‘When one or the other of these captains is at sea, he will always find that a significant number of his crew are fundamentally opposed to his having command, so there is always a significant risk of mutiny.

‘Of course, this is not the method by which a captain achieves his command - fortunately. I merely wished to illustrate the dangers that are inherent in electing leaders on the basis of political bias rather than for their ability to lead people, honestly, in appropriate directions.

‘While on the subject, I must emphasise another point. When our ‘captain-elect’ is at sea, he is the one and only leader of the vessel, whereas, when a party leader is elected as head of state, he is immediately confronted with a ‘Leader of the Opposition’. From the very beginning of his leadership, whether his decisions are good or bad, he will be systematically criticised by an opposing party bent on his demise. How can a country be properly governed under such a system, Michel?’

‘Do you have a solution?’

‘Of course, and it has already been described to you. The only solution is to follow the example of the government of Mu.

‘This is to place as head of state a leader whose unique goal is the wellbeing of the people - a leader not motivated by false pride or party and personal pecuniary ambition; to do away with political parties - and the resentment, the grudges, the hatred that go with them; and to hold out your hand to your neighbour - to accept him and work with him, regardless of differences you may have. He is after all, in the same boat with you, Michel. He is part of the same village, the same town, the same nation, the same planet.

‘What is the house which shelters you made of, Michel?’

‘Of bricks... of wood, tiles, plaster, nails...’

‘Indeed, and what are all these materials made of?’

‘Atoms, of course.’

‘Perfect. Now these atoms, as you know, have to connect very closely in order to form a brick or any other building material. What would happen if these atoms repelled each other instead of combining as they do?’


‘And there we are. When you push away your neighbours, your son or your daughter - if you aren’t always ready to help even those whom you don’t like, you contribute to the disintegration of your civilisation. And this is what is happening on Earth more and more, through hate and violence.

‘Consider two examples well known to all on your planet, which prove that violence is not a solution. The first is Napoleon Bonaparte: by the use of arms he was able to conquer all of Europe, and he established, as national leaders, his own brothers to diminish the risk of treason.

‘It is widely accepted that Napoleon was a genius and, indeed, a competent organiser and legislator since, 200 years later, many of his laws still exist in France. But what has become of his empire, Michel? It quickly disintegrated because it had been established through the use of arms.

‘Hitler, similarly, sought to conquer Europe by force and you know what happened there.

‘Violence does not pay, and never will. The solution lies, rather, in love and the cultivation of minds. Have you ever noticed that, all round the world, and particularly in Europe, you had many more great writers, musicians and philosophers emerging in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries?’

‘Yes, I believe it is so.’

‘Do you know why?’


‘Because, along with the advent of electricity, the internal combustion engine, the automobile, the aeroplane and such like, the people of Earth neglected the cultivation of their spirituality and focused on the material world.

‘Now, as the great Thaora explained, materialism poses one of the greatest threats to your present life and your future lives.

‘After politicians, you have the problem of journalists and reporters. There are some among them, although unfortunately rare, who try to do their job of disseminating information honestly and sincerely, attending carefully to their sources; but we are greatly alarmed that most of them seek only sensationalism.

‘Your television stations too, screen more and more scenes of violence. If those responsible were obliged to study psychology before being able to undertake such grave responsibilities, a step in the right direction would have been taken. Your reporters seem to seek and even prey on scenes of violence, murder, tragedy and disaster; we are sickened by their behaviour.

‘The leaders of a country, the journalists, in fact anyone who, by their position, is able to exert influence on the people, has an enormous responsibility towards millions of people who are no more nor less than his fellow creatures. Too often, even those who have been elected to their positions by the people, forget the obligations they have in this regard -until, that is, a few months prior to a new election, when it occurs to them that the people are dissatisfied and might vote them out.

‘This is not the case with journalists though, as they have not needed to inspire confidence in the people in order to attain their positions; and yet they have a similar power to influence in ways which are good or bad.

‘Indeed, they are capable of doing much good when they alert public attention to danger and injustice - and this should be their main function.

‘To return to the need for such high profile people to understand and apply psychology, I will give you a good example to illustrate what I mean. On TV we see the following report: A young man has just taken a rifle and killed seven people including two women and two young children. The reporter shows the bloodstains and the bodies, adding that the killer had imitated the style of an actor, well known for his violent roles in films. And the result? The murderer is going to be proud of himself - not only has he achieved ‘national notoriety’, he has also been compared with one of the most popular heroes of violent modern films. But, beyond that, another such madman who sees the reports and hears the commentaries of reporters who pay unwarranted attention to this odious crime, will be inspired to seek his own moment of national ‘glory’.

‘Such a person is usually a failure - someone repressed, frustrated, inhibited; someone ignored, who yearns for recognition. He has just seen the report and he knows that all violence is reported, and sometimes exaggerated, by TV reporters and journalists. Perhaps his picture will appear on the front page of all the newspapers - and why not? Then he will go before the courts and perhaps be referred to by a name like ‘Jack the Ripper’ or ‘The Strangler with the Velvet Glove’. No longer will he rank among ordinary mortals. The harm that such irresponsible reporting can do is unimaginable. Thoughtlessness and irresponsibility are not qualities apparent in civilised nations. That’s why I say, on Earth, you have not even achieved the first letter of the word civilisation.’

‘So, what is the solution?’

‘Why do you ask such a question, Michel? You have been chosen because we know how you think, and I know that you know the answer to your question. Still, if you insist, you will hear it from my mouth. Journalists, reporters and anyone else whose function it is to disseminate information should devote no more than two to three lines to such cases of murder. They could simply say: ‘we have just learned of the murder of seven people by an irresponsible lunatic. This murder occurred at whatever location and is a sorry event in a country that considers itself to be civilised.’ Full stop’.

‘Those who seek their day or weeks of glory would surely side step murder as a means of attaining it, if their efforts received so little publication in return. Don’t you agree?’

‘What, then, should their reports comprise?’

‘There are so many worthwhile things to show - reports of worthwhile events which improve the psyche of Earth people rather than brainwashing them in a negative way. Reports such as the risking of life to rescue a child who was drowning, for example, or of assistance given to the poor to improve their lot.’

‘Of course, I agree with you entirely, but I’m sure the circulation of newspapers depends on the sensational news they contain.’

‘And there we are, back at the root of all evil that I mentioned earlier - money. This is the curse that undermines your entire civilisation; and yet, in this particular case, the situation could be reversed if those responsible were motivated to change. On no matter which planet, the greatest dangers to humankind are, ultimately, of a psychological, rather than material nature.

‘Drugs, similarly, affect the psyche of the individual - not only do they ruin physical health, they also reverse1 the individual’s process of universal evolution. At the same time as they induce states of euphoria or artificial paradise, they are also directly attacking the Astral body. I will elaborate on this, for it is of great importance.

‘The Astral body can only be harmed by two things: drugs and the vibrations occasioned by certain kinds of noise. Considering only drugs, it must be understood that they have an influence that is totally against Nature. They ‘remove’ the Astral body to another sphere where it should not be. The Astral body should be either in a physical body or with its Higher Self, of which it is a part. When drugged, an individual’s Astral body is as though ‘asleep’ experiencing artificial sensations that completely distort his or her judgement. It is in the same situation as a physical body is during an important surgical operation. If you like, it’s like a tool that we bend or break by using it incorrectly or for a task for which it was not intended.

‘According to the length of time that a person is under the influence of drugs, his or her Astral body is going to decline or, more exactly, it is going to become saturated with false data. ‘Recovery’ for the Astral body can take several lifetimes: for this reason, Michel, drugs should be avoided at all costs.’

‘There is something I don’t understand then,’ I interrupted. ‘Twice, now, you have given me drugs to take in order to release my Astral body from my physical body. Haven’t you, thereby, done me a disservice?’

‘No, not at all. We used a drug that is not an hallucinogen, in order to assist a process which could occur quite naturally with adequate training. It is not a drug that ‘blinds’ and therefore presents no danger to your Astral body and its effects are very short-term.

‘Returning to the problems of your planet, Michel, the solution depends on love - not money. It requires that people rise above hate, resentment, jealousy and envy, and that each person, whether he be street sweeper or community leader, put his neighbour before himself, offering his hand to whoever needs it.


footnote 1 - Emphasis by Editor.


‘Everyone has need, both physically and mentally, of his neighbour’s friendship - not only on your planet, but on all planets. As Jesus said, when we sent him to you almost 2000 years ago: ‘Love each other’ - but of course...’

‘Thao!’ I interrupted again, almost rudely this time. ‘What did you just say in regard to Jesus?’

‘Jesus, Michel was sent to Earth from Thiaoouba almost 2000 years ago - just as Lationusi also went to Earth and has returned.’

Of all that had been explained to me, it was this unexpected revelation which shocked me most. At the same time, Thao’s Aura rapidly changed colour. The soft gold ‘mist’ around her head become almost yellow, and the gentle shower of colours from the top of her head, blazed forth with new energy.

‘A great Thaora is calling us, Michel. We must go immediately.’ Thao stood up.

I adjusted my mask and followed her outside, most intrigued by this sudden interruption and uncustomary haste. We boarded the flying platform and rose, vertically, above the branches of the trees. Soon we were flying over the beach, and then the ocean, travelling at a speed much greater than ever before. The sun was quite low in the sky and we skimmed over waters that were emerald green or a perfect azure blue - if I can describe colours in Earthly terms.

Huge birds, with a wingspan of about four metres, crossed our path just in front of us and the sun’s rays lit up the bright pink feathers of their wings and the bright green feathers of their tails.

Before long we had reached the island and Thao brought the platform down again in the park, in which seemed to be precisely the same spot as before. She signalled that I should follow her and we set off - she walking and I running behind her.

This time we did not head for the central doko, but took a different path, which led us eventually to another doko, of the same huge size as the central doko.

Two people, both taller than Thao, were waiting for us under the entrance light. Thao spoke to them in a low voice; then moved nearer to them and engaged in a brief consultation, from which I was excluded. They stood still, casting curious glances my way, but not smiling at all. I could see their Auras, which were less brilliant than Thao’s - a sure indication that they were not as highly evolved in spirit.

For a considerable time, we waited without moving. The birds from the park approached, watching us. No one, apart from me, paid them any attention; my companions were apparently deep in thought. I remember clearly, a bird, resembling a bird of paradise, came and stationed itself between Thao and me, for all the world as though it wanted to be admired.

The sun would soon set and I remember watching its last rays high up in the trees, igniting sparks of purple and gold among the branches. A flock of birds fluttered noisily in the canopy, breaking the silence that had been established. As if this had been a signal, Thao asked me to take off my mask, close my eyes and to take her hand that she might guide my steps. Much intrigued, I did as she asked.

Moving forward, I felt the light resistance, now familiar to me, as we entered the doko. I was told telepathically to keep my eyes half-closed and lowered, and to follow in Thao’s wake. We advanced about 30 paces before Thao stopped and placed me at her side. Still by telepathy, she indicated that I could now open my eyes and look around; this I did quite slowly. Before me were three figures remarkably like those I had met previously. Like the others, they sat cross-legged, straight backed, on fabric covered blocks, each seat being of a colour that complemented the occupant.

Thao and I were standing beside two similar seats until, telepathically, and without a gesture, we were invited to sit down. I looked around discretely, but saw no trace of the two characters who had met us at the entrance: perhaps they were behind me..?

Like before, the eyes of the Thaori gave the impression of being illuminated from within but, by contrast, this time I was immediately able to see their Auras, resplendent with bright colours all so pleasing to the eye.

The central figure rose by levitation, without altering his position, and slowly floated towards me. He stopped before and slightly above me, placing one of his hands at the base of my cerebellum and the other on the left side of my skull. Again, I felt my body invaded by the fluid-like feeling of well-being, but this time I almost fainted.

Removing his hands, he returned to his seat. Perhaps I should explain that the details concerning the position of his hands on my head were provided later, by Thao, as, once again, it was beyond me at the time to register such details. And yet I remember a thought that occurred to me - a thought rather out of place at such a time - when he resumed his seat: ‘I’ll probably never get to see one of these figures use his two legs as everyone else does.’




chapter 10

A different alien

and my former lives

A period of time had elapsed, I’ve no idea how long, when, instinctively, I turned my head towards the left. I’m sure my mouth fell open and remained that way. One of the two people I had met earlier was coming towards us from the left, leading a person, very odd in appearance, by the shoulder. For a moment I thought this person to be a Red Indian chief such as we see in films. I will try to describe him as best I can.

He was very small in stature, perhaps 150 centimetres but what was most striking about him was that he was as wide as he was tall - just like a square. His head was completely round and sat directly on his shoulders. What had at first sight brought to mind an Indian chief, was his hair, which was more like feathers, coloured yellow, red and blue, rather than hair. His eyes were quite red and his face was ‘flattened’ almost like a Mongoloid face. He had no eyebrows but lashes that were four times as long as mine. He had been given a robe like mine, although quite different in colour. The limbs that extended beyond the robe were of the same light blue colour as his face. His Aura, silvery in places, shone brightly and around his head was a strong halo of gold.

The shower of colour from the top of his head was much smaller than Thao’s, rising only a few centimetres into the air. He was, telepathically, invited to take a seat, about ten paces to our left.

Again, the central figure levitated towards the new arrival and placed his hands on his head, repeating the procedure I had experienced.

When we were all seated, the great figure began to address us. He spoke in the language of Thiaoouba and I was completely stunned at finding I understood everything he said, just as if he had spoken in my mother tongue!

Seeing my agitation, Thao telepathised, ‘Yes Michel, you have a new gift. It will be explained later.’

‘Arki,’ the Thaora was saying, ‘this is Michel, from the planet Earth. I welcome you to Thiaoouba, Arki. May The Spirit enlighten you.’

Addressing me, he continued. ‘Arki has come to visit us from the planet X’. (I am not allowed to reveal the name of this planet, nor the reason I have been forbidden to do so.) ‘And we thank him in the name of The Spirit and all the Universe, just as we thank you, Michel, for your willingness to collaborate with us in our mission.

‘Arki has come in his Agoura1 at our request, especially to meet you, Michel.

‘We wanted you to see with your own eyes and touch with your own hands, an extra-planetarian quite different from our own race. Arki inhabits a planet of the same category as Earth, although it is very different in certain respects. These ‘differences’ are essentially physical and have contributed, over the course of time, to the physical appearance of the people.

‘We also wanted to show you several things, Michel. Arki and his fellow beings are highly evolved both technologically and spiritually which might surprise you considering you will find his appearance ‘abnormal’, even monstrous. However, you can see by his Aura that he is highly spiritual and good. We also wanted to show you, by this experience, that we can give you for a time, the gift not only of seeing Auras, but of understanding all languages - and that, without recourse to telepathy.’

So that was it, I thought to myself.

‘Yes, that was it,’ Thaora replied. ‘Now, move closer, the two of you. Talk together, touch each other if you want to - in a word, make each other’s acquaintance.

I stood up and Arki did likewise. When he was upright, his hands almost touch the floor. Each had five fingers, like ours, but it had two thumbs - one in the same position as ours and the other where our little fingers are.[8]

We approached each other and he held his arm out to me, the wrist forward and fist closed. He was smiling at me, revealing a set of straight, even teeth, just like ours, but green. I held my hand out in return, not knowing what else to do, and he addressed me in his own language - now perfectly comprehensible to me.


(footnote1 - Spacecraft of the planet X which travels at a speed slightly below the speed of light.)


‘Michel, I am very pleased to meet you and would have liked to be

welcoming you as a guest on my own planet.’ I thanked him warmly, and filled with such emotion, began the sentence in French and finished it in English, which he, likewise, had no difficulty understanding!

He continued. ‘At the request of the great Thaora, I have come to Thiaoouba from planet X, a planet that resembles yours in many ways. It is twice larger than Earth, with 15 billion inhabitants but, like Earth and other planets of the first category, it’s a ‘Planet of Sorrows’. Our problems are much the same as yours: we have had two nuclear holocausts during our existence on our planet and we have experienced dictatorships, crime, epidemics, cataclysms, a monetary system and all that is associated with it, religions, cults and other things.

‘However, eighty of our years ago (our year lasts four hundred and two 21-hour-days) we initiated a reform. In fact, the reform was set in motion by a group of four people from a small village on the shores of one of our largest oceans. This group, comprising three men and one woman, preached peace, love and freedom of expression. They travelled to the capital city of their country and requested an audience with the leaders. Their request was denied for the regime was dictatorial and military. For six days and five nights, the four slept in front of the palace gates, eating nothing and drinking little water.

‘Their perseverance attracted public attention and by the sixth day, a crowd of 2000 had gathered in front of the palace. With feeble voices, the four preached to the crowd of uniting in love to change the regime - until guards put an end to their ‘sermon’ by shooting the four and threatening to shoot members of the crowd if they did not disperse. This they quickly did, in genuine fear of the guards. Nevertheless, a seed had been sown in the minds of the people. On reflection, thousands of them came to realise that, without a peaceful understanding, they were powerless, absolutely powerless.

‘Word was passed around among the people - rich and poor, employer and employee, worker and foreman, and one day, six months later, the entire nation came to a standstill.’

‘What do you mean by ‘came to a standstill’?’ I asked.

‘The nuclear power stations shut down, transport systems halted, freeways were blocked. Everything stopped. The farmers didn’t deliver their produce; radio and television networks ceased transmitting; communication systems shut down. The police were helpless in the face of such unity, for, in a matter of hours, millions of people had joined the ‘cease work’. It seemed, for that time, the people had forgotten their hates, jealousies, differences of opinion as they united against injustice and tyranny. A police force and an army comprise human beings and these human beings had relatives and friends among the crowd.

‘It was no longer a question of killing four subversive individuals. Hundreds of thousands would have had to be killed just to ‘liberate’ one power station.

‘In the face of the people’s determination, the police, the army and the Dictator were forced to capitulate. The only deaths to occur during this incident were the 23 fanatics who comprised the Tyrant’s personal guard - the soldiers were obliged to shoot them in order to reach him.’

‘Was he hanged?’ I asked.

Arki smiled. ‘Why, no, Michel. The people were through with violence. He was deported instead, to a place where he could do no further harm, and, in fact their example inspired his reform. He found, again, the path of love and respect for individual liberty. He died, eventually, repentant for all that he had done. Now, that nation is the most successful on our planet, but, as on yours, there are other nations under the domination of violent totalitarian regimes and we are doing all in our power to help them.

‘We know that all we do in this life is an apprenticeship, offering us the possibility of graduating to a superior existence and even freeing us forever of our physical bodies. You must know, too, that the planets are categorised and that it is possible for entire populations to emigrate to another, when their planet is in danger, but no-one can do so if the new planet is not of the same category.

‘Being, overpopulated ourselves and, having highly advanced technology, we have visited your planet with a view to establish a settlement there - an idea we decided against since your degree of evolution would bring us more harm than good.’

I was not very flattered by this reflection and my Aura must have indicated as much to Arki. He smiled and continued. ‘I’m sorry, Michel, but I am saying my piece without hypocrisy. We still visit Earth but only as observers, interested in studying, and learning from you, your errors. We never intervene because that is not our role, and we would never invade your planet, as this would be a backward step for us. You are not to be envied - materially, technologically or spiritually.

‘Going back to our Astral bodies, an Astral body absolutely cannot change to a superior planet until sufficiently evolved. We are speaking, of course, of spiritual evolution and not technological. This evolution occurs thanks to the physical body. You have already learned of the nine categories of planets - ours are at the bottom of the scale and the planets improve up the scale - up as far as this planet. [9] We, in our present physical bodies, can be permitted only nine days’ stay here. According to Universal Law, on the tenth day, our physical bodies would die and neither Thao nor the great Thaora, within whose power it is to revive the dead, would be able to prevent or reverse the process. Nature has very inflexible rules with well-established safeguards.’

‘But if I were to die here, perhaps my Astral body could stay here and I could be reincarnated as a baby on Thiaoouba...?’ I was full of hope, forgetting, for the moment, the family I loved back on Earth.

‘You don’t understand, Michel. Universal Law would require that you be reincarnated on Earth, if you had not yet finished your time there. But it is possible that when you do die on Earth - when your moment has come - your Astral body will reincarnate in a body on another, more advanced planet... a second or perhaps third category planet, or even this one, depending on your present degree of development.’

‘It’s possible then, to skip all categories and find ourselves reincarnated on a ninth category planet?’ I asked, still full of hope, for, most decidedly, I regarded Thiaoouba as a veritable paradise.

‘Michel, can you take some iron ore and some carbon, heat them to the right temperature, and produce pure steel? No. First you must skim the rubbish from the iron; then it goes back to the pot to be processed again and again and again... for as long as it takes to produce first-class steel. The same applies to us; we must be ‘reprocessed’ over and over until we emerge perfect, for eventually we will rejoin The Spirit who, being perfect himself, cannot accept the slightest imperfection.’

‘That seems so complicated!’

‘The Spirit, who has created everything, wanted it this way and I’m sure that, for him, it’s very simple; but for a poor human brain, I admit, it is at times difficult to comprehend. And it gets more difficult, the closer we try to get to the Source. For this reason, we have tried, and in several places with success, to abolish religions and sects. They apparently want to group people together and help them to worship God or gods and to understand [God1 - Editors comment.) better; and yet they make it all much more complicated and quite incomprehensible by introducing rituals and laws invented by priests who look to their own personal interests rather than following nature and Universal Law. I see by your Aura that you already realise certain of these things.’

I smiled, for it was true, and asked, ‘On your planet, can you see Auras, and read them?’

‘A few of us have learned to, myself included, but in this domain we are little more advanced than you. However, we study the subject enormously because we know this is what’s necessary for our evolution.’

He stopped there, quite suddenly, and I realised it was a telepathic order coming from the great personage that made him do so.

‘I must go now, Michel and I will be completely happy to do so if in having spoken to you, I have been able to assist you and your fellow creatures - on Earth and across the Universe.’

He held his hand out to me and I did likewise. In spite of his ugliness, I would have liked to kiss him and hold him in my arms. I wish I had...

I later learned that he had been killed, along with five others, when his spacecraft exploded just an hour after leaving Thiaoouba. I hoped that life would continue for him on a more hospitable planet... but perhaps he would return to his own in order to help his people - who knows? I had met, across the Universe, a brother who, like me, existed on a Planet of Sorrows - studying, at the same school, how one day, to gain eternal happiness.

When Arki had left the room with his mentor, I sat down again near Thao. The Thaora who had given me the gift of understanding all languages, addressed me again.

‘Michel, as Thao has already told you, you were chosen by us to come on this visit to Thiaoouba, but the essential motive for our choice has not been revealed. It is not only because you have a mind already awakend and open, but also - and principally - because you are one of the rare soukous inhabiting Earth at the present time. A ‘soukou’ is an Astral body that has lived eighty-one lives in human physical bodies, and has lived those lives [10] on different planets or different categories. For various reasons, the ‘soukous’ return to live on inferior planets, like Earth, when they could just as well continue to ‘climb the ladder’ without ever going backwards. You know that the number nine is the number of the Universe. You are here in the City of Nine Dokos, founded on Universal Law. Your Astral body has nine times nine lives, which brings you to the end of one of the great cycles.’

Once again, I was completely flabbergasted. I suspected I wasn’t living my first life, especially after my journey to Mu - but eighty-one lives! I didn’t know one lived so many...

‘It’s possible to live many more, Michel,’ said the Thaora, interrupting my thoughts. ‘Thao is up to her 216th, but other entities live far fewer. As I said, you have been chosen from among very few ‘soukous’ living on Earth, but, in order that you acquire a thorough understanding during the trip to our planet, we have planned another journey in time for you. So that you will better understand what reincarnation is, and what its purpose is, we will permit you to revisit your previous existences. This journey in time will be useful to you when writing your book as you will fully comprehend its purpose.’

He had barely finished speaking, when Thao took me by the shoulder and spun me around. She led me towards the relaxation chamber - a feature, it seemed, of each and every doko. The three Thaori followed us, still by levitation.

Thao indicated that I should lie down on a large piece of fabric that was just like an air cushion. The ‘chief’ Thaora positioned himself behind my head, the other two each holding one of my hands. Thao cupped her hands above my solar plexus.

The leader then placed the index fingers of both hands over my pineal gland, telepathically ordering me to stare at his fingers.

Seconds later, I had the impression of sliding backwards at incredible speed, through a dark, endless tunnel. Then, abruptly, I emerged from the tunnel into what seemed to be a gallery of a coal mine. Several men, wearing small lamps on their foreheads were pushing carts; others, a little further away, were attacking the coals with picks or shovelling it into carts. I moved towards the end of the gallery where I was able to examine one of the miners closely. I seemed to know him. A voice that came from within me said, ‘It’s one of your physical bodies, Michel.’ The man was quite tall and well built. He was covered in sweat and coal dust and laboured as he shovelled coal into a cart.

The scene changed abruptly, just as it had when I was in the psychosphere on Mu. I learned that he was called Siegfried, when one of the other miners at the entrance to the mine shaft called his name in German, which I understood perfectly - and I do not speak or understand that language. The other miner asked Siegfried to follow him. He headed towards an old shed, somewhat larger than all the others in this apparent main street of the village. I followed them both inside, where oil lamps were burning and men sat at tables.

Siegfried joined a group of them. They shouted something at a brute wearing a dirty apron and, shortly afterwards, he brought them a bottle and some pewter goblets.

Another scene was superimposed on this one. It seemed that it was several hours later. The shed was the same, but now, Siegfried was staggering out, visibly drunk. He headed towards a row of smaller sheds, all of which had chimneys from which blackish smoke curled. Brusquely, he opened the door of one of them and entered, with me hot on his heels.

Eight children, progressing in ages from one year upwards, each twelve months apart, sat at a table plunging their spoons into bowls full of unappetising looking gruel. They all lifted their heads at the sudden appearance of their father, watching him with fearful eyes. A woman, medium in size but strong looking, with hair of a dirty blonde colour, addressed him aggressively: ‘Where have you been and where is the money? You know very well that the children haven’t had beans in a fortnight, and, yet again, you’re drunk!’

She rose and approached Siegfried. As she raised her hand to slap his face, he grabbed her arm and, with his left fist, punched her so hard that she was sent flying backwards.

She fell to the floor, hitting the back of her neck on the chimney hearth as she did so, and was killed instantly.

The children were crying and screaming. Siegfried leaned over his wife whose wide open eyes stared lifelessly into his.

‘Freda, Freda, come on, get up,’ he cried, his voice filled with anguish. He took her in his arms to help her, but she couldn’t stand. Suddenly, as she continued to stare fixedly, he realised she was dead. Sobered now, he rushed towards the door and fled into the night, running on and on, as if he had lost his mind.

Again the scene changed and Siegfried appeared, firmly bound between two guards, one of whom was putting a hood over Siegfried’s head. The executioner also wore one with holes cut in it for his eyes. He was a huge man and held within his enormous hand the handle of a wide blade axe. The guard made Siegfried kneel, bending forward so that his head rested on the execution block. Now the executioner came forward and assumed his position. A priest hastily recited prayers as the executioner slowly raised his axe over his head. Quite suddenly, he let it fall on the neck of Siegfried. The victim’s head rolled across the ground, causing the crowd to recoil several steps.

I had just witnessed the violent death of one of my many physical bodies...

The sensation was so strange. Until the moment of his death, I had been filled with a great fondness for this man, and although he had done wrong, I felt great pity for him. At the moment of his death, however, as his head rolled across the ground amid the murmurs of the crowd, I felt an overwhelming sense of relief - on his account as well as my own.

Immediately, I was presented with another scene. Before me was a lake, its shining blue waters reflecting the rays of two suns which hung quite low on the horizon.

A small boat, richly yet delicately decorated with sculptures and paintings, proceeded across the lake. It was guided by men, of medium size and reddish complexion, using long poles which they plunged into the water. Beneath a type of canopy and seated on an ornately decorated throne, was a lovely young woman with golden skin. Her oval shaped face was lit up by pretty almond eyes and long blonde hair that fell to her waist.

She was relaxed and smiling as the young company, which hovered around her, entertained her light-heartedly. I knew instantly that this pretty creature was myself in another life.

The boat proceeded steadily towards a landing pier, from which led a wide pathway bordered by tiny flowering shrubs. This path disappeared among trees that surrounded what appeared to be a palace, with roofs at various levels and of various colours.

With a change of scene, I was transported inside the palace to find myself in a lavishly decorated room.

One wall opened up on to a garden - a very orderly miniature garden of astonishing variety and colour.

Servants with reddish skin, dressed in bright green loincloths, busied themselves with serving one hundred or so guests. These ‘guests’ were of both sexes and all richly dressed. They had the same type of light golden skin colour as the woman on the boat. In contrast to the complexions of the servants, these people had skins of the colour that blonde women on Earth can attain after numerous sun-tanning sessions.

The pretty young woman from the boat, sat, in what appeared to be the place of honour, in a high-backed seat. Music, soft and enchanting, could be heard and seemed to emanate from the far end of the room as well as from the garden.

One of the servants opened a large door to admit a tall young man - perhaps 190 centimetres in height and of similar golden complexion. His bearing was proud and his build athletic.

Copper blond hair framed a face of regular features. He advanced with a purposeful stride towards the young woman and bowed before her. Whispering something to him, she gestured to the servants who brought forward an armchair similar to her own and placed it beside hers. The young man sat down and the woman gave him her hand, which he held in his.

Suddenly, on a signal from her, a gong sounded several times, and silence fell. The guests turned towards the couple. In a voice loud and clear, directed towards the servants as well as the guests, the young woman spoke: ‘to all of you gathered here, I want you to know that I have chosen a companion. This is he, Xinolini, and he will have, from this moment and according to my agreement, all the royal rights and privileges, after me. Indeed, he will be the second power in the kingdom, after myself, the Queen and the head. Any subject disobeying him or doing wrong by him in any way will answer to me. The first child that I bear Xinolini, whether male or female, will be my successor. I, Labinola, Queen of the land, have decided this.’

She signalled again, and the sound of the gong indicated the end of her speech. One by one, the guests bowed low before Labinola, kissing first her feet and then Xinolini’s in gestures of subservience.

This scene disappeared in a blur to be replaced by another, in the same palace but another room, where the royal family sat in thrones. Here, Labinola was administering justice. All sorts of people paraded before the Queen and she listened attentively to them all.

An extraordinary thing happened. I found I was able to enter into her body. It’s quite difficult to explain, but for a considerable time, while I listened and watched, I was Labinola.

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