Chapter 39

Well, by Thanksgiving there was nothing about bombs being delivered by mail to the University of Michigan. And the future story about the bomb in December disappeared. So things had changed.

Red, we gotta send another message to the FBI. Send it the same way as before, using the same signature. By the way, what name did you use?

[I signed the message that I sent to the FBI and associates, ‘A friend of peace.’]

So, send them another message. This one about the December bomb. Include all the details about where it’s to be found, and the store owner who’s scheduled to be killed. Also mention that the Unabomber is Ted Kaczynski, and he’s hiding out in a cabin in a the woods outside Lincoln, Montana. They’ll have to be very careful and find it for themselves. There should be plenty of evidence there.

[Lexi, what is going on, here? Do we need another distraction along the way?]

This should be the end of the distraction on the Unabomber. Keep track of the future news, please. There should be a news story about Ted K. and, other than his trial, nothing more about bombs going off.

I just have a feeling that we may need some ‘good guy credit’ somewhere along the way.

[Right. I’ve come to trust your feelings. I can supply data about the future news and how it’s changing.]

[Oh, by the way. There is no news about General McSorley or anybody else leading a significant raid on the Navajo reservation. There are small events, however.]

Nothing significant? What about the event in the mid-90s? Any news about that?

[The date seems to change, surprisingly enough. It seems to be settling down to mid-’94. Right in the middle of the crash.]

What about the Presidencies? Any changes?

[No. After Reagan, there’s a series of one-term Presidents. George H.W. Bush, Clinton, Powell, until George W. Bush gets two terms.]

Wait, wait! There was no one-term for Clinton and there wasn’t a President Powell, in my life #1.

[Well, since I started looking when you got Chas here, there has always been a President Powell.]

Why didn’t you tell me? That is a major change in things from my life #1.

[I didn’t look before then, and afterward it was always the same. Bush #1 (‘88), Clinton (‘92), Powell (‘96), Bush #2 (‘00). You never asked about it. Clinton took all the blame for the stock market crash that resulted from the coal/oil/gas collapse. Well, not ALL the blame. SotH got quite a lot of blame. Credit, too, for the savings in electric rates. Nobody cared about the environment, here in the U.S. There was a crash that rivaled the 1929 crash. In the resulting confusion, Colin Powell ran as a compromise Republican-Independent candidate, with Bob Dole as his VP. And he won in a three-way race: Powell/Dole finished first, Perot/Nader was second, and Clinton/Gore finished third, very close to Perot. It was about 40%-30%-29%.]

Wow. You just laid a major revision of the history I knew, on me. I’m going to have to think about this.

[Lexi, this is just the first major change.]

Yeah, yeah. I know.

... ...

By Thanksgiving, I was well into my third month of baby making. I had a clear baby bump and I had to get new jeans. The guys’ t-shirts still fit me, even if the ‘short sleeves’ would cover my elbows if I didn’t roll them up. I could tell now that the fetus attached to the upper placenta was Jimmy and Alex was the lower one. They had a brain (each, naturally), but it wasn’t capable of communication, it just sent out impulses to parts of his/her body. I was still just watching them grow.

I was working on communicating with the five Wokita dogs in my Navajo hacienda. Communicating was easy, they were glad to spend time with me. Getting them to shut down their bodies and ENTER my mind to help guard me against hostile presences was something else. Presumed hostile presences.

I finally got the eldest female, Sewai, to ‘go to sleep’ and allow me to bring her in. She wasn’t scared, and actually seemed to accept that this was just one more way of protecting me. Hoagande, a male, was next, although Sewai had to get mentally physical with him to convince he wasn’t here to mate with me. ‘Mentally physical’ was an interesting concept, but if you can grok the idea that he was ‘physically’ there, in my mind, you might understand it. One by one the other dogs came on board. It was sorta crowded, but I was glad to have them there. I practiced every day.

I didn’t want to interface with Tommy Sussex while he was awake, even though I had the guard dogs mentally present. I didn’t want to have any seriously psychotic person in my head while I had growing babies in me.

I DID contact him in the middle of the night, however. Night after night, I planted a series of sexual thoughts that focused on me. And then linked it to the threat that Marguerite Thorne, the sole remaining D.C. lawyer, presented to me. He even took the two-hour motorcycle ride to Bethesda, Maryland, just to get a look at her. He followed her on foot from her office building, to her car, and then followed her car to her home. And then he rode his ‘cycle back home to W.Va.

Two weeks later, he did it again; but this time he got a pizza from Tony’s Pizza and Subs, and carried it to her door on a Wednesday evening. When she opened the door, he pushed into the house and knocked her on the head. He raped her. Tommy hated her, by now, and the only way he understood to ‘get even’ with her was rape. When he was done, he repeated the crime he’d done in Phoenix. He tied her to her bed, set fire to it and got on his cycle and high-tailed it back to West Virginia. At least, she was unconscious, unlike Shioban.

...

By December, Chas had worked out a way to get the ‘permanent’ fusion bottles to implode on command. Just shoot the three lasers at it and turn off the EM field. Strangely, though that weakened the bottle, it didn’t implode. But when he turned on a garden hose to shoot some fine mist at the bottle, the whole bottle DID implode. Where did that idea come from? Squirt water on it? Doesn’t even make sense. That boy’s mind works in ways I’ll never understand.