The Emissary (3 page)

While the determined still scrambled to haul buckets of seawater from the receding tide, a few stopped dead in their tracks, looking up … becoming aware that they were now almost shrouded in an eerie, fog-like haze. It was oddly unnatural, as if low clouds had been scooped up in a gigantic atmospheric vacuum cleaner and then released, adhering to what appeared to be some sort of man-made, perfectly perpendicular matrix. There was a palpable electrical charge to the air so intense that many of the volunteers could feel their hair literally standing on end, and, after a short time, they began suffering from debilitating headaches, nausea, and difficulty breathing. Most of them were well aware that whatever was causing the acute physical symptoms and the stranding and deaths of the whales and dolphins was sourced in that strange electrical grid that hovered, low and menacing, overhead.

No one knew what in the world could be causing it, but they did know, without question, that something highly abnormal had most definitely taken place on that isolated beach off the Southern Coast.

While all three of these bizarre, seemingly unconnected events were unfolding, only a few hours apart at different locations across the planet, from the icy fields of a remote top-security military station in Alaska, a covert network of complex antennae, covering ten city blocks, emitted destructive, extremely low frequency (ELF) energy waves around the Earth, across the oceans, and out
into the atmosphere. Free from any kind of scrutiny, the facility buzzed with the sizzling sounds of high-voltage bolts of electrical lightning that shot like crackling whips from tower to tower, surging with enough electrical energy to light up the entire West Coast of the North American continent.

What no one was ready to hear, much less talk about, was that these same ELF energy waves were also being beamed into the cloud layers, and then bounced back down at the secret government’s military targets of choice—all around the globe: anywhere and everywhere their evil little hearts desired. Anyone paying the least bit of attention would have recognized that these events—the blackbirds in Los Angeles, the fish carnage in Maine, and the whale and dolphin beaching in New Zealand—were indeed connected, and that the emergency on Planet Earth was about to explode in an all-out and, perhaps, irreversible global disaster.

Unbeknownst to most of its dormant and otherwise distracted inhabitants, one beautiful tiny blue sphere, spinning through the dark cloak of galactic space, was clearly under siege.

Among the rescue workers on the beach that terrifying day in New Zealand was a woman whose life was dramatically affected by the unfathomable death of the whales and dolphins. For Jamie Hastings, it was a mystery that would chart the course of the rest of her days, seeking an answer she might never find. Those long hours of their struggle would forever be inscribed on her heart and soul, like a nightmare that haunts from the deep and murky waters of the subconscious—repeating and repeating—until finally it leaves its imprint on the conscious mind with a fierceness so great it can never again be released back into the shadows … nor forgotten.

Immortalized in her memory forever would remain the moment she sat eye to eye with a dying giant and, there, up so close, she was able to gaze into the whale’s very soul. What an ironic twist of fate that such an extraordinary opportunity—coming face to face with a great whale—should manifest in so cruel a circumstance.

So immense was the love and compassion pouring out of her, she felt as if she had completely merged with the being, and she knew the whale felt it. It was love that flowed from a place so deep within, in one sense, and from so far beyond in another that, for that moment, she was ready to leave with her, to swim alongside the pod as one of them, and journey with her ancient family—through the veils—to another world.

Experiencing the immensity of that love and the longing to leave with them was the most transcendental experience of her entire life. She and the great whale were in the flow of infinite love, from Source: a love like nothing she had ever known before; a love she doubted she could ever know again. In that moment of blissful union, soul-to-soul, she no longer knew where the whale ended and she began—where that point of separation could be defined, on any level.

The swollen female Humpback was so pregnant—she seemed just hours away from delivering her calf. Sadly, this helpless mother would never live to know that ecstatic moment of birthing her infant, or teaching her baby the joy of swimming in the open sea with her: weaving the music of the waters, nestled in the safety of their pod. There would be no song, no light from the sun for these transiting souls as they passed from life, entwined and connected forever … at least not until they reached the other side. Here, in this massive grave with their kin, shrouded in this strange electric cloud, there was only sadness and suffering: a time of farewells; a time of silenced songs that might have been.

Jamie peered deeply into the mother’s eyes, asking permission to connect with her baby: to touch her soul. With that, the whale let fall a tear. It dropped to the sand and dissolved into fading traces of ocean foam, while for Jamie, that one tear was so deep she felt she could drown within it—immense as the greatest ocean, and timeless as the waves.

The mighty whale looked back into Jamie’s eyes with that same sense of knowing, and a light sparked between them—a flicker of recognition between two ancient souls—and then, the gentle giant, a mother-to-be who never would, blew the last precious bit of air out her blowhole.

She and her unborn baby died in that instant—within that last breath, with Jamie’s love around them.

As unbearable as it was to cope with the immensity of emotions surging within her, Jamie saw the others through their pain and the dying, until the suffering ended, at last, and every soul had made its passage. They deserved at least that. She knew how to hold the light for the dying, assisting in their transition to another plane, where they would be free to swim in clear, sacred waters once again. It was the pure essence of her shamanic work, conducting souls through the transition from physical reality back to spirit, and she considered herself blessed to have been of service to such noble beings in their hour of going.

After all the teams of exhausted volunteers packed up and went home, and the sunless sky turned cold and gloomier still in the blackness of that senseless night, Jamie stayed, a grieving guardian in the darkness, alone but for the graveyard of dead corpses lined up on the shore. Morning would bring crews of cleanup teams, with all the necessary equipment. Theirs would be the horrific, utterly unthinkable job of disposing of the bodies, to protect against the obvious threat to public health, and to assure that the beach could be reopened for their summer tourist season—in full swing. But, for that sacred moment, hers was the only human presence there, and she stayed through until dawn, knowing how very profound it was to her and to the transitioning souls of one hundred fifty whales and dolphins, who, for some mysterious reason, had chosen to die.

Hopefully, thought Jamie, as the great beings crossed over to the other side, they would remember that someone—some human being—had known and cared enough to stay through the night, to see them across the rainbow bridge.

In that difficult time of great sadness and loss, Jamie felt each laborious breath of every whale and dolphin strip her of her own life force—a psychic pain so intense she could barely breathe. For a fleeting moment, she was able to escape the sadness, focusing her
eye within the spirit realm, where she could see them swimming out of the tunnel of darkness and into the brilliance of illuminated waters. They were on their way, back out to the cosmic sea, where they would be free again. That was her consolation.

She knew her lifework had changed forever that day. She was being called to use her gift to help prevent a tragedy such as this from ever happening again. And she knew, without question, that the whales and dolphins would reach out to her again, from the other side of night … and she would be there.

By the love of god, she would be there … forever.

According to her mother’s many stories, Jamie Hastings was born with her eyes wide open—right through the sacred birth canal and into the world. Herself a psychic of noteworthy ability, Amanda Hastings often talked about how Jamie spoke to her before she was conceived, announcing, in a dream, that she was coming, and to “get ready” for a remarkable reunion. Amanda loved to tell the story of how her daughter came through her, in a nearly painless birth process, with the amniotic sac still fully intact.

When the midwife cut her out of the caul, her very first sound was not the usual cry of a newborn at the slap of the doctor but, rather, baby laughter. That was why her mother used to call Jamie her “Buddha baby,” and it was a name that stuck throughout her life. And that is how she knew Jamie would always be protected, surrounded in her love, no matter what life would throw at her—from either side of the veil.

Suffice to say that any kid with an entry into the world like that was born to be an interesting soul, at the very least, from the onset.

From the early days of her childhood, Jamie exhibited exceptional abilities that her mother noted and encouraged, without
reservation. There were none of the distractions of the day back then: no computers, electronic games, cell phones, and other gadgets that have hijacked the minds of computer-age children, and programmed them not to see beyond the illusions of their electronic devices. Children of her time were creators … freethinkers … and the pictures they drew came from their vivid imaginations, not copied and pasted from computer screens.

Jamie had real vision. She was connected from birth with the spirit world, and she spent time with beings and teachers from other realms: light beings from other dimensions. She would spend hours on end alone, in her room, rather than playing with the other children in the neighborhood, as she never exhibited an affinity for playing make-believe, when her own experience was so real.

Occasionally, she would burst out of her bedroom to report some extraordinary new revelation that spoke with such intricacy and knowledge that Amanda knew it could be only of worlds other than theirs, even if she herself could not conceptualize what her little daughter could see so clearly. Sometimes, she grew concerned that the child was becoming too attached to the spirit world, and that she was disconnecting from the earthly realm altogether. Jamie always knew when her mother was becoming worried about those times. She would sit Amanda down and explain, patiently, that she had to spend time with the faeries, and the spirits, or they would disappear. It made sense to both of them, and only them, so they managed to keep it their carefully guarded secret, and no one, not even her father, was in on it.

At the young age of four, she began drawing articulate, complex pictures of other galaxies and star systems, through which she constantly tried to explain her own galactic voyages in other lifetimes. It became almost a fixation. As she grew older, these visions became more frequent, rather than fading away, and Jamie would recount vivid memories and quite elaborate descriptions of herself living in
and being from another galaxy, which she always described as being “parallel” to the Milky Way.

So precise were the images and information her daughter brought through that Amanda was quite convinced they were sourced in some other dimension, in which Jamie was somehow consciously involved and to which she was still very clearly connected. She had plenty of reason to believe that her daughter’s encounters with the spirit world and her memory of other lifetimes were more than mere fantasies of childhood, and that they were actual perceptions of a parallel lifetime in some extraordinary simultaneous reality.

Her daughter appeared to walk in and between two worlds. Amanda dreamed of knowing that other world, too, but she didn’t have Jamie’s same gifts. Her visions of what lay beyond were mostly gleaned through her daughter’s precise descriptions, and an ongoing narrative of Jamie’s passage through a “space tunnel” into her womb.

She knew, without a doubt, that her baby was a soul that had reincarnated from a very distant world. Amanda believed in immortality, so it was not a far stretch for her to consider how very ancient a soul she was, nor how far she had come to live her life, this time around, as her beloved daughter.

As the years passed, the two of them, mother and child, held this magical secret private, far from the skeptical “doubting Thomases,” who could never have understood what perceptions are truly accessible to certain human beings—nor would they have been willing to even consider the possibilities. Then again, back in the sixties, the realms of the invisible were far less approachable than they are now, at a time when an undeniable global awakening is stirring people out of their convictions, and opening minds.

The Buddha baby was just a little ahead of her time.

Amanda was careful to protect her daughter, as best she could, allowing her all the space she needed to investigate her parallel
worlds and interact with them, without the censorship of a society in denial, attempting to shut her down to those experiences.