Vol 1 The Illuminati: Only the Soul is immortal, #1

By Andrew Gilbert

Reincarnation is a fact of life.

It even says it right there in the bible, if you look closely.

Think about that for a moment. You die and then you come back in a new body.

But what if you didn;t have to die to take on a new body?

Ask yourself, if you could just come back as a new body, would you?

Would you choose to live as Beyonce or justin Bieber, for the fame and fortune? Perhaps as Obama or Oprah for the powerful friends and lavish lifestyle? Maybe it would be as Angel Merkel or Bill Gates. Lots of power and influence and a good income. And when that body got old you could just hop into another body? A younger or fitter or richer body. You could keep doing that and getting richer and richer. Maybe live forever?. A tempting prospect isn't it?

Would you call it body snatching?

How do you know it's not happening already?

Today, right in front of you?

Read on...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Andrew Gilbert
• Release date: Apr 4, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224802654

Andrew Gilbert

Andy has been writing for the last twenty years and has written a number of books over a wide variety of genre. His first book Sold over 5000 copies and he continues to write on whatever the mood takes him. Currently he  is finishing Books on the crime scene in Rotorua, New Zealand. As always his books are not meant to be taken seriously. If you haven't laughed today, read one of Andy's books!

Book preview

Foreword

This series of books delves into the corridors of power and the manipulations of the money markets. Often these manipulations are not done for the best interests of a particular country. Often, they are a part of a bigger picture. With big power players like USA and China, we can also add the collective power of the European Union and wonder why some countries are sacrificed or bankrupted so that other countries may flourish and thrive. Think away from the money markets. What if the new world currency is religious fanaticism? What if the mass migration of refugees to America and Asia and Europe are part of a bigger plan for world control? Think of hundreds of mini strongholds in every civilised country where the locals are excluded. If a political party could harness that power, would they be a force to reckon with? Read the book and look at one possible way the game is played.

Preface

Reincarnation is a fact of life! It even says it, right there in the Bible, if you look closely. You could go a little further and say Reincarnation is a fact of life AND a consequence of death . Think about that for a second. You die and come back in a new body.

But what if you didn’t have to die to take on a new body?

Ask yourself, if you could just take over any individual’s body and lead their life. Would you? Would you choose to live as Beyoncé or Justin Bieber, for the fame and fortune? Perhaps as Obama or as Oprah, for the powerful friends and lavish lifestyle? Maybe it would be as Angela Merkel or Bill Gates? Lots of power and influence and a good income. And when that body got old, you could just hop into another younger or richer or fitter body. You could keep doing that and getting richer and richer and live forever.

A tempting prospect, isn’t it?

Would you call it ‘Body Snatching’?

How do you know it’s not happening already?

Today?  Right in front of you?

Read on.......

Introduction

Doctor Peter Emellson was close to finishing his shift at the Hospital. As a highly respected member of the teaching faculty in the field of oncology, his reputation was unsurpassed for being an innovator of new ideas in the treatment of Skin cancer and Basal Cell Melanoma. Currently his work involved research into a variety of some of the more esoteric or old-fashioned treatments for ailments of the skin. In short, he was leading research into the ‘natural medicines’ field. His personal involvement in the research gave some credence to the bringing in or use of colour therapists and naturopaths and similar alternative fields of healing.

For the past eighteen months he had met and talked with all manner of fringe healing practise and its practitioners. On principle, Doctor Emellson declined to use the term ‘medicine’ when researching these alternative beliefs. In his opinion the term ‘Medicine’ involved years of research, testing and development in a clinical environment. What he had been studying in the last year and a half was at best theory or hearsay from a wide variety of well-meaning individuals. None of whom had come even close to providing the definitive results and case studies that he needed to advance his research.

His last appointment of this shift was to meet and interview yet another of these so-called healers whose area of expertise involved something called ‘chakra alignment’.

As always Doctor Emellson went into the appointment with an open mind. He was relieved that the majority of these alternative healers were basically very well meaning. Very few had the desire to earn money from their ‘gifts’ of healing. This attitude made Doctor Emellson a little less suspicious of their motives and made him want to believe the natural healing could be an alternative to the high-priced alternatives that the drug companies were promoting.

He entered his office and sat down at his desk. His secretary ushered in the latest candidate who thought he could revolutionise medicine. The elderly healer smiled at the doctor and introduced himself as Michael Barton, a chakra healer from Wolverhampton. In his mind the good doctor tried to quell the humorous concept of Wolverhampton being a hot bed of natural healing and rose to greet the Healer.

After introductions both men sat down, and Doctor Emellson explained briefly the concept of the study he was undertaking and invited the visitor to explain the idea of his healing method in general terms.

The visitor explained that if he were able to place his hands on the chakra points of the doctor’s body, he might more ably feel the connections. Doctor Emellson agreed, and the Doctor came around the desk to allow the visitor to demonstrate his craft.

As the visitor lightly put his hands on the doctor’s head several things happened. The doctor suddenly felt very lightheaded and was aware only that he was very definitely feeling some energy or influence on his body when the visitor placed his hands softly on the top of the doctor’s head. To an onlooker the situation in the room might have looked odd. Firstly, the healer placed his hands on the Doctors head, then to his own head and finally put his hands back on the Doctors head. Within seconds the visiting healer had slumped to the floor in a state of wild disorientation and passed out. It may only have been a few seconds later, but after recovering his composure the doctor looked at his former self slumped on the floor. He called out to the receptionist asking her to summon help as the visitor had collapsed.

Kneeling down to check the visitor, the ‘new’ soul driving Doctor Emellson smiled and took in his surroundings with satisfaction. The man on the floor was regaining consciousness and dazedly looking around. When he saw the doctor kneeling over him, he stopped and looked at his own hands and then touched his face. Within moments of the doctor’s summons, two nurses arrived and burst through the door. The Doctor was kneeling over the body of the healer. He informed the nurses that his visitor had suddenly collapsed and was incoherent and suggested the visitor be admitted to the hospital.  The good Doctor stepped back as the nurse began attending to the patient.

Lie still, please. You’ve had a fall; can you tell me your name. please?

I’m Doctor Emellson. No, my name might be Michael. Michael Barton. I don’t know.

Perhaps those were the last words of sanity that ever left the body of Michael Barton. The nurses quickly organised a gurney for the patient, and he was wheeled out of the Doctors’ office. As the door of his office closed behind the nurses the new occupier of Doctor Peter Emellson’s body took in its new surroundings. He smiled and sat down at the Doctor’s desk.

Chapter 1

Michael James Doull was a veteran reporter with some 20 years of reporting behind him. He did not however go back in the industry as far as the days of sitting hunched over a typewriter. His arrival in the news media melting pot had coincided with the advent of the desktop computer.  With today’s technology advantages he could virtually write any story on his Smartphone, take the pictures on his Smartphone and send it whisking into his employer without ever going near an office. Mike liked that idea. In his own mind Mike knew he was getting lazy but years of dealing with the filthy circumstances of other peoples’ lives had taken away any youthful enthusiasm.

He had enjoyed a few good paydays covering the personal side of much of the Jubilee celebrations. But that had been nearly a month ago. Now he had to wait for the Olympics to start in August before he could guarantee a few more regular pay checks heading his way.

Today he was perched on the corner of the desk of the editor of the Sun daily newspaper. It could have been any paper in the country for Mike was a freelance reporter who made his living developing any story he could get paid for by one of the national dailies. Today he was annoying the features editor of the Sun, Harry Ferguson, to try and get whatever work he could get his hands on. Times were tough with the recession, but the Sun was probably one of the few dailies that still paid freelance jocks like him to dig up dirt or fluff pieces. Occasionally the leads offered would turn into something big and result in Mike having a good payday. Most of the time he would be offered bits and pieces that he himself would have to develop into something that would make the papers in the front two or three pages.  Harry Ferguson was not in a giving mood today. He’d spent most of the morning in a heads of department meeting that was called to tighten belts and budgets.

Mike Doull knew that Harry Ferguson had a temper the equivalent to his namesake in football management, but over the years Mike had managed to stay in Ferguson’s good books. Mike was one of the few in the industry who could get away with calling him ‘Fergie’ to his face. Mike was also aware that he was close to getting the newspaper editors version of the Fergie hairdryer treatment but persisted in his chat as he needed the work and the money.

Fergie had nothing to offer Mike but was willing to give him a start on an article as Mike always delivered in the Sun’s scathing style no matter how trivial the story. From the meeting that morning the editors had been asked to keep all matters relating to the current recession with its own in-house reporting staff. There were a good number of unofficial leaks coming from ‘Number 10’ that were for political gains and these were fed directly to senior reporters as they were less likely to name their sources as would a freelancer with no legal team to support them. Fergie suggested that Mike try and come back to him with some ideas of his own and offered him one day of fees to go and dig out some topics that might make a story.

With that meagre economic lifeline in his hand Mike thanked Fergie and left his office.

Going down to the reporter’s room Mike trawled the staffers who were not out in the field for any suggestions that he could follow up.

The offerings were meagre, but several ideas were forthcoming to him: As always Mike thought about the subject and immediately came up with some angles he could perhaps develop to coin up some intrigue.

There was the forthcoming visit by the Chilean miners to Manchester and a visit to Manchester United. (Perhaps a chance for a few words with the Manchester United insiders, possibly make a few contacts for future use).

There were concerns that dementia numbers were spiralling in all age ranges. (How good was our health system, is the increase due to modern day life pressures? Is there a cure?).

How well could Britain cope if we had another major freeze up (Could the country cope? Had we learned our lessons from the previous big freeze? Is this part of the global warming? Kyoto or not to Kyoto?)

EEC mandarins getting more demanding and more trivial (we can’t sell sausages anymore, have to buy all EEC goods through the EEC head office, any chance of someone in the EEC clipping the ticket and skimming an income?)

Global warming (yes, it’s an issue but not for the Sun to lead with)

There were no more issues with any initial work done on them that had been pushed to one side, so Mike sat at a free desk and made some phone calls at the Sun’s expense.

The Press office at Manchester United were not interested in dealing with a freelancer. They only spoke to accredited reporters and Mike was invited to submit his credentials from a major daily for inspection. Mike gave his thanks but knew he was far too lazy to go to all that bother.

The Dementia story showed more cooperative sources. He spoke to two hospitals and three age care facilities. All agreed that the dementia numbers were rocketing upwards, and the government should be offering more funding. Many of the people contacted offered to be interviewed and Mike promised to get back to them, in time.

In trying to get somewhere with the freeze-up story Mike was pushed from pillar to post. No one really knew who was responsible for which facet of the freeze, if it was declared an emergency. The guy at the roads board thought they had a few days stock of grit and salt and was maybe a little concerned at the replacement of that stock. He had no idea who supplied that stock, so the tale and Mike’s enthusiasm ended there.

The possible story of the EEC mandarins met with a similar fate in that the PR people Mike spoke to in Brussels were unhelpful to the point of being rude at any suggestion that the EEC was not the source of salvation for the future progress of Europe. On pressing further Mike was put through to three different people, none of whom spoke English.

Mike sat and viewed the sheet of paper in front of him. With the exception of the Dementia story all the others had been crossed out as not worth it or they involved too much effort and travelling to be worth his bother.

With a sigh, Mike picked up the phone again. As he dialled the first number, he wondered how he could jazz up the story, of more old people going loopy, sufficient for the Sun to hand over a decent cheque.

Chapter 2

Mike set up four appointments for the following day. The two morning appointments were at hospitals and were as positive as Mike expected. Yes, there were increased incidents of dementia. The person available at both hospitals for interviewing could best be described as an academic.  They both led most of their answers with interestingly..... Mike could not get the connection between ‘interestingly’ and the topic of dementia. It appeared that cases of dementia were up quite a bit over the last five years. There were far more cases of younger people entering the hospital with this affliction and obviously the government had done nothing to meet this trend with increased funding etc. Politely making sure he had spelt their names correctly; Mike left and found a pub that served a reasonable pub lunch. Fighting off a strong urge to cancel the two afternoon appointments he sat and ate his meal and tried to jazz up what he had been told so far. He didn’t try for very long as the meal demanded more of his attention than the prospect of the story in hand.

Arriving at the 2 o’clock interview Mike met the interviewee. Maggie Smith was a no-nonsense nurse from Leeds who did not want to be a part of a structured interview. She wanted to express her thoughts and Mike was welcome to make of it what he wanted. Maggie Smith had a thought or two on a lot of things, not least of which were reinforcements of the opinions of the two old bores from the morning interviews. Further to those thoughts she was convinced there was something going on. Probably a government experiment that no one knew about. Most of the new dementia patients were quite young which was almost unheard of in her experience. Maggie wanted to give full vent to her concerns. And another thing, this accompanied with a wagging finger, How come most of these patients have no build-up of symptoms. Dementia is a usually a progressive disease over several years. Lots of my patients are exhibiting full blown dementia almost overnight. In closing, she again affirmed her belief that the damned government is up to something, and no one is letting on what it is.

Mike took to Maggie straight away. Although she was talking in a similar manner to the many crackpots expressing their views about the government or flying saucers, Mike realised that this was just Maggie’s Yorkshire way of dealing with anything. Despite only allowing twenty minutes for the interview, Mike stayed and talked with Maggie for the better part of an hour. He found her quite observant and much focussed on her patients. Mike promised to get back to her if the paper wanted more info and then he drove to his next appointment.

Appointment number four was really just a senior nurse offering a rehash of the high-minded ideas of the first two interviews. At Mike’s prodding the nurse agreed that yes, there were more cases of dementia occurring. Yes, there was much higher incidence of younger patients. And yes, there were very high numbers of patients going into dementia very rapidly which was unusual.

On his way home Mike called in to talk further with Maggie Smith but she had left for the day. It seemed her shift had finished at midday, but she had felt strongly enough about her patients to stay on and make sure Mike got the full story from her.

When he got home Mike set to and turfed out a 1000-word piece on the dementia issue. It really wasn’t a subject that could be jazzed up or sensationalised. Working the angle of Maggie Smith’s theory of a government cover up into the article was a struggle but Mike had enough years of experience behind him to get the reader to ask themselves the cover up question. Attaching the article to an email he pressed the send button and sent his words across the internet to the features editor with a silent wish that it was a slow news day, and they would be looking for fill in material.

He was surprised that within minutes Harry Ferguson emailed back to say he would use the article as it was indeed a slow news day, but it probably would be tucked away on page 6 or 7. Although it promised a pay check, its placement in the paper didn’t guarantee much of a read or the chance of a follow up article. Out of politeness, Mike emailed Harry back and worked in a request for some upfront travel expenses to do an article on the EEC mandarins. Mentioning the possibility of a hint of corruption would usually get any editors interested. Harry Ferguson was too experienced to fall for that trick. He emailed back for Mike to come up with more details before he would consider fronting up with the funds. Mike knew there was nothing of substance to offer to Fergie, so he switched off his computer and called it a day.

Across town, in the office of Doctor Peter Emellson there was great consternation in the IT dept. it appeared that all of Doctor Emellson’s research notes for the past year or so had disappeared from his computer memory. Quite rightly, the good Doctor was berating the hospital’s IT dept as his work and study for the last 18 months had disappeared for all time.  Without repeating the entire study again there was no possibility of drawing any conclusions or making any recommendations. Doctor Emellson was visibly angered with the IT technician who was at a loss to recover the missing data. The good doctor’s anger was visible to all his staff as he stormed out of the hospital and left work for the day. The anger was still on his face when he arrived home and dutifully kissed his wife. In fact, the doctor’s anger was clear to all who saw him that day. But it disappeared when he sat alone in his study at home. His anger was replaced by a smile of deep contentment as he sat and sipped a fine Malt Whisky. The contentment was for a job well done.

Chapter 3

Mike Doull’s article was reasonably prominent, and it actually made page 4. That’s the page after the Sun’s page 3 girl cover. That’s still a good location to catch the attention of those who tire of the ever smiling but still unattainable page 3 Boob babes. It is understood by most of the industry that readers of the Sun newspaper are not among the highest percentile of intellect. A story on more people going loopy was not going to attract a great audience and those who did read it were probably not of the calibre that would command a royal inquiry into the dementia problem.

As the author of the article Mike had already inwardly acknowledged the story was at an end and had already been on the phone to a couple of other Daily newspapers looking for work. Mike was therefore more than a little surprised when he received an email later in the day from Harry Ferguson asking him to make contact for a follow up article on the dementia story. Mike emailed Harry immediately and made a time to meet in Harry’s office the following day.

On entering Harry’s office, the next day Mike prepared to sit on the corner of Harry’s desk until Harry firmly pointed to a chair for Mike to sit on.

Harry started the conversation with, We’ve had emails and phone calls from all over the place on your dementia story. So, what’s the angle?

Mike was at a loss to answer Harry’s question and replied accordingly.

Harry explained his interest. The Sun has readers everywhere. All the expats across the world go online to the Sun website so they can catch up with what’s happening at home.

Mike offered the thought that it might be just for the page 3 girls, but Harry knocked that thought aside and went further.

"That’s crap! There’re more boobs, bush and bonking on the internet than you’ll ever get on page 3. The Sun online has the biggest readership of all the dailies. And your article has got them contacting us by the hundreds, make that by the thousand!