Authors: David Sloma
“And what point is that?” Charles asked, blinking.
“Where you find your world view is unraveling. The point at which the lies we've been told start to come apart. You're not the first one to have visions under LSD about DNA that turned out to be true. Dr. Timothy Leary reported in the 1960's that some of his trips involved him spiraling down the historic pathway of his own DNA and gaining insight from his ancestors. Many of these experiences have been reported and much of the information has been verified. We know that LSD can do this, so I'm not surprised you've had this sort of experience. I've had similar myself.”
“It's hard to believe...until it happens to you.”
“It's not something that is widely spoken about, nor taught in regular schools. And you won't hear it on the six o' clock news!” The professor laughed. Charles had to laugh a little too, to let off some steam.
“Alright. OK, so this is real, this ability to use our own consciousness as a microscope, to look into our own DNA,” Charles stated.
“Yes.” The professor nodded. “And it has been going on for a long time, and also the genetic manipulation, from ancient times. There are cave paintings with this symbol in them. Apparently, our cave-dwelling ancestors had some of the same experiences you’ve had, albeit with naturally occurring psychoactive plants. Or maybe with aliens, I'm not ruling that out.”
“Amazing. But what about this symbol, then? Someone placed it in our DNA thousands of years ago? Unless it's a natural formation?”
“It's not natural in the sense that it just happened, no. It was placed there.”
“So, you're saying that someone messed with our DNA a long time ago?”
“That is precisely what has happened, yes.”
Charles looked from the professor and glanced around the lab, but he wasn't really seeing much, as his mind was reeling. “So, this means...”
“The best educated guess, with plenty of evidence, is that we were visited in our ancient past by beings not from this Earth. Call them what you like, but they were not from here. They altered our DNA, but more precisely, they were working to change it
back
to what it had been
before
they found it. We believe the symbol is the mark they left on the DNA they had repaired.”
“Wait a minute! You're telling me that some aliens came to Earth a long time ago and messed with our DNA in an attempt to change it back to what it had been before someone
else
changed it in the first place? Who? Other aliens?”
“Yes, Charles. Two separate alien races, with different agendas. I know it's a lot to take in, but there are ancient stories that talk about this very thing. And there are people who know all this, have known it since antiquity.”
“Then why don't we all know it, then?”
“Ah!” The professor wagged his finger. “Why not, indeed! Let's just say for now that knowledge is power, hmm? So, for those wanting power over the majority of humanity, what better way to secure that power than to withhold knowledge from them?”
“It's that simple? But wouldn't the truth get out?”
“It always does; it's getting out, now, here with us.” The professor smiled. He watched Charles and knew he was having a hard time digesting this all. He'd had a hard time himself.
Charles got up from the stool and ran his hand through his hair. He paced the floor, his eyes darting around, wild. “So...so...our DNA was changed a long time ago. For what? Why?”
“The story is that an evil force came to Earth when humanity were still living in caves and barely had any language skills. This force originated from one being who had gone insane and was out for whatever power and control he could take over the beings of whatever planet he came across. Sound familiar?” The professor smiled. “Might explain a lot about what's going on in the world today, if some of his descendants are still around, eh?”
“Maybe. So, this being was an alien?”
“Alien to the Earth. More like a powerful being who had turned to darkness. A sort of fallen angel, you could say.”
“Like in the Bible.”
“Pretty close. Not all that's in there is bunk, you know? There's actually a good deal of truth, if you know where to look and how to look.”
“So, this fallen angel...”
“The Dark One.”
“The Dark One. He came to Earth and changed our DNA?”
“He was not able to come to Earth himself, but he directed the changes that were made by his agents, his servants, in order that we would be better slaves for him. You see, he had, and still has, a mission for us. We're to be his workers to carry out his plan to open up this prison we’re in, then he’ll really be able to get us!”
“A prison. You mean the Earth?”
“Yes, that's exactly what I mean.” The professor filled Charles in on the story about how the angels construed the energy barrier around the Earth to keep the Dark One out, how the Greys were trapped inside it, and how the Watchers were working to help restore the life forms on Earth to their past untainted state of freedom.
“This is too wild, you know that?” Charles said, after the professor had related the story.
“I realize how it sounds. I was once in your position, just coming into the truth.” The professor moved around the lab, tidying up papers and things. “It’s not like we’re primed to hear such things by society, or the media, or our schools, or our parents. It’s quite the opposite. Unless we’re fortunate enough to go to a good school where they teach
how
to think, we are simply told
what
to think.”
“Big difference.”
“Yeah! If you know how to think, you can begin to work out some of these things for yourself.”
“So, how did this knowledge, these stories, survive all this time if hardly anyone’s heard of them?”
“Oh, plenty of people have heard of them throughout time. Maybe not as much as the masses, no, but enough that there are a good number of people on Earth who know the truth. I’d say most all of the rich, so-called elite know the real story and are keeping it from the rest of us.”
“Hell of a thing to do.” Charles shook his head. He’d found out so many strange things lately, his head felt like it was full—but there was more to come.
“You’re probably wondering how I know about all this?”
“The thought had crossed my mind,” Charles admitted. “It’s not the kind of knowledge a college professor usually comes across.”
“No, it’s not. But, I’ve always had an interest in things off the beaten path. That's part of the reason why I hired myself out as a private contractor after I retired; I had more things to find out. The money that came in allowed me to continue my own lines of research. Then one day I had a client that gave me some work that lead to me finding the very same symbol that you've found.”
“Come on! You’re kidding?”
“No. It happened.”
“And you didn’t let on…until now?” Charles stammered.
“No, I really couldn't at the time, but I was given the go-ahead for now.”
“Go-ahead. What are you talking about?”
“The people I’ve been working for the last few years are an exclusive bunch. They are a secret society, keepers of ancient knowledge, like the story I’ve told you about our origins.”
“They hired you? To look for the DNA symbol?”
“Yes. They knew the symbol was there, of course. But they wanted to check the advancement of some recent DNA experiments and wanted to hire an independent lab for the job. I was picked and had to sign a confidentially agreement, of course. But once I found out about the symbol, I was as surprised as you were and outraged, even!”
“Why were you upset?”
“Well, weren’t you, at having been lied to all your life?” The professor coughed and took a drink of water. The memory of that day still got to him.
“I was, yes…but I thought it was a mistake.”
“Oh, this group assured me that it was no mistake! They knew it was there and had been following my exploits for some time, gauging how I’d react. They became aware of me during my time on campus in the Sixties; seems the psychedelic underground is vast and has many eyes.”
“So, then what happened? After you found the symbol for them?”
“Well, they told me who they were and that they were in need of a sympathetic scientist, one they could bring work to, someone who would understand what they were doing. And who would not keep asking questions and maybe turn them in to the authorities.”
“What they were…are doing…is illegal?”
The professor shrugged. “Some of it, I’m sure. Depends what country you are in and when!” He winked. “In any case, I liked what they were about and said I would help them. In return, they have been paying me well, and I’ve not needed another client. I told them what you had found, and they said it was alright to let you into the “club” as well.”
“They must have been watching me, too?”
“Naturally! It’s not just Big Brother who keeps tabs on people, you know? Sometimes the good side does it as well, to further its aims.”
“I guess...Now, what do we do?”
“I’m going to continue on like I have been doing. The question is what are you going to do?”
“I have been thinking of quitting my job. I just can’t stand to be around there anymore, working on their military contracts. There’s no way they are going to let me direct any of my own research, which I had been promised. Now, with what I’ve found out…”
“So, come join me and my employers.”
“Do they have a name?”
“They call themselves the Guild of the Watchers.”
“Good name for a secret group.”
“They go by many names and have done so throughout the centuries. There have been many splinters of their group spread over the world. It was the way they survived the persecution and genocide that has been directed at them throughout history; they knew too many secrets and had too much knowledge for the powers-that-be to let them alone.”
“I see…”
“Technology is forcing them to come out of hiding and to take action to stem the current tide of genetic manipulation. They fear that the good work that has been going on through the ages to turn back the DNA of the life forms on Earth to its original state is in jeopardy. And with good reason! The things that are possible now put all life on Earth at risk. Those in control of such technologies are not the most sane ones, I’m sure you’ve noticed.”
“I have. So, what’s the plan?”
“Get yourself out of your job, and we’ll take it from there. I think you’re in a dangerous situation now, knowing what you know. The sooner you get out of there, the better.”
“I think you’re right. Couldn’t agree more.”
“And, I think the group could help you, and you them. What do you think?”
“Sure, sounds good to me.”
“It's not without its risks, though, I warn you. This group is very secretive and gaining power all the time—but I do believe it's power for the good side.”
“They sound like the good guys to me.”
“I know they are. Very well, I will let them know what you've found and that you are in need of a job, or will be very soon. Who knows, we might end up working together on this.”
The professor got up and went to the door. “Come on, let’s close this place up and go back upstairs for a drink. I think we both could use one.”
“You got that right.” Charles followed him out of the lab. He took a lingering glance back as the door closed over, thinking that he was entering another world that had been in front of him the whole time, but he hadn’t known it.
“And, Charles,” the professor said, turning back to him, standing there in the shadows. “I'm going to need you to keep what I've told you to yourself for now. That's for your protection and for mine. And for the group’s. I hope one day soon we can tell the world what's going on, but it's a war we're in.”
“I see that. Don't worry, I won't say anything to anyone.”
“Good man!” The professor patted Charles on the back, and they went up the stairs, returning to the living room for another drink.
CHAPTER 24
Charles went back to work and played it cool, trying his best to just follow the routine. That was tough, as he knew things were not as they seemed. Seeing the unexpected patterns in the DNA he had tested, in particular the symbol, had him wondering what his own DNA looked like. He was amazed that he'd never thought to check before now.
One day at the lab, when he'd done his work for the day and had a few minutes to spare, he took a scraping of some of his own skin cells and put them under the electron microscope.
That's when he found the same strange pattern on his DNA, three green circles intertwined.
He had to sit down at the microscope as he felt the room was about to “swim.” He'd never had panic attacks before, but he imagined this is what they were like. He breathed in deeply and then out.
Getting up slowly and keeping his hand on the edge of the table, he managed to walk over to the water cooler and get a drink of cold water. That helped some, and he was able to clear his head a bit. But now he was really shook and confused. He wondered, How do I have the same markings? He had already come to terms with the fact that he'd received some true information from that acid trip, but now this...
This changes everything, he thought. Now, not only did he need to get away from his job due to the human cells he'd found, but he knew they'd never support an inquiry into this symbol he'd found on the DNA. Something very strange is going on here, far stranger than I had expected, he thought.
It was getting late in the day, so he put his own skin sample in the pocket of his shirt discreetly, so the cameras couldn’t see, and finished whatever tasks he had for the day.
He was going to have to tell the professor about this one and couldn’t wait to stop by his house on the way home to let him know. His heart fluttered with excitement; finally, he was doing some real work with DNA and making breakthroughs!
Not that they were breakthroughs he could share, or even wanted to, with his employers. But that didn’t matter to him. He was doing something real now, something that was going to matter, he just knew it.
That kept him going for the weeks to come as he made plans to leave his job. He was still waiting for word from the Guild, who the professor had said were going to contact him. But so far there had been nothing.
Nothing, as far as Charles could see.
But there were many things going on that Charles could not yet see. The Guild had put Charles under constant surveillance since the professor had spoken to them about Charles and what he’d discovered. This consisted of both electronic and physical surveillance on a 24-7 basis.
The data lines going into Charles's house were tapped using sophisticated, remote methods, including his phones, Internet, and even which TV stations he was watching. The workers for the Guild employed advanced key loggers that worked off the changes in voltage from Charles’s computer screens, and the differences in current going through his AC power connections. Invisible laser beams were aimed at his windows that reflected and recorded any sounds coming from inside. Cameras that could see through walls were also at their disposal. Anything he did inside the house or out was watched and recorded.
Cars outfitted with special gear followed him around as a backup, should the other surveillance methods fail. These cars also provided physical surveillance, as did micro bugs put in Charles's car, clothing, and home—planted in place during stealth entrances. There was nothing Charles did or said that the Guild were not aware of for the weeks leading up to their contacting him.
They had to be sure he was working for the right side, as their mission held the fate of all life forms on Earth in the balance. The surveillance would cease when the group came to a decision, one way or the other, whether to trust Charles and bring him into their fold, or to let him go.
The money for such an expensive surveillance operation came from the vast resources and investments the Guild had obtained over the centuries, due to their knowledge of business and from many who believed in their cause donating fortunes and estates to them. But that was all behind the scenes in hidden money and assets.
The Guild still moved in the shadows as they once did, only now they were on a resurgence and much stronger than they had ever been before.
***
Charles’s boss John Dacks noticed that something was amiss with the work Charles had been doing.
It was during a routine session of number crunching when he realized that Charles was getting less efficient at his tasks. This was odd, as usually the opposite happened, and Charles
had
been getting faster, until lately.
Charles knocked on the door of his boss’s office, his heart rate going instantly up. “Hi. You wanted to see me?” he managed to squeak out through a suddenly constricted throat.
His boss closed over the folder with the numbers and looked up. “Yes, please take a seat,” John grumbled.
Charles entered and closed the door quietly behind himself. He always hated being “called on the carpet” like this, as it was usually not a good thing. He wondered, Did anyone like such meetings? Probably not. He was sweating.
His boss sat forward and folded his hands. “Charles, I’ll get right to the point. I’ve been going over your performance report and it’s taking you longer to do less work. Is everything alright with you? Problems at home?”
Charles was a bit shocked and didn’t know what to say at first. But he knew this was a good opportunity to give his resignation. “Well, actually…I have been having some trouble completing my tasks to the same degree as before…”
“And why is that?” The boss ruffled up his brow.
“Because I don’t think I’m a good fit here anymore. I was given the impression that I was going to be allowed to designate my own projects after a time. I’ve been here over a year now, and that hasn’t happened.” He looked the boss straight in the eye. Might as well give it to him, he thought.
The boss shook his head. “We run on tight schedules here, you know that. I can’t just take you off your current work so you can follow your fancy.”
Charles smiled tightly, even though the words had stung him. “I guess not. Look, I’ve got it in writing in my job offer letter that I was going to be given a chance for my own projects. If you aren't going to abide by that…”
“You’re going to sue us? Is that it?”
“No, I wasn’t going to do that. I was going to resign and ask for a severance package. No hard feelings.”
The boss stared at Charles for a long moment.
Charles knew he was thinking it over very hard, as there were veins bulging in his head. Charles had the company over a barrel if he wanted, probably. But then all they would have to do if he tried to sue was say they had offered him his own projects. The negative PR would not be worth it to the company, Charles figured. He really didn’t want to go the legal route anyway; he just wanted out.
“OK, Charles. Leave this with me, and I’ll see what I can do for you. I’ll need you to put your resignation in writing.”
“Will do,” Charles said, getting to his feet.
John held out his hand and they shook. “I’m sorry to lose you, Charles.”
“Thanks, but I guess I’ve just got other goals.”
“I understand.” John forced a smile and watched as Charles walked out. Then, John dropped the smile, picked up his phone and dialed.
Charles went back to the lab, taking deep breaths, trying to calm down. It’s done, he thought. Now, all I need to do is write it out.
He sat down in front of one of the computers and composed his letter. It was quiet, and he could hear the buzzing of the fluorescent lights as he typed. It didn’t take him long to write out, and then he printed it up. He planned to drop it off on his boss’s desk on the way home that day. He gave them two weeks notice; fourteen days, including today.
Checking the time, he was mildly surprised that no deliveries had arrived by then. Usually there were packages for him by mid-morning.
But not today, nor during any of the remaining days left in his employment would anything arrive for him. His boss had implemented a company policy that any quitting employees were to be seen as a risk and would not be given any work to do. They would be allowed to wait out their two weeks at the facility if they chose, or at home “on-call.” Most just ended up not coming in.
But Charles didn’t know about this, so he spent the rest of the day cleaning up the lab and thinking about what he’d be doing with the rest of this life. His thoughts went to Stan and the secret group he was working with. Would he be working with them next? It certainly seemed that would be the place for him to be.
He went to lunch, but everyone was oddly cool to him; unfriendly, even. As he was eating alone, getting stares from people he had worked with, he started to get the impression that word had gone out about his quitting. So this is how it is, he thought, shun anyone not towing the company line. Figures.
By the time he’d finished his meal, he’d had it figured out that no packages, and hence no work, were going to arrive for him that day; they had gone to another person. He noticed the head of security, Walter Barnes, sitting in the cafeteria watching him.
When Charles left for the day, Walter was sitting in the company security jeep watching Charles exit the building. They're suspicious of me, Charles thought, shaking his head. He waved to the security chief as he drove out of the parking lot and past the security checkpoint, the guards giving him dirty stares. They must be in on it, too, Charles knew.
The next morning, he phoned his boss about coming in for the days remaining, wondering if there was going to be any work for him, or if he’d be just wasting his time. His boss said he’d let him know if any work came in. None did for the rest of the two weeks.
Halloween night came and trick or treaters walked by the security jeep from HPD, parked a few doors down from Charles's apartment building. Charles handed out candy at the door, wondering if any of those in costume were undercover. He shot dirty looks at the jeep, which he'd seen parked there for days, now, with a rotating series of drivers. It was obvious he was being made to know he was being watched.
But how long were they watching me before I knew? Charles wondered. He shut the door after the costumed critters left.