Exit out of Darkness

Exit Out of Darkness

By S. Douglas Harvey

Copyright 2011 S. Douglas Harvey

Smashwords Edition

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Table of Contents

Chapter 1 - We Won’t Be Erased To Nowhere

Chapter 2 - A Cessation Point In A Cause

Chapter 3 - Disarming Adversaries

Chapter 4 - Is E=MC/2 True?

Chapter 5 - Getting America’s Attention

Chapter 6 - To Live Forever

Chapter 7 - An Undefinable Aspect of Power

Chapter 8 - Beyond The Margin Of The Next Idea

Chapter 9 - No Longer In Question

Chapter 10 - Mysteries Into Knowing

Chapter 11 - To Experience In Action

Chapter 12 – Shall Regin In Life

Chapter 13 – Reinvention Of Culture

Chapter 14 – To Unborn Generations

Chapter 15 – Manifesting Into Action

Chapter 16 – Impressions Trace

Chapter 17 – Reaching A Lost World

Chapter 18 – Truth To The World Through Beauty

Chapter 19 – Different Systems Of Existence

Chapter 20 – A Light At Forever

Chapter 21 – The Last Enemy That Shall Be Destroyed Is Death

Chapter 1

Like a brutal machine in the darkness falling through echelons of stars an impaired helicopter became uneven in sound, like a repeating steel echo in a vision blur through space approaching drifting clouds in the distance below as it fell toward the earth at an increasing rate of descent, achieving now about two hundred and forty feet per second in a free fall through winds and lightning as it raced downward as functionally nothing more than a hunk of useless metal, spinning toward the earth.

In near hysteria, a young woman named Christy Ann England looked up at the horrifying sight of the frozen rotors motionless in the air. Astonishingly perhaps, she started to speak in aspects like the impossible: Dizzy... I’m falling into the design... of things, from before... we must not see... the end of dreams, or the unknown destinations of thoughts. she said, soon to faint away into a most mysterious contemplation.

She was now thrown toward the round front windshield and got a glimpse of the city, below in the distance, through a rift in clouds.

The pilot looked through this same opening in the white mists from their relative area of darkness above the world to an outline of land which was a familiar configuration where his estate was located.

The defining feature was a white mansion with six pillars in front, part of a peristyle which surrounded the entire building. These pillars were four stories high and faced the twinkling sea. The windows were tall also and reflected the dark blue and cloudy evening sky, and the blue ocean breaking in white on the rocks. This made the mansion appear to have just risen up out of the ocean and perhaps to have crystallized out of the blue and white sea. There was fog also beneath the mansion, and it appeared to be sitting on a cloud, instead of a cliff hidden by the mists.

The copter seemed to aim at the cliffs thousands of feet below.

The pilot, a man named Mark Lanefield, looked at Christy Ann, a woman of considerable beauty.

He then spoke.

It's the throttle linkage, he yelled, and it is outside the cabin behind the pilot's seat.

'Here I'm falling in love with her, and will probably never get to tell her,' he thought.

She fainted and found herself in a dream state walking across a glistening glass floor, just elevated above a beautiful and silent expanse of desert in a cool night. Crystal trees filled with glittering equations lined paths of silver.

The interaction to ensue would all happen in two seconds.

A strange figure moved toward her, and spoke. You are trying to find an answer in an instant to your dilemma, so that you will not die, like getting playful with an infinity sign tottering on the second hand of the universe.

Oh I see, she said, this is where we really go when we die.

No, the figure said. This is how people who have I.Q.'s over or equal to two hundred dream, when in terror... or... when they have a question. Yes, an unresolved dilemma. You are warning yourself in a dream. Some say this place is what an I.Q. of two hundred actually looks like symbolically, but that is only 'of theory' you understand.

The figure confided that, I like rather to think of it as the 'solution plane of the universe,' because for example, the street intersections are really problem resolutions.

There will never a dull instant be, she said.

Oh, permit me to introduce myself, the figure said, gradually moving closer and presenting a human form. I'm Justin A. Systemtime. 'A system just in time.' Get it? Do you like my regimentally striped bow tie? You think I'm going to solve your problem because of my name, don't you? Actually it is you that are going to solve the problem. I'm a reflection of your subconscious mind, and I'm going to help you prevent that copter from being broken into a thousand pieces.

If it makes you feel any better you people make me sick because you can do things in your sleep that other people never even see in their lives. You will now save your paltry hides from destruction in your very sleep. You are reasoning this all out in two seconds. It is sickening. Also, you act like some kind of naughty social butterfly whose purified drinking water is not quite chilled. You have this `ask me if I give a scum’ kind of demeanor in fact I..."

As anyone ever tried to harm you by tightening your bow tie? Christy asked.

Not with my bow tie, Justin said, however once a woman ruffian slapped me in the face with my own billfold.

Why? asked Christy.

Because I was using my high brow language.

It’s like this you see. Instead of saying you won’t crash in the helicopter, I would now say you won’t be erased to nowhere, as will not much of the human race.

Why don’t you just give me the solution? Christy asked.

You mean like something along the lines of breaking the back window of the cabin in the helicopter and fixing the throttle linkage? asked Justin.

Ya… that’s like probably it, Christy said. See ya.

Now Christy, it's lonely up here, and I am glad to tell you that you will be back.. Justin said. Probability has it that we will go to the Birthplace of Creativity, in the Land of Before.

Where's that?

It's in the world that existed just before the Garden of Eden, he said. Did you know that loneliness turns people into chatterboxes?

You mean our own world? she asked.

Yes, and it was so different. There were rings around it like Saturn's These rings were blue and green and matched the oceans. The land was still the color of earth and was an artistic contrast. Now where these rings went is a real item. They are still with us in a different form. You will never guess what they are.

What are they?

I'll tell you shortly at your next dream. This will be right after you call your roommate on her boat.

That would be a time trip to probably beyond the area of the Garden, but why are you here in the desert? she asked.

I was about to try to outrun a mirage, he said. "These two dreams involve `before and apart’ objectively wherewith you can save the Nation in reality, not in fiction.

I would like to outrun a mirage also and see what one actually looks like! she said. It would be so retro to catch one before it disappears.

We will do that also, Justin said. How about getting back into the copter before it disappears.

Mr. System... I... do not like to be kept waiting too long for my dreams.

Need I remind you of your current problem? he asked.

I must stop us from a dreadful crash, she said frantically.

But may I ask you one question? Why did you start out with the tough or stiff language, and then become more... well... human? she asked.

I have set for you an example. I would hope that you will help that rather vertical and pretentious Mark Lanefield to become more of a regular guy. Kid around a little. He needs to have fun, Justin said.

Why the poor man has his soul hidden away in that blueprint file along with all those solutions to business and political problems. he added. You talk about a `working stiff’.

She shrugged her shoulders. Oh, is there ever a dull moment?

Well I guess I'll see you soon, Christy said.

Christy Ann awakened in the miniature helicopter and looked up again at the motionless rotors and aluminum components. She thought of how these propellers were not like wings in that there was not a chance to glide into a safe landing. There was only one chance.

She looked out as the copter seemed to increase in speed.

Break the back window and fix the throttle linkage, she said.

She held up a hammer that she had just pulled from a small tool box. Might you just take this hammer and break the glass now?

You are right, he said.

He did exactly as she said, and immediately started the engine.

He knew the copter was of a light enough alloy to regain control. They hovered after a few seconds of power.

You know what this means since I fainted? she asked. Women think better in their sleep.

He smiled but seemed a little defensive. I have forgotten the natural distaff claims to excellence that I must honor, and yet endure.

Oh, she said.

As a lawyer, I spend enough time arguing. I'll let that go, she added.

Lanefield was more firmly navigating the aircraft. He had wise gray eyes, which were inconsistent with a certain pretext to him.

He had a solid gold fountain pen in his white vest pocket, (which he constantly had propped out to the side so that it would be visible).

Now we must be straightened up, he said. I've got some guys waiting for me down there at my estate that are going to give me one million dollars for one week's work. It's not what it seems though.

What? she asked. What would anyone be willing to pay that kind of money for? I had no idea that that high of a fee was involved. I thought that I was coming out here to help you with a fairly minor contract. The face of the instrument... now let me see... million...

Lanefield reached in his pocket for a flip cell phone to call down to his estate, and then paused to answer her. I don't know all the facts. As you know I've been getting paid by corporations and government for years as an idea man, or a special problem solver, or call it what you will, but I have never been called into consult where a dollar figure of this magnitude was involved, with such a small time window.

He then achieved an automatic redial on his cell phone as he touched send button. (He was careful that she noticed his pre-program of this).

Lanefield here, he said to an employee down below. Instructions shortly.

I understand, was the reply.

Lanefield's assistant hung up the phone. He was standing by the doorway to an elegant office. It had two large white pillars on either side which encased the outline of the door which was of fine dark burgundy rosewood, contrasting the door itself of light oak. There was a silver stringed burgundy cherry wood harp just inside the doorway also.

He then apprehensively regarded some lighting, visible through a high window.

One of the visitors waiting for Lanefield in the office walked over to the assistant. Is everything okay?

The assistant walked over to a control board and sat down. I'd feel better if this storm would die down, he said.

More rain clouds were gathering ominously in the night sky. The windows were rattling from the increasing winds from the storm and the ocean, but not to the severity suggesting a hurricane. Large rain drops were splashing on the panes.

Suddenly there was some static from the control board. The assistant nervously reacted with anticipation. Is that... is that the wireless?

Lanefield's voice came over: Steve, I want you to turn on the entire swimming pool lighting system. This will help me to see to land.

Up in the helicopter Christy Ann was getting apprehensive. She tugged at Lanefield’s shirt sleeve with inquiring eyes. A... excuse me. We're landing in the swimming pool then? she said, in concern that Lanefield didn't know what he was doing.

No, into a type of simulated heliport, he said, thoughtfully of her distress. It is a rectangle of lights in fountains that come off my swimming pool and surround the courtyard. I did not design it for landing, but for effect. I have a hedged in courtyard with fountains. From our elevation it will first appear as a dot on the cliffs. Then with a type of fascination, or confident urgency he began to describe the scenario for her. When we dive in toward the dot, it soon will appear to be a tiny square. Its interior will become larger and larger with each second, and it will open up into a beautiful light rectangle in the night... it will be a great thing to see!

Christy Ann began to think to herself: `This guy may not be playing with all his chess pieces.’

They heard some static in the phone, at about the same time that some wind and lightning shook the craft. A voice came over the wireless. I'll be very happy to do that immediately for you, Mr. Lanefield, was the scratchy sounding reply. By the way, who’s your spoiled schoolgirl friend?

Christy Ann looked out the window: Are the people you hire insane too? she asked.

Turn on the lights, he said, ignoring her.

Oh, you want me to shut-up, she said, getting right up in his face.

He pushed her back, touching her shoulder gently.

He grabbed the controls, and at the same instant he looked out the window and realized that the rectangle was perceivable as such and not a dot in the distance, indicating to him that land was close. He instantly reacted and felt power pulling them sharply to the right and upwards, becoming more and more powerful and controlled: `an amazing instrument of technology’. The copter was being aimed at the middle of the courtyard now, and Christy Ann grabbed the support.

She could feel herself in mid air, as though the machine was falling out from underneath of her. In an instant, it swooped down, and hovered perfectly in the center of the courtyard. The force from the spinning blades brushed the tops of a hundred blue fountains.

They touched the ground. Mark looked over at Christy Ann. Not a bad landing if I do say so myself, he said.

Just for an instant, when the moonlight crossed over her face Lanefield thought he saw, or (wishfully perceived), an alluring glance. You had me a tiny bit worried there for a minute, she declared, in a self-assured tone of voice.

Christy Ann leaned over. By the way, she asked, how does one stop a helicopter the way you did? Lanefield smiled, and she was unsure whether he was being egotistical or just joking.

You are not privy to certain technologies. Do you realize that the earth is just a huge magnet? he asked.

Sure, gravity, she said, am I supposed to be quiver-faced about this?

Have you ever seen two magnets repel each other when you push them together? he asked.

Yes, she said, noticing that both copter doors had been opened from outside. People were speaking to Mark, but he was ignoring them to further elaborate. We are involved in certain things which transcend all technology that is known. The copter activated a magnetic field which created this same kind of gravity effect. This field inter-played negatively with the natural gravitational field of the world. The copter was gradually slowed by a spontaneously activated synthetic force.

Remember when we seemed to veer to one side? That was the moment of the maximum negative interactive effect. The copter was simply sort of `bounced gently away from the earth,’ creating an invisible horizon line upon which the power of the engines could take over. This is, remember, an experimental craft.

Mr. Lanefield, Mr. Lanefield, are you okay?

Lanefield could feel his butler’s hands on his arms, pulling him from what he perceived for a moment as an impossible, a glorious machine. He stood in almost complete darkness, only the lights from outside coming in through some high windows. The men who were there to see him were peering out.

Christy Ann emerged from her seat, still in mild shock, and was walking in the courtyard, skipping up and down the fountain lines in fanciful pretense, patting the tops of the bubbling fountains.

A man named Wistcott, who had noticed her was peering at her in disbelief. Gentlemen, we are about to perhaps save the United States from moral destruction and we've got her out there... acting like an idiot.

Yes she’s out of it a bit, Lanefield said, walking to her and putting his arm around her.

How is it that you thought your arm could be around me? she asked, swaying a bit, with emphasized femininity, and continuing to tap one hand on the tops of the fountains.

I had not really thought, he said. I'm sorry.

Astonishingly, she said: It is not wrong for you to do that, provided that you are the one man before, during, and after this moment that I am dedicated to forever. He found that his other arm just naturally found it's way around her when she turned and stopped. He was now holding the umbrella behind her in both hands, creating a sudden and unexpected privacy under the dark sphere of the umbrella.

I must be that individual, he said ironically. Else-wise how could I have both my arms about you?

Do you understand there still exists in this world such a thing as a lady? she asked.

This was all happening within a matter of seconds.

He tightened his arms around her a little bit, and was now able to see her face a little more clearly. He was able to see her bright blue glistening eyes. Her complexion was glowing and healthy like a peach color he thought possibly. She reached out as though trying to collect raindrops in her hand.

The took her small shoulders in his hands, which caused him to drop the umbrella to the ground.

Her face found it's most exquisite definition in the moonlight. He suddenly ran his fingers through the bright blond and golden strands of her hair.

I can't believe I did that Christy Ann, he said. Excuse me.

A voice resounded. FOR CRYING OUT LOUD... Are they going to kiss or something?

Lanefield looked back at her: They shouldn't put ideas like that in my head... He then caught himself. No... no I didn't mean that.

What do you mean? she asked. That you are going to start crying aloud is your focus.

She tilted her head and looked at his face. He had a smooth face outlined by dark hair with wisps of grey. He looked as though he had never suffered much stress, or at least had been a squared away executive for most of his early occupational years. His teeth were extremely white, as though he had spent an hour a day brushing them with a bleach whitener, or something.

Dr. E. W. Wistcott had been listening to them with the help of a distance surveillance microphone, which he stopped pointing at them. I'm going to get those `space cadets’ out of there.

Christy Ann noticed him suddenly splashing toward them through the courtyard. What's he want? she asked vacuously.

Dr. Wistcott ran up to Lanefield, and began shaking his index finger. Are you nuts Mark, we got us a program here.

Christy Ann placed her hand over her forehead. I feel faint, she said, sighing. She put her head on Lanefield's shoulder, her free hand still holding his, however rather tightly and by the fingers.

Lanefield went into the house with Christy and gestured toward a young girl employee. I think Miss England is going to be staying with us a few days, he said.

I think I better rest up, and get reacclimated, she said. My quarters please.

Here I'll show you, the girl said, and began walking Christy Ann down the hallway to a small elevator that Lanefield had moved in from another building as an upgrade to his estate. We'll go to the mall also the day after tomorrow and get you some things you'll be needing, the girl added.

They waited for the door to open.

There's just an excellent room in the west tower, with a fireplace and I might say appointed in a somewhat feminine decor. I'm not supposed to take you there because it's for visiting dignitaries. I think they made it accidentally 'fluffy' or something, so I want you to have it, the girl said, almost slyly.

But won't you get in trouble with Mark? Christy asked, noticing the opening door.

They got in the elevator.

First of all he won't know, the girl said, closing the elevator door. Second he is the greatest boss in the world, and would understand that I was trying to help you after your ordeal. He treats us like we were his friends, as long as we do the main items of our job well. Everybody understands this and works hard.

As they arrived in the room the girl quickly lit the gas fireplace and turned down a large round bed with white spreads. The room was outlined in light green wall covering, and sky blue drapes. Christy walked across a dark forest green oriental rug to the window.

There was a breeze ruffling the long drapes of the high balcony door, and she started to close it, but the girl was tapping her on the shoulder. This is mine, but you are certainly welcome to use it tonight, she said, handing her an ornate nightgown of the finest of cotton. It was luminous in the moonlight which snuck through the window panes.

Christy Ann touched it. Oh no I just couldn't, she said.

Yes, yes please. Use it until you get to the mall and Mr. Lanefield buys you a lot of nice things for your stay. He loves to do that for his guests. I think he enjoys those shopping tours more than they do.

He bought me this robe at the mall you know, the girl added.

You keep saying the mall. Is there only one? There are all kinds of malls.

That's true. But Mr. Lanefield really likes this mall. He would take you anywhere you want, but I know he wants to take you to his favorite mall because when he takes us he goes around remarking about its various attributes for about five minutes before we even shop and have dinner.

My oh my, Christy Ann said sarcastically, but without effrontery. I think I'll shower now, and thanks for the gown.

I'll be back to check up in a few minutes to see if there is anything else, the girl said, closing the door behind her.

When Christy finished showering, she heard a knock at the door. She let the girl in and walked over to the large round bed. I think I shall retire.

Of course, the girl said. I hope everything is agreeable.

Christy Ann lay down on the bed and let her head gently descend into a large down pillow. She brushed her hair back from her forehead with her wrist revealing a diamond watch with Roman Numerals, her hair falling like strands of blond gold over the silk pillow cover.

She sensed the girl was still in the room, and looked over to the door. Shall I get these lights for you on the way out? she asked.

Just leave on that banker’s lamp over there.

The girl turned out the lights in the restroom, and an adjoining parlor room, and then paused. Miss England, I'm hesitant to say this, but I saw people moving through the hall and I'm concerned about the door. May I lock it for you?

Of course.

I don't know some of these people, and I just felt well I just...

I understand, thanks so very much.

The girl left.

A cool drizzle-filled breeze found it's way to Christy Ann, so that she slowly began to get up to close the balcony door. The edge of the huge round bed was outlined with silver and gold threading that reflected in the light from the lamp, creating glistening orbits around the edge of the bed, so that she looked perhaps like a Greek goddess rising up from the rings of Saturn when she got up in the luminous pearl colored gown to shut the balcony doors.

She closed them, and ran back and jumped into the bed, quickly pulling a blanket up around her neck. She would have instantly attained sleep, but voices in the hallway got her attention. They were very close to the door.

As the failing in men is lust to be controlled, so is the weakness of women mischief never to be submerged. Though exhausted, she just had to hear the conversation in the hallway. She got to the door and opened it so that about one dim half inch of light revealed her blue eyes peering out into a hallway of many shades of woods and dimly lit chandeliers.

She saw Dr. Wistcott and Lanefield sitting in high back burgundy leather chairs.

Dr. Wistcott straightened his tie. Okay, are you with me? he asked. We have statistically projected that a set of solution events theoretically exists that would redirect American future history. This actually looks like something... it would...

Lanefield sat forward. His face then took on an appearance of levity, but tempered by concern. Oh come on... no... you are going to ask me to draw a solution diagram to change the future history of the United States... you have got to be kidding.

Actually, Dr Wistcott said, "we know little about it, only some of it's theoretical configurations. We know what form it takes, what it looks like (sort of). We know a diagram once existed that contained a remedy for morally deteriorating societies.

It was initially drawn by a chariot racer who got the help of some super spiritual Christian. I happen to think this racer was not of this world.

We want you and the five others plus a spiritual Christian to recreate it in the present day.

But let's go over the details of this later, at the meeting, Dr Wistcott said, turning his head and looking over at the slightly opened door behind which Christy Ann was standing.

Lanefield mused; I think this `chariot-jockey ‘ is a throwback to the first world before ours. I think this involves ancient thought systems. You know how the Bible talks about 'replenishing the earth' in Genesis: and it talks about the 'sons of God’ coming into the daughters of men? They were geniuses from the first world. I think a gene got through on Noah's boat.

Dr. Wistcott listened and then spoke. You are an expert in this type of analysis?

Indeed, and then recreate it for the twentieth century.

"Don't get me wrong E. W., because I know this has to be tried, but I must give you the following summary to show you how insane this sounds:

So, you think that we are going to pop up with a diagram that will save the United States of America.

Dr. Wistcott interrupted. May I restate it?

Sure.

You and Christy, and the other four, who by the way has accomplished her Ph.D. in addition to her law degree, can work together: and I don't mean the way you were working together in the courtyard out there, Dr. Wistcott said.

You call that work?

Please let me finish, Dr. Wistcott said. You will work together forming a perfect team, free to draw on others for assistance. Your objective will be to somehow try to redirect America from repeating the Roman Empire configuration which led to moral and then total destruction.

You see this is one of those things you just have to try, even if the chances are not good.

Now Mark, you must realize that probability implies that there are also improbable happenings. We are not as far off as you think.

I'm not here to give you a hard time E. W. You are going to pay me well. And I'm going to do my best, you know that. I consider it an interesting challenge. But Christy Ann...

Not everyone is so money-motivated as you E. W. Christy might tell you to take a walk, Lanefield added.

Dr. Wistcott put his hand on Lanefield's shoulder, and walked with him a few feet away, and then whispered. If she were going to reject, she would have come out into the hall and done so a minute ago.

But she's in the north tower, Lanefield said, looking around.

Naw... she's here in the west tower. I had my `mike’ on her and the girl when they were getting on the elevator, Wistcott said.

E. W., how often do you use that toy? Lanefield asked.

Often enough. Anyway I wanted to come up here and say this with her ease-dropping because in this context she would listen to every word and comprehend because she is a snoopy female. In the academic setting of our meeting, she would have gone to sleep.

"You are an unforgivable chauvinist, and a sexist pig sir... and furthermore you dared