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The Shift

Allan Onik

    Brock stepped out of the Fairfield Police car and neared the golden dome. Sonia was meditating on a nearby bench.
    Maharishi is preparing to drop his body, Sonia thought.
    Of course, he’s what 93 now or something? Even a guru must drop as some point, Brock thought. He took his Glock out of it’s holster and sat cross legged in front in front of the dome’s outside bench, placing the gun in front of him. He began to meditate. Pure awareness shot through him for the full 20 minutes. The two opened their eyes. Why did you draw me here? He thought, this isn’t the best time—2 a.m. and the dome’s locked anyways.
    Why don’t you go over and check? Sonia thought.
    Brock drew the gun to his hand and put it back in the holster. He walked to the dome’s entrance and tried the door. It was unlocked and he entered.

    He noted Maharishi levitating in the center of the dome’s meditation space, cross legged. Next to him was a blue angel and his underlings John Begg, Tony Nader, and John Haglin were reading Vedic scripts.
    We needed your protection from the crazies while he drops his body, Haglin thought.
    A guru needs my help? Brock thought
    You’re the protection of this town, Begg thought
    And you’ll be well rewarded, why don’t you take out your gun and have a rest? Nader thought.

    Brock sat cross legged again but this time held the Glock and watched Maharishi. A daemon grew out of the floor and approached the guru. The angel pointed it’s fingers and emanated a blue beam, deterring it.
    Hellfire! Haglin thought. Meditate!
    Brock closed his eyes and began his mantra. He found himself surrounded by black flames, and he walked through them. From a distance he saw The Milky Way, and he got closer. Soon he saw Jupiter and Saturn, Uranus and Neptune, and before he could gasp from wonder he was staring at Earth with the Sun warming his back. It looks a priceless jewel, buried in dark layers of soil and stone, Maharishi thought, it radiates it’s beauty through the caverns of space and time. Brock heard him and reached out. He plucked a dark feather from the blackness, and it dissipated.
    When he awoke the men were still meditating, and the angel and daemon were gone. Maharishi was lying on his back, covered in flowers.

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