The Vengeful Djinn: Unveiling the Hidden Agenda of Genies (7 page)

Djinn Classifications

Before we continue presenting our research of the djinn, it's important that we clarify a few things. Djinn who choose to live next
to humans or interact with them are known as aamar. Young djinn
are called arwaah. Djinn who have evil intentions are called shayteen, and the more powerful djinn leaders are known as afrit. This
identification of djinn is a very broad one, much like describing
a person as only listening to one kind of music, or only enjoying
one kind of food to the exclusion of all others. We shall see in the
chapters to follow that djinn social structure is quite complex.

HE FOLLOWING ACCOUNT FEATURES PHIL'S djinn experiences
during a trip to Saudi Arabia in December of 1995. On his
trip to the Middle East, he was able to make a number of important connections and contacts. The purpose of this trip originally
had nothing to do with the djinn, but as Phil traveled from country to country he heard more of this ancient race and decided to
make learning about them a priority.

Phil's Uncertain Journey

During my tenure in the United States military, I served with a
number of individuals who today are in influential positions not
only in the American government, but also in two foreign countries, one of which is Saudi Arabia. On a trip to the Middle East in
the 1990s, I discovered that a fellow soldier I knew from our service in the Vietnam War was now a high-ranking member of the
security force of the royal Saudi family. At the time I was in Israel, and sent him a telegram explaining that I would like to visit him
and asking if he could arrange entrance through customs without
a hassle. Within twenty-four hours, I received an invitation to join
him at his home, not far from the royal palace, and one of the only
luxurious places in the country. I can only refer to this person as
"Jack," becaues he's an American in service to a foreign power and
his position requires a great deal of anonymity. I have not heard
from him in more than ten years, and as of the writing of this
book, have no idea of his current situation.

I arrived at the King Khalid International Airport in Riyadh and went through customs. The officer there looked at my passport, paused for a very long time, looked at me again, and turned to his computer screen. I got a little worried and the people behind me in line began to step back as though they knew something was wrong. The customs officer then got on the phone and spoke in Arabic, a language I don't understand. He called over two nearby soldiers and had them escort me to a security room. I grew more worried. You see, King Fahd bin Abdul Aziz Al Saud, the ruling monarch at that time, had recently suffered a stroke and was unable to perform his duties as king. Many feared that dissidents would use this opportunity to seize control of the government. Perhaps my friend had already left the country, or was jailed by whoever was in control. You can understand my growing concern, thinking I might also be jailed because of my past military association with Jack.

A half hour later, a soldier walked into the small room. Speaking almost perfect English, he identified himself as Captain Yar- ramish and told me a car was waiting outside to take me to my destination.'
I tried to ask him where I was being taken, but he insisted that I not ask any questions. We walked out the security area of the customs building. My mind flashed to an incident Jack and
I had in Bangkok back in 1970. I said to myself, "Surely he must
have forgotten about that by now!"

Outside was a white stretch limousine. The captain got in with
me and we began our journey to our destination. I thought, "Well,
they sure aren't going to take me to a prison in a limo, but then
again, Jack always had a strange sense of humor." As we drove
through the city, I was shocked at the living conditions: people were
still living as they had lived in the eighteenth century. We must have
passed forty gas stations on our trip and the price was no more than
ten cents a liter!

Soon, we found ourselves in the upper-class part of the city. Here,
the homes were fantastically large with very expensive cars in the
driveways. The difference between this area and the poor section
and outer fringes of the city was like day and night. The wealthy
Saudi people lived much better than Americans, and the neighborhood I was now riding through would put Beverly Hills to shame.
It was clear that there were two financial classes in this country: the
extremely wealthy and the poor.

We stopped at a gate with two guards who waved us in. The
car pulled into a long circular driveway. As I got out of the limo,
Jack appeared, and greeted me with a smile and a hug. We went
into a small villa they had prepared for me and we sat down to
have a drink. Jack told me he had the rank of colonel in the Saudi
security force, a position he had been in for the past five years. He
asked me about my life since we last met. I told him that for the
past thirteen years, I had been teaching science and had written
a number of books on various topics. He looked at me, laughed,
and said,"Yes, but that's the cover story. What are you really doing?" I couldn't get Jack to believe that I was nothing more than
a science teacher-he was certain I was in the Middle East doing
some type of reconnaissance for an intelligence agency. Jack said we were invited to a dinner party that evening with a member of
the royal family. He then excused himself to attend to his duties,
and recommended I get some rest.

A Strange Dinner Party

As soon as Jack left, I fell into a deep sleep. Not too much later, I
was awakened by a knock on the door. It was a secretary from the
royal family asking me if I was ready for dinner. What seemed only
like a few minutes of sleep was actually several hours! I must have
been very tired, since it is not normal for me to sleep so deeply,
especially in a strange place. I let the gentleman in and apologized
for not being ready. He seemed quite upset and insisted that I
hurry because Prince Khalid bin Fahd was attending the dinner
party and it is a custom and show of respect that the guests arrive
first and wait for royalty to make their entrance.

As I hurried to get ready, dressing in the tuxedo already cleaned
and pressed for me, the gentleman identifying himself as my "advisor" gave me brief instructions on behavior and social protocol in
the Arab world, especially in the presence of royalty. The instructions for proper behavior made me feel like I was back in medieval
times. In a strict serious voice, he told me, "We must arrive before
His Highness. When he enters the room, if you are sitting, you
must stand. If you are talking, be silent. If you have a drink in
your hand, set it down. If you have a cigarette, put it out at once.
Most importantly, do not walk up and introduce yourself. You
must wait for His Highness to come to you."

Those were just the instructions for the cocktail party-there
were more concerning the dinner: "Do not walk over to the table
until the servant asks all present to do so. Stand by your chair and
wait for His Highness to sit first. Do not look at His Highness unless he is addressing you, and under no circumstances talk to the
prince. His Highness will make a toast, so be sure you stand and hold the wine glass with your right hand and look at His Highness
when he gives the toast. After the toast, you may say `Thank you,'
`Very nice,' or `Hear, hear.' Make sure you take one long drink and
that Prince Khalid lowers his glass before you do."

After he had finished, I jokingly replied, "Is that all?" My advisor looked confused when I said, "Do you think after the toast I
can give him the Vulcan salute and say `Live long and prosper?"'
Of course, I was just kidding around, but my advisor didn't see the
humor in it. As we drove to the palace, I was reminded that I was
not in America-disrespect in even the slightest form was taken as
an insult.

At the palace, I entered the hall and started to mingle. I must
have looked quite sharp in my black tie tuxedo-many foreign dignitaries whose names I couldn't remember thought I was an ambassador for some western country!

One of the servants called us into the main dining room. All
the guests, including myself, stood around a large table. My position was second from the right of the head of table and I was
quite excited to think I was going to sit next to the prince. At that
moment, another servant walked in and said that Prince Khalid
had been called away on urgent business, and he apologized to all
his guests. However, the prince's cousin was to take his place and
would settle all business in His Highness's name after dinner. The
cousin entered the room with two large bodyguards, and everyone
bowed. He sat in his chair and everyone did the same. I was thankful there was no toast and that dinner was served promptly.

The royal cousin looked to be about thirty-five years old. The
other guests addressed him as "Excellency" so I assumed he was a
minister in the Saudi government. My friend Jack was sitting next
to me on the left and he whispered that it would all right to ask a
question. Before I could open my mouth, his Excellency looked
at me and asked if I was an American, and why I was visiting his
country. I replied that I was interested in learning more about the djinn. When His Excellency heard the word djinn, his expression changed from neutral to one of concern and excitement. He seemed surprised to hear the word djinn come from a westerner, and it seemed to catch his interest! "The djinn!" He said the word so loudly, the entire table went silent and everyone looked in his direction. "I will tell you about them. They are very real and live in my country." The story he proceeded to tell me is unverified, but His Excellency seemed very serious; I believe it is the truth. I will relate the story to the best of my memory.

To CATCH A DJINN

His Excellency said that a special unit in the United States military had been trying to capture a djinni for many years. His government would allow military and scientific missions into certain parts of the desert where djinn are known to enter our world. He said that the United States was after a technological device that allowed djinn to pass through solid walls and through dimensional windows. When I asked if they ever caught one, he replied that he wasn't sure because that kind of information would be classified at the highest level. I found this an interesting comment, and related it to a similar incident of a few years earlier in Pine Bush, New York, where numerous residents had reported a considerable amount of military activity in that area. The military's official explanation was that they were doing "training exercises," but a past associate of mine who is now in intelligence informed me of a different purpose. According to my associate, the military was supporting an operation being undertaken by a special unit to capture an "interdimensional alien" using a portal in that area of the country to enter and leave our world. The main objective of this operation was capturing its technology.'

I asked His Excellency for a source of more information about
the djinn and he instructed me to read the Qur'an. He turned to
Jack, said something in Arabic, and then looked at me once again,
and said, "This conversation is over." His Excellency then spoke
with a number of his other guests. Jack knew I wanted to ask more
and before I opened my mouth he elbowed me in the ribs quite
hard. This I took as a very strong hint to keep my mouth shutmy conversation time with His Excellency was over.

After dinner I asked Jack what the prince's cousin had said to
him. Jack told me he was instructed to take me to a mosque at the
edge of the city to meet a holy man who knew everything about the
djinn. I was thrilled and asked when we could go. Jack responded
that the trip could be made in the morning, but he would not be
going and would send his assistant, the captain who picked me up
at the airport. A car then pulled up and took me back to the villa.

Visit with the Holy Man

Morning came too soon, and I was again awakened with a knock
on my door. It was the captain. He said that we must leave immediately and asked me to dress in the more traditional clothes of the
Saudi people in order to attract less attention. He told me that the
area of the city we would be visiting was not safe for westerners. I
dressed as he instructed and found the clothing quite comfortable,
made of the finest Egyptian cotton. I looked like someone who
had just stepped out of Lawrence ofArabia.