Children of the Source by Geoffrey Condit Read Free Book Online

red on his fingers and said incredulously, “It’s blood.  Blood.”
        Carson stood stunned, but regained his composure quickly,  ordering his men to disperse the crowd quietly.   “Clean up this mess.” Face convulsed with anger, he said, “You come with me, goddammit.”  We went inside his office in silence.  Behind his desk, he leaned on it and snarled, “I don’t know what the hell you did out there, but I know yo u did it, and everyone saw it.  I want an explanation.  Sit down.”
       “Believe me, I took no pleasure in what happened to you.   The water turned to blood to symbolize what was being done.  O’Banion’s appearance was real enough and so were the tears.  The message’s pretty obvious.”  I paused.
        Carson sat in stony silence, blood stains on his shirt.  “There has to be a way ... .  To hell with the symbolism, man.  I want to know how you did it.”
        “I’m trying to think of a simple way to put it.   Remember the Kirlian        photography I showed you once?”
        “Yeah.   Energy below the threshold of physical sight.  Increased light from fingertips when we thought about it.  I remember.”  His eyes narrowed and lips compressed.  Not a good sign.
        “The fingertip stuff was on an individual level, but energy also acts on a collective level.   I took it to the collective level.”
        “An example being?”   He looked out the window of his office.
        “The best example is the Fatima manifestations in Portugal where eight thousand people witnessed a promised incident where the sun seemed to spin in the sky and plunge to earth.   Where it was raining and muddy, everything was completely dry minutes after a drenching rain.  This was October nineteen-seventeen.”
        “A collective invention,” Carson said.   Little did he know.
        “Yeah, but you need to remember all energy is living and conscious.   Plus all energy can be communicated with.  There are Beings on the Other side who know a great deal about manipulating energy and are willing to help.”
        He watched me, blood drying on his shirt.   “Then O’Banion wasn’t O’Banion.”
        “No.   O’Banion was O’Banion.  I knew of his emotional disbelief in life after death.  Emotions carry enormous energy.  They’re ideas rooted in the energy.  So much so a person dying in one part of the country can project and materialize to a loved one in another part of the country.  What you saw was done on a collective level.  I and others lent him energy to do what he did.”
       “Well, whatever happened, the tears will dry and vanish, and so will the bloodstains.   We’ll wash them out.  Then things will get back to normal.”
        I shook my head.   “They will stay.  Watch.”  Carson’s face tightened. “The people need a reminder,” I said.  “Let me take O’Banion’s body.  Someone will make a shrine of his grave if you don’t.”
        “No thanks to you,” he said.   “And the spacecraft?”
        “They were here once before.   In those days they came from a planet they almost destroyed with their minds.  It would make our conventional wars seem as nothing and nuclear ones laughable.  Their planet was many times the size of Earth.  They vowed to the Creator they would war no more, but once on Earth the leaders squabbled and fought again. But not before some of their people left and built what they had long ago, peace and a unity, where potentials could be directed in areas other than conflict, strife, and adversary roles.  They made it.”  I pointed to the spacecraft.  “You see them today.
        “The factions that stayed, warred.   Their original leader, when he was the only one left, stood before the seared land, and the shells of the once living and cried aloud to the Creator in agony over what they had done. He begged to know what he could do to repair what he had done.