Chapter 71 A prime-ministerial briefing

Friday 20th August

Peter Rogers sat in an armchair in a second-floor reception room at Ten Downing Street.

Justin Troughton, the British Prime Minister, had been standing at the window for some time, silently looking down at the street below. Finally, he turned, walked to an armchair adjacent to Peter’s and sat down. ‘The problem is, Peter, the Chinese know exactly what Starchild is. If the laboratory at the Balapuspika Monastery hadn’t been destroyed, they’d have Teterodat and be in the same position we’re in now. We’ve got every reason to think they’ve a project as advanced as Starchild. The Security Service thinks they got hold of Paterson’s Starchild manuals somehow. This isn’t a situation any of us want to be in, but the genie’s out of the bottle now, and we can’t find an easy way to put it back.’

‘And the Russians know too?’

‘It would appear so, although the intelligence we have indicates they’re aware of what Starchild can do but haven’t yet developed a similar system. It’s possible that some other governments, possibly in the Middle East, know about it as well, but we’ve no concrete proof of that.’

‘So the Chinese and the Russians are considering their options?’

‘They are indeed, Peter. The situation’s left them with two obvious choices. Either they make some negotiated agreement with us, or they launch an attack.’

‘Have they threatened a strike?’

‘They don’t need to. The approaches from China and Russia so far have been seeking negotiation. They want some concrete, verifiable guarantees that we won’t use Starchild. They don’t know that we’re still planning to launch Starchild on the fourth of September. Only a handful of people do. You can see the position they’re in though. It’s like the possession of nuclear weapons. If only one side had them, that side would gain an unchallengeable strategic position. They haven’t actually threatened to nuke Folkestone if we don’t negotiate a watertight plan, but they would feel backed into exactly that corner. If China had captured the Teterodat in Mexico City last Saturday, we might well be thinking in the same terms. That’s why the Inner Circle is so adamant that we must take the risk of launching Starchild while we’re still the only ones who can.’

Peter pondered on the mention of the Inner Circle. The IC was the defence group composed of top-level representatives of the Western allies. To avoid indecisive or delayed action in critical situations where there was a high risk of an attack on the West, the group had authority beyond that of national governments to direct strategy and launch a military response. Knowledge of its existence had been considered a major factor in maintaining peace during the Cold War and beyond because hostile powers knew that military responses to aggression towards the West would not be delayed by democratic indecisiveness. Peter knew that Justin Troughton could not override an IC decision to use Starchild even had he wanted to. ‘Do the Inner Circle really think the Chinese or Russians would launch an attack on the UK mainland?’

‘There’s a Chinese destroyer at Portsmouth that’s on an alleged goodwill mission.’ Justin Troughton smiled ironically. ‘The Russians are also sending a battlecruiser to contribute further goodwill. Clearly, either could launch tactical warheads. Both Moscow and Beijing know the sole base for Starchild is at the Shorncliffe bunker.’

Peter nodded. ‘Having just one base is unfortunate. We simply don’t have the quantum computing capacity for multiple sites at the moment.’

‘Even if we had, we still wouldn’t use multiple sites in the current circumstances. It would destabilise the situation. As you know, the Chinese and Russians have spies in our security systems, as we have in theirs. Beijing and Moscow would very likely find out about a dispersal of Starchild sites. One of the factors that’s preventing one of them from launching a preemptive attack now is that our whole project could be disabled by hitting the Shorncliffe bunker. No one wants to launch an attack – it could ultimately lead to all-out nuclear war. Nevertheless, Moscow and Beijing see the Starchild situation as temporarily containable if they chose to destroy Shorncliffe Camp. That’s produced a stand-off that provides everyone with time to think and negotiate. The problem’s bigger than just Shorncliffe though. As I said earlier, the genie’s out of the bottle now. Starchild technology exists, and no one can trust anyone else not to use it.’

‘So, the Inner Circle thinks we have to use it first,’ Peter concluded. ‘Even if the Chinese and Russians are alert to the possibility of Starchild being used, can’t we still implement it at a time of our choice? The fourth of September was only suggested because it’s the date of the nearest pass of the comet. We thought the deluded millions who are putting cosmic significance on Beth would attribute the induced changes in mental attitudes in targeted countries to magic from the comet. We simply hoped that might ease the transition.’

‘That was the original reasoning, Peter, but it isn’t anymore. The Chinese obviously know the brain wave profiles that are associated with channelled sub-ego imperatives. They’re now constantly monitoring hundreds of their key personnel. If Starchild BWPs were detected, that would be proof of us having implemented Starchild. Beijing’s arranged for automatic launch of ICBMs before the affected personnel would be able to counteract it.’

‘The channelled SEIs will very quickly prevent any hostile action. George Mackenzie’s phase two tests indicate that a channelled multi-target attack against any number of people would be complete within seconds. In order to respond with a strike before the SEIs caused the Chinese to stand down, their automated system would have to collate the BWP data very rapidly.’

‘The Chinese understand that and have made plans. That’s the reason why the IC has chosen the fourth of September. By coincidence, there’s also an SDCO on that day which will disrupt the key Chinese military communication satellite.’

Peter looked puzzled. SDCO was the acronym for a Space Debris Collection Orbit. A number of international automated spacecraft were engaged in removing space debris – the hazardous, discarded man-made material that was orbiting the Earth as a byproduct of satellite technology since the nineteen-fifties. Increasingly frequently, satellites in Earth orbit had to make course adjustments to avoid items of debris and, from time to time, to avoid the SDC spacecraft themselves. ‘How does that SCDO relate to implementing Starchild?’

‘It’s what you said about the need for very rapid data collation in respect of anomalous brain wave profiles. All the monitored subjects transmit to a dedicated satellite which can collate the data and launch the automated response. The Chinese only have one satellite in orbit that’s capable of both that autonomous data analysis and weapon control. The SDCO on the fourth of September will result in a fifteen-minute window when that satellite will be offline.’

‘If we launch Starchild in that window, won’t the automatic retaliation be triggered as soon as the satellite comes back online?’

‘Just before the Chinese satellite comes back online, the Americans plan to disable it with ground-based lasers. By then, if the sub-ego imperatives have worked, there won’t be any subsequent attack commands from Beijing. If a few ICBMs are launched, American anti-missile missiles should be able to cope with them. Russian personnel would have been targeted by Starchild at the same time, so they shouldn’t launch a major strike either. We’re calculating that other nations won’t launch preemptive attacks because they’re all outgunned in terms of conventional or nuclear weapons. Also, we’ll offer negotiation to other hostiles before using Starchild against them.’

Peter clearly saw the dilemma that was forcing the hand of the IC, but was very worried about the plan. ‘He who launches Starchild first has the possibility of taking over the world – if nothing goes wrong. But it’s an enormously high-risk strategy.’

‘It’s an insane strategy, but if we don’t do it, China or someone else will do something similar as soon as they have Teterodat together with the technology.’

Peter paused to think through the plan in greater detail. ‘If the Chinese satellite is going to be offline for fifteen minutes on the fourth of September due to the SDCO, why don’t the Chinese ask for the SDCO to stop or transfer their satellite to a different orbit?’

‘It wouldn’t help them. There’s so much junk floating around in space now that all satellites are periodically unable to transmit data as a result of course corrections due to space debris. The optimum strategy to keep satellites online for as long as possible while collecting the debris is a version of what mathematicians call the travelling salesman problem. The fastest supercomputer on Earth at the time, Japan’s Fugaku, spent three weeks calculating the operational routine of the SDCO spacecraft. There’s no known way any Chinese satellite could be offline for less time. Any change to the current operational routine would just take out the control satellite for longer at a different time. The Chinese are hoping to find some negotiated way to ensure their security during that fifteen minutes, and we’re trying to reassure them about that.’

‘You mean we’re trying to get them to believe that they’ll be safe in that fifteen minutes when we’re really planning to launch Starchild.’

‘Yes.’

‘It sounds like it all depends on nearly split-second timings and on everything working perfectly.’

‘As I said, Peter, I don’t like it much either. The problem is, we have no alternatives. If we don’t go ahead, China will probably be the next hostile in a position to do so.’

‘And at that point, they’d be reasoning just as the Inner Circle is now.’

‘Exactly. We’ve run numerous models. All scenarios other than our use of Starchild on the fourth of September end with a nuclear World War Three.’

Chapter 72 Connections

Friday 20th August

Sam sat alone in the bedroom of the bungalow. Her open laptop stood on the dressing table in front of her. She always looked forward to talking with Zoe, although the email that had invited her to this evening’s face-to-face conversation had seemed unusual.

Zoe was the English name Li Xiu Ying used for convenience with Westerners. It had become her custom to write a chatty email to Sam as a prelude to inviting her to make contact online. The email that Sam had received this afternoon, however, had been much more concise – as if Zoe was worried about something. Also, she had proposed their online chat to specifically be this evening – usually Zoe would offer a few dates and times in the week that followed her note.

Sam had been Zoe’s tutor at Oxford. They had shared many interests and had become close friends. Despite this, Sam remained unclear about the nature of Zoe’s current job in the Republic of China. She knew Zoe was a high-ranking official in a government department although did not know which department. In fact, Zoe had noticeably avoided telling her, and Sam had tactfully not pursued the question. Whatever her current role in the Chinese state, Zoe was very cautious to anonymise communications with Sam. The meeting planned for six this evening was, as ever, via a secure connection that Sam had accessed using Tor.

Zoe’s face appeared on the screen. ‘Hi Sam, how are you?’

‘I’m well, thank you, Zoe. How are you?’

‘Fine. I’m very busy. I’ve not spent as much time with my family as I would have liked. What have you been doing?’

A further ten minutes of social chit-chat followed. During the conversation, Sam increasingly sensed that Zoe would really have preferred to be talking about something else.

Zoe was familiar with Sam’s habit of suddenly changing tack in mid-conversation as a result of insights that appeared to come from nowhere. Sam, therefore, decided to do exactly that and get straight to the point. ‘Zoe, it was great to get your email this afternoon, but it was written in a way very different from your usual style. I also get the impression, right now, that there’s something important on your mind you want to talk about urgently.’

‘I used to wonder if you could read minds,’ Zoe replied with a sense of relief. ‘Your insight and wisdom are the reason I wanted to talk to you. There’s something very big happening. I don’t know what to do, and I don’t know anyone in China who is wise enough to counsel me. I hope you don’t mind me bringing my problem to you.’

‘I’m pleased you have. What’s worrying you?’

Zoe paused as if thinking about where to begin. ‘I haven’t told you about my job before. That was partly for security reasons, but also because I didn’t want you to think badly of me. I am Chief of Intelligence at the Ministry of Public Security. That’s the intelligence, security and secret police agency of the People's Republic of China.’

‘Why did you believe I might think badly of you?’

‘The ministry is your equivalent of MI5 and MI6. We undertake work to protect our country, but sometimes we don’t play by rules that you would consider ethical.’

‘I guess your enemies don’t often play by any rules at all. It’s a dilemma faced by all security services. When I was involved with Stargate, I worried that I was contributing to a project which was trying to weaponise what should have been mankind’s greatest gift. At the time, I told myself that less enlightened groups, in particular the Russians, were trying to gain the same kind of military advantage. I reasoned that it would be better to benignly influence them after the power balance favoured the West, rather than risk everyone returning to the dark ages if the power balance went the other way.’

There was undoubtedly a substantial element of truth in what Sam had just said, but Sam had also wanted to reassure Zoe that she could appreciate the ethical complexities faced by senior members of a security service.

Sam now reasoned that Zoe’s issue must relate to her role in the Ministry of Public Security or it would not have been the first topic that Zoe raised. Because her concern existed in that sphere of her life, it would certainly involve an impossible ethical dilemma. Zoe was far too mature and self-reliant to be concerned, to this extent, about a personal matter.

Zoe began to explain. ‘Your government, with the backing of US and Western allies, has been involved in a project that in some respects follows from Stargate. It’s called Starchild.’

Sam had not been expecting that revelation. Given her current journey, however, this development should not have been a total surprise. Sam noted with interest how, within the past ten hours, she had discovered close personal links to two people who related to Starchild in significant ways – first George Mackenzie, with his connection to Robert Watson, and now Zoe.

Sam disliked dishonesty in any form but thought it best for the moment to not reveal her knowledge of Starchild. ‘Are your concerns about Starchild?’

‘Yes. There’s a drug – in the West, they call it Teterodat. It allows awareness to easily disengage from what you used to call the body-mind. In combination with magnetic pulses focused on the correct areas of the brain, certain effects can be produced. One of those effects is to remotely induce what are called sub-ego imperatives in the minds of millions of people very quickly. We think the West intends to use Starchild to control the minds of people in nations they wish to dominate.’

‘Do you think such mind control is possible?’

‘We’ve conducted our own experiments which prove that it is.’

‘So, you’re developing the same technology.’

‘Like you, when you were engaged with Stargate, we don’t want to be aggressors, but can’t trust the motives and behaviours of other governments if they’ve advanced weapons we don’t possess.’

‘Are you ready to implement your equivalent of Starchild?’

‘We have no Teterodat. We were manufacturing it at the Balapuspika Monastery in Tibet, but the monastery was destroyed by an enemy missile about three weeks ago. It’s not been possible to ascertain which country was responsible. Teterodat is produced by a very slow chemical reaction. Two constituents chemically react to form the drug, but that process can take five years. Your government is the only one with a supply, and we’re concerned the West will launch an attack before any other country is in a position to do so.’

‘I see. So, what are you thinking in terms of your options?’

‘The only Western base for Starchild is in the UK, in Folkestone. We’re trying to negotiate via the UK to provide some kind of guarantee they won’t launch Starchild. Everyone’s in the same position though. No country trusts any other, and the first country to successfully launch a Starchild-like attack could take control of the world. Every country will be worried about another attacking first. The incentive for the West to launch Starchild is therefore almost overwhelming. They’ll quite reasonably fear that if they don’t do it, the next nation to have the technology will do so.’

‘Are you saying that universal mistrust means negotiation is impossible?’

‘I think all the nations involved believe that to be the case. This means the only way any might guarantee security is to attack with their existing weapons before any Starchild-like attack. No one is currently taking that action because all the scenarios that involve a preemptive strike are predicted to end with World War Three. We are urgently trying to find other alternatives. A week ago, Chinese agents made an unsuccessful attempt to assassinate the leader of the Starchild project in the UK, Lieutenant General Peter Rogers. I would have halted that action had I known. I don’t believe the death of any one person at this stage could delay the implementation of Starchild, but the attempt shows how desperate we’ve become.’

‘I see the problem. How long has the West had the capability to launch Starchild?’

‘They obtained the last supply of Teterodat in the world four days ago. At least they’ve had the diplomatic sense to confine the project to one known location. The potential for us to strike that base therefore remains. If they’d have diversified the locations for Starchild, it would have forced our hand on a preemptive strike. As things stand, we can still talk.’

Sam briefly reflected on the inaccuracy of Zoe’s first statement. The supply of Teterodat delivered to the UK had been the world’s penultimate. The other was in the refrigerator in the kitchen of the bungalow.

Zoe appeared extremely worried and then sighed. ‘I don’t know what to do, Sam. The Chinese government doesn’t know what to do. The Russians won’t know what to do. Even the British and the Americans won’t know what to do now – and they’ve got the Teterodat.’ One of the activities both Zoe and Sam had enjoyed in Oxford had been going to the cinema, and they had both admired the writing and direction of Quentin Tarantino. ‘It’s like the standoff in Reservoir Dogs,’ Zoe concluded.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Sam smiled at the analogy. ‘Look, Zoe, I can’t fully explain right now, but strange as it sounds, I actually know something about this.’

‘It was true then?’ Zoe was clearly very relieved.

‘What was true?’

‘I was going to contact you about this last week. I didn’t in the end because I thought even your wisdom and insight couldn’t have any impact on a situation like this. Then last night, I had a dream. It seemed unusually real. I was in a London street, but it wasn’t a modern scene. It was very foggy, and there were horse-drawn vehicles. A man walked up to me and said: “You know who you must talk to about this. That person can help. Don’t delay.” He didn’t mention Starchild, and I don’t think I had Starchild in my mind, but when I woke up, I just knew it was about Starchild and you, and it obviously was.’ Zoe paused to think. ‘The odds against you already being anywhere up to speed with what I just said are astronomical. What’s going on, Sam?’

‘Do you remember that I used to talk about God’s winds and tides?’

‘Yes, it was about the way God guides creation by the underlying movement of his awareness – like boats somehow being brought together in the right place at the right time by winds and waves on the ocean.’

‘You have a good memory.’

‘I thought it was a particularly beautiful image, and it gives hope in a world where so many people have lost touch with that ocean.’ Zoe again paused and pondered. ‘I suppose if that’s what’s happening now, impossible coincidences are not surprising.’

‘I think so. As I’ve said, I’d rather not explain too much at the moment, but just to give you a flavour of the synchronicity that’s going on, I’m staying very near the Shorncliffe Army Camp, and I’m planning to meet with George Mackenzie tomorrow morning.’

Zoe’s eyes were wide open. She appeared stunned by Sam’s words. ‘You didn’t need to confirm anything. I believed you, but those two facts certainly support the man in the Victorian street. I’ll say nothing to anyone about this.’

‘I know you won’t. I’ll get back to you when I’ve got something useful to say to you.’

‘Thank you, Sam. I think I’ve finally regained some hope.’

Ten minutes later, Sam walked from the bedroom into the lounge and kitchen area of the bungalow. Ben was coming out of the other bedroom.

Ben looked at Sam. ‘I’ve just had a very interesting conversation.’

They both walked into the lounge area where Sue and Sahadeva were sitting in armchairs, sharing a bottle of wine.

‘I’ve just had a very interesting conversation too,’ replied Sam as they both sat down on the sofa. ‘Do you want to talk about yours first, Ben?’

Sahadeva poured two more glasses of the Merlot and handed them to Sam and Ben.

‘Jenny Smith just rang me,’ said Ben. ‘You know, she’s the wife of Al Smith. I met them both in Cambridge. She said there’d been another change in the way Al behaves. It’s apparently a fairly subtle change. Like last time, she thought that only someone close to Al would notice.’

Sam sat forward and took a sip of her wine. ‘That’s interesting. What’s happened?’

‘If you remember, the original thing she’d noticed when Al came home from the unit, back in March, was an uncharacteristic degree of inconsistency in his behaviour. It was nothing dramatic – Jenny said it was as if Al became a slightly different person with each new thought or feeling. We now know this effect to be consistent with dissociated awareness. Three days ago, Jenny noticed something new. She said a whole new consistency had developed. Al’s been behaving, in her words, like a saint. He’s been positive, good-tempered in all circumstances, always ready to compromise and accommodate, and really supportive.’

Sue started laughing. ‘If we can bottle that, there’ll be a market with every wife and partner in the country.’

‘Is she complaining?’ asked Sahadeva with a smile.

Ben returned the smile. ‘I don’t think she is. She’s just very alert to changes in Al’s behaviour. The thing that made her phone was that Lauren Walters had noticed exactly the same change in her husband, Joe, and it seems to have happened at exactly the same time on Tuesday.’

Sam nodded her head in a way that implied she knew what had happened. The others looked questioningly at her.

‘I think George got the Mexican Teterodat early this week,’ said Sam. ‘On Tuesday, I think he tested Starchild. I think either he or someone else channelled Starchild brain wave profiles to the subject group from the Diss unit. I think sub-ego imperatives implanted at Diss were activated in order to test the system in preparation for targeting the Chinese and Russians. That would explain a change in presentation and an increase in consistency by those subjects.’

Sahadeva put down his glass. ‘How do you know about proposed Starchild attacks on China and Russia, Sam?’

‘Now Ben’s told you about his interesting conversation, I think I need to tell you all about the equally interesting conversation I’ve just had.’

Chapter 73 A goodbye without a hello

Saturday 21st August

Sam walked along the seafront at Sandgate in the direction of George’s flat. The hot summer weather continued, and Sam found it hard to recall the day when it had last rained. The comet, a now commonplace sight, was following the sun across the sky like a dog pursuing its master.

As Sam turned left from the esplanade into Wilberforce Road, she could see at once that there had been some kind of incident. On the far side of the road, fifty yards from the junction, stood two police cars, an ambulance and a police incident van. As Sam walked further along the road, it became clear that the house in which George Mackenzie had rented a ground-floor flat was the one that had been cordoned with police tape.

Sam turned and walked back to the esplanade. Across the road from the seaward end of Wilberforce Road, and facing out to sea, was a shelter. Sam crossed the coast road, walked around to the open side of the structure and then sat down on the bench within it. She had paused here during a previous walk along the shore. No one was on the beach in front of her, and there was no other direction from which she could be seen.

Sam breathed deeply, closed her eyes and visualised the seat of her consciousness as residing above her left shoulder – just as she had done one week earlier when she had joined Peter Rogers for a drive. Sam then stood and returned to Wilberforce Road.

As she continued towards George’s flat, two teenage boys headed towards her. She continued to walk directly at them for as long as she could. She stepped to one side at the very last moment to avoid a collision. The lads had certainly not seen her.

She had been noticed, however. On a nearby wall sat a ginger cat. It was clear from its head movements that it was watching her approach. As Sam passed, she turned slightly to look back. The eyes of the animal were clearly following her.

Sam walked the last few yards to the police tape, ducked under it and continued around the police incident van to its doorway. As she arrived at the entrance steps, a smartly dressed woman in her late forties was ascending those steps into the van.

The woman started to close the door but was prevented by a man inside. ‘Please leave the door open, Chief Inspector. The aircon isn’t working, and this van gets like an oven if we close that door. There’s no one within earshot.’

‘No problem, Seargent,’ said the woman, fully opening the door once again. ‘What have you got?’

‘The victim’s a sixty-four-year-old white male named George Mackenzie. He was a major in the army and was involved in some kind of project at Shorncliffe Army Camp.’

‘What happened to him?’

‘He was shot through the heart three times – probably around three this morning. We haven’t recovered a weapon. The house-to-house enquires so far haven’t turned up anyone who heard or saw a thing. It’s got all the hallmarks of a professional hit.’

‘What about people living in the same house?’

‘The victim lived alone. The house is divided into three flats. The victim was renting the bottom flat, and the other two are empty.’ He reached across a desk. ‘There’s one thing.’ Sam saw the sergeant hold up a plastic evidence bag. ‘We recovered this syringe from the bedroom where the body was found. It’s empty, but it had contained a liquid of some kind. There were no other drugs or related paraphernalia in the flat. Forensics are sending a car to collect it for analysis.’

‘OK, Seargent, thanks. I’ll have a look around the flat. Is the victim still there?’

‘No. He’s in the ambulance. They’re waiting in case you wanted to take a look at the body.’

‘Right, I’ll deal with the ambulance first.’ The chief inspector turned, left the incident van and walked towards the ambulance.

The sergeant was the only person now in the van. Sam watched him as he picked up some papers and crossed to a filing cabinet at the further end of the office. This allowed ten seconds for Sam to walk up the steps, pick up the evidence bag from the table and descend the steps once more.

At the bottom of the steps sat the ginger cat, silently looking up at her.

Sam reached the ambulance just as the chief inspector had pulled back the cover from the victim's face.

Until that point, Sam hadn’t known what George Mackenzie had looked like. At the sight of his face, Sam felt deeply saddened. It appeared she may have lost a good friend for the second time – this time without even having said hello.

She also felt suddenly apprehensive. Functional invisibility had served her well, but she did not wish to push her luck too far. It would take just a chance accident – perhaps someone walking into Sam, or her stumbling or tripping – to leave her with some difficult explanations to invent.

With this in mind, she ducked back under the police tape and headed quickly back in the direction of the bungalow.

The cat trotted along behind her.

Chapter 74 A professional hit

Saturday 21st August

Peter Rogers’ phone rang. He stopped what he was doing, stood up and quickly walked from the small side office into the main laboratory in the Shorncliffe bunker. The system that relayed mobile calls into the bunker did not work well in the smaller room.

Peter removed the phone from his pocket. The code on the screen indicated a secure call from MI5. ‘Hello, Mike.’

‘I gather the operation was successful.’

‘Yes, I had no problems. I don’t expect anything to emerge directly from the crime scene. Police forensics will deduce the gun was a Glock seventeen, but that’ll tell them nothing. It’s the most common weapon issued to the UK police and security services. Foreign agents in the UK use them too, so nothing is implied by the weapon. It will look like a professional hit.’

‘Is George’s death going to compromise the launch of Starchild?’

‘No. That’s why it was sanctioned now. I can launch Starchild on my own if needs be.’

‘I didn’t think you were directly involved in very much of the hands-on operational side.’

‘I was sufficiently involved to understand how to implement the various modes of Starchild, and the manuals you wrote with Paterson are very clear and detailed.’

‘OK. Remember, I can come and help if you need me.’

‘Thanks, Mike.’

After the call, Peter returned to the adjacent office. He sat down at the desk once again, removed his Glock seventeen from a drawer and continued to thoroughly clean it.

Chapter 75 Dharma Talk

– Infinity and eternity

Saturday 21st August

‘I can’t analyze its contents, Sam, but that syringe is of exactly the same type as the ones we’ve got in the fridge. There’s a very small manufacturer’s logo on them in Spanish.'

‘That’s useful to know, Sue. I suspected as much, but I wanted to be sure.’

‘Heads are going to roll in the local CSI unit,’ noted Ben. ‘A key piece of crime scene evidence doesn’t usually just disappear into the air. What do you think an empty Teterodat syringe in the flat might mean, Sam?’

‘I’m guessing it points to someone in that flat having been injected with Teterodat. Otherwise, why would George or anyone else take an empty syringe there? Mind you, I wouldn’t like to speculate who might have been injected or why.’

Sahadeva walked into the lounge area of the bungalow. ‘Are you going to be OK to deliver a dharma talk on Zoom this afternoon, Sam? George’s death has been quite a shock for you – well, for all of us really, but you may have had that special connection with him from a previous life.’

‘I certainly wasn’t anticipating his murder, but there’s no way of knowing where it’ll eventually lead. Thanks for asking about the talk. I’ve got a bit of a headache, but I’m OK to carry on.’

Sue walked to the kitchen table, where she had left a small bag. ‘I’ve brought a few things with me, including some tablets that should deal with that headache.’

Sam walked to where Sue was standing, and Sue gave her two tablets. ‘It’s paracetamol.’

Sam glanced at the array of pharmaceuticals in Sue’s bag. ‘Were you planning to set up a pharmacy down here?’

‘I’m sometimes called out to patients in the community. I always carry a selection of the most frequently needed types of medication. I had an intuition that it might be useful to bring it along.’

‘We’ve got a guest,’ said Ben.

The others looked in the direction in which Ben was pointing to see a cat sitting on the still of the open front window.

‘That’s the ginger that followed me back from the crime scene this morning,’ said Sam.

Ben crossed to the window and gently shooed the animal away. ‘Cute though he is, we’d better not encourage him to hang around. He’d just be a nuisance to future guests in the bungalow.’

Sam looked at her watch. ‘Oops, forgot the time.’ She hurriedly sat down in front of the laptop on the kitchen table and clicked a link.

There followed a few moments of silence. Sam took a deep breath. ‘Good afternoon everyone,’ she began. ‘Today I would like to talk about infinity and eternity, and I want to approach this by looking at parallels between ideas that have arisen in science and ideas that have been articulated in spiritual teachings.

‘An important thing to understand is the nature and limitations of conceptual frameworks. Einstein revolutionized our understanding of gravity not by discovering new facts but by looking at the existing facts differently. It was his change in the way space and time were conceptualised that revealed the new insights. I don’t have to quote analogous examples from spiritual teachings because spiritual teachings are often about nothing other than looking at reality in new ways – about trying to step outside the constraints of existing worldviews and view differently those things that have always appeared self-evident.

‘Coming back to Einstein for a moment, Special Relativity concluded that space and time could not be considered separately. They were aspects of the same thing. If I want to walk the diagonal of a football pitch, the quickest way is to walk directly from one corner to the opposite corner. It takes me longer if I walk along the touchlines. I only have a certain amount of speed, and if I’m not walking directly towards my target, the component of my speed in that direction is reduced. You could say that my speed towards my destination has to be shared between all the directions in which I choose to travel on my way there.

‘The same is true if we substitute the dimension of time for a dimension of space. The faster I move in the space direction, the slower I move in the time direction. You could say that my speed towards my destination in space-time has to be shared between all the directions in which I choose to travel on my way there.

‘If I was sitting on a photon travelling at the speed of light, time for me would not pass at all from the perspective of an observer who was stationary relative to me.

‘How can time not pass, you might ask? Within our usual conceptual framework, time always seems to pass. That’s the way it is. Einstein, however, clearly showed that time is not what we think it is when we only consider it from within the constraints of our normal conceptual framework. Do you need to study Special Relativity therefore to get closer to an understanding of what time really is? Fortunately not.

‘Time doesn’t pass in the present, and you can experience that phenomenon anytime you’re not thinking.

‘Ask yourself where the past and future are. Can you go to them? Have you ever been to them? Do you know anyone who ever has? The present is not an infinitesimal, fleeting moment between the past and the future. The present is actually all there is. The present is eternal. It’s the mind that creates our notion of time. Stop thinking, remain in the present, and our illusion of time goes away.

‘Rather than continue with further analogies, I want you to think about your reaction to my last statement. If I had talked about that in normal, secular company, people would have assumed I was mad – possibly that I was some religious weirdo. All of you are used to listening to religious weirdos, however, so, if you haven’t already experienced the timelessness I described, you might assume what I said to contain some spiritual insight – after all, the best spiritual wisdom makes no sense. Perhaps you might also hope one day to reach this incomprehensible, mystical state. Well, what’s wrong with reaching it today?

‘It’s the conceptual framework your mind has constructed that makes what I’ve said seem impossible to comprehend. You cannot understand it with your mind. Just stop thinking and experience the now.

‘While you are experiencing the now, you might note that you are also experiencing the here. Following the same line of reasoning that I’ve just used, there is no there. You can’t ever be there. You can only be here.

‘It’s in the here and now that you experience infinity and eternity. And it really is that simple.

‘I’ll leave you to continue your meditation on this theme with Shingetsu, but whatever you do,’ Sam smiled, ‘don’t think about it.

‘Thank you.’