The Yanti (22 page)

They reached the bottom, got out of the elevator. With his flashlight, bravely, Ra went first up the narrow cave, getting soot on his clothes as he moved. Ali had on a green fairy robe, that she had picked up at Yom when they had dropped Farble and Paddy back off at the stronghold.

As they neared the temple door, Ra slowed down, let her draw even with him.

The door was engraved with a circular mandala. At first glance it appeared to resemble the Yanti, but it had six sides, not seven, and the inner triangle had been sliced down the middle with a splintered line. There was no central dot, and Ali knew that was important. It was the inner dot of the Yanti that represented the infinite—the divine, the essence, whatever one’s concept of God might be—where everything emerged from, and eventually returned to. This mandala, although obviously a powerful symbol to those who had made it, did not acknowledge such a concept.

Ali recalled how a study of the mandala had sent Geea into a panic, and even though Ali did not possess all the insights of her previous incarnation, she immediately sensed the evil that emanated from the etching.

Ali recalled another remark Geea had told Jira, as she begged him not to go inside the temple.
“This symbol has a power over the mind.”

Ali could feel it just standing there. A troubling weakness entered her chest. She had to pull her gaze away from it just to draw in a deep breath. Taking a step toward Ra, she had to yank his head aside. He was already soaked in sweat, and trembling.

“Don’t look at it!” she snapped.

He sucked in a ragged breath, struggling for calm, nodded.

“What is it?” he asked.

Ali glanced at it, then back at Ra. “A representation of some type of energy that we cannot see, but which we can definitely feel. Notice how it resembles the Yanti, but is like a corruption of it. You see that a lot on Earth, when it comes to cults. The Nazis took the swastika—a symbol of the four sacred directions of the creation—and inverted it and turned it on its side. Those who worship the devil—they take the cross and turn it upside down. There’s a natural power in these symbols, as
there is in the design of the Yanti. But the beings who built this place took that power and tweaked it somehow—to their own liking.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.” Ra continued to pant. “But I don’t know if it’s a good idea to stay here. Have you found out what you wanted?”

Ali sadly shook her head. “My investigation hasn’t begun. I have to go inside, through that door. Furthermore, I need to go alone.” She raised her hand as he went to protest. “In my last life, as Geea, I was unable to go in there, even though you did.”

Ra tried to straighten himself, to stand up to the waves of negative energy that literally dripped from the evil mandala. “But if I went in there before, I can do it again. I don’t want to leave you alone, that’s not what I came here to do.”

She nodded. “What you’re saying, you’re right in a way. I need you close, need to feel your love and support. Because to be honest, I’m terrified to go on. I don’t know what I’m going to find, or what it’s going to do to me. In my last life, my father went in there and vanished. To this day I don’t know where he is. And my sister, Doren, she went inside and changed into the Shaktra.” Ali paused. “And you know what happened when you went in there.”

“I lost my mind,” Ra said softly, nodding to himself. “I remember now.”

Ali came close, tried to touch his hand with her ruined hands. But her fingers hurt—hugging was easier than squeezing. She recoiled in pain, but he seemed to appreciate her attempt. Yet he still did not want her to go in there without him. Ali shook her head.

“The fact that you’ve come this far means a lot to me. I feel your fear. I feel you trying to hide it. You want to throw yourself in front of this wall for me. I know you—you would give
your life for me in an instant. I would do the same for you. That’s the kind of bond we have—and this stone wall isn’t going to block that. When I’m inside, you’re going to be with me. Your strength and caring will be there beside me, and that will help keep me sane.” She reached out, gave him the best hug she was capable of, whispered in his ear, which was really more of a whisper in his mind, because her throat was all choked up. It was easier to put the thoughts directly into his heart.

“Your love is all I need, Ra.”

He must have heard her, deep inside, for he nodded.

“I’ll wait for you right here,” he said.

She touched his head as she backed away. “Thanks. Don’t stare at the mandala. Don’t look at the blasted thing at all.”

He nodded again, forced a smile. “It gives me a headache.”

A rope and pulleys had been installed by the original makers to move the massive stone door. All she had to do was kick a wooden lever, and the door swung open. She disappeared into the dark temple.

The door slammed shut behind her with a rush. Her subtle senses had anticipated finding a large chamber, and yet the space she ended up in was small, circular, with a low dome ceiling. Six crystal blocks had been set around a black stone stool. The crystals themselves were rather dark, but streaked with white quartz. Except for their vague but consistent box-like shapes, they could have been natural stones.

But the front of each stone, the sides that faced the black stool, were clearly polished. She saw no controls, but intuitively understood what they were.
Screens
.

Dark crystal screens. The stool was for the viewer to sit upon. Four feet high, it did not look as if it had been designed
with humans in mind, but she felt if she perched on top of it, the screens would activate. For there was a faint gap between the edges of the stool and the floor. Perhaps it would move, and sink down, when weight was placed on top of it.

There was no other entrance or exit to the chamber.

It was odd how she remembered none of this from the day she had rescued Jira. Of course, in that life, when she had managed to reopen the hatch, he had leapt into her arms, weeping, before the door had automatically reclosed.

Ali walked around each block, finding no controls. But she did discover several loose objects atop one of the blocks. For the life of her, they looked like plugs of some kind, with a black wire attached. However, at the opposite end of each plug was a tiny purple crystal.

“What the heck . . .”

Ali took a sudden step back. Something about the ceiling had changed, or else she was imagining things. When she had first entered, it had been a low dome. That had been clear. Now she could find no ceiling at all. There was just . . . nothing. Yet it had been there before, she could have sworn.

Had the chamber already reacted to her presence?

She had heard no sound, no movement.

Ali touched a crystal block. The room was on the cool side; the blocks were positively freezing. Yet they did not
broadcast
their cold, or else the chamber would have been frigid.

Ali felt she had to sit on the stool. That was what it was there for. The invitation was obvious. When you sat on the rock, the place seemed to shout to her, the party would begin.

Ordinarily she would have hopped up onto it. But her wounds made every move difficult. Twice she tried unsuccessfully to squirm into the high seat. Finally, she decided to activate her field and just fly into it.

Yet her magnetic field failed to work. Good to know.

Fairy magic did not work in this place.

Ali took a running jump and landed on the stool. It did settle with her weight, so that her feet almost touched the floor. At the same time a purple crystal—attached to a long black wire—appeared above her head. It looked like a natural amethyst, with its rough green outer shell still in place. Yet it was round—one half of a well-sliced sphere—and it glowed, filling the chamber with a haunting purple color that reminded her of the light she had seen in Sheri Smith’s house. The amethyst was larger than her head, and for a moment she feared it was going to cover her head, and smother her. But it stopped a foot above the top of her skull.

Ali felt naked right then—particularly as a strange magnetic field played over the raw skin of her head, down the front of her face, and over her heart. Neither cold nor hot, the
scan
nevertheless caused her to shiver.

She knew she was being examined . . . and without permission.

The six screens lit up at once. More purple light. Then the impossible happened—she could see all six of them at the same time! Without moving her head a fraction of an inch. Indeed, she could see all six with her eyes closed!

Then she understood. The crystal above her head was transmitting the images directly into her brain. Her vision was now holographic, not a result of her optic nerves. She was not watching TV, and the six blocks were not the latest in high definition plasma screens. Yet they might have been computers of some type. Whatever they were, they were now connected to her head.

Another shock. Three of the screens showed images that could have been taken directly off any number of human
computers at home. She saw AOL, Google, Yahoo . . . At last she understood Jira’s final words to her.

Not: Net . . . The . . . Enter. No, he had said,
Internet!

The other three screens also appeared to be hooked up to Internets—but of mysterious origins. She did not recognize the writing, nor any of the symbols. Yet there were brilliant flashes, occasionally followed by strange images. They came so fast . . . then vanished. She couldn’t be certain, but she thought she saw stars, moons, nebula—even spaceships.

Of course, it might have been her imagination—just something she hoped to see. Because from the beginning, as Geea, she had pushed the theory that the chamber was of extraterrestrial origin. Perhaps because she had settled on that idea back then, the crystal blocks were feeding her images to support it. She could be sure of nothing—except the speed of the pictures was fantastic!

However, when it came to the
human
Internet portals, the images were slower, although they jumped about. Why, if she concentrated hard enough, she could read today’s news, check out the latest films, even catch up on the latest sports scores.

The three human Internet screens were shifting constantly—as if the intelligence behind them was sampling the interests of humans in different parts of the globe. She caught what looked like personal e-mails. Not all were in English, and none were from anyone she had met before. The e-mails were not discussing the end of the world, just normal mundane matters.

None of this soothed her fears. It all felt too . . . convenient.

“I wish to communicate!” she shouted.

One of the three screens hooked into the Internet went momentarily blank. The screen turned briefly purple, then red letters appeared, in quotes, as if it knew that was the way humans
conveyed speech while writing. While seeing the words on the screen, Ali also heard them in her mind. However, it was all happening in her head, because even when she shut her eyes, she still saw the screen.

“We wish to communicate as well. What do you prefer to be called?”

“Ali. What shall I call you?”

“The Entity.”

“Are you one or many?”

“We are many that have become one.”

“Where are you from?”

“Many places, in time and space. We also come from beyond the dimensions you know. We are a network made up of many races.”

“Why are you here?”

“To serve.”

The answer could not have surprised Ali more.

“Entity, are you responsible for the one known as Doren—who used to be my sister—changing into the Shaktra?”

“Yes. We initiated the change that brought about her transformation.”

“Can you explain why you felt the need to change her?”

“By your standards, the reasons are complex. From our point of view, they are simple. We changed her to help her serve those around her.”

“From my point of view—and that of the majority of my associates in this world—the changes you brought about in Doren were detrimental to her and to this world.”

“This Entity is aware of that false perception on your part.”

“Are you sure that it is false?”

“Yes.”

“But you’ve turned her into a monster!”

“By your standards, that is correct. By our standards, we have helped change her into an authoritarian figure that can help take control of this world and the other.”

“But doesn’t it bother you that she has become so cruel?”

“We are not as affected as your species is by cruelty or kindness. We take a more long-term view. What is best for the majority—over time.”

“So you have no desire to be cruel?”

“Again, that concept is irrelevant to us. We are here to serve.”

“Who or what do you serve?”

“In a sense, we serve a race above us, that is our superior. In another sense, we serve ourselves by encouraging all intelligent beings below us to serve themselves—by first serving us.”

“You talk in circles!”

“Not at all. The concept is simply new to you.”

“Where does freedom of choice enter into this?” Ali asked.

“Freedom of choice exists for those above us—when it comes to us. They can order us what to do. Freedom of choice exists for us—when it comes to you. Soon we will begin to order your lives.”

Ali snorted. “I hardly think so.”

“Your sarcasm is noted, but is irrelevant. We accept that we have superiors. In time, you will accept that we are your superiors. You will also appreciate what we do for you. It is true, as we first get to know each other, that it seems we are only interested in conquest. Over time you will see that we are more interested in establishing a hierarchy.”

“I don’t understand. What is this hierarchy?”

“All our relationships are based on hierarchy. Those above us, control us. Soon, we will control you, and with our help, you will expand in power and conquer other races. Then you
will control those races. All of this represents a hierarchy based on control.”

“But you’re saying, right now, you have freedom to do with
us
as you like?”