Chapter 23

            Mubarak took me aside before we set out for the transition zone. I don’t know how he did it, but we somehow became alone, without anyone else realizing it. It was as if time beyond us had stopped, and the two of us were allowed a personal interlude.

            He placed his hand gently on my shoulder and looked into my eyes.

            “We are about to see something that will change your life – if all of this hasn’t done so already,” he said. “We will be entering the City. You will see that the ‘jinn world’ is more than you could ever have imagined.”

            He gave my shoulder a tender squeeze. “Emily, I do care for you, more than you can know. No matter what happens, please understand that I am on your side, and will help you in any way I can to fulfill your mission here.”

            “Thank you, Mubarak,” I said. His attention made me confused, and a bit flustered. “I appreciate that. Everything is so strange, I don’t know what to expect.”

            “First we will show you and your team the City. Then we will arrange a meeting with our leaders. We have an announcement to make, and a proposal that we would like you to consider.”

            “Can you give me a hint?”

            “I wish I could. But it is not my place to discuss these things.”

            Mubarak looked around, and seemed to see some things beyond my vision. All I could see was a blurring, a kind of whirlwind that circled around us, demolishing reality.

            He looked at me again. “As you know, things have been happening, things aimed at stopping you from entering the City. The Iranians are here. They have sent a team of soldiers to stop you.”

            This may sound odd, but I was shocked and at the same time not surprised. I didn’t want to think about the possibility that we could have an international incident on our hands. I knew the White House would not be pleased. Yet I wasn’t surprised to learn Iran was meddling in the Najran area, with its substantial numbers of “non-Sunnis.”

            “Where are they now?” I asked.

            “Not too far from here. But you will never see them. We arranged a special reception for them.”

            “You didn’t kill them, did you?”

            Mubarak smiled. “No, but they definitely tried to kill you and your team. Let’s just say they are preoccupied now, and will remain so for quite some time – at least until your visit is concluded.”

            I knew better than to press Mubarak for details. When the time was right, he would tell me more.

            Suddenly he leaned toward me and kissed me softly on the cheek. It seemed so natural that I didn’t pull back or resist in any way. I accepted his kiss and the warm smell of him in my personal space. Jeez, I thought, what the hell is happening here?

            The blurry whirlwind that surrounded us quickly coalesced into reality, and we were back with our colleagues in the cave. Devereaux shepherded all of us together and we began moving in the direction Mubarak indicated. The Marines, of course, took the lead. Dan Keller was whispering something to Pvt. Willis, and he managed to make her smile. Life goes on, I thought, and I smiled as well.

           

            Frank Devereaux was silent as they walked toward the “transition zone.” He knew he would soon be called upon to make some serious decisions for the White House, and he hoped they would be the right ones. He reflected on how strange a course his career had taken. He had earned a Ph.D. in astronomy from the University of Texas at Austin, and then had found himself working for Lockheed Martin on a space telescope project. NASA had snared him, and he had spent a few years at the Johnson Space Center in Clearwater, Texas. Then NASA had loaned him to the White House. A small-town Texas science nerd, working for the President of the United States. As director of the White House Office of Science and Technology Policy! How on earth do these things happen?

            Devereaux had no significant other, no family to speak of. He was a lone wolf, due to his lack of social skills and his intense focus on his work. He wished he were married, with a family – something to live for. But he couldn’t see how that would ever happen. He would love to settle down with someone like Emily Goddard, but clearly women like that were not interested in him. So he focused on his work, and his role in scientific advancement.

            The world of science was about to be shaken – profoundly – when they announced the initial contacts with these “jinn” or “aliens” or whatever they proved to be. Regardless of what you called them, these beings were very advanced scientifically and technologically, and Devereaux hoped to be able to announce discoveries that would benefit mankind and perhaps, on a personal level, nudge him along in the direction of a Nobel Prize.

            The Iranian involvement was worrisome. The last thing the United States needed was some kind of political or military crisis that would cause the jinn to break off contact and delay the development of a productive scientific relationship with them. Devereaux had confidence in their guide Mubarak Awda, however, and the White House official was optimistic that the jinn could keep the lid on things.

            It was amazing that he could be thinking such thoughts! So much had changed since the White House first dragged him into this affair. He thought: We are beyond the stage where belief in jinn or aliens is an issue. This is our new reality, and we must confront it, and deal with it. From what he had learned so far, these jinn were indeed an ancient race, and had interacted with man since earliest times. Now that interaction would be out in the open – no longer the stuff of myth and legend. They have much to teach us, Devereaux mused. We must be receptive and open to their ideas….

            The team retraced its way to the “transition zone.”  They entered the chamber and were bathed in its purple glow. The opening to the chamber sealed itself, and the walls began to spin. The team stood in the middle, and waited.

            When the spinning stopped, another opening dilated, this time emitting intense white light. 

            “We have reached the City,” Awda told his teammates. “You may exit now.”

            On Devereaux’s instructions, the Marines had shouldered their weapons. They led the way, passing through the opening into the bath of light. The rest followed. Bringing up the rear were Emily and Mubarak.

           

            The “transition zone” brought the visitors to the very bottom level of the Anomaly, the “peak” of the inverted pyramid. After passing through a zone of pure light, which Semple thought might have sterilizing properties, they stepped into a square plaza, paved with a glossy, dark-blue, crystalline substance. The floor was so highly polished that they walked carefully, concerned about slipping. But it was anything but slippery. Their steps were sure and their boots held fast.

            Devereaux looked up from the floor and shot a quizzical look at Awda.

            “It’s sapphire,” Mubarak said. “With some special molecular adjustments.”

            They looked upward and froze in their steps, as they took in the amazing structure of the Anomaly. They marveled at the sequence of surrounding levels, which grew ever larger as the structure climbed toward the top of the vast chamber. Each level seemed to be its own city, with astounding architecture in strange shapes and vivid colors, clusters of towering buildings, wrapped around the central pit. The buildings glistened, each with its own dazzling color, resembling the hue of a precious stone or mineral: gold, silver, diamond, emerald, ruby, sapphire, opal, topaz, lapis lazuli…. From the team’s perspective at the bottom of the pit, it was impossible to see the floor or base of each level, but the familiar sounds of city life reached them, and they knew there must be traffic and motion and activity at each level. There was a scattering of aerial craft moving about at each level, and sometimes flying across the central pit. In fact, not only aircraft were aloft: from time to time a humanoid form would launch itself and fly across the pit, and once they saw an immense, golden-feathered raptor in flight, reminiscent of Sinbad’s roc. In the brightened windows of tall buildings, they could see beings moving about, living their lives. Amid the clusters of buildings, there were a few large signs – billboards? – with strange illuminated glyphs and puzzling video streams. As the team took in this complex sensory experience, there were a few gasps, some exclamations, and from Sgt. O’Dell a muttered “Holy Fucking Shit….”

            The bottom plaza was several hundred meters across. Three unidentified, apparently unarmed people were crossing the plaza, heading directly for the newly arrived team. The visitors moved toward the three at Awad’s urging, and they met in the middle of the plaza.

            The three were dressed in identical gray jumpsuits, each with a red pentagram on the left breast, and highly polished boots. Each of the three appeared human: a woman, a man, and one whose gender was not obvious, each of a different ethnicity. The woman resembled an African, a tall Ethiopian. The man, also tall, had reddish hair and appeared European. The third, with black hair and somewhat hazy features, seemed Chinese. The “Ethiopian” woman did the talking.

            “Welcome!” she said. “My name is Miriam, and I speak for our leaders. Your arrival is the fulfillment of an ancient dream. We hope it is the beginning of fruitful partnership.”

            She smiled at the team. She was a handsome woman, with piercing brown eyes, dark skin and delicate features. Keller could imagine her as a princess in some ancient kingdom. Like the others, her black hair was cropped short.

            “We are the leadership of the City. We rule jointly on behalf of our people, and for a limited time. Consider us a kind of ‘executive committee,’ selected from a large leadership body. Several years from now, others will be chosen to replace us. In ancient times, our people were ruled by a king, but this has not been the case for many years. Like you, we have modernized, and our political, social and economic systems have evolved greatly.”

            Miriam gestured toward her two colleagues. She introduced the European as “Denis,” and the Chinese as “Lee.” “The three of us have taken human forms and names, somewhat representational of the types of your species, to enable you to quickly process what is happening to you. We want you to be as comfortable as possible during your stay with us.”

            She paused and listened to a voice no one else could hear.

            “There isn’t much time, and we have much to do,” she said. “Please come with us.”

            It was an amazing orientation, quick and to the point. They divided us into functional groups and assigned us guides or instructors. Keller, his assistant Al-Shaikh and the Marine fire team received a security briefing on the Iranians and the local troublemaker, Bamahfuz. The cavers, Lasser and Bakhashaf, were briefed on the geology of the Anomaly, and how the city was built. Devereaux, Semple and I – along with Mubarak – sat down with the leadership and discussed strategy.

            Afterwards, our team reassembled in a large room with couches arranged in one corner like a mini-majlis, or Arab reception room. We sat on the couches and talked. There were no jinn physically present, but we assumed they were listening. I briefed the others on what we had learned.

            “They are an old race,” I said. “In fact, they are the oldest intelligent species on our planet. They differ from us in a number of ways. One of the most significant is their ability to disappear from sight by slipping through cracks in space-time and entering unseen dimensions. Another important skill is shapeshifting. Sometimes this is merely holographic: They appear to change shapes, but don’t really do so. But other times, they actually metamorphose into other living organisms. I’m still not sure how they do this. But I know it is more difficult, and is only done for important reasons.”

            Keller had a question: “What about possession? Can they really possess humans?”

            “Yes…. They can. But only for short periods, and only if the possessed person is unaware of what is happening and does not resist. Basically they gain control of physical processes. But if the person wants to regain control of his body, he can do so, and can drive the jinni out. Those stories we hear about long-term possession, for months or years – those are really psychological disorders, nothing more.”

            Lasser asked: “What about paranormal creatures in other parts of the world: elves, fairies and the like? Are they connected with these chaps?”

            “It’s the same phenomenon. One race, or species. In fact, the modern reports of space aliens, UFOs and the like are jinn manifestations as well. I might note that these beings don’t call themselves ‘jinn.’ That’s an Arabic term, from a root that means hidden or concealed.”

            “What do they call themselves?” Pvt. Willis asked.

            “We don’t know yet,” I said. “We don’t even know what language they speak, if any. They seem to communicate with each other mentally or telepathically. They speak to humans in whatever language is appropriate.”

            “What do they really look like?” asked Sgt. O’Dell.

            “That’s another puzzle. Since they originate in a more complex space-time than ours, their true appearance would probably be beyond our understanding. I understand, though, that this appearance manifests itself in our four-dimensional space-time as a floating globe of light.”

            “What do they want from us?”

            “I think they want to convey some important information. They hint at it. They are particularly insistent that the American government receive this information. But I suspect we need a few more briefings before they will open up.”

            Keller asked: “Do you trust them? After all, they have a reputation as tricksters and troublemakers.”

            “I think much of that is myth. They are so much more than the legends.”

            “Did they give you any idea what lies in store for us, the human race? Any predictions?”

            “Not really, but one of them said something strange: ‘We were here before you,’ she said. ‘But we will not be here after you.’ I have no idea what that means.”

           

            As Emily briefed the group, Devereaux thought about their earlier meeting with the jinn leadership. It was almost too much to take in at a single sitting. He was totally out of touch with Washington for now – their satellite phones didn’t work, and the Marines’ radios were inoperative. Frank had much he wanted to tell the President and senior staffers, but it would have to wait.

            Devereaux marveled at the great age of the jinn species. The jinn had told them that they had witnessed human evolution, had been along on the journey from early primates to modern man. They seemed very protective of humans, and very proud of the long and difficult course of human development. Could they have played a role at key junctures, in moving the human species forward?

            Frank quietly prayed that he would be up to the task that lay ahead.

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