The Emissary

By Stefan Alford

In the sequel to "The Unveiling," the revelation of this Church cover up will change everything...
The long-kept secret regarding the truth about reincarnation has been hidden away for nearly 2,000 years within one of the original New Testament gospels.
Is the world ready for the truth?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Oct 29, 2016
• ISBN: 9781365472138

Book preview

The Emissary

THE EMISSARY

COPYRIGHT

The Emissary is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without permission of the author.

I Have a Rendezvous with Death, by Alan Seeger {{PD-1966}}

The Innocents Abroad, by Mark Twain, {{PD-1923}}

Copyright 2016 by Stefan Alford

ISBN 978-1-365-47213-8

All Rights Reserved

Published by Lulu Publishing

Printed in the USA

First eBook Edition

PREFACE

Reincarnation is not an exclusively Hindu or Buddhist concept, but it is part of the history of human origin. It is proof of the mindstream's capacity to retain knowledge of physical and mental activities. It is related to the theory of interdependent origination and to the law of cause and effect.

- The Dalai Lama

There are so many things that are incompatible with a single life. No one can learn fully in one life the lessons of unbroken health and of bodily sickness, of riches and of poverty, of study and action, of comradeship and isolation, of defiance and of obedience, of virtue and of vice.

- John McTaggart

Thus finding myself to exist in the world, I believe I shall, in some shape or other, always exist… The soul of man is immortal and will be treated with justice in another life, respecting its conduct in this. I look upon death to be as necessary to the constitution as sleep. We shall rise refreshed in the morning.

- Benjamin Franklin

I did not begin when I was born, nor when I was conceived. I have been growing, developing, through incalculable myriads of millenniums. All my previous selves have their voices, echoes, promptings in me. Oh, incalculable times again shall I be born.

- Jack London

As long as you are not aware of the continual law of Die and Be Again, you are merely a vague guest on a dark Earth.

- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

I know I am deathless. No doubt I have died myself ten thousand times before. I laugh at what you call dissolution, and I know the amplitude of time.

- Walt Whitman

Since the soul is not found without body and yet is not body, it may be in one body or in another, and pass from body to body.

- Giordano Bruno, Dominican priest, Venice trial, 1592

Death is the starlit strip between the companionship of yesterday and the reunion of tomorrow… I do not live backward. God does not ask of the returning sinner what he has been, but what he is and what he will be.

- Mark Twain

No honest theologian therefore can deny that his acceptance of Jesus as Christ logically binds every Christian to a belief in reincarnation - in Elias’ case (who was later John the Baptist) at least.

- Robert Graves

But I tell you, Elijah has already come, and they did not recognize him... Then the disciples understood that he was talking to them about John the Baptist.

- Jesus (Matthew 17:12, 13)

CHAPTER ONE

I miss the cold.

Andrea responded to my remark in much the same way that a spouse in a decades-long marriage might – by simply changing the subject. It was heartwarming to be back to that level of ‘intimacy’ in a matter of days.

The GPS shows that we should almost be there, but I see nothing but more desert ahead.

Ha, you said ‘but’ twice, I responded like a typical teenager. While technically correct, I was far from typical – having the memories of four distinct past-life incarnations. My last, as Matthew Reynolds, was so predominant that I felt this new existence was just an extension of that one – I was back, only in a different body. And even though I had been born and raised in Russia under a different birth name, I was back to being Matt to my friends – all two of them.

With a barely discernable frown – either at my juvenile comment or the unchanging landscape before us – Andrea continued to squint through the Range Rover’s dirty windshield next to our local Iraqi driver.

In the backseat with me, Lars gave a slight chuckle, which quickly turned into a long, dry, hacking wheeze. I handed him a bottle of water from the cooler between us.

No offense, I said to him, but why are you still here?

You don’t know these people… like I do, he answered, a series of coughs unintentionally drawing his sentence out. Someone needs to vouch for you and…

No, no, I interrupted him. What are you still doing here, period? As in breathing? As in frailly dragging that husk of a shell around?

Well, aren’t you just too kind, Matthew?

Come on Lars, you know what I mean, I replied. At what point do you decide your purpose is better served by downing a handful of pills with a shot of whiskey and coming back again – younger, stronger, faster?

Ah, I do know what you mean, in other words, less of a liability? My, what a slow and depressing demise you envision for me, he said with a grin. I much prefer to go out quickly and in the heat of action.

At this point, for you, that could be while you’re masturbating, I countered.

Seriously?! Andrea interjected, even turning her head to glare at us. I mean, really guys? Come on.

I think now turn is here, the driver said unexpectedly, barely slowing down as he left the paved road at a 45-degree angle and bounced us across the uneven, parched terrain.

Holy fuck, you may not need those pills, I said, gripping the headrest in front of me in an attempt to steady myself.

Andrea screamed suddenly and I tried to peer around to see what was causing her such alarm when she yelled, Let go of my hair you jackass!

Sounds like what I heard from your hotel room last night too, Lars cracked.

While you were masturbating? I shot back good-naturedly.

Is not normal, no? The driver asked Andrea, his eyes darting between me and Lars in his rearview mirror.

No, it’s not normal, she sighed, then added with a hint of a smile, but it is the norm.

The norm had brought us overland from Turkey into Northern Iraq – a pretty hostile environment for Westerners to be driving around, but apparently the location where we’d link up with a contact possessing credible information on the whereabouts and plans of both Kyler and Vincent. Previously, those plans, as they were, centered on killing me – which Kyler had accomplished on three prior occasions. Perhaps their interest in me was done, now that Vincent and I weren’t somehow two souls inhabiting the same form. To be fair, Kyler’s obsessive motivation for hunting me down was directly related to that fact and his last sacrifice of me served as an exorcism of sorts to separate Vincent and myself. We had all died together then, so they’d also be my age now.

If Lars, who had orchestrated this meeting, knew anything more than the date, time and geographic coordinates, he wasn’t sharing.

It had only been three days since my former mentor and girlfriend had found me on the outskirts of Biysk, in Siberia. I hadn’t really been in hiding, so figured it was only a matter of time. I also hadn’t been in any particular hurry to reconnect either, knowing the inevitable reunion would lead to innumerable hazards to life and limb – such as careening across a rutted desert at 80 mph. As if to confirm that prescient vision, we dropped from a small rise and the hard, plastic cooler went airborne toward the front center console. In slow motion I could already see the consequences play out in my mind – it would hit the gear shift, knocking the vehicle out of drive, jolting the transmission, stalling the engine, flipping the vehicle, shattering the windshield, spraying jagged shards of glass throughout the interior, jamming the seatbelts, igniting a fire, exploding the gas tank, burning the… oh wait, danger averted… Like a mummified ninja, Lars reflexively punched the container in mid-flight, diverting its trajectory. It hit the back of the passenger seat and then dropped hard on my left shin.

My God! I screamed, That could not have possibly gone any worse! Fuckin’ hell dude!

Suddenly, however, I wasn’t the only one wailing in the car and we were all jerked as far as what little play our seatbelts gave before being slammed back and riding out a fishtailing skid of several hundred feet as the Rover gradually came to a halt. I’m not even sure the wheels had fully stopped turning before our driver leapt from the vehicle.

Out! Out! Out! I shouted, unbuckling and following suit. I had no idea what was going on, but when the driver bails, it’s time to go. I grabbed Andrea as she was climbing out and we took off without looking back. I could make out more howling and warbling screams behind us and realized that we’d left Lars at the mercy of whatever was happening. I stopped and was in mid-turn when he nearly ran me over.

Why the hell are you stopping?! He yelled as he sped past. Wow, I seriously underestimated his physical deterioration. He wasn’t even winded.

Um, guys, said Andrea, pointing back toward our driver kneeling and bowed on a small rug behind the car as the maxed volume of the Rover’s sound system continued its broadcast. I believe it’s prayer time.

Lord, please give me the strength to keep from beating the shit out of that guy, amen, I offered in response.

You have to admire his dedication, said Lars, grunting as he sat down.

And respect his customs, added Andrea as she seated herself next to Lars on the dry, cracked ground.

Why are there horseflies out here? I asked, swatting at my head. We’re in the middle of fucking nowhere. Why?

You know, Matt, I’m disappointed, said Andrea. You’ve really turned into a foul-mouthed, little yob.

She means that you’re quite rude and obnoxious, Lars chimed in. I believe that’s the proper definition.

I paused, and then nodded reflectively.

You guys are right, I acknowledged, sighing and sitting down to face them. I’m sorry.

They waited, as if expecting me to continue, but I didn’t.

Well, good. Thanks, Andrea finally replied. That’s a start. You didn’t crack a stupid joke or try to make excuses. There’s hope. The next step is making a conscious effort to change your behavior.

You’re right, I repeated. I need to accept this situation and focus on the way ahead without lashing out at everyone and everything.

OK, are you just being sarcastic now? Lars asked, somewhat defensively.

No, not all my old friend, I answered, quickly adding, I mean old as in long-time acquaintance. Look, I know I’ve been insufferable since you yanked me out of my anonymity, but it’s like I didn’t get to fully enjoy the small reprieve I had, and now we’re back to… whatever this is…

Did you really enjoy your new life? Andrea asked.

Nah, not so much, I said with a chuckle. Why do you think I swear like a Siberian coal miner – that’s how everybody talks there. And now I’m going cold turkey on a three-year, two-pack-a-week cigarette addiction. Yeah, I’m a little on edge. Give me some time to get back to ‘myself.’

I found my statement unintentionally amusing. While many 15-year-olds probably ask Who am I? in confused self-reflection as part of the natural coming-of-age process, it was a more literal dilemma for me as I harbored a multitude of inner voices of the people I had been in my previous incarnations.

Whereas Lars and Andrea were still the same people I knew from my previous life, although older – he had to be in his 70’s and she was now 40 – I sometimes felt like I was a mixed up, mash up of Matthias, Jake, Simon, Matthew and Mikhel. In addition, I felt like I was again trapped in the continuous cycle of futility on the question of reincarnation that divided Kyler and Vincent: Should the world at large know the truth that our souls live on and return?

Lather. Rinse. Repeat, I said, to the puzzled expressions of my compatriots. All we do is try to clean ourselves up, so to speak, again and again. While that might be commendable and optimistically persevering, I think what’s lost in the effort is the inevitable realization that we continue to get dirty.

That doesn’t mean one should ignore the basic concepts of hygiene, Andrea said.

I hate metaphorical speak, grumbled Lars. It’s a crutch people use when they want to appear more learned than they actually are.

Oh, trust me, I answered, I’m not trying to feign understanding of the big picture. We all just place assumptions that there’s a design and purpose to this, something to be gained in the long run, whatever that might be. So we go about our little machinations without resolution while somebody is having a laugh at our expense.

You’re a real downer, said Andrea.

It’s hard to stay positive when you have sweat running down your butt crack, I responded.

Neither Andrea nor Lars was up to commenting on that one.

So what’s the game plan here Lars? I asked. You’ve been pretty vague about our role. I mean, so what if Kyler and Vincent are back to their millennia-old conflict? Why should we care? I’m not sure I want to take a stance for either side. Let it play out however it’s intended.

This is quite possibly the most important decision on the most sensitive subject for all humanity, and you really have no viewpoint one way or the other? Lars asked.

You’re right about the magnitude, which is exactly why I don’t feel qualified to pick one or the other, I said, echoing my earlier thought out loud: Who am I?

Look, you had a harmless analogy when we first met, I continued, when you compared the different camps of ‘to reveal or not to reveal’ as to liking either the Beatles or the Stones. Well, I like both. Who says you can’t like both? Apple or Microsoft? Pepsi or Coke? Ginger or Mary Ann? They’re all good.

Okay, Lars started, looking for an appropriate rejoinder. But… what if, you could only pick one for the rest of time, because once it’s out there – there’s no going back. It’s like having to make one choice for the rest of your life because the other is permanently taken away. If you pick the Beatles, you can never listen to ‘Exile on Main Street’ again. That option is gone forever.

Fine, I conceded. Beatles, Apple, Coke and just because everybody always picks Mary Ann to make some kind of statement against the vapid, stereotype of Ginger, who has somehow turned into the underdog, yet what guy really wouldn’t pick her, come on, I’ll take the movie star over the girl next door. And I still don’t care either way about the revelation of reincarnation for the masses. I fail to see how that’s my problem, despite the fact that it has been nothing but a problem for me.

Well then, let me back up, Lars said. You don’t get to pick. Somebody is making the decision for you because you have no input and opted not to voice your opinion. Someone has decided that from now on your only options are the Stones, Microsoft, Pepsi and Mary Ann.

I’ll adapt and make it work, I said matter-of-factly. It may not be the ideal outcome, but the point is I’ll survive either way, and so will humanity.

Lars and Andrea exchanged a look that I didn’t care for – was that possibly apprehension or regret in bringing me along?

Lars continued with what seemed a completely irrelevant question.

Do you believe in aliens?

I looked at him suspiciously. Is this a trick question?

No, no, nooo, he said emphatically. Totally serious. For reals, as they say.

‘They’ being 13-year-old girls? Andrea asked.

I suppose the existence of alien life is certainly a possibility, I answered, looking upward to see what may have sparked this tangent.

Of course it’s scientifically and mathematically possible that there is other life out there in this vast cosmos, but that wasn’t my question. Do YOU believe they exist?

Never really given it much thought, I said honestly. Don’t we have enough challenges just dealing with the issues of our existence.

Ah, but perhaps it’s inter-related? Lars continued. If we believe that God created the universe and if there are different beings on other planets, then he created them as well, did he not? And would he not be their God too? And, of course, they would see our shared God in their image, whatever that might be.

Um… I guess… I replied, unsure of where he was going with this line of reasoning.

So if we have the same God, he continued, and we all end up in the same place somewhere down the line, isn’t it possible that we might have other options?

I see, Andrea chimed in, lending some credibility to Lars’ ramblings, you’re wondering why we wouldn’t be able to be reborn on a different world in different form to experience new challenges if we all come from and return to the same source?

Exactly! Lars answered.

Wow. That almost makes sense in a weird, convoluted, mind-blowing, have you been smoking crack kind of way, I responded. I don’t know if you’re just fucking with me, but that’s pretty thought provoking.

Yes, it could go a long way to explain so much that’s not known, Lars went on. It could account for the common population-growth question of the ever increasing number of souls – they don’t appear out of nowhere… they already exist; just not here. It could also serve to explain why some have such long gaps between their lives here based on no recollections of an existence, say, between 1600 and 1900.

Now that you mention it, I said, irreverent as ever. I do have some vague memories of being Xzor the six-legged insect king of Morphiseum, a fierce warrior with large antennae, compound eyes, chitinous exoskeleton, and 32 concubines.

Lars shot me a disapproving glance while Andrea remarked that my antennae wasn’t large enough to satisfy 32 concubines.

Undeterred, Lars went on hypothesizing that our planet could merely be one among a larger chain as part of an evolutionary stage for the soul. Then the prayer calls ceased as suddenly as they began.

We go now! The driver yelled, rolling up his mat.

None of us spoke further as we made our way back to the SUV. I helped Andrea in and then climbed in the back. All was quiet until the doors shut.

Nooooo! I yelled, causing Lars to immediately duck down in his seat – his instinct for self- preservation was impressive. That big-ass fly just followed me in!

We drove across the unmarked desert for another fifteen minutes, toward the coordinates programmed into the GPS. It was nearly 6 p.m. and the sun was losing its grip on the horizon. I didn’t like the fact that we’d soon only be able to see what was directly before our headlights and nothing else.

You have little faith?

It wasn’t the question so much that surprised me, but its origin. Both Lars and Andrea also appeared caught off guard, staring at our driver, whose eyes were locked on mine in the mirror.

Um, I’d have a little more if you kept your eyes on the… I began, realizing ‘road’ wasn’t technically the correct description for our situation. Okay, I guess there’s not much to run into out here. But still…

Is good, he replied, removing his hands from the steering wheel, is on auto control.

Ooooh boy, Andrea said, quickly reaching over to steady the wheel. That cruise function only controls the speed, Mustafa, nothing else.

Yes, I make joke, he said, grinning and placing his hands back in the 10-and-2 position. My heartbeat correspondingly went down from about 200 to 199.

No faith in your God? He inquired again.

Wow, I just went from little faith to none. Thanks. There is no universal belief, as you know Mustafa, I answered, using his name as if I had remembered it and not just been reminded through Andrea. Faith is more of a personal value. Everybody has different definitions and varying degrees.

Ah, there’s my non-committal boyfriend, Andrea said playfully.

What is yours? Our chauffeur-turned-philosopher persisted.

Well, not to be wishy-washy, I said, directing that toward Andrea, I firmly, without reservation or doubt, believe that everybody is entitled to believe, or disbelieve as it may be, in whatever religion, faith or higher power they choose. The problem, unfortunately for many, is that they do not have the freedom to make that choice – it’s pushed on them by their parents, upbringing and environment and pretty much amounts to brainwashing in some respects. As for me, while I have seen a light, it only leaves me more in the dark.

Metaphors… grumbled Lars.

Is better for all world to believe same? Mustafa asked innocently enough.

That is the topic du jour my friend, I replied, but who decides and what if it’s the wrong choice? There’s really only one way a unified belief can come to pass, and I don’t think that’s going to happen anytime soon.

Everyone turned to face me, including our driver. While Mustafa was focused on the question of religious unity, my response was geared toward the earlier conversation with Andrea and Lars on the question of reincarnation being a universally accepted truth.

The only way it can ever work, I said, is if God, Allah or whatever higher power is out there grants a sudden flash of insight and knowledge to every single living being all at once, and all future generations are born with that knowledge within them and not as something that is taught. Otherwise, any efforts by self-proclaimed prophets or duly-anointed emissaries are doomed to failure and will result in further division and never-ending ideological bloodshed.

Mustafa whispered something I couldn’t make out and turned to the front.

What did he say? I asked Andrea.

She repeated the Arabic word as best she could and I did a quick mental search using Simon’s gift of eidetic memory combined with the Oxford Arabic Dictionary I had scanned at the airport in Istanbul.

I think the closest translation would be ‘enlightenment,’ I said. He gets it. 

That was followed by a long silence until Lars and Andrea both slowly nodded in approval. He appeared pleased, while she looked mildly surprised.

Sometimes it’s the most obvious and simple answer that solves the most difficult question, Lars said. Although I agree that it seems unrealistic to occur in that manner. I think being spoon-fed something of that magnitude takes away from our personal, spiritual growth.

Or presents the opportunity not only for increased self-betterment along a new path, but a shared connectivity finally binding us all together toward that goal, countered Andrea.

CHAPTER TWO

When we finally stopped, I wasn’t sure if we had run out of gas or reached our destination. It was black outside, and even the enormous number of unusually bright stars that appeared closer to the ground than I’ve ever seen did little to illuminate the landscape around us. The dim, green glow from the dashboard provided the only light, and it wasn’t much.

Much gas tanks in back, Mustafa assured me when I raised the concern.

Well, it’s been nice seeing you guys again briefly, I responded sarcastically.

You can’t live in a constant state of paranoia Matt, Andrea said.

Perhaps I am overly paranoid now, I agreed, but, come on, somebody has gotten the three of us together. We’re isolated, stationary, in the dark, in a vehicle loaded with liquid explosives. Talk about a target of opportunity for Kyler or Vincent.

I believe fuel is technically considered an accelerant rather than an explosive, Lars corrected me, adding, Also, I’m confident we don’t need to worry about Kyler or Vincent. I’d be more concerned that an American drone or micro-satellite might have tracked our irregular route in a suspiciously blacked-out vehicle and could be locking some Hellfire missiles on us in the belief that we are part of a terrorist group.

That’s it, encourage him, Andrea said.

You know, it’s funny, I said, trying to word the next part so as not to give Mustafa any more doubt about our ‘is not normal’ nature. Given the, uh, recurring quality of our affliction, I could be a care-free, risk-taking, live-on-the-edge daredevil with little regard to the consequences since I have the ultimate safety net, but I feel more like I’d be a distrustful, constantly looking-over-the-shoulder, seeing danger at every turn, armed-to-the-teeth survivalist.

I’m not quite sure you covered all the applicable cliché’s there, Lars joked.

Here’s another cliché, Andrea said, just be yourself… as long as it’s not that last one.

Especially when you consider how that latter behavior cost Kyler his sanity, Lars reminded me.

Yeah, well, I’m tired of having to start over all the time, especially due to naivety or carelessness on my part, I answered.

A little paranoia can be healthy, I suppose, Lars said. Plus, that means I can leave the worrying to you and be the risk-taking daredevil of the group.

He reached into the seatback pocket on his side and pulled out the local version of a Slim Jim, unwrapped it, held it to his nose, shrugged and took a bite.

But really, I said, after a moment in which Lars’ chewing was the only sound, should we just be sitting here like this, waiting?

Lars and Andrea groaned in unison.

We’re a little early, Lars explained after swallowing the last of the dried-out goat meat. Our contact isn’t due for another hour.

Do you know who it is? Personally, I mean, I asked him.

Yes, and for your next question, yes as well, He replied.

Well, I trust you Lars, I stated, turning the subject of my unasked question toward him. Although you’ve never really explained why you came looking for me and why it’s necessary that I be a part of this.

First of all, we missed you, he replied with a smile. Secondly, your presence and involvement were requested by name.

By whom?

We’ll all find out the answer to that in an hour, he said.

I was about to question his voucher of trust for somebody when he apparently didn’t know the associates of that individual, when Mustafa chose that time to break his silence.

Time for the tea.

He didn’t wait for any kind of affirmation from his passengers, instead exiting and again heading toward the back of the SUV. He opened the rear, rummaged among the bags and suitcases we had piled in, and retrieved a large plastic sack. He then disappeared into the darkness.

I’m not gonna say anything, I sighed.

A small, flickering light appeared about 20 feet to our left.

I’m not gonna say it, I said slowly through clenched teeth, hoping either Lars or Andrea would experience a jolt of common sense and see the obvious signs of a trap.

He just has a little fire going to heat the pot, Andrea said. It’s custom.

Lars, meanwhile, casually dug through the seatback again to see what other snacks might be found to accompany the upcoming hot beverage service.

I tried. I really tried, but if somebody