#26.21 - Atlantis, once more

I'm back writing about Atlantis. I have been away for almost a month now. Perhaps it had to happen. It has been an awful month that silence. The silence because I can no longer bear to face the tedium of each day and yet this is better than what Syrian refugees are facing. 

I am reading about the life of Herod. That crazy king - the man who is a wolf. Hard to believe that people could be so obsessed with power that they would stop at nothing - literally. That there are no holds on their ravenous nature. Ordering the killing of anyone who would cross their path. There was even a story that he had his wife killed then embalmed in honey and then he continued to have sex with her.

Previously these stories would have made me think, ok, people are mad. But now - they make me feel nausea. A disgust. Perhaps that is what it is - the disgust. The wholesale disgust towards everyone right now with the entire mess they have created and then continued with the self preservation. Trump, Johnson, Obama, you name it - these people are not leaders - they are idiots. They are puppets for the billionaires of the world - entranced like the prey of angler fish by the dancing lights. That's how I feel now. I cannot but feel just wall-to-wall despair and that's the truth. And previously their stupid did not affect me - but now it does. The stupid has washed up on my shores and my feet are heavy with it. 

And I still could not have done anything to stop it. I did try and think of trying but I was seen as too shrill, too mouthy, too shouty, too defiant. Too everything. Everything.

I can't cope anymore. It is too much.

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It feel good, not to eat. I will go out soon. But I want to write for the next half an hour about Atlantis. I return to it. I remember now - I stopped because of Sirius. I read back and it is not bad at all. It is fine. It is ok. It is not the worst. In fact it is quite good. I must never stop until it is done. The good news is that I have a dozen installments. This is the 13th. Never lose faith girl. Never. You can do this.

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They came from Sirius. The brightest star in our skies. The brightest star that follows the hunter. The rising of Sirius was the start of the harvest. It was a time of plenty and pleasure. A time of ease. A time of intoxication and giddiness. Sirius. Our dog star. The dog that followed the hunter. And now the dog that turns predator.

And... asks Aminata.

And... Darshan knows what she is asking. And they - really they just want to return. 

Return? Darshan, said Aminata, they do not want to return. 

Why not?

They cannot return because their home was destroyed. Nothing is left for them. They have to stay or - leave. 

So, we must make room for them then?

Yes, I suppose so.

They have a funny way of asking for help.

I know, said Animata. I know.

After a short silence, Darshan says, perhaps we won't be able to help them. Perhaps -

Don't even say it, said Aminata. Don't even say it.

Then they both sit in a long silence. Aminata takes his hand and holds it to her face. It is broad and rough and fills her with a stirring desire. Darshan looks out of the window - or he tries to. He feels ugly and disfigured and helpless. It is alright, she whispers. I know what to do.

*

We must leave now, says Darhsan. 

But what about Mu? asks his first mate.

I know, what about Mu, Darshan says roughly. We are not the bloody navy. We are a merchant mission. 

Mu has no defences. 

We don't know if they are unfriendly yet, Darshan says. The most important thing is to return to Atlantis and let everyone know what has happened. The Council will know what to do, Darshan says. Quietly to himself, silently, he thinks, we have to protect Atlantis. He thinks about Ama. She is ready to leave. She has accepted her death. There is something about his mind which has suddenly become a cold hard trap. Nothing my metallic surfaces, every sentimentality sterilised and wiped clean from its bright unrelenting corners.

Darshan! the control operator shouts. 

Darshan sees it, a bolt of light escaping into the skies and then air shuddering then, everything shatters - everything. Trees, temples, rivers throw their water into the air and now the air is raining stones and splinters and mud. 

We leave now! said Darshan. Mu has fallen. Mu has been falling for decades now... now it is gone. I must accept it. He closes his eyes. Quick! he shouts over the chaos. Quick now - we must start.

The craft is secured and Darshan and the five pilots get into the Nucleus. They shut their eyes and a curtain of sound is drawn around them. From now on, they will be oblivious to everything, except their craft and the other vimanas. They will stay like this until they arrive in Atlantis.

The rest of the craft stake their seats. Their task is to lend the captain and pilots their own Astralities. Darshan always recalls the first day he did this. It was a feeling so complete, as if he was born to fly.

The craft rise and hover for a second and then with the grace and wonder of a swarm all eight vimanas begin to move as one, like a flock of starling or a swarm of bees. Something like that. They are in perfect harmony. Darshan thinks, we will be able to get out. We did this in time. They start to drift, they start to move, they start to slide, then glide, and then suddenly there is a violent tug on the corner of his consciousness. It is sharp pull which jolts the Dreamers. They all feel it and instinctively know what has happened. One of the ships is in danger. 

Darshan, what will we do? 

It is unquestionable - they must not get their hands on even a single one of these ships.

We bring it home. 

*