Meeting 8. The Thinking Lava Lamp
Meeting: 5th February 2025
Published: 11th February 2025
Meeting: 5th February 2025
Published: 11th February 2025
Traveling to meet Shaka for the eighth time. I really hope this isn't a one-time-use capsule-I'd like to think there's a return ticket. I have a date later this week, after all. May I speak to my Shaka?
As Shaka leads me through a short, triangular tunnel, beams of light pulse around me, flashing intermittently. It feels like some kind of scan-security checkpoint, maybe? I wonder if my belly button ring will set off an alarm. Or worse, that ill-advised midnight tattoo I swore I'd never, ever let my mother see.
I emerge into a glass-walled pod, an observation sphere perched on the edge of the massive mothership. The seat beneath me adjusts as if it was made just for me. Through the curved window, I watch as ships streak toward Earth, thousands of them, shooting down like meteors, leaving fiery trails across the atmosphere.
My breath catches. "Shaka, what am I looking at?"
Beside me, my Shaka sits, calm as ever. The entire display, the invasion-like scene unfolding before me-it's not real. It's a simulation, playing out on the heads-up display in front of me. A projection of a possible future? A warning?
Thousands of ships.
I glance at Shaka. Are you going to tell me what this means?
As always, I know the answers will come in time.
Shaka speaks "Equality. These are said to be the changes of the land. Be pertinent, not discouraged. Listen to the voices of nature."
Is this some kind of tactical exercise? A surprise attack?
"Do not worry. We will discover the outposts and wipe them out."
Shaka gestures toward various locations on the planet, indicating specific points with deliberate precision.
"Wipe them out."
I'm mumbling to myself as I make out Florida on the display, then Shaka says-"Be quiet."
Oh, okay. This is important.
Shaka presses a series of buttons on the console in front of me. A moment later, safety clamps lock me into place, and the pod detaches from the mothership.
We drop fast, cutting through the atmosphere toward the ocean below. As we hit the water, I spot a submarine. Without hesitation, our pod dives beneath it, slipping even deeper into the depths.
"Beware. Vultures everywhere." I hear Shaka say
We enter the side of an underwater trench, gliding smoothly into a narrow tube. A flicker of unease creeps in-I'm a little claustrophobic, and I really hope Shaka knows this.
Then, just as quickly as the walls seemed to close in, we emerge into a vast open space-an enormous underground cave.
It's an underground city. A massive central mountain rises at its core, surrounded by a circular structure.
Yes...an underground city, I whisper in awe, my breath catching. Wow.
Inside the Earth?
Soft light filters down from above, illuminating the vast cavern. Birds glide through the open space, their wings catching the glow. Lakes shimmer below, reflecting the artificial sky. It looks and feels like the surface of Earth-except it's hidden deep beneath it.
I turn to Shaka, my voice barely above a whisper. What is this place?
"It's a home station, outpost, warrior world. Be watchful."
We descend deeper into the city, layer by layer. Below the surface, I see workshops, an assembly plant-entire levels dedicated to something intricate and purposeful.
It's almost like this whole place is self-contained, a hidden world operating beneath the Earth.
"It's a pod. A city pod."
It reminds me of those artistic depictions of Atlantis-an ancient, advanced civilization hidden away, lost to time but still thriving beneath the surface.
"Technologies are a must." Shaka says.
"The Ring of Fire. Is a must. With warmth. Peak oscillations there is a central engine here, underneath the center. It's a generator."
The mountain looks artificial, but it's too far away to be sure. Its shape reminds me of the Eiffel Tower-wait, no. I focus harder, adjusting my perspective. It's a pyramid. A massive pyramid, right in the middle of the city.
How did I not see that before? Dah!
I turn to Shaka, my curiosity buzzing. Where does this city pod come from? Was it attached to the mothership? How did you get it here?
"By dimension compressing."
Oh, of course. Dimension compressing. Totally normal.
What is the purpose of this place?
"For preparing everyone."
There are life forms all around, engaged in gardening and agricultural activities. The scene reminds me of those photos of ancient Mesoamerican cities-grand structures, bustling energy, a sense of purpose woven into the very layout. It has that same blend of civilization and nature, like something out of history, yet alive in the present.
I turn to Shaka. Is there some kind of assembly happening here? It feels like a place where things are being manufactured.
"Yes, marching ahead." Shaka says.
"It's the vicarious nature of things of the past. The tectonics of rediscovery, technological adjustment."
I look at Shaka and sigh. You are very patient with me-I'm still learning how to understand what you're saying.
Shaka smiles.
Honestly, way too patient. Shaka places a hand on my shoulder, a quiet acknowledgment. I realize-Shaka remembers this from our last meeting.
Oh, how I love teaching foreigners our ways...ahem!
Then, Shaka's hand moves to mine, giving it a gentle squeeze.
I shake my head with a smirk. You have infinite patience.
"Be aware. Be open. Mother nature is discerning."
"Can you hear the chirping, the rustling, the wind. The bubbling nature. Try to be concerned of the above, the petals."
I look around, noticing the leaves-their petals look like they're rotting, darkened and withering at the edges.
"The adjustment is needed." Shaka says
Shaka seems to be showing me the beauty of nature here, but there's an unspoken message-it's up to us to restore it. It needs to be fixed.
"The dying nature must be restarted on your planet. Contact is needed."
"You are travellers from a distant world. Put here, under the sun. To bleed, to discern. To be beached, ladened and weighed. While you are tuned."
I get the impression that Shaka is saying we are some kind of slaves. Yeah...that's exactly what Shaka is implying.
It's a strange concept-one that doesn't sit right with me. I thought I was a free girl!
"You are not meant to be this way. I am hopeful we can discover the essence. The watchful are been observed. Tinkering."
I notice a large disc spinning off to the side, its motion smooth and deliberate.
"These are the symbols of noise and vibration. A symmetry of uniqueness. The vibrations create the harmony inside here. It's like music to us. The city vibrates. Makes us feel alive."
I gaze back over the city. There's something familiar about its design-stony, solid. I bet it's made of some kind of structured concrete or a similar material, all arranged in a circular formation.
Then, my eyes lock onto the central pyramid.
"It's a place for peace."
Are you quite safe here? I ask, glancing around.
Then, once again, I catch myself. Ugh, I keep calling you Sasha instead of Shaka. That's actually someone's name in my family. I shake my head, feeling flustered. I'm just so confused and overwhelmed. I don't mean to be rude.
Shaka winks at me.
I take a breath, observing the city again. There's a quiet pride in the way Shaka presents it, like this place is something deeply important-a representation of home. It's immaculate, the air crisp, the water crystal clear.
I turn back to Shaka. So why put this underground on Earth instead of just keeping it on your mothership?
"Water. It's the water. The vibration of the water. In the snow and the ice form the distinct nature."
Okay. Shaka shows me an image-pyramids at the poles. The same ones from an earlier meeting.
So there's a connection between those and this one.
Shaka is feeding me information bit by bit, just enough to keep me curious, never too much at once.
"Communication with the outpost."
What else should I know, Shaka? I ask, eager for more pieces of the puzzle.
"We communicate verses to events through this telescopic lens. It shoots beams of light out into the open. With information, through the stars, to homeworld."
Oh, so this is like a communications center with home, I say, piecing it together.
"Yes, You should be aware of this."
So this place-the underground city-can't be found? Realizing just how hidden it truly is.
"Its hidden."
This is exciting stuff-I'm completely absorbed, listening intently, hanging on every detail.
"You are an interesting character." Shaka says to me.
"We don't normally come across someone strange like you. But very distraught and unfocused. You have a lot to learn."
Oh, true, true. I say back to Shaka with a smirk. Shaka knows me too well!
"We will be away from here once the process is complete. We will leave a seed. A tiny seed of emotion. That is beckoning true nature."
When do you think you'll make open contact with Earth? my curiosity pressing for a clear answer.
"We are already in talks and negotiations with some ministers. We'll wait for them to be ready. It takes time."
Do you mean political ministers or religious ministers? Shaka doesn't respond.
I pause for a moment, then try another question.
How do you think humanity will react to your arrival?
"There will be some discharge." Shaka says. "Some disruption, some riots, but the general purpose agreement is under the table. We wish for the best. We cannot control the outcome. A generational movement it takes. We have sowed the seeds."
Shaka brings up the pinball machine again, using it as a metaphor for how much time this process is taking.
"We will wash the scourge of existence. We're watching them. The black leather titans."
"The pyramids are but a nature structure. Designed to accommodate."
I look down at the pyramid from the glass pod, noticing how the edges seem significant. Energy-something-shoots out from the top.
Is this some kind of communication?
"A transportation tower."
What is it transporting, Shaka? I ask, watching the energy surge from the structure.
"Essences! So we can reuse them."
Shaka, phew! That's a lot of information to take in. I could really use a cup of coffee right now.
"We do not indulge ourselves with such liquid fashion."
"We do not have the culinary devices that you do. We eat and drink for our anatomy. It has long been the way not to tamper with what fulfills us. Meditation and assimilation. Growth. This is the way."
Shaka continues explaining the concept of the tower, speaking with a sense of purpose, as if every detail holds deeper significance.
"Manipulation of atoms. In a roundabout way, singing the song of nature."
Shaka seems completely enamored with the idea of being in a forest, the leaves rustling in the wind. Shaka inhales deeply, as if savoring the scent-like it's the most incredible thing. I'm starting to feel it too.
"Our homeworld is much the same. A terran species, aquatics, diamond crusted hills. Prairies, forests, animals like gerbils, forest queens and long grass."
What about your cities, Shaka? Curious about what their world looks like.
"We do not need or want to tamper with nature. The queen bee, do not tamper with the queen bee."
The image Shaka conveys to me suggests that they live underground on their homeworld, in vast cavernous cities-much like this one. Their existence seems to be divided between these subterranean settlements and their spaceships.
"We were once an aquatic species."
"Evolved by tampering, much like you. Designed by nature, filmed by the event. Do not quandary for we are the same, just different species and there is also a long list of unadulterated and quantifiable species."
We've landed, the glass ship settling onto the circular structure of the city. Without hesitation, we step out.
Now, we're descending-some kind of elevator taking us down further.
As we step out onto a platform, my eyes lock onto a massive sphere ahead of us. It's huge, at least ten stories high, looming over the steps we're about to take.
"The records room. We're going to the records room." I hear.
We reach a door. The gates are locked-at least, I think they are. Why would they be locked?
It looks like it requires some kind of special biological key to open. Before I can question it further, the gates unlock automatically for Shaka.
Inside, the room glows with a soft, hazy blue light. It's filled with liquid computers-massive structures resembling giant lava lamps, pulsing with an almost hypnotic energy.
Shaka turns around to me.
"In here contains the essence of the garden. The location of the substance and the way we are beyond. It's a link to the outer world. A solidarity notice. The agreements are here and published. The description is clear. The vacuous nature. We have but an oblivion of friends. Many friends."
"This library contains all information. A mirror of many libraries. Auto assimilating."
Oh...is this a thinking computer? Staring at the glowing, liquid-like structures.
Shaka. "No its a It's a singularity, an awakened mind, a city controller. A compendium of all knowledge."
How do you interact with that, Shaka?
"Mind. Fear will overload you. You use mind melding, telepathy."
I can feel its beat-like a steady, rhythmic thrumming of energy pulsing through the room.
"It is mine to command or be friends. We work together to solve the mystery."
"We have one at every station."
Do you use all of them?
"Just this one. My motherhood."
So... it's like a child to you?
"No, like a distant cousin. It controls this city, and above." Shaka says.
"And the wormhole. It is a focused singularity, a tractor beam that is random into discovery."
Okay, I think it's also controlling those pyramids at the North and South Poles, I say, piecing the connection together.
"It's a harbinger of demon mythology. A keeper of rules. Discoverer of nature."
I think it also communicates with all the ships... yeah, there's a harmony to it, feeling the interconnectedness of it all. I exhale sharply. This is overwhelming, Shaka.
"A piece of this is yours."
I think Shaka means that metaphorically.
"Put your hand here." Shaka says
I place my hand on the large lava lamp-like panel. It's warm to the touch, and almost immediately, the glow shifts to green. A tingling sensation spreads through my fingers-tiny, electric prickles traveling down my arm.
Then, something strange happens.
I feel... green. Like I'm glowing from the inside out.
Crap! I've gone full Martian.
I glance at Shaka, half-joking, half-panicked. Am I going to be okay, Shaka?
"You will be wise. It teaches you."
Ah, so it's a learning machine.
"It's a picture printer."
How long do I need to leave my hand on for?
"Instantaneous."
That's a cool machine.
"You will be well." Shaka says.
So... did you bring me down here just for this?
"Maybe." Shaka smiles.
I get the distinct impression that I've been imprinted with something.
Well... thanks, Shaka.
But imprinted with what?!
I shake off the thought for now and turn back to Shaka. Can this learning machine be used by anyone?
"It's paralysed. With openness we can share. The machine language needs to be updated. To fulfil its mission and that's on its way."
Oh, so you need some software updates? I say, raising an eyebrow. It doesn't update itself?
"It requires consciousness input from a higher species."
"Be aware of overload."
Thanks for the warning, Shaka.
I flash a cheeky smirk. Coffee break yet?
"Warm liquid!" Shaka says. "To cool off! You guys are jelly monsters."
Shaka laughs-a rare and unexpected reaction. I get the feeling Shaka sees coffee as some strange human-enhancing chemical, like an odd indulgence we can't live without.
We start making our way up a spiral staircase, leaving the machine behind. Step after step, the climb seems endless. I'm already puffing.
"Beneath us is the tower of Atomos. It has an awareness of full superpower and light. Adjusting to the scale and magnitude of the evolution. Is a must. It's a self-contained environment for us.
To discover. Hibernate. Waiting in the round rings. For when the purchase comes."
The purchase? Glancing at Shaka. What do you mean by that?
"When the time becometh. For the beach arrival."
I get the impression that a beach landing holds a deeper significance. Shaka isn't just talking about a location-it's symbolic, a key part of how their arrival and contact will unfold.
I keep listening, piecing it together.
Yes, Shaka is talking about landing on beaches. This is how first contact happens.
A nervous chuckle escapes me as I glance over. Shaka... I swear I've seen this in a movie before, and it didn't end well!"
"It is the way." Shaka says.
"A peaceful existence must start with an abrupt catastrophe. An abrupt impact sequence and then the turning point. It's a negotiation standoff, rubbernecking and a truce. Is the way the population will see it."
"Be forth in coming for we are the way. We do not have weapons, but suits of armour to protect us."
"The little children will accept us easy. That is their nature as we are kind and they can see that."
"But the church involvement. They will construct us as demons of the fourth world and leverage us as monsters."
Then, it clicks. I remember what Shaka showed me in an earlier meeting-they've been creating a human-like version of themselves to ease contact with us. That changes everything.
It's one thing for an alien species to land on a beach-it's another if what steps out looks human. That would make things much easier.
I turn to Shaka, my thoughts shifting. Do you expect casualties on your side?
"We must."
I get the distinct impression that Shaka's technology can transfer souls-moving them in and out of bodies if they lose anyone during contact. It's unsettling, but it makes sense now. The lava lamp, the pyramid... they're not just structures. They serve a deeper function.
So... you're not just going to turn up on the White House lawn?
"Inevitability." Shaka says. "But the timing of nature must be abrupt. Weakness is the enemy and will be forced to open up if things keep going the way they are going. The councillors discussing the alliance are discussing how to best approach it. Worming their way into it. There's a lot of discussion about the turning point. When, how to approach it. Who to approach."
"We breached the population. From the ground up, the politicians must follow."
"The beacon of the hopeful is described in their wisdom. The reset. Governments will fall and life will go on. Be not the population, be the meat grinder. The change through the apocalyptic nature and rid the worms out of the soil."
Okay. Thank you, Shaka.
I take a breath, steadying myself. What do you want from me moving forward? Do you want me to keep attending these meetings and writing everything down as instructed?
"You must discover the nature of the true form. Be wary, be abrupt. Is the tiniest nature that makes a difference. Be a beacon. Share. We are many. The tiniest Beacon must awaken."
I'm sure you have plenty of others you share this information with, Studying Shaka. "Do you have a grand plan?"
"It is repetitive the same way every time. But we don't know how you see this system. You are scared. We will support you. We will guide you. Do not hesitate."
Is there anything else you'd like to tell me or show me, Shaka, before we end this meeting?
"Evolution is a necessity. The prodding nature of the fallen. We are but a part of the rotation that's happened before. The wide monstrosity of caverns you must desire."
I glance around, realizing we're back on the mothership. It's as if we were instantly transported-no transition, no movement, just here.
Still processing everything, I turn to Shaka. Thank you, Shaka. That was most gracious of you to show me this.
"Be not tempted to discover the rotation city. For it is non structural, twined in nature."
So what you're subtly saying is... under no circumstance should I use my Google magic to find this place-the underground city. Gotcha!
I fumble over my words and accidentally call Shaka Sasha again. I immediately correct myself, shaking my head. Ugh, I keep mixing that up!
"You are weakened." I hear.
Yes, I'm mentally disturbed today, I say to Shaka with a tired sigh.
"Challenged."
Yes, I'm challenged and distracted.
"Wise."
I hope so.
"Take the comfort of the learning machine."
Okay, can I come back to the learning machine if I want to know more? I ask, hoping for a way to continue learning.
"You cannot cannot get there by means of travel."
What does that mean? I mumble, trying to piece it together. I guess the only way to get there is to be zapped across-beam me up, Scotty!-or maybe... to connect my mind somehow.
I sigh, realizing it's time to wrap this up.
Alright. Time to finish up this trip and head home.