Kathy called the television reporters to the front and told the print media, newspapermen mostly, to take the rear seats.
“I am glad all of you could come during what must be a busy, busy day for all of you. But you all must know why the President of the United States died. Why he had to die. Not even the President of the United States can defy the forces of the universe. In pressing to convict two innocent bearers of beauty and light, our President criminally has brought death on himself. As a hope for all Americans, I can only express my deepest sympathies for all of us and beg the new president not to follow such a course of folly. Had the President listened to my advice in the White House before I was forcibly removed, he would be alive today.”
“But, Ms. Bowen,” said a television reporter in the front row, “the President of the United States isn't dead.”
“What about his plane crash?”
All the newsmen looked puzzled.
Kathy Bowen looked at her watch. “What day is this?”
“Wednesday,” she was told.
“Damn,” she said.
Twenty minutes later, when the plane crashed, the Federal Bureau of Investigation arrested Kathy Bowen on the charge of attempted murder, and their case was augmented by the testimony of another Powie who told a tale of seduction and intrigue that she never knew would end in death. All she had to do was hand the man an envelope and tell him not to open it until he was at work. She didn't know he flew the President's plane. All she knew was that she could get to Level Four of Poweressence if she did this one little thing for them.
And she had needed it for her acting career, wanting to become as famous as Kathy Bowen herself.
Chapter 9
“I didn't say Wednesday,” hissed Rubin Dolomo. “I said don't be surprised if the President's plane crashes Wednesday.”
“You said Wednesday,” said Kathy Bowen. “You told me Wednesday. You said Beatrice said Wednesday.” Kathy Bowen looked around. Her voice was hushed. A glass-and-wire screen separated her from Rubin Dolomo. “I heard you say Wednesday.”
“Even so, why did you call a press conference for Wednesday?”
Rubin glanced to his right. A guard was sitting supposedly too far away to hear. But Rubin did not trust distances. He did not trust guards of any kind. He shivered at the thought of his being in a place like this.
“Beatrice says we will get you out. We have things under way, big things that are going to turn this whole business around. We're not taking it anymore,” said Rubin proudly.
Kathy's face looked like a collapsed balloon. All the energy and verve that had made her smile look like a lit billboard had vanished.
“I can't hold onto my positive course anymore. I'm losing my power. You've got to clear me, you have got to do a clearing of my mind.”
“That's what Beatrice sent me for.”
“I owe everything to the enlightenment. Now I feel I have lost it. I'll lose everything.”
“You own your own temple franchise. You should know how to go through the mind clearances yourself.”
“This is too much. I look around and all I see are bars on one side of my cell and cement on the other. I have a single open bowl for a toilet and a sink. I wouldn't have a closet this small. You've got to help me.”
“All right, what's the feeling you have?”
“I feel I am in jail.”
“In what part of your body is that feeling?”
“It's all over me. I feel trapped. I feel I can't move around.”
“In what part of your body is it strongest?”
“Everywhere.”
“Good. Now how strongly do you feel this?”
“Totally.”
“Is there any part of you that doesn't feel it?”
“My ring. My ring doesn't feel it.”
“Any part of your body?”
“My ears. Yes. My ears. My ears don't feel trapped.”
“Concentrate on your ears. What is the feeling?”
“Freedom. Light. Power.”
“You see, you still have your freedom. It is only your negative mind that tells you you are trapped. Move your arms. Are they free?”
Kathy wiggled her arms. She smiled broadly. She nodded.
“Move your head. Is that free?”
Kathy shook her hair and was almost laughing.
“Free,” she said.
“Your body,” said Rubin.
Kathy jumped up from her seat and shook her body. She was laughing now.
“I've never felt so free. I'm free.” She reached toward Rubin and hit the screen.
“Ignore that,” ordered Rubin quickly. “Ignore it. It's not your wall. Don't make it your wall. Don't make it your prison. It's their wall.”
“Their wall,” said Kathy.
“Their prison,” said Rubin.
“Their prison,” said Kathy.
“They built it. They paid for it. It is their prison.”
“Their prison,” said Kathy.
“Not yours.”
“Not mine.”
“You are free. Your ears understand what the rest of your body forgot. Their problems are theirs. You had made their problems your problems. You had bought into their negativity.”
“Their negativity,” said Kathy.
“You are always free. As long as you can make contact with your ears that remembered your freedom and power, you will always be free. It is they who are in jail.”
“Poor people. I know what it feels like. I feel sorry for them.”
“Them. Right. As long as you know it is they who are in jail and not you, you will be free.”
In her joy, Kathy reached out for Rubin but remembered they were separated by walls that kept the guards and officials prisoners of their own negativity.
She blew him a kiss and as an afterthought added her own observations.
“Do you remember how we learned that there are people who are consumed by negativity and how they bring negative life forces to others? Well, just before my press conference the most negative person I have ever met came as a contestant. Very negative. He was even arguing with the two others. One was one of us, a Powie. Yes, let me transmigrate my mind back to the scene.”
Kathy closed her eyes and pressed fingers to her temples.
“Yes, he was with an Oriental. The Oriental was nice. The girl was nice. He was negative. Yes. And I should have known not to have that press conference with him around. I should have delayed it.”
“You've found the negative force that put you here.”
“Yes,” said Kathy. “He exuded negativity. And I ignored it, and paid the price.”
“Did he have dark eyes?”
“Yes. Yes. I see them. Handsome. High cheekbones.”
“And wrists. What did the wrists look like?”
“Thick. Very thick wrists, almost as though the forearm went right into the hand.”
“Oh,” said Rubin, reaching into his pants for one of the pill packs. He didn't even look. He took two. He took three. He kept taking them until numbness released the panic in his body.
“He wanted to know about help with a witness. He said he had a court case against him.”
“You didn't send him to us, did you?”
“No. The press conference came first. Afterward he came up to us and talked a lot about witnesses and things, but then the FBI came and took me away. They arrested me, Rubin. You didn't tell me the right day.” Kathy's voice became tense.
“No. Don't start thinking like that or you'll begin to believe you're trapped in jail, Kathy,” said Rubin.
So the evil one was after them, Rubin realized. He had to tell Beatrice. He had to warn her.
But Beatrice did not care about the evil one. Beatrice had discovered a colossal foul-up in the President's plane plot.
“I know a Powie is turning evidence against us,” said Rubin. “I'm sorry, Beatrice, I should have taken greater precautions when I set up the colonel. But I'm at my limit for Motrin, Valium, and Percodan. I can't take the pressure anymore.”