Evolution of Love: Return to Etum

By Jeffrey Aita

Michael finds himself suddenly President of the United States with the Earth on the brink of destruction. He and his wife, Eve, embark on a quest to undo an ancient wrong, rid the planet of an evil organization and return Earth and its inhabitants to the paradise it once was. In order to do this, they must first go on a treacherous journey, tuto

• Language: English
• Publisher: Palmetto Publishing
• Release date: Nov 9, 2020
• ISBN: 9781649904768

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

I

marched across the barren desert with my wife, our two young children, the ghost of an ancient shaman that only we could see, and even more ancient priests and hundreds of thousands of other people from around the planet. They were of all faiths, colors, and nationalities. Those millions, perhaps billions, of people around the world who couldn't make it were now on their knees, praying fervently, meditating, sending love across the planet. Mankind was on the cusp, and I, the newly sworn-in President of the United States, had just gone all in. Either it worked or it didn't. Upon its success, I had bet the future of mankind, my life, and the lives of the people I loved the most. But it was worth it. I knew one way or another; we were on our way to planetary change. I couldn't accept the other possibility, so with no choice and a profound belief in the power of love, we marched on towards a deciding point just moments away.

This newest escalation in my life's adventure had started just a few weeks ago. I awoke that morning without the slightest idea that my world—no, in fact, the whole world—was about to change drastically. I shouldn't have been surprised, considering the things that had happened in the last eight years. I had gone from a lonely, relatively successful chiropractor practicing in the mountains of North Carolina to the Vice President of the United States, married to my soul mate, and having had two beautiful children. How I got there is an amazing story; what was about to happen was the beginning of a journey that would dwarf that experience, an adventure that would test our courage and our belief in the power of love.

That morning, I had gone for a hike on the five-thousand-acre tract of land that my wife's family owned. I had married into probably the wealthiest family on the planet. My wife's sort of niece, Marcia, was married to a tech billionaire, Diamond Jim Thompson, and he was poor compared to my wife and her brother. The difference was their wealth was well concealed. They came from old money, and when I say old, I mean ancient, for as long as there has been money. Money was never an issue in my campaigns or in my personal life, just not an issue. Some people might have become jaded by that wealth; I, on the other hand, had the experience of meeting my father-in-law, Mason, the wisest man I had ever known. Though we only knew each other for way too short a time before he left, he had changed me forever. His lessons had formed the character of this entire family. He taught all who would listen that love and service to your fellow man were ultimately more important than wealth, fame, or power. Those lessons were to guide us through changes and challenges that would ultimately bring us to that walk in the desert.

On that fateful day, I decided to hike in an entirely new direction across a mountaintop. My insistence that I hike alone made the Secret Service agents assigned to me very nervous, to say the least. They actually forbade me from hiking alone. That's why I snuck out a door to a hidden tunnel in the back of our closet that went into a gulley behind the house. We had conveniently forgotten to report this escape route to the Secret Service agents. The gulley continued up the side of the mountain, totally hidden by the forest's thick underbrush.

I looked forward to those walks even before becoming Vice President. It was during those walks that I could calm my mind and refocus on the family's mission. It was on those walks that I felt the presence of Mason and sensed his wise words. You see, that family I had married into was related to a group of priests from Atlantis. These men had tried to save Utopia but failed when the black-robed ones, the scientists, decided that they should be gods and attempted to turn the peoples of this world into their slaves. Back then, they had started an assault on this planet that in recent years was reaping its harvest. Temperatures were soaring, icepacks were melting, sea levels were rising, and storms were raging. Diseases flourished, autism was exploding, starvation was rampant, and extinctions were happening at a terrifying record pace. In fact, mankind was imminently in danger of becoming extinct itself. It was as if Mother Earth was poised to remove her offending agent, as if her immune response had been invoked. All this was done so that a few men and women could amass huge sums of money and garner amazing powers that manipulated even the freest of nations. My country was on the brink of becoming a totalitarian state. These actions had been orchestrated by Mason's deranged brother, Chronos himself, a black-robed scientist.

The only ray of hope I had seen recently was the election of Robert Stillson, a truly remarkable man. The people were beginning to get a sense that they had been duped by a massively powerful and wealthy group of people. These people owned the media. They controlled all advertisement. They told the people what they should be thinking. None of it was true, and yet enough people bought it. If you tell them lies long enough and loud enough, the masses will buy anything. They threw them an occasional bone of some meaningless freedom. They manufactured some distraction or something to be afraid of, so the people failed to notice they were being screwed. The people willingly gave up freedom in exchange for the illusion of security against some manufactured threat. Their favorite choice to control the people was war. They often pitted their own people willingly, sacrificing them to keep the masses under control. They preferred that method; it not only consolidated the masses under some absurd patriotism, but in the long run, it helped to control the population growth that they had long ago noticed was becoming a problem, a problem that could eventually take them down. Pointing this out had gotten him elected, but it had also made him the number one target of their focused malintent.

That's how I had become Vice President. I wasn't his running mate; Melissa Parker was. While Robert Stillson was vocal, Melissa was rabid. She was constantly providing fodder for the news. Social media had taken away some of the power of mass media as now ordinary people could report stories that could go viral. They could also, unfortunately, make up fake news. Those in power were losing control, and Melissa was rapidly becoming a rock star. She was mobilizing liberals, moderates, and, more importantly, the youth who were feeling more and more the victims, more and more disenfranchised by the upper one percent of the people who controlled ninety-five percent of the wealth. The young people saw no future, no hope of the American dream.

A week prior to that hike, Melissa Parker had died; they tried to say it was an unfortunate auto accident. The official report was that the car in which she and two of her Secret Service agents were in had blown a tire and driven off the road into a river. Riots raged across the country; conspiracy theories abounded. No one, especially me, believed the accident explanation. It was most assuredly the work of Chronos's people. Everyone was sure it was murder, an assassination, and the country was on the verge of all-out revolution, a civil war. My appointment and approval restored some calm. Even those against me knew I was the right choice. I was seen as a candidate for the people for the very people who were on edge. I was a bone being thrown to the masses. Someone, those in power, felt they could better control me as Vice President. I championed bills for LGBTQ, for immigrants, the environment, gun control, and education.

Seven years earlier, I had won my election to Congress, mainly due to the news stories of my heroic act when I leaped into the freezing water of the French Board river to save Marcia and her infant son. It also helped that Mason's network of friends and supporters rivaled Chronos's. It was their influence in my freshman years in Congress and the wealth of my family that allowed me to change the state of North Carolina. I had brought businesses into the state, creating tens of thousands of good jobs that dropped the unemployment rate to record lows. I used the influence and money to revamp the educational systems in the entire state, raising the grades and graduation rates to the top in the country. I talked several major universities into offering free tuition to students, thanks to their absurd endowments. I was popular, very popular. It didn't hurt my popularity to have a drop-dead gorgeous wife, who was not only beautiful but charming and brilliant. Her work on women's rights had made her popular with the women, and the men, as always, were putty in her hands. Our two kids, Adam, who was five, and his three-year-old sister Lara were constantly stealing the show. We were a picture-perfect family.

When the Senate seat was up for election, I ran, and despite being a liberal in a swing state, I won the election by a landslide. It was this popularity that made me the ideal candidate to replace Melissa. It was an appointment that I could not refuse. After all, the end game Mason had designed was to make me President, a job I wasn't sure I really wanted. The stress of the job was something I was not well suited for. As soon as I could, I came home to our mountain retreat to gather my thoughts. I knew the best place to do that was a hike alone in the old forest that surrounds our home. Those trees seem to exude a mystical energy

So, as the Secret Service watched the doors, I snuck through the secret door, out the tunnel and into the gorge without being detected. No small trick, mind you.

I had walked these mountain trails many times over the last few years and knew them well. I decided to stay off the main trails knowing that the Secret Service were likely monitoring them very closely. The attack on Melissa was desperate, and now I was likely in their sights. I hiked up a rather steep incline hanging onto a rock outcropping and ancient trees that towered into the sky to reach the apex. The view was fantastic; the distant mountains were hued in a blueish mist that had given the mountains their name. If you looked closely, you could see hints of redbuds waiting to burst forth and welcome spring. In an occasionally sunny spot, the white of early dogwood trees could be seen as they too announced spring's arrival.

All the paths led downhill from my perch. I was deciding which way I should head when I heard the cry of an eagle. It swooped over my head circled twice, then dove into a valley filled with a faint white mist, a mist that begged to be explored. That ended the conversation in my head; the eagle had pointed the way. I had been taught by Mason to believe in synchronicities; this was no coincidence—it was a message. No sooner than I had made that decision, I saw an image in my mind of Mason smiling. That sealed the deal. That's where my hike was going to take me that day.

I was making my way down the incline. I reached a rock outcropping and walked to its edge to ascertain if I could get down that way. The massive boulder was carpeted with a reddish-green moss that was moist from the mist that filled the valley. As I stepped towards the edge, the moss broke loose; I lost my footing and fell off the rock. I slammed into the ground and started to roll, head over heels, down the side of the mountain, only to be stopped by my head and shoulders whacking a tree. I saw flashes of light for the briefest of seconds before I sank into a deep blackness.

In the blackness, I saw clear images of Mason shaking his head in disapproval. I distinctly heard him say, We can't be careless on this mission; the time is right; the stars are in place. Our work is about to reach fruition.

I was pulled from the dark void by the sound of a disembodied voice. Son, son, are you all right? A sudden splash of cold water startled me awake.

The world was blurred and still spinning as I fought to open my eyes. As my vision cleared before me, I saw what appeared to be an old man, a Native American, with a long gray ponytail. His face was etched with wrinkles like the gorges cutting through a desert, suggesting a lot of time in the sun and a lot of years of life. But I was drawn to his dark, coal-black eyes. They seemed somehow familiar, as if I should know him, as if we had a strong connection. His eyes were deep and loving. He seemed to exude a presence that I had not felt since Mason left. He reached out gently and placed his hands on my head, and the world immediately stopped spinning. I felt my whole body relax as I sighed.

You took quite a fall there, son, he said as he examined my head closer. You should be more careful out here; hiking alone can be dangerous.

I looked around and mustered a smile. It would appear you are out here hiking alone too. If it's dangerous for me, it must be even more for a man of your age.

He looked startled, as if the idea that he might be old was new to him. I'm old? he asked, patting himself down like he was inspecting himself. Not waiting for a response, he added, Well, age isn't important since time isn't really real, at least according to Einstein.

Puzzled and still struggling to regather my wits, I asked, Who are you?

He smiled a big, toothy grin and replied, Well, at my advanced age, I have been called many different names. Some not so flattering and others… well others that you should avoid in church. My mother called me one thing, my wife different things, depending on whether we were arguing or making love. My friends had a nickname; my tribe called me still another name. But seeing as I'm here now with you, why don't you just call me Nate? It seems appropriate in your case.

Slightly confused and amused, I reached out my hand, and he took it. Well, Nate, I'm Michael, and I'd like to thank you for helping me.

No problem, he said, pulling me to my feet. But what are you doing out here in the old forest all alone?

As I dusted off my jeans and tested my balance, I replied, I was out walking, trying to clear my head and see if I could connect to the source, my innate.

Nate nodded his head, Well, there is no better place to connect to the source than in these ancient forests, then with his face lighting up into a huge smile added, and it would seem that you have connected to a Nate.

I had to chuckle, Well, that is a coincidence.

Nate's forehead wrinkled quizzically, You believe in coincidences? Not me. Must be a message here somewhere.

Still trying to recover my wits, I scanned Nate, looking him up and down. He was dressed in jeans and cowboy boots. He had on a red plaid flannel shirt, worn from much use, and around his waist in an old hand-beaded belt was a well-worn medicine bag with a hand-carved flute tucked into the other side. What are you doing here? I asked.

Here? he asked, pointing at the magnificent trees surrounding us. This is where I live.

You live here? I asked incredulously. But this is my land, I protested.

I beg to differ, son, he responded. No one owns the land. We only borrow it from our children.

I smiled and said, Fine, I understand Native philosophy, but according to the laws of North Carolina, I own this land.

That's nice, but our law is the law of Mother Earth and Father Sky, and that supersedes your law, he retorted.

Okay, I conceded, so if you live here, where is your home?

His eyes lit up, and he tapped my chest with a bony finger. If you ask nicely, he teased, perhaps I'll show it to you someday.

Well, I'd be careful. The people who work for me will find you, and that could spell trouble for you, I warned.

You mean your Secret Service agents, Mr. Vice President, he said, watching for my reaction.

Shocked and slightly alarmed, I said, You know who I am?

He rolled his eyes skyward, Just because I live in the woods doesn't mean I don't know what's going on in the world. And I'd say you are in more danger than I am, he said.

Well, in that case, you have to know that they will sooner or later find you. And that won't end well either.

Nate shook his head. Nope, they won't. I'm impossible to find.

I found you, I pointed out, and if I found you, so can they.

No, he immediately answered, I found you. But if you want to find me again, come to the rock you fell off of and meditate, and I'll find you again.

I heard an eagle cry out. Nate pointed to the sky and said, Look.

I watched the eagle soar overhead for the briefest moments, then turned back to Nate, only to find him gone. I searched in all directions, but there was no sign of him. The mist that had filled the valley had disappeared to. I was alone in the woods.

As I walked back home, I began to wonder if the knock on my head had made me imagine the whole thing; perhaps I was suffering from a concussion. I might have convinced myself of that were it not for the image of Mason in my mind laughing hysterically at my plight. I heard him say, Remember, there are no coincidences.

That was the first contact with a man, the only soul I'd ever meet that could hold a candle to Mason and his wisdom. He was to be my guide, my teacher, for the journey that was my destiny, a journey that had begun with that same soul eons ago. A journey that would give Mason and his loved ones a chance to undo an ancient wrong, a journey that would lead mankind to a rare chance to evolve, one we could not afford to miss this time.

CHAPTER 2

I

snuck back quietly into the house through the same tunnel I had left through. I was greeted by the sight of my wife, emerging from the shower. God, was she beautiful—a virtual goddess, with long blonde hair and mesmerizing blue eyes. She seemed to grow more radiant with every year. Having two babies didn't seem to faze her body; it only seemed to make her all the more exciting. The sight of her standing there, glistening with water, almost made me forget my encounter with Nate, almost stirred a primal urge.

You okay? she asked while slipping into her robe. You look concerned.

I briefly thought about removing her robe and carrying her back to the bed, but I had to tell her about Nate. She sat on the edge of the bed, brushing her beautiful golden hair and listened to me detail the story.

When I got to my fall, she jumped to her feet and inspected the knot on my head. Convinced I wasn't hurt, she put her hands on her hips and scolded me. How many times have I asked you not to walk alone in the woods. You should have taken John with you.

John was our bodyguard, which the Secret Service really hated. But we insisted on keeping him on. We just didn't give them a choice in the matter. John was a mountain of a man, and despite his size, he had superhuman reflexes and speed, to say nothing of his strength. When they were arguing with us, I challenged any of the Secret Service men to outrun, outfight, or outshoot him. None came even close. It wasn't long before they, too, said he had superhuman capabilities. They started calling him Superman.

The truth of the matter was John was superhuman. Well, actually, he wasn't human at all. He was an android turned over to us by Mason before he left. John's mission was to protect Eve and me and now our kids, at all cost. You wouldn't want to risk challenging him on that mission. Not only was he strong with lightning-fast reflexes, but being an android, he was immortal, so to speak. He was the perfect bodyguard.

I rolled my eyes, sighed, and said, Eve, I hate walking with John; he is always watching me, and he's a lousy conversationalist. Besides, I haven't gotten to the best part of the story.

When I told her about meeting Nate, her eyes grew suspicious. He lives on our land? she asked.

He said we don't own it. We only borrowed it from our kids, I retorted.

There are people who want you dead, she reminded me.

I threw my hands up and shot back, Well, apparently not Nate, because if he did, I'd be dead already.

That did little to calm Eve's nerves until I explained that I saw Mason smiling in my head. When I told her that, she sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. Sorrow was all over her face. She missed her dad desperately; she hadn't seen him in eight long years, and they had been very close. I sat next to her, pulled her head to my shoulder, and hugged her. When I did, she started to cry.

Do you think we will live to see him again? she asked through the tears.

You know, I answered, I think so. Lately, I've been seeing him more, and more of him, and the visions are getting more and more vivid. They are nearly as strong as they were right after he left.

Eve smiled at the thought. Me too, she added. I think that might mean he is on his way back.

Mason had left eight years ago to return to his home planet in the Pleiades. Mason, like John, was virtually immortal. So too was Chronos, his idiot brother; it was in the makeup of their DNA. Both had traveled to Earth eons ago. Mason was a priest, and Chronos, a scientist. They battled for the fate of Atlantis and this planet. In the end, neither really won the fight, but the people of the earth most certainly lost. Since that time, Mason had made it his mission to undo that wrong to bring back the garden of Eden that had been here when they landed and started meddling in the affairs of this amazing planet.

A meddling that has brought us here—to these desperate times. Mason had taken one of the last remaining temples of the Atlantians that we had miraculously recovered in the Caribbean. It was capable of interstellar travel. He took it to get help and vowed to return as soon as possible. But even then, it could take way too long for him to make the trip there and back. Mason couldn't age; his adopted daughter, Eve, and I, on the other hand, were human and would grow old. We might not live long enough to see him again. Marcia and David had some of his blood and would probably outlive us too.

Still, I could sense things building to a climax in the world. I felt a building of energy as if things were speeding up. It seemed that way all over the planet; it was as if events were moving faster and faster. It almost made me feel dizzy. If ever we needed Mason, it was now. We needed him to return soon, or all may soon be lost. Either way it was up to the family to continue with the mission. We were all in it to the end.

Eve perked up quickly, wiped her tears away with her hand then shoved me towards the bedroom door. You have people, important people, waiting to speak to you Mr. Vice President. You best get moving. You need to go earn your keep. Then with a devilish smile added, If you're good and put the kids to bed early, you might get some of this. She dropped the robe and walked back into the master bath, looking back once to make sure I was enjoying her tease.

Being new at this vice president thing meant that I had a ton of briefings to attend. I politely insisted that they come to me in my mountain home—partly to keep the press at bay, but mostly because I was more relaxed there. Besides, Congress was on recess, so nothing was getting done, which was par for the course and usually a good thing.

The meeting with the CIA, NSA, and other top-secret organizations was way beyond distressing. Iran was months at best from having long-range nuclear capabilities. That was coupled with a new leader, whose radical beliefs made him a huge threat to our national security and that of the entire world. He was seriously preaching jihad, and terrorist attacks around the world were increasing. Hardly a day went by without some incident. The far right was already lobbying on the airways for a first strike against the regime. The stage had been set by the previous administration, which had actively stirred Islamophobic feelings in this country. They painted a picture that all Muslims were a danger, that all Muslims were seeking to harm us, despite the repeated disclaimers from Muslims who served faithfully in our armed services and police forces around the country. Muslims leaders in this country continually denounced the violence, but the people, as usual, needed a scapegoat for their problems; they needed a place to vent their frustrations. They needed something to distract them from their mundane lives, and the previous administration had capitalized on their unfounded fears. In many ways, they created those fears and fertilized them. The same thing was true for the people in the Middle East. The same methods were playing out there too. The cries for war were nearing critical mass.

Fortunately, President Stillson was of the polar opposite view, wanting to discuss bilateral nuclear disarmament of all nations—a view that wasn't getting enough traction. Apparently, the people of the United States felt that we should be the only country with nuclear capabilities. As usual, fear was controlling the minds of way too many of the people of this nation. Despite claiming to be a Christian nation, a larger percentage of the people were prone to hate over love, war over peace, greed over charity, revenge over forgiveness, and prejudice over acceptance. The nation was a tinderbox just waiting to explode, and Stillson was struggling to maintain calm.

That, of course, was just one of many countries and situations discussed in the briefing. It was undoubtedly the one most likely to lead us into an unwinnable war, but as is the norm, the world had a multitude of other issues reaching boiling points. By the time they were done briefing me on the rest of the world, I was seriously depressed. I didn't like thinking that way. I knew better. Mason had taught me that my thoughts were creative; that what I focused on, I created. My reality was directly related to my thoughts and feelings. I certainly didn't want what I was thinking about happening. I needed to change the state of my mind.

After they left, I made a point of playing with Adam and Lara. Watching their joyful innocence always lightened my heart and made me smile. It was a much-needed reminder that, in the end, love would win. No sooner than I thought that they, as usual, had a silly fight over some stupid toy, and both ended up crying. I found it almost amusing that the world leaders were behaving like my kids. I wished that I could put those leaders in time out. Then I remembered Mason telling me once that we as people often make the mistake that just because someone has made a few trips more around the sun, just because they reached a certain age, didn't mean that they were mature. We did this despite ample proof that immature people, selfish people, were found in all age groups. He encouraged me to remember this, and when faced with those people, treat their words and actions the same way I'd treat a two-year-old. He said that if I had lived their lives and was at their level of spiritual evolution, I would probably do something similar. I found that helpful in both houses of Congress; perhaps we needed a few changing tables in the Capitol building.

After dinner, where I shared the state of the world with Eve, we tucked the kids into bed and went back to our room. The ever vigil, never sleeping John kept watch. I knew with him there we were safe. Alone in our room in our bed,