Last Vampire 6(19)

"She is a strong woman," Alanda says softly, read­ing my mind. "But delicate as well."



"Can a planet be alive?" I ask.



"Can a sun?" she replies. "I told you that it was the god within your sun that decided that humanity should live with the veil—until this time."



"Are you from a world that experienced such a veil?"



"Originally, yes."



"Can you tell me about that world?" I ask.



"Not at this time."



"But I lived there before I came to Earth?"



"Not precisely. Before you came here, you existed in a realm of great glory."



"You're saying that I was in a higher dimension?"



"Yes," Alanda says. "A higher density."



"Why did I decide to come to Earth?"



"To serve, to grow. The two are the same in the creator's eyes."



"Why did I chose to be a vampire?"



Alanda hesitates. "When you came here, you were not a vampire."



"I had a life before this one?"



Her voice is abruptly filled with melancholy. "Yes. Very long ago."



She is trying to tell me something without saying it.



"I made a mistake when I returned?" I say. "Is that why I had to be reborn as a vampire?"



Alanda reaches over and touches my face. "You returned to this third density out of love. If you made a mistake, Sita,it was only out of love. You mustn't blame yourself."



Already we are over India. I nod to Rajastan, desert meeting green.



"I was born there five thousand years ago," I say. "I am sure you know that. But what you might not know is that I feel I never left that tiny village. I am still that young girl spying on the Aghora sacrifice that invoked Yaksha into Amba's dead womb." I pause. "I held him as an unborn infant in my hand. He was just a trace of movement beneath the hard skin of a corpse. I had a knife in my hand, and my father gave me the choice of ending his life before it could begin." A wave of weariness sweeps over me and I lower my head. "But I couldn't kill Yaksha."



Alanda hugs me. "Because of love, you see. You must let go of the past."



"But you are sending me into a past I want to let go of."



"But this is the only way you will be able to be finished with it. Trust us, Sita. We do this for you as much as for ourselves. Our futures are entwined,"



I look up and smile. "Just because I almost killed you doesn't mean I believe you would lie to me." I pause. "You risked your life meeting me like that."



"It was the only way to meet you."



"It was a test?" I ask.



"In a manner of speaking."



"You could have defended yourself from me."



Alanda turns back to the view. "I counted on your compassion."



"The compassion of a murderer?"



"Of an angel."



I have to laugh. "You are as bad as Seymour. He sees me that way, no matter what I do."



"He is wise."



I sigh. "I would love it if he were with us now."



Alanda is thoughtful. "In a sense, he is. He is always with you."



Her remark strikes deeply into me. "Why is that so true?"



Alanda stares at the Earth, India. "You will see."



A short time later the Earth begins to shrink as we pull away from it at a tremendous velocity. Soon it is only a blue ball, falling into a well of blackness. The floor turns solid as the sides become clear. The rays of the sun stab through the saucer's view screens and I feel their warmth. There is no sense of acceleration, however. I see the moon, but only for a few seconds, and then it is lost in the glare of the Earth. But then that planet, the only home I can remember, is also lost in the rays of the sun. The sun begins to diminish in size and brilliance. Alanda turns away and strolls to the center of the craft. But my eyes are gripped by the stars ahead of us.



"I've had these dreams," I say to Alanda and Gaia both. Gaia stands at a respectful distance, silent, peaceful, absorbed in a contemplation I cannot imag­ine. Yet I know he watches me and listens to my thoughts. I continue, "In them I would be in a spaceship flying through the galaxy toward the Pleia­des. Ray would usually be with me, but sometimes it would be my husband, Rama. Never were both with me, but I think that's because—in my dreams—they were always the same person. Anyway, we would be excited and filled with a sense of adventure. We would know, when we reached the Pleiades, that all our friends would be waiting for us. We even knew that Krishna would be there, to welcome us and to heal the many injuries we had received living on Earth. Most of all, in these dreams, I would be happy, and it would be hard to wake from them." I pause. "Were they just dreams, Alanda?"