

### MERLIN & THE SCIENCE (Volume One)

### PART SIX: EARTH BEATS THE DRUM

### With seven original illustrations by Justin Suchley

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2012 Justin Suchley

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ONE Even from a distance the one hundred and thirty-foot high carbuncle dominated the cold land. Up close, monstrous under the moon. The colossal volcanic shape was on the far side of a snow encrusted road and seemed to breathe in nauseating waves of writhing shadow and light – _oh dear god, it looks alive!_

The date? December the 26th 2004. Time? Twelve forty-seven in the morning.

We are in the first hour of that tumultuous and unforgettable day.

The second moment of power in this second sequence of the Science... It would take place up there on that high plateau in about half an hour's time. Breath looked like thick cigarette smoke in the cold air. Numerous insulating layers would be a protection from the deep winter night: and what, with the little rug to sit on and a thick blanket as a wrap-around... Again my eyes widened and my mouth twisted as I looked at the hill. The Milky Way curdled the black skies; while, dazzling over to the left of the hill's pancake-flat summit, the milky-white eye of a murderous dragon was a rising Cancer moon: the same moon as was used one year previous when the earthquake had hit Bam, in Iran.

Strange thing about the hill... It wasn't covered in snow at all.

Yet a layer of snow covered so much of the surrounding landscape.

Deer antlers, the shoulder blades of wild oxen, and sheer force of human numbers... That was all they had to hack, shovel, and carry twelve million cubic feet of chalk from what became a hollowed-out incline and a shallow moat, to create the giant one hundred and thirty feet high creation of Neolithic Times ( _circa 8,000 – 2,000BC_ ) we now call Silbury Hill. All of the clay and flint that they used as the hill's core was imported from another location miles away. The tallest mound ever to be created in prehistoric Europe, Silbury is located in Wiltshire: the same county of South West England where they also built Stonehenge, the Avebury Stone Circle, and the West Kennet Long Barrow.

But why on earth did they build it? Archaeology still doesn't know. It also doesn't particularly know why the prehistoric mound's summit was made to be so absolutely flat. But in the years after the Science, questions with the Intelligence revealed why... It was shown that Silbury was one component of a sprawling Stone Age industry powered by natural magnetic-electrical forces: and was designed for the mass-production of food. It was the battery in a giant landscape-factory, which combined various structures to form one Stone Age fertility generator.

This giant prehistoric mound was built during a time when manual fertilizer was unknown, as were crop rotation methods. Instead, Nature's fluctuating forces were amplified by these colossal stone and (also) soil structures: for heightened magnetic-electrical fields change the molecular structure of crop seed to double the normal yield and make it stress-resistant; while electrified air will ionize the seventy-eight percent nitrogen content of air to create airborne nutrients for soil. The mound's chalk body was (and still is) highly conductive to the electrical ground-charge ( _originally the hill was not insulated by soil and grass but was exposed to the air and rain_ ); and its electrical content was heightened by the natural springs emptying... and then filling... and then emptying the hill's shallow surrounding moat throughout the year.

All of that underground movement of water exaggerated the electrical forces that flow under the mound's giant body and on into the Avebury henge – about one mile away to the North East; where the flowing and fluctuating ground-charge was trapped and exaggerated by the henge even more. It was inside the Avebury henge that piles of crop seed were placed in numerous clay-lined pits ( _the remnants of which continue to baffle archaeology today_ ), thus allowing the crop seed to be immersed in heightened electrical fields.

In later decades the Avebury henge's power was boosted considerably when the huge standing stones were brought in and planted in various circles (around where the ground-charge focuses there); and in long serpentine 'avenues' that lined the other two enormous streams of ground-charge that flow into the henge from directions other than Silbury Hill ( _in all, three serpent streams flow into the Avebury henge_ ) – thus, their power was exaggerated as well.

Meanwhile, Silbury's deliberately flattened summit was a ritualistic platform; where animal and human sacrifice was used by the Neolithic people to indulge their belief that Nature's forces were in fact gods. That same belief was found in far more recent tribes like the warlike Aztecs and the Mayans, of South America. They were agricultural societies, like the builders of Silbury Hill; and they also built flat-topped pyramids over giant streams of magnetic-electrical force: where – at the summit – they saluted their gods with sometimes hundreds of human sacrifices, in the hope of a blessing on their crops and land.

Exactly like the builders of Silbury Hill, the Aztec and the Mayan motive behind the building of their pyramids – and the seemingly endless killings at the top of them, was for the mass-production of food.

Yet something more than Stone Age Man's industrial legacy is encountered at Silbury Hill. What it is might be known most commonly from Greek Mythology, as the weapon of Poseidon; the sea god and the bringer of earthquakes: hence his other name of Earth Shaker: for an earthquake would start when Poseidon struck the ground with his trident. In Britain the Trident is carried by Britannia, the female image of The Spirit of Britain: whom the Romans later depicted carrying a shield, wearing a centurion's helmet, and carrying a spear. In Hindu Mythology the god Shiva also carries a trident, called Trishula.

And in this episode of the Science a very strange and frightening power remarkably similar to those fantastical manifestations was about to emerge.

But all of that, and all of those years of answers from the Intelligence about Silbury's true purpose had not happened yet: and I was back on the snow-covered road under the moon; lifting the copper rod in my chilly fist and watching it turn... to point at the hill's distant plateau. As I crossed the road, images of that first episode at Avebury flashed in my mind. When I'd motored passed it in the car, on that first night of the Science, Silbury had seemed like a giant toad that would flick out its horrible tongue and gobble me up.

Now the hill's gigantic body looked like waves on a frightening sea.

Wintry breezes were rolling endlessly upwards through its tussock-grass coat in long wintry wind-snorts; creating a terrible sea-like effect through a strangely disturbing play of shadows, which were rising from the dark and dull stink of England sliding in from every direction.

After clambering down the grassy slope to stand at the hill's foot and then looking up toward Silbury's distant plateau... Surely it was an impossible task? _How am I going to get all the way up there in less than half an hour?_ The hill looked impossibly huge. How different it had been after that third visit to Avebury. That night I'd stood at Silbury's foot knowing its great grassy body could be conquered in a couple of lusty leaps.

"I'll never get up to the summit in time", I whispered.

Maybe I'd arrived too late? A desperate feeling was rising in my throat.

But then of course: what an idiot – the little foot-worn track climbing and winding up the great carbuncle's westerly side! Slipping and sliding I circuited the hill's base.

"Show me the path", I hissed through gritted teeth. "The one I usually take – remember? The one that goes up to the top."

The rod swerved and twisted right back on itself. Then it pointed rigidly to guide me back around the moonlit foot of the great hill until – _there it is!_

Leading up and up – I could see it: a thin strip of white was shining like a silvery trickling stream under the moon.

TWO The dull dig... dig... dig of boots into the steep chalk of Silbury Hill's flank. This sound mingled with thoughts about what could be lurking up there on the flat old summit. I stopped to look at the moon. In another part of the night sky a shining pin-point of red was the planet Mars. It looked like a warning. The steep angle of tussock-grass on my right hand side was the prehistoric mound's flank. Further up overhead, and much nearer to the stars, I could see the grassy lip of the hill's high plateau. My eyes narrowed as I wondered again _– what's up there on the top of the hill?_ Maybe a group of people doing some bizarre ritual would be there: or a psychopathic, mad person?

It'd be a nightmare if someone was up there now no matter who they were – _the Science will be ruined!_

Trudging on up again... That flat and freezing world of snow-covered fields down below was falling away into shadow. Meanwhile, the night air was growing noticeably less and less cold. The prehistoric mound's flank was a rising moonlit sea; where grasses rippled and twisted up towards the flat-topped plateau erupting into cold stars. And that countrywide breeze was definitely easing: becoming softer. I'd bumped into people up there on the summit before and it was heartbreaking whenever that happened – _it's not half as cold up here as it was down there on the ground!_

My mind swirled with clashing thoughts; even as I reached the high plateau's lip. My gasps for breath. A last dull kick of my boots on chalk. Silence... I stopped and my mouth gawped open. A thick stillness of expectation. The air was waiting as well. No blast of night breezes – there's nobody here: _thank goodness for that!_ Choking the circular plateau's perimeter was a thick border of grass and overgrown weeds – and there...

Bone-white and hanging over the mound's westerly shoulder the rising moon looked close enough to touch. Dead centre of that wide and circular plateau – like a white bull's-eye: a central patch of white chalk: eight feet across and dazzling.

I lifted the copper rod, "Can you lead me to the place of power?"

The rod swerved outwards, _'No'._

My eyes widened, "This is the place you want me to use for this episode, isn't it?"

The rod swerved inwards fiercely, _'Yes!'_

My eyes narrowed, "Are you asking me to wait until the moment of power?"

The rod swerved inwards, _'Yes'_.

"Then lead me to where I should wait until you're ready".

The rod swerved away from the moon to point over the hill's flat summit towards a distant grassy edge. I followed. Crunching over the grass. One hundred and thirty feet below my chalk and mud-encrusted boots the land was dark and cold. Slowly, I made my way over to that far edge of the hill's grassy lip – suddenly the rod twisted and curled into my chest, as if to say _'there!'_

I looked at my watch. Five minutes past one in the morning. Directly ahead and out there in that silent chill, the Avebury stone circle was approximately one mile away. I looked back over my shoulder. That big white patch of exposed chalk – some thirty feet behind me at the summit's middle dazzled under the moon's furious glare. I dropped the rolled up blanket and rug, to get down cross-legged. All I could do now was wait.

Even at the time of this particular episode of the Science, I still had no clue as to why the Stone Age people had created Silbury Hill: but in the years that followed, questions with the Intelligence revealed that this huge prehistoric mound was a battery. So then what on earth did it mean? How does a giant, flat-topped mound of chalk ever become a battery? Let me explain... Water passing through chalk creates an electrical charge inside that chalk. Silbury Hill is twelve million cubic feet of chalk: and in the ground underneath it there flow hundreds of gallons of water every day, through what geologists call an 'aquifer'. The shallow moat surrounding Silbury fills and then empties and then fills throughout the year with hundreds of gallons of spring water as well. Therefore Silbury is boosted constantly with electricity.

But why was it made to be a battery?

A river of magnetic-electrical energy flows through the land... on underneath Silbury Hill... and on into the Avebury henge, about a mile away. But when the serpent stream passes through Silbury it is boosted by that enormous electrical reserve inside the hill: so that when the electrical stream arrives at the Avebury henge it is super-powerful. Of course, the moon has an effect upon all of this as well; because when the moon rises it intensifies the Earth's magnetic-electrical field: meaning that during a Full Moon, Silbury Hill buzzes with energy.

The land was a frozen world, where black shapes curled inside moonlit stretches.

It all looked rather like a frost-covered sea, rising and falling there under the glittering night sky. A wide crust of frost and thin ice surrounding Silbury covered the shallow moat, down below: while beyond the high plateau and then down at Silbury's foot behind me, the frost also covered a huge hollow that used to be an impressive rise in the land. Both the moat and the hollow are what remain of where the Stone Age people hacked the tons of chalk that went to create this hill. When winter's freeze melts into early Spring, the natural waters flowing under Silbury start to rise: and soon those hollowed-out places around the great hill are a marshy expanse again. The location where Silbury was built, at the bottom of a long slope used to be a watery world, which emptied and then filled and then emptied again ad infinitum with the rising and falling spring water. These waters also bubble into life at another place of even older sacredness, less than half a mile away to the south west, called Swallowhead Spring.

I looked again at my watch – _fifteen minutes past one._

I stood up, tucked the rolled-up rug and blanket under one arm, and then lifted the copper rod to ask, "Is it time to do this episode of the Science?"

The rod swerved inwards to almost touch my chest, _'Yes!'_

What a strange figure I must have looked, standing there on the high plateau of Silbury Hill in the depths of winter. The copper rod turned in my fist and pointed straight towards that patch of dazzling white chalk, at the dead centre of the hill's high plateau. I moved forward slowly: casting a long black shadow while I crunched over the nettles and weeds. Maybe you'd have laughed to see me jump with sudden fright as a weasel shrieked right there at my feet to skitter away through the tussock-grass, the shadows, and the floods of silvery light – the rod swerved away to one side, as I encountered a column of intense power.

It stood like a tall monolith right there in front of me.

Its sheer density forced the rod to make a vivid curving movement around its wide body.

The rod pointed forwards again. Carefully I followed on – the rod swerved around the wide body of another tall column. The rod swerved as it curved around another tall sentinel. It swerved... around another. And then another.

As I crept through these concentric rings of tall columns I whispered, "Are many of them here tonight?"

The rod twitched inwards viciously as if to say, _'Yes – now shut up!'_

Soft winter breezes blustered on my ears. A ringing sound thickened the silence there under that bright moon. Standing everywhere on the high plateau... Tall columns of secret power. A great gathering of mysterious sentinels – _what are they?_ Only by the fleeting impressions in my mind's eye could I answer that question. They were flitting in and out of shadow. Tall people. Almost like Native American Indians to look at, but not so. Their skin was grey-blue. Dazzling eyes. Their hair... Jet black and sheer straight. Who were they? Was I mistaken or... Their noses. Were their noses curved and long, like the beak of a crow? _How very_...

But the copper rod – it was starting to curl in my fist on the first curve of a spiraling route in towards the very middle of that dazzling patch of white. Boots now crunched the chalk gravel. Something inside my ribcage exploded... while the copper rod twitched out... then straightened... twitched out... then straightened. Following breathlessly the curve of that spiral, while the rod twitched to point at something; then straightened – then twitched to point at something; and then straightened. _Four of them!_ And they all were surrounding me there on the secret place of power. Four tall beings. I could see them in my head suddenly – and then gone: leaving an impression of their vivid black-and-white feathered shawls huddled tight around their tall bodies. They were standing in a square formation: watching. Waiting.

Quickly I dropped the rug onto the chalk at the centre of that silent company, wrapped the blanket tightly around me, and sat down cross-legged inside a listening silence that enveloped the plateau like a cocoon.

But what was that out there in the dark valley straight ahead – _what...?_

A strange light seemed to be moving. Out there in the dark. Maybe a quarter of a mile away. I narrowed my eyes and leaned forwards. Was it a vehicle's headlights out on some country lane? But no. A vehicle light would illuminate an area around it as it moved – but this didn't light up anything around it at all. It was a self-contained light: and it was nothing like a vehicle light. In fact it didn't actually move in any direction that a vehicle light might move in, because this light was drifting and jittering up... up... up; and then down... down... and down: not sideways.

It moved in a strange way.

Like in these jittery jerks: as if it was pushing against something in order to move down, down, down. And then slowly back up, up, and then further up.

What a spooky sort of light that is!

Self-contained. Golden in colour. It looked like a sphere of bright gold. Wobbling eerily its way down, down and further down. Then slowly up and back up into its original position. But there was something else about it. My mouth dropped open and I pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders. Was the orb light doing something? It seemed to be pushing down onto something invisible and then, after reaching a point somewhere near to the ground, it started moving back upwards again.

Does the queer orb-light know somehow that I'm here on the hill?

What on earth was I thinking about? Was I completely crazy? Maybe I was, maybe I was: but something was definitely out there floating in that eerily jittering flight through the night air. In the dark.

It moved down again with a spookily wobbling floating flight down; as if it were pushing down against something before drifting in that strange jittery upwards flight back up to where it had started from.While I watched the ghostly movement of that golden orb-light I noticed suddenly that deep in the core of my brain a silvery-white atom now sizzled brighter than a welder's arc-light! It was a growing weight; right there at the middle of my skull. I closed my eyes. My spine was stiffening under that fierce light-atom's increasing weight.

"What is this", I whispered. "It's... cracking my skull!"

Relentlessly the white-hot atom of some sort of silvery power was getting bigger. Fierce and scintillating, the silvery atom inside my skull was expanding ever so slowly. A dazzling atom of white-hot was fattening right there; at the very core of my brain to become a fierce orb of power. By now it was almost becoming the size of a tennis ball _what's it doing – what is that?_ I watched with eyes closed while the silvery orb started suddenly to morph and... It was changing its shape – and it was pushing and morphing out through the lower back of my skull. My head tilted backwards a little under the expanding power's increasing weight. It felt like the lower back of my skull was filling slowly with something like hot molten lead.

"What is it?" I whispered again; while my face was solidifying slowly to become a cast-iron mask.

Sheering out. Arcing out from my head and curving slowly... ever-so-slowly upwards and relentlessly further upwards. Two curved and dagger-like points were pushing and ext-end-ing out through each side of the back of my head – the morphing atom was turning into what appeared to be a huge scythe of white-hot power. It was sheering mercilessly straight through and out of my skull into the cold air. Right out from the lower back of my head! _Look at it – my god!_ My mouth hung open while I observed the two dagger-like points curving up towards the stars. And that slow pouring-in of hot molten lead continued to fill and to fill my head: which tilted back a little more.

I opened my eyes.

Overhead the Milky Way's fairy-dust glitter was festooned across the blackness. I looked at the different stars there; while that expanding and morphing scythe-like thing. It was apparently sprouting through my skull! _But what is it?_ Deliberating and wondering and pondering on this and that made absolutely no difference to the existence of that by now huge scythe: or to its glowing source right there in my skull – _so then it isn't my imagination._ Despite my own thoughts, those two piercing points were still there, arcing out and out and up.

With my face turned to the stars, a thick blanket huddled about me, and another breeze drifting over the high plateau of this prehistoric mound... Suddenly the two sharpened arcs of energy froze. The white-hot scythe seemed to have reached its full extension. Surely seven feet across at least.

What is this – what's happening?

**THREE** Breezes blustered. A thin shadow – like a long black finger on the round face of a clock, was being cast over the hill's high plateau by my cross-legged body; which apparently had turned into a living statue. The air smelled of winter earth; of the distant hills and valleys. The weird scythe of power had stopped expanding out through the back of my skull and up and into – rumble under the hill. Eyes widened – shudder of the hill.

Mouth gawped. A second furious orb now scintillated white-hot at the base of my spine – rumble... of the hill; and there under my navel a third silvery orb dazzled as well. Spine was stiffening into steel.

Rumble. Jolt of my body: a fourth silvery orb of power was suddenly over the navel! Rumble. Solar plexus. Glowing white-hot. A furious fifth orb! Tremble of something under the hill: a sixth orb – angry but cooling. It stiffened into the base of my chest. Spine was hard steel. Body an iron statue.

The night's chill blustered – rumble... and there! Seventh orb glowed... fattened under the breastbone. A ringing sound was filling the night while another orb dazzled in my throat. Still that first orb sizzled in my forehead with the two silvery scimitar-blades arcing upwards from each side of the back of my skull; to be six... seven, maybe even ten feet across from tip to sweetly-sharpened tip. My warped face was a mask of iron; while a ninth orb fattened silvery-white: furious and dazzling, there on my skull's topper-most crown. Soothing. Thickening... Its envelopment cocooning everything from the night's chill.

Out there over the darkness of that distant valley, and somewhat over to my right, a golden orb light wobbled slightly as it hung in midair. I watched it through half-opened eyes from the hill's high plateau; and something very strange that was beginning to happen slid my eyes forward again – _what's this?_ All of the nine orbs inside my body were melting and merging together – a single molten liquid now, dazzling as it morphed to be a silvery-white column of some sort of power that expanded and fattened all the way up through my spine.

"Is it the wand?" I murmured.

Its sheer tip was now a terrible spike; piercing higher and higher over my head: slicing up between those two curved scythe-points arcing out and out through the lower-back of my skull. It was all becoming one frightening thing. Spine was twisted back; while at the corner of my eye that bright golden orb jittered through the cold air of a dark and distant valley. Gagged and throttled back, my eyes slid to the sky and watched the sheer point of that giant spike rise higher and higher between the two curved points... Silbury Hill's wide circular plateau was now a giant eagle's nest over the breeze. And the nine orbs were a silvery-white magic all the way up my spine: nine points of vicious explosion. A towering tusk of white-hot fury high over the land! They had all become a tall spike of angry white-hot power, extending up and further up between the curved scimitar-points and into the stars.

I could see that the entire thing was so very like the Sword.

Except that with the Sword the horizontal cross-beam had been straight: but with this... With this the cross-beam was curved, like a ten feet-wide scythe.

"It's a Trident!" I whispered. "Look at that!"

A huge silvery-white three-pronged fork had appeared from who-knows-where; while I was being crushed inside the slow squeeze of a dragon's iron claw. Rumble... thundered the hill.

"Is there something under the hill?" I whispered.

Rumble. _There it is again!_ Trembles were shaking the giant mound. I stared forwards. Jolt! Another shock. Rumble. This time stronger than the last – and something was crashing relentlessly up. Something terrible was crashing, sizzling, and booming upwards through the massive chalk hill.

"Oh my god what is it – it'll kill me?" I whispered.

Rumble... wobbled Silbury's entire body this time. Closer. _Oh my god – no!_ It was coming up through the giant mound couldn't move couldn't get out of its way something unknown was crashing who could not feel that exploding up: Silbury Hill was trembling – _how can it be?_ I reached for something to hold onto but there was nothing to hold on to. Head was tilting back. Eyes closed... Explosions of terror furiously screaming and rising in slow-motion a horrible lightening flash was engulfing my body strangely calm all of a sudden inside this merciless flashing-upwards atomic explosion: flesh... Bones... Boiling white lightening-bolt blazing upwards electrifying the white-hot tusk and its scythe arcing out of skull watching with eyes wide as the Trident in mid-explosion extending up into the stars from the summit of a prehistoric hill the entire three-pronged form it was surging higher higher higher into the night sky from Silbury Hill's high plateau exploding upwards twenty feet thirty feet ruling the Earth extending and clashing into the stars – _will it shatter my mind?_ Fifty feet. Sixty. Surely it did rule the Earth!

And as the gigantic Trident form seemed to reach its fullness of height and pierce those stars I was able to lean back and look up through the... _Oh my god!_

I could even hear it rumble as it stood there on the hill. An atomic blast frozen in mid-explosion.

What a terrible fury over the dark and unknowing land. A giant three-pronged fork of silvery-white had risen up from the body of a prehistoric hill. A star-piercing beacon of supernatural power. Electric and crackling and furious. Standing immense. The angry and terrible weapon of a god. Suddenly my forehead wrinkled. What were those voices? Screams and desperate shouts for help were countless people. With my skull thrown back inside the Trident's gigantic central column of silvery-white power it seemed... Was I listening to something very strange – _what is it?_

But I knew what it was.

A human tragedy was unfolding all around the hill, so it seemed _– but how can it be?_ The raging thunder was crashing through my mind. I was in the midst of some sort of raging torrent that sounded. Was it the sea? _My god there's a huge wave!_

Thundering waves of a crashing and violent sea: above and all around Silbury Hill foaming waves roared. Swirling among the sea's torrent human voices were all being swept away. Tumbling and exploding wave upon wave of white-hot noise and crashing foam was a galloping and rushing chaos of many horses: white horses that were an unstoppable sea surging over and all around the giant hill.

"What am I seeing?" I whispered. "Is a big wave crashing through the Earth?"

Staring upwards with my skull throttled back, and my body twisted in a stultifying spasm – _what is this?_ Tumbling inside the crashing torrent of an invisible sea, white horses galloped. _Am I going mad now?_ Screams and shouts. All in the midst of that torrential avalanche of foam and thrashing waves: and suddenly I was tumbling into the stars. I was warping and sliding through tear-sting. I was a tiny mote of lava; spat from the grassy volcano.

Stars. Planets. The galaxy was drifting.

I was burning inside the sting of hot tears on my night-chilled face – _am I alive or dead?_ The giant surge of power probably had killed me after all. Far, far below me now that raging sea was passing away: and with it those terrible voices. All of those people: who were they? What had I just heard? Was I going mad? It seemed that I had gone mad. Or maybe I was dead? Maybe the world around the hill was changing? Maybe I was realizing I wasn't dead after all. The hill's giant body was still there, I could feel it. Iron-solid cocoon of flesh and bone apparently burned to black inside a swirl of power rising from the hill – a bullet-proof shell of silvery-white and softening fury. The night's chill. The fading of a terrible storm.

But something else was happening as well. That immense grip of a dragon's claw was fading, and it could only mean one thing – the Trident was fading... The Trident was melting finally into the volcanic body of the hill. It was starting to dissolve – _thank god!_

Breezes blustered over the hill: and a serene silence was sweeping in. But I still remained a frozen cadaver inside that slow fade of a cast-iron shell. Encased in ice. And yet my skeleton was now in the middle of a slow thaw. Insides were starting to thaw as well. Liver. Lungs. Brain. I could even open my eyes and look at the great gusts of stars overhead. A fierce flood of moonlight illuminated the high plateau. And where I sat cross-legged, with a thick blanket wrapped around my body, the wide circle of chalk appeared to be luminous compared to the rest of the hill.

That white boom and voices that were a single sound had passed with the galloping horses over the white-chalk hills all around Silbury.

Still I continued to watch while the Trident was sinking into the deep Earth. Such an immense power it had been – _what was it?_ It had raged up through the body of the hill with such a power I thought it would kill me. A dull ache at the core of my brain. Memory of how that dazzling atom had – stab! Of a steel and bloodied finger – jolt! Solar plexus jutter of juice out from the nostril a gushing sudden bursting bomb of fierce giggle under the whelping sky chattering and twattering skull crunched back and violent tooth-glint under the nose curving swirling sounds shouting from the gurning face-hole where a pink tongue-slug warped under gusts of chortle cheer and gasses swirls and trout-clouds of gaffeer chunked my back and botched my shoulders – the relief... the relief: the sheer genuine horrified relief. And as it felt like a god was thumping my back I knew – _it's over: it's done!_

When my head straightened up again, and I peeped out from the inside of that deep enveloping swirl, I could see... Out there in the deep dark Wiltshire valley – _there's another one!_ Still with a wash of hot tears chilling my face I could see them. Two shining orbs were floating and wobbling down... Down, down. Spookily jitteringly down. Then stopping there in the dark together before starting up and wobbling upwards again through the night air. Floating. They were floating back up. And as for the position of that second orb in relation to the first... It was maybe about the same distance as both orbs were from the hill. My mouth closed while my forehead wrinkled. The two golden lights were pushing down into the dark of that valley. They were pushing down together again. Down into the deep dark valley. And as they both descended together in that eerily jittering floating flight, another wildness-wave. A throttling surge. A gigantic sigh. A colossal wave of power echoed up from the giant mound. Skull was thrown back again under the stars. Mouth a black hole...

And then the falling away. The dying away of that wave. Fading.

As that surge continued to fade I wondered _are the two light-orbs and me here on the hill somehow doing something?_ But then what on Earth could we be doing? Breezes blustered over the coat's hood. A wintry night was returning. So too was the high plateau of the prehistoric mound; with its great flood of dazzling moonlight – _the world has changed: I know it!_

While the Trident carried on dissolving, it seemed to me that something tremendous had taken place in those minutes when the Trident was piercing the stars.

**FOUR** In the mid-Nineteenth Century one of the few archaeological excavations to penetrate the interior of Silbury Hill happened to coincide with a tremendous storm. As the chronicler wrote about the episode, 'One of the most grand and tremendous thunderstorms I ever recollect to have witnessed. (It) made the hills re-echo to the crashing peals, and Silbury itself, as the men asserted who were working at its centre, to tremble to its base'. On that fateful night when the Trident appeared it seems that I had encountered a different sort of storm there. Maybe Silbury really had been created as a battery that both captures and enhances Nature's electrical forces after all?

A later excavation at the hill revealed the remains of thousands of winged ants caught in the chalk near its base: thus proving that construction of the hill had started during one Stone Age summer (during the month of August, to be exact). As for human remains, only a single skeleton is reported to have been dug up there. It was allegedly found near to the surface of the summit by a local farmer: but because it was found in the years before modern collating methods and radio-carbon dating nothing more is known. Maybe it was even a murder victim from a much later time – who knows? Talk of it being a burial mound of some kind has gone on for decades. Unsurprisingly, people frequently assume prehistoric mounds were funereal in some way: and sometimes, of course, they were. One story says that the mound is where King Sil (thought, at first, to be 'Zel'; due to local pronunciation of the word 'Sil') was buried sitting on his horse. No such remains have ever been found at Silbury: and who on earth King Sil was remains unknown – a fantasy, maybe.

Another story says that The Devil was on his way to dump a load of earth on the nearby town of Devizes, but instead he dumped it on the way; and so we have Silbury Hill: more froth to hide the facts.

In the Nineteenth Century it was noted that on every Palm Sunday the people from all of the local villages would gather at Silbury Hill to enjoy various festivities there. Indeed for centuries the Avebury Stone Circle (approximately one mile away from Silbury) was the site of an annual fair right up until the Nineteenth Century as well.

But as we moved into the Twentieth Century, and a more scientific age, stories about the hill took on a rather different character... It was during the Nineteen Fifties when one of the greatest thinkers of our modern era offered to the West a fascinating possibility that human beings also exist as a collective mind. This 'Collective Unconscious', as he called it (later commentators called it 'The Superconscious'), is not only the overriding force behind an individual's positive (as opposed to negative) development, but also it is able to influence the positive and life-respecting way our human species is able to develop as well. In other words, there exists an intelligence intimately connected to us that knows not only how we should develop individually, but also how to bring about that true and essential development of the entire human species.

He also said that The Unconscious creates visible and recognizable psychological events that precede those seismic changes in the collective human identity.

Carl Jung, who put forward this famous idea, went on to say that our next giant leap in consciousness as a species would be heralded by various portents: and that they would not only be recognizable as images that represent the progressive and harmonious future that subconsciously is desirable to us all, but that they would be visible as well.

So then what would these portents look like?

He said that they would appear to us as circular discs in the sky.

Ever since Jung's prediction the phenomenon of unexplained discs in the sky has gathered pace, and even has developed with every passing year. Numerous locations around the world do appear to have become centers of manifestation for this apparent psychological shift. And one such place is Silbury Hill. But as the years passed, these so-called 'unidentified flying objects' became much more than that: indeed some of the reports of what people say they have seen in our skies appear to indicate actual vehicles of an unknown origin visiting this planet: the so-called 'ufo phenomenon'.

However, it should be remembered that Jung, when he spoke of discs in the sky, did not necessarily mean physical vehicles from Space: and that he was describing human psychological effects that can also be seen vividly sometimes, as apparent 'discs in the sky'. It's an important distinction to make – and for good reason... Maybe a dangerous visitor to Earth uses these psychological manifestations of forwardness in human understanding as a mask, so as to hide its own highly destructive agenda? In other words, the art of grand deception playing itself out relentlessly in numerous regions on Earth could, in fact, be originating from an unwanted universal source. Therefore it could well be that our so-called 'alien visitors' might not be the wonderful possibility that some individuals do appear to believe: and that maybe the general cynicism displayed by the public towards this issue is founded in a deeper wisdom, and not in blinkered thinking at all.

But the point about what Jung called 'The Unconscious' is that maybe our future exists already in the mind of a divine intelligence, which understands fully our need to develop towards (and into) an eternal vision: and that this divine intelligence will do absolutely everything in its powers that it can to establish the scenario of greatness for every human being; whether living presently on Earth or even not?

That night on Silbury Hill had been dramatic: some sort of colossal release in the Earth's field might well have taken place there. Either that or something powerful had entered the Earth's field of force; and therefore the psychological aspect of human beings. I knew while it was happening that some sort of a shift to the consciousness was going on. Had it contributed in some way to the terrible tsunami earthquake that occurred that same morning? It was impossible to say because, later on, the Intelligence would not give a response to that question. However, it had to be noted that the episode on Silbury Hill did take place approximately half an hour after the earthquake struck. So then what was going on?

Was it a terrible and shocking coincidence?

All I knew was that an event which might have involved some sort of poisonous release had erupted inside the forces of the Earth. And as I said earlier in this story, a release of something poisonous in the forces might (sometimes) create a frightening jolt. Rather like the removal of a rotten tooth can not only remove the poison but it can also be accompanied by a scream.

Exactly as had happened at Avebury, eight months ago, there would now be a New Moon episode that completed what had happened at Silbury that night; and even while I was trudging slowly up the hill for this New Moon half – on January the 9th 2005, the scream that had been released on Boxing Day 2004 was still ringing in my ears, so to speak: in other words, I was still in a state of shock from what I'd read and what I'd seen in the media concerning the Boxing Day tsunamis. A sound of crows disturbed the chilly and overcast day, which looked liable to pour with rain; judging by the gloomy grey ceiling of thick cloud overhead.

Centuries of human feet slicing that long white scar up Silbury Hill's grassy steepness were being traced by the slow... trudge... of my boots... crunching the way up... to where that grey... ceiling of cloud... seemed to be mere inches over my head.

A lonely figure. Leaning forwards into the steep rise of an old grass-covered mound. Holding out with one fist into the chilly air a piece of copper rod. Carrying under one arm what appeared to be a small, rolled up piece of carpet. It was strange because usually the incoming place of power that is associated with a New Moon is down near the foot of a hill. Therefore I couldn't help but wonder _why am I being led up to the summit again?_ I thought the incoming place of power was at the prehistoric mound's foot; like it had been after the third episode at Avebury ( _described in Part Two of this volume_ ). But instead, the copper rod in my upheld fist carried on pointing fiercely over the high plateau and further on past where, on the hill's lip, I'd sat waiting under the stars.

Unexpectedly, the Intelligence continued to guide me away and off the summit... over the far side; to then descend from that lip of the high plateau and carry on down the other side.

In a few more seconds I was stumbling further on and down the North Easterly flank; through the rough grasses of the sheer slope – the rod swerved against a tall column of power. Stumbling through the tough tussock-grass, I breathlessly – the rod swerved against another sentinel of a second ring waiting at the secret place. Slowly, and to the sound of a solitary crow, I was being guided on a twisting and curving route through ring after concentric ring – the rod swerved and then straightened. The rod swerved... and then straightened, as I carried on being guided down – the rod swerved against yet another tall column.

Chilly breezes tousled my hair and slapped my face.

The rod was starting to curve as it hit the edge of a spiraling energy leading me in and further in.... towards the absolute swirling core. I had counted nine concentric circles of tall invisible sentinels. The sound of crows drifted from somewhere far below, while my boots tugged and snagged in the rough; making me stumble as I tried to negotiate the prehistoric mound's precipitous slope. All the while that rod was being held so viciously on a curving swerve in and further in towards the secret place: when suddenly it twisted inwards fiercely to say, _'there!'_

A few tappety-taps of rain were falling onto my coat, as I dropped the little rug at last and got down in the tussock-grass to wait. I looked at my watch. Two twenty-seven in the afternoon.

After pulling the coat's hood forwards over my head, I waited motionless for the power to rise.

A grey ceiling of cloud looked fit to burst with rain. Down in the gently rising and falling landscape – awash with dead and fading browns and greens, the meandering shape of the River Kennet snaked its way among hedgerows and a few naked trees. A solitary two people walked together along a lonely footpath near to the river's bank. Everything was quiet, even the breeze. Something was in the middle of my forehead. A white-hot atom of power: it was indeed brighter than a welder's arc-light!

The furious atom at the core of brain was getting bigger.

Dazzling my inner eye. Growing. Becoming a silvery orb.

My mouth dropped open while I continued to freeze with the orb's scintillating dazzle. And now it was starting to morph and slide down from the core of my brain and deep into the lower back of my skull: forcing my eyes to close. _Is it that scythe thing again?_ Like thick molten lava sliding excruciatingly into the back of my skull. A dull weight thickened there _but it isn't_... I waited for those two sheer points to start slicing out from the back of my head. But this time there was only a slow filling-up at the lower back of my skull; tilting back a little further, with my body leaning into the hill's rising incline.

Something else. Another sort of power. It was overwhelming the day. Like what had happened at the marsh. A relentless downwards movement of gravitational force into the Earth was turning me into a black and empty tunnel; through which something infinitely feminine dominated the hill.

I watched as it shifted down and down and down: while my mind struggled with the sheer simplicity of what was happening.

A psychological fight was dissolving. Fading inside an infinitely gentle world of 'nothingness-that-isn't-nothingness-at-all'. I seemed to have entered what I've come to call 'The Non-Zone'. A tunnel had opened between the universe and the Earth: and descending down through that tunnel the blackness of Space – not the stars but the endless black void... It was being pulled down and down through my increasingly paralyzed body, and deep into Silbury's core.

Meanwhile, I walked in a black void where I was no one.

I was that single eye; watching and staring into nothing.

But how could nothing be my home? How could freedom be a no-place – who was I now? Far in the past, there might have been a grass-covered volcano. Was it a baffling creation of prehistoric people? Was it flat-topped and unimaginably old? Frightening sometimes? A mystery, to some: but not to me?

This blackness...

This will be my home.

This place of life: where even though there is nothing... I will be.

A light and steady pattering of rain on the hood of my coat was fading into the void. A pattering sound: tip-tap... tap-tap tap. It was becoming louder. A chilly breeze was on my face. I could feel how my hands were tucked into the sleeves of my coat. My eyes... They appeared to be glued shut. I was surprised to find that I still existed. The giant hill was still there! _Where have I been?_ I struggled to open my eyes. Slowly... Eyelids lifted... I looked at my watch and gasped _my god – look at the color!_ I was covered completely in the color of ochre-red!

Splashed and daubed with what looked like blood.

My eyes widened with shock. Everything. Everything. The world had submerged under a vivid sea of ochre-red! _Look at it!_ I pulled my hands out from my coat-sleeves – they were ochre-red! The entire landscape – including the prehistoric mound... Ochre-red! Ochre-red! Everywhere I looked it had all become a shifting sea of deepening, of dazzling ochre-red. Cold raindrops were brilliant diamonds flashing into the grass; and the world soaked in that blood-like ochre-red ooze of a sinking winter sun.

Mouth hung open. Its corners upturned in a vague grin.

_But what time is it?_ A pattering tap-tapping sound of the rain on my coat's hood engulfed the world even more. _Four fifteen in the afternoon_. One hour and forty-five minutes had disappeared. Where had all of those minutes gone – how could the day have vanished so? It seemed as if I had been dead. And now I had entered an afterlife: like a corpse buried in a Stone Age funeral, where everything is covered in ochre-red. _But is the episode finished – is it over yet?_ I stood up in the gentle downpour and lifted the rod, "Has this episode of the Science been completed?"

The rod swerved outwards with an imposing force, _'No!'_

Hurriedly I got down on the little rug to be suddenly embalmed once more in a world of shifting ochre-red light.

I marveled at the endlessly various and constantly deepening shades of that submerging blood-like ooze covering everything – the hills, the fields, the hedgerows, those skeletal trees, the entirety of Silbury Hill. Meanwhile, that light-storm of dashing comets popped on my coat and blazed into the rough grass everywhere. From the shadow of my coat's hood I could see that the reddening world glinted on the rain: and when I turned to look behind me that ochre-red globe of the sun was touching the horizon; while making the hill throw a giant shadow forward over the land below. Each drop was like a fiery comet crashing to the Earth. Hundreds of them. The winter air was filled with hundreds of little comets!

Jolt! An invisible finger – it stabbed! Deep and bloody it prodded fierce into solar plexus. Tilting my skull backwards, and opening that terrible grotto beyond my ribcage. I could feel a yawning chasm gape wide with a fathomless ache. A delicious agony! Spine was curving back inside that unstoppable emptiness. And while my eyes were closing, noble faces of calm tumbled with flashes of rain into the upturned cup of my coat's hood: for the skull I usually wear at the top of my spine... It apparently had dissolved; leaving nothing but a black hole; where a pink tongue twisted the bubbling into gurgles and croaks and high-pitched curves of random noise. Ecstatic laughter was rising upwards through the hill – through me! Somewhere in my mind I knew _this is it – this is why I was made to sit back down!_

The delighted laughter of a god! Is that what it was?

Body jolted... spasmed with some sort of shattering joy. Shards of hot were sliding through my lashes, down a funny twisted thing that used to be a face. Was it the hill poking my ribs and slapping my back or was it a god? _It's over – it's done!_ I might have been the one dappled in the cold winter's rain – but who was the one laughing? Was it the one whose mighty trident of power had burned so bright there behind me on the hill's wide plateau to boil a crashing sea?

And the waves. Those silly crashing waves... They were silly old horses. Standing all around me now and breathing in vaporous snorts.

"Oh yes!" I gasped out loud: like someone's hot lover in a shadowy room.

**FIVE** When Carl Jung ( _the Twentieth Century Swiss psychoanalyst_ ) described what essentially is God he instead called it 'The Unconscious' (later commentators changed the name to become 'The Superconscious'). He had observed correctly that there is another side to life (and to all of us) that is so subtle that it goes unnoticed for most of the time: and that the Unconscious is where we find our answers. He also made it clear that for the Unconscious to become known to us consciously we have to make a deliberate attempt at making direct contact with it – in other words, we have literally to communicate with it.

One method of doing this is by use of a copper 'L-rod' (as described in this story).

In the earlier parts of this story we could observe how questions with the Intelligence revealed that The Unconscious is an infinitely subtle realm; where a number of potencies exist: and that indeed it can be said that these potencies truly are the Unconscious. They all can become a symbolic, elemental form (as in the Grail, the Winged Sun and all of the others), and they can also become numerous human forms. The people of the ancient world called the human forms of these potencies 'The Goddesses and The Gods'.

The Intelligence was saying that all of these female and male human forms are the aspects of a singular intelligence: and they are expressed finally as one ultimate female human form and one ultimate male human form: the Wise Old Woman and The Wise Old Man. Some of us choose to ignore the female composite and insist that 'God is a man'; while others choose to ignore the male composite and insist that 'God is a woman'. Both of these groups of people are wrong because there is a God of female appearance and a God of male appearance; and both of these have to be accepted for us to have full understanding.

The Intelligence also stated that this 'God' that created human beings did not create the universe; indeed the universe created itself: and that this creative trait is therefore repeated on Earth by the phenomenon we call 'evolution'; of both the Earth and of its many life forms. God, The Unconscious (or 'Superconscious') created the presence of humanity on Earth when it entered the psychology of a species on Earth that had the capacity to observe the presence of God. In other words, the divine has not always existed on Earth; and it was only when a species evolved that could be aware of the Unconscious that the Unconscious entered life on Earth.

Therefore it can be said with accuracy that God created the many-sided quality we call 'humanity' but God did not create the entirety of all Creation, including the Earth.

The Unconscious is where we will find every answer we look for so as to be happy and free during our time living here on Earth. It is also a reservoir of intelligence that knows the workings of the Earth and how those working touch upon us. It was The Intelligence that recognized (although we did not) that much of human behavior is influenced directly by the subtle workings of the magnetic-electrical field inside which we are all immersed completely.

Such an idea is quite alien to most of us.

It recognized that for a long time these invisible workings of Nature have been dysfunctional and chaotic: and therefore so have we. It was the Unconscious that described fully all of the details and workings of a science designed to remove permanently the chaotic dysfunctions in Nature's forces and energies.

One of those dysfunctions was the streams of concentrated force that in times past were called 'Serpents', and also 'Dragons'; which were utilized by the Stone Age people for the purpose of generating large quantities of food, through the molecular restructuring of both crop seed and the nitrogen content of the air. But the methods used by the early people to achieve this not only served to intensify the serpents, but also to amplify the poison existing in the Earth's field as well.

In later centuries, the intensified streams of force were utilized for the deliberate spreading of poisonous frequencies around the Earth. In other words, those rivers of intensity were used later on for purposes that were highly dangerous and, in the end, frighteningly destructive. War and the destruction of the Earth's natural environment were among the hideous side-effects created by the widespread poisoning of Nature's forces. Over population by people was another symptom of that chaos. Clearly, the answer as to how to remove all of that poison in the Earth's field was needed.

The Unconscious revealed that answer in the form of an unknown Science: and it was communicated by the Unconscious to someone that was curious enough to question the Unconscious over this matter and then to listen. In time that person came to see the chaos as a sort of poison that not only perverts the forces of Nature but that perverts human beings as well.

It was discovered that the unknown Science could sometimes spark unexpected side-effects that were experienced directly by the person involved: and maybe one of the most shocking of which happened in the hour after a giant earthquake erupted on the 26th of December 2004, at 00:58:53AM ( _GMT_ ). It was the third biggest earthquake ever to be recorded ( _magnitude 9.1 – 9.3_ ): and it erupted in the Indian Ocean approximately one hundred miles out from the western coast of Sumatra, Indonesia. It triggered a series of devastating tsunami waves; some of which were ninety-eight feet high. It caused the entire planet to wobble approximately two inches on its axis; triggering a series of earthquakes that erupted as far away as Alaska.

The reverberation of that huge Boxing Day earthquake... It was still detectable inside the overall harmonic of the Earth one full year later.

In the hours following the earthquake, increasingly detailed news data started pouring in relating the levels of devastation caused by the tsunamis: and the human death toll was immense. In a coastal region that ranged from Indonesia right across the ocean to South Africa an estimated two hundred and thirty thousand people were killed: nine thousand of whom were foreign tourists. After that the numbers came in at one hundred and twenty-five thousand people injured, forty-six thousand missing, with an estimated one point sixty-nine million people left without homes. All of these numbers are estimates with some authorities believing them to be even higher.

The explosion itself was immense; and its equivalent in terms of human weaponry was an explosion that approximated 26.3 megatons of TNT: or, to put it another way, one thousand five hundred and two Hiroshima-type atomic bombs exploding at the same time. Of course the sheer magnitude of that explosion impacted on the ocean itself: thus resulting in the tsunamis that followed.

On the Boxing Day when it happened much of the British population didn't have a clue that the tsunamis had struck: and it was on the morning of the following day – the 27th December – that most people in Britain heard the news. If, on that morning when the news came in, someone had told me to take my head out of my hands and listen to the fact that whatever did happen on Silbury Hill that night took place at least thirty minutes after the earthquake struck I probably wouldn't have heard them. I was in shock. I felt like I was going crazy – how could it be? How could the same thing have happened again one year later during exactly the same moon; a Cancer Moon? Was it merely yet another fantastical coincidence or not? Was there a connection between the tsunami earthquake and the manifesting of the Trident on the hill that night? Had I been seeing the giant earthquake and its ensuing tsunamis – because after all, I was seeing, with some part of my mind, an immense explosion; and a sea that was literally boiling with a power unleashed that I'd never witnessed before?

I was convinced at the time that the Silbury Hill episode of the Science was indeed connected somehow to that devastating natural disaster – after all, one earthquake could be seen as a coincidence: but two earthquakes that both happened when using the same type of Full Moon? After a lot of thought and deliberation I decided that I wanted no more part in the Science: and a few hours after hearing the news I decided that I would definitely not carry on. As far as I was concerned the Science was over: even though questions did remain; and I knew that I had to ask those questions – even for my own (dubious?) sanity.

However, as the days passed I came to realize that the tsunami earthquake had in fact happened while I was still climbing up the side of the hill: and approximately fifteen minutes before I was even on the place of power. So then could that have been the reason why, when I first arrived at the hill's summit, the Intelligence had ordered me away immediately from the secret place – making me go and sit down on the edge of the plateau like it did that night? Was the Intelligence keeping me away from the centre of power while an earthquake was happening thousands of miles away? Could that have been the true purpose behind that gesture?

It was possible, I suppose.

Therefore how could the Science have had anything to do with the earthquake itself?

As for those extraordinary visions that I was having up there on the hill – of giant explosions and crashing waves: maybe I was seeing the disaster; but as some sort of telepathic transmission; and not in the actual minutes when it was taking place? If that was true, and that I was indeed seeing the earthquake and the tsunami through some sort of telepathic transmission, then maybe something was being proved up there on Silbury Hill that night? Maybe the Intelligence was proving in a most vivid way that several possibilities are in fact a reality: and what are those? First of all, that a connection between Nature's invisible dimensions and the human mind is not a fantasy but is in fact real. Second, dysfunctions garbling the magnetic-electrical fields of the Earth will therefore garble the human mind. Third, that if (and when) all of that dysfunction is removed from the fields of force, then the dysfunctional behavior will be removed from human beings as well. In other words – and fourth, that the Science is not an insane fantasy but is indeed real. And fifth; that the Intelligence is not any sort of a fantasy or a delusion either.

What follows next is an abbreviated version of a communication with the Intelligence that happened approximately five days after the 2004 tsunami. For this question and answer session, in the attic in Somerset, I was using two copper rods, "Did the episode on Silbury Hill in any way create the earthquake that happened out in the ocean... The one that caused the giant waves to kill all of those people?"

The copper rods pointed forwards and then twitched... in and out: neither a _'yes'_ nor a _'no'_.

My forehead wrinkled; eyes narrowed, "Did the trident – and all that we did there on Silbury Hill with the Lunar energies... Did what appeared and what happened on the hill somehow cause the earthquake and the tsunami?"

The rods pointed forwards rigidly; as if to say I'm not saying 'yes' and I'm not saying 'no'.

_But how can that be – what does it mean?_ Turned my head slightly to one side, "You do know what I'm referring to, don't you?"

The rods both swerved inwards sharply, _'Yes!'_

Image flashed in my head, "Are you saying that the episode on Silbury Hill did in some way have an effect on the tsunami event – is that what you're saying?"

Now the rods both swerved inwards and almost crossed, _'Yes!'_

"Was that effect an explosion in the Earth?"

The rods both swerved out with an imposing force, _'No!'_

Hesitation: then, "So did the Science do something that happened after the explosion?"

Now the rods both swerved inwards with force, _'Yes!'_

Eyes widened: another sudden thought, "Did the Science in some way affect the people that were involved in the giant tsunami waves?"

The rods both swerved inwards again, _'Yes!'_

My mouth had gone dry, "Did what we did on Silbury Hill that night... Did it in some way actually help the people that were killed?"

The rods both swerved inwards forcefully, _'Yes!'_

"This was after they left their bodies – am I correct?"

The rods both swerved inwards again, _'Yes!'_

"The Science – or the Trident I should say – helped them to be released from the Earth's field of force – is that correct?"

Now the rods pointed forwards rigidly and then twitched... in and out, _'Yes – no'_.

The image of those tall columns flashed into my mind, "Did the Science somehow allow those strange beings – some of which are surrounding me now in this attic where I'm standing... Did the Science allow them to assist the people that died in the tsunami? Is that what it is?"

The rods both swerved... in to almost touch my chest, _'Yes!'_

Hesitation: then, "If the Science were to stop then would those tall beings be able to carry on assisting those people that have left their physical bodies during the tsunamis?"

Now the rods both swerved... outwards fiercely, _'No!'_

Shock! Wasn't expecting that, "So then do the people that died in the tsunami need the Science to carry on – do they need it to continue?"

The rods both swerved inwards and crossed, _'Yes!'_

At the time of that communication I had no idea at all what it meant that the Science would help the tsunami victims. Help them – but how?

One thing was becoming clear, however... If the Science was in any way assisting those people that had so tragically died in the 2004 tsunami then, if that was what the Science was capable of doing, I had a responsibility to help them; regardless of whether I understood it or not.

I mean, in a situation like that what would you do?

**SIX** Over the breeze a barn owl shrieks; chimes of a church bell fade. I draw back the green coat's hood, as The Good Spirit talks through the moonlight shade. Back at the beginning of it all I believed it to be something wrong and even dangerous to communicate directly with the Intelligence. Now I have to wonder _where on earth did I get such an idea?_ These following recorded dialogues are meant to give us a whistle-stop trip into the heart of what happened over that first year of the Science; starting with my first frightened communications with something I couldn't explain – but that really did seem to be there; and ending where the second volume of this story will begin.

This first snippet of dialogue happened during the late August of 2003 while I was on Primrose Hill (North London) at night, and in the middle of a small grove of oak trees. It shows what the attitude of an apprentice tends to be like at first. Incidentally, at this early stage I was still calling the Intelligence 'The Energy'; and I was still always using two copper rods, "Can I ask you... the energy... some questions, please?"

Immediately the rods both swerve inwards and cross, _'Yes!'_

A strong magnetic quality is controlling the rods even while the questions are being asked, "Is it a bad thing to ask you questions?"

Now the rods both swerve outwards, _'No'_.

A breeze rustles the leaves overhead, "Then let me ask you again... Is it possible for me to ask you some questions?"

Again the rods both swerve inwards, _'Yes'._

The impulse is to repeat what has already been asked, "And is it somehow... wrong... to ask you questions – is it something that people should never do?"

The rods both swerve outwards with an impressive confidence, _'No'._

By the early September of 2003 this whatever-it-was I was calling 'The Energy' was being asked what probably amounted to hundreds of questions every week.

Imagine suddenly realizing that you really do have a direct telephone-line to the most superior intelligence that there is on Earth – to God, in other words?

I mean, what would you do?

You'd probably do exactly what I did – which is? Doubt it completely at first... then think you've gone stark raving mad... then slowly realise that what is happening actually is happening... and then, finally, start asking it every question you can possibly imagine. It was like being a child that can take whatever it wants in a sweet shop. There were no boundaries at all.

I asked it about everything – and I mean _everything._

And as my relationship with this marvelous reality got stronger I started wondering about something.

This time I am standing in the attic in Somerset; and the summer dusk is drawing in, "It might seem like a weird question to ask you but... Are you happy – are you content?"

Shockingly, the rods both swerve outwards, _'No'_.

Hesitation: then, "You're not happy? That's strange – why would that be? Why are you not happy? Is it because there is no happiness inside you, or something like that?"

The rods both swerve outwards _, 'No'_.

"So then, is it something else that you're not happy about?"

Now the rods both swerve inwards and cross, _'Yes!'_

The tremulous hoot of an owl is heard, "You're not happy about something – is that it?"

The rods both swerve inwards, _'Yes'_.

My heart booms, "Is it something to do with me?"

The rods both swerve outwards, _'No'_.

Relief, "Then is it to do with this world?"

The rods both twitch in and out, between a 'yes' and a 'no' answer, _'Yes – no'_.

The corners of my mouth turn down, "Yes and no...what does that mean? You mean there's something about this world that you're not happy about – is that it?"

The rods both swerve inwards again, _'Yes'._

A thought flashes through my mind, "Is it to do with the Earth forces?"

Again, the rods both swerve inwards, _'Yes'._

A picture is starting to emerge, "Is it to do with this particular stream of energy flowing under this building where I am?"

'Yes!'

It's like a sudden depth is opening up, "Do you want the river of earth energy to change in some way?"

'Yes'.

An electrical charge seems to be in the air, "Do you want it... to move away from something?"

The rods both swerve inwards with force, _'Yes!'_

"To move away from something that it's in contact with right now?"

And again, _'Yes!'_

In that growing dark of a late summer evening my hands are now trembling slightly, "Am I making a mistake in what I'm understanding here?"

The rods both swerve outwards, _'No'._

In a near-whisper, "So you want the river of energy to move... away from something or from somewhere – is that it?"

'Yes'.

Hesitation: then, "Can you show me where you want it to move away from?"

Suddenly the rods both turn and turn in my fists... until they both point rigidly in the direction of that weird little church, there on the other side of the street. It's always been rather an eerie sort of a place; and especially at night.

After going downstairs and out into the street, the rods both swerve and then seem to be obsessed with something inside the little church _what could it be?_

While I walk to and fro across the church front the rods never deviated from pointing at whatever's in there.

That following evening, in the bare attic, my questions continue, "Something occurred to me today... Do you want to shift the energy line that flows under this building away from that church?"

The rods both swerve inwards hard, _'Yes!'_

Eyes widen. Something new and unexpected is emerging, "Do you... Do you need some sort of assistance to shift this serpent stream away from the little church?"

The rods both swerve inwards, _'Yes'_.

Excitement is building, "Are you able to shift the serpent away without my help?"

The rods both swerve outwards, _'No'._

My focus on the rods intensifies: my mouth is getting dry, "So then is it possible for me... to help you?"

The rods both swerve inwards again, _'Yes'_.

Face has flushed slightly, "Is it me specifically that you need to help you?"

Now the rods twitch between a 'yes' and 'no' response, _'Yes – no'_.

Forehead wrinkles while I stare at the two rods glinting in the gloom: suddenly my eyes widen, "Ah... Do you mean it's just a human being you need: and not me specifically – is that it?"

The rods both swerve inwards, _'Yes'_.

"You need a living human being's help – correct?"

The rods both bob inwards hard and then straighten, _'Yes'_.

A sound of crows is outside in the deepening gloom of a September evening in Somerset, "So how do I help? Is there something I have to actually do?"

Again the rods both bob inwards hard, _'Yes'_.

My hands tremble slightly, "Can I do it from here – from this attic?"

Now the rods both swerve outwards, _'No'._

"Can I do it by thought... or by imagination?"

The rods both swerve outwards again, _'No'._

"What about by visualization?"

'No'.

My eyes narrow while my voice is a near-whisper, "You mean I have to physically do something?"

The rods both swerve inwards with a vivid and fierce movement, _'Yes!'_

I seem to rebound in the shock of that last answer. Bottom lip curls upwards, "What, like...do a ritual or a prayer?"

The rods both swerve outwards fiercely, _'No!'_

An idea flashes in my head, "You mean like...physically go somewhere, maybe?"

The rods both swerve inwards and cross, _'Yes!'_

In the shadowy attic my voice is still a near-whisper, "But where? Can you point the rods to where I'd have to go?"

Slowly but purposefully, both of the rods turn and turn in my fists... until suddenly they both go rigid so as to point in what appears to be the exact direction of a long-backed earthen mound, called Chard Beacon; situated in a grassy and lightly wooded area further up the slope on which the town of Chard is built.

"Can the shifting be done tonight?"

The rods both swerve inwards, _'Yes'_.

Later on that night, and after discovering through more questions with the energy exactly what has to be done, the long-backed mound is climbed: where, up on its top, the copper rods curve as they both guide me in a tightly spiralling course onto the middle of an invisible whirlpool of some kind, like a vortex of power swirling right there on the mound's long spine.

And it's then that something extraordinary happens.

As I wait there cross-legged, and keeping very still with my eyes closed, a tremendous vertical column of thick silvery phosphorescence shifts sideways from right to left straight through my body... and straight through the very core of my brain; causing me to vibrate with a euphoric sensation. And as the energy field shifts away to then disappear those euphoric feelings shift away with it. Leaving a floating sensation; and a profound and thrilling stillness.

Fifteen minutes later and I'm walking along the pavement towards that eerie little church in the dim lamplight. Before I walk past the front of the church I take out the rods from my coat pocket and hold them out in front of me – they both swerve immediately and I stand there, watching with my eyes wide, at what happens next. Both of the rods are turning slowly in my fists inside a rather vicious stream of electro-magnetic energy, which appears to be moving away from the church.

Suddenly I realize what is going on. The energy stream has somehow broken free from something that it was 'chained' to – if you will – inside the church; and it is sliding away... and further away from the church. For, incredibly, its progress can be watched by the slow but vivid twisting of the copper rods as it slides... over the narrow road, and slides away; to continue moving off and away through the various buildings. Later on I come to call this strange art of moving the serpents away from locations where they've been fixed (often for centuries and centuries) the art of 'Unchaining'. It is the practice of moving the serpents of force from one place to another place. Therefore my apprenticeship has entered unexpectedly a new dimension. And when, a few days later, I return to London I'm ready to see if any serpents there might have to be shifted away to new locations as well...

Sure enough, in Tottenham ( _North London_ ) more communications with the energy focus on a river of power that flows under the flat there, "So are you happy about the serpent stream flowing under this place here, in Tottenham?"

The rods both swerve outwards, _'No'_.

Corners of my mouth twitch, "Do you want it to stay where it is?"

Again the rods both swerve outwards, _'No'_.

Outside in the streets a police siren is rising then fading, "So, you want the energy line to move?"

Now both of the rods bob inwards together, _'Yes'_.

The memory of what happened on Chard Beacon flashes through my mind, "Does it have to be unchained from somewhere?"

The rods both swerve inwards, _'Yes'_.

Hesitation: then a near-whisper, "Can you point the rods to where it needs to be unchained from?" The rods both turn in my fists... to go absolutely rigid as they point suddenly into the Northwest. They seem to be pointing in the direction of Alexandra Palace.

"Is the power centre you're pointing me to...anywhere near a single big building?

The rods both swerve inwards, _'Yes'._

"Does the building stand alone on the top of a big hill?"

Again the rods both swerve inwards, _'Yes'_.

"Do you know the name of that building?"

They swerve inwards again, _'Yes'_.

"You actually know its name?"

'Yes'.

Hesitation: then, "Is it called... Saint Jeffrey's Emporium?"

'No'.

One side of my mouth has started to turn upwards, "Is it called... Peter Waverly's Juice Factory?"

The rods both swerve fiercely outwards, _'No'_.

My eyes widen, "Is it called... Saint James's Palace?"

Now the rods twitches between that 'yes' and 'no' answer, _'Yes – no'_.

With a sudden stab, "Is the building called...'Alexandra Palace'?"

The rods both swerve inwards and almost cross, _'Yes!'_

"So... can I do this shifting tonight?"

Fiercely the rods both swerve inwards and cross, _'Yes!'_

Even at this point in the story I still believed I was talking directly to the serpents. In other words, I believed that the serpents are living entities that can think: which is a bit like saying, 'I'm talking to the electricity flowing through the telephone cable and not the person on the end of the phone'.

Then, in late November 2003, something happened one night on Primrose Hill that changed everything. I was standing in one of the groves of oak trees that are further over and beyond the hill's top, and something very strange was going on. The energy seemed to be getting increasingly angry – and I mean furious: so I asked it if it was happy, and it said 'no'. So I asked it if it was unhappy with me in particular, and it said _'yes'._ That was a bit of a shock. Was it something I was doing right now? _'Yes'._ Should I be standing on this energy stream in the ground that I was standing on? I literally gasped as the rods swerved violently in my hands, _'No!'_

I knew I had to get out of the grove quick and find out what was going on.

The energy led me away to a spot further over the hill, where there were no rivers of energy at all: and suddenly the answers were super-powerful and clear. I thought _what's happening? Why are the answers suddenly so clear and powerful now that I'm not standing on one of those serpents?_ And then I realized _you stupid fool! You've been thinking that the serpents are the energy – but they're not!_

And that was when I realized something vitally important. I'd been making the giant mistake of thinking that the forces in the Earth were the energy – you know; that the forces in the Earth was somehow what I'd been talking to all this time: but that wasn't what I'd been talking to at all. The energy was not the forces but instead it was something completely separate from the Earth's force field and energies or whatever they are. The energy was something that existed entirely on its own.

And so, after asking a number of questions, I finally asked the energy point-blank, "Are you the thing that actually is God?"

The rods both swerved inwards fiercely, _'Yes!'_

"So then are you the forces of the Earth – are you the serpent streams?"

Now the rods both swerved... outwards with the same angry force, _'No!'_

"So then does that mean that you... are completely separate from the forces?"

Now the rods both swerved inwards again with the same ferocity, _'Yes!'_

Now that I 'd realized that the energy and the so-called 'earth energies' are two quite separate and distinct realities, my apprenticeship entered yet another new phase: and from this point on whenever I communicated with the energy I called it 'The Intelligence'.

It was around this time also that an amazing circle of magic always appeared all around me wherever I worked – both in the attic and also on Primrose Hill. And it was after this development that, in December 2003, I assisted the Intelligence with a shift that moved an immense river of force out from a poisonous location that was thousands of miles away, in Iran. After that cataclysmic event my ambitions take full flight; as is shown in this following communication from late January 2004, where the last rays of winter light seep through the attic-room's little window – there in Somerset, and the Intelligence is asked finally a burning question, "I've been thinking about what we've been doing together... this shifting of the forces – these 'unchainings', as I call them."

The rods both sort of bob inwards together, _'Yes'_.

"And I've been wondering if there is there an easier way of... of doing all these endless shifts? So my question to you is..." My eyes narrow, while the sound of a crow drifts over the old rooftops outside, "Can the entire Earth be brought into peace... through a single overall method? Yes... or no?"

The rods both swerve inwards confidently and cross, _'Yes!'_

Eyes narrow: mouth has gone dry, "You're saying that there is a single method that brings peace to human beings on this Earth – is that correct?"

The rods both swerve inwards with that same confident force, _'Yes'._

Immediately the counter-question is asked, "Are you saying... that there definitely is not a method that can bring peace to the human society on Earth'?"

The rods both swerve outwards, _'No'_.

"So you're saying that there is?"

The rods both swerve inwards fiercely and cross, _'Yes!'_

Mouth gawps open while I stare fixedly at the rods, "You're saying... You're saying that there really is an actual way... to bring the human society on this Earth... into a state of peace and equilibrium?"

The rods both swerve inwards again, _'Yes'_.

"And for all time?"

'Yes'.

"Does the method that will make this happen have anything to do with religion?"

The rods both swerve outwards confidently, _'No'_.

"What about politics – does this method you're talking about now have anything to do with politics?"

They swerve outwards again, _'No'_.

"What about money – the economy? Does this method that will bring peace to human society on Earth... Does it have anything to do with making money?"

The rods both swerve outwards, _'No'._

I hesitate while the corners of my mouth turn upwards slightly, "Have you wanted this method to happen... for a while?"

Immediately the rods both swerve inwards, _'Yes'_.

"For a long time?"

They swerve inwards again, _'Yes'_.

"For a very long time?"

The rods both swerve inwards fiercely this time, _'Yes!'_

I stare at the rods while I half-whisper, "Bloody hell!" Hesitation: but then, "This method that you're talking about... this method that brings peace to human beings on Earth... First of all are you joking with me about this"?

The rods both swerve outwards, _'No'._

Head turns slightly to one side, "Does this method of bringing peace to human beings on Earth... Does it involve the forces of the Earth?"

The rods both swerve inwards fiercely, _'Yes!'_

"Is it to do with transforming the Earth's field of force?"

Again the rods both swerve inwards in that fierce gesture, _'Yes!'_

"Will human beings stop killing one another and killing other creatures and having wars... Does all of the human craziness on the face of this Earth stop when the Earth's forces are transformed to be completely harmonious and without chaos and dysfunction?"

The rods both swerve inwards and almost cross, _'Yes!'_

My hands are trembling slightly, "So has something like that ever been attempted before on this Earth?"

Now the rods both swerve outwards, _'No'_.

"And can the Earth be sort of... locked into that state: and then be sealed from corruption?"

The rods both swerve inwards again, _'Yes'_.

"And you're saying that this has never been done?"

'Yes'.

"It's never actually been done?"

Now the rods both swerve outwards, _'No'_.

"But do you want it to be done?"

Now the rods both swerve inwards, _'Yes'._

Hesitation: but then, "And do you think that I could help you to do it?"

They both swerve inwards again, _'Yes'._

It was the first time in my apprenticeship that I'd encountered the idea that said 'if the energies and forces of this entire planet are harmonized completely, then, in time, human life on Earth will become peaceful and harmonious as well'. On thinking about it I soon realized that this rather weird idea did actually make some sort of sense. After all, we are connected to Nature in more ways than we imagine... the magnetic-electrical fields of both the human brain and the Earth are, in many ways, one and the same... and the Earth's field is certainly vast in comparison to that of the human brain. Surely then, if the Earth's field is poisoned with chaotic disturbances wouldn't the magnetic-electrical field of the human brain be poisoned as well?

Many times I wondered if there really was any sense in this, and if I was going completely mad after all. However, a ring of truth to it all kept telling me that I wasn't mad; and that something important was being revealed: something that really was the answer to our human predicament. And that this answer has been overlooked consistently for thousands of years. I thought about the microcosm and the macrocosm – 'as it is above then so it is below'.

A sound of crows was outside in the dusk, "Is all of this that you're telling me now actually true?"

The rods both swerve inwards, _'Yes'._

A different thought flashes in my brain, "May I ask you about something that might be connected to all of this?"

The rods both swerve inwards slowly, _'Yes'_.

"Are you aware of a human being that lived on Earth quite a long time ago, called William Blake?"

Now the rods twitch in and out... in and out; as somewhere between a 'yes' and 'no' response, _'No...yes'_.

Forehead wrinkles, "William Blake is very famous here today for writing books and for painting pictures... and talking about a sort of heaven on Earth that he called 'The New Jerusalem' – do you know the man I mean? He lived about two hundred and fifty years back in the past from where I am now?"

Suddenly the vivid force that's been gripping the rods vanishes. But then, after a few more seconds, it surges back; and the rods both swerve inwards, _'Yes'_.

Head turns slightly to one side, "Are you saying that you do know who I'm referring to when I say the name 'William Blake'?"

The rods both swerve inwards, _'Yes'._

Hesitation: then, "From what I've read... or heard... he was someone who talked about something he believed would happen to the Earth... and to human beings on Earth in some future time. Was William Blake a prophet of some kind?"

Now the rods both swerve... inwards fiercely, _'Yes!'_

"What he seemed to be saying... was that some sort of great heavenly spirit would one day be released from its chains – as I think he put it... and that the Earth would then finally enter a sort of heaven on Earth. I think he called the creation of that time 'The New Jerusalem'. Are you aware of all this stuff?"

The rods both swerve inwards again, _'Yes'._

"Is it true that he was not correct in his prophecy?"

The rods both swerve outwards, _'No'_.

Eyebrows lift briefly, "So does William Blake's prophecy have anything to do with this idea... about bringing the forces of the Earth into a permanent state of balance?"

The rods both swerve inwards, _'Yes'_.

The corners of my mouth are turning upwards, "So when he was talking about the creation of this future heaven on Earth... was he actually talking about what we're about to do with the forces?"

The rods both swerve inwards, _'Yes'_.

For a second I let the rods droop slightly while I look at the darkening sky outside the attic window. Then I turn to look at the rods again before pointing them both forwards, "It's all very hard to believe..." Then something else flashed into my mind, "Can I ask you something slightly different?"

The rods both swerve inwards, _'Yes'_.

My eyes narrow, "Do you know what Camelot is?"

The rods point rigidly ahead. Absolutely nothing. Neither a 'yes' nor a 'no' answer.

Forehead wrinkles, "I don't understand your answer. Does it mean... you don't know what Camelot is – yes or no?"

Still the rods give no response at all: neither a 'yes' nor a 'no' answer.

Suddenly my eyes widen, "Do you actually know what Camelot is?"

For a few more seconds the rods both continue to point forwards rigidly: then they both swerve inwards, _'Yes'_

My eyes narrow, "Am I talking to you now about something that has a straightforward answer?"

The rods both swerve outwards, _'No'_.

Forehead wrinkles, "You mean there's something I'm not understanding about Camelot?"

Now the rods both swerve inwards, _'Yes'_.

A thought flashes in my mind, "Does Camelot actually exist?"

The rods both twitch in and out; between that 'yes – no' response, _'Yes...no'_.

My forehead wrinkles again while I stare at the two copper rods held out in my fists, "Are you saying that somehow Camelot does exist... but that it also doesn't exist all at the same time?"

The rods both swerve inwards, _'Yes'_.

My facial expression changes, "Like Camelot is a fantasy – or a dream?"

Now the rods both swerve outwards and go rigid, _'No'_.

Head turns slightly to one side, "So then is Camelot a real place?"

Again the rods both swerve outwards, _'No'_.

A thought flashes, "Was it ever a real place, in the past?"

'No'.

Unsurprisingly, it was impossible for me to grasp what the Intelligence was saying. On one hand I was being told (or apparently so) that Camelot sort of does exist; but then I was being told that it also sort of does not exist as well. Then I was being told that Camelot was never a dream but that it also wasn't a reality either – and not even in the past. What on earth did it all mean?

My eyes narrow, "Then Camelot is something that never actually existed – am I correct?"

Once again the rods both swerve outwards, _'No'_.

Suddenly another thought flashes through my head and my eyes widen, "Are you saying that Camelot is something that has the potential to exist... but does not exist yet at this point in time – is that what you're saying?"

The rods both swerve inwards to almost cross, _'Yes!'_

The sound of crows drifts over the rooftops again while my facial expression changes, "So then is Camelot another prophecy about something?"

The rods both swerve inwards and then cross, _'Yes!'_

The atmosphere in the attic is changing, and another thought flashes through my mind, "Is Camelot anything to do with the prophecy of creating heaven on Earth?"

The rods both swerve inwards fiercely again, _'Yes!'_

I lean my head back slightly from the rods, "I see... so Camelot has never actually existed in the past?"

Now the rods both swerve outwards, _'No'_.

"Has Camelot ever actually existed at all?"

The rods both swerve outwards again, _'No'_.

Forehead wrinkles, "So you're saying that Camelot is something that has a potential to exist?"

The rods both swerve inwards, _'Yes'._

A change of atmosphere thickens the darkening shadows even more, "What is Camelot then? Is it a physical place that will be built by people one day? Like a building of some sort?"

The rods both swerve outwards, _'No'._

Eyes narrow, "You mean it's somehow a non-physical place – like a fantasy, or a marvelous dream?"

The rods both swerve outwards, _'No'_.

My forehead wrinkles: I fall silent until, "Strange: I don't understand that..." Something flashes in my head, "Ah! Is it something to do with the physical forces and the physical energies of the Earth?"

Now the rods both swerve inwards, _'Yes'_.

Eyes widen, "They said that Camelot is where all of the knights gather together... So then is Camelot where all the forces of the Earth will someday meet?"

The rods both swerve inwards, _'Yes'_.

"They will meet at a particular location on the Earth – is that it?"

'Yes'.

"An actual... physical... real... I can actually go there... sort of place?"

The rods both swerve inwards confidently, _'Yes'_.

An unusual mood seems to be thickening all around me in the attic, "So then is Camelot a sort of code name for the place on the face of this Earth where all the various forces will meet?"

The rods both swerve inwards again, _'Yes'_.

A presence in the attic intensifies a little more, "Will this future place of Camelot be found in a specific country of this Earth?"

The rods both swerve inwards, _'Yes'_.

Shadows have darkened but it's the excitement of a childhood Christmas. An invisible light is filling the empty attic, "Is Britain that country?"

Now the rods go into their 'yes-no' twitch, _'Yes...no'_.

A thought flashes, "Ah, do you mean Camelot will appear in a particular part of Britain?"

The rods both swerve inwards again, _'Yes'_.

"Is that place to be found somewhere inside the area we call Scotland?"

The rods both swerve outwards, _'No'_.

"Is it in the place we call England?"

The rods both swerve inwards and cross, _'Yes!'_

My facial expression changes, "You're saying that Camelot will appear somewhere in England?"

'Yes'.

The world outside the attic window is falling slowly into dusk while I ask, "Is Camelot a future location in England... a very specific location... where the forces will all meet together at some time in the future?"

The rods both swerve inwards, _'Yes'_.

I let both of the rods droop for a moment while my eyes turn away from looking at them, and a sudden thought flits into my head _and what would be the significance of the forces all meeting together?_

I knew that the Intelligence was saying Camelot is a place where one day the forces will all meet; but was it referring to the lines of electromagnetic force meeting at a certain place, or was it referring to something more important and mysterious than that? I already knew that a great many serpents converge on Glastonbury Tor: so the Intelligence must have been talking about something else – some other meeting of rather different forces there.

It was something not yet understood.

And another thing... If Camelot was in fact never a castle, and never a building somewhere, then maybe people argue about Camelot's location because it does not yet actually exist?

But then why in England? What is it about the old country?

I lean my head back slightly from the rods, "So can I ask you about something else that might have a connection to all this?"

The rods point rigidly forwards and then bob inwards hard, _'Yes'._

My eyes narrow again, "Do you know what this so-called Albion is that William Blake talked about?"

Now the rods swerve inwards with an imposing force, _'Yes'_.

Mouth clamps shut and my forehead wrinkles: then, "So what is Albion? Let me ask you this question... Is Albion a place?"

Now the rods both do their little twitch in and out... in and out, _'Yes... and no'_

Hesitation: then, "Is Albion a place that existed in the past... Albion? Did it ever exist in the past?"

The rods both swerve outwards, _'No'_.

The shadows in the attic have darkened even more, "So does Albion exist... today?"

The rods both swerve outwards again, _'No'._

A company is gathering around me, "So then... is Albion a place that will exist... in the future?"

The rods both twitch in and out... in and out: neither a 'yes' nor a 'no'.

Eyes widen, "You mean Albion is a place that has the potential to exist – is that it? Albion possibly could exist – yes?"

The rods both swerve inwards with an unexpected fierceness, _'Yes!'_

Hands are trembling slightly, "Like we said Camelot was a place that has the potential to exist – is that correct?"

The rods both swerve inwards to almost touch my chest, _'Yes!'_

An electricity of some kind fills the air – a thought flashes, "You say that Albion is maybe some sort of a place that has a potential to exist... So then is Albion connected to a particular country?"

The rods both swerve outwards, _'No'._

Bottom lip juts out, "It isn't a country... So then is Albion the entire Earth?"

The rods both point straight ahead and then they freeze exactly in that position.

My eyes narrow, "I think you're telling me something with your last response. Is Albion a state of being... that this entire Earth can attain – is that what Albion is?"

The rods both swerve inwards to cross, _'Yes!'_

Another hesitation: then, "So the Spirit of Albion... Is that something that brings about the heaven on Earth – is that correct?"

The rods both swerve inwards fiercely, _'Yes!'_

"And Albion is the Earth... in a state of peace – of equilibrium... where chaos has been vanquished and peace rules... Is that it? Is that what Albion is – the Earth at peace?"

The rods both swerve inwards fiercely again, _'Yes!'_

My facial expression changes, "And is this science that you're about to show me... Is this science of yours going to create the heaven on Earth?"

The rods both swerve to point rigidly forwards and go absolutely straight. Nothing. No response.

I stare at the rods. Suddenly a thought flashes, "Are you saying that the heaven on Earth will be made to exist by the completion of your science... only if the Science is actually completed: and is done properly?"

The rods both swerve inwards to almost touch my chest, _'Yes!'_

Eyes narrow: corners of my mouth turn upwards, "I thought so." In the attic's gentle gloom I turn my face slightly to one side, "A minute ago I mentioned The Spirit of Albion... Do you know what this so-called Spirit of Albion is that William Blake talked about?"

Now the rods both swerve inwards, _'Yes'_.

"Blake wrote about 'The Spirit of Albion'. So then is Albion a spirit?"

The rods both twitch inwards and then straightened immediately, _'Yes'_.

Hesitation: then, "But what is a spirit? Someone said that a ghost is a sort of a memory that appears to us as something we can see but can't communicate with – like a mirage, an illusion: but that a spirit is something that we can communicate with because it's actually a living thing; it's alive. Is that what a spirit is?"

The rods both twitch inwards and then straighten again, _'Yes'._

My facial expression has changed, "So then...are you... a spirit?"

The rods both swerve inwards, _'Yes'._

Hesitation: then, "Are you... the Spirit of Albion?"

The rods both twitch in and out... in and out, as if to say, 'Yes and no'.

My forehead wrinkles, "Yes and no? What does that mean? Let me ask you again – are you the Spirit of Albion?"

The rods both twitch in and out... in and out, as if to say, _'Yes and no'_.

"You're saying that you are...and that you're also not the Spirit of Albion? Is that what you're saying?"

The rods both swerve inwards confidently, _'Yes'_.

Eyes narrow, "Actually... I think I might know what you're saying here. Are you saying that you're an aspect of Albion? Is that what you mean?"

The rods both swerve inwards to almost touch my chest, _'Yes!'_

"You mean that Albion has more than one aspect to it?"

'Yes'.

"So Albion is not one thing?"

The rods both twitch in and out...in and out as if to say, _'Yes and no'_.

Forehead wrinkles again, "Albion is one thing – correct?"

The rods both twitch in and out in that same way, _'Yes and no'_.

Something is becoming more and more present in the attic while I ask, "You're saying that Albion is one thing that has many parts to it – is that what you're saying, yes?"

Suddenly the rods both swerve inwards, _'Yes'_.

Eyes widen, "Like colour is one thing... but colour is also a spectrum of different aspects that are all the same thing of colour?"

The rods both bob inwards confidently, _'Yes'_.

"And then all the colours can also be mixed together? So as to get something that has no particular colour at all – Yes?"

The rods both bob inwards again, _'Yes'._

My eyes stare fixedly at the rods, "So then is Albion something that is a spectrum... of many aspects that is also one singular thing at the same time?"

'Yes'.

Hesitation: then, "And you... who I'm talking to right now... are you a particular aspect of that spectrum?"

The rods both swerve inwards, _'Yes'_.

A sudden thought flashes, "Does the spectrum that you're an aspect of have a number – I mean... Does Albion have a particular number of aspects?"

The rods both swerve inwards again, _'Yes'_.

I turn my head slightly to one side, "Is that a number like ten?"

Now the rods both swerve outwards, _'No'_.

"You mean it's more than that?"

'No'.

"It's less than that?"

The rods both swerve inwards, _'Yes'._

"Is it nine?"

'Yes'.

Facial expression changes, "Is it eight?"

'No'.

By now my voice is a near-whisper in the attic's gloom, "So there are nine aspects that all combine to create... the Spirit of Albion?"

The rods both swerve outwards, _'No'._

Eyes widen, "Do you mean the nine aspects all come from... the Spirit of Albion – is that what you're saying?"

The rods both swerve inwards, _'Yes'_.

Another sudden thought flashes, "So then what did William Blake mean when he talked about... unchaining the heavenly spirit – I mean... Does the heavenly spirit have to be unchained or released from something?"

The rods both twitch in and out... in and out again, _'Yes and no'_.

"You're saying that it does have to be unchained from something?"

Now the rods both swerve outwards, _'No'_.

My eyes narrow again, "Then you're saying... that the heavenly spirit does not have to be released in some way – is that correct?"

The rods both swerve inwards, _'Yes'_.

Bottom lip juts out, "So this is another one of those areas where I don't really understand. Isn't it?"

The rods twitch inwards, _'Yes'_.

Hesitation: then, "Alright, so then please let me just go over a few things first... Albion was mistakenly made to be the old name for England. But you say that Albion... is in fact a name for the Earth in its heavenly state. Which therefore means that the Spirit of Albion... is really the Spirit of Heaven on Earth. But then what is the Spirit of Heaven? Most likely it's a nonsensical term for something that is actually quite real and meaningful. And then you say... that Albion is the collective spirit of nine aspects...that is found – in its entirety... within a single territory that later on became known as 'England'. Is that correct?"

The rods both twitch in and out...in and out, _'Yes and no'_.

"Is that nearly correct?"

The rods both twitch in and out... in and out, _'Yes and no'_.

"Was it incorrect when I said all nine aspects of Albion are found in a territory that later on became known as England?"

The rods both swerve inwards, _'Yes'_.

A sudden thought flashes, "I think I know what you're saying. I think I know what it is. It's that in the territory that people call England... there are nine locations... where the nine aspects of the Spirit of Albion... can appear upon the Earth – that's it, isn't it?"

The rods both swerve inwards and crossed, _'Yes'_.

Eyes widen, "And that when that spectrum is released through these nine places... from the area people today call England... then a sort of heaven on Earth will begin to appear all around the world – is that correct?

The rods both swerve outwards, _'No'_.

Another image, "Wait a minute... I think I know, I think I know – is it something like this... The nine have to be somehow introduced into nine locations that exist inside this area of land that we call England, not released from England but actually introduced into the physical forces of England... so that from those nine locations the heavenly spirit that is also called Albion... will be transmitted all around the Earth... so that the Earth will be released from the horrors that it's caught up in? Is that it?"

The rods both swerve inwards with a powerful force, _'Yes!'_

"That when the complete spectrum of what actually is the Spirit of Albion...is somehow brought into these nine locations that just happen to be in a place called England... Then the fullness and completeness of intelligence and love will spread from those nine locations... and on and out... through the entire planet Earth? Is that correct"

Again the rods both swerve inwards fiercely, _'Yes!'_

My hands tremble slightly, "So then... can you show me what I need to do in order to help you bring all of that heavenly spirit... that you are but one aspect of... into the forces of the entire Earth?"

The rods both swerve inwards and cross, _'Yes!'_

Mouth is dry, "Can you show me now... Here today?"

The rods both swerve inwards, _'Yes'._

I fall silent with the rods held out in front of me, "Then show me."

While the hoot of a tawny owl trembled over the late dusk, a naked light bulb dangling from the low ceiling was switched on finally. In the following hours I would learn many facts about the Science's first sequence: and six months later that first sequence was done.

Months later it would come as rather a shock to learn that a second sequence of the Science had to be completed: and not only that, but its duration would be three and a half years. Its first stage was carried out on Saint Michael's Mount (with the second part of that stage done at the marsh). This was soon followed by the Silbury Hill episodes of the second stage. But after climbing down from Silbury on that cloudy afternoon (in early January 2005) I was having serious doubts about a sequence that would take three and a half years. It was an awfully long time for a sequence because I could even die at some point, thus leaving the second sequence unfinished. A situation like would be unacceptable because a half-finished sequence might create more problems than it was designed to solve. Therefore three and a half years was far too long, and a shorter version of the second sequence had to be created somehow.

The perfect answer to that deepening dilemma emerged during this final dialogue; which happened approximately three weeks after the afternoon episode on Silbury Hill... I'm standing in the hall of my flat in Tottenham ( _North London_ ) one afternoon; and using only one copper rod as opposed to two, "In the October of last year (2004) you showed me... that there is a second sequence to be completed in the Science – is that correct?"

The rod swerves inwards, _'Yes'._

One corner of my mouth curls upwards, "And I was really pleased when you told me that... Wasn't I?"

The rod swerves outwards, _'No'_.

"You're absolutely correct. I was not happy about it at all... But there's something I want to ask you... So far I have completed two full stages of that second sequence – yes?"

The rod swerves inwards, _'Yes'_.

Eyes narrow, "And is it true that this second sequence involves nine locations... and that each location is supposed to be visited on three separate full moons – is that correct?"

The rod swerves inwards hard, _'Yes'_.

I stare fixedly at the copper rod, "And that each full moon visit had to be completed by a new moon visit – yes?"

The rod swerves inwards in that attentive way, _'Yes'_.

Hesitation: then, "So in the end it means that there are nine locations in the second sequence... And that they all have to be visited six times – is that correct?"

The rod swerves inwards, _'Yes'_.

My forehead wrinkles, "Meaning that in the second sequence I would have to make fifty-four visits. Is that correct – fifty-four visits to places that are all across Britain?"

The rod swerves blithely again, _'Yes'_

I turn my head slightly to one side, "That's a lot of visits, wouldn't you say?

The rod points forward and then fixes in a straight-ahead position; as if to say, 'I'm not sure what you mean'.

The hall where I'm standing is full of afternoon light. For a few seconds my eyes wander to an open doorway leading into the kitchen; where outside, through the window, I can see the naked branches of trees. Then my eyes sweep back to stare at the rod, "I believe that a sequence like that would take three and a half years to complete – am I wrong or incorrect in thinking that? Three and a half years to do just one sequence? Is it true that my calculations on this matter are not correct?"

Now the rod swerves outwards, _'No'_

"You're saying that it will indeed take three and a half years to complete – is that correct?"

The rod twitches inwards very hard, _'Yes'._

I lean my head back slightly from the copper rod, "So the question is... What if I die in that time? Or get really ill? Or lose my job and can't have a car anymore and so I can't travel anywhere... Do you see what I'm saying?"

The rod swerves to point forwards and then it fixes in that position. It seems as if the Intelligence doesn't know what to say. No answer... Not a flicker.

Facial expression changes, "I think it's simple common sense, don't you?"

The rod stays pointing forwards. No response.

I turn my head slightly to one side, "What I'm saying is that surely... Surely there has to be an easier way of doing this second sequence – surely? I think it's way too much of a risk giving me a sequence that takes three and a half years to do. Anything could happen in that time. And I mean anything could happen to me personally... Like I could even be killed, you never know. And then the Science would probably be ruined... Unless you could find someone else to do it straight away... Which is highly unlikely... So what I'm asking you now is... Does this second sequence have to be done in the way that we've already worked out?"

The rod swerves outwards, _'No'_.

Hesitation: then, "Do you mean... It can be done another way?"

The rod swerves inwards, _'Yes'._

Hands are trembling slightly, "Is it an even more complicated sequence?"

The rod swerves outwards, _'No'_

Eyes widen, "Then is it a much quicker and a more efficient way?"

Now the rod swerves inwards, _'Yes'_.

The corners of my mouth have started to curl upwards, "You're saying that there is?"

The rod swerves inwards again, _'Yes'_.

There seems to be a presence of something good all around me in the hall, "And is it done using more than one location?"

The rod swerves outwards, _'No'_.

I stare fixedly at the copper rod, "You mean that the second sequence can be done using just one location?"

The rod swerves inwards, _'Yes'_.

I have to look away for a few seconds. Then I look back again at the rod, "And will it take fifty-six episodes to complete?"

Now the rod swerves outwards, _'No'_.

Daylight fills the hall while I ask the next question, "So then can you tell me where this one location is?"

Fiercely the rod swerves inwards, _'Yes'_.

An electrical atmosphere surrounds me, "Is it a location that I've already visited in the Science?"

The rod swerves inwards, _'Yes'_.

Hesitation: then, "Is it one of the nine locations that were in the original second sequence – the sequence I've already started doing?"

'Yes'.

"And you say I've already been there in the Science?"

'Yes'.

Mouth has gone dry, "Is it the Avebury stone circle?"

The rod swerves outwards, _'No'_.

Hesitation: then, "Is it Stonehenge?"

The rod swerves outwards again, _'No'_.

A thought flashes, "Is it... Glastonbury Tor?"

Fiercely the rod swerves inwards, _'Yes!'_

Eyes widen, "You're saying that for the second sequence I will only have to visit one location; and that location is Glastonbury Tor – is that correct?"

The rod swerves inwards, _'Yes'_

"More then once – I'll have to go to Glastonbury Tor more than once?"

The rod swerves inwards, _'Yes'._

My forehead wrinkles, "So then how many times will I have to go there... How many full moons are involved in this new version of the second sequence – can you tell me? Can you tell me exactly how many full moons are involved?"

Once again the rod swerves inwards, _'Yes'_.

Outside the kitchen window the light is starting to fade, "So are there more than ten?"

The rod swerves outwards, _'No'_.

Hesitation: then, "You're saying there are less than ten?"

Now the rod swerves inwards, _'Yes'._

I turn my head slightly to one side, "More than five?"

The rod twitched outwards in that bold sort of way, _'No'_.

Bottom lip juts upwards, "Are there five full moons?"

The rod twitches outwards, _'No'_.

Eyes narrow, "You're saying there are less than five full moons in this new second sequence?"

The rod swerves inwards fiercely, _'Yes!'_

Hesitation: then, "So then four full moons – is it four full moons?"

The rod swerves outwards, _'No'_.

Facial expression has changed, "So does it have three full moons – is that correct?"

The rod swerves inwards, _'Yes'_.

I stared fixedly at the copper rod, "Three full moons?"

The rod swerves inwards _, 'Yes'_.

Head tilts back slightly, "Less than three full moons – does the second sequence have less than three full moons?"

The rod swerves outwards, _'No'_.

"And each full moon has to be followed by a new moon visit – is that correct?"

Now the rod swerves inwards, _'Yes'_.

A police siren is rising and falling outside, "Does that mean that instead of fifty-six visits I can now do the second sequence... in six visits?"

The rod twitches inwards hard, _'Yes'._

Corners of my mouth are turning upwards, "And all of then can be done at Glastonbury Tor?"

Again the rod twitches inwards hard, _'Yes'_.

Suddenly a thought flashes, "So then hang on a minute... Does that mean all of the nine potencies will be made to appear at Glastonbury Tor?"

The rod twitches inwards again, _'Yes'_

Facial expression changes, "But doesn't that mean... A few months ago we talked about Camelot, didn't we?"

The rod swerves to point straight forwards. No response. Nothing.

I stare at the rod, "You said that Camelot is a place that hasn't yet appeared on Earth – that it isn't a place that existed in the past but is a place... that someday will exist in the future – is that what you said?"

The rod swerves inwards, _'Yes'_.

I turn my head slightly to one side, "So am I wrong in thinking... that Camelot will appear at Glastonbury Tor?"

The rod swerves outwards, _'No'._

Eyes narrow, "Have I got it wrong when I say that Glastonbury Tor... will become Camelot?"

The rod swerves outwards again, _'No'_.

"So that means that the Science will make Camelot appear for the first time on Earth... ever?"

The rod swerves inwards to almost touch my chest, _'Yes!'_

Eyes widen, "And that Glastonbury Tor – the Isle of Avalon... Are you saying the Tor will at last become Camelot?"

The rod swerves inwards, _'Yes'_.

It was through the window of a bus when I first saw the Isle of Avalon. The day was hot and the road was dusty. I was a gloomy teenager: and never would I have guessed that twenty-three years later I'd be alone one night on the Tor's grassy flank (and immediately after drinking deep from the Grail) with the strange goddess leaning right into my face so as to stare hyp-no-tising-ly close into my eyes. If someone next to me on that bus had leaned over to tell me that I'd be caught up one day in a science that destroys the Hell poisoning Heaven on Earth – well... I'd have looked sideways at them over the bridge of my nose but I probably wouldn't have laughed.

Also in volume one of Merlin & The Science
PART ONE: An Apprenticeship in Chains and Dragons

PART TWO: Voyage to Another Core

PART THREE: The Friends Have Come to The Vortex

PART FOUR: A Road Ends at The Tor

PART FIVE: The High Altar of Sacrifice

To find this entire series by Justin Suchley click here...

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/sucherz12

About the author

Justin Suchley lives presently in England; where he is now writing volume two of Merlin & The Science. To connect with him online...

<http://www.facebook.com/pages/Merlin-the-Science/317708681629467>

<https://twitter.com/#!/MerlinTheScienc>

