The Valhalla Covenant

A welcoming party stood to one side of the hangar. As they emerged, Angus, the citadel director, alerted to the fact that most of the newcomers were effectively homeless, offered to show them to their apartments on the residential level as a first priority.

At the outset, the GI party stood in a tight, almost silent group, but the welcoming committee were friendly and the stylish and comfortable surroundings were reassuring.

Before long, everyone began to relax.

A bold arched doorway, at the other end of the hangar, led, unexpectedly, into an even larger space. Lights of many different types lit the vast cavern sympathetically.

To their right, an amphitheatre of great size with the stage far below, seemed close and intimate even as it lay empty. The glass walled passage through which they walked swept around the back high above it, and every so often passed access points.

“What’s the theatre used for?” Erin asked.

Angus turned, and seeing that Sean was ready to answer, simply smiled.

“Occasionally we put on plays or musical acts,” he replied, “but primarily we use it for the dissemination of new technology or ideas. This is our main meeting place — the heart of the mountain, if you will.”

“It’s beautiful,” she replied. “I shouldn’t want to missing anything that went on there.”

Within the next chamber, the gardens, seating and informal lighting made it plain that this was the place for social relaxation.

At the far end, the generous flow of a natural underground stream fell spectacularly from a protruding buttress of rock over several other well-positioned natural shelves. Below that, a wide fern adorned pool yielded the stream to another fall that disappeared into a deep rift in the rock. It all contributed to a stunning picture, but the sound of the water in the cavern was the most remarkable element. Atmosphere, here, seemed to have been deliberately cultivated.

“Magnificent,” breathed Cameron, who had only recently been recovered from a regional police lockup back in New South Wales.

Held, after being recognized by a mobile facial recognition unit at a rural fair in her hometown of Bathurst, she’d been rescued only minutes before transfer to the city and almost certain foul play. Awe, admiration and gratitude were evident in her voice.

“I thought it’d be little more than a bunker — dusty and rough hewn with equipment laying all over the place — not a palace like this,” she continued in wonder.

“It’s a place for all types of people,” said Sean, “as long as they’re creative in some way. To be sure, we’ve worked long and hard on it but there’ll always be plenty of room for improvement. Things aren’t that important in themselves, but creating them is a legitimate channel for imaginative expression, so don’t feel shy about making your mark. After all, it’ll be just as much your home as it is to any of us.”

“If the whole complex is like this, you might as well call it an underground city,” Jos granted, apparently in agreement with Cameron.

“It will be, from now on,” Angus agreed. “Up until now, there have been too few in residence to call it a city.”

“How many?” Sasha asked.

“A hundred give or take.”

“So few? We are only fifty-two, but the chaos at home will yield many more of value who should be protected.”

“There are several hundred more of us on the outside,” Angus reassured her.

“How many could you accommodate here?” Reimas asked.

“Near a thousand, as things stand, but it could be significantly more.”

“Despite such capacity, you do seem to have kept to yourselves.”

“Suspicion, my friend, is a double-edged sword.”

“That must change,” said Reimas. “Our plan is to grow, is it not?”

“True,” Angus agreed, “there’s a great need ahead of us, a need that has impacts on both our community and the world at large, but that need is primarily a spiritual one.”

Reimas gave a single nod and said:

“I’m glad you see it that way. We’ve discovered it’s the only way to see the right way ahead.”

“We’ve always known that the foundation of things is critically important, but none of us were sure that we had it right — not right enough to bring rapid growth into the equation. That’s one of the main reasons why we chose the Institute as our principal ally.

“As soon as we saw the way things worked in the Institute, and its relationship with the Little River, we knew it was time.”

Reimas turned and gripped his hand. His candid admission of their value was a good opener.

Much of the detail of Reimas’s recent contact with the mysterious Vezarin had in fact preceded the party’s arrival and there was understandable interest in the matter throughout the citadel.

“Our achievements, also, have frequently been the product of considerable co-operation,” he responded, “yet I’ve found that the most remarkable advances came from direct appreciation of consciousness itself, and that can only be an individual undertaking. The old order rules the world like drunken pirates, and by comparison has little appreciation for individuality — either its needs or its value, but in these matters we will shine.”

The Valhalla crowd expressed their support for his statement in what was for them loud and appreciative unison. All were in fact very glad that their new ally seemed not to be a simple action hero with limited pretensions to understanding.

Reimas, in turn, was reassured.

“Naturally, we can’t ignore material things,” he continued, “but we also need to keep sight of the key elements that make life worthwhile. There are urgent tasks that need to be done and there always will be, but if the only way we can engage with such tasks is in the absence of a basic sense of happiness, we’ll have got it all wrong.”

Knowing there was no time to waste, Reimas felt little reluctance about launching straight into clearly defining the fundamentals. They were all in this fight together and it served no one to walk in company without any exchange of thought. He was also very well aware that this was a key moment in the evolution of the alliance and had every intention, from the outset, to make his basic philosophy clear.

From his frequent dealings in the field with chaotic and painful side of peoples’ lives, he understood how important and even how productive it was to enjoy every day with conscious appreciation, and he intended to press the matter sufficiently to understand exactly how far his new allies had come up that road.

Sasha, with her acute artistic clarity, had brought the crucial importance of the matter home to him and the Vezarin had confirmed it.

“We do keep busy,” Angus responded, leading them through a further transparent tube walkway high above what appeared to be an advanced engineering section, “but I’m sure you’ll find we’re ready to enjoy the finer things in life as well. Our citadel is certainly equipped with that in mind.”

“You can expect me to hold you to that, my friend. In any case, given your interest in the astral, no doubt you’ll understand the importance of the sorts of mind states that can lead to experiencing it.”

Angus raised his eyebrows expectantly.

“Of course.”

“We’ve discovered that one of the most crucial things is a profound sense of personal comfort.”

“I’m not sure I understand. Do you mean relaxation?”

“Not exactly,” Reimas replied. “I can only say that being reminded as regularly as possible of the miracle of existence will go along way towards achieving it, and the cultivation of an interesting, provocative and delightful atmosphere does much to close the deal.”

“Existential appreciation and deep relaxation — I can see the correlation.”

“No, not relaxation, but comfort. I feel there’s a qualitative difference.”

Angus paused a moment and nodded thoughtfully

“Oh yes, I see — the latter perhaps being a deeper, more comprehensive state.”

“Yes, and the appreciation of desires fulfilled, however small each one might be, feeds it — accentuates it, which in turn provides a good springboard for the exploration of the higher mind. After all, life, to any waking mind, must be worthy of respect as being nothing less than the ultimate miracle, given that no one has the least idea of how it came into being.”

“I don’t think we’ve ignored such matters here, but I can’t say that any of us have thought the cultivation of atmosphere was significant in quite that way.”

Reimas turned to Sasha, beside him, and smiled.

“Neither did I until recently. It helps to have a good resident artist in tow, especially one with such a great sense of purpose.”

“You came up with the notion?” Angus asked, turning to her.

“The atmosphere of a place is the expression of peoples’ will that things be a certain way — the way they wish them to be,” she affirmed. “It has power partly because the effects, having been well considered, are beautiful, but also because of the causal effects of the deep thought that led to the expression of such beauty.”

“Because they were committed to systematic thought in the fulfilment of their desires?”

“You’re a quick study.”

Several of the Valhalla people smiled and made inaudible comments to each other, but none were negative. Most heard her in appreciative silence. To such vital, thinking minds the exchange of useful observations was a source of interest, even pleasure.

While most of the GI people had become accustomed to the open discussion of such things recently, many were still surprised by the ready acceptance and comprehension with which they were received amongst the Valhalla people.

“It should be no surprise to us that such expression of spirit could affect us for the better,” a youngster called Ben said, after an extended silence, “given the fact that our very existence is, indeed, such a miracle.”

“It’s beyond all comprehension that anything should exist at all,” Reimas concurred, meeting his eyes with interest, “let alone ourselves — so complex, expressive and beautiful. What single objective purpose of worth, then, could our physical existence fulfil, other than the manifestation and growth of consciousness itself?”

“We make a comfortable chair to sit in,” Ben elaborated, “but what is its point if we can’t enjoy our own thoughts while we’re in it?

Reimas grinned at the analogy.

“As it is with every material thing, up to and including a plentiful income,” he affirmed. “It comes from the world and must serve the world well or it dooms itself.”

“And of what value are the products of consciousness if consciousness can’t even appreciate itself?”

Ben and most of the others of the carefully selected Valhalla welcoming committee, many of them under forty, appreciated Reimas’s pro-active approach to establishing philosophical groundwork.

Angus, however, was an engineer and, although he found the ideas stimulating, he came from the standpoint that these were ideas most appropriately expressed in a tavern or over a meal.

Where he felt that philosophy was a pleasurable pastime, the younger generation understood the critical importance of this rising star immediately setting a flame to the ready combustibility of their spirits.

“I’m sure we’ll consider such matters in depth given time,” Angus said eventually, perhaps to mask his own uncertainty about what was happening. “Those in our Conventicle will be most interested.”

“There’s no need to stand on ceremony with me,” said Reimas, asserting a blunt presumption of authority straight away, to the astonished gratification of all those young men who might well not have found themselves in the consideration of that august body for at least another two decades.

Sean, he could be sure of, but any subtle contest from anyone else over psychological supremacy could not be ignored. Others less competent might seek to contest it and any seemingly fair-minded concession to their power play would, in the end, only be a waste of time and resources.

“I need you to all understand that our fundamental standpoint in this battle is a primary issue,” he continued, “and has to be immediately addressed. After the mess the world has gotten itself into, we cannot make the mistake of again ignoring the fundamental drivers that affect us.”

As they neared the end of the elevated transparent access tube, Angus cast his eyes around his colleagues and was surprised to see such complete accord. Raising his eyebrows a little, he looked back at Reimas and gave way with a small but significant nod of the head.

“The fact is,” Reimas said, resuming his speech, “we’ve been driven hard for so long that we don’t really know why we do things. If we’re to be truly fulfilled, we’ll have to allocate enough energy to considering all the fundamental poles of life. Perception and expression, work and play, thoughts and feelings, things and spare time. If you truly encompass these things the astral will be open to you.”

After a moment of introspection, Angus nodded approvingly.

“You remind me of the educational theorist, Ivan Illich,” he observed. “‘Man must choose whether to be rich in things, or in the freedom to use them’, he said, but there’s little doubt in my mind that he meant they should be in the right proportion.”

“I believe you have it. The point is, if we put ourselves forward as the solution for humanity but fail to appreciate the essential standpoints for a better life, we will, sooner or later, put our feet wrong with terrible consequences.”

His meaning could not be clearer in the end, and all around knew that things would be changing.

From the elevated tube, they entered a new chamber about one third the size of the largest so far — a central lobby for the main residential areas of the complex. Light and airy, like a modern art gallery, it featured a wide walkway spiralling up around a wall that was, in fact, adorned with art.

Every wall of the lobby had a grand arched doorway. One led to a social recreation area where every conceivable type of exercise could be indulged, other than truly outdoor sports. Smaller rooms catered for people wishing to talk in smaller groups, and facilities were laid on for making or listening to music. Theatres, games rooms, a library, kitchens, dining rooms and a dance hall completed the picture.

The main operations complex lay beyond the second grand doorway. It included internal and external comms rooms, news and publicity services to supply fronts like Zephyr with material for sanctioned outlets, a strategic planning room and the security-grid control room. Next to that lay the section housing the internal air and water storage, filtration and distribution systems.

Angus led the party of GI people, now completely awed by the vast size of the underground complex, through the eastern doorway into the residential areas, and guided them, along several convoluted passages, to the living quarters.

At intervals, prettily planted and ornamented patios lay outside the entrances to stylish and well appointed private dwellings, most of which were available.

Sasha almost immediately saw exactly what she wanted from across a wide, pool like section of the underground stream. All she saw was a pretty, elevated balcony overlooking the pool and, with a little cry of ecstasy, ran around it to take a closer look.

Reimas selected a large apartment, nearby, occupying several levels. Timber floors and round corners gave the apartments a pleasant organic feel, and in the case of Reimas, the large semi-circular lounge in his looked inviting.

For the rest of the afternoon, each settled into their own space, and experimented with the visual intercom system connecting all the rooms, until a demur voice in soft female tones announced dinner.