“Swear!” said Jim-Jam...
“...Swear you will never, ever tell!”
“Never?”
“Never!”
“Ow! That hurts!” Patrick managed to disengage his twisted arm and rubbed it frantically. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I really mean it,” said Jim-Jam. “This is something that must never come out.”
The two friends were having their usual coffee; Jim-Jam (James) uncharacteristically, was dressed. After a fashion. He had exchanged blue paisley pyjamas for a jogging suit in a strange shade of lime green but had still thrown his tatty old dressing gown over the top.
“Habit,” he said.
“Why the jog-suit?”
“Been for a run.”
“A run? You?”
“Getting a paunch.”
“No you’re not.”
“I’m not fit.”
“You’re bone idle!”
“That’s exactly my point. So I’ve been out this morning and had a run round the square. It was quite nice.”
“ That’s hardly going to break you into a sweat!”
“Depends how often I do it.”
“And how often did you do it?”
“Three times. Said hallo to the squirrels. Met next-door-but-one with his wolfhound.”
“Doesn’t sound very taxing!”
“It’s a start.”
Patrick took a long swig of cooling coffee and stared pensively at his friend.
“Never. It’s a funny word.”
“All words are funny if you look at them long enough!” said James. “‘Book’ had me scratching my head for a week, once.”
“Never is so ... empty!”
“But it just means ‘on no occasion’.”
“No it doesn’t; it’s huge. It’s never, ever. It’s a big nothing from the beginning of everything to the impossible end of everything! Think about it Jim-Jam. ‘Never’ is the diametric opposite of ‘Forever’ ... which is eternity, ie infinity ... so it’s the dark side of infinity! It’s the most massive temporal black hole you could ever ... ever! ... conceive of.”
“Black holes aren’t empty.”
“How do you know?”
“I do my reading!”
“You can’t believe everything you read. All so-called science is speculation and blackboard chalk. Charisma and lies.”
“Patrick!!!”
“Well - they’re always arguing, aren’t they. And changing their minds. Look at butter. Look at eggs.”
“Are you suggesting we should be making lunch already?” Jim-Jam looked wistfully at his greasy but cold stove.
“All those things that were supposed to be killing us, and now all of a sudden they’re really good for us again. And we knew it all the time. They’re idiots.”
“We’ve got away a bit from black holes!”
“Nobody knows what a black hole is. They only have theories.”
“D’you know what I think? I think black holes are the interface between universes. Like wormholes.”
“They might be the doorways to the afterlife!”
“Try telling that to the John Gribbins of this world.”
“ I did, once. And once ..” said Patrick, “he was actually open to that sort of idea. Once he was a first-class sandal-wearing barefoot hippie interested in all the stuff we do. I did his chart - and his family. We had lunch. He was a great guy. But then he got famous.”
“He is a jolly good astronomer. And a prolific writer.”
“Exactly. And I went to one of his talks - this was years later - at a bookshop, and he cut me dead.”
“Really?”
“Really. He definitely didn’t want to know his astrologer any more. So I’ve never tried to make contact again.”
“Never! ...”
“He can go get lost in Never as far as I’m concerned. I sat next to Patrick Moore once and got into conversation about the way the whole thing hangs together and is full of purpose and consciousness but he was just rude. Wasn’t going to buy it at all. Wouldn’t even listen. Kept interrupting.”
“Shame on your namesake!”
“They do say ‘Never meet your heroes’!”
“They also say ‘Never speak ill of the dead.’”
“I’m not, Jim-Jam. I’m just telling you the facts. He was another great guy. But a closed mind.”
“Considering he was a Pisces with Sun conjunct Uranus that is so disappointing!”
“Gribbin’s another Piscean. What is it with these blokes that they slam the shutters down on their own imagination? You’d think they would intuit the truth behind the appearance of things.”
“I think Einstein did, didn’t he? He was a Sun-Pisces too. But he had good old open-minded, flexible, philosophical Sagittarius ‘under the hood’ and the other two are both fixed in their attitude, even though Gribbin’s Aquarius used to be quite experimental. Moore had Leo inside and liked to be right all the time.”
Jim-Jam paused, waiting for agreement.
“How do you remember all that detail, Jim-Jam? It must be ages since you looked that deep into their patterns. I thought you did that work years ago.”
“Once I’ve seen it I never forget. Visual memory.”
“Never?!”
“Never.”
“To the putative end of time you would never, ever forget anything you have ever seen in anyone’s pattern, at any level of detail?”
“Well ... as long as I was alive ...”
“Aha!” cried Patrick, winning at last, “That’s not ‘never’. You have closed the funeral curtains round it.”
“Oh no I haven’t,” retorted Jim-Jam.”I am including eternal life, which is forever, and my ‘never’ extends throughout that ‘forever’.”
“Come on. You can’t possibly guarantee that in a discarnate state you will be capable - or even desirous - of recalling intricate planetary patterns at the drop of a hat.”
“Who says I’ll be discarnate?”
“Well if you aren’t then you’ll have a totally different body and brain somewhere - which might not even be in this solar system! - you might be some blue multi-legged alien thingy! - and you’ll suffer from exactly the same amnesia as we all do when we reincarnate here. Am I right or am I right?”
“Oh my critical Virgo friend! Yes, I suppose I have to give you that one. We have no idea how much we have forgotten, after all. Lives lost in the limbo of never-ending change.”
“There,” said Patrick. “You’re off again. ‘Never-ending’. How do you know it’s never-ending? Aren’t we supposed to get off the Wheel of re-birth eventually?”
“Well, we haven’t yet!”
“True.”
There was a silence - in which Patrick looked at Jim-Jam’s Star Trek wall clock and noted with satisfaction that it was indeed twenty minutes past the hour. Silences always fell at twenty past or twenty to.
“So what is it that you were about to tell me that I must on pain of death or at least extreme discomfort never, never divulge to any soul living or dead, Jim-Jam?”
“This.”
James woke his crumb-laden laptop from sleep and silently turned the screen toward his friend. Patrick’s eyes widened.
“What the hell is that?”
The pattern was unlike anything he had seen before. James had gone to another level. In all the years they had been studying together no astrological technique had ever produced a result like this. In ring after concentric ring, Sun, Moon and planets converged to a point of energy that surely would turn the world and its civilisations on its head.
“I’m not going to tell you what I did - even you, Patrick. Well, not yet. And as you can see, the date is a long way off. But if anyone in the press got hold of this, or the politicians, or the general public, and took it seriously ...”
“Would they be likely to?”
“ ... if they did, which they might. You never know! ... it could make them very nervous and who knows might precipitate a lot of panic and disorder.”
“Or it might focus everyone’s mind for the first time on the things that really matter!”
“But the things that really matter are often the very ones that most divide people - look at the wars we have had to endure, all on points of inflexible principle that neither side can tolerate. It might make things a lot worse.”
“And in the end it may never happen. Again.”
“Well, something will!”
“Second Coming?”
“We wish!”
“Who knows what the world will be like by then, anyway, Jim-Jam. Change is accelerating. Perhaps we’ll reverse all the damage, and this will be a fresh start?”
“Or it could be the Rapture.”
“Whatever it is, I doubt we’ll be here to see it.”
“We may be looking down from Upstairs, going, ‘Told you so!’”
“But you’re right, Jim-Jam. I think we bury this. Just let history unfold. We mustn’t interfere. Even if only one person believed us it might be the proverbial butterfly’s wing that starts a hurricane. What will you do with it?”
“Just file it. Let go and let God.”
“Supposing someone finds it?”
“How?”
“They steal your laptop. Or it’s discovered after you die.”
“Thank you, Patrick, for that cheering thought. No, you have a point. Perhaps I should erase the file ...”
“Completely shred it.”
“Then it will never come to light.”
“Never be a danger.”
“But I shall never forget what I have seen, and now neither will you! This is a secret that we share; and we must never speak about it.”
“Never, Jim-Jam. And you will never have to twist my arm!”
James was already breaking eggs.
______________________________________________________________________________________
“...Swear you will never, ever tell!”
“Never?”
“Never!”
“Ow! That hurts!” Patrick managed to disengage his twisted arm and rubbed it frantically. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I really mean it,” said Jim-Jam. “This is something that must never come out.”
The two friends were having their usual coffee; Jim-Jam (James) uncharacteristically, was dressed. After a fashion. He had exchanged blue paisley pyjamas for a jogging suit in a strange shade of lime green but had still thrown his tatty old dressing gown over the top.
“Habit,” he said.
“Why the jog-suit?”
“Been for a run.”
“A run? You?”
“Getting a paunch.”
“No you’re not.”
“I’m not fit.”
“You’re bone idle!”
“That’s exactly my point. So I’ve been out this morning and had a run round the square. It was quite nice.”
“ That’s hardly going to break you into a sweat!”
“Depends how often I do it.”
“And how often did you do it?”
“Three times. Said hallo to the squirrels. Met next-door-but-one with his wolfhound.”
“Doesn’t sound very taxing!”
“It’s a start.”
Patrick took a long swig of cooling coffee and stared pensively at his friend.
“Never. It’s a funny word.”
“All words are funny if you look at them long enough!” said James. “‘Book’ had me scratching my head for a week, once.”
“Never is so ... empty!”
“But it just means ‘on no occasion’.”
“No it doesn’t; it’s huge. It’s never, ever. It’s a big nothing from the beginning of everything to the impossible end of everything! Think about it Jim-Jam. ‘Never’ is the diametric opposite of ‘Forever’ ... which is eternity, ie infinity ... so it’s the dark side of infinity! It’s the most massive temporal black hole you could ever ... ever! ... conceive of.”
“Black holes aren’t empty.”
“How do you know?”
“I do my reading!”
“You can’t believe everything you read. All so-called science is speculation and blackboard chalk. Charisma and lies.”
“Patrick!!!”
“Well - they’re always arguing, aren’t they. And changing their minds. Look at butter. Look at eggs.”
“Are you suggesting we should be making lunch already?” Jim-Jam looked wistfully at his greasy but cold stove.
“All those things that were supposed to be killing us, and now all of a sudden they’re really good for us again. And we knew it all the time. They’re idiots.”
“We’ve got away a bit from black holes!”
“Nobody knows what a black hole is. They only have theories.”
“D’you know what I think? I think black holes are the interface between universes. Like wormholes.”
“They might be the doorways to the afterlife!”
“Try telling that to the John Gribbins of this world.”
“ I did, once. And once ..” said Patrick, “he was actually open to that sort of idea. Once he was a first-class sandal-wearing barefoot hippie interested in all the stuff we do. I did his chart - and his family. We had lunch. He was a great guy. But then he got famous.”
“He is a jolly good astronomer. And a prolific writer.”
“Exactly. And I went to one of his talks - this was years later - at a bookshop, and he cut me dead.”
“Really?”
“Really. He definitely didn’t want to know his astrologer any more. So I’ve never tried to make contact again.”
“Never! ...”
“He can go get lost in Never as far as I’m concerned. I sat next to Patrick Moore once and got into conversation about the way the whole thing hangs together and is full of purpose and consciousness but he was just rude. Wasn’t going to buy it at all. Wouldn’t even listen. Kept interrupting.”
“Shame on your namesake!”
“They do say ‘Never meet your heroes’!”
“They also say ‘Never speak ill of the dead.’”
“I’m not, Jim-Jam. I’m just telling you the facts. He was another great guy. But a closed mind.”
“Considering he was a Pisces with Sun conjunct Uranus that is so disappointing!”
“Gribbin’s another Piscean. What is it with these blokes that they slam the shutters down on their own imagination? You’d think they would intuit the truth behind the appearance of things.”
“I think Einstein did, didn’t he? He was a Sun-Pisces too. But he had good old open-minded, flexible, philosophical Sagittarius ‘under the hood’ and the other two are both fixed in their attitude, even though Gribbin’s Aquarius used to be quite experimental. Moore had Leo inside and liked to be right all the time.”
Jim-Jam paused, waiting for agreement.
“How do you remember all that detail, Jim-Jam? It must be ages since you looked that deep into their patterns. I thought you did that work years ago.”
“Once I’ve seen it I never forget. Visual memory.”
“Never?!”
“Never.”
“To the putative end of time you would never, ever forget anything you have ever seen in anyone’s pattern, at any level of detail?”
“Well ... as long as I was alive ...”
“Aha!” cried Patrick, winning at last, “That’s not ‘never’. You have closed the funeral curtains round it.”
“Oh no I haven’t,” retorted Jim-Jam.”I am including eternal life, which is forever, and my ‘never’ extends throughout that ‘forever’.”
“Come on. You can’t possibly guarantee that in a discarnate state you will be capable - or even desirous - of recalling intricate planetary patterns at the drop of a hat.”
“Who says I’ll be discarnate?”
“Well if you aren’t then you’ll have a totally different body and brain somewhere - which might not even be in this solar system! - you might be some blue multi-legged alien thingy! - and you’ll suffer from exactly the same amnesia as we all do when we reincarnate here. Am I right or am I right?”
“Oh my critical Virgo friend! Yes, I suppose I have to give you that one. We have no idea how much we have forgotten, after all. Lives lost in the limbo of never-ending change.”
“There,” said Patrick. “You’re off again. ‘Never-ending’. How do you know it’s never-ending? Aren’t we supposed to get off the Wheel of re-birth eventually?”
“Well, we haven’t yet!”
“True.”
There was a silence - in which Patrick looked at Jim-Jam’s Star Trek wall clock and noted with satisfaction that it was indeed twenty minutes past the hour. Silences always fell at twenty past or twenty to.
“So what is it that you were about to tell me that I must on pain of death or at least extreme discomfort never, never divulge to any soul living or dead, Jim-Jam?”
“This.”
James woke his crumb-laden laptop from sleep and silently turned the screen toward his friend. Patrick’s eyes widened.
“What the hell is that?”
The pattern was unlike anything he had seen before. James had gone to another level. In all the years they had been studying together no astrological technique had ever produced a result like this. In ring after concentric ring, Sun, Moon and planets converged to a point of energy that surely would turn the world and its civilisations on its head.
“I’m not going to tell you what I did - even you, Patrick. Well, not yet. And as you can see, the date is a long way off. But if anyone in the press got hold of this, or the politicians, or the general public, and took it seriously ...”
“Would they be likely to?”
“ ... if they did, which they might. You never know! ... it could make them very nervous and who knows might precipitate a lot of panic and disorder.”
“Or it might focus everyone’s mind for the first time on the things that really matter!”
“But the things that really matter are often the very ones that most divide people - look at the wars we have had to endure, all on points of inflexible principle that neither side can tolerate. It might make things a lot worse.”
“And in the end it may never happen. Again.”
“Well, something will!”
“Second Coming?”
“We wish!”
“Who knows what the world will be like by then, anyway, Jim-Jam. Change is accelerating. Perhaps we’ll reverse all the damage, and this will be a fresh start?”
“Or it could be the Rapture.”
“Whatever it is, I doubt we’ll be here to see it.”
“We may be looking down from Upstairs, going, ‘Told you so!’”
“But you’re right, Jim-Jam. I think we bury this. Just let history unfold. We mustn’t interfere. Even if only one person believed us it might be the proverbial butterfly’s wing that starts a hurricane. What will you do with it?”
“Just file it. Let go and let God.”
“Supposing someone finds it?”
“How?”
“They steal your laptop. Or it’s discovered after you die.”
“Thank you, Patrick, for that cheering thought. No, you have a point. Perhaps I should erase the file ...”
“Completely shred it.”
“Then it will never come to light.”
“Never be a danger.”
“But I shall never forget what I have seen, and now neither will you! This is a secret that we share; and we must never speak about it.”
“Never, Jim-Jam. And you will never have to twist my arm!”
James was already breaking eggs.
______________________________________________________________________________________