As Gupta Pradesh continued to outline the rules and conditions of “life” in the astral world, Brice Mack’s eyes flicked toward the jury for a quick assessment of their reactions and was happy to see more than half of them sitting in rapt attention, listening with keen interest. The maharishi’s voice held a bell-like clarity as he joyously told of how souls occupying a higher plane were able to look down on the planes below them and how they were also able to visit friends and relatives on the lower planes, but that those living on the lower planes were unable to return the compliment as they could neither see nor hear the souls on a higher plane.
“As the earthbound needs of the material life decrease, so do the periods of spiritual existence between incarnations grow longer, some elevated and highly refined souls remaining in their state of rest for twenty thousand years or even more and returning to the earth life only when the need of their specialized services to enrich and improve the world is required. These are the leaders, the great philosophers, the great teachers, the great statesmen, men such as Abraham Lincoln, Luther Burbank, Albert Einstein, Mahatma Gandhi, men whose Karmic qualifications have approached the pinnacle of perfection and whose spiritual development has brought them to the very threshold of that state of bliss in the presence of the Divine One which is Nirvana, the place of final rest in the loftiest of spiritual realms.”
Brice Mack’s wandering eyes caught Juror Seven, Graser, yawning and Potash grinning like a loon. He’d had a feeling that Potash would be trouble and could kick himself for not having used a peremptory on him when he had the chance.
“But these perfect souls are few in number. The majority of souls occupy various lower levels of the astral world in which they wait and work and, through meditation, seek to clothe themselves in the higher spiritual garments and so achieve promotion from a lower to a higher plane. When a soul wishes to return to earth life, it allows itself to seek a rebirth, foraging about for the proper parents and circumstances in which to be reborn. Quite often, a returning soul may be accompanied by another soul, as, for example, the soul of a loved one, each selecting to be incarnated at the same time so as to enjoy a continuance of relationship on earth. None of the past, however, is remembered, and the new earth life manifests its own demands and conditions, sweeping the awakening child into the dizzying whirl of its own pace.”
Gupta Pradesh suddenly paused and remained caught in a torpor of contemplation, his glazed eyes reflecting the vacuity of a man who has temporarily lost his way. A ripple of restlessness coursed throughout the courtroom. When, after a full minute of silence, he had still not picked up the thread of his discourse, Brice Mack gently prodded, “Is there anything more you wish to add, sir?”
The question penetrated the empty look and brought the return of awareness.
“Just this,” the maharishi pronounced in a breathless, hushed tone and with a countenance suddenly revitalized. “A message from beyond. The journey is far. Progression is eternal. The end is good. There is nothing to fear. The power that rules on earth rules in the astral cosmos. And all is governed by law! All are blessed and watched over and protected, even to the final atom in the scale of being.”
A supernal glow of inner faith shone forth from the maharishi’s eyes and impinged upon Elliot Hoover, who sat mesmerized, a beatific smile on a face that radiated understanding, acceptance, and eternal gratitude. Neither tacit nor secret, but openly expressed, the communication between the two men did not pass the attention of the court. The jurors’ eyes, Brice Mack noted, shifted back and forth between the witness stand and the defense table as though covering the progress of a tennis match. Judge Langley’s crotchety face, hanging over the bench, wore an expression of perplexed irritation as a further spate of silence ensued, which finally provoked the nettled jurist caustically to demand of the defense attorney, “Any further questions of this witness, Mr. Mack?”
There were plenty of questions he desperately wanted to ask, basic, bedrock questions that would pull the maharishi off his lofty astral plane and bring him down to earth, but Hoover’s strict admonition prevented him from doing so. With a small, pathetic sigh and shake of the head, the defense attorney turned from the witness and addressed the bench.
“No, Your Honor, no further questions.”
The judge raised his eyes toward the prosecutor, who had already risen from his seat.
“Mr. Velie?”
“Yes, Your Honor, we have several questions we wish to ask the learned gentleman.”
The maharishi, assured of the veneration that his followers accorded him, preserved a mien of gentle acceptance and tranquillity even in the face of this gross and callous man lumbering toward him, his teeth partially exposed in a twisted smile that bespoke a heart of stone and a mind filled with harmful intentions.
“This astral world, or cosmos, that you speak of—is it simply a metaphysical symbol, like heaven and hell, or is it an actual place?”
“It exists,” replied the maharishi in a kindly and temperate voice.
“Have you ever been there? Seen it?”
“Many times throughout eternity.” The maharishi smiled. “As have you.”
“Well, I’m somewhat foggy on the physical details of the place; perhaps you can refresh my memory a bit.”
The pale and limpid waters of the sage’s eyes became like granite as Scott Velie continued.
“For example, this astral cosmos, teeming with astral beings, can you tell the jury what it looks like?”
“Looks like?”
“Yes. Is it like a big park with trees and shrubs and rocks, or is it rather like a desert, say, a barren wasteland, with no signs of vegetation?”
Gupta Pradesh moistened his lips with his tongue.
“The astral universe cannot be described in the same way one describes the material cosmos. The astral universe consists of subtler hues of light and color and numberless vibrations. In the astral world, all is beauty, purity, and perfection.”
“Hmm.” Scott Velie took a few seconds to consider the maharishi’s words. “What you’re saying is, it’s no place like home?”
The quip brought a response of laughter from jurors and reporters alike and a smile to Judge Langley’s face. Bill saw Brice Mack rise to object and Elliot Hoover’s hand stop him from doing so.
The maharishi seemed impervious to the prosecutor’s cynicism and calmly replied, “It is certainly not a home as we know it on earth; however, to the beings who dwell on the various levels of the astral universe, it is a home of infinite and shining beauty.”
“Oh, yes—can you tell us about these beings who dwell there? Do they continue to take a human form, or are they just … uh … you know, smoke and blobs?”
“Astral beings may manifest any forms they so desire, human, animal, even floral. There are no restrictions or limitations.”
A mischievous grin appeared on Velie’s face.
“Really?” His voice struggled to subdue laughter. “You don’t say! You mean I could transform myself into a rose or a daisy if I wanted to?”
“Or, even more easily, a pig.”
The maharishi’s equanimity was supreme. Potash guffawed aloud, as did Carbone and Fitzgerald. Judge Langley, wreathed in smiles, banged his gavel half-heartedly as Velie, obviously chagrined, took the time to walk to his table and consult his notes.
“By the way,” Velie asked in an offhanded manner, “are you aware of the defendant’s belief that the victim in this case, the child, Ivy Templeton, is the reincarnation of his daughter, Audrey Rose?”