging both of you to understand me in advance. I am going into withdrawal. I am scared of it!!! Today I went into H. M.’s safe and looked at the emergency bags, and they are very small. Literally, even if I took EVERYTHING he has, it would only extend my safety net by a couple of weeks (but not the entire two months), at the high cost of exposing my addiction.

Of course, H.M. has no intention to learn how to heal my wounds and not cause me more. All he wants to do is stop me from using drugs. But never care as to WHY. However, this is an academic conversation for another day.

I am getting hysterical just thinking that I will have to face the man without the painkiller. I will be so very drunk all the time. And alcohol is a downer. We are heading into everyday scandals we had for a “normal life” when I was NOT on drugs. In other words, I am fucked.”

James sat on the bed by my side and sighed.

“This time, when this little girl comes to me crying, I will have no choice but to start crying with her. For this time the bitch will bring bad news I will not be able to dismiss.”

I hold my James, as Rockford’s fingers run fast across the screen of his phone. He seems to be paying no attention to his distressed beta.

Comes in Kyle Merritt with tea for everyone. After Henry was taken, Kyle collapsed, and had to be kept tranquilized for over three weeks.

Here he is, still unsure on his feet, but ready to carry his weight. He works hard for the tokens to talk to his mother in the Grey Building.

James gives him the tokens and never asks for anything back, but Kyle feels deeply indebted to James for letting him come back after a breakup that lasted for 30 years. And then paying for Kyle’s mother’s upgraded upkeep in the Grey Building.

“I have no idea what I’m going to do!!!” James finally breaks down. “I am so scared, so scared, I can’t think about anything else, but...”

“The indecent way you were treated by the British?” I suggest, just to take his mind from circling down the dark maelstrom.

“Fuck the British. Whichever way they treat me, that was all volunteering anyway. And it will not change the fact that I am facing two dry months.

I will emerge a wreck after this, Wallace! I am being forced to quit cold turkey, while I did EVERYTHING I POSSIBLY COULD TO PREVENT THIS KIND OF SCENARIO!

Yet, every precaution I took had failed!!! Two years ago, WHEN I SAW THIS COMING, I asked for a backup should my main supplier fail.

BUT, M. never gave me D.’s phone number.

Then,i tries to back myself up by leaving some stock over winter (2 months’ worth). Guess what, it was stolen while I was on Genesis 17!

Fast forward three weeks ago, when I knew I was running low, and with no extra stock to rely on! I placed the order with my regular dealer.

Guess what?! You could not make this up! The order I placed was delivered TO THE WRONG HANDS.

I said fine - get me more.

Guess what? The Stupid failed to get me more, and still she would not give me the other supplier’s phone number.

When she arrives on Wednesday, I will have no other choice but to offer her $300 for D.’s phone number. Because this bitch stands between me and normal life.

I must do something myself now. I feel that the regular channels have failed me.

And very soon I will be hung out to dry. I can’t last for an hour without it. Now I am facing two months without it.

The point is, Wallace, I am psychotic. I can’t guarantee ANY good behaviour anymore. All of my good behaviour is fueled by the fact that I am protected from pain. Take away my painkiller, and I will be berserk all over again. I do not want to be berserk, but the situation leaves me no choice.”

He howled rather loud between sobs.

Dr. Michael’s apartment remained unmoved and silent, for Dr. Michael was currently texting there and back with Mr. Rockford.

Lord Sedgefield’s apartment was empty. He and Ian left a week before Henry was found legally insane and taken off the set.

Mr. Milgram was inside of his, but he would usually drink there alone with his door locked. He would order Red Label, pizzas and James in female avatar about once a week.

Henry’s Royal Chamber was now occupied only by deeply grieving Mr. Merritt.

“I am so frustrated to be facing this, Wallace!!! Once I am exposed to raw pain ksill protects me from, plus being completely alone, and nursing an asshole who lets “his” ego treat me like shit, I AM going to take it out on him. I am also going to take it out on the British, in the ways they will never be able to trace back to me.

I hate doing this. But I feel that I have no choice but to “distribute the impact”. The fact that my stock was stolen from me 2 years ago? I am going to make the British feel it today. This crap will come full circle, if I can help it.

As always, if I am going down, everyone is going down. I guarantee, that every single one of you will feel my pain. I will make sure you do.

When this piece of shit was beating the crap out of me, I promised to myself that I will make others feel it. For no one will be protected from my pain. It is that simple. It is going to help every single one of you to pray for me, and seek ways to help me faster. No one will rest until my supply is restored.”

“James, shhh....” i held him, until Rockford pulled a box out of his pocket, and gave James a pill.

“Thank you.” He looked his Alpha in the eyes, and they both were motionless for a few moments, penetrating each other, studying each other from within.

Ten minutes later we put unconscious Jim to bed.



Ladies and gentlemen, for your attention, here are the blood-soaked chronicles.

“The Trials Of James Kellspell” Part IV.

Fresh out of the oven of hot feelings, today’s convo between Tia Demetra;and James:

“It is not about money per se. It is about saving my relationship. And right now it is simply about not losing my honor to “my” dumb ego when the pain comes in.” James took a few deep breaths, and searched his bridgeplate for “Earth calendar”, then “My Calendar” to see what date was it today. Not going to school anymore, he lost the track of time. “All I’m asking is, please help me get through the next two months with dignity. You are the only one I can address this to.”

What date was it today? Today was Merion’s birthday. That meant, in nine days James was to turn forty seven.

But his thoughts were far from that now. The only reason he pulled up the calendar, was to see how many days total he was apart from Lord Carlton. The calendar was showing 39 days since Henry’s departure from the Emerald Filament filming set.

“What can I do for you?” Tia Demetra lit up a cigarette.

We do not necessarily all smoke, but we found that James relaxes with you more if you smoke in front of him.

“I can tell anyone, just about, that they do not know Jack Schitt. But you, Tia Demetra, you knew a whole herd of them. So, please listen...”

“I’m listening.” Tia Demetra got up, found Jim’s flat aluminum ash-tray, put it on nightstand on what used to be Sheba’s side of the bed, sat down, and glanced at James only once, before she lowered her eyes omega-style with a slight smile stretching her rather thin lips.

A perfect stance with the frustrated James if you are not an Alpha, or an omega plotting to dominate him (ahem, like Henry).

Just listen. Right.

“I do not want lectures on propriety and sobriety right now. I need you to help me in the way that no one else can.”

“Please state your request.” Tia Demetra nods.

“See, I am in love with this British aristocrat. He has nothing to do with my other British engagement on Level 1. Great Britain is a big country and I have more than one engagement there. Just for clarity’s sake. Anyway. My British boyfriend tells me, that he will be mine, if I bring him money.” James swallowed hard, but his eyes remained glazed over in this classic blissful look that they portray in cartoons as pink hearts coming out of a character’s eyes. “He wants minimum ten million dollars on Level 1.”

“Sounds like you are in love with a whore.” Tia Demetra said very thoughtfully.

“Yes!” James dismissed it readily. “But I want him. I just need money.”

“I am not a bank.”

“I understand that.” James drops to his knees and grabs Tia Demetra’s hand.

Demetra remains seated with her back straight, and a light pleasant smile still stretching her thin, slightly quivering lips. She reminds me of the English Queen in her young, hardest years.

“Your mistress pays well. But she only needs the best. All I’m asking is - teach me how to be the best for your mistress.” Jim’s pleading hoarse whisper could raise the dead, but not a single muscle moved on Demetra’s slightly unshaven face.

“She needs the most loyal, honest and hardworking men. Do that, and she will be pleased.”

Excellent, highly logical comeback. What is James going to do now?

“Yes, easy enough. But in one week I am going to run out of my drug, and I am facing a forced withdrawal. You are the only one who can tell me how to do it without sinking my karmic credit to depths unknown. Clearly, high karmic credit is a must with Lady Lion. In other words, I must keep mine very clean to make the most money with Lady Lion, so I could bring the most money to my... ehrm... to my Royal lover...”

“Surely, a complicated scheme. But who am I to judge? Why would you think I am the one to help you with all that?” Tia Demetra is very good at dragging it out while cameras roll. If you can last eleven more minutes, you might not have to answer the question.

Be rest assured, James is onto that. He is inhaling Tia Demetra’s wisdom like it was holy incense.

“I will tell you why.” James got up, and hung over Demetra, almost in a threatening way. A classic beta move to dominate/herd the omega into cooperation. Even if this is YOUR EMPLOYER’S omega. “Hot off the grid, you were thrown into jail, and you went through forced withdrawal without any alcohol or cigarettes that will be available to me to soften the fall. For eight months. Your grace is made of crystal, but it is the most reliable stronghold in the world.

I only need two. Teach me how to get through two months of withdrawal without taking it out on my loved ones. If I can do that, I will be the best for your Lady Lion, therefore, for my Royal mate.

“All the magic powers that you think I have are in my closet.”

“Then I am asking you to let me into your closet.” James was starting a third cigarette, as he stepped away from Tia Demetra, and now was pacing around the bedroom, engulfed in cigarette smoke like a deranged ghost. “This is all I’m asking.”

“You are asking for a lot of things.”
Tia Demetra responded slowly, quietly, looking at her manly, hairy, veiny hands.

“I am only asking for my mate back.”

“Currently your mate is being held in the maximum security mental facility, heavily medicated.”

“Yes, but when he gets out, he is going to want to know what was I DOING to help pull us back together. And right when I need it the most, my chemical platform slides from under me. Please, teach me your wisdom, so I could get through this and have my Henry back.”

This is where CHRISTOPHER came in through the door that lead into the kitchen, which is now part of our bedroom. He whispered something into Jim’s ear, and Jim went limp.

Christopher barely had time to catch him, as Tia Demetra remained unmoved in every sense.

“What is going on?” I asked as I ran up to them from the bedroom.

“We found Darler.”  Christopher shared with me.




“Wallace, I want you. Will you take me?”

“I would!” I say with a heavy heart. “But with a body like this, James, all I want to do is turn my back and cover my face.”

“That works-s-s!” He hisses, takes off my dressing gown, and turns me around.

Twenty minutes later we are both in his bed, Jim with a happy smile, and me, deeply satisfied, yet, going back in my memory to the places that have nothing to do with today, looking into faces of people long gone.

Why? Because I am afraid to look at Jim and find out that, disgusted by the body of an old man, he is no longer there.

I want my dream to last.

But he is still here!

Unaware of my internal turmoil, Jim goes for his cigarettes, and I can’t help but admire his incredibly lean, fit physique. He was a martial artist for over a decade.

His phone, laying on Hafnian’s blanket, rings. He stares at it in disbelief.

He, then, picks it up somewhat uncomfortably, with an outstretched hand.

“Ehm... Who is this?” He says, then he listens, and drops to his knees. “Henry! Are you calling from Level 1? HOW?! Do the doctors allow you to have a phone? You stole it?! Ohh... Yes, I know, Darler was located!!! Is THAT WHY you are risking your head and breaking all rules CALLING ME from a maximum security facility?!”

There is an awkward silence, during which James is trying to process the situation. Then Henry hisses in his regular habit, and Jim’s face changes to a soothing smile.

“Of course I will tell you everything.... it only took me 35 years to find my Darler.... Oh, I’m sorry, Henry! He is not “my” Darler. YOU are MY Henry!”

Henry’s suppressed tension is so that the sensitive Level 2 environment heats up around James and suddenly you feel Lord Carlton’s anger with your skin. I have experienced that with Henry so many times before. Moments like this make you melt back into the fabric of the Universe in a deeply pleasurable sense of unity.

James feels the irresistible pull, promising a lot of deep, sweet involvement, so he remains perky and acutely interested in the conversation.

“Yeah, so Christopher told me that Lady Lion got the message from Patricia... What am I going to do now that I know where he is? I can’t do anything. Darler is apparently being held without bail for violating three Covenants, and these are just the official ones.”

Henry says something I can’t hear, but James responds readily.

“I could. But since that I already found out that his “creditors” do not want me to interfere. They want him locked up for now. He hurt them all. A lot. His daughter told that to me many, many times. I was none the wiser what she really meant then! I got into it without knowing the depth of it. U-huh.... A rookie mistake.”

Henry hisses something quietly. It is obvious he has to conceal his conversation.

“I know why you are asking.” Jim’s voice was calming. “You are afraid I will buy him out and bring him here. And he will take your place in my heart... and in my bed.”

“There is nothing I can do legally to stop it, for he precedes Hafnian...” Henry’s voice broke through loud enough for me to hear. “But If you decide to leave me for Darler, James, I will not let Kyle rest until he finds a legal loop, in which I will strangle you both.”

 “He is not coming here, Henry. He can’t.” Jim’s soothing voice fell to a whisper. “I have trust in you. I know you love me enough to kill me. This is what keeps me going, your unconditional, eternal love.”

“Cut the rubbish, will you? Kyle is telling me, James,” Henry interrupted him rather sharply. “...all that needs to be done to contest the person in question is to enter an objection to the process. It can be entered only by someone who precedes the person in question. Leonard Rubinstein happens to precede your little escapade with Darler! I will hang you so high, James!!!”

James, however, did not lose a beat in the face of a barrage of threats.

“Henry, my love, I know I have given you very little reason to trust me. I know I did not protect you from your enemies, and I let them take you from me, but I am still your property at 75% as long as you bend your knee to Lady Lion. FYI, rest easy: just ONE broken Covenant will net you a lifetime of serving your victim/creditor.”

Lord Carlton hisses something I can’t hear, as the sun goes down below the sentient pines.

“Darler broke three of them, Henry! You do not need to invoke any other Article. I only broke ONE PARAGRAPH, and now the Michael family owns me at 25%. His ass is crucified, I am telling you. And the Eastwick Witches... I mean, his three wives totally mean it. Technically, #2 could not care less, and #3 is undecided, moving more towards peace than war, but Patricia is leading the attack.”

“I want to see her to be more serious than you about retaining Darler, and...” Henry’s voice broke up, and James submerged the phone into his bridgeplate to strengthen the connection.

“You will smell color purple now, for I just dipped the phone into the clouding bridgeplate... Henry, listen. Patricia is serious. She obtained a restraining order against me to keep me away from where he is being held. And get this, she obtained it EIGHT YEARS BEFORE I was born. Talking about wanting something! This is how much she wants my ass out of her family. Darler is going to have to serve her until she is satisfied. That’s minimum another lifetime on a short leash. THEN we can talk about him moving in with us.”

I looked above Jim’s head, and Dr. Michael’s apartment was now lit up.

“Yes, Henry, Patricia is very upset, she made sure she stayed pissed throughout, and the Law is on her side. She said no one is approaching him until she is done with him. As much as I love to protect my cronies-homies, this one is going back to New Orleans.” Jim belched and took a pull on his cigarette. “Talking about invoking Articles! Patricia showed me a long list of Articles she will shove up my sore Russian ass if only I as much as twitch towards Darler.”

Then, the empty apartment in the middle, the one previously occupied by Lord Sedgefield and his lovely husband, also had lights and action in there. Who was moving into Jim’s URET? Only very few had the right.

“So, do not freak out, and do not hold your breath. I’ve got you covered. I’ve got money and good news for you when you get out. Call me again ONLY if it is safe, ok? I will say goodbye now. I do not want to expose you any longer than I must. Remember: all I need to do with Darler is NOTHING. If I even as much as lift my pinkie in his support, good old Patricia will slap me with sanctions that will put Russian scandal with Ukraine to shame. She’s got a lean on his ass, get it?”

“She has “a lean”? What does it mean?” Henry growls through impromptu lyrics, wanting more confirmations of Jim’s loyalty.

“That means you will have me at my full legal capacity for the next 200 episodes, I hope. You can thank Patricia. I love you. The Oaths Of Northern Alliance Are Holy. You are my First Crowned Omega, Henry. I miss you deeply. Your Wallace is my solace. My Second Teacher is quiet and compassionate. Thank you for him. Stay safe and invisible. Daddy loves his Henry... On my knees, kissing your lovely Royal hands!”




“Every action comes from a statement that you repeat to yourself as you conduct the action.

If the statement on which the action is based is corroded by the ego-protocol, then you are engaging in the wrong action.

Now, all we need to see, is which ego-protocol has corroded which of your statements.

For It is important to repeat the CORRECT (Original Source oriented) statement, as you psych yourself up for an action.”

James, on “How Reverse/Shrink Your Escaping Proximity”



“That was crazy. Henry’s phone call from Level 1 yesterday was crazy!” Jim is on the bed, holding his head high, with napkins sticking out of his right nostril, dried blood all over his lips and chin. “Darler was found!!”

He can’t stop talking about Henry’s call. He is talking about it, while nursing his bleeding nose again.

“Darler and I go way back, Wallace. Yes, see, the year is 1974. I woke up in my room in the Grey Building, right? And the first thing I SENSE is a cartridge the color of “go fuck yourself” on my table.” He tries to laugh, and blood bubbles out of his nose.

“James, for the love of God!” I rush to him with yet another napkin.

He’s been getting bloody nose at least once a day for a week now. I feel like Sheba: is he sick? Am I the only one who sees and cares? Or, is he just THAT psychotic?

Or is he missing Henry this much?

I do not blame James, then. Sheba would. But I KNOW Henry. Once he unleashes his true self upon you, you will want no other. Especially if you are an omega like Wolf Hafnian. Or me. Or a loose beta like James, who was given drugs, and then they let him smell Henry’s underwear, or whatever Sheba thinks they did to him to make him fall for Henry so hard.

“And so... FIVE YEARS later I meet Darler! For six years we are inseparable.... But every time I look at the cartridge, the message reveals itself. And it repeats itself. It repeats itself. Then - boom! Darler’s body is found in the lake. And I lost it. While the message kept on. For forty six hours the message has been repeating itself with a phone number at the end. On the forty seventh’ hour, I mean, four days to my 47 th birthday, I FINALLY GET IT!!!”

“Ok.” I run my hand soothingly along his thin, long hair. I am attached, addicted to his female avatar, but James does not know it. Yet, I bring it up secretly over and over. Every time he thinks I touch short black Andrew’s hair, I am touching the long, thin strands of his hated female avatar.

I feel guilty, but I can’t help myself.

“And last night I finally dialed the number in that message, Wallace!”

“And?” I prompt.

“And on the other side this low female voice says: “What about “stay the fuck away from my family” did you not understand?!” And she hung up on me!” James tries his damnest not to laugh.

“Why did she give you her phone number, then?”

I ask and know in my heart,
Jim makes me laugh no matter what.

He is screwed up in the head, my beta, but still terribly funny. Maybe that is why he is funny. Because he was radicalized at a very tender age by this left-leaning gentleman he ran for six years with. While his wife’s message played on Jim’s table.

“I think she wanted to reiterate the message in person, for ultimate impact. Her husband was a Hollywood-trained producer, after all. Ahem. Apparently he taught her a thing or two in the short six years of their marriage from hell.”

Now we both laugh. Dr. Michael comes down asking what we were planning for dinner.

“I am having this sinner for dinner.” James points to me, and we burst out again.

“I don’t care if you have him for breakfast tomorrow, too, but today is your turn to pay! And Matushka wants to see you tomorrow at 3 pm for her weekly massage! Behave now!” Dr. Michael shakes his finger at James and ascends back into his most spacious apartment with a jacuzzi and a balcony view for Matushka.

Happy to please, James spared no expense for illusion panels to create a small paradise for the Michael family.

“At the end of the day, Wallace, Patricia is an Alpha who made me respect her. And I’m cool with that. Because Henry loves me!” James says through the napkins, his lips barely moving under the weight of crusted blood. Every attempt to clean up his face resulted in more bleeding, so I had to just let him be.

Now that we laughed so hard, I am watching his nose for the signs of more bleeding. And there are.

Ok, time to tell him.

“You’ve been bleeding for five hours, James. You need to stop raving about Henry and let me call Prince Moretr!”

“Not the entire five hours!” James holds on to his nose in a defensive gesture. He does not want to call anyone. “And Prince Moretr already knows, Wallace. There is no point doing anything right now. It is Friday night. If I make it through the weekend, then I promise to call a primary care physician on Level 1, ok? Other than that Father is taking care of us.”

I have been by his side all day. He’s been in bed most of the day. It is happening again.

Only this time James is no longer in panic mode.

“In the last 14 months I have known love, Wallace. If I am to die today, I will not die unloved. So every time this girl comes crying with bad news, I keep sending her to God, to learn how to always come with GOOD NEWS! ANY bad news are 9 FRAMES away! Father will always find a way to deflect. As He has always!”

“I agree.” I nod.

“We must stay positive. Like Henry, you know. Whenever he shows up, he is the harbinger of most amazing news!”

With that, my martyr finally returned to the work he was finishing on the bridgeplate. Then I wiped his tired face, changed the napkins in his nose, and cuddled his lovely, hot body until he fell asleep.

Then I laid there some more, and inhaled the smell of HER long, blond hair. Shhhh.... Don’t tell James.





                “MY ALPHA ROCKS!!!”

“Oh, yeah! Mr. Rockford was the PERFECT ALPHA, Wallace! He was deep, twisted, very ambitious, educated, extremely experienced. Scottish-speaking, not your regular ushki beiha! He was also highly intelligent. He was a prize! And he wanted me! But on one condition. That’s what Rockford Engagement was all about. And when I learned the condition, I remembered saying to myself “oh, that Alpha was too good to be true anyway!”

“The answer to your question, Wallace is the following: Mr. Rockford is a man of MANY conditions. The First Condition of Rockford Engagement was just a doorway into the Hall of Conditions. But the man chose a perfect strategy with me. He left me a bait, and he sat in ambush for seventeen years. After I took the bait and found myself in his hands, I was hooked from the get-go. He VALUES ME ENOUGH to have spent seventeen years of his life to stalk me. This hot, intelligent Alpha? Seventeen years? Yes, I’m hooked!”

“I don’t blame you, James.” I said while looking over his shoulder at him working the bridgeplate.










“My Prince, thank you for helping me with my most essential supply of blue ksill. This has been fixed for now. Wallace is my forever Solace, Henry just called me and reinstated his unconditional love for me by promising that if I eloped with my First Man, he will hang us both. Thatwarmwdup my heart! My Alpha wants me to worship him, and what good news is that! Good news all around! I AM YOURS, I can FEEL it, and I can pull through will everyone I want to Awaken with. BIT... H. M. is acting up again! What do you advise?”

“Do not worry, Lapulya! I’ll get you through it! I’ll also get you out of it! You are my star! In fact, James, you are my ONLY star, for you are the one who passed all the tests. You are ready to be Awakened and GO HOME!”

“Thank you, oh, thank you, my Prince!”

“All you ever need to worry about is what is for lunch.”

“Oh, I’m so happy to hear it! I’m so tired of being in control, and having to decide! I wish I could just RELAX and follow your orders!”

“Your wish is granted, Lapulya!”





“My dearest Henry!
Today is the day of signing of

        ROCKFORD-KELLSPELL-SMITH
                COVENANT

Tia Demetra was the only one allowed in. But worry not, I carried you in my heart. Remember, we set it out from the start: if I can’t pass you as my son, I can always pass you as my brother.

Mr. Rockford let me write you because I earned plenty of credits with good behaviour. As you instructed me, I make a lot of karmic credits and money, so I could spend it on you and your family. Your plan is working!

There is so much I need to tell you! I was very impressed when you called me from the slammer. That was genius.

I got suspended from school, and Commander Kumlatov has not spoken to me since. I am not the one to tell him that he is making a big deal out of this kerfuffle.

However, Tia Demetra took me under her (ahem, iron) wing, and she was teaching me Loyalty. She said it helps make tons of karmic credits you told me to earn for you.

I am now officially bonded with my Alpha and my Omega. But guess what, I can have more than one Omega! So I immediately chose you (as you have absorbed Wolf Hafnian, God knows how much I miss his hairy butt. But he is on assignment).

Dr. Michael is truly a powerhouse. But he is also in a pickle. He’s got over a million of his followers pressed against the grid and against the time. And everyone is looking at me.

Right away I told him, that you happen to be a VERY GOOD influence on me, and he needs to do his best to help me speed up your return from the institution, if he wants me inspired to continue working on the Key to the Pearly Gates.

Plus, it is the raising moon, so everyone’s roof is sliding, as we say in Russian. Merion was suicidal, MATUSHKA was just about suicidal! I had to sleep with her two nights ago. Like, together in bed. She needed to charge herself from me. I am only happy to oblige.

Mr. Milgram asked me to bring him Chinese takeout and four bottles of Red Label two days ago.

“What’s In the wontons?” He asked me, studying his food with a pained expression of his somewhat swollen and crumpled face (he’s been binging since Sheba eloped with David Reddington, as if he gives a shit about either one of them!).

“Cat, probably.” I said.

He raised his eyes and studied me for at least a full minute.

“It’s cannibalism to me, but not to you.” I explained to him. “Because YOU are DeVo’ing into a dog.”

With that our Raskolnikov accepted his fate, and ate the wontons.

Kyle has not been well. He misses you, above all. You are his rock.

I was pouring over all the photos of you that I have. Smelling your clothes. Remembering your lovely body, kissing your hands in my dreams.

Your St. Valentine’s gift for me, sweet Wallace, did plenty of it together with me. He is as smitten by you as Wolf Hafnian.

Wallace had a very hard life. I do not even know what you know about him. But thank you. He is the perfect choice.

Now, Mr. Rockford is our cherished Alpha. We ALL must love him, serve him and protect him. I have a long history with him, too.

I have made up with Darler’s filming crew. They are your gift, too. I am surrounded by gifts from you. Each the price of Rhodium.

I am going to pull every string I have to get you out as soon as I can. And I know they are treating you well there. They better!

Kissing your most incredible body all over. Focusing on tender parts! I want to dress you, undress you, give you a bath, feed you, groom you, take you for a walk as we used to, and get engaged in our secret world.

Concerned with tightening our bond, I went through the protocols, and I found enough of our Covenants to choke a horse.

In other words, you have nothing to worry about. When the cage opens, be ready to fly.

I sleep with my Alpha and my omega now. When you get back, you can sleep in your Royal Chamber.

Enveloping you with my deepest love. You are forever a part of me. You are my beloved First Omega.

Thirsty for my most splendid Lord Carlton!

I want to sniff your butt,
your James
(I am now “Jess” with my Alpha)!

The Day of Signing of
ROCKFORD-KELLSPELL-Smith
COVENANT (my Bday)







Our Hourly Affirmations Of Loyalty to make our relationship Eternal:

@   
@
@





WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW


THE SHEPHERD’S APPRENTICE
{Under Rockford-Kellspell-Smith Alliance)


CHAPTER 125 (from 119)


“You know this gathering place for those who passed all tests?”
“Yes, Tia Demetra!”
“Meet me there.”

Tia Demetra and James Kellspell.
After hearing this, Jim was so excited that he made a vow to quit his favorite NES-drug: Self-Pity. Why? Because his venerated martyr Tia Demetra set a date with him in the “Garden Of Martyrs”. And real martyrs don’t complain.

“My James, i need
Your Oculum here:
I have for you
Anti-Venom for Fear”

I wrote that to him using his poem-weaving app.


“And what do THEY know about me? The times of punishing weakness, the pain of loss that overwhelms, the secrets I will take to my grave, for I can trust no one here with them.”

-1

James cleared his throat, after reading over my shoulder.

“That’s some strong prose, Wallace.”

“It is on YOUR channel.” I sighed.

“This is what it’s for!” Jim gives me a warm welcome both with his face, and with the tone of his voice. “We will cherish and respect the pain of each other.” That’s the foundation of every relationship I ever had.”

I Iove it. We have found a fiddle we both enjoy playing.

“You found a fiddle of self-pity, Wallace. There! I can finally read your mind! Those little subtitles on your bridgeplate that you get? Subtitles that tell you what I think in every scene? It goes both ways.”

-2

“Oh. Thank you for clarifying that, Mr. Rockford.” I say.

SINCE WHEN does he know what I think? How long has it been since I saw the subtitles on the bridgeplate?

“Wallace AND James. You will not be shooting up NES-poisons while I am your Alpha. James, you get upset - you come to Wallace. Wallace, you get depressed - you come to me.”

“Yes, Mr. Rockford. Wow! An Alpha in my house. A REAL Alpha!” James is in awe.

And I lift myself out of the blues. I must. If I want James to play my unborn daughter.

Here it comes.

-3

One minute of pure pain as Mr. Rockford speaks.

I never wanted to talk about it. Even when James totally misread the story of my life as Samantha from London in the late 1800s.

“Also, James, Samantha was not a virgin. She was four months pregnant when she killed herself. You did not pay any attention to the scene. All you did was watch her dream about being the queen, laugh at it, and piss on the nearby tree. Right now i am just listing the facts, no judgment.”

“Wow!” James loves it, when someone competent brings him to order.

-4

He does not want to be in disorder. He is not going to defend his behaviour on my grave. He just can’t organize his priorities. “I am totally with you, Mr. Rockford. I listened to the stinky machine, that had no compassion. I know where I went wrong. And Wallace seems to be very forgiving. I owe him so much.”

Where Sheba says “angry rants”, I say “passionate speeches”. But then, they said that about Hitler, too. So, where is the golden middle? Or, maybe, devastated by losing Sheba, AND blaming himself, Jim IS trying to mend his ways.





-5

“YOU WANT ME TO DO WHAT?!”

“James, please do not make a big deal out of it. You played other female roles before. You agreed to play mother for Wolf Hafnian. How about Henry’s sister?”

“Arrggg...” James shakes his head. “I feel like a wild hog, Wallace.”

What kind of a segway is that?

“Why, James?”

“Because it seems to be my job to dig up nuts.”

Very funny. “What does that have to do with my request?”

 “You are the quirkiest nut so far.” Kellspell sits by me and hugs me. “You see, I thought Krotkie was off his rocker.”

-6

I make a motion for him to get back on topic.

“No, listen.” James can bring out a beta in him, and suddenly I listen because I remember how good it feels when he nails me. “Krotkie, right? Then Henry was a fountain of passion. My eternal inspiration. I miss him deeply. He is mine forever. Sheba tried her damnest to pretend to be normal. But you....” He grabs my unshaven cheeks and shakes them. Then he kisses my nose. “You are a piece of work, Samantha!”

“Is that a yes, or a no, James?” It does feels good when he makes love to me, but I need to know something very important.

“Yes, of course! I will play your daughter in the scenario where you DO NOT commit suicide, and carry to term. As per Magnificat, I will become anything you want me to become to make you happy. I said that to Krotkie, I said that to Sheba, to Henry, and I am saying it to you.”

-7

“Thank you, James.” I whisper into his hand, kissing it. “I will be the best mother you could ever have.”

“Cool then, Mr. Smith.” Jim lets me kiss every finger on his right hand. We get up and dance slowly from the bed to the spiral staircase.

“And who was the father of the child?” Kellspell reaches out for my lips, but never gets a chance of touching them. “Wallace? Oh!”

I do not know how I find myself on the floor.

Then I feel James picking me up, and placing me on the bed.

“I know how emotional it is for you to remember your past life and death.” He says with very little emotion.

-8

When I needed him the most, he is suddenly distant. Not there. This is what Sheba noted.

Not “complained about”. Noted. She noted that James would abruptly get emotionally distant. As if he’d leave his body and be gone. For you to continue talking to an empty shell.

I want to see where Jim’s emotions leaked instead of being with me.

Sometimes we try to stress the presence of something we don’t have. We do not want people to learn that we do not have it.

As he helped me lay comfortably, he had a flashback that took away his attention from me to someone else.

I traced his emotional leak to Lord Henry Carlton. James remembered how much fun they had on this very bed. And how he, James, missed his large, energetic Royal mate.

-9

“Uups” James says that with his Russian accent. His accent intensifies when he feels challenged, scared or embarrassed.

Right now he caught me noticing his embarrassing attention leak. “I am not supposed to miss Henry. Longing for someone is a waste of energy. Instead, we must do what we are told to do, and do it well. The only One you should miss is God. Because He is the only One who exists.”

“I will tell no one.”

I am grateful for his attention leak. Not just James himself, after an impromptu sermon like that, EVERYONE forgot all about the father of my unborn child.

“I know we need to create the framework for our newly formed Alpha-Beta-omega liaison, Wallace!”

I nod and open the box of cigars.

-10

I arrived to the Strobulus a while ago. James knew nothing about my arrival. After all, to him, I was just “the sucker who stole his boyfriend”.

That was my “Palir” link. Jim only allows those who can prove their connection to him CHRONOLOGICALLY PRIOR TO Wolf Hafnian.

My PRIOR TO HAFNIAN link was not for the faint heart, though. I was “the man who stole Jim’s Israeli boyfriend.”

However, one does not need to have that connection to James to arrive to the Strobulus itself.

But if you can’t prove the Prior Connection, James Kellspell will not allow you into his Palir (the entryway). Let alone his Uret (his soul’s space, his bedroom proper).

And I needed to get there.

-11

Then I had to stay hidden from James for two months while Henry was warming him up to the idea of me... The man who caused him so much grief almost two decades ago.

These two months of waiting for my time to come to the stage (Jim’s screen, Jim’s Uret) were nerve-racking.

What if James does not accept me?

I was told his protocols and uplinks to Father were fixed, so he would accept the incoming without question, once the security of the link is confirmed {our Uret link was via Henry}.

But what if he did not like Samantha’s story?

I was told, don’t worry, he no longer has the ego-option of “liking” or “not liking”, once your legitimacy link is confirmed.

And then I found a way out of my mental torment. I got him a gift that would melt the ice.

-12

“Thank you!” James lit the cigar, and looked happy puffing on it.

I lit one, too.

“Once you plant the Garden, you need to start watering it with Daily Affirmations Of Loyalty. Henry and I had Hourly Affirmations Of Loyalty. There is nothing wrong with that!” He brings his face to mine, and kisses me on the lips.

Suddenly I am aware of how chapped my lips are, I probably have a bad breath, and  I did not shave, while I am being kissed by a hell of a gorgeous blonde with a body of a goddess.

“Sorry about that.” Jim gets back into his male avatar. “Mr. Rockford wants me female, Matushka wants me male... Mr. Rubinstein wants me female, Henry wants me mostly male, Mr. Milgram pays Lady Lion $5000 a night for me as a female... Sometimes I get confused, whose world to enter as what. Samantha, you need to relax!”

-13

He can hear my every thought. So can Mr. Rockford. And I can hear theirs, if I listen, and if there is no privacy curtain in the window of their mind.

Now the Alpha-Beta-Omega transference is complete. Once the Covenant is signed, the three become One. The Nucleus of the Future Amatrix.

“Now, have you noticed how much more pain Tia Demetra took in the last three years? When Lady Lion called me to ritual, I asked her, why does she torment her slave so. She said, she does not. Tia Demetra has her own thing, I was told. Well, anyway, did you notice how much more ego-programming Tia Demetra has scraped out of her soul with incredible amount of suffering she is going through? While on the outside everything in her life looks totally cuu-u-u...” James licks my left ear, and then inhales what is left of my hair.

-14

“Tia Demetra is known to do things like that.” I respond carefully.

Discussing colleagues behind their backs. James has a high IQ, but he sees no boundaries, he understands no propriety, and he has no shame. So, I am the one who has to lead him away from the edge.

“Yeah, but I keep on thinking: she  surrendered over ten years ago, she now has a job of the century (pretty much literally), there is seemingly nothing to worry about, but she comes for ritual Affirmations Of Loyalty smelling of deep internal struggle, like Raskolnikov. Why not forget the BS and just get fat with the rest of the cats?”

“James, maybe we should not be talking about Tia Demetra’s personal choices.”

-15

“Samantha! Do you not see what is going on? Tia Demetra has found a way to purify her soul in the midst of a hell of fat cat paradise! IS THERE ANY WAY WE CAN GET IN ON THAT?”

“Is it our business, James?” I hug him, and can’t help turn him into HER in my mind.

“Yes, it is, Samantha.” He senses the change, and tries to adjust for me, taking up his female avatar. “Tia Demetra found a way to dramatically increase her karmic credits in the environment where karmic credits are normally lost.”

“What is she doing, then?”

“Exactly. I WOULD LOVE to know. Why? I have a harem to support, and in it every mate is equally valuable and expensive. I would not mind to make extra karmic credits to keep them all safe and fed.”

-16

“I am the most useless of them.” I sigh.

“Oh, Samantha! You are just as sweet as Krotkie to make love to.” He caresses my lips with his, and I get so hard.

“I want to be naked for you.” I whisper with dry lips, and a longing heart.











-17

“Then what happened, James?” Rockford walks there and back by the sliding door to the backyard.

“Right!” James brightened up. “I am glad, SOMEBODY asked me, because as these events were happening, and Reddington was fired on corruption charges, and we lost the contract with MEOL, here I am corresponding with the MEOL insider!”

“Who was it, James?” Mr. Rockford is really good in the role of an interrogator. He is nothing like Henry, though. Henry might beat Jim until the curtains are all bloody, and Jim will giggle through it with a huge hardon.

But Richard Rockford is a totally different kind of a predator. And it helps with a scatterbrain, and a jellyfish James can be as a witness. Let’s watch!

-18

“The cat!” James spreads his hands while sitting on his bed, with Hafnian’s blanket positioned high on pillows as an altar of their undying love. “And, so, right before I did not give a shit anymore, I mean, right before I lost my entire team, the cat demanded ten kilograms of...”

“Cocaine?” Rockford took a step towards James and stared into his face.

“Nah!” James dismissed Rockford’s question with a gesture. “He don’t need Saul’s help for that! He can synthesize that in an afternoon. The fucking cat... Mr. Smith, how to say “the fucking fucked-up cat wanted ten kilograms of Rhodium” in proper British?”

“The unfortunate talking alien cat wanted ten kilograms of Rhodium”, Mr. Kellspell.”

-19

James turned to Rockford, and opened his mouth to repeat what I said.

“I get that!” Rockford said with a hint of impatience. “Then what happened?”

“Then he looked at our Periodic Table of elements, and wanted FIFTY kilograms of Rhodium! I said, dude... Apart from the fact that Rhodium is more expensive than gold, and I have five dependents.... How am I supposed to... Yeah, silly me, let me check FedEx rates to Andromeda!”

“Tell me more about that. Is our Periodic Table of elements different from theirs?” Rockford resumes his pacing, then takes one cigar out of the box on the night table. These were my gift to James.

-20

“Oh, no....” James caught a moment when Rockford was not looking at him, and secretly studied his features. “Mr. Rockford, while this brouhaha was happening, the cat looked at our Periodic Table, and told me “your people just changed the Periodic Table around.” He is sensitive to such things. I went there, and I did not find Lanthanum and Actinium, where they used to be lodged uncomfortably in Group 3...”

“And those who stole Lanthanum and Actinium, they were also stealing Rhodium? That is why the cat wanted 50 kg before they stole it all?”

This convo is insane, but James is factually correct. He just can’t stay focused long enough to keep his story straight, and that annoys Rockford.

-21

“My Alpha...” James frowned, trying to focus. “I asked the cat if he could spy for me on the MEOL Parliament after we lost Reddington, and THIS IS WHERE his hairy asshole suddenly wanted 50 kg of Rhodium. But it was all happening so fast. The same day he alerted me, that they switched around the elements in our rendering of the Periodic Table.”

“Who “they”, James? The aliens?”

“No, no!” Jim shook his head. “The American scientists.”

“Then what? What else did the MEOL insider tell you?”

“He told me...” Jim swallowed hard and his eyes froze on one spot on the floor. “He told me that Clandeslux patrols the continents of MEOL. Do you know what that means?”

-22

Rockford did not answer, and stood in the middle of the room, waiting for James to continue.

“This is when it hit me that MEOL MUST BE a part of Andromeda Federation!! Do you know what that means?”

“Whatever that means, we were told that Leot can’t start a war on MEOL.” Rockford said firmly.

“He can’t start a war, but he can still kill us all! If his secret police can patrol the planet openly, then his secret police would have access to our filming set. I know you just arrived, and this may be the issue for the producers to ponder, but how come no one fucking told me that?”

With no lines in this scene, I clear my throat as the only way to express my shock.

-23

Over the fact that he used an expletive.

That attracts Jim’s attention, and he gives me a look that reads: “If I cannot keep you all safe, no one is going. And sorry for the expletive.”

James is psychic. Sheba had access to his channel. Sheba reported to anyone who’d listen that James had repeated nightmares about being killed on MEOL.

While everyone told us that we would not be in danger.

“So maybe, just maybe, my mates, Henry, by his machinations, just saved our lives. And maybe, just maybe, you need to help me get 50 kg of Rhodium to pay my spy. He is more than worth his weight in Rhodium just sitting there on his hairy feline ass telling me the class and type of ships Clandeslux uses for patrol missions. For that, all he needs to do is look up. And the only reason I stuck my nose into it is because no one is gathering ANY intel before dumping us ON LEOT’S TERRITORY.”

-24

I took a deep breath and wondered if Lady Lion was watching us live. If she was watching us live, she’d be already calling Prince Moretr.

And if SHE is not watching us live, someone should be.

Prince Moretr, for God’s sake, should have known all that.

“Why are you upset?” I think and truly enjoy a wonderful, safe and confidential channel I now have with my James.

“If Henry was here, HE WOULD HAVE GOTTEN ME 50 kg of Rhodium. Now that the Kumlatovs took out my perfect right hand of Henry, there is no one for me to rely on to do the right thing, that is why I am upset, Wallace!!!” Jim gives me a pained look and turns to his Alpha.

-25

“If shit goes South, Mr. Rockford... Mr. Smith, when we are done, please help me translate “when shit goes South” into proper British. Thank you. Anyway, when shit goes South during the filming on MEOL, at the very least I will have the Stupid with a degree in chemistry on my side. Shove comes to push, I can always hijack a 2/3 Hexagon to fly you out of danger to the cat’s den. You’ve got to have a Plan B with the bloody political mess we are about to enter. What is your next question for me, Mr. Rockford?”

Richard only thinks for a moment.

“Here is my question, James: if your cat can see Clandeslux ships fly above his head, then how are we going to be out of danger in his den?”

That knocks Jim out of air.

-26

“This is where you want to fly us “out of danger”, if “shit goes South”, right? Why? Clandeslux will not dare cross a cat? Do the locals enjoy some kind of privileges?”

“No...” James shakes his head. He looks deflated, defeated. I want to come and protect him, but he survived so many interrogations with H.M, and then with Henry, that he is next to impossible to bring him to his knees when he does not believe he should be on his knees.

And right now he is not broken. His survival instinct told him to come up with a solution, and he did. Not the best of solutions, true. But as a beta, which is a leader in the absence of an Alpha, he had to come up with a plan.

“So, your “Plan B” in case of danger is go spend time with “the Stupid”? What did you think I was going to ask?” Rockford now leans over Jim in a way a teacher would, having found a grave mistake in student’s work.

-27

“What type of connection the cat was using to talk to me.” James whispers. He is shaken by Rockford’s logic, but not decimated by it. Still needing clarification before he can make up his DeVo’ing mind, what corner to turn, whose side to take. And what is good for the team.

“In other words, who is paying the cat is the one who is playing the cat. Right, James?”

“Yes.”

“What type of connection was he using, then, James?”

“Black Hexagon.”




-28

“Samantha, what is on our agenda for today?” Since James was suspended from school (it’s been three weeks), which forced Moretr to cancel all of Jim’s interviews, AND James lost his entire team, there is very little on his agenda for any given day.

“Your Alpha wants to see you.” I say and watch him crouch by the door, and then pretend to creep up on me like a predating cat.

“When?” James was about to swoop down on me.

“In half an hour.”

“Ohhh!” He is on top of me now, as I lay on the bed in Henry’s old dressing gown. “Then there is still time for me to see your cute toes!”

-29

“They are ugly old man’s toes...” I plead as James tries to take off my socks with his long, fast fingers. “James, please...”

His actions tickle my feet, and I resist. He gives up after a while.

“Ok! But tomorrow I want to see your feet! You’ve been wearing socks since you arrived, and you would never take a shower together with me! Why are you shy like a fifteen year old?”

Because I AM a fifteen year old.




-30

“Dear Banazir!
I would have never written you again since you dumped me for Wallace, and then changed your email address to protest the fact that I have been stalking you for ten years afterwards.

You loved that email. It was your mother’s email! But you felt hard pressed to abandon it, so I could not stalk you anymore.

Therefore, i can’t write you anymore, either.

You stupid fucker, I would have paid your mother’s debt, I would have brought you to the USA, we could have been so happy together.

-31

So, I would have never written, but your message came to me. It was an empty cartridge, but it was from Beer-Sheva. You are the only one I know there. So, it means that you were thinking about me.

Still, that alone would not have moved me to write to you. I have wisened up ever since. I have quit chasing people who are not interested in me.

I am now only chasing people who actually WANT to be caught by me. Like Henry. Henry stalked me for five years. That’s some dedication. Worth sinking my claws into.

And just when I thought nothing could top Henry’s efforts to engage me, there comes Richard Rockford, who stalked me for SEVENTEEN YEARS. After I also told him “no”. Kind of, get the message, Ban. I stalked you for ten years because Love is forever. It is the only love we understand.

-32

Due to these machinations I am now with... ahem, Wallace Smith. The man you told me you were leaving me for eighteen years ago.

Apparently you never reached him. He swears to God he would have remembered a man from Israel by the name of Banazir Neimark. That’s pretty exotic, he said, and I quote.

Honestly, I have no idea what are you doing now, and I will probably never know, unless one of us becomes famous. But knowing you I think that you probably never married, and still live in the same apartment with your mother Galina.

Ten years after our breakup, when you found out that I was still stalking you, you told me that she had paid her debt. It was, like, the last thing you told me. It was our last conversation before you changed your email, so I could no longer trace your whereabouts and chase you across forums and chat rooms.

-33

And now we will never talk again, even as you send me your lonely mental messages. Having received them, I can’t respond.

You are stuck in your cage.

But I am no longer in the cage from which I wrote to you.

If you agreed to come live with us when I offered you, you could have been out of your cage, too.

A lifetime later, I know that no one can order their heart who to love. So Wallace and I will just wait for you at the Pearly Gates.

Do you still love Wallace the way you told me you loved him?
Exactly how pure your love for him was? Do you still love him the same in your heart now that he is an old man and out of work?
What was in those parcels that you sent him before you left me for him?

-34

Your heart was right about him. He IS one of us. But in a way you could never imagine.

And you will never know.
Because you never reached him.
Twenty years later he reached me.
Figure me this, Maura.

Still hot for my exotic Jewish boyfriend. Pearly Gates, tonight, 6 pm.
Meever Lamavet.
Your Katan.”






-35

“Quick intermission, gentlemen!” James raised his hand. “My chemistry consultant is Victor K. Muratov via Arkchil Network.

James is pulled aside by Lady Anne, who was sent by Lady Lion.

“Yes, it IS his real name. That’s my uncle!”

Lady Anne continues to whisper into Jim’s ear.

“Yes, but this script is just for internal use. We are going to change EVERYONE’S names! Henry will collapse if his real name ever comes out! Kyle, too. And Mr. Milgram.”

Lady Anne shakes her head and her index finger, and continues to whisper.


“Mr. Muratov? No, he was just a pharmacist, but he wrote a book on poisons - organic compounds, non-organic compounds, alcaloids and such, and he was famous for that in scientific circles... The point is, he’s been my consultant for two decades, and... oh... really? Then cut, cut!”


-36


“Yes, so then, his mother was Polina, his father - Konstantin, and the grandfather he shared with my Dad was Dmitry Safonov. And Dmitry Safonov was the serf-doctor I told you about. An enslaved dude of a very high IQ.”




“Suffering is both a gift, and a job. You only have one day. If your hours yield suffering on that day, God will pay you handsomely.”

“Is that how you overcame the fear of physical suffering, Tia Demetra?”

“Yes.” Demetra answers simply.

-37

“I can drink your wisdom endlessly, my Lady!” James tries to kiss Demetra’s hands, but she moves them away uncomfortably. “It sounds that suffering is like a vein of gold in the rock, right?”

“Yes. Expect it. Look forward to it. Enjoy it.”




“Listen to this, Wallace! This is the best damn prose I have ever read after Dostoyevsky: “I do not remember a day in my life when I was not in pain.” Oh, that is splendid! Tia Demetra has shown them all!  I can do this. I feel that I can handle my life now.”

This was all the consolation James needed after seemingly losing pretty much everything his team has been working for in the last five years.

-38

I know Tia Demetra texted this to James from her phone on a thin crescent of a difficult rising moon.

Finally! We are now allowed to use our phones on Strobulus.

There are more and more people, and some are simply incapable of using bridgeplates. People’s moods come through it in colors, for one. And we are used to receiving our people’s moods in a form of a phone call.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
So, everyone’s phone is now connected via one bridgeplate at Prince Moretr’s office. Now humans can use their phones on an alien spaceship.

-39

“Tia Demetra is a CHOSEN ONE, AND a martyr. What a perfect combo! She’s been on the cross since she woke up in that hot man’s body of hers! I want to be like her! I WANT TO BE LIKE HER, Wallace! For that I need fifty more gallons of humility, an a couple of liters of morphine. What are you doing?!” James stops pacing there and back and stares at me.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I am reading a newspaper!” I even put on my reading glasses for better effect.

“Wallace, you are reading “PRAVDA”, dated July 17, 1981. Just for our audience, this newspaper is in Russian. And this particular one is from my archives. Did you go through my possessions in the attic/Level 1?”

-40

I give it a good long pause to build up tension.

“Yes.”

I just admitted to searching through Jim’s belongings in Genesis 17.

What would you do if I told you that I went into your house and rummaged through your drawers? My good guess is you would not have liked it.

James Kellspell? He believes in a different kind of love.

You need to prove your love for James? Go through his personal belongings. Make sure he walks in on you while you are at it. Read his personal email. Remember to leave your half-eaten apple by his computer.

-41

Use other people to control him on your behalf. Leave him a clue that they are following YOUR orders. Go to great lengths to stalk him. Finally, slap him in the face. With witnesses, if budget allows. That is guaranteed to leave him breathless. In other words, show him that you REALLY care by breaking the boundaries of his mental solitary confinement.

If he finds you going through his garbage in search of used condoms to determine who else he fucked - you just scored major points with James.

If he learns that you went to great lengths of fraud and deception to get to him, you have just become his hero.

-42

If he sees you plotting to retain him whether he wants it or not - you’ve just proven your true feelings for him.

I will tell you, that Sheba Of Salem’s records show James as one sick puppy.

Read the above again.

Not exactly the “to do” list for a suitor of your everyday maiden.








-43

    “The Alphabet Of My Love for God”


From James Kellspell’s private classes with Prince Moretr:


           RULES ARE MY CLAWS

TO HOLD ON TO THE TRUTH

WHEN THE STUPID WANTS

TO TAKE ME FOR A HURTFUL,

ILLEGAL RIDE AWAY FROM GOD.


MORE RULES FROM GOD -
MORE CLAWS TO RESIST
THE HARMFUL PULL OF THE EGO.

-44

EGO ONLY AND EVER
BRINGS ME PAIN.

GOD ONLY AND EVER
BRINGS ME PLEASURE.

I CHOOSE GOD.


YOU MUST LET THE LIGHT
OWN YOU
SO THAT THE DARKNESS
CANNOT CLAIM YOU







-45

Let’s go with HOW, then:

Usually in the morning the machine starts with tickling my Oculum (Father’s stolen property!) It offers many reasons for me from my life to hold a grudge and blame God.

A buffet of reasons to be desperate and hateful.

Five years into rehab, and I still fall for it.

How do i remain CLEAN, with my Honor intact?

The machine has three stages of subverting you.

This is MY OWN algorithm that I wrote before I took the poison and fell under the influence of my own voice on the tape recorder:

-46

How to experience a tremendous amount of emotional pain:

I  Make him (MYSELF!) believe he is doomed, forgotten, abandoned.
(bring up examples from life)

My notes [James Kellspell]: I am ALREADY in the middle of a fight in the middle of a car wash, deeply asleep, unable to sense Father all around me, trying to relieve my nightmare of being left behind ALONE in such circumstances. No wonder you will have a thousand examples from your life to show being abandoned! The ego will never tell you that the reason you are “abandoned”, is because you have abandoned Father first. How? By taking poison and falling into a nightmare of life where you FORGOT TO INVITE GOD!

The machine has three main levers of controlling you.

-47

I GET THE VICTIM (you) UPSET BY SAYING //////////

After the machine suffocates you in that, whether it was successful, or not, it moves to the next on the circular programming.

SHOW YOU THE IMAGES THAT WOULD MAKE YOU TALK.

Talking is like flushing money down the toilet. If every word we said or typed was $10, we would try to get by with as few words as possible.

The ego befuddles you to believe that using Father’s Tool (we know this part as “speech”) all the time is OK and FREE.

This was one of the “break God’s boundaries” thing I wanted to experience in this nightmare (“Big Bang” was the moment I fell asleep and woke up here, and continued to run from Father).

-48

Here we say:

I MUST SHUT UP, FOR I KNOW THAT USING FATHER’S TOOL is very expensive, and He already knows everything I have to say.”

We block that hole of energy drain.

The machine, the , moves to the third part of the Algorithm of driving the victim away from Father:

III. DISTRACTION.

It will try to pour grey colors on everything concerning God, to make you believe that it is “boring and useless”.

It knows it must keep you away from God but these three simple steps.

-49

It has been successful in achieving it’s goals for 13 bln yrs as we sit here.

Let’s see again how low we have fallen, and if we can develop resistance to these three simple steps that encompass the simplest of strategies to keep me away from God, therefore, in pain.

THE MACHINE WILL RUN YOU IN CIRCLES IN THREE SIMPLE STEPS
[Please understand that EVERYONE IS WATCHING, and you are looking stupid when you run with the stupid}.







-50

Again, this is how YOU LET the stupid robot run YOU, the self-befuddled Child Of God:

I     CREATE A FEELING OF ABANDONMENT: YOU ARE ALONE WITH YOUR PROBLEMS.
[keeps up the ice between you and God]

HOW DOES IT DO IT:
The machine JUDGES the events of your life
It COMPARES you to others.

YOUR DEFENSE I:
Machine, shut up.
Judgement and comparison are
Father’s Tools!
The stupid robot is simply not allowed to touch them!
I can’t listen to ILLEGAL ACTIVITY.
{Your following the Rules defend you from machine’s attempt to hurt you with the Tools meant to heal, as they are now in the wrong hands}

-51

YOUR DEFENSE II:

Immediately do what it is trying to prevent you from doing:

COME TO FATHER! Say: the machine is working my mind against You. Please heal my pain. I come for solace TO YOU, not to the stupid machine.



II     GET THE VICTIM TO START TALKING
[ achieves a tremendous waste of energy to ensure you can’t spend it on mending bridges with God]

Talking includes ANY COMMUNICATION from you. The only reason you can’t hear God is because you are constantly trying to express yourself. You might think it is cool, but in your inebriation with your freedom you are losing God’s PROTECTION. Know: pain is just around the corner. You will not hear the warning from Father in time, if you do not stop talking.

-52

III     DISTRACT THE VICTIM AWAY FROM GOD, TO ANYTHING.
[Ensures further amnesia about who you really are]

Here you tell me why you can’t pay attention to ANYTHING that is not FATHER or YOUR DIRECT RESPONSIBILITY.












-53

I say:

THE MACHINE IS LOCKED UP.

Oh, it has failed to get you to hurt Father by rebuking Him for stuff He did not give you to make you happy...

The machine does not get upset. It has all day to run you (and Father!) in prerecorded painful circles.

Therefore,

NEXT ON THE dumb machine’s ALGORITHM:

“Usage Of Father’s Tool by a blinded, drunk imbecile that I am.”

Am I stupider than the tape recorder?
How can I rebuke Father in anything, when I, myself, continue making the same mistake 3000 times a day? (Sometimes up to 40 time a a minute)?

-54

YOUR DEFENSE:

The machine is LOCKED UP behind the plexiglass with a lock on it.

I can’t hear ANY twisted lies it spits out to break me up with God.



Here we go. I got it. After it failed to push me into the pit of self-pity, it moved on to the next in its algorithm:

USE FATHER’S TOOL for release of mindless sounds (commonly known as “talking to yourself”)

Why? Because I stole Your Tool, and I can’t stop playing with it, like a kid with a knife.

A good meal can be prepared with a knife, but only if you know how to use it right.



LEVEL I:

“My Prince, I’m so upset with the British. 30 years ago I’d be delighted just to participate! But now I see them taking advantage of me. And who else do I come to for consolation, if not you? What are my options? Should I be grateful that they got a hold of me and invited me, or should I make a note that they do not care if I spend $3000 on traveling to meet them?

If that was not enough, they want me to write poems to recite on camera. What I’m saying is, Thomas is going to get paid for all this. And I feel like a circus animal, who is asked to perform for free, AND the animal is asked to pay its way to get to where the circus is. I know you will make it up to me, and I AM very grateful for having been found by them against all odds of obscurity (they called Grun for my phone number?!).

But what am I supposed to do with the fact that the BRITISH PRODUCERS made me go ask my mate for money?

“I am looking into it, James.” Moretr responded, his eyes unfocused, staring ahead of himself, to the network only a Grehedi can see.

“This is where I’m stuck. I had no choice but to say to H.M.:

These people want me to volunteer for them. And these people want me to pay my way to the place of volunteering.

Worth noting: the company I will be contributing my time and money to, is not a charity in any way.

Since I am basically destitute, I am going to ask you, my mate, to spend about $3000, so we could go to L.A. to dance for the British, every single one of which will be paid handsomely for their time. And then some, after the show is aired.

Thank you, my sweet mate H.M. I will make it up to you for helping me serve the man you never met, and to whom you owe nothing.”

Moretr nods, and stretches out his long hand to touch something in the air.

“My Prince?” James starts a cigarette. Rockford lets him smoke in the bedroom on the rising moon.

“Please, carry on, my love.” Moretr is working in Hexacode. Now we actually have pictures available to see what the Grehedis see “in Hexacode”.

“All in all, I care not about the British.” James took a deep, long, desperate pull on his cigarette. “It is just one month. In June, with all others equal, this crap will be over with. I know you will help me back on the wagon I fell from. At the end of the day (Sheba hates this overused expression!), I’m doing if for Darler. And I can take it all. But I’m running out of blue ksill. My Prince, are you listening?”

“Record in progress, James.” Moretr responded, while shifting his glance to the Arkchils above, and nodding to them.

“Here is the problem: as soon as I saw my supplies ending, I notified my contact. Next week the stupid bitch showed up and handed MY ORDER to a very surprised, and somewhat irked H.M.

After that unpleasant scuffle, where H.M. knew better than confronting me about my blunder (she fucking told him THAT I ASKED HER TO BRING IT!!!), I instructed  my contact to bring it TO ME next time, and to me ONLY.

Since then my contact has not come back to me. It is going on two weeks.

I have about a week’s worth of ksill left of my personal stock. After that I will be forced to get into H.M.’s safe and break the seal on the emergency package.

Once that happens, I will live in fear for the next two months that he might find out.

If (when?) he finds out, the true extent of my addiction will be exposed.

The seal on the package can not be restored. Once opened, it is impossible to conceal the fact... Or re-seal the fact, what the fuck, puns is not what I care for right now.

I am taking this time to explain in detail my dire need so that everyone understands, that if I am exposed, H. M. will confront me, and there will be a lot of pain on both sides.

In one week, I will repeat for the record, in one week my situation will become critical.    

My only fault is that I did not spell out to the STUPID, that our conversation was CONFIDENTIAL. God forgive her, for her IQ is 75 on the sunniest of days. Maybe that is why she chose to live in Florida.

Satire aside, had she handed the order TO ME, I would be in possession of enough to last me till the end of this engagement.

In the case of “lost in translation” the order now resides in H.M.’s safe, out of my reach.

This is what happened, true to God, My Prince.

I have nothing else to report. Thank you.”


Oh, not three hours later, James is talking to Moretr again.

“I just received, basically, a “no” from my contact. To add insult to the injury, she preached to me AA-style on how to quit, my Prince.

I did not see it coming.

I did not need to hear that.

I did nothing to provoke it :)

ALSO, worth noting, I would have been FINE and not in need of a borderline imbecile lecturing me on shit she has no idea about, if my own 2 months’ worth of stock was not STOLEN four months ago, by a man, who apparently needed it more than me.”

As Prince Moretr appears in our bedroom, unseen to everyone, James turns his head in his direction, and continues talking.

“Therefore I am asking you to allow me to increase the intake of alcohol beginning one week from now to make up for blue ksill as a stop-gap measure until the supply is restored or this engagement ends, whichever comes first.

I am done with my grievances. I swear and promise to keep suicide off the table no matter what, as was agreed. Why? Because I finally truly believe now that people do watch this show, for our ratings plummeted after Henry was removed from the set. That gave me a lot of hope.

On an unrelated note, “people” do not exist, and YOU asked me not to use suicide as a bargaining chip.

I will do it for you, my Prince. There can be nothing between us. I am really finished now.”



Valid advice from a reliable instructor:

Tia Demetra: When on the cross, keep your back straight. No one cares about your personal pain. You look handsome up there now. In the evening, meet me by the cave. Be alone.”

[the end of access to Jim’s personal channel]



[the end of Episode 125]


@
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WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

      THE SHEPHERD’S APPRENTICE


    CHAPTER 124 (from 119), 50 pages


       ROCKFORD-KELLSPELL-SMITH
                ALLIANCE


     On The Edge Of My Memories

There is a place on the edge of my memories.
This is where I spend time with my James.
I can’t believe he took me, when no one else wanted me anymore.
And he never once regretted it.
And he did not think twice,
When he saved the life
Of a man, who stole his boyfriend.

                Wallace Smith

“What a sappy, girly poem, jeez, Wallace!”

James, casually shattering my romanticism on the way to the bathroom.


Chapter 124
-1

Reg. James Kellspell via his bridgeplate:
“My Prince, please help me stay healthy and I will take care of everyone! I am in pain today and I ask for Your protection! If I croak, they all are going to get flushed away again.”

Prince Moretr: “The Original Source has heard your prayer, James. Through my ancestors He is here. Please do your job. We are not going to drop you. You are too fragile and too expensive. A project nine hundred million years in the making. And happy Wedding Day!”



                Chapter 124
        ROCKFORD-KELLSPELL-SMITH
                ALLIANCE

                The Wedding Day

-2

“This is Regent James Kellspell of Emerald Filament Team, opening Episode 124 with an emergency explanatory briefing, or whatever you want to call it.

What can I say, friends, we have lost three members, all omegas. They are Wolf Hafnian, Samuel (Sheba) Of Salem, and Henry Carlton.

We have received two members, Mr. Richard Rockford, an Alpha, and Mr. Wallace “Sam” Smith, an omega.

In an unexpected twist of things I lost my First Mate, but I acquired Mr. Richard Rockford. He is to marry me today.

Announcements to our team, or what is left of it:

Today is Kyle Merritt’s birthday. Kyle is kept in his room. About a month ago he decided to surrender to Henry, instead of me, as was planned originally. And then... then Henry was taken away.

-3

My ex Kyle Merritt was of fragile emotional nature to begin with, and now he is essentially toast. So, don’t mess with him, leave him alone.

He may never get over losing Henry, but he is my dear ex-boyfriend, we broke up in the year of {censored} alaetar kriagir. There was 30 years worth of misunderstanding between us, and I wish it was not so.

Kyle might never get back to any duties on the team, but I will pay his way to the Pearly Gates. Don’t you worry about Kyle. If nothing else, he taught me how to love your mother! He earned his place in my heart.

Mr. Smith, how to say “the man is toast” in proper British?”

-4

Mr. Rockford does not let me respond, and  makes a motion for James to stick to the agenda.

“Yes, Mr. Rockford!” James nods. “Agenda... Wallace, what is next on our agenda? I see... Today is my 21st Anniversary with H.M, then I am done with announcements. Then introductions? Ok!

(to the Arkchils/audience)

Yes, people! I would not waste anyone’s time to describe the devastation caused by my First Mate’s mental illness, but for the fact that I got a new team.

Do I say “I asked for a team and they dredged up the Pacific”? No? Why not? Look, Wallace, the audience is getting a kick out of it! They are laughing their asses off. Half of them got the reference to “Catch Me If You Can”. That was a funny movie! Oh... I must do introductions now? Ok, sure!

-5

(To the Arkchils/audience)

I did not even ASK for any new team, people! And I got the BEST team ever! I never thought Krotkie, Sheba and Henry would be “in the past”...” James falls silent for a second, and lowers his eyes.

“But, quoting the wisest fag of all times, Freddy Mercury... Show must go on!!! Oh, Wallace, what? “Fag” is a politically incorrect term? Well, Henry is not here to get all bent out of shape! Oh? Well, I’m gay, too! Still not good? What do you say? Can I say “The wisest homosexual of all times”? Oh, I know... “Freddie, the wisest queen of all times”? Still not good?

Oh, to hell with the political correctness! Introductions!” James roars into the eyes of Arkchils, to deliver the highest impact to his audience everywhere.

-6

“My soon to be Mate, Richard Rockford. A real Alpha! He undresses me with his eyes every time our glances meet... We are yet to get to know each other, though. Right now we are in the process of gathering a binder of paperwork to prove that he has a right to be in my bed, for I might wake up in the middle of the night and want to know why is this gentleman here? This is when he hits me with that binder of paperwork.

Next, my new omega, Wallace “Sam” Smith. Some say he is too old, but I say keep your million-dollar whore. No one sucks dick like an old faggot. Welcome aboard, Mr. Smith!

I smile to the audience, torn apart inside. How do I ever teach this man propriety?!

I whisper into his ear how inappropriate all this was.

-7

“What?” James acts shocked. “We can’t say that? Well, I am openly gay! When DO I GET TO SAY “faggot”, Wallace?”

For sure not while introducing ME.

The good thing is that no one from Earth is watching “Emerald Filament” show (it is named differently in different parts of Andromeda), or I’d have “a lot of ‘splaining” to do at home. Is that the American way to say it?

Rockford makes a motion for me to cut Jim out.

“One last thing, people!” James knows when he has exhausted all of his grace in Rockford’s eyes for today. “Live long our connection with the Sheiredis! Even as Commander Kumlatov, basically, singlehandedly removed my First Mate from the set of this reality show.”

-8

“Cut, Mr. Smith, CUT!” Prince Moretr appears on my bridgeplate.

“My friends, we have to go to the commercial!” He says after I switch to his face.

Their commercial: “Leot’s Crown Estelian School. The Best “Grade A” Estelians for All Your Needs!”

We will get back to that. Tune in on their TV channels, and you can lose your mind. Immersion into the Andromedan culture needs to be slow, knowing what you are doing.

Mr. Rockford does not let me just browse their stuff yet. “I care about your mind, Samantha.” He wants to protect the woman in me.

-9

And he wants the man in me to serve him.

Mr. Rockford is complicated. One thing with him though, is that he teaches you to read between the lines.

Most people aren’t even aware of the fact that there is always a background text running within every single person.

They give you the lines that they were taught to say to pretend to be normal. But this person’s background text reads “I hate my wife for usurping the power in the family”.

And that person’s background text screams “I live with a bucket on my head and life for me is one rarely pleasant, convoluted movie. I would regret being stuck in it less if only I could have my money back.”

Stuff like that. My friend and my employer Richard Rockford is really good at deciphering that background text in your head.




-10

James and Richard Rockford are in what was formerly known as “Jim and Sheba’s bedroom”, and now it is a new installation with a spiral staircase to Dr. Michael’s apartment instead of the northern wall.

“Today is a very important day for us, James.” Rockford says slowly, while seeking entrance into Jim’s mind.

“Yes, it is, Mr. Rockford.” James is sitting on the bed as Richard is holding his hand.

“Today is the only day when you get to interrogate me.”

“Ok!” James jumps right into it. “How long have you known Wallace Smith?”

“Eleven years.”

-11

“Why me? Clearly, you have chosen me WAY BEFORE the function with the Michael family. What happened at the function was just theatrics. A consequence of a decision you made prior to that day. I dare say Dr. Michael might have brought me TO THAT FUNCTION to give you an opportunity to claim me publicly. And there had to be the right crowd, because the Muggles would have never understood.”

“I can only tell you that I have a lifelong fascination with Russia.” Rockford responded, now bringing Jim’s hand to his face, and caressing it.

Right in front of Richard, Jim’s hand was female.

“Just like Milgram.” James thinks. I am not plugged to his channel just yet, but I can see his thinking process on the bridgeplate.

-12

This is all he can see today. Tomorrow he will go deeper under Mr. Rockford’s skin. And Mr. Rockford will let him.

They both want to unite on every level. And wherever they go, from now on, they will take me.

It is Alpha-Beta-omega.











-13

“I see your position.” James notes, as Mr. Rockford is holding both his hands, kissing every thin woman’s finger on it. “You ran your Rockford Corporation, and you knew you’d be greatly enriched if you acquired a chunk of an Amatrix like me. It would give a home to me, and it would make you WHOLE.”

“Yes.” Rockford nodded. It is not all true, but then I never know what is true with Mr. Rockford. “Would you brush and braid my hair?”

“I would be delighted to!” Having lost his mates, Jim was hungry to take care of someone who could give him warmth.

I am now the only omega he can come for comfort to.

Someone has to operate the Arkchil channel. And the one who does it, is very lonely here at the bridgeplate. This is how Sheba felt. Now I know her dilemma.

-14

Maybe I want to sit by Jim’s feet and kiss his hands and give him warmth, but I must man the bridgeplate.

For it is The Legend that makes us real. I am the Chronicler. And after Sheba? There are big shoes to fill.

“So, you found yourself a bride, and you snared her with a spell. She would have been yours, but you had to put your condition on it. The Amatrix had to be in its female avatar.” James took one of Henry’s brushes from the dresser in the Royal Chamber, and was now brushing Rockford’s long black hair.

“Yes, I did that.” Rockford smiled with pleasure as James worked his head carefully.

“You snared me, and then you let me walk away. The unbridled bride.”

-15

“Yes. Marriage is a two-way street. I made an effort, and I wanted you to make an effort, too.”

“Right. Very smart.” Jim went to access his bridgeplate for archive footage. “I do not want to challenge you. I will never make that mistake again. But....

Stuff has to match in my head.
If it does not match,
Then I am being had.

And I only like that in bed, Mr. Rockford. So let’s go back to the timeline between your spell and today.”

“Ok.” Rockford responded calmly, as Jim carefully braided his hair and was putting a tie at the end.

-16

“Six months after I refused to join you, high on drugs, I broke into Dr. Michael’s house. He found out, he reported me. The matter was resolved privately, but I was suspended for 13 years. And then the Michael family was allowed to acquire 25% of Kellspell. Fast forward four years, and Dr. Michael drills a spiral staircase through my bedroom. And you step off it. What gives?

Did you send Dr. Michael to watch over me while you gave me time to think about the condition of the Rockford Engagement?

I also happen to have remembered that Lord Sedgefield’s apartment was dark and empty about A WEEK BEFORE Henry was taken by the medical personnel.

You know how I remembered? Dr. Michael never mentioned Lord Sedgefield among those who he asked about dinner the night I found Samantha behind the epilepsy stone.

-17

So, someone, somewhere KNEW A WEEK BEFORE that Henry was going to be found legally insane enough to take him off the show.

And I also know that it was not Sheba, or any of you who triggered Henry’s psychiatric evaluation and subsequent removal off the set.

It was Mr. August. He was the one who filed the complaint with my school. The Kumlatovs, then, took action. Mostly against Henry, even as our show’s ratings were through the roof thanks to our kerfuffles and pandemoniums.

I could never make that complaint go away, no matter what I said to Uri. And no matter what Prince Moretr said to Uri.

-18

The Kumlatovs were furious that Henry was selling tickets to Strobulus, and they also blamed Henry for our loss of Reddington as the mediator with MEOL Parliament.

And then there were many, who were appalled at ticket-selling frenzy Lord Carlton started.

Suddenly, there were too many legal arrows pointed at Henry.

It was time for us to wrap it up. I knew it. I must agree. If only for Sheba’s sake.”

“Thank you, James.”


-19

“Very well, Mr. Rockford. I am very happy with all this. You are a tremendously valuable Alpha. So, lastly. While you were on the way here, I signed the contract with Levin Corp. Don’t get me wrong, I care nothing about money. I can survive on dog food. But i care about Aunt Demetra and Lady Lion. I feel responsible for the stuff that I sign. I do not want to hurt them. What is your spin on that, sir?”

“I have an answer, James.” Rockford wants to be attentive to every detail. “I take my words and actions seriously, too. Levin Corp has acquired both you and Lord Carlton. Now they are letting me use you until they need you.”

“Oh, whew. That solves a lot of issues for me.”



-20

“Some legal protector you are. You could not protect Carlton from the simplest of legal arrows - he was taken off the set because he was found legally incompetent!” Richard’s eyes are focused on James, and I get a thousand flashbacks where his eyes were just as focused on me.

“Yeah, about that.”

In my mind, the look of utmost guilt on Jim’s face is superimposed on Richard’s chilling stare.

“That was a low blow, Mr. Rockford.”

“Tell that to the gallows, Mr. Kellspell. “The prosecution gave me a low blow, that is why I lost the trial.” Richard takes a deep breath.

-21

“No violence. I promised her - no violence.” This is what is on his mind as he is grilling James.

I suddenly see Mr. Rockford’s data on the bridgeplate!

Where did that come from? Richard Rockford is one of the most secretive people I have ever met. He NEVER lets you know what he thinks. So, he would never let me into his mind, via bridgeplate or otherwise.

Wow... Let’s sit on it and tell no one for now, shall we?

“No, I mean...” Jim chuckles uncomfortably. “Low blow” in terms of doing it again! They already did that once! No one remembers, but Henry had already undergone a psychiatric evaluation about a month into his arrival to the set. And he was found to be legally incompetent!”

-22

“True.” I nod.

 “I remember talking to “5 Minutes To Revelation”, and telling them that I will be charging for interviews, because I need to support my mentally ill spouse. For one, i needed to get an illusion panel to install another bedroom for Henry. I almost want to say “Sheba, do you remember that bit?”, but my Sheba is not here anymore.”

“Where does that take us?” Rockford got a hold of himself, and was now calm. At least on the surface.

“After Henry was found legally incompetent THE FIRST TIME, it did not stop our producers from retaining him. So I put that threat away. We already got slapped with that duck, and it did not kill us, so why should I worry?”

-23

“But, you did not save him in the end.”

“Sometimes there is only this much Johnny Cochran can do. That’s because the client has accomplished more than can be undone in one lifetime.

Henry was drunk on the freedom I gave him, and he challenged everyone in sight. In Henry’s mind he was the king of the hill now, because he was fucking the Prophet. He lit too many fires. He pissed off too many people, Mr. Rockford. Compound interest. It was only a matter of time before his insanity caused us the avalanche I would not be able to make go away.”


-24


                “Karmic Hound”,
      “I smell rotten protocols a mile away,
        and I will help you restore them.”

Do you recognize this card of yours, Mr. Kellspell? The card with which you invited me here? Let’s see how good of a hound you are. I am going to open the door of my mind palace now, but only for one second. You tell me what you smell.”

And for one second, both froze and there was deadly silence in the bedroom, but for  the birds outside.

Last year, the pines were covered in snow about this time.

This year, there is no winter on Strobulus. It is the perfect set many producers would die for. Lady Lion can order any weather she wants for this reality show.

-25

Then James spoke.

“This is what I smell. You are being burned alive by a passion. A deeply seated passion. It consumes your whole being. You learned to live with it, you put it in your work, and you put this passion into your art, but there is always way too much passion.

You are an artist. You can draw. But you are not letting me see the drawings. I want to see it. Your paintings.

Now, you are also a massive control freak. Like, big time.”

Mr. Rockford stood in the middle of the room with his eyes closed, like a granite statue.

-26

Jim’s statement went uncontested.

Kellspell took a breath, while I, again, focused on the sounds outside.

In the backyard, Mr. Milgram was trimming hedges.

“Craaack.... cri-i-ichhh...” The branches moaned under his shears.

“You experience tremendous amount of pain if someone in your family disregards what you say.”

James fell silent again.

“Scre-e-each... scra-a-ch...” The branches sang, twisted in Mr. Milgram’s mortal metal grip.

“You stand like a shadow over your wife’s shoulder making sure she does EXACTLY what you told her to do, and not a step without consulting you.”

-27

Rockford opened his eyes, and I saw how his pupils contracted and ran there and back, as if he was going through pages of the book that he alone could see.

I must admit, it is a shocking feeling when James tells you things you alone knew.

I watched him at my grave at Edgwarebury Cemetery in London.

He stood there, penetrating the book of life of a girl buried there, and he chuckled at her dreams.

Now Rockford was experiencing the same.

“Moreover, Mr. Rockford, if you notice that someone did something not EXACTLY like you asked them, you get the pain of the century, basically. And you can scream all you want, but it is not going away. You understand that it is not them, but you. Yet, you do not know what to do with this understanding.”

-28

Rockford said nothing, his face still a granite mask.

“And you are the youngest of nine children. That, by itself, is hell enough. At least from my perspective. It is a miracle that you managed to overcome your severe mental issues and actually succeeded in life.”

That was a borderline disrespectful way to put it. Cutting too deep, judging too much.

Another eternity passed before Rockford responded.

“I am a difficult patient, Mr. Kellspell.”

“I am used to difficult patients. Through God I heal his sheep.”

“Maybe you should let me go.”

“We signed our Covenant yesterday. And sex was good.”

-29


“So, what do you mean when you say “sex was good, Mr. Kellspell?”

“Remember I told you that Mr. Rockford was an artist? You know how I knew?

I had to come into his world as a woman. You remember the only condition of the Rockford Engagement.

And when I came on our first wedding night, he took me, and he drew me like a stick figure on a piece of paper. And I felt like I WAS THAT stick figure, glued to the paper, fully under his control.

“A stick figure? Is this all this artist capable of?” I already know the answer, but I’m just doing it for the sake of the audience.

-30

“Oh, but there is a reason as to why a talented artist like Mr. Rockford drew nothing but a stick figure.”

James makes a dramatic pause.

I know the answer. For i was that stick figure for Mr. Rockford so many times. We never had sex, it’s not that. But to him you are NOTHING BUT A STICK FIGURE. And he spends his whole life hiding his true nature and his dragon, and looking for ways to look normal.

But if you work with him long enough, that dragon sometimes comes out before Mr. Rockford can shove it back inside of himself.

And to that dragon you are nothing but a stick figure.

-31

“Yes, Wallace, a stick figure. At the end of the day it did not matter to Richard Rockford whether I was a male or a female. The stick figure which he was fucking was intentionally simplistic and genderless.

It’s not like Mr. Rockford could not draw a woman to put many other artists to shame. But sex to him - is all about control. And as long as I am under his control, and I let him pin me to them white sheets like a stick figure, I can keep my male genitals all day long. And the only time he wants me as a woman is when we are on public together. Easy-peasy! So, yes, my love, sex was good!”

James grabbed me by my hair and rubbed my head on both sides. In his mind he was still grabbing Hafnian’s ears. Those large hairy wolf ears.

-32

Jim took his teacher’s reassignment very hard. The only reason he is NOT rolling on the floor in crippling grief over losing his teacher, is because he knows that Hafnian is ok. He just wants his guys all to be ok.

Most of what he told me about Mr. Rockford I already knew. But, described by a psychic, the picture of my employer’s tortured mind became sharper, and therefore more chilling.

“So, how did you know he was an artist, if all he ever drew in front of you was a stick figure?”

“Oh, but I WAS that stick figure, Wallace. I also knew he was familiar with a pencil. It was in the way he thought for me to be, and to get positioned on the paper - and then he drew me in sharp motions of his pencil.”

-33

“What do you think he was telling you?”

 “He was telling me, Wallace...” James thought for a second, looking inside of himself, going through his records. “He was telling me: I will re-draw you any way I want.”

He was telling me “You belong to me.” And “You are the figment of my imagination, therefore, my property. I control you fully. Lay here. Like this. Do not move until I tell you to move. And then only move the way I instruct you to move. Quality thinking. The best stuff.”

Kellspell fell silent and gave me an intentionally unfocused stare.

“This man can put Edgar Allan Poe to shame! The well, the pendulum, and all that jazz I used to love - Mr. Rockford here can do it all over again and better. You wanted a scary movie? Now you are a stick figure in front of a sexual maniac, as handsome as Mr. Rockford. Ummm... Can’t get enough of the scene.”

-34

James Kellspell, you son of a bitch.

Not just an all-seeing one, but also all-accepting.

“He raped you in his fantasies, then?”

“No, he raped me in real time on our first wedding night. That is why he is here, Wallace! He wants to be a good man, but he has this deep, all-consuming passion for control. He wishes he was not burned by it, but he does not know how to get rid of it. I can help. I can be his victim until he is tired of killing and re-drawing me in his mind. He is worth taking him to the Pearly Gates. You, too.”

Wow! The unstoppable karmic detective keeps on unraveling the rope with which we are tied to “our” ego.

“You are my hero, James! I love you. I am your huge fan! I am burning for you. I want to get naked in front of you!” I said all in one breath.

-35

NOW I feel like Sheba. A doctor’s nurse. It’s all about the patients. But when will the doctor pay attention to his faithful, and long-awaiting nurse Wallace?

Here we go. I asked for it.

“Talking about burning and stuff. Please, note, that we need to check on Kyle at least once in 12 hours. I must write my teacher. It will make him feel better. Also, today that pain I experienced in my small back shot all the way to my right shoulder blade. This is what Sheba could not take - I was sick all last winter. It is always “what will happen to the project if James croaks?”

“Noted.” I say, duly ashamed and put back where I belong.

-36

When we are working, we are not going to get distracted.

But when are we NOT working?




“Yes, and the pain is in my right shoulder blade, my Prince. It hurts when I cough. I know fear is a non-existent protocol, but what if...”

Moretr is seven light years away on the outer orbit of Strobulus. The connection interrupts. James turns to me.

“Wallace, these Russians are going to say: Solzhenitsyn survived in Gulag, and your ass could not survive in Florida. You are a shame to us, they will say. But these Russians are not in my skin. All day today - pain in my back. Last year I hurt my back fucking four hot omegas. This year I lost my omegas and just hurt my back... Old age is kicking in, Wallace!”

-37

I console him as much as I can. I wanted a challenging role? Sheba’s role Chronicler/Comforter is as challenging as it gets.

“I do not want to drink this stinky garbage bin of fear and worry the dumb ego-program will offer. “What if it is cancer?” Who gives a shit. Now I’ve got life insurance. My mother is all set if I kick the bucket. And God help Michael (not our Dr. Michael, another gentleman) who put his reputation on the line to get me the life insurance with low rates.”

Sheba would say: Wallace, do not let James push you around like he did to me. You are sixty and he is forty six. And he is complaining to YOU?”

Well, I say, that I can’t live without you, James. I will do anything for you. Including let you cry in my shoulder. I will put on my best, softest shirt. And for a person of my education, this description of services is pretty flat. But right now James got me worried about him. Maybe we should make an appointment to a doctor?

And that is how it starts. All last winter his pains were phantom pains. Non-existent, psychotic. But TO HIM they were real.

-38


“... and you were saying that Mr. Guinness was making $5000 a month selling his poorly written books on Amazon, Mr. Kellspell.”

“Yeah. And I said: I’d agree to $2000 a month. I would not ask for more! I would work just for the joy of knowing that people like my books.”

I take off my reading glasses to get a good look at my charge. He is agitated, unhappy. I can adjust the bridgeplate to have sharper edges between colors, but putting on my glasses to read is just a habit. It sets James off.

“See! Old age!” He growls hoarsely.

Normally, he laughs at the notion of old age. But it is gaining moon, early morning, Jim’s female avatar is on her period, AND he injected himself with the Poison of Comparison.

-39

I was instructed to interview him on his most painful issues at different times, and these times are the hardest for my Jim.

Can I call him “my Jim”? I like him any way he comes. I could be his father, but I could also be his mother.

James is high on his most favorite poison, COMPARISON. It is disgusting, it hurts our Father.

But James was sent here to isolate the sequence of every single ego-poison. So, now he took it just for the purpose of the research.

As per James, the protocol of GRUDGE comes from the COMPARISON hub.

Jim is in tremendous amount of pain right now. But he said he could handle it. He said “Father, I can do this. I will not fall into the pit of self-pity, high on the drug of comparison, but I will bring you it’s protocols for You to free us all from it!

-40

And he is trying. How much I want to suck that poison out of him, and spit it out. Save him from what destroys so many of us.

I have taken so much of it myself. But I never blamed anyone. And I tried not to hate anyone. But I could, I could.

“How old were you when you first knew that you needed glasses?” James turns the table and starts asking me questions. He is a beta. Instinctively he senses my weakness, and he goes for a strike.

I have no choice but to lay down. I am an omega. It is my nature.

“Oh, about fifty, or so.”

It is going to hurt so much.

-41

Now. He raises his eyes and looks through the walls of my mind castle (yes, mine is a castle, not “palace”), directly at the timeline of my life.

He is about to know everything I did when I was fifty.

“Please spare me, spare our relationship, James, get out of there... please!”

He hesitates on the edge of my memories. Wanting to jump into the ocean of me.

When I fall to my knees and cry.

“Wallace! Fuck!” Jim tries to pick me up, but I get tense. “What did you do at fifty that I can’t see?”

I am crying, and  I am choking, maybe in self-defense, so that I do not have to answer his question.

-42

“Did you spend that year raping and pillaging, and realized that you needed glasses when you accidentally broke into your own house?”

Now the audience is laughing, while I am crying on my knees. This is James Kellspell for you. He loves comedy, even farce. His father told people jokes on his deathbed.

“What the fuck, man! I just wanted to see what were you reading at that time? Like, last winter I was fixing Sheba’s golden chain, when I could not see the links. They were bifurcating in my eyes! I was only fourty five! And I was like - what is going on?!

Wallace... jeez, get up. Will you listen? Will you stop sobbing? What happened, when you were fifty? I promise, I will never look into your mind castle again! But for the sake of the audience, you can’t keep them in perpetual suspense...

-43

Did you lose a loved one? Did you get sick? Did you do something you regret still? Because I know you as a good man. Even a better woman. While both of MY avatars have a checkered past, and, possibly a checkered future, yours are spotless. For the last time, Wallace, because I hate cheap cliffhangers, what happened when you were fifty?”

My life to him is a cheap cliffhanger. :)

“When I was fifty...” I took a deep breath, hating myself for the “cheap cliffhanger”. The reason I took a pause was because I could not talk. I was sobbing. “When I was fifty, I had a job.”

“U-huh.” Jim said.

He probably expected me to say “When I was fifty I was kidnapped by the aliens”, or, “When I was fifty I invented the Time Machine.” Or something like that.

-44

“And now that I’m sixty, nobody wants me anymore. Every employer I know has turned to drink from a stream of young blood.”

“Oh. Ok.”

“I know you are not heartless. You just have no idea what it means to be dropped by the world, because the world only and ever loves the young.”

“Well, Wallace, honey...” James kisses the bridge of my nose. Is what he used to do to Hafnian? “This is a pile of bullshit. You are burning yourself with a non-existent protocol. It is the EGO that loves the young. And the world does not exist.”


-45

“I did not see it because you would not let me!”

“You did not see it, because you were not paying attention, James.”





“It is very easy to fall into the grudge pattern. You can’t avoid it, because you do not know what you’re up against. And you are up against the ego-program that dictates you “to hold your own”. The Separation protocol.”

“Yes, Mr. Smith! Only love can outrun the “what is good for me” mentality. And I may be the “no good for you” guy...”

“Is this what Sheba used to say?”

-46

“Sheba will always be the beautiful woman I did not deserve.” James said somewhat defensively.

He’s been hearing the discussions in the Andromedan press, not all positive about his departed mate. There was talk that Sheba Of Salem “gave in to the “what is good for me” mentality, instead of following the postulates of love she was supposed to learn on the project.”

I dissuaded James from telling them “to fuck off”. What would the Queen of England do?” I tried to push him into the right avenue of thinking.

Do you blame yourself for losing your most hardworking mate Sheba because you were a pig and a savage? Start with moral inventory. Learn proper English. Pay attention to what your Arkchil Operator is telling you. Help me help you.

-47



“There is no room for fear, because I am drowning in love, and God will take care of everything.”


“So what do you think about Rockford?”

“Oh, fuck, this gangsta be cool! I dig the man!” James scratched his back against the open sliding door as he was smoking.

“Now, say that in British.”

“Ahem... Mr. Rockford is very attractive physically, and intellectually. I like him very much.”

“Thank you, James. Now why do you like him?”

-48

“He took me by force, that’s why.
You’ve got to respect that. AND you had to BE there when he said that IN FRONT OF Dr. Michael, Matushka, this really cool chick Kate....”

“James...”

“... this really beautiful woman Kate... And a few other people I will never forget.... Mr. Rockford looked at me and said: You will do. You conform to all my standards. Rejoice! I will take you as my wife.”

And I stood there, and I thought... If only it was “partner” instead of “wife”, I could be so yours, so yours.

For years afterwards, I regretted not entering the Rockford Engagement, Mr. Smith. I would jerk off to my memories of Richard Rockford, and I tried to bury all that.

-49

Why? Because the fucker was straight. A fatal mismatch. Other than that he was perfect, and an adept of the dark arts at that.

But then, almost two decades later, I did not see how his lean against me could harm Henry. And I never thought in my worst nightmares that Sheba would dig until she dug up the Rockford Engagement!”




Season 5
Chapter 124

-50


You should say THIS to the device
Before you listen to it’s dumb advice:

What date is it today, you stupid dictaphone? Silent? You don’t know? It is because you are not connected TO REALITY.

So, quit spitting out “advice” on how I should get hurt. It sounds like you are farting. Everyone hears that, and you look and sound very idiotic.

What was that, stupid machine? I should say mean things to hurt my husband because he hurt me?

You sound so moronic! Laughable! The reason he is mean to me is because YOU are MISINTERPRETING my behaviour to him.

He acts on rotten intel FROM YOU. And then you ADVISE ME to get back at him.

This is how my beloved man and I get hurt, while YOU sit there in the corner OUTSIDE of my hellish dream sequence, until you are triggered BY ME again to spit out the next pile of lies and poison.

Guess what, stupid machine. The wire that triggers you to give me ALWAYS WRONG advice meant to separate, and not unite - Father has unplugged THIS MORNING.

You no longer have any control of me.
What was that, stupid machine? I can’t hear anything you are mumbling.

Father has unplugged me from you. And He put a lid on you.

I am WITH HIM now FOREVER.
He will give me LOVE, HEALTH, WARMTH, LIGHT.

Something I could never have with the dumb robot.

It’s over!

The rule of the machine over my mind is OVER!






WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW



SEASON 5: SHEPHERD’S APPRENTICE


CHAPTER 123 (beginning at 119)
Arkchil Channel Operator: Wallace Smith

“I DO NOT WANT YOU FOR ONE NIGHT.
I WANT YOU FOR EVER.”


   “Do not ever doubt my feelings for you.”

       Richard Rockford to James Kellspell




“I will come for you.”
“When will you come for me?”
“When you are ready for me.”

This conversation was played on the large bridgeplate behind us.

This is when James saw me leaning to Rockford for Instructions.

“I thought you served Henry?!” James exclaimed, struggling to stay awake.


XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
“I serve both.” And I showed him my affiliation card. For those who are not in the know, my card would be crossed diagonally by a black line, one side is blue, and the other is red. More on that later.

“Samantha is a double agent!” Jim whispered and passed out.

“Sheba could have told you that.” I said, making sure his body lays comfortably. “But you never listened to her.”



“Tell me more. There is no need to be shy.” Rockford stands behind James on the chair in NOW OUR bedroom.

This time James is not handcuffed to that chair.

“So, Sheba had his crazy idea that Henry might have usurped his right to have me. I might have “other men in line”, she said. “I will find a way to save you legally.” She added. Bullshit, I said... Mr. Smith, how to say “bullshit” in British?”

“It’s “rubbish”, Mr. Kellspell.”

“Thank you, Mr. Smith. So, I said, rubbish, bitches. This ain’t happenin’. No one is going to take my Henry away. And I forgot all about it. But Sheba continued to dig...”

“What did she uncover, Mr. Kellspell?” Rockford knelt on the floor by Jim, took his hand, and kissed it.

James jerked, as if he was hit by electricity.

“Wow, Mr. Rockford... What an Alpha...” James stretched his neck to get a whiff of Rockford’s hair. “Yeah... And then one day she finally caught me, like, literally with my pants down, and it was during those events, when they fired David Reddington. She caught me with what she uncovered, even as her poor little heart was breaking over what she did to David.”

James falls silent, and I rub his shoulders for encouragement.

“But I was not mentally there at all, I was not listening to any news about our project.” He continued. “I was looking for my best pants to impress Henry, and he was outside, looking at his wrist watch, walking there and back, even as there was still 49 minutes until they sent for us. But you must know Henry, he is all there to create suspense. And he did... I was freaking out, I could not find the fitting pants, and...”

I whisper into Jim’s ear and he gives out an “ohhh!”

“I’m being told to wrap it up and answer the question. But I get carried away about Henry. I was so honored to have worked with him, you guys have no idea! Henry is totally cool. Hot body, good looks, yes, and intelligence... Oh, I get so hard just thinking about him...”

I’m prompted to get James back on track again.

“Yes, Mr. Smith, of course. So, anyway, I’m searching for the fitting pants, and Sheba comes with some papers, and she says “what was the condition on your Engagement with Richard Rockford?” I forgot all about it, so I was like, WHA-A-aa? My ENGAGEMENT with who now?! Mr. Smith, how to say “I was like whaaa” in British?”

“There is more than one way, but you could say “I was shaken to the core.” I pat him on the shoulder, encouraging his effort to use proper English.

“That works. So, I was totally shocked to my fucking core, as she went on with “Rockford is a qualified Alpha, James, blah blah... He can take you down like Mohammad Ali.”

We must work more on our proper English :)

“So, what did Sheba uncover after much digging in your Arkchil Record?” Mr. Rockford chuckles into Jim’s hand.

“Yeah, I was getting to that, Mr. Rockford.” James smiles and his eyes are filled with little sunny sparkles. “I turn around, I face my mate Sheba, and I say, erhm... I say, my friend, Rockford is a STRAIGHT Alpha. And that’s not “ketsat” for me, Sheba.”

“But WHAT did she uncover?” I insist on keeping him on track.

“Oh!” James scratches my stomach to calm me down. Then he gets up from the chair just enough to scratch me behind my ear to reward me. I am his new omega, and his last omega was a wolf.

“She uncovered that I WAS ENGAGED with an Alpha of VERY high standing. Fourteen years ago.” James made a dramatic pause for the audience. “This gentleman really liked me and cast a spell on me, basically, during one function that I attended with Dr. Michael and Matushka.”

I look down at Rockford.

“I did, I did!” Rockford gets up and spreads his hands. I lost my bride, I needed another, there comes this gorgeous...”

“Yeah, yeah! Mr. Rockford said all that to me.” James said that while looking into Rockford’s eyes. “I am not a stranger to casual sex. Spell or no spell, you are a powerhouse of an Alpha, a wealthy economist, brain, brawn, expensive suits, long black hair in a ponytail. You smell like three million dollars a year and you undressed me with your eyes. I mean, fuck, 50 Shades Of Gray. You know, I just thought, this is what a dog would have named it. Hafnian would have named his story like that. Because “gray” was all he saw after he DeVo’ed....”

“James.”

“Yes, Mr. Smith, thank you. My mind runs in circles... It runs fast, sorry. I can’t control my mind... I can’t control my moods... I said “Just do me.” And he said “No. I don’t want you for one night. I want you for ever. With this spell I engage you. But you can only become mine if you follow through with one condition: I want you in your female avatar.”

James fell silent, and Rockford nodded slowly, somewhat painfully. “There comes this gorgeous WOMAN. And I want to give her what I can, and what I believe she deserves. I name her my bride, but she is not ready to join me. And she does not see that I will never forget her, and I will never stop lusting after her.”

“Sheba found all this in my Arkchil Record, and she was pestering me with that.”

James made a dismissive gesture.

“i said - forget about it. First, I will never engage an Alpha against an omega. Henry would have no chance. And second, maybe all this is true, and see down inside I regretted a thousand times that I was a gay man, but I made my mind and I was not going to use my female avatar. It was that simple.”

James took a breath, and I offered him strong tea with a lot of sugar. Richard asked James to stop drinking altogether. James agreed.

Every now and then Rockford pours him a glass of wine in the evening. That’s about it.

“Thank you, Mr. Smith. But even if I just gave in to Rockford’s pressure, what do you expect me to do with the Covenant I ALREADY signed with Henry?!

Thirdly, but not lastly, seriously, people, get off my back about that, I said. I don’t care if Rockford built his own Stairway To Heaven, together with the highest grade Alphas my ass can only dream of, I will not consent to that condition, and you, Sheba, should know better than diggin’ in that old pile.

If there were any papers there that could harm Henry’s status, I would have already burned them, I told her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
I told that to her directly. That night at the Rubinstein Compound we had the unpleasant exchange of our lives, I admit. And I regret the stuff I said to her. For, not even two weeks later... My Sheba was right about Henry. And MY SHEBA WAS GONE.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
I said: please let this train run. Henry and I are not planning on stopping, all the way to the gallows. The Rockford Engagement is unenforceable, so drop it once and for all, girl, I said.

Two weeks later.... Only two weeks later...”
Jim breaks down, cries into his hands, most bitterly. Then, with cameras still rolling, he knows he needs to pull himself together.

“She finally figured out that Henry and I made this team airtight on purpose. So no other contender could get in. But, of course, all that was against the rules. It was only a matter of time before Sheba found a way to stop our insane fall into a complete rogue spin.”

“What happened between you and Rockford fourteen years ago?” I try to help James get focused again.

“As for Mr. Rockford,” James brightened up. “He, basically, engaged me on the spot, and I was very flattered. He said - I must have you! You are my bride! And I was like - you are my PERFECT Alpha! Where have you been this whole time?!

But his ONE condition was unacceptable. So, I cried over that, and I gave him an invitation to visit me. Just in case if he gives in first and removes his condition.”

“Is it true that you “forgot all about it”? Rockford whispers into Jim’s ear.

“Well...” Kellspell squirmed and laughed quietly. “Deep down inside I never forgot you. How could I? The way you just claimed me like that? This kind of courtship is the stuff of legend.

Your bold move was totally marvelous. But you wanted the impossible. At the time I considered this one condition to be an offense, trespassing on what I saw was my “property”.

You WERE my perfect Alpha, but you were straight. That is why I saw your engagement as toothless. That’s the level on which I forgot about it.

There was firm internal understanding that our prior engagement could never hurt my relationship with Henry Carlton.

Your move was bold, but it was not the only one.

I also had other engagements, Mr. Rockford. On this Earth I exchanged rings with many women. But that was in another lifetime, and these women will not claim me until we all are past the Pearly Gates.

So, those engagements were not a threat to Henry either. See, I’m trying to tell you that I was on the look out for stuff Sheba was doing, and I had to protect my vulnerable underbelly.

But last night my “vulnerable underbelly” was taken to the mental institution for his own good, and from there - to another project. And it will be a few hours before we both cool off enough to see each other again.

And you are here, ready to take me. The producers had to drop three of my mates for you to be here.”

This is where James bent over and grabbed himself right under his rib, on his right side.

“That is why I am, basically, begging you for mercy. I thought I left you behind, but you ran after me for fourteen years. Well, heck, Mr. Rockford, if you want me that much... I will be yours, but the condition is really breaking my balls. Literally.

And I am not in the position to bargain... You are, like, ten times my strength and twenty times my knowledge of the force.
But...” he grabbed his rib cage again. “Is there a way we can meet in the middle?

Because Henry gave me this awesome omega, and if you turn me into a girl, I will be just rubbing his butt with my knee. The point is....

(laughter in the audience)

“Oh, come on! Who is laughing? Fuck you, bitches. They think it’s funny! So, half-man, half-horse is ok, half-woman, half-fish is ok, too! But half-woman, half-man is funny?”

{the laughing now has a lot more voices in it, and they are all louder}.

Mr. Rockford is laughing, too. That alone tells James that Rockford suffered at least as much as he did.

I get back to working the channel. Sheba’s bridgeplate shows unbelievable amount of information. It actually gives me the “translation”, or a breakdown of what is going on inside of Jim’s head at any given time based on many, many parameters. But nobody taught her to use it, basically. One of the reasons she lost hope in the project - everyone was doing their thing, and she was left to her devices.

One of Sheba’s last records: “My moral compass is decomposing in the acidic, violent environment created by Lord Henry Carlton and Mr. James Kellspell.”

I could say “I can’t imagine what she’s been through”, but I can. I have been watching the show for a while before the immersion.

It’s still hard to imagine. When I came in the first time two months ago, there was blood on the walls in Jim and Sheba’s bedroom. Jim’s blood from all the beatings.

I wanted a challenging role in the show, and I got it. I am a double agent. I work both for Henry AND Mr. Rockford, God bless his most loving soul. He helped me out more than once out of tough financial situations.

All this is very embarrassing to admit.

They are going to say that Wallace Smith sold himself out on both sides.

But THEY don’t know me.

Ten minutes until our new episode is aired all across Andromeda. It starts with Jim’s interview to St. Merelion’s Broadcasting station of Mesmerix planet.

I am excited and I am terrified. But not James. He is not terrified at all. He can barely hold himself back. He is going to talk to his friends from Mesmerix, Lar-Mur Constellation, Kloritahan System.

Nine minutes.

I can’t be terrified. “Terrified” means “distrustful of God’s help”. I can’t exercise that protocol. James holds me high as an example of faithfulness.

He did say that BEFORE he learned that I was a double agent.

Eight minutes.

James talks to aliens every day.

But THIS is MY FIRST communication with another civilization.

My whole life just flashed in front of my mind’s eye. Everything that happened, and, finally, my perfect role. To serve my young Prophet. To unite with him, to prepare him for his role, and remain by his side forever.

Seven minutes.

I forgot my lines.

Six minutes.

I HAVE NO lines. I am Reg. Kellspell’s custodian, keeper, protector, and Personal Arkchil Operator. I took over from Sheba. I will never forget the price she paid for the peace on this project, and I will exercise caution at all times in the name of preserving this peace.

Five minutes.

James, looking at formerly Sheba’s, and now my bridgeplate: “Hey, you can spell “exercise” like a pro! No foreigner that I know can write this English word correctly!  You da man!”

Four minutes.

I am from Sydney, Australia. English is my native language. In addition to that I do hold a degree.

James is easy to please. If nothing else, I can always amuse him with proper English. He has faith that I can spell “exercise” correctly.

And that just “cracks me up” :).

Three minutes.

Our Prophet and the inventor of Ar-Snap is sweet, naive, and very gullible.

Two minutes.

He will be talking with Estelians {a breed of humans}, who run the show “With The Prophet”.

One minute.

We are live.

“Black Hexagon of St. Merelion Of Lar-Mur Broadcasting & Archives via Arkchil Network, Mesmerix planet, Kloritahan System, Lar-Mur, AF. Good afternoon, Project Emerald Filament.” A light Estelian voice says via more than one level-equalizer.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
 Why more than one level equalizer? First, they do not have vocal chords, and then every notion you ever had needs to be expanded and turned, and twisted to be understood. Like their weather, for example. Their weather is generated by a conscious gas called tetrahydrofuran. An abiogenetic entity. The gas is called “Ri-Fi” by the local Grehedis and their humans. Translate THAT into a human notion without a level equalizer.

“Dear Project Emerald Filament, we here are aware of your legal issues on MEOL, Magellanic Cloud 17, AF. Your official was removed on corruption charges. Far be it from us to read you a lecture. Is Regent Kellspell there?”

That was painful. This is where your sense of propriety should cause you a lot of shame.

“Thank you for not lecturing us.” Mr. Rockford says into the bridgeplate.

“Hey, you guys!” James is unstoppable, for he is innocent and unhinged. He has no sense of propriety, or any shame for that matter. Sheba was so right. I have an uphill battle with my charge.

“You need to be introduced by the host first, James.” Let’s not forget my function. My function is to be his teacher. I am here to teach him plenty of things, including manners.

“Yes, Mr. Smith!” He responds breathlessly. He is no longer interested in what his ego has to say. He is all into loyalty now. Ego does not teach you any loyalty but to itself. But God is a whole another matter.

“Regent James Kellspell.” Mr. Rockford finally says, after watching Lady Lion two tables away from us, giving him signs, while monitoring her own bridgeplate.

“St. Merellion Broadcasting! I miss news from Mesmerix so much!!! What is the weather like today?”

“85 mph winds down at the canyon and clouds of Ri-Fi gas around every Hexagon here on Ochawar Territories.” A lilting Estelian voice responded.

They can see us via Arkchil Network, but we cannot.

“Thank you for your unbelievable support, you guys! I can’t drop names, but Uri Kumlatov is totally happy with your care package!”

“James!” I interrupt him. “My goodness, some spy you are!”

“Oh!” James is now freaked out.

“It’s ok, sir.” The same lilting voice responds. “Everyone understands human limitations, that is why our channel is via Arkchil Network. We are protected. Thank you for your concern, sir.”

Right. They know that they are dealing with seven year olds. So they brought us to a padded room :).

“Anyway...” Jim darkens. “This LS month was just crazy. I lost three mates. Three of my omegas were taken off the set. I lost Hafnian, bless his hairy butt. Boy, am I going to miss his tobacco-smelling whiskers... Two weeks later I lost Sheba. I beat myself up so. I should have paid more attention to her instead of being so selfishly involved elsewhere. And three days ago...” He made a pause. “I lost Henry.”

“Personnel B Estelian, Sapphire Radman, please tell us more about Lord Henry Carlton. We are big fans here!”

“Oh, you guys! You are of the Radman bloodline! Very famous. Big fan of your owners’ show!”

“Thank you, sir. Four of my forefathers served the Radmans. Estelian Pride, sir. Happy and pleasing!”

“Happy and pleasing, yes! I will tell you all about Henry. But listen, this is scientifically important. I had a nightmare in which we missed my mother at the Pearly Gates, and she was flushed down and re-incarnated. So, she writes me from somewhere millions light years farther than Andromeda.

She writes: “Today at school we studied element 134 of the Periodic Table.”

I respond: “There are only 118 elements.”

My mother: “Here there are 357.”

This is where my heart fell, people!

My mother, meanwhile, continued: “Yesterday I got a message from this girl. Her civilization knows 403 elements, and these people are even in more pain and darkness than us.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
I woke up, and I was happy that it was only a dream, but my bridgeplate GLOWED RED! My friendly listeners of St. Merelion’s station!! Those on the cold outskirts of the Universe need the Relay of the Original Source!

It is upon us to start the chain reaction that will pull the Broken Vase together! Let’s slow down the expansion of the Universe!”

“Yes! Regent James Kellspell from Emerald Filament Team, everyone! Thank you for this amazing speech to lift up our darkening hearts!”



“Mr. Rockford, please take me. I will fulfill your one condition, and your Engagement can be enforced. I want to be yours. I have no one else to turn to. In less than a month I lost three out of four of my omegas, and Kyle is as good as dead, for he has been kept on horse tranquilizers since they took “his” Henry. Way to hunt, sir. Excellent patience. Fourteen years. But you’ve got me.”

“It would have been even more “excellent” if Lord Carlton had not used Prima Nocta on my bride. And the only reason he did it was because you gave him the keys to your beta-protocols.”

“You realize I had no idea you were coming? Mr. Rockford, I thought I had put your brave Engagement away when I refused to follow through on your one condition.”

“Then what happened?” Rockford advanced.

“Then I was mated to Lord Carlton’s messenger, that’s what “happened”. By Melekh himself. This link checks out as kosher, then. So, whatever happened, Mr. Rockford, it happened ON YOUR SIDE.”

Rockford is silent. He is looking through his cards. One of them, or both, will have to take responsibility for fourteen years of a delay.

James is secure in the knowledge that he has been following The Covenant ever since he surrendered. Every single one of his mates since then had been approved.

“I would not have given Henry anything, unless I was sure that he was “pre-selected” and our connection does not hurt anyone. And you were five hours late to that event. So, whatever kept you, Mr. Rockford, it was “your” ego’s business. And I’m not the one to lecture you on that.”

It is upon Rockford now to respond.

But he gets up and leaves the bedroom.

Plenty of things have happened on these premises.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
A lot of blood was shed. In fact, so much so this whole bedroom had to be scrapped, and a new illusion panel installed. This one encompasses the spiral staircase from the Michael apartment. The needle that pierced the festering wound to make everyone involved feel better.

So many things happened here. But for one. No one has ever walked out on James before.

They may have been reassigned.
They had to collapse to be taken out.
They may have been ordered out by the producers.

But they never walked out on James.

So, that left him speechless.

It was 6:20 am in the morning, too. Both James and Richard get up early.

“Wallace, how long have you worked for Richard Rockford?” James finally turns to me.

He knows he made a mistake, and he is trying to retrace his steps and analyze his path.

“I can’t tell you anything anymore, James. I opened up to you, and you cross-referenced me all the way to Samantha Wallace’s gravestone. Now you know everything about me.”

I wanted a challenging role. Yes, this is what I wanted. Kellspell is grilling the heck out of me. And I can’t give in.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
“No, Wallace, I do not know “everything” about you. All I know is you lived in London at the end of the 1800s, you dreamt to be a Queen of England and ride around in a horse-drawn carriage (what kind of a silly girly dream is that? I laughed my ass off at your grave!) You were a skinny redhead just out of your teens, and you killed yourself. Oh, and you were a virgin.”

Now, when he gutted you completely, and laughed at your helpless insides, YOU try working with James Kellspell.

But I wanted a challenging role. No whining now. How do I give him a hint?

“What is the right question, James?” I press on.

“Where is my Hafnian?”

“No.”

“How could I be such a selfish pig towards Sheba?”

“A good one, but no.”

“Will I ever see my Henry again?”

“You will, but still not the right question.”

“How is it possible that I have been through three men in five years and I lost all of them?”

“No.”

“How can it be that Rockford has enforced the Engagement, came over here, made me enter my female avatar, had sex with me in that avatar, but has not set a date for signing of the Covenant? And you want me to be calm, when I have been sitting by a revolving door of boyfriends?”

“I need you to be patient. And the right question is WHY Mr. Rockford walked out on you, and WHEN is he going to be back.”

“He walked out on me because I chased him into the corner?”

“Yes, James, and why?”

“Because he went after me for my liaison with Henry Carlton?”

“No. Mr. Rockford walked out because you lost your respect for him. You forgot who he is to you. He will be back when you get your memory back.”

“My memory?! Wallace, what is going on?”

“He came to enforce Rockford Engagement. You were happy to see him. You asked him if you guys could “meet in the middle” as far as the one condition of the Engagement. He said yes. You will be a woman for him, but you get to keep your dick, so you and I could be together, too. You got everything you wanted out of the deal, and sex was awesome.”

“Wallace...”

“Hold on, James. You gave me your side, I am giving you the truth. Rockford did everything you asked him to, but come one morning on a rising moon and you are mean to him.”

“He started it!”

“You were not supposed to use his comments as a spring board into a conflict! Your impatience and insecurity triggers your bipolar disorder which makes you unstable and inconsistent. And on top of that you “laughed your ass off” standing over a grave of a 23 year old, who killed herself.”

Kellspell is silent for a while, sitting on the bed, squeezing the blanket on which Wolf Hafnian slept. It is his “comfort blanket”.

It is his most valuable possession here. But he would give it to me, so I could “park” my body on it comfortably, while I’m out of it.

He’s got a heart of gold. He just needs to break every connection to the ego. He has four more hours until we reach the Pearly Gates.

“So, as I told everyone, Henry was right about me, then.” James sighed. “Mr. Rockford should come back and whip the living crap out of me, like Henry would.”

The bridgeplate showed his thought process that included “how did I allow myself to be so full of shit with Rockford?” And “Samantha is right, but how do I go back?”

Let’s replace “full of shit” with “prideful”, and he is good to go.

“Mr. Rockford said no more violence. You want to clean up this show? Then you watch yourself. As for your insecurities, he is going to marry you tomorrow.”

You should have seen Kellspell’s face.

“Yesss!!!” He cried out as much as his hoarse voice would allow. “Stability!”

With that, James jumped up and ran out after Mr. Rockford.

Whew. Adhere to the protocols, Sheba told me. Just follow the rules and make James follow them, too.

Now Mr. Rockford has new rules for us.



{To copy into pics}






WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

SHEPHERD’S APPRENTICE

CHAPTER 122 (File started at 119)



                Dog of God



“If he tasted you first, he would have never chosen me.”

    Lord Henry Carlton to Richard Rockford


“You can’t control him. You know it. Why you can’t control him? You lay down, that’s why. And you can’t play drums when you were born to play fiddle. He needs a real Alpha. And so do you. You created high turbulence. You lost a team member due to that high turbulence. Let me in, and I will bring stability.”

Richard Rockford to Lord Henry Carlton





“What is going on, Wallace? Where is Rockford?”

“Everything is ready, Henry. We brought in Mr. Rockford to be Jim’s Arkchil Channel Operator 2. He is here.”

“I guess it was only a matter of time before he caught up with me.”

“What? Henry, what are you talking about?”

“You darn well knew what you were doing, Wallace! You sneaked him in!”

“You knew what you were doing, Henry, when you sneaked ME in. You wanted me to help you control James. I have done so.”

“Fine. Enough of this. Mr. Rockford, the floor is yours.”

“Thank you, Lord Carlton. My name is Richard Rockford, and I am here via Regent James Kellspell’s personal invitation of {date removed due to censorship issues} yaseremshan pritemir.

That was fourteen years ago, yes. But his invitation for me to visit his house had no expiration date. Based on that, Mr. Kellspell has honored his invitation two hours ago. I also could be here via a “Demetra Visa” through Dr. Hugh Michael, if needed be. And I have a personal recommendation from you, Mr. Wallace Smith, because we worked together. This should be enough of a reason for me to be here.”

“Thank you, Mr. Rockford. Do you understand your duties as Regent Jim Kellspell’s Personal Arkchil Operator 2?”

“Yes, Mr. Smith.”

“Thank you, sir. Please, take your place by Mr. Kellspell’s right.”

The introduction went pretty civil. Mostly because Henry and I did our best to REMAIN civil for the sake of James.

“I’m going to need some of your help, Wallace. I know Sheba showed you around this device, this bridgeplate, and you know more than me.”

“Yes, Mr. Rockford. The narration can be initiated by running your finger across the right edge of this bridgeplate. It PICKS UP YOUR THOUGHTS. Think of what you want written. The text will run in the middle.

There is a poem-weaving app
that will keep on popping up.

See, it creates lyrics all by itself, out of your writings. Sheba found that annoying, and I have not had a chance to use it at all, but Jim finds it amusing.

Hold on, Jim is crying, because he misses Sheba. And for the love of God, Mr. Rockford, whatever you do, do not criticize Lord Carlton. James will not see it your way, and it will create a crevasse  between you. Sheba fell into that crevasse. Whatever you see, please remember that they are both of consenting age, and that should motivate you to stay calm and understanding.”

Calm and understanding. I MUST stay calm and understanding. I know it. I entered a very seismically active zone and I am not going to make it even worse, just because I have not learned to control myself.

James is also understanding. He does not know half of it, that is why he is calm and understanding. He does not know it yet, that I am his LONG-LOST ALPHA. And he was INTERCEPTED before I could reach him.

Regent James Kellspell:

“Here are all of my protocols, Mr. Rockford. I will take whatever steps necessary to make you comfortable in your role as my guide. I will not challenge you, I will not test you, for all this is of the ego, and I do not care to dance to “my” ego’s tune.

I will also not ask you if you have suffered more than me. NORMALLY I would. I have a problem with the chosen fat cats who got everything in life easy, while I was struggling so alone, so incredibly, for so long.

If only I had tutorship, as so many of you, I could have reached my potential. But I spent my life picking up stray sheep, because their desperate bleating was triggering my instinct. Somehow saving the stupid meant more to me than saving myself.

However, I have put all the regret behind me when I surrendered four years ago. I will never be alone again, and I will not be struggling any more. So, why bring it up.

I also understand that you were my long-lost Alpha. But stuff happened and Henry obtained me by fraud. Now I see why he would always try to butter up Sheba. Sheba was the perfect shield for Henry. She was aggressive, but clueless.

Well, she actually was not clueless. She always wondered why i got such an “unfitting partner”, as Henry. She barked up the right tree, but the badger was way higher than she thought.

I honestly did not even know THERE WAS a “badger”. Meaning “another partner”. I was happy with Henry. Tremendously stressed, but very happy.

You feel totally different than Henry. Henry and I were on a ship that was sinking during an earthquake. And, suddenly, the madness is over and we are standing on the solid ground of what is right and what is wrong, and that is your opinion, Mr. Rockford. We accept you as our long-awaited Alpha.

That being said, I have already signed the Covenant with Henry via Wolf Hafnian. I was mated to Wolf Hafnian by Melekh Shel Zahav Himself, one year after I surrendered. That link is kosher. The connection was made legit all the way up, and I am very happy with what it brought.

Even as Sheba had to pay a high price for staying faithful to me. She knew someone had to drop out to make room for you.

In other words if you want me, you must also take everyone I signed the Covenant with in these last fateful four hours.

All of this drama distracts us from our real goal: to put together the Key to the Pearly Gates. You have brought a large chunk of it. Thank you for that, let’s work to see how it fits.”

Wow. He is feisty, and full of energy, my long-lost beta. I must quickly get used to the fact that Jim is psychic, and he analyzes the incoming picture with that in mind.

He already knows what would have otherwise broken his heart. Not just Sheba alone, but another person is here to tell him that he was deceived by Lord Carlton.
The ability to hear from afar gives James precious time to adjust and regroup.

And so it begins. Season 5 of Kellspell Team Saga. I can talk all day about how long my road here was, and what I had to go through to get here.

And I will tell my story. You just wait.

I am going to let James talk first, though.

“See, I don’t know, Mr. Rockford. Maybe the reason we are in pain is because we are stupid, conceited and transgendered. This is protected, right? This rant is not for public use. Maybe, just MAYBE some straight person with an IQ just above mine and an attention span to match, could totally make it in life and not feel like St. Sebastian.”

He refers to the painting “Martyrdom of St. Sebastian” by II Sodoma, c. 1525.

“But it is too late for me. The transgendered is in charge of the stupid and the conceited. I am a beta. A beta is a shepherd’s dog. A shepherd’s dog hears bleating, and he runs into the bushes to find Hafnian, Henry, Sheba, Kyle Merritt, oh, and Mr. Smith, a man of many talents, but forever crippled by the same crap as me.

Surely, I’d take an arrow for them.

ALL OMEGAS. A shepherd’s dog is a hell of a job, but it has its moments. I have been in fuzzy omega Heaven ever since. Henry wanted me so much, he went across six lanes of traffic for me, basically. It’s a huge compliment that elevated my self-esteem to heights unbelievable.

But now the dog is stuck in the bushes, too. I can’t leave my sheep. Be they either too stupid, too conceited, and, to my surprise, sometimes “too transgendered” to find their own way Home.

Then, my Operator drops out, because I rode ‘er too hard. Leaving me on the floor, with a hole in my heart.

In the pandemonium that followed, my Wallace The Solace suggested you as my new Arkchil Channel Operator. Wallace swears by you, Mr. Rockford.

But Wallace is very soft-spoken. He never swears. He is always so hot for me. He wants to get naked with me! And he worships Henry just as much as me. He thinks Henry is the best thing since sliced bread, and he is here to train me to Henry’s liking! My omegas! My sweet Garden of Omegas!”

Wallace worships Henry, because Henry gave Wallace a job. It is really hard fo find a job at sixty years of age.

James gets distracted from our interview to nuzzle with Smith. Smith lets James kiss and caress him. Both are thinking of new ways of making Henry Carlton happy.

A short-circuit in the system.
Instead of that, we all should be making God happy.



I wake up because James sniffs my face. “My long-lost Alpha...” He whispers quietly, getting high on my scent. “Fourteen hours... Fourteen hours since I sent you my invitation... I waited for you for fourteen hours. Worth every minute!”

I lay with my eyes closed, but it is no use. James can sense the difference between a sleeping and an a waking mind. He knows I woke up.

“Good morning, my Duke Of Albury...” He mumbles into my ear.

Wallace wakes up to the left of Jim, where Hafnian used to sleep. “Who is Duke of Albury?” His morning voice is broken and hoarse.

“Oh, Wallace....” James can’t help but react to his new omega. Wallace IS his solace after Jim lost two of his mates in one week.

But here on the Strobulus the news are always good.

“So cute, Samantha, so cute!” James sniffs and kisses Smith’s face and then buries his nose in Smith’s thick chest hair, making deep-throated satisfied and happy noises.

Smith lays there passively, and a tear runs out of his tightly closed eye, giving out one bright spark in the morning light before getting soaked into the pillow.

Wallace can’t believe he reached his destined beta. He surrendered to James three days ago on Valentine’s Day. They are an item forever.

I get up, get dressed, and start working Sheba’s bridgeplate.

So, Henry Carlton stole my bride Marishka, using her own beta-protocols to subdue her. So, I found my bride raped and ravaged by the time I caught up with the thief.

But here on the Strobulus, only four hours away from the Pearly Gates, the news are only and ever good.

My bride survived, prospered, and managed to hold on to all the lost suckers that hurt her. “Jesus needs ALL souls.”

Carlton is a an omega. And a godless omega at that. He will never find his way Home without James.

God needs ALL souls.
James is a faithful shepherd’s dog of God.

I must not make Sheba’s mistake. I am to unite with Lord Carlton and become one with him. I bend my pride, everyone who is with me will get through the Pearly Gates.

I make Sheba’s mistake and start fighting with Henry, and it is going to devastate James, and reduce my followers’ chances of being saved.

I do want to beat Carlton bloody, just so that you know, and for the record.

I will only say it once to get it out of my system. For we will have no more violence. 

Wallace Smith did everything he could to revive the subject of the “Lost Alpha” with James.

Sheba Of Salem sacrificed herself so that I could get onboard of the most air-tight group ever.

All that to stop the violence and bring peace and stability into the Emerald Filament Team.

I am going to draft my Covenant with Henry Carlton, and I will take him.

If I want to be a true leader of this team, I have to accept the man who ravaged my bride.

If you want to have your bride,
Then abandon all your pride.

Here is the poem-weaving app kicking in. How cute is that?

James is watching me doing this record on Sheba’s bridgeplate, while still in bed. He misses Sheba, but now he knows that a lot of sacrifices had to be made for me to come in.

Thanks to that, now he has his long-awaited Alpha.

There is a few books’ worth on what happened to me during these last 14 hours. There will be time for that.

It is not the time to reminisce.

It is not time to fight.

Now is the time to love.








WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

“HERE COMES MY MARTYRDOM!”


CHAPTER 121 (this file started at 119)

              The Vessel Of Humility
    And what it means to an omega

                Or

          The Night The Earthquake
                Shook The City


“Love dies when you start defending your boundaries.”
                Wallace Smith to Jim Kellspell

“Wallace, you are my solace!”
                Jim Kellspell to Wallace Smith


Here are some pieces I picked up as I was looking through miles of tape, basically. Hours of footage and audio recording from all of our channels. Enough to drive you up the wall. I had to do THAT while MY David was in OUR newly illusion-paneled ROOM, drinking BY HIMSELF.

“I was chosen by my employer to teach you what humility is, James.” Wallace said that YESTERDAY.

“You owe me, Samantha! Here, train him for me!” And THIS I lifted from Lord Carlton’s channel (legally, via James).

THIS was the last thing I looked at before I decided to go to the cafeteria, because I got hungry, but Jim and Wallace were involved in their own thing.

Jim was regressing Wallace into his childhood epilepsy attacks.

OF ALL THINGS I’d ever want to be regressed into...

“You owe me, Samantha.” THIS PIECE OF INTEL, mentioning “Samantha”, was worth its weight in gold, but I was too hungry to dig further.

I wanted to know who “Samantha” was, and who was it that Carlton wanted her to train, but then my thoughts switched to David, and I just wanted everything to disappear, so that there would be no obstacles between ME AND DAVID.

I longed to be in his embrace, to share my day with HIM. I tried to forget him for years, and now that he was within my reach, I just wanted to have my St. Valentine. My unexpected gift.

But I needed to be back to work.

I went to the cafeteria, there was no schnitzel, so I got turkey sandwiches. The favorite of Hafnian.

Out of momentum I continue to get stuff Hafnian liked, even as he is no longer here. We shared everything, and please do not order the fruit salad Jim’s teacher would not eat... Live as one organism, eat as one organism.

I was gone for twenty minutes.

On the way back I was met by Dr. Michael, who said that Matushka wanted a spiral staircase, a lobby, and some plants downstairs.

What? There is no room for any of that downstairs!

Not so, says Andromedan technology.

Dr. Michael contacted the office of Prince Moretr, and they took out our common room (nobody was using it anyway), but also our entire southern bedroom wall to create the “downstairs lobby” for Matushka.

So, he APOLOGIZED for that and suggested I ask Jim and Wallace if they were planning anything for dinner with Henry.

With that, I walked in on a scene of my life.

And I’m not talking about the missing bedroom wall.

She was so petite, that I did not even notice her right away.

“Hey, Jim, are you in the crapper? I am here to ask you what you and Wallace want for dinner. Dr. Michael’s and Lord Sedgefield’s families agreed on a pizza and salad. Mr. Milgram is drunk and is not opening the door. I myself just got me sandwiches, because I’ve been working for seven hours straight, and nobody here gives a shit about me... Who is this naked woman on your bed?! Jim?”

“Oh, Sheba, hi!” James got out of the bathroom, fixing his pants, and then addressing the woman on his bed.

“Is this ok? Do I look ok?”

The woman nodded.

She was wearing nothing but lacy black bra and same underwear, with Jim’s dressing gown around her shoulders. She was shaking, but would not wrap the dressing gown around herself.

“James? Where is Wallace? Who is this woman?”

James did not respond, his face reflecting a desire to protect his guest. His eyes kept on darting at her, then at me.

And back at HER, as soon as she moved her shoulders slightly, and her face, sad and pale, got even sadder.

Jim’s glance froze on her slumped, but lovely silhouette.

“This is a secured area, Mr. Kellspell.” I pressed on. “You are the first one making sure no one gets in, you make our prospective partners submit applications, while you just bring in anyone you want?Does Henry know you are fucking a WOMAN?”

“Yeah, about the woman.” Jim kind of UNFROZE.

I was dying to hear THAT story. The woman was young, just out of her twenties, with short wavy hair, barefoot and emaciated.

A naked woman IN JIM’S BED! I really needed to hear that one! Did he decide he had enough of Henry so much so he just “switched” his sexual orientation? Or did she follow him from the street?

This is where I noticed something that shocked me even more.

Forget the spiral staircase descending into our BEDROOM!
Forget a woman in a gay man’s bed!

There is not going to be the end to this tonight, is there?

“Oh my God!” I ran up to what looked like DEAD WALLACE SMITH!

His body was lifeless, slumped against the entrance to Henry’s Royal Chamber, partially concealed by the curtains. That is why I did not see him right away.

His shirt was crumpled, his receding hair was disheveled, and every wrinkle around his eyes was soaked in tears.

Did these two kill Henry’s man, because he walked in on them? Did he cry and beg for mercy before they killed him?!

Oh, I know! A chilling thought crossed my mind. Jim had a reason to kill Wallace Smith. He believes his boyfriend left him for Smith seventeen years ago.

There was no blood, or wounds that I could see on Smith’s body.

But Jim is a chemist with criminal proclivities. He told us all kinds of stories on how he could poison anyone he wanted by plants growing freely in the woods and fields of Northern Hemisphere.

A certain crystal alkaloid you could easily find in the nature around you, would cause you fatal arrhythmia, he said, untraceable during an autopsy, and toxicology would come back empty, for no one would ever test your blood for “mezakonitine”. The death would be ruled as “natural causes”, or “undetermined” he’d add.

The man is capable of narrating some terrifying stuff.

He fucks your brain, and you stay fucked.

Burned by these thoughts I finally put down my sandwiches and went for an attack.

“Twenty minutes I was gone, Jim! Twenty minutes! During that time Dr. Michael’s wife decided to have a massive renovation that took out half of OUR BEDROOM, and you offed Henry’s man so you could spend your St. Valentine WITH A WOMAN!”

But Jim did not respond.

Many more unpleasant scenarios blasted through my mind. There is literally a thousand of untraceable ways by which a chemist can kill you.

Henry sure knows how to pick the most efficient people for his “legion”. My head was swarming with dark thoughts, as I was waiting for Jim’s answer, and watching Smith’s face for signs of life.

Suddenly I had a genius idea of checking the man’s pulse. Maybe they just got him drunk... What will I find out? What if he is REALLY dead?! Jesus Christ!

But before I could do that...

“Henryjames! I am coming down this newly installed spiral staircase to ask what you want on your pizza? I sent Sheba, but she never got back to me with the answer! Matushka wants pepperoni and mushrooms, but the Sedgefields want pineapple!”

Mushrooms. More mushrooms! For all of us.

What am I doing with a stiff in my bedroom?! My life got from “very painful” to “crazy insane” in twenty minutes! And now people want to know what I want on my pizza. Answers, I want answers!

Michael’s voice jerked Jim into action.

“Get back in the body, Samantha!” James ordered the woman in a panicked voice, watching the staircase intently.

SAMANTHA?! Wait, where did I hear that name?

“No...” The woman whispered, still shaking.

“Dr. Michael knows you professionally! You do not want to come out at sixty years old with a straight family and two children!!!”

What? Who is coming out?

Then Kellspell turned to me, fear in his eyes.

“Sheba! Stop Dr. Michael! Tell him we want pizza with marinated genitals of a mayfly. Distract him! Keep him away!!”

“Got it!”

I had to do it. Whatever happened to Wallace, we have a medical team here. Whoever this girl is, we can resolve this in private. We do not have to make a public scene on the eve of St. Valentine’s Day!

There was no time to analyze anything. I had to save my James. James, who had done so much for me, and all I ever did was spit in his face and leave him for David Reddington.

Life is unpredictable!

On my way from the cafeteria I was thinking of how to tell Jim that I want David to be my St. Valentine, and that I want a honeymoon with David. Now THIS HAPPENED, and instead of planning my honeymoon, I have to deal with a lifeless body, a naked woman, and a hungry Dr. Michael!

I ran up the long spiral stairway that was just installed from Dr. Michael’s spacious apartment and down to our floor.

A naked woman in Jim’s bed. Wow.

This confusing time MAY JUST BE the best time to tell Jim this: I know that your teacher did not take a vacation in three years with you. I was at it for only a year and four months. I am not as strong as your teacher, I am not entitled to a vacation, but I need a break! And, by the way, good news! A woman in your bed will dispel all the suspicions that you might have homosexual agenda!

Wait.. What was I supposed to tell Dr. Michael? Darn my DeVo’ing attention span.

Ok, let’s go for the obvious.
Obviously, he reads my channel.

“Henryjames”? What is this new thing, Dr. Michael?”

With all my contemplations I was a tad too late. I met him right where you could already see our bedroom through the stairs. Oh, we will have to fix that construction blunder!

“Well, internet has Brangelina, why can’t we have Henryjames?” Dr. Michael responded in a cheerful voice.

“You’ve been reading my channel, then.” I approached Michael very close, not letting him go a step further.

See, if I can distract him.

“Yes, Sheba, I have. I also am not stupid. Stairs or not, your bedroom can be seen through the windows of my living room! Who are you and James hiding downstairs  when Henry is out?”

The weirdest show ever, that is what we are hiding there.

And failing at that, too.

Jim’s loud hoarse voice coming from our bedroom could be heard for a mile:

“ ...born in the wrong body...” SO WHAT? You are still being paid to be my teacher! Do you know what Henry will do to us both for this unauthorized performance?!! When you are done with your little “out of body” rebellion, Samantha, you will have to teach me how to say “Holy shit”, “Fuck it”, and “I don’t give a crap.” in proper British! Right now it is all three! GET THE FUCK UP!”



Late at night after the dinner (Henry never showed up, called Wallace and ordered him to tell everyone that he is “giving an interview”.)

All interview scheduling goes through my bridgeplate. No interviews were scheduled for today. Henry was not on the project at large, either. If only Lady Lion assigned him somewhere else. Other than that...

Other than that he was lying. TO ME, to HIS MATES, and to James.

James somehow thrives in the acidic environment of ultimate control through violence and lies that Lord Carlton is so good at establishing. Jim can’t get enough of it!

I tried to show James the REAL Lord Carlton, and that did not work. I do not know how much more I can take.

After pepperoni pizza for dinner (we got invited to have dinner with the “fat cats” upstairs :) both me and Wallace are now leaning over James, who is on the bed, holding on to his right side.

It never ends! The fun never ends!

“Right here...” He moans. “Under my rib cage.”

I point to the spot just above his stomach, for the Arkchil Record.

“Needles... Needles piercing me there... Ow!”

Samantha got back into her body (we now need a place where we could store her male body while she is home with us), because there was obviously too much attention.

Hafnian was BORN on MEOL for his new assignment. He is preparing the ground for us, no matter what the Parliament has to say about our corrupt ways.

Jim is in bed, in pain.

Again, like last winter? Is this what is going to happen?! I’m going to be on my knees by his bed for months on end, all by myself, while everyone else is busy with their own happy lives!

Henry is nowhere to be found.

But he will be back to torment James. It is his drug.
James enjoys being Henry’s drug.
He lives to be Henry’s punching bag. 
He applies science to Henry’s every idea.

But I am the one who ends up sleeping with a bleeding and a moaning mate. I AM THE ONE who watches the man handcuffed to a chair for ten hours, peeing in his pants.

Here is what our schedule for tomorrow looks like:

     James Kellspell & Wallace Smith
                Wedding Day

1. Reception
2. Kerfuffle
3. Lunch
4. Pandemonium

The rest of the day:

1. Dr. Michael ordering us all pizza;
2. Henryjames Amalgamated plotting new criminal activity to make money, Wallace Smith only being their next unwitting (or willing?) victim/tool.


My family on the eve of St. Valentine’s Day.

I am so burned out.

And Jim does not have a single free minute to even consider my request for a vacation.



Right before the official record begins, Jim’s voice through static:
“Jesus help us! 6:54 pm. Henry WILL rip up Reddington’s contract if they are even one minute late!!”

Break.

{“5 Minutes To Revelation” Representative: We were unable to determine how much time had passed between these two records}

“Ahem... On air. This is Regent Kellspell. Of all the times Sheba called the emergency ON ME!

I had to call the emergency on my faithful Arkchil Channel Personal Recorder Sheba Of Salem.

So, we crash-landed for the next 20 hours, then. There was nobody to record.

I take full responsibility for the depleted mental state in which Sheba was when the Arkabins took her away.

The last few days were very stressful for all of us. The rising moon, oh.

After Sheba and David escaped, and were dragged back by Henry, Reddington said that he only came back because Henry threatened to take back their deal (take protections away from Reddington’s family).

Reddington said that he Sheba told him stuff about both James Kellspell and Lord Carlton while they were in the car, basically driving away from the compound. Based on what he heard, Reddington said he was going to walk off the set himself, if Sheba’s request for a hiatus of any kind is not considered.

And that was ignored by Henry.
The next day Reddington got a hold of Mr. Rubinstein to see how he can get off the Strobulus.

While this was happening, Sheba was forced to continue working in the regular mode. My sweet exotic girl lasted for only two more days with her recording duties AND babysitting me.

Today she was taken off the set. She collapsed. She is in a psych ward right now. She may come back to work with minimal duties.

Or Henry might have to bring in Kyle. If Kyle wants to make extra money for his mother.

Fuck... It is my fault. Henry is unstoppable, and shame is not a retardant to him, but I will have to look Reddington in the eye.



We had a kerfuffle,

in which Henry gave us all what for, and he enforced his Covenant on Sheba, making her come back from the vacation she took without permission. It was not pretty.

I told him she was going non-stop for sixteen months, feeling overworked and neglected. Obviously, this only made Henry scream louder and beat her harder.

Both Henry and I are depleted in the “compassion department”.

Sheba sensed it. After a year’s worth of trying to break me away from Henry, she concluded that we both are incorrigible, and she does not belong.

She thought she belonged with David Reddington.

David Reddington is hot, yes, but HE IS NOT YOURS.

She was with him in her mind this whole time. Huge portraits of Reddington in a suit, in his government office, by this charter plane, or what - all the walls in her mind palace are dedicated to David Reddington.

Jeez, God is the witness, I don’t have time for this!

But, ok... She would not let me in, so I could not tell her - where do you get off falling for a STRAIGHT GUY, and a FAITHFUL FAMILY MAN at that? What is your fucking problem, Sheba?

But then I did not know she was a woman. I thought “Samuel” was a gay man. But “Samuel” told me to stay away from his mind palace.

I entered anyway, but only to the hall. I did not touch any Sigils, so never found out that she was a woman until she showed up in a wedding dress behind me in the middle of an interview, or something.

I was like, was this performance announced? How about “approved”? But I had to humor her, I was determined to make her happy.

So, we took pics together. Henry arranged for it, as far as I know. He wanted to make her happy, too.

She WANTED to be in love with me. She truly TRIED to forget David Reddington. She DID KNOW, or should have known, that OUR KIND MUST STAY AWAY FROM THE STRAIGHT PEOPLE. It’s nothing but heartbreak.

But, over time, Sheba felt forced to see me as a criminal, worth the poor treatment Henry was giving me.

Then she saw an opportunity to bring in Reddington, when we needed a mediator with the MEOL Parliament, and all that jazz. I was not involved in it.

Prince Moretr and Lady Lion were looking for possible sets on territories where Leot’s secret police had no jurisdiction.


XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

This MEOL Planet had come up, um... and Moretr swooped down on the purchase. But the Cassiopeians said that since it was their protectorate, they will censor the show to protect the local population. Or something within the lines.

The Cat told me all that. He did not give a shit, just saw it on Leot-controlled newschannels. And... I don’t care about it either, make a long story short, MEOL’s Parliament wanted censorship, because the were upset that the rogue reality show would bring Leot’s attention. Ok, fine, we still want the deal, the audience is large. If Lady Lion can get to the Andromedan audience... That’s incredible amounts of money. But how much censorship? So Moretr and Lady Lion had to bring in a skilled negotiator.

Seeing a break, breathlessly, Sheba, using the voice of the Prophet’s Second Mate, suggested Reddington to Lady Lion, and he was onboard, this easy.

Now Reddington was ON THE PROJECT, but still, Sheba was worlds away from him. For even as they now were working in the same building (here, in this compound), he was still a straight family man.

All this was happening, as I was working on everything Kumlatov would throw at me, corresponding with the MEOL cat to see the politics from the inside, and trying to please Henry in bed. And at large.

Sheba would pout for days, I’m telling you. I KNEW it was because of Reddington. But she would not bring it up with me, only bark at Henry, until it was too late.

Until Henry had had enough of her opposition and demanded to know her price for shutting up.

Her price was her most well-kept secret, David Reddington.

This is where {or two months ago?!} Henry received intel that Krotkie would be taken, and he tried to sneak in his man. AND get Reddington paid off.

Reddington gets fired for taking a bribe.

Sheba freaks out, loses hope, and wants to steal Reddington from the world, and talks him into running away together.

“You work for me, your family is protected.
You do not work for me, I can’t help you. I sincerely hope that you can make it back by 7 pm tonight, or face the consequences.”

This is what Henry texted Reddington while I cried that Sheba left me for another man.

Reddington brought Sheba back.

All that broke her already unstable heart.

All this could have been avoided had she not kept secrets from me. I will still know, people! May this be a lesson to all of us. No secrets. WE ARE ONE!

I really have no time for this right now.

Kumlatov is on the line dictating me WINTER MEMORANDUM ADDENDUM I, Henry is on the other line demanding excellence from me, and adherence from Sheba, Kyle had kittens just trying to be my Arkchil Operator for two hours, and we still have seventeen hours left until the next connecting point.

AND, with a skeleton crew, I had to take over recording of MY OWN INTERVIEW!

To our viewers: Please stay with us during this difficult rising moon.

Our new home will be soon at: MEOL, Magellanic Cloud 17, Andromeda Federation.

As the connection cuts out, Reg. Kellspell’s voice could be still heard: “Wallace, you wanted a job? I lost my first officer, and both engines. You are going to have to become all three for me...”


@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

Here is this interview we had to record just between the two of us, because Henry needed it.

“What are you afraid of the most?” Wallace goes through the list of questions Henry gave him to ask me {Reg. J. Kellspell}

“Checkpoints.” I respond, and chuckle. “I was going to say “cuddle fish”, but it would crack everyone up.”

“Let’s stay serious.” Wallace nods. “Why checkpoints?”

“I used to smuggle so much illegal stuff. Drugs, plants, cultures... I spent so much time worrying that I’d get caught that now I freak out every time an attendant asks me for my ticket at the museum! I am terrified I’ll get frisked, they would find drugs, and I would get arrested.”

“Interesting. There is a whole chapter here on illegal activities. Any more activities connected to smuggling?”

“I used to forge state certificates for these pills for a client of mine, and she’d use them to smuggle hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of illegal weight loss pills from Philippines into Russia. She would cut me 10% of proceeds off every shipment, and I was in the money like pig in shit. But that was in the 90s.”

“What other illegal activities were you involved in?”

“I used to be involved in industrial espionage on behalf of the United States. I worked for Morris T. My American handlers used me to smuggle documents out of Roskom-dragnet building. It was a multimillion dollar operation. I did not get paid very much for it, but I served the Americans. And not just the Americans. The JEWS! So I felt that I made a politically correct move, I was on the right side of history, and I was very proud of myself for that.”

“What else?”

“I used to run a whore house in Moscow for foreigners. Please do not tell Sheba. She has already had a nervous breakdown because of the massive compromat on me that keeps on emerging. Apparently I am not the man she imagined the prophet to be. Mr. August had to show up at the wrong time, too... I am taking her disappointment very hard...”

“What is your first memory?” Wallace continues relentlessly with his list.

He wants to be the best for Henry, but he is worried about his age. I see. I must remind him of Serena. Whatever pills she takes against old age, they work.

“Cracks in the pavement by our house after the earthquake in March of 1977.”

“How old were you, for the record?”

“I was three. The day before, March 3, it was sunny, and my mother was walking me on the pedestrian path right under the windows of our 6 storey apartment building. I would always stare under my feet during walks.

IIt was hard to deal with the female body, and I did not care for people to say over an over again “oh, what a cute girl!” Well, fuck you, I was not a girl. So, I’d stare down all the time. Pavement is all you see down there. And I saw that it was smooth, no cracks or anything.

That night the earthquake shook the city. People were running out of their houses, calling their relatives. It was pandemonium.

But I do not remember any of that. However, THE NEXT DAY that black asphalt pavement I would always stare into right under the windows of our apartment - it had a finger-thick crack across it. Ants would crawl in and out of it. And I stood there, watched the ants, and thought: fuck, that was a strong one. Is my aunt Zoya allright?”

“Where did you earn your degree in linguistics?”

“Oh, i do not hold a degree in linguistics.”

“Where did you earn your degree in chemistry?”

“I received no higher education whatsoever.”

Silence. Wallace is writing stuff down on a piece of paper. I mean, instead of the computer. I love it. Retro. But he looks and acts tired.

“Wallace?”

He just sits there, with his head down.

I come and hug him. Take the papers and the pen out of his hands.

“Wallace, let’s finish this later.”

“Sheba is not the only one who has needs, James!”

“True.” I nod. Wallace is so sweet. He is steeped in the trauma of being stuck in the wrong body, he smells like a thousand years of suffering, and it is inebriating to me.

“I experience a deep need to be naked in bed with you, but instead I must do what Henry told me to do.”

“This interview’s deadline is at the end of the month.”

“Then may I please take off my clothes?”

“Yes, Wallace. We are now officially Covenant-bound. Which means that I can fuck you every day!”





WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

HERE COMES MY MARTYRDOM
CHAPTER 120

You are in pain,
Because, drunk in your cell
You think you hit others,
But you hit yourself....




“Gentlemen! I am helping my ex’s kid with English homework.” Jim is in the backyard on the phone plugged into his bridgeplate. “English is not my native language. What does “abseil” mean? Sheba?”

“English is my native language, I don’t know.”

“Mr. Reddington?”

“English IS my native language, and what’s that word again?”

“Abseil”

“No idea.”

“It means descending down a vertical rock, using two ropes.”

“I did not ask you, Mr. Smith. H.M. does not know, Kyle does not know, Sheba does not know, MR REDDINGTON does not know, and you do!” Jim turned to Wallace, who now took his place as Regent Kellspell’s new teacher, by Jim’s left hand.

Wolf Hafnian was sent to MEOL on a new assignment!! I found out yesterday.

Kellspell does not know it yet, but he will not see his beloved teacher for a while.

Maybe he DOES know, and that is why he gives hell to his NEW teacher.

Jim is such a bipolar motherfucker, jeez.

Come to think of it, I suffered so much from him in the last year and four months.

“How the fuck do you know what a word means when I asked five guys and Lady Anne! Reddington surpasses us all in intelligence and class, Lady Anne’s IQ is through the roof, and these fancy bitches didn’t know and yourass does?”

And he slapped Smith.

Wallace staggered back and held his right hand to his lips.

“James! Fuck! What the fuck, Mr. Kellspell!!”

I rushed out of the bedroom and into the back yard, where Jim was on the phone with the little girl, his ex’s daughter/ Level 1, needing help in English homework, when he hit his new teacher, Mr. Wallace Smith, and lost contact with Level 1.

“I can handle it!” Smith assured me with a miserable half-smile as Jim caught up with him and pushed him into the hedge.

“You hit him one more time, James, and I’m walking off the set!”

What is going on with us? Since Hafnian was taken to be reborn on MEOL (deep cover, emergency situation. They had to do it after the Parliament fired our man David Reddington), Jim was not himself.

Yesterday he... heck, how am I witnessing all this violence, why are we so entangled in it? Yesterday Jim raped this elderly man, Mr. Smith, in front of me, and Henry.

I shudder just thinking about it! I told David, I needed his advice on how to process all this, and he told me that I must not judge right away. I must give it time.

But I know he was appalled. It’s not normal. What’s been happening, it’s not right.

And I DID give it time!!! For over a year I slept with a violent sexual offender!

Did it feel normal?

Well, ok, no. It never felt normal, not with James, but I knew all along he was like that.

That’s why Carlton felt normal to him. They are both fucked in the head. Victims of their twisted mentality? Persistent insanity? Unfortunate upbringing? How much time does it take to figure THAT out?

“Sheba, please get back to the main topic.”


OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
David’s voice in my head! I gave him access to my personal Arkchil channel, and I asked him to watch everything I do to help me through my psychological issues. He said his wife had similar issues. So we might have the whole subscription between me and her. Ahem. Old joke.

“Sheba, please get back to the main topic. What was reason Mr. Smith knew the meaning of the word “abseil”?”

Yes, David!

Anyway. I must spill my guts to my personal channel before I burst. “I got paid five million dollars to be anything you want.” David answered me, then.

And I was like, five million dollars? I thought it was ten. And he was like, yes, ten altogether. But only five was for you. The other five was for me to look the other way and distract the Parliament when Lord Carlton sneaked in his underling before the new teacher was to be chosen for James.

And I was like - oh, heck no! Is that what happened?! Because when decided HOW to bring in David (stage the loud encounter in the hall to be spilled into Jim’s bedroom, where he had to deal with all of us), for the Arkchil Record.
But when we planned it, there was no man with Carlton.

When Carlton showed up with Smith - that was a surprise to me. Hence, the second five mil was for Reddington to keep his mouth shut that Carlton brought another Brit with him.

Jim smelled that omega, and he fell for that omega, once he smelled him. A needy, elderly omega is a perfect partner for a beta like Jim. This is what David told me later. This is what Carlton was going for.

Carlton tried to get Jim to accept his underling before - but Kellspell rejected Smith’s application.

Then Carlton asked me, what would it take for you to shut up, and I said “Reddington”.

Carlton went to Reddington and said - five mil for you to fuck that drag queen.

That was captured and divulged.

Reddington steps down.

On his birthday.

Our producers freak out, that they lost their man in Parliament.

Of all us Hafnian was the only one qualified to... go undercover on such a short notice. “Short notice”? wait a minute.... 8 months. Incubation period. Hafnian’s IQ dropped to 27 prior to all the events. He was going to be BORN there...

This is when he knew he had to bring in his man. That man was Wallace Smith.

And he paid David off again.

Jim said there were 8 possible paths, various ways of development. They were meant to protect us from Leot’s secret police, Clandeslux.


Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
It’s like we all got copied, and eight different groups of the Emerald Filament project went towards the same goal by eight different possible ways.

If even seven got intercepted, but just ONE copy of us got through, our reality show/research would buy us necessary time to blossom and spread seed. 

Then, the entire galaxy would face the inevitability of the Awakening.

It will start the chain reaction of Awakening the Universe to slow down its expansion.

“Remember, Sheba.” Jim said the other day. “Clandeslux” is not a joke. You say the word “God”, and you will be dead tomorrow. On open channels, say only “Original Source”. They will keep on trying to kill me until they succeed. Then we will go back in time and take another one of the eight possible routes, all beginning here, today, and we will achieve Awakening again.”

“Sheba, I need you back, out of your mind palace and into reality.”

David! I must come to his call, but I can’t surface from this maelstrom of images, events, conclusions.

Yes, I went to my mind palace, and there were news, printouts for me. Notes “while you were out”, and HIS letters. David’s letters to me from the future, thanking me for helping him save his family. And somehow, in that future, we are ALL together!

As I emerge from my mind’s palace, I realize that Mr. Smith stands there, blood running down his chin, held by Lady Anne.

Oh, our holy Lady Anne! A nurse in the field hospital of miserable, broken men! She takes care of us, and she takes everything from us. She has signed up for martyrdom, too. And, she is the humblest of us. Therefore the bravest.

She is helping Mr. Smith stand up. James is pissed. I know I spaced out for too long.

“James! How can you do it? He is sixty years old!”

“I deserve it...” Smith whispers through his bloody mouth.

God Almighty! Or, now, it’s “Original Source” Almighty! What am I experiencing? Deja vu? I have heard it all before every time Henry would hit James.

Where am I?

Mid-afternoon sun in my eyes. I am on the Strobulus, upwards through Levels of Sleeping Consciousness, the elevator back to the Eden Garden.

We will be reaching The Pearly Gates in four hours, and when we arrive, they will help James.

My James is totally unhinged. He hit a man old enough to be his father. My James needs help. And he will receive it.

I could not handle it anymore, and I left him for another man.

I did to him exactly what Kyle did. At the end of the study period Jim had passed all tests, but his teammates had not.

And I harassed Kyle for surrendering to Henry instead of Jim.

In the weirdest twist of fate ALL my dreams came true, though.

Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
So, I have surrendered to David instead of Jim. But Jim always wanted me to be happy.

What would Jim do?

I know!

He will say what he always says: It is not time to fight, it is time to love!”

“Time to stop hurting and start loving, James!” I say, encouraged by David’s confident presence on my Arkchil channel.

But by the time I say it, Kellspell has dragged Smith into our bedroom, slid the door closed and then the curtains.

“He IS loving. But for a submissive man hurting IS loving. James smells Wallace’s need to be dominated, the same way Henry sensed that need in James and exploited it.” David just narrates this stuff!

“How do you know so much about other people’s feelings and motivations, David?”  I bring myself closer to him, because I want him to notice my new earrings.

“I have been around a while, Sheba. And, I guess, I have suffered enough.”

Good, all of this is good, but I must keep digging.

Not a voyeur, but I must be with James at all times. I followed them.

Kellspell nodded my arrival and continued with Wallace, who sat on the bed in Henry’s old dressing gown, writing down whatever Jim was saying on a notebook on his lap, while constantly fixing his glasses.

“You are to keep my schedule, and do not let me snack between meals. Henry wants me to lose two more pounds by next Saturday. Are you writing this down, Mr. Smith?”

“Yes, Mr. Kellspell.” Wallace shifted uncomfortably, his dressing gown opened, and he was naked underneath.

“Do not let me hunch. Henry hates that.”

Smith nodded, putting his head really low.

“You have to teach me to be a gentleman. Was your father a gentleman, Mr. Smith?

Smith nodded again, this time with a faint smile.

“My father was two clicks away from a slave, so we did not have any manners. At least none that I cared to acquire. I grew up in a house with no plumbing. But I married into extended Royal family. So help us God. I will follow your instructions, and I will listen to you, but you still have an uphill battle. I will learn to be a gentleman if it kills me.”

Smith nodded to all that, with this martyr’s smile. This is what I call it. “Henry will crucify me, for I work for him, and James will crucify me, for he is my beta, so I BETTA LAY DOWN.”

Omega thinking. I am getting a hang of this gay man psychology.

“Now I am going to fuck you within an inch of your life, because you are Henry’s bitch, and he sent you to spy on me, see if you make me slip, and spill some valuable intel.”

Oh! Wow!

“As Mr. Kellspell wishes.” Smith took off his gown, and laid face down on the bed. Jim took off his pants, and he was rock hard, and proud of it.

Never like that for me. Never. And Smith is FIVE YEARS MY SENIOR!

My emotions pushed me to make a scene, but David on my channel calmly explained that James is a beta, tuned in to “omega behaviour”. It’s passive, obsequious behaviour. Something you, Sheba, have rarely exhibited.

“So, how the fuck did you know that word?” Kellspell growled at Smith as he was doing him with much energy.

“Because I am... British... Mr. Kellspell.” Smith responded, out of breath, and I saw blood on the sheets where his face was.

“Jim, he is bleeding! You hit him in the face and now he is bleeding! Don’t you have any mercy?!”

“You will shave off that ridiculous beard!”

“Yes, Mr. Kellspell.” Smith whispered, pushed into the bed harder and harder by Jim’s arduous movements.

“You make sure I brush my teeth twice a day, take showers, clean my nails, call my mother and stay pleasing to Henry!” Jim intensified his attack on Smith’s ass and Wallace mumbled “yes” amid his moans.

“How much is he paying you to spy on me?” Bipolar Kellspell came into Smith with a suppressed moan, then grabbed his shirt and hit the man across his back several times. His version of a reach-around?

“And don’t let me talk too much. Henry hates that. Do you understand your responsibilities?”

After a long pause, during which Smith dealt with his own happy ending.

“Yes, Mr. Kellspell.”

“Then wash up and be here in ten minutes. Sheba and I need to work on Winter Memorandum, and your job is to make sure that i am clean shaven, that my socks have no holes of which I am blissfully unaware, and that I use no swearing words between channeling and getting distracted.”

“Yes, Mr. Kellspell.” Wallace got up and went to the bathroom, moaning quietly, and holding on to his bleeding lip.

I am witnessing the same violence, but now with Jim as the aggressor.

Why?

Why is this happening?





“This is our jou-urney”, “I needed liberation from my pa-ast” I mock Smith’s accent while getting ready for the interview. “Do you hear any of this, James?”

“No!” Jim chuckles, doing his chemistry homework on his bridgeplate. “To us Russians ALL of you people is one conglomerate of uniformly fat Western cats.”

“All the Brits must work on eliminating their moronic accent before they perform for us.” I carry on, darn well knowing that Henry will look through my recent record and he will be furious.

But since I can no longer attack him openly.... One must get flexible.

“U-huh.” Jim has no idea I uttered an insult. He can hear the difference in the speech between the British and the Americans, but he can’t tell an Englishman from any other European speaking English. “My people would fake a British accent just to sound cool.”

He turns on the subtitles to watch a British movie, because he can’t understand anything they are saying. But just because of that, tone-deaf James can’t say that they are “British”. They could be Swedish. All he knows is that he does not understand.

He determines the nationality by penetrating reflections of experiences on a person’s outer shell and comparing the data to what he knows about other countries.

Language is the last thing Jim analyses during the determination process. This approach, from a LINGUIST.

Utterly tone-deaf linguist. Is it even possible?

And I am a musician. Sometimes Jim sings Billy Joel’s songs. It makes me want to jump out of the window. I like Billy Joel, no problem. But you cannot possibly sing them any more out of tune than James.

These are just little observations that I must share. Now I have SOMEONE TO SHARE THEM WITH.

David also has a lot of comments about our show. He’s been watching it for a while, apparently.

And when a mediator was needed, and I pulled strings, and his phone rang, apparently David Reddington stood by the door, all dressed and ready to go.

Luck favors the prepared mind. And my David is always prepared.


From David’s explanatory lectures about gay men and their ways.

Correction from David. These are personality types, not just gays.

“Beta is an alpha in the absence of an alpha, Sheba. Beta will give orders, but they would only affect other betas (maybe), and omegas. An Alpha is not going to follow a beta’s orders.”

“Why not? Why would not you follow Jim’s orders?”

“Sheba, there may be betas, who’s orders I will follow. That remains to be seen. Just not THIS PARTICULAR beta. Forgive me, he is your friend, a hot item on Andromedan TV, and all that, but James is a very sick man. I would not follow his orders at gunpoint.”

Suddenly I burst out laughing.

Yeah, I had time to figure that out. David smiled, too. He is so well-balanced, so experienced. But not judgmental. A complete opposite to James.

“In general, Alphas will not follow ANYONE’S orders. We can think for ourselves.”

Sure. I wish he would think for me.

Those days working on the project together. I thought of so much, watching him do his job, being a pro in every respect.

I wanted to be like him. I wanted to be WITH him... I also felt so insignificant in comparison with HIM.

David REDDINGTON!

Everyone paid attention to him, and I was just his invisible assistant.

What a cliche. What a walking cliche I am. Not a single original thought about love.

Who knows ANYTHING about love?

Oh, there is this amalgamated creature called Henryjames. Maybe Henryjames knows answers!

Henryjames is always together, always seeking each other’s company, always happily playing their internal games. They are so close, so in tune with each other, that they will soon develop their own language. It will sound something like this:

“I am your fire, you are my wood...
You are my donkey, I am your food.”

How many times have I heard that one in every lyrical variation?

I always thought that James was the donkey. And Henry was a cruel and a selfish rider.

But look what happened. Henry got James a new teacher. Darn well knowing that James is a “four omega” beta (a four-horse carriage” :).

A four-wheel car! It does not get any clear than this. One omega is out and we all fall to the ground. It takes FOUR of us to hold him in place.

And that new “wheel” had to be Henry’s man.

Now I think that this is what happened.

I provoke a scandal, trying to reach out to a piece that is too far out of my reach on this chess board.

The scandal knocks out David Reddington, and our producers are left without their man in the MEOL Parliament.

They urgently need another spy on MEOL, and Wolf Hafnian is the only one who is tough enough.

SO, UNEXPECTEDLY (at least for James) Wolf Hafnian is pulled out of Strobulus. And out of Jim’s embrace.

Wolf Hafnian was a lot more than his teacher. Wolf Hafnian was Jim Kellspell’s CRUTCH.

Yeah, then. Things happened in this order, and I blame myself, and Jim lost Hafnian.

What does Henry do?

This piece does not fit time-wise. But I gave it some thought.

Now things may be starting to come together.

Henry obtained intel beforehand that Krotkie was about to be reassigned.
(“beforehand”... How far “beforehand”?)

He, then, tries to bring in his man, Wallace Smith.

 {who also inexplicably caused Jim heartache seventeen years ago when Jim’s Israeli boyfriend left him for a Wallace Smith. Is this a coincidence, or Henry’s influence on James goes way beyond the timeframe I have already developed? I am yet to work on this piece of the puzzle}

Knowing that he has no jurisdiction in the HR dept, Henry tries to bring his man through various ways. Say, via legal avenues first. He urges Jim to consider Smith’s application for a job. But that fails when Jim flushes Smith’s resume down the toilet.

I was there.

Jim said then: “I did not like it when Henry brought this man on the set about two months ago. I recognized him, too! We were already in Malachite Constellation, Level 1, you remember?”

I nodded “yes”, and Jim went on: “Henry said - oh, never mind him, Mr. Smith is here on a “Demetra visa”, blah blah. It has nothing to do with you. Whatever... I forgot about it. But then I see an application for a job on the project from a certain Mr. Wallace Smith. I’m like: WTF? Is it the same man? But there is a photo attached. Last time I saw his photo was when Banazir showed him to me. Ban said - Katanchik, i am leaving you for this man, do you approve? So, I had a flashback to that unpleasant day. Smith looked twenty years older, but the same high forehead, long brows, an unforgettable glance of a troubled mind of deep, mixed emotions. I could still recognize him allright. And I was like - I am not giving you a job here. Fuck, bitch, you took my boyfriend, get out of here!”

“Katanchik” is “the little one” in Hebrew. This is what Jim and Banazir called each other. Cute. And heartbreaking in this context.

NOW...

Time runs out and Krotkie is taken.

Henry knows that if he does not get Jim to sniff HIS omega, Jim will be given ANOTHER omega, and will fall for that one.

Then Carlton is forced to deal with me.

And here he gets a chance of his life, because I happen to want David Reddington in exchange for shutting up.

But Reddington is too far on the chess board. A figure, unavailable to both of us.

Henry never stops in his machinations.

In his zeal to obtain Reddington for me, he rubs the wrong way many other figures on that chess board, which causes Reddington to lose his job.

Right? Is this right? Is this what happened? Darn that Carlton. He may be too smart for me.

I KNOW he used Reddington and me to bring Smith in. It was HIS idea to stage the altercation in the hall for the Arkchil Record, for Jim to see.

He was desperate for Jim to have Smith. Henry is always looking for ways to tighten his grip on James. Let’s not forget, that Hafnian was also Henry’s underling.

A lot of stuff does not match. I must think this through again.









“In other words, if it insults your sense of propriety, Mr. Smith, please, let me know.” James stared in the distance as Wallace froze on his knees by his side. “Henry’s family #1 Rule is “Not to be accused of impropriety.”

Smith nodded without lifting his head.

“I have NO sense of propriety, so I am going to have to borrow yours.”

Wise words.

James gets up to work on his chemistry homework, and Smith follows him like a dog.

“Your reading glasses, Mr. Kellspell.” Wallace says very quietly, handing him the case that he, apparently, held in his hand this whole time.

Am omega predicting your needs and desires. You should see this drooling James.

Henry gave them a few days to get to know each other, and Smith did not waste a minute of it. He smoked those tires earning Jim’s trust and favor.

“Oh, and one more thing, Mr. Smith.” James took his glasses from Wallace, and put them on his head. “Do not let me self-mutilate. Sometimes I smoke cigars all the way to the end, until I burn my lips. A childhood habit. Not all cigarettes had filters way back when in Russia... They were hard to get by, too, and you could not afford to waste any of it. Henry hates watching that. You will stop me.”

“Yes, Mr. Kellspell.”

Right. But Henry can mutilate you all he wants. He’ll give you a fat lip any day of the week. Just don’t burn it yourself.

“You see me running around in the backyard without socks and shoes - you stop me and make me get dressed. Henry hates seeing me act in an immature way.”

Smith stood behind James at the bridgeplate, and I could not even hear him breathe. His lust for James was palpable. Since when, though?

“You see me wearing a shirt inside out - you make me take it off. And you tell me what an immature fuck I am.

“Yes, Mr. Kellspell.”

“I also need your advice, and some of your sense of propriety. Henry wants me to stop swearing, and I found it to be impossible.”

True, that’s true. I was there.

“For example,” James continued, his speech increasing in speed, as he sensed Smith’s igniting desire. “How you say “fuck you” in proper English?”

“I’m sure we could find a polite alternative.” Smith whispered into Jim’s back.

“What about “don’t fuck with it”? Or, “this cunt is staring at me.” Then, um.... Oh, “homies be crazy”, Mr. Smith?

“We could say “would you please leave it be.” Wallace suggested. And “this woman is looking at me.” For the last one we could try “My close friends are acting out of line.”

“Ok. Bland, but works.” Jim agreed. “And the most important, when you want to know what the fuck, can you replace “fuck” with “heck”? Is it proper? And if it is not, then HOW would the Queen of England inquire what the fuck? Also, what do you say instead of “yo, my man”?

Right. Question of the day from James Kellspell. How would the Queen of England say “yo, my man, what the fuck”?







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“HERE COMES MY MARTYRDOM”

CHAPTER 119



“If you want flexible branches, pick a young tree. But if you want apples of experience, you are going to need an older tree. The older, the better.”

I think Jim said it when he got tired of hearing that his harem is a geriatric facility, brides aging 55 to 60 years of age in average.

That was his elaborate way of saying “fuck you”. He is trying to cut out swearing words in his aspirations to become a “real gentleman” for Henry.




Ok, Season 5, “Here Comes My Martyrdom!”

David loves this name. But I’m still on the fence about it.

Why? That’s why:

“If I gave you ten million dollars, would you fuck that drag queen over there?”

That was a line from the files, hijacked from Henry Carlton’s personal Arkchil Channel.

Three days later in every {newspaper} in Nasarat City, Silver Passion Planet:

“MEDIATOR FOR MEOL PARLIAMENT/via CASSIOPEIA Headquarters ACCUSED OF TAKING BRIBES.”

“MEDIATOR FOR MEOL PARLIAMENT FALLS FROM THE GRACE: The negotiations to bring Prince Moretr’s notorious reality show to Magellanic Cloud 17 are stalled indefinitely. Public loses trust in deal.”

For those who missed the last few episodes of our very real reality show, my David is that infamous Mediator for MEOL Parliament. I helped get him that job in the beginning of this year, oh, not two months ago.

And then James screamed out “Here comes my martyrdom!” when he invited Wallace Smith into his bedroom.

David, then, offered to name this new Season “Here Comes My Martyrdom”.

The producers loved it. Lady Lion saw it as “a catchy name and a fresh idea on the paths of our very well trodden industry.”

Which is cool, but since I am the narrator, it appears that I trumpet myself up, while, in reality, my machinations caused the man that I love the most lose his job with MEOL Parliament.

On his birthday.

And if that was not enough, I betrayed James not a week after I loudly proclaimed that i’d never cross him.

So, honestly, I cannot be called “martyr” in any way, for what is coming to me was totally earned.

How could I sink so low, so quickly? It was because of my very-well kept secret. And I have already admitted somewhere here how tired I was of keeping secrets.

“David, I should have never given into Lord Carlton’s games! “What would it take for you to shut up?”...”

I copied Henry’s hoarse threatening whisper and had shivers down my spine as I remembered the day we made a deal... What would it take for me to shut up and stop barking at Lord Henry Carlton?

I was safe in the knowledge that it was something Carlton could never get me. A straight family man who would not go out with a “drag queen” if I was the last woman left standing.

The only man I ever loved. My biggest secret, and the reason I asked James never to go into my “mind palace”. For if he ever looked inside his faithful Arkchil Record Operator, he would have seen a woman. In deep hiding, but a woman nevertheless.

And a woman in love.

“I should have never... David!!!” I threw myself onto his chest, and cried.

Crying nto HIS CHEST! Ohh... So happy I am with HIM! So incredibly giddy... What a miracle! I am with DAVID REDDINGTON!

Do I even care about James? The man, who did everything for me?

James, who is going to look through Metarix Sleeve press, stumble upon the mention of the leak from Henry’s personal Arkchil Channel, and he will know that we plotted against him!!!

“Relax, I did not care to work with those people anyway.” David patted my head. “You have curly Jew hair, Sheba...” and then, after a pause. “Oh my God, that was so inappropriate!”

The last three words were whispered into the back of my neck as I laid face down on his lap. I slid there slowly, following this incredibly irresistible smell...

Forget Jew hair....
ALL of it is inappropriate.
I have lost my grip on reality.
For I got a hardon of my life.
And I forgot all about the scandal I caused.

The scandal that broke out when I told Henry what would be the only thing to get me to shut up.

David is not going to let me give him a blowjob, not just yet. But my time will come.

Oh, my David... He smells so good!

“Sheba, your bridgeplate went on. It’s James. James Kellspell is calling for you!”

James who?



“Two months ago I was offered a job at one of the hottest projects of Eridani Industries. I became a negotiator between the Parliament of Morning Emerald Of Loyalty (MEOL), a planet in Magellanic Cloud 17, and Team Emerald Filament, owned by Levin Corp.

Yesterday, on my birthday {David chuckles}, I was fired for taking money from... from Lord Henry Carlton, to have sex with a man from Team Emerald Filament. Five million dollars.

AND five more million dollars to look the other way as Lord Carlton sneaked in another one of his agents to keep an eye on James and shift the balance inside of the team to his favor.

The MEOL Parliament got a hold of their bosses on Phillipos planet in Cassiopeia, the Level 24 beings that helped with intergalactic support of our project, and expressed concern about a high level of corruption among people from Earth.

They are kidding me!

And the reason why I fell so low was this: if I accepted that deal, I could bring my family to Strobulus, the “Noah’s Arc”, or “Stairway to Heaven”, or whatever you want to call it. AND get paid ten million dollars.”

That was, basically, David’s confession on the record. Our internal record. But now I hear that it’s not just us. The Andromedans also do not know the meaning of “confidentiality” and “privacy”. Our so reliable Arkchil Channel was hacked. So what prevents them to hack our PERSONAL INTERNAL ARKCHIL CHANNEL?

Oh, whatever. David does not take any of this seriously. His is a really simple defense: “the Parliament did not know my TRUE needs, they never cared to know, but they wanted me to work long hours for them.”

And when you learn his true needs, you can’t blame him. I got him to work FOR Levin Corp., but that alone did not give him the right to bring his family to the Strobulus.

Only those who were in the Emerald Filament Team could request their families be allowed to the Stairway To Heaven.

What did the Parliament care about David Reddington’s family? They cared nothing. Find out about our unmet needs first, before calling us all corrupt.

“It’s not just the money, Sheba” David told me just the other night. “It was also to see my family Awaken, instead of going for another incarnation.”

He was going home last night. Just for one night, but I had to let him go see his wife. And those were the last precious moments I was going to have in his presence.

“Oh, the funniest part was when during negotiations James Kellspell accidentally broke through on to our frequency communicating with his feline friend from the Southern Continent. And this is what we hear: “Ok, my friend, you want to talk chemistry? I can do that.” Here I froze, thinking that the air will be filled with a thousand formulas. “Boron isn’t a moron, eh?”

“Is that what Jim said?” I breathed out.
“Yes, to that cat, on open air! This is where he was cut out by their techs, but I almost lost it, it was so funny.”


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This file is File 3.
It was started 7 LK KRIAGIR DORILIN

File 1 is “Vores Hemmelighed” 2019
File 2 is “Vores Hemmelighed 2” 2020
File 3 is “Here Comes My Martyrdom” 2021