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  IRA did not need to play any role or assume any form other than his own in front of Caleb. So he, too, stood at his full, majestic height and spread his light in the same gorgeous shades of red that POTUS had bathed in earlier. Caleb’s aura, in contrast was a milky white-gold.

  IRA challenged Caleb with a furor: “Just surrender. Recognize that the Dark Forces have finally tipped the balance, and the pendulum of the Earth and its weak and miserable inhabitants is no longer under the control of the Divine Plan. For billions of years this autocratic dynasty of ‘His’ love and light have inspired and controlled the fates of their world. And now, with just a bit of simple strategic centuries of planning, technology, sex, and ego, our side—the right side—will take over the design of structure and community on Earth. Thank you very much.” IRA spat his words. “You will watch helplessly as mankind succumbs to its own issues of fear, greed, power, ambition, ego, and lust as their main goal and source of all human energy.”

  Caleb smiled and acknowledged the words and energy that IRA conveyed. He validated the triumphs and dedication that the Dark Forces had worked with and applauded their patience.

  Caleb was calm in his response. “You are only counting on what you project onto them. You do not credit them for being able to decide and choose. That is going to be your downfall, my brother.” Caleb turned to leave and started to vibrate and illuminate ever more brightly. His parting thoughts to IRA could be heard echoing as he left:

  “Do not discount the power of love, IRA. I know it has been a long time since experiencing the light of that Word and the power of that Source, but it is the Divine Plan’s ultimate gift to mankind. Like it or not, it is in their cellular structure—something you can mask, but never destroy.”

  * * *

  IRA’s auric field blazed a fiery red-orange glow as he heard this. Then he regained his composure and smiled evilly to himself. “I have not forgotten that at all, Caleb. I am actually counting on it.” Then he dematerialized into a mist of gray.

  CHAPTER

  57

  POTUS stood on the edge of the pool of passion, as he now referred to it. Gazing at the beauty of this place, he walked over and sat on a large boulderlike seat and started to reflect on his earthly life.

  This place, or dimension, enabled him to view his life and moments from his earthly family like watching a videotape or film of his soul. It was all recorded and retrievable. He was able to watch events that he had not been able to remember before: events and conversations that came back as clearly as if they had occurred just moments ago.

  He watched his father hold him and speak to him, rocking him in his arms as a newborn. He saw his mother come into the nursery to tell his father that he needed to put the baby down so that both could get some needed sleep. Deep in thought about his father and his mother, “It doesn’t make any sense,” he murmured, thinking back on the course of his life—and theirs.

  While growing up, before his dad passed, his dad had been there for him every second of every day, answering questions and drying tears, cheering for the young Marcus when he achieved even the smallest thing in the classroom or on the playing field. His mom, God bless her, had tried her best after she lost her spouse and best friend, but grief had scored the rest of her life, and she had never been the same. Still, the love was there. The energy of the father had continued to pass through the mother to the son. He had felt it then, even though he had not had the vocabulary to express it. His father was there. He was always there, POTUS knew.

  But where was his father now? Why had he not been the person that had come to welcome him? This thought gnawed at POTUS. Maybe there had been something that he had done wrong on Earth. But looking back on their time together, he couldn’t think of anything. He had been a good kid, for the most part, always eager to please his parents. He could not remember a single time his dad had raised his hand in punishment, nor his mom.

  Feeling dejected and defeated, and still more than a bit confused, POTUS looked up and saw IRA standing knee-deep in the pool of passion, absorbing energy from that place. POTUS wondered why he had not seen him there before. They were only some thirty feet apart. Again, something struck POTUS as “odd.” Although everything was incredibly odd, this still didn’t “feel” right.

  This other realm or dimension was so complicated. There were multiple levels of access that some of the more evolved energies could experience and some from which he and others were shut out from because of their lack of evolution on this side. So complicated … All those years of Sunday school teaching that there was this good place called Heaven and the bad place called Hell—you either went up to Heaven or down to Hell. They didn’t tell you that you just went.

  Then, within his mind and with a physical sensation, POTUS felt he was being pulled toward another pool. It seemed the more questions he asked the stronger the pull became. He looked around, beyond IRA in the red pool, and realized he was being summoned to appear before the Governor and the Council of Elders.

  POTUS sensed the pull rapidly growing in intensity. He wanted to reach out to IRA to stop this, to seek his guidance on how he should respond.… But IRA was totally caught up in the ecstasy of the pool of passion and was apparently not able to feel or see POTUS or accept his thought-energy. The President felt that he was now completely on his own, that this was a moment of reckoning—perhaps a showdown with the Governor once and for all.

  He had thought, hoped, that he was beyond such struggles now, on this side of existence. But he was still frustrated, disappointed in himself and his situation. He had to get up to speed on this new form of existence. His old impatience reared its head within him. He knew so little, needed to know more. But he did know without a doubt that his soul was hanging in the balance.

  CHAPTER

  58

  The President had been summoned to the chamber of the Council of Elders once again. This time he did not feel the sense of awe and mystery he had previously experienced. Instead, he had an odd sensation of belonging, of being home. He had undergone not only physical and metaphysical transformations but a shift of knowledge as if he had taken on a new mantle over his shoulders and a new pair of shoes that fit him perfectly. Almost imperceptible, yet all too real …

  “I was sent here for a purpose,” he said as he reached the center of the circle, addressing all the Elders but looking at no one in particular. He stood beside the Governor, feeling a great serenity through his entire being.

  The Governor addressed the Council: “Wise men and women, angels and beings of this higher realm, I speak for you and in your voice as the elected leader. And in that role I have been empowered to speak the meanings that the Source has given to our minds. That One who created us and conceived of this world for our benefit and grace selected each of us to play a role in the earthly order and beyond—in this, the purely spiritual plane that opens to us after release from the physical limitations we once knew.”

  “I am beginning to understand,” POTUS said.

  “That is why you were chosen, not only because you achieved a unique status on Earth but also because your heart was tested and found worthy of true leadership and service.”

  “I now know there is really no such thing as power on an individual basis. As the so-called leader of the free world and the mightiest military force in existence, even I could not do everything I wanted or implement changes that would improve people’s lives. I truly intended to do good and to institute reforms in government and international policy. At every turn I faced frustration by political forces beyond my control. And the harder I worked, the less I seemed to be able to accomplish.”

  “That is the way of the realm on Earth. You confronted the Dark Energies every day of your life. It is true that you did not defeat them. But the crucial fact is, you never gave up the struggle against evil and injustice. If you had lived longer on that side, the result would not have been materially different.”

  “Do you mean there is no hope for victory over
evil on Earth?”

  “Oh, there is always hope, as long as we remain close to the Creator of all that is good and tap into that infinite Source of power. Look around at this Council, and you will see many who never abandoned hope and constantly engaged in the eternal struggle.”

  POTUS trained his vision on the faces of the spirits gathered in the Council of Elders. Many were, in fact familiar, from his own earthly life span in the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries, and from the annals of history. Mother Teresa of Calcutta was one he could not help but recognize immediately—others such as the patriarch Joseph, son of Jacob; Pericles of ancient Athens; the philosopher Lao Tzu; and the French scientist Marie Curie he somehow recognized through instinct or unspoken knowledge. One figure stepped from among the others and walked with great dignity toward the President and the Governor.

  The American leader studied the face—that is, the reflection of the earthly face that each of the entities in the assembly carried as a mark of his or her former existence on Earth—and did not recognize it. The male being manifested great strength, power beyond the merely physical. He had a dark complexion, and when he spoke, his voice held a surprising musical quality.

  “My respected friend,” he began, addressing POTUS. “My birth name is Abu I-Hasan, but those who knew me during my lifetime called me Ziryab. That name means ‘blackbird.’ Perhaps you can allow me a few moments out of eternity, to visit with you.”

  “But of course,” POTUS replied.

  Ziryab was speaking in classical Arabic, but the now-deceased President of the United States absorbed and understood every word spoken to him, as, he assumed, did each member of the Council of Elders. So this is how human beings were meant to communicate with and to relate to one another … across barriers of time, space, and language. Why is it only possible here and not on Earth?

  POTUS thought of the story of the Tower of Babel. Men—humankind—had thought so well of their own powers that they chose to build a tower to heaven, without considering what greater power and spiritual foundation might underlie their earthly achievements. Well, that higher power (Creator, God, Allah, whomever he or she would turn out to be) had confounded the humans by screwing up their communications, making each speak a distinct language not understood by the others.… That was then. Is it so different now? he wondered.

  “In my time, I was a slave, a musician, and a scholar. More important—in my time, I was a human being with a soul and aspirations to please Allah, the God of Abraham who revealed Himself to the righteous,” the remarkable figure said. He held up a lute, which POTUS had not noticed him carrying, and the entire Great Hall of the Elders was filled with an unreal, magical music that touched every soul within its reach. “Such music was the great love of my seventy years of life among men in Baghdad, Syria, Tunisia, Africa, and Spain. It was not the custom for one born a slave to see so much of the world, but God granted the privilege to me most generously. God is good, in all times and places.

  “What I saw and experienced moved me to apply all my powers and talents, which I learned from many masters, to help improve conditions for fellow men and women in those distant lands. This I did, to the best of my abilities, and lived in many glittering capitals and many a hovel. I slept in soft beds and along hard roadsides in the desert. Something moved me to expend the energies I was given to serve others who had not my gifts. That something is what motivates and sustains us today. That something is Allah, God, Creator, Way. God wishes us to share at our maximum level with the other creatures we encounter in our travels.

  “Not all will travel to faraway cities. Some of us remain in one place our entire lives. But you and I—and most in this chamber of the Elders—saw many faces in our lifetimes. Those faces are now turned to you. What will you say to them? What will you do to relieve their suffering and that of their children?”

  The powerful message washed over the President like a tsunami, sweeping all other thoughts aside and leaving him staggered.

  He had never before heard of Ziryab, who had lived from 789 to 857 and had been revered and applauded by all who knew him from Spain to Mesopotamia, in royal courts and caravans of poor travelers. But the spiritual and cultural achievements of this one man of humble birth all became known to POTUS in this moment, opening his mind to a previously dark period in human history.

  Why had I never read about this man? What are the true depths of my ignorance?

  Murmurs arose from among the Council, and Ziryab stepped back among the others with a courteous bow to the newcomer and the Governor. With a smile, the Governor said simply, “So it is with the Source—all things are possible in goodness. Revelation is all around us, if we are open to receive the word that is spoken in many tongues and understood by all.”

  POTUS had been fairly conscientious in going to church and understanding his religious faith as a younger man, but upon becoming President, he had begun to see such matters in a much different light. He had prayed more often and with greater purpose than ever before in his life. His wife had noticed the difference and appreciated it. She encouraged him to pray and sometimes joined him in the evening before bed in quiet, private moments.

  As he listened to the words of Ziryab and the Governor, he could suddenly and quite clearly remember every prayer he had ever uttered and every Bible passage he had ever read or heard proclaimed at whatever church service he had attended. Remarkable. This transformation was opening him up not unlike a flower responding to rain or sunlight.

  “So I have been directly called, as have all who are present, for a distinct purpose,” said Marcus.

  “Yes,” the Governor of the Elders said.

  “As have all the members of this Council? It is no accident that any are here.”

  “There are no accidents in the movements of the Source. There are accidents and mistakes in the realm of the humans and in the flailings of the Dark Energies. That does not mean we are perfect—not by any means.”

  Another figure appeared in Marcus’s vision, a strange and ugly figure in sharp contrast to the handsome, vigorous form that had spoken a moment before. This one moved with a slouch, holding his hands crossed in front of him.

  The President reacted with disgust at the sight: It was Adolf Hitler, the definition of evil.

  CHAPTER

  59

  “What is this!” POTUS exclaimed. “Who is this man?”

  “It is what you know it is,” the Governor answered.

  The loathsome figure said nothing but gazed at the President with a bottomless sadness and despair in his black eyes. POTUS could conceive of nothing more repellent or out of place.

  POTUS shouted, or conceived and projected the words as loudly as he could to express the outrage he felt over seeing Hitler here. Hitler started toward him, and POTUS raised his hand and pointed at him. “Don’t you even come close to me, you perverted piece of shit!”

  At that moment, everyone in the Hall of Governing Wisdom turned to look at the new arrival as if he were a child in church who had dropped the F-bomb. The Governor of the Council of Elders addressed this outburst interacting directly with POTUS for the first time, chastising POTUS for making a judgment.

  “You are new here, so we will allow your indiscretion, brother. All of the people who are in this room are here for a purpose. In the physical world they played a role, acted as a character, and in some cases were inspired by the Dark Forces. But in the Divine Light of the Source, the Universal Oneness that we are all a part of, there is no judgment, only justness. The man you see as the iconic ambassador of evil is no more that monster here than you are in one of your past incarnations. The longer you are here, the less you will judge and react to things in your earthly frame of reference, and the more you will learn to view things with a loving heart and soul.”

  POTUS reacted immediately, and involuntarily from the earthly perspective that still clung to him. “That is the biggest crock of bullshit I have ever heard, and believe me, with twenty years in
the army and seven years in Washington, I have heard my share. That monster was responsible for one of the greatest genocides in the history of mankind! How could you—?”

  In the middle of his rant, POTUS suddenly discovered that Hitler was no longer there. Neither was the Governor nor the Council nor even the Hall of Governing Wisdom. IRA had instantly phased or transitioned them to another place.

  “I see that we are in another place,” POTUS said. “Are we in another time as well?”

  “What is time?” Abraham Lincoln asked. “It is merely a device to keep everything from happening all at once. The best thing about the future is that it doesn’t all happen at once.”

  POTUS started to respond to Lincoln, but he was gone as quickly as he had appeared.

  “You don’t understand,” IRA said.

  “Apparently I don’t. Not if someone like Hitler can be here. Who else is here? Stalin? Attila the Hun? Jeffrey Dahmer?”

  “Hitler’s soul is in transition,” IRA explained. “He needs to feel, and to experience the pain and suffering of the people’s lives he destroyed in the name of his plan.”

  “His plan?

  “Well, it is a plan more of Ego than God. The Council needs Hitler to see and understand the process of spiritual evolution in a much larger perspective.”

  “How do you do that?” POTUS asked.

  “I’m not a member of the Council,” IRA said. “But the way it works is that everyone has to do something called a Life Review, where they unpack their last life.”

  “I see.”

  “I’m not sure that you do see, but I will try to explain it to you. Hitler has to take full responsibility for the actions of his soul while he was alive. He can’t just cross over to the kingdom of God and stand in that light and yell out, ‘I am sorry’ and all is forgiven. All may be forgiven here, but all is certainly not forgotten. He lives in an eternal state of pain for all the countless lives he took, and he must now serve the greater good in a way he never did on Earth.”