On The Wings of Hope : Prose

And wars come again … And the biosphere of the planet is being destroyed and psychofield of their world is being deformed yet again …

We see how experiments will structural material of cells of living organisms are being performed … and we desire to shout “Stop it !”, for we already know the interstellar civilizations which have destroyed themselves during similar experiments - but we cannot … what we can do – is just to observe. To observe, how biological organisms of a planet … animals … are being deformed, to observe how their bodies - since very birth transformed beyond recognition - gradually lose reason rudiments in a course of new experiments … how their biofields are being deformed - as though are curved inside – and a death sign, already familiar to us, is distinctly shown.

“Stop at last !”, - we urge to shout … and we cannot.

We can only observe how the increasing technological development leads this planetary civilization to natural parasitism on the scale of its biosphere. We observe, how bailout atmospheric layers of gases are being destroyed … how a share of radiation of a star of their system, touching the planet, gradually increases … how, as if being proud of their inventions, they build sort of protective domes around areas of their dwelling, how their … geneticists … create some sort of virus, capable, as they say it, to change their fabric and to rescue them from disastrous radiation of a star on infection … how mass infection gives unexpected side-effects … how the appearance of these beings changes – and how their psychofields are changed in a similar manner, being curved inside with already so familiar death sign …

And the strongest vibrations of an informational field of a planet come again - as though it tries to spit out this information, this knowledge of former events forever … and yet again as though something stomps our fields, which have almost merged with planet’s field now … And once again - pictures and images, replacing each other …

Mutated beings begin to perish from the impact of atmospheric gases and star radiation. As if having gone mad, they try to use own psychofields, discovered by their scientists, for the destruction of their own kin - and then the small group of beings, almost not afflicted, makes the decision on the further change of their kind and its adaptation for life in the water environment. We observe, how massive generators are being created, designed to change structure of planet’s gases and cause thawing of glaciers to create an eternal world of water. We observe, how these generators are put in action …

It’s late. It’s too late. Genetic modification of their kin for the adaptation to in-ocean’s life becomes impossible. The infected half-mad beings destroy this supervising elite to plunge themselves into the ocean – now forever.

Now masses of these beings march into the newborn oceans – in ranks, as if still not understanding, that they come to face certain death, as though called by someone – and disappear in its waves. Disappear once and forever.

Forever…

And then star radiation finishes the rest.

* * *

Pain, pain, pain. Waves of pain, our consciousness is being stomped and crashed … a sharp push - and the planet’s field throws us out from itself, those unexpected newcomers who have woken it. And then the images instantly fade off.

Now I am still standing on this small islet among boundless ocean of a planet together with my father, still not able to come to my senses after what I have seen. The father, however, comes to his senses earlier than me.

- And that is how their history has ended. Now we have learnt everything that wanted about this world. We will deliver this information to the Intergalactic Council. But now it’s time for us to leave … a field became unstable after our intrusion.

- But … but why … what for? Why … why they have chosen such way … what for... Why have they destroyed planetary life along with their own ? Why … why not psychosynthesis, why not searches in themselves, why only outside … why fine tuning of world under their and only their needs?

- Too many questions, son, - and not enough answers. The father has looked to me in eyes - and a vibration of his thought, strong and accurate, has touched me.

- They simply … they simply uttered “no” to their homeworld. – Let’s go now. There is no place for us in the dead worlds.

01.10.2010

Time of heroes

“Accompanying persons are requested to leave a launching pad. Launch will be initiated in thirty minutes by Earth time”, - a quiet and methodical voice filled the space.

Dozens of people - seeing off their relatives in a new difficult voyage for them - at last looked away from a starship and started moving to a waiting hall. Some smiled hopefully, faces of others were filled with tears - guards even had to forcefully seize one man, who still didn’t stopped beholding this conqueror of space and was waving his hand to a departing brother. The rest departed willingly.