Chapter 131

131
PARANEHO PRIMOS NORTE, THE RANCH, EASTERN VIRGINIA

The days at Paraneho Primos Norte passed into a glorious routine. Not much new and exciting happened, and the absence of dramatic events grew to be a sweet drink to be savored by the Robeles and Gemarro families. Juan wrecked his third HumVee in a steep ditch long before he temporarily abandoned his dream of learning to drive. He had even arranged for a Driver's Manual written in Portuguese which he had been nervously studying. Everyone, especially Nicole was grateful and relieved when the young Brazilian became enthralled with horse riding, an undertaking for which he was far more adept.

He raced himself or some off duty Marine at every opportunity, thundering nearly naked across the wide open spaces. Both he and Jesus had finally laid aside their now famous Brazilian fatigues in favor of essentially the fashion of their childhood, shorts and sandals. Neither had received a haircut since the fiasco at Hernando's. Jesus' fatigues were held in reserve only for the weekly trips into Washington for the news conference. There were still ten to fifteen thousand reporters waiting for their chance every week in the lottery pool.

The military affairs staff, what was left of it after its ranks were reduced by marriage, had dutifully selected a second lieutenant from their own company, a young man named Lt. Escharrio who seemed to be a reasonable and good natured sort. His arrival had introduced a modest discipline in the lives of the four remaining, although all the duties of the office were usually completed by 9 AM. The lieutenant wasn't comfortable fraternizing with Jesus and His party, so he spent most of his days in the library of the new recreation center studying for his law school entrance examinations.

Escharrio did make an exception to attend an informal coffee with the now legendary Victor Santos during one of the counsel's rare visits. The Brazilian attorney had come to attend the opening of the new facilities.

The construction was completed ahead of schedule. The entire "hospitality" facility was a work of architectural excellence which had attracted world-wide attention. Santos had contracted a very famous Italian design firm, and the result was truly remarkable. The gigantic free standing dome over the swimming pool accented the spires of condominiums up the hill which served as quarters for Marines and Secret Service personnel. The whole affair looked more like a fantastic sculpture than living quarters. Each of the units enjoyed a private balcony.

The sole agricultural success of the ranch was the chickens. Brenda had insisted on having chickens, and what had begun as a modest flock had mushroomed into a productive undertaking capable of providing fresh eggs and chicken to all the ranch's residents. The original birds had been a gift from a neighbor. The whole bunch had been quickly shipped to Langley for quarantine and poison testing.

There had been no subsidence in the number of threats arriving in the operations room.

Both Brenda and Nicole began to swell as their pregnancies progressed. Predictably, each became even more beautiful to her husband in the process, bathed in the serene glow of impending motherhood. Names were discussed. The standard joke was that the children would be "Marzilians" -- half Marine and half Brazilian. The remainder of the military affairs office, Mark, Peter, Cindy and Maggie filled in as an extended family. All of them had decided to finish their enlistment, but babies were a constant and welcome possibility.

As Brenda's identity gradually leaked to the press, it had little impact on her life on the ranch. Her parents and younger brother, however, were having trouble adjusting to the Secret Service contingent around their home in Texas. They moved into a spacious condo at the "Hospitality" facility for relief. Soon Nicole's mother joined them. Jesus and Juan considered them all to be treasures, much more grandparents and uncles than in-laws.

General Tower, however, may have changed the most. He began to appear out of uniform more frequently although he maintained an even more rigid security around the property. The ranch was an electronic quagmire for any infiltrator. The General even encouraged some of the Marines to ride as guard sentries on horse back. The Secret Service agents envied this. The discovery of the month came when a supply officer happened upon regulation Marine uniforms, long since fallen into disuse, which were designed for horse mounted duty. General Tower joked that the men looked like they were reporting to 'Black Jack' Pershing.

He rode horses with Juan, and taught everyone who was interested how to fly fish. Everyone was interested including the mothers to be. He was rapidly moving into a position of loving grandfatherhood and even began to take a gentlemanly interest in Nicole's mother, Beth Ramsey.

The entire group became an extended family. The ranch became a happy oasis away from the political mayhem which was raging more and more everyday through the country.

Chapter 132

132
 THE WHITE HOUSE

United States Presidents fade into a sort of patina when they have finished their time to lead. They are supported financially by the tax payers until the end of their lives as well as provided an even tempered respect which may have been elusive during their terms. They become dignified and sage elder statesmen, free to support their favorite charities and to wax philosophical amid the pages of their memoirs.

When they decline to run again, they can become renegades with respect to what they say as lame ducks, free at last of the pressure of subtleties which might have fallen great events on the turn of a single word during their time of power. Robert Haskill had joined the ranks of ignomy, the company of Lyndon Johnson, Richard Nixon and Steven Graysalt. He had joined Lyle Bancroft as a victim of the phenomenon which had risen out of the Sinai Desert. To the massive block of UCFC and FCRAP voters in the country he had become little more than a hollow and pathetic lunatic, inconsequential rubbish to be swept away to clear the path for real change.

The speech writer had shuddered while collaborating with him, but he had dutifully incorporated Haskill's ideas into a ten minute national address. Van Sythe, now another tormentor in President Haskill's paranoia had requested a copy but was curtly denied. The President's aides had formed a water tight blockade around the Oval Office which would remain until January. It was a fortress of vast power but little importance. The drama of the democracy was unfolding in the election districts across the land, not in the White House.

The low state of President Robert Haskill's fortunes was reflected in the bored eyes of the cameraman and the prompters in the television studio beneath the White House. The crowning indignity was realized when a teen aged page ambled toward the podium spinning the Seal of the President between his index fingers. It was, appropriately, a plastic affair which attached the the face of the lectern with velcro.

"My fellow Americans. During the first term of the Haskill Administration we have, together as a nation, faced great challenges. We have fought and won many wars which were made necessary by our national interests. We have prevailed in Algeria and Tunisia, Peru, Bottria and others. We have used the force of the American military to sustain peace without war in other places, in Brazil and Bangladesh. Our naval and air forces carry forward with the blockades of Cuba and the State of the Solomon Islands, and we will prevail there also if we are steadfast. This administration has looked to the defense of this nation with great care. We have maintained a strong military force which is both well prepared and highly ready to keep our nation safe".

"Yet, today we face a new challenge. Since the discovery of the 'Tomb in the Desert' made its first impact on our country six administrations ago, a silent undermining of our way of life has slowly crept into our most sacred institutions. By that I do not mean our churches. I mean our politics. It seems that what the enemies of our country could never have done with force of arms, they have accomplished with fairy tales and superstition."

"After having accepted our rather substantial hospitality, the author of this confusion has gone on to foment rioting and unrest, and finally the destruction of our democracy. The very democracy which offered Him refuge when all others turned away."

"I wish to publicly apologize for allowing this breach of security to have occurred. To you, the American people, I accept responsibility for having allowed the defenses of our country to have been penetrated. I am, at this moment rectifying my mistake."

"I have ordered, through the Commandant of the Marine Corps, General Veemer, that the Marine detachment which currently guards the residence of Jesus Robeles place Him under house arrest. I have informed Mr. Robeles that His time to create havoc and unrest in the United States has come to an end. He and His party are to depart from the United States within the next seventy-two hours or they will be jailed as illegal aliens. Until that time His personal safety will be under my direct responsibility."

"I have further ordered active combat elements of the 104th Army Division from Fort Patrick in Virginia to move immediately to the area. When they arrive they will disarm and relieve the Marine command presently stationed there. This is to assure that all military forces at that location will obey direct orders originating from my office. I am relieving General Justus Tower of all command duties as of this time."

"Full responsibility for the safety and order of Mr. Robeles, His wife and all others who choose to associate themselves with Him will be borne by the 104th Division under my direct command. During the time that He remains in the United States, I am imposing a full communications blackout on Him, His party and His sympathizers in and out of the military."

"I regret that such an action as this will mark the last days of my Presidency. I will take this opportunity to announce that I am not a candidate for reelection. I ask those among you who have remained loyal supporters of my candidacy to give your votes to Martha Stratton of the UCFC Party. She is apparently the best we can do. Thank you and good night."

Chapter 133

133
 PARANEHO PRIMOS NORTE, THE RANCH, EASTERN VIRGINIA

General Tower was in his quarters when he saw the President's address right after the news. A quick cell phone call the the main house produced PFC. Mark Stentson. "Where is Jesus?" he asked.

"They are all down by the river having a picnic. I saw President Haskill's speech. What are our orders, Sir?" Stentson asked.

"I want you to go get all of them and keep everyone in the main house. I have been relieved of command, but we're going to wait to see what develops." The General was already calling his field commanders to an urgent meeting at the main gate.

The news had started to spread by the time the General arrived. Everyone snapped to attention when he appeared.

"The Commander in Chief has ordered us to hand our weapons over to the Army. Further, all of you probably know by now that he has relieved me of command." Standing to face all them at once, he continued. "I am currently planning to remain at my post which is at the side of Jesus Robeles in the main house or wherever He may be. I am curious as to whether any of the Marines in this unit are inclined to join me in this action. I will warn you all that it will amount to desertion and disobeying orders -- in this case orders from the Commander in Chief. Orders which he deemed fit to broadcast to us via commercial television. I personally had always hoped to be fired in person, at least."

The Marines began to murmur which the General both expected and tolerated. There was some debate, but not much. Finally the ranking Marine, a Captain stepped forward as a spokesman. "We are with you. We all think, however, that every officer and enlisted man has to make this decision for himself. This is a serious move to make, and every one should decide freely and independently."

"I agree completely, but we need to complete this and send those who wish to leave on their way quickly. Things are going to get interesting here pretty damned quick." Tower spoke with the absolute calm of a seasoned combat officer. "Canvass the men who are deployed. Anyone who's leaving should be out of here within half an hour. I will canvass the Hospitality facility."

Marines wake up easy at any hour, but they don't necessarily get dressed unless there's a reason. News of the President's speech had reached many of the men and women who were off duty. They had largely already started the same discussion which had occurred at the main gate. By the time the General addressed them in the dining hall, most had already made decisions one way or the other. It was a meeting filled with young men in boxers and young women in robes. "By now, most of you know what is happening. Many of the people on field duty right now have elected to stay. I want everyone here to make this same important decision for himself or herself. I'll warn you that there will be hell to pay, but you all know that already. Remember, sooner or later we will have to tell the Army that we're not going to give them our weapons. Elect a spokesperson and tell me what you have decided. I want to add that I will not respect anyone less for leaving. I know that I am asking you to disobey orders from the Commander in Chief. Don't make your decisions lightly."

The General heard one debate as he excused himself to await the results. A young Marine private was telling his sergeant, "President Haskill never did anything to get my family off food stamps. Hell, we couldn't even live near each other, much less in decent housing! I've got a baby girl for Christ's sake!"

"Well, I guess that's a pretty good reason to get out. I won't blame you." the sergeant answered.

"Get out, hell! Those are all reasons to stay, and I don't have to ask my wife, either. I can vouch for her. She can shoot a rifle just as well as I can!" the private retorted. "She can and she will! We know Who are friends are, and it damned sure ain't that weasel in the White House. Who could call what he's doing honoring the country? He's breaking his word and making us do the dirty work!"

This snatch of conversation was going on all through the room in the General's absence. Tower's cell phone rang. It was Jesus.

"Good evening, General Tower." Jesus spoke with an almost serene calmness. "Do I still call you 'General'?"

"I think it probably is time for first names, Jesus, but right now we had better stick to General. For a deserter, I'm working pretty hard to earn my pay right about now." Tower chuckled.

"Good! Good! Your spirits are high. I am actually pretty excited about all this Myself. I was able to call Mr. Santos before they scrambled My cell phone. He said that he would do what he could." Jesus answered. "By the way, what are We doing? Is there anything I can help with?"

"You can help the most by staying in the main house. I would like for you to get Brenda and Nicole to an interior room, just in case..." Tower proposed. "The 104th isn't going to arrive until the middle of the night, so things ought to be calm until then. I have to take a look at what we have left after everyone who wants to go is out of here. I'll send word to You when I have anything to report."

Back at the main gate, now lit only by night vision lights, the sentries had donned flak jackets and had blacked their faces. The Captain approached from the brush at one side. "Is that you, Sir?"

"Yes, it's me. It looks like you've gone to alert status. Tell me about troop strength." the General spoke in a low voice.

"I just put thirty-eight men and dependents on two trucks and sent them out. That leaves two hundred eleven officers and enlisted. I have deployed all the active field units and put everyone off duty on stand-by. We have plenty of ammo, and we're dug in very well. In fact we've been running exercises on tactical fortification. Let's hope it won't come to testing how well they learned." The captain reported. "Oh, yes. Sir, we actually have intelligence if you can believe that. One of our Marines has a girlfriend at Fort Patrick. He went by horseback cross country to the gas station over in Eppitsville and called her. We're up against five thousand troops. She saw three armored personnel carriers, but get this. They are bringing two one seventy-five Howitzers, probably the only ones they had after Haskill cut the budget. Nonetheless, those could be a problem."

"I don't want those Howitzers pointing at me, captain. At least not if they are serviceable. If they won't fire, then it probably wouldn't bother me so much. Understand?" General Tower was in his depth.

"Understood, Sir. One last thing. The man who rode to Eppitsville said there were crowds gathering. He thought they were UCFC. Anyway, they are coming here."

"It will be interesting to see if Haskill has any more problem violating the constitutional rights of thousands than he does just a handful, not to mention his oath of office. One way or the other, they're bound to slow down the 104th." Tower turned to walk back up the road. "I'll be in the main house. With those field pieces around, I think we'd better blackout everything at the main generators. Set up relay runners to get word to me about what's happening. They're jamming everything including cell phones. While it's quiet I want a report every twenty minutes -- three times an hour. Got it?"

"Yes, sir. Why don't you take this horse? You'll make better time." The captain offered.

General Justus Tower found himself on horseback riding to his command post. His thoughts roamed back to a day in the Watergate when Jesus was preparing for His first news conference. He stood in the most unusual, yet entirely comfortable, way with His shirt off and His hair down to His waist and a parrot on His head ready to meet the press barefoot. Was it any stranger than a Marine General deserter riding a white mare through the pitch black night to prepare for a battle? Everything, even himself, seemed different. Everything, even himself was different.

Affairs in the house were completely in order with the exception that the Secret Service had evaporated, save Agent Barnes. He stayed loyal and close to his Friend, Jesus, with a machine pistol under his jacket. Peter Vasquez had barbecued steaks and corn on the cob over a little charcoal fire far away from the now totally dark house. It was a precaution against infrared targeting. The meal was delicious. Jesus and Juan went to bed early with their fat wives, apparently not worried about anything. Mark Stentson and Cindy Bennet smooched quietly in the corner, but remained ready to be runners for the General if necessary. Corporal Peter Vasquez and the love of his life, Maggie Stone, moved a few things that could stop a bullet or deter a charge into position in strategic places.

General Tower received reports of no action from the lead elements of the remaining Marines until about midnight. That news was not about the 104th, still bumping along in convoy from the other side of the state, but rather about UCFC civilians who were pitching tents, singing and praying. They had effectively blocked the road for a few miles, and were now moving into the open fields of Jesus' neighbors. In contrast to the utter darkness of the ranch, these people had brought torches and gas pressure lanterns which lit up the whole area. Jesus' neighbors had brought water wagons and generators to join the vigil. One of them had a respectable sized herd of cattle he intended to place in front of the 'aggressors' as they were now being called.

The relay runner at four twenty AM caught the General napping. For about five seconds. The first elements of the 104th Army Division were bullying their way through the civilians, and the cattle, in troop trucks. It was a few minutes before dawn when the General's horse rode in plain sight to the main gate. A very nervous Army Colonel stood judiciously outside the line to meet him.

As he approached the officer, a young Marine who had been totally concealed a moment before, snapped a salute. "A moment, Sir?"

Tower waved casually to the Army officer, "Just a minute, Colonel." Then he turned to the Marine, still at attention. "What is it?"

The Marine, fully camouflaged seem perplexed for a moment, then answered in a very quiet voice, "It's a secret, Sir." Tower was beyond being irritated by irregularities. He leaned over so that the Marine might whisper in his ear. "Their Howitzers are broken real bad, Sir."

Tower laughed. "That's too bad isn't it? Well, thank you very much for that report. Return to your station." The Marine was invisible before he finished his sentence.

"General Justus Tower, I am ordered to place you under arrest for desertion and disobeying orders. I am ordered to do this by President Robert Haskill, Commander in Chief, Armed Forces of the United States. Will you accompany me?" the Colonel blurted out. These words had filled his thoughts all night as he traveled with his army across Virginia. Having said them, he breathed a visible sigh of relief.

"I decline to accompany you, sir. I am advising you to avoid any incursion into my position on any perimeter. It is defended by Marines under my command. They are armed and they are prepared to repel all attempts to enter. They will fire live rounds as a warning for fifteen seconds after which they will employ lethal force." General Tower informed the man. After saying this he turned to walk back to his horse. Behind him he heard the unmistakable sound of a forty-five automatic being pulled from a holster. He stopped, but only for a second. The distinctive sound of a dozen invisible assault rifles chambering shells answered the first noise with a sobering yet invisible chorus. He turned, speaking into the brush, "Disarm that man and take him into custody. He is not to be harmed. Place him in one of the hand ball courts and padlock it."

It was the Army's last foolish mistake. At first light they began trying to move the civilians out of the way with mixed success. Still, they were digging in. They had not assumed that the Marines would be ready for a fight without at least a little talk. Now that their field commander was a prisoner of the General and his renegade forces, they started getting smarter rapidly.

At around nine in the morning, the runner came with breathless news. Barely hesitating to snap to prior to reporting, he could barely get his breath. He had run from the field operations center. "Sir!"

After the General nodded, he began his report, "Sir, we've got Cobras on tactical radar! Two of 'em, Sir!"

"Those would be replacements for the broken Howitzers, I assume." General Tower mused.

The Marine spoke again, "No, Sir! They are landing here! In fact, they are landing right over there!" he said pointing to the clearing beyond the barn.

"Well, who in the hell is this going to be?" General Tower asked himself out loud as he made his way to the helicopters. Then he recognized a figure emerging from the nearer of the two. "Good morning, General Veemer."

The pair walked without speaking to the bench at the front door to the main house. "I assume you are here to issue an order." Tower said softly.

"Actually, I just thought maybe you might need a little extra firepower. There are a lot of soldiers out there." Veemer joked.

"I know. I've captured their commanding officer. He's been making one threat after another, but I think we're beyond being threatened." General Tower looked at his friend. "Did Haskill send you?"

"Not exactly. I was making myself scarce in Washington when a certain Mr. Tom Hanneman contacted me." General Veemer began.

"That guy is bad news, Vilnius." interrupted Tower.

"Well, maybe he used to be, but now he's working for an attorney, Victor Santos. Does that name sound familiar?" Veemer asked.

"Yes. I know who Victor Santos is. He represents Jesus Robeles." General Tower answered with a smile of relief. "Is the cavalry coming?"

"Well maybe. Here's the plan. You'll like this one, Justus." Veemer settled in a little. "As of this moment you are still under direct orders to hold your position here. No one with authority has relieved you, no one in the chain of command. Yes, the President is in the Chain of Command, but a television show isn't. That's why they were turning D.C. upside down trying to find me. The Joint Chiefs are long gone to locations unknown like the scared little rabbits they are. I'm the last voice that can carry orders to you. But they couldn't find me, either."

"So how does that help matters here?" General Tower asked glumly.

"It doesn't particularly, but it sure helps things in Washington. As of this minute Haskill has ordered U.S. Army troops into combat with U.S. Marines, both sides holding direct orders from him. That is about half a dozen impeachable offenses, starting with destroying government property and ending with abetting an insurrection or something like that." Veemer explained.

"Impeachment hearings in Washington aren't going to help much out here. This thing is going to break at any minute." Tower complained.

"That depends on how long it takes to impeach him. Let me tell you, with Hanneman's help Robeles' lawyer has Congress terrified, mostly blackmailed but who cares? They will override all of this by mid-morning, stand down the 104th and impeach him by noon! Let's go talk to your prisoner and see if we can squeeze a little time out of him. It wouldn't do for us to embarrass that big bunch of Army guys, you know." Veemer laughed.

Corporal Vasquez and Corporal Maggie Stone, taking their shift as runners for the General, tagged along out of voice range. Interestingly, the sky was remaining clear and blue.

At the main gate, the number of civilians arriving had boosted their numbers into a great rolling crowd, completely surrounding the Army units deployed around the road. News reports, which were unavailable anywhere on the ranch, placed the crowd at one half million and growing by ten o'clock in the morning.

At ten thirty a single jet helicopter landed as close to the gate as possible. A figure clad in purest white emerged. Martha Stratton, Oracle of the UCFC stood up on a truck as the chopper lifted off again. The helicopter rose higher and higher until almost none of its sound reached the ground. A long cable lowered a public address system to broadcast the Oracle's words from her microphone. The sound was remarkably good.

She opened her arms so all could see her, then she spoke, "I am Martha Stratton, Oracle of the UCFC and the next President of the United States. I am here to beg everyone on both sides of this to hold your fire. To the Marines inside the perimeter of the ranch. Stay at your posts. I will personally pardon every one of you as the first act of my Presidency. Protect the Savior Reincarnate. I vow to make right whatever harm you may suffer. To the Army units of the 104th Division. I urge you to hold your fire no matter what. For you I also vow to make right whatever harm you suffer. Disengage yourselves. Pull back away from each other and stand down. Let us pray. Heavenly Father may all of us find ourselves now so that we might find peace within ourselves and have no blood shed here today. Amen."

The thunderous amen of the faithful gathered behind her was almost as a cool breeze to the heat of the moment. The Army commander ordered his troops to withdraw two hundred yards, but remain ready. It was impossible to see what the Marines did since they were largely invisible.

Meanwhile at the main house, Brenda and Nicole, were preparing a hearty breakfast in the kitchen. Mark Stentson and Cindy were asleep in a pile of arms and legs on the couch. They had been the last shift of runners after being up all night, but they would wake up for breakfast with Juan, Jesus and the girls. Juan was in the shower and Jesus was on the patio outside His and Brenda's bedroom.

Lt. Eschario walked through the main house as was his habit. He was very security conscious. Brenda called to him, asking if he would join them for breakfast. He declined, instead walking forcefully outside and inspecting something or other. Sighting Jesus sitting in the sun he made his way along the side of the house.

Jesus seemed to be speaking to Himself. "It's time?"

Eschario drew up his forty-five automatic as he said, "This has gone on long enough."

Jesus replied, "I'm ready. I forgive you." as four shots rang out. Two passed through Jesus' left lung, one through His liver and the last one through His heart. He closed His eyes and slumped to the ground.

He had important work to do.

Chapter 134

134
THE EARTH

As the life's blood of Jesus Robeles, the Holy Messenger to the people of earth, ebbed to an end, the following psionic message was heard or felt in the mind of every living human being. Having been transmitted by thought alone, the language was unimportant. For those who survived Him, it seemed to be a long message. It also seemed to be a completely personal message. In fact many people claimed that He had told them something different from what had been heard by their fellows. The only issue of complete agreement was that absolutely everyone had received His final words and had been deeply moved by them.

Last time the written accounts about My life caused tremendous mischief and suffering. Some of those words fortunate enough to have survived both history and religion led to good when people directed their own thoughts and lives with them. These people had the benefit of using them for a direction to channel their life energy to good purpose and personal satisfaction. Other words attributed to Me led to great evil when people used them to direct the thoughts and lives of others. I declare that on no account will this happen with My present ministry.

I bring this message to all the people of the world. It is my message, but it is also a message from the Creator of All This Universe. Each of you will hear it and understand it. None of you will ever be able to write it down because these are ideas, not words. Your memory and your resolve will falter if you attempt to remember it in order to discuss it or argue about it with one another. The message is my personal message to each of you. As people in this world, you each deserve to share My intimate and personal understanding of your own lives and of human life on the earth. You who are a tiny child will also hear. You who are an unborn baby like My own son will hear, as well. You will remember and understand when you become able. All will be truly equal in this moment.

And if you are sorrowful about future generations not hearing Me in this way, accept the challenge and responsibility of showing them these ideas in the strength and purity of your actions, in the progress you make with yourselves in your own lives. What you hear today is a message for all people for all time. Think of yourselves as earnest and sincere messengers to those yet to come.

The Creator holds a great value on this world. The Creator cares deeply about what your lives have become, about what the world has become. The Creator is dissatisfied with the fear and the bondage you seem to choose to experience in your mortal lives. I send you this message as my mortal existence is ending. When it has been completed, I will have departed from you to be with The Light of the First Principle of My Existence. This is a time for rejoicing not sadness. You have forgotten yourselves, your own human legacy. In each of you is the incredible greatness of Your Maker. In each of you is the vast potential held in the indescribable joy and energy of human life. I am dying for the second time in my memory as I speak. I promise you that death is different from life, and I admonish you to remember always that you know neither the day nor the hour of your own certain death. I offer only one commandment. Do not waste a single breath of life. Live each moment you are given to the fullest. In this way make mankind and this world of life all you can make it. Remember that you decide these things. Remember that your life energy will be spent to accomplish this. Honor Your Creation in this way. All of this was not first made so lazy foolish people could lead it to nothing. The world and the people on it have a very great destiny, and they have a spiritual responsibility, for their own sake, to create this destiny first in their own lives, then together as humanity joined in happiness not yet seen here.

Relax. Savor your lives. Life is made to be casual, not urgent. Examine yourselves. Examine your thoughts and ambitions. Consider what is the most important thing to you at this moment. Beware of thoughts which are not your own, thoughts not freely made by your own mind. There is no hell that I know of, but I promise each of you will taste eternity. I, like each of you, will exist in it with nothing more than the memory of My life. Hell may exist here when we forsake our lives, when we live in sleep determined to make life matter for nothing. I warn you that a life without meaning is cold comfort for an eternity of contemplation.

With each life comes the unquestioned right to live it with your own thoughts, governed by your own conscience, filled with your own hope. Travel your lives with My spirit. You are in this world to live and grow, to create yourselves through your own work on yourselves. You are responsible for this. In a sense you will become what you have done. Be sincere with this opportunity. It is a glorious one! God speed.