In the background was, the music

This is the oldest melody known in "modern" times.  Something similar echoed through the healing bascilicas according to Harry Wilson.

Here is more information on this amazing music.

Mister Wilson, Do You Believe in Ghosts?

The first time Harry met the curious engineers was in a penthouse suite at a casino resort.

“Tell me, Mister Wilson,” asked Max, “do you believe in ghosts?” 

     What an odd question, thought Harry.  “It would depend on what you mean by believe.  Is belief assured knowledge?  Or do you mean belief as a hoped-for situation?  I know people who believe in the Tooth Fairy.”

     “I admire precision,” nodded Max.  “The continuity of the soul, the essence of self-awareness continuing in time.  Yes?”

     Harry rose and went to the bar.  He found, and poured, a single malt scotch, neat.  If nothing else, Snead knew how to stock a bar.  “I would defer to the conservation of energy.  Energy can change form, be used, but can’t be destroyed.  The life force, energy, must continue.  Perhaps altered, but existing none-the-less.”

     “I believe Max means consciousness, self-awareness,” added Junior.  “Does consciousness follow the law of energy conservation, in your opinion?”

     “I don’t know enough to have an opinion since you put it like that,” confessed Harry.  “I’ve studied consciousness, but consciousness is considered a product of chemical processes in the brain.  I don’t think that’s what you mean.”

     “The brain is a machine,” stated Max.  “Tell me, Mister Wilson, are you an honorable man?”

     Another curious question, noted Harry.  “Am I honest with myself and others?  Yes.  When I’m wrong, I change my mind, rather than attempt to change everything else to suit me.”

     Max and Junior finished their vodka, exchanged expressions, and stepped towards another room.  “Excuse us, please,” said Junior as they entered the other room and closed the door.  Harry finished his scotch and returned the glass to the bar.  He went to the window.

     Snead had a point.  What better place to hold a discreet meeting than the top floor of a controlled environment?  Everyone else is busy and casino security tracks everyone, at least in the gaming areas.  Throw in a partnership with a discreet organization or perhaps the government and - voila – an accessible luxury safe house.

     Suppose he was standing in such a place right now.  What did it mean?  What was Harry Wilson doing here?  Why was he here?  Well, that much he knew.  When Snead called the second time he reminded Harry of the activation clause in his contract.  The government could, under circumstances, invoke his service ad hoc.  Translation:  Go voluntarily or go in handcuffs, but to the meeting ye shall go!  Harry recalled that clause.

The Damndest Dream

It was that dream that marked me.  I still recall it - a "dream within a dream" event where I was aware on all levels, that is, I knew that I was dreaming and that I allowed myself, in that dream, to enter into another dream.  The events witnessed in the dream got their attention.  That's what Rosalyn was looking for, among other things.  Sure messed up my love life, but what an adventure.

From The Krismere:

“The sky was absolutely black and the stars were crystal points.  Beautiful, just beautiful.  I was standing there, on the beach, when I noticed a brighter star on my right moving steadily across the sky.  It stopped, then moved in the oppsite direction.  Then the other stars began to swirl and collect into curious shapes – much like watching new year’s eve fireworks, only silent.  Next I noticed hazy forms dancing in the sky – very wispy things, like jellyfish craft, with soft lights.

     “There were two others with me, I think you, and I’m not sure of the other person, but all of us saw it.  Then from behind me floated a huge, hard edged, craft.  It was dark, that is, not translucent like the jellyfish things.  It was the damndest display I’d ever seen.”

     Harry Wilson closed the curtains to the hotel window.  He turned and smiled at the woman propped on several pillows on the bed.  “Then I woke up.”

     “And went to the bathroom,” added Rosalyn.  “The light woke me up.  But you went back to sleep.  I didn’t.”  Harry sat beside her, glancing at the clock on the night stand – 7:00 am.

     “Nearly four hours ago.  Doesn’t seem that long.  I wish I could remember more.  Damndest dream.”

It Began With a Call for Help...from the novel:

The following is from Part Two of "The Krismere" where the Prefect of a great Temple of Learning issues a call for help, knowing geologic cataclysm was imminent, 54,000 years ago.

 

          Arund-Du closed the solid oak door behind him.  He held a lamp, providing a modest light in the darkness inside the mountain, as he walked steadily through a narrow tunnel created long ago.  His walk ended at a short and narrow door.  Despite decades of being closed, the door opened easily.  Arund-Du stepped through and closed it – another seal, another barrier.  He saw evidence of the ancient machine.

            Arund-Du placed the lamp on the table and sat on the insulating wicker chair.  He looked at the rectangular void  hovering over the table.  Arund-Du didn’t know how it worked, only that it worked.  He was one of a few trained in its use.  Krismere was slated for that training in the future.

            But at this moment Arund-Du was the only one who could access the ancient machine.  He sat, still, and after a moment could hear inside his head the welcoming tones of communication.  His training allowed him to identify and separate the tones and mentally place them in position in the void.  That achieved, he saw the red spot that indicated communication was proceeding.

            Arund-Du summarized the three hazards in conjunction – the shifting continental plate, the looming volcano, and the asteroid.  This rare combination was projected to cause considerable physical damage to much of the planet and destroy the Temple altogether.  There was silence.  Did his message get through?  Was he understood?  He didn’t know who was on the other end, as it were, only that for eons someone was.

            The Prefect paused.  He knew a terrible event was coming.  What did he want?  Help preserving records?  Moving people to safety?  Arund-Du considered what he desired the most – unfettered knowledge for every person.  The ancient ones called such illumination The Krismere, meaning an awakening, personal insight, and conscious access to the eternal records.  It was fitting, he thought, to bestow that name on his protégé, the young man known as Krismere.  Arund-Du made a specific request:  “Kindly assist The Krismere.”

            The red spot winked out, the tones faded, and the communication ended.  Arund-Du was pleased.  They understood and would assist The Krismere.  Satisfied with that, Arund-Du now set to his next task – saving lives.

It wasn't a dream

I’m not sure how to describe the experience, but it was not what we would experience as a dream. Several times I literally patted and pinched myself to prove that physically I was aware. You can’t have a physical sensation like that in a dream – you’ve got to have a physical body and sensory systems.

The visual imagery was “normal” that is, fully three dimensional – objects with mass. Now it was intriguing that a lot of the inter-personal communication was non-verbal but thoughtful. I spoke, made sounds, and I heard sounds, but at the same time it was possible for me to know blocks of thought from others.

The experience was recognizable yet distinctly different. I wondered, for a while, if perhaps I had been drugged as a part of the experiment and the experience a hallucination or mental construct. I don’t know of a hallucination (whatever that truly is) or mental creation that includes bumping into things.

Professor Krismere

I never had the chance to sit in on one of Krismere's lectures nor really have the opportunity to discuss philosophy and such with him.  The following is reported as occurring:

“Consciousness is life and life is consciousness,” stated Krismere in the cozy lecture hall. There were a dozen students at his presentation, one of two provided by Krismere each day on the subject.

“The degree of life matches the degree of consciousness. Consciousness knows this and wants to expand,” Krismere said. He held up a stone.

“A rock is a rock is a rock. Yet this stone has a degree of consciousness. Is it self-aware? Unlikely. It possesses the consciousness of minerals. What does a rock want? Imagine this rock could speak. I ask, rock, what do you desire? What does it say?” Krismere asked the class.

Rhea was quick with a response. “I want to be like a plant, to stretch my being to the sunshine, to absorb rather than shed water, to release oxygen rather than corrode. It would be fun being a plant.” Some in the room laughed quietly.

Krismere smiled. “Indeed. A rock would desire to have more fun and, for a rock, a plant is an exciting existence.”

Another student remarked, “So, when I look upon a mountain with trees, I see the plants eating the rocks and the rocks thinking more, more, make me a plant?” There was muffled laughter. Krismere smiled at the image of trees devouring a mountain.

“Yes,” he said, “that’s how it appears to be. Life must be born into this realm and a manner for a rock, minerals, to become a greater consciousness is to become a part of a plant, which produces the seed that births a new plant – of which the rock is now a part.”

Another student asked, “By this process a plant may desire to evolve into an animal? A desire to move around freely, not rooted in the ground?”

Krismere noticed Arund-Du step into the rear of the room. Time to end the class.

Max and Junior

I never learned the true identity nor true roles of these two.  My encounters with them were as balking scientists (engineers as Thomas Snead called them - a reference Max refuted) on the project.  It was clear that Max was senior by many years but both struck me as from East Europe, English was a second language.  I specifically recall Max's question to me when I interviewed them, "Do you believe in ghosts?"  I thought at the time he was wanting to know my definition of believe and not the constitution of  whatever ghost may be.

Whether they designed the experiment or managed it is unknown.  They were intimately involved and truly stunned when the project deviated from the plan.