Collective Control - Book Two

By Fred Shorten

Jesica would have liked nothing more than to be a normal woman, to have a husband and watch their children grow. She lost this dream when she gave up being human. She is now a kind of angel, an Ambassador existing here on Earth and in a dimension called the collective.

Together with her boyfriend and new family, all angels, they must fight an evil Ambassador for the fate of all humanity. To win she may have to become a goddess and in the process give up all she has left.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jun 7, 2018
• ISBN: 9781387866335

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Collective Control - Book Two

Collective Control

Copyright

Collective Control

First Edition

Copyright © 2018 Fred Shorten

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-387-86633-5

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Chapter 01: Experiment

I enjoyed the physical contact as I lay in his arms. I looked at his arm wrapped around me and my hand touching his skin. I could feel his warmth where we were combined as one. In this moment I could believe we were both human, that what I felt was skin touching skin. It was not. We are Ambassadors and our bodies are made up entirely of trans-dimensional particles that enable us to exist both here on Earth and in a dimension called the collective.

I was still me, I told myself that frequently. My brain cells had also been replaced during my transformation, but my memories, emotions and thoughts still remained. These made me who I am – I was still me. I needed to believe that I was a person – not just a person but the person I had been before I changed. My memories and emotions had to be more than an echo from a human person that no longer exists. I needed to believe this. I needed to convince myself that I did not die when I transformed.

I hoped it was true.

What are you thinking about? Michael asked. He frequently asked me my thoughts. I was not one to spit out my every thought to the world. If anything, I had a tendency to live entirely inside my head. For many years I was all alone, my inner thoughts were my only companion. That had changed over the past four or five years when I developed close friends. But nothing had prepared me for the dramatic change that happened to me when I fell in love. Michael changed my world. He constantly challenged my retreat into myself and forced me to be with him in the here and now.

I was enjoying our physical contact and thinking how wonderful my life has become. Just a few months ago my world held my mother, and Sally and Bill, my two college friends. That wasn’t a large circle of loved ones, yet it kept me, oh I don’t know, together. Then you showed up in my life and I’ve gained a place in the universe, a new loving family replete with two sisters and a sometimes annoying brother. I have even learned to love his antics - but don’t you dare tell him that. There would be no living with him.

You have my solemn promise, my love.

And the most wonderful gift the universe bestowed on me was the love of my life - you.

Then why the distant look and the sadness? Michael asked again. I understood the expression that must have been on my face. I projected my inner most thoughts constantly, although never intending to. I was reluctant to share the reason for that look he spotted, not even to myself.

Oh, that. Well it really isn’t anything I should be worried about, I said.

Possibly, but I will not know unless you tell me.

I know, you are right. I’m just not good at expressing unformed thoughts and ideas. What I’m thinking about is not even up to the half formed stage. It is more a passing concern, I said.

Michael didn’t respond. He was waiting for me to tell him my inner wisp of unease.

Oh, alright. Now hear me out before you laugh at me or tell me I’m totally wrong.

Very well.

You know Ambassadors for the collective are essentially angels working for the betterment of humankind and the advancement of the source of life on Earth – the collective, essentially heaven?

The correlation is understandable given our involvement during early Judeo-Christianity.

Then you know the name of an angel who is independent from God? I asked.

"You are talking about the archaic concept of the devil?

Yes.

Given you are independent from the collective’s control, are you seriously thinking you are the devil? Michael asked.

No, well … yes … not exactly. I know I do fit some, not many, but some of the definitions of the devil. I know I’m not evil or anything like that. What worries me is not that I’m actually the devil, more that I could be inching my way away from humanity and that would bring me closer to being evil. I have taken human lives and I know I will do so again. I will only take someone’s life when absolutely necessary. Regardless, I’ve seen certain elements of my humanity drip away. I know I’m not the innocent girl I was just a few months ago. I’m a little afraid that at some point there will be nothing left of who I was. What if I change so completely that I am no longer the woman you fell in love with?

I closed my eyes. I knew I couldn’t handle Michael’s loving gaze into my soul, into the fear I just shared. His love would help me through this, if I let him – if I let him completely in. I did want him to wash away this festering wound, why did I retreat from his love.

Open your eye and look at me, he demanded in a soft kind voice.

No! I said stubbornly, yet I still complied. I was being childish. I slowly opened my eyes, not looking at him, not yet. He put his finger under my chin and lifted my head so I had to see him.

The moment our eyes met, a whimper escaped. I couldn’t hold it back. I tried so hard to be brave all the time. I didn’t want to show him the little girl who was still inside of me, who hid from the world and was scared to face the burden of saving the world. I just couldn’t hide it away a moment longer. I buried my face in his chest, wrapped my arms around him and held him as tightly as I could. If I could cry, if I had the ability to make tears, they would have been streaming down my face.

I rejoined the world of rational thought a few moments later. Michael was gently caressing my head and back. He whispered to me soft reassurances. I pulled away from him and put back on my brave face.

Feeling any better? he asked.

Yes.

Now can I tell you, you will not lose your humanity and there is nothing you could do that would make me stop loving you.

I smiled slightly at that sentiment because I knew Michael believed it with all his heart. I hoped he was right, that we would be together forever and he would always love me. But I was not convinced as Michael was. I could still turn into something unrecognizable as the human Jessica – into something devoid of all humanity.

Michael told me that the very fact of my being concerned about losing my humanity was itself proof that it would never happen. He said, wanting to hold onto humanity meant I had a desire to be good. Such a desire could ever turn bad. Therefor I would always remain good. I don’t know that I full believed his somewhat circular logic, but I hoped it was true.

Thank you. I knew those words were a poor offering of thanks for his being my love and helping me through the pressures of becoming an independent Ambassador and tasked with helping to strengthen the symbiosis of life on Earth. No words or actions could ever come close to repaying him for the love and support he provides me each and every day.

I had to admit I did feel better. I took his reassurance with me as I headed back into my innermost sanctum of doubt. I knew I had changed and I would continue to change. Power affects people. The amount of power I had gained in such a short time already changed me. The additional power I would likely wield after I changed yet again, would affect me still more. I would try my very best to retain as much of my humanity as possible. Michael had managed to hold onto some of his and he has been an Ambassador for fifteen hundred years. There may be hope for me yet.

Would you like to work on some clothes that can shift with you? Michael offered.

Yes of course I would, I said. I definitely needed trans-dimensional clothes. Without them, when I shifted to the collective and back to any place on Earth, I would return naked. I transformed my cells from having a miniscule amount of mitochondria, to being made completely of mitochondria. This allowed me to shift dimensionally. I could do the same with cloths. Take material that is all natural and expand the mitochondria to form the complete object, thus becoming trans-dimensional.

But I thought we needed a tailor or something? For the all-natural part, not the converting the cells to be fully trans-dimensional – I can do that part. I asked.

Yes and no. A tailor would be better and we can ask my friend at the dress boutique, where you purchased Megan's dress, for assistance. However, it is still the middle of the night, and his shop will not open for hours. For right now we can make at least one outfit for you. Just pick out one of your mostly natural material outfits. We just have to remove the stitching, which is always synthetic, and re-stitch it using all natural fiber. I have the stitching material here and a sewing machine. It will only take a few hours.

We can do that? Well, I guess we can. I would like that - then we wouldn’t have to wait until morning.

It also provides us with a good activity for these few quiet hours, Michael said.

I ran upstairs and picked out a good all-purpose outfit that was all cotton. This brought a raise of De’s head, but it was still night and she quickly fell back to sleep. In rummaging through many outfits I had purchased during my shopping spree with Hera, I noticed many were made of all natural materials. I wondered if she had factored that in when she made these selections for me. I picked out a single outfit and brought my choice downstairs to Michael.

My choice! That brought me back to my earlier thoughts. Choice was a sensitive subject for me. All that had happened to me had been done mostly to me, without any consideration as to if I would have chosen this path for myself. In fact, I was created through a three hundred year human breading program. None of my ancestors had a choice or even knowledge of this program. The breading program ended with my creation. I have become an Ambassador - apparently the only independent Ambassador ever to exist. Now I am entirely free to follow my own course, my own direction. All other Ambassadors have no free-will in relation to the commands of the collective. Funny how I’m supposedly independent, but I don’t feel truly free, not in the least.

Michael had the tools out and ready for us to create my first trans-dimensional outfit. I was looking forward to being able to sift anywhere in the world with Michael.

We worked together in deconstructing my dress. When it was all apart, Michael pinned it back together and I starting carefully using the sewing machine to turn the scraps of fabric back into a dress.

Once the outfit was sewn together, I asked Michael, How would this work? The cells in the cotton of this dress are long since dead, only the husk of the cell remains – there’s no mitochondria in them for me to control.

This step in the process was not something I had ever done before.

You are correct, there is no cellular mitochondria left and because of that we, Ambassadors, can make clothes that can shift with us.

You lost me.

When an Ambassador is made, it is the collective who changes their cells to have their own mitochondria inhabit the entire space of the human cells. Because it is the collective who does this, they have direct control over the Ambassador. Well most Ambassadors except for you of course.

And the change to clothes is different?

Yes, as you figured out, there are no mitochondria to control or manipulate. So to make clothes, an Ambassador must touch the material and have their own mitochondria inhabit the remnants of the old cells. Once that is accomplished the mitochondria can be instructed to burn off the cells and expand into their shape. That is how your clothes will shift with you and only with you.

It’s also likely why we can’t have closets full of clothes – we would not want to be separated from that much of our own mitochondria.

Exactly.

I touched the fabric and asked my mitochondria to inhibit the old cells of the material and fully replace it. They didn’t know what I was asking of them at first. Heck, I didn’t really know what I was asking. After a few tries, I eventually hit upon the correct image in my mind and the mitochondria responded. The dress lost almost all its shape and then reformed. The new shape, size and color were almost the same as the original. There was a residue of the old cotton cells on the table where the dress had been transformed. I removed the dress and cleaned the spot before it ruined Michael’s table. He would not care about his table, but I did.

It was time to test this out. I stripped off my clothes and put on this new outfit. I didn’t bother to go upstairs to change. Being naked in front of Michael wasn’t a concern any longer, we were well past any need for modesty. I was pleased the outfit still fit me. I thought we did a reasonably good job in putting the dress back together.

I tested it out, just to make sure. I shifted to the collective and back to the parlor where Michael and De were waiting for me. Good, I was still clothed. I sat myself in Michael’s lap and gave him a kiss.

I slid off of his lap and came to rest beside him. On his other side slept De. She apparently was very use to Michael shifting in and out, she didn’t even bother to wake up. In fact, I was only gone for a few seconds, hardly enough time to even know I had left.

Michael started to discuss the events of the previous evening. There had been a good many things that had transpired and we really had to figure out our next steps. I stopped him before he mentioned any specific theories. Our privacy could not be assured. All Ambassadors can partially shift. If we stay nearly fully in the collective and think about a location on Earth, we see and hear what is occurring at that spot. So Michael and I could have been overheard if we said anything here in our home.

I thought for a few minutes before coming up with a solution, I figured out a perfect place to go.

Do you remember where we went for our first date? I asked.

Of course I do,

Let’s go there right now.

You know it is closed and there’s really no need for either of us to go there at all, he said. No need because the place was a very fancy restaurant and neither of us eats food. We receive our energy when we remain in the collective for any length of time.

Yes I know, but please humor me. Shift there and I’ll be right behind you, I said.

Michael agreed and shifted out. He was going. I shift a moment later.

Once I arrive at the empty restaurant, Michael was the first to speak, So can you tell me why we are here?

I gave him a kiss. It’s always good to start any serious discussion off with a kiss or two. I kissed him a third time - I really did love him. Although we have only known each other for a few months, it feels like we were always meant to be together.

Yes, I figured you would be wondering about my sudden desire to revisit the place of our first date, I admitted to him.

You are a bit of a romantic, but this was much even for you.

Hey, I am so way up there on romantic scale - not just ‘a bit’ as you put it. But you are right. I’m not here for the sake of nostalgia. Given Phanes could have been observing us at the house, I figured it would be best to be able to talk about her and our set some plans where we could not be observed.

Excellent idea. She does not know where we had our first date.

Precisely.

Back at the house I was going to comment about what the collective had set up as a goal for us. It certainly seems like a monumental task, Michael said.

I know – totally over the top. Hold on, I have an idea that will help. Hand me the salt shakers from those tables, I ask. I had an idea, something that would help me frame my thoughts. Michael handed me the shakes. I dumped out the contents of one shaker on the table next to us.

I assume you have a reason for playing with five salt shakers and one pepper? Michael asked.

I sure do. I think it is helping already. You know in old cowboy movies, the good guys had the white hats and the outlaws had black hats?

Not really, but I can go with it.

Good, now look at this. Let’s say the table platform and the wooden top is the collective. The tablecloth is the Earth. The Earth gets its form and value from the collective, as the tablecloth gets its form and value from the wooden structure below it.

I am following you.

Good. Now these four salt shakers are you, Hera, Dion and me. We all are white because hey we are the good guys, I said and smiled at Michael. He gave me a wink in return. Probably that wink said he wasn’t all that good. But then again, neither was I.

This empty salt shaker represents Phanes. We don’t know what she is, so I don’t have her filled with either salt or pepper at this point. Way over here on the other side of the table is the pepper.

Khobaan?

Yes, Khobaan. He is bad so his hat is black.

Good, I like where you are heading with this.

Now here is what we know and have tried to accomplish so far. I crinkled up the tablecloth around Khobaan. All messed up because he is disrupting human enlightenment because he thinks it will weaken the wooden table below. I’m sure if the collective were truly threatened, it would not allow Khobaan to succeed. So I just know what he’s doing isn’t really going to work. The tablecloth really can’t mess up the collective. The messed up tablecloth is essentially what this is all about. The collective has not exercised control over Ambassadors for hundreds of years. Khobaan and possibly some other Ambassadors don’t want the controlling collective to return. Khobaan is attempting to weaken the collective by harming its source of energy, namely human enlightenment.

I agree. I also do not believe Khobaan poses any real threat to the collective. Michael said.

So here is what we staged. I moved the four salts and one empty together. Dion, in front of us all, made a show of killing me. I knock one of the shakers over. Everyone is upset. Dion leaves and a then Phanes leaves to go to find him. I move the empty shaker and Dion’s salt shaker to different tables. I get up and am OK. Now this accomplished a few things. I take the salt shaker that is Dion and wrap a black napkin around it and place it next to the Khobaan pepper shaker. I have just made Phanes think Dion is black pepper just like Khobaan. Now Khobaan will think Dion is a kindred spirit by one of three sources. Phanes could be in contact with Khobaan and tell him of Dion’s actions. Dion may be able tell Khobaan directly, or Khobaan will learn of our trying to find Dion because of Dion’s attempt on my life. So by some means Khobaan will find out Dion is a pepper, I said wrapping up my analogy.

And with a shrouded Dion looking like pepper, he may be able to learn from Khobaan how he is disrupting the tablecloth. That way we can find a way to flatten it out and improve it.

I laughed. OK, this may be a bit of a stretch as far as analogies go. When you summed it up like that it sounds a bit silly.

On the contrary, it was a very accurate representation as to where we are right now.

Good. I know the first thing we have to do, but not much beyond that. We have to let Phanes know I’m alive. If I don’t call her and pretend I put on that show of being vulnerable because I suspected Dion, then she may think I suspected her. She may also think Dion may have been in on the act. So I have to call her. It is the only way to keep the shroud around Dion.

That is very reasonable. After that we have to do more work in find out about the disrupted tablecloth. Michael made it even more messed up than I had. We must not solely rely on Dion figuring it out. He may not be able to gain Khobaan’s confidence, even if Dion appears to be a pepper.

I gave a chuckle – it sounded so silly when he put it that way. I totally agree. All we have done set the stage, casts the players if you will. There is so much more to do. Our first step has to be finding a way for all of us to meet: you, Dion, Hera and me. After that we can start to create a plan of action. I especially want to hear Hera’s thoughts about all of this. I know she will have already come up with some ideas of her own.

Hera is at least as old as Michael. She is brilliant and disarming in her effusive affections. Although, I hadn’t seen much of it, both Dion and Michael say she can be ruthless when necessary. I have mostly seen her affectionate side, she is all kisses, hugs and bounciness. I have learned not to mistake her kisses for flightiness. She knows exactly what is going on all the time. She figures out everything minutes, if not hours before everyone else, and then spends her time with affection while she waits for the rest of us to catch up to her.

We do have a place for all of us to meet, Michael replied. Prior to our meeting at my house, we would meet over the centuries in a very lovely spot that overlooks an old Austrian village.

Can we reach Dion and Hera without letting on where we are going or that we are inviting Dion? I asked.

I believe so. I can call Hera and be cryptic. I have no doubt Dion will know that is our likely meeting place and will go there as often as he can.

Goodie, I blurted out with a bit of a giggle. This had been one of my big concerns - how to proceed with making plans without being observed by Phanes. My family having a meeting place was a bit relief.

Goodie?

Hey, I’m still a girl - even if I’m an all-powerful super Ambassador, I said. I then thought about all of the changes Michael has had to make because I have entered his life. Thank you for being my, well - everything and putting up with me. I know it hasn’t always been easy.

You are welcome. You are my everything as well.

I jumped up to give him a hug and knocked over the table with all the salt shakers. I went to release him to clean up the mess had I made, but Michael stopped me. The restaurant has people to clean that up.

I worked in a restaurant, that person would have been me. I really should…

You are not that person any longer. You are the most powerful being on Earth, you can’t clean up every mess or fix every problem, Michael said holding me from bending. He was trying to make a point more than about just some spilt salt.

He was right of course. I may very well be the most powerful being on Earth and I could not fix everything. Yet he was also wrong. I hoped I would never became so focused on my power that I wouldn’t try to clean up a mess when I could, especially when I was the one who cause it in the first place. Even if that mess were a pile of salt and saltshakers on the floor.

I picked up the spilled salt and made the area look as best as possible before we shifted back to the living room. De raised her head but was not alarmed. Although this shifting places was new for me, De was accustom to Michael shifting in an out.

There’s no time like the present, I said to myself. I dialed Phanes telephone number. I was as ready as I would ever be to put on a good act. No answer, it went to voicemail.

Hi Phanes, it’s me Jessica. Shift over to Michael’s house when you can. I took the steps to become fully trans-dimensional a day early as I had some suspicions about Dion. Good thing I did. Have you had any luck in tracking him down? Talk to you soon. Bye.

How was that? I asked.

Good, one task down. It is late enough, or should I say early enough in the day, for my friend to have opened his dress shop. We can put in a few orders for clothes for you and then see if… Michael paused, see about accomplishing our next step.

Works for me, but I think De has some requirements of her own. Let’s take her for a walk first.

We fed De her breakfast and took her for a nice long walk. I loved our walks. I loved sharing my time with her and experiencing this little portion of nature right in Michael’s back yard. These simple things helped keep me grounded. Without them, the magnitude of what I faced would have been overwhelming.

With De all set for a few hours, our next goal was that of the dress shop and some new clothes for me. I was about to shift there when Michael suggests we try shifting together. I had only shifted a few times and never with someone else, this was new for me. I naturally agreed, I liked trying new things and I trusted Michael completely.

Michael took my hand and said, Now I’ll take the lead, once we are in the collective just think about me and you should sense my presence with you. I will direct us to a secluded area outside of the dress shop where we will step through.

Sounds good, I’m willing to try. Will I feel you holding my hand when we are both in the collective?

No, but sense me is a more appropriate description of the experience. When you are thinking about me you should know I am with you and also understand where I intend us to go. Also, when we first shift, do not try to remain here. Just relax and let me pull you to the collective.

OK - lead the way. I held on to his hand a bit more tightly than perhaps was needed. I didn’t want to lose contact.

At first I didn’t feel anything. Then came a pull, Michael was trying to shift. It felt like he was trying to pull away from me, not take me with him. I held on to his hand even more tightly.

We were not going anywhere - still in the living room after a few seconds. Something had gone wrong. I must have prevented him from shifting. I didn’t feel like I was trying to stay fixed here, but maybe I was. Perhaps I needed to help the process a little bit – I needed to agree to go to the collective. I thought about going and I was immediately taken to it.

I couldn’t feel or sense Michael with me at all. I thought about him has strongly as I could and still didn’t pick up any feeling that he was with me in the collective. I figured our bond or tie had been broken. There was no doubt in my mind that I had lost Michael somewhere either back home or he was in the collective somewhere very far from me – far enough that I couldn’t sense him.

I had two options, I could go to the dress shop and see if he were there or go back to the living room. I decided to go back to the living room. That seemed like a more logical place to re-group than a downtown sidewalk.

I arrived back in the living room, stepping out of the collective and stood beside the sofa. Michael was there - either back again or he never left.

Hi Honey, I said when I arrived. Well that didn’t seem to work the way I expected.

No indeed, He said. What happened?

I don’t know exactly, I could feel you leaving me so I held on to you tighter than before. When neither of us sifted, I figured I might have inadvertently prevented us from moving, so I let myself shift to the collective and I lost you.

I had a strange experience, I could feel you preventing me from shifting and then a moment later you were gone. And that is strange because while touching you, you should not have been able to shift without me.

Hmm, this is strange. How about we go to our second date location and test out a few different things, I suggested. I knew he would understand right away. I didn’t want to have this discussion of my abilities here in the house. I sifted first. I arrive at the park, to nearly the exact spot where we spread out our blanket for our second date. Michael joined me a moment later.

This not being able to talk and try things out at our house is a pain in the ass. I said.

I know what you mean - privacy is a rare commodity in our world.

Why I stopped you from saying more is I wanted to figure out the extent of my ability without Phanes or Khobaan knowing. It is one thing if we failed in this joint shift because I messed up, but quite another thing if the reason is because there’s something different about me.

We already know you are certainly very different, Michael said.

Hey!

I mean that in a good way, Michael said and gave me a kiss on the top of my head.

So how do we find out why it didn’t work? I asked.

Oh, that should be simple enough, I will try to keep you from shifting back to the collective and you try to leave. That should give us a clue as to how different you are.

OK - hold on tightly and let me know when you want me to try to leave.

Michael and I were standing. He took hold of my wrist and said, I am holding on now - give it a try.

I could feel him holding on as I thought of going to the collective but he was only a very minor drag, like walking in soft sand instead of on grass, not as easy but not really an issue. I was in the collective alone, nothing unusual about that. I thought about the area I just left in the park and I stepped out. I saw Michael sitting on the grass.

Are you OK? I asked. I didn’t understand why he had fallen down.

I will be, He replied.

What happened, why are you hurt?

I do not believe it is such a good idea to attempt to stop you from shifting. The pull you exhibited was much stronger than any Ambassador I have ever held before.

I’m so very sorry - I didn’t mean to hurt you.

Oh, I know. It is very good to know your abilities. I have to say, you do have some very special abilities.

Ah, thanks. As long as you are going to be OK.

Yes, certainly. It takes more than a powerful pull to do any real damage.

I’m sure I’ll find some way to make this up to you, I said giving him a kiss and helping him up.

Let us try something else. I think I am ready to start again, Michael said.

Are you really sure? We can try this another day, I asked. I was a bit reluctant to push him after the last attempt.

I am fine now.

Then I would love to see if I can prevent you from shifting.

OK, do you want to hold my hand or use your Extra’ness for this?

Let’s try my Extra’ness, without touching, first and if that doesn't work then I can physically hold on to you and we can try again. I stood a few feet away from Michael and made a connection with him. OK, I think I’m ready. I’m figuratively holding onto you tightly. Give it a try, I said.

I could see him trying to shift, trying to pull away from me. I maintained my connection with him. It took every bit of mental focus I had to hold him in place. I had to continually project the intent that he not leave. It appeared to be working. He was trying to pull away and not able to. I could feel the pull. I expended a good deal of energy keeping him there.

No, nothing - I tried my very best, Michael said. I could go nowhere.

Cool.

Sure, cool for you. It is not a very pleasant experience to try to sift to the collective and not be able to.

Would some more kisses help? I said as I gave him a few to let him know I loved him.

OK, so if you are up for one more test, I would like to take you to the collective and then to a location. Essentially what we tried back at the house, only in reverse - I’ll take the lead, I suggested.

Sure I will take hold of your wrist, Michael said.

Ready?

Sure am, holding on tightly.

I thought of going to the collective but also thought about bring Michael along with me. I was immediately taken to the collective. I knew this experiment had worked - I couldn’t see Michael but I knew he was beside me. I felt every bit of him, every cell comprising his form, was there beside me. I liked this. Being in the collective I was in a warm and peaceful ‘place’; being here with Michael made it even more special.

I brought to mind the dress shop and the sidewalk outside. I saw it was more crowded than would be good to just appear out of thin air. I decided to look inside the shop. I spotted a secluded area where nobody would see us appear. I stepped into that spot while still holding onto Michael.

That seemed to have worked, I said to Michael as we stood beside each other behind a clothing rack.

Yes but what was that?

What was what? I asked.

Where we went between the park and here?

You mean the collective?

Is that what you call the collective? Michael asked.

Sure - isn’t it what you experience when you go to the collective?

No, the collective is teeming with countless lives, experiences. It holds the light of nearly unlimited number of mitochondria. That place you took us was very different.

How so?

Your collective is also filled with mitochondria. Yet somehow the mitochondria there is undifferentiated. Like they have never been to Earth, never been part of a living cell here. In the collective I’ve experienced, all the mitochondria have been to Earth and recycled countless times.

Strange. Your collective sounds so different than what the collective is for me. I experience it as a wonderfully warm and inviting experience, but nothing else. I just figured it was the same for all of us.

Not in the least. That was a very unusual experience. I wonder what it is, and why it is so different from our experience. Then Michael said, You certainly are special my dear.

Thanks - you know how much I just love being different. I didn’t love being different at all. It was the one thing I hated most.

You know what I mean.

Yes I do, I told him, But sometimes I wish I wasn’t so very different. It’s one thing to be an Ambassador, I mean that’s strange enough, but why do I have to be different from every other Ambassador?

Different isn’t a bad thing.

That’s easy for you to say, you’re not the one who’s different.

Michael tilted his head and looked at me without saying a word. He didn’t have to. I was being bratty and self-centered.

Sorry, I offered.

So what do you say we find a few outfits for you to wear?

Deal.

I stopped myself after picking out three new outfits. I didn’t want to get too carried away. In a store like this, that’s way too easy to do. I picked out one that would be for formal affairs, one that was business appropriate but still dressy. The last one was casual, something I could walk De around the yard, or hang around the house. Michael arranged to be billed for the purchases. It wasn’t like we could carry cash or credit cards with us as we shifted around the world.

Chapter 02: Family Meeting

Before we left the store, Michael used the owner’s office phone to call Hera. I assumed he didn’t want to call her later from our house – not wanting to risk Phanes overhearing where we are meeting. Although I heard Michael set up the meeting with Hera, I had no idea where it was to take place. He asked Hera to meet us at the cave. Could he really have meant a real cave or was cave a euphemism for something entirely different? I remember Michael saying they met in a lovely spot that overlooked an old Austrian village. To me that meant a villa or chalet, certainly not a dark and damp cave.

After we left the boutique, through the front door, we walked for a few minutes and window-shopped. I found myself spending more time watching people who walk by us than at the wares on display behind the panes of glass. Some people were alone, others with friends, business associates, family or loved ones. Everyone appeared to be on a mission to get from where they had been to where they were going. Some walked with determination, intent on reaching their destination quickly. Their stride and facial expressions told the world they were focused on their goal and did not want to be distracted.

I was more fascinated by the other type of pedestrians, the ones who may still have had a destination but seemed to enjoy the process of getting there. These people stopped to look in the windows, talk to the person beside them and even offer a friendly comment to a complete stranger who happened to cross their path.

I pretended Michael and I were just like any pair of these people walking down the street. We were going about our lives just as they were. We could be worried about paying our bills, worried about our jobs or having some concerns over a relative or something. Or we were very happy, having just fallen in love, or found out we were accepted into college, or even that we were blessed by the arrival of a new baby. None of that could be in store for Michael and me. We would never be normal or average people. I sometimes wished we could be like those people who walked by. None of them had the weight of saving the human race on their shoulders.

Is Hera waiting for us at the cave? I asked.

Yes, was all Michael said.

I didn’t know how Michael was going to take me to this cave of his. I could take Michael anywhere I wanted to go, but he couldn’t take me. And I didn’t know where this place was. I couldn’t figure out how we were going to get there, given I can take Michael with me when I shift, but he couldn’t do the same with me.

I was about to ask him how we could work around this little problem, when he started walking down a side street. One turn later and he escorted me into an office supply store. Michael walked us over to a row of laptops all with Wi-Fi and Internet connectivity. He typed for a moment and many images appeared on the screen. He scrolled through until he saved off a couple pictures. Looking over his shoulder, I saw some the images he saved - then I understood what he was doing and why he was doing this here. He didn’t want to use one of our home computers in the event we were observed.

Ah, now I have all I need. Or more precisely I have all you need, Michael said as he opened the saved images. The first picture was that of a very lovely little village. Next he showed me a map