Make IT Real!, Sander R.B.E. Beals [uplifting novels .TXT] 📗

And among those that love that kind of imagery, there are various types. Surely, the world is better off if the types that love violent sex stick to jacking off to (simulated) rape pictures, instead of going out and doing it themselves. Your mind does not know the difference, remember?

Some might even see this as an Illuminati attempt to take the emphasis off physical intercourse, in order to diminish world population, but somehow that seems ineffective to me. Especially since most of the world's population still aren't on the Web.....

No, bear with me on this: what if this whole exercise is simply nudging people to do what they love most, without judgment of any kind? Could it be conceivable that Selina had been drawn into this by someone who might want her to become highly attractive to a certain person? Someone who wouldn't judge her because of it, but rather loved her even more? But how would they know that? Mind reading may be a possibility, but what if there would be no need to read minds, because the memories were our own?

And slowly but surely, the concept of this whole novel is emerging from the depths of the Timeless All, where it has always been present.

The one thing I'm still trying to wrap my neurons around is this whole manifestation thing, where you wish for something, and then acquire it no questions asked from a known or unknown source. I know it works, I've seen it work on multiple occasions, but some concept in between wishing and getting is still unclear to me. Maybe I'll never get it, but then 'maybe' is a very flexible concept if time is the illusion which I hold it to be now.....

Right now, there seems to be a lull in writing: my two daughters occupy both couches, and I will retire to get inspired for more writing tomorrow morning. I could hand over the torch to my future self, but unfortunately he has been deeply involved in his latest reading craze......

'Bound for the city'

I don’t think I’ve ever been so rested in all my life. Usually I wake up six, seven times a night, but now I’ve not even been awake once. I walk to the girls' room in my sleeping attire, and find them awake also. At that moment I see Sinan joining us, holding a small machine in his hand. “Here, I thought you might need this.” he says to me. He explains it is what we would call a razor, only vastly improved: it removes the hairs of my beard, and causes the follicles to become less productive. Hence you only need to do this once every month, instead of every day. I try the device, and find it easy to work with. In less than five minutes my beard seems to be totally gone, leaving my chin smoother than a baby’s bottom. After that, Sinan shows me the shower. It is a cylindrical space, that has clothing hooks on the inside. “Won’t my clothes get wet that way?” I ask Sinan. He smiles, and replies: “Ah yes, you outsiders have showers that use lots of water. This uses sonic waves, much more thorough, and even your clothes get cleaned if you hang them on the hooks.” I thank him, and get into the cylinder. I kind of miss the sensation of water running down my body, but do definitely feel the vibrations of the sonic shower. As I turn it up, I feel my body reacting: the oncoming sonic waves seem to excite my chakras, one by one. I can feel them humming in unison with the zooming sound of the shower. Now that is a thoroughly enjoyable situation, which lasts long after I’ve stepped out of the shower, and dressed myself. I go up to the living room, to wait for the ladies. Of course they too will be going through the shower ritual, before coming up.

By the time everybody arrives in the living area, the round table comes up, carrying various bowls of fruit. Mayra explains that breakfast here consists mainly of fruit, and there seems to be plenty of it. Some of the fruits are well known in our outside world, but there are just as many unknowns. All taste great however, as we discover later.

After breakfast, Sinan proposes that we walk into town, to meet the Elders. As he explains to us, these twelve people make sure everything goes all right in the city. As it is possible to see the Elders’ sphere from the living area, we all agree. We take the disc down to street level, and exit the house. As we are walking across the streets, it occurs to me that the Inner Earth people are very friendly. Even though the four of us are readily recognizable as being outsiders, they greet us nevertheless, some of them even stopping to welcome us down here. All in all, it takes us about a half an hour to reach the Elders’ home, a place where all twelve of them live. It is a somewhat larger sphere, with eight levels instead of the six we got used to. As we meet them on the top floor of their building, Valerie remarks to me how these twelve are the first elderly people she’s seen. Sinan laughs, and asks her to guess his own age. Valerie looks at him, looks at me, and utters a questioning “Forty-two?”. “Higher” is the laughing reply, “Much higher!” Sinan explains how he was born into this life almost eight hundred and sixty years ago. Inner Earth people, as one of the Elders explains, have conquered the age problem, being able to live to arbitrary ages. They also can pretty much choose which age they want to look. Where most Inner Earth people decide to stop aging around forty, the Elders have decided they would look somewhat older, to accentuate their status. Not that they feel more important than anyone else.......

As we are all seated in a circle, one of the Elders speaks:

“The seat of government for the Inner Earth is Shamballah the Lesser, a cluster of about one hundred subterranean cities, where the inhabitants are about twelve feet tall. It has satellite colonies that are located just below the Earth’s surface, or hidden in mountains. These outer colonies are the sources for many mystic schools on the surface. In the past, we decided to live underground, because of the magnitude of the geological changes that swept the surface over the past one hundred thousand years. Also, the warring between the Atlanteans and the Lemurians, which eventually destroyed both civilizations, was reason to go below the surface. Even today’s surface shows the result of this war, in the form of deserts on several continents.”

As the speaking Elder steps back, another takes her place. He tells of how, in the Inner Earth civilization nowadays, they have an important task: keeping Mother Earth in shape notwithstanding the activities of her surface population. As it turns out, the Inner Earth people retrieve whatever waste we surface people put into the ground, and render it harmless. Of course they'd love to teach us how to do that ourselves, but as long as there is no open contact between the races, that is unfortunately out of the question. I look at Gina, and tell her that it's hard to wait for that to happen. She laughs, and tells me: “It will happen at it's appointed time. And that may be quite a lot sooner than you think...”

Sinan explains to the Elders that Kayim will take us on a tour of the Interior, and gets a few pointers on must-visit sites. We thank the Elders, and leave them. We stroll back to the family home, to prepare for the afternoon outing.

Saturday, March 13th, 2010, 05:55

Jane's cell phone wakes me up, with the incessant alarm that is not quite succeeding in waking her from the dead. My little one is a night creature, like I used to be as a kid, but this time she's bitten off more than she could chew: She probably figured to be awoken by the joyful tones of the phone, but so far it isn't getting anywhere fast. I decide to let her sleep some more, because even though she would love to be awake that early, her higher self must have realized she'd sleep right through it.

Better get me some coffee, the default beverage of both programmers and writers. Come to think of it, programmers are writers too, but they write code instead of mere words. And you know what they say about that, don't you? “If you were meant to understand it, we wouldn't have called it code!” So, coffee it is!

While the coffee is brewing, I make short work of the website. It is more a matter of intuition than real hard work. Vicky sent me a channel from S333, which I top off with Pixie's work on 666 and similar patternings. I briefly look for anything worthwhile on 999, but search results have obviously been stacked by my higher self: nothing but games and commercial stuff, both not particularly interesting.

I can see I'm not quite ready yet. Better use another half hour to arouse my intuition about what future Sander will be doing in the next chapter.....

4444AD, Day 225, 06:12, Workshop

To the sound of Rush's Red Barchetta, I cherish the lines of the old lady standing right here in my workshop: she's a two-tone Bugatti Veyron, a car from the apogee of the 21st century automotive industry. We haven't outlawed them, like the Rush song hinted at, but instead some of us, like me, worship selected samples as a token of our appreciation for that era. Combustion engine or not, the beauty in a machine like the Bugatti Veyron is beyond compare.

I've rescued this one from a colossal pile-up on the German autobahn, by replacing it with an equivalent mass of scrap right before the impact in 2022.

Or what to think of the fiery red Snaefell-Laverda sidecar? I was proud as a peacock to have been able to rescue that from the wrecker's cruncher. It's is a one of, handcrafted by a guy with a lot of love for high technology. Although it is a motorbike with a sidecar, it looks more like a successful hybrid of the two: a kick-ass Laverda motorcycle, and a very compact Lamborghini-like sports car.

Although running combustion engines would be unwise in this environment, I've retro-fitted my Bugatti with twin torque generators, which just about fit the space that the crank shafts used to rotate in. Since these generators make hardly any noise, I've had to rig something to arrive at the typical engine sounds of machines from that era. It took me a while, but I managed to acquired sound samples for my toys. From that, it is quite doable to have a synthesizer punch up a realistic replica of the revving of the engine based on the movements of the accelerator.

Today, the upholstery of the Veyron is in dire need of restoration. I've been putting that off for far too long, but soon I want to take these two ladies to an AncientTech event down in Hamburg. With my extra strength fingers I loosen the bolts that attach the driver's seat to the floor, and take it out. It isn't damaged very much, just a few patches of wear around the part where the backside of my upper legs rub against the leather. So, just redoing the upholstery on the seat will suffice.

Of course I wouldn't have access to cream-colored leather, since livestock are no longer slaughtered for such products, but I have a better plan: I pick up the surface scanner from it's cradle, and place it on the part of the seat that's still in prime condition. It buzzes for a few seconds, then beeps to inform me it's made a high resolution 3D surface scan of the Bugatti's leather seat