A TRAP for a THOUGHT-FORM
a novel in the series
"PLAYING ANOTHER REALITY"
Chapter 37. CASE No. MIGRATION of a SOUL
“In my opinion, it’s a good title for the book ‘Case No. Migration of a Soul’! ” the Guardian exclaimed, taking me under his arm and leading me to the cafe. “Is the author a migrant?”
“Yes, I agree, the title is delightful. Particularly exciting is the question of the case number. What is the number of reincarnation for the same soul?”
“And does the soul itself know the number?” the Guardian grinned, brewing coffee. “Probably, every time for the soul, as well as for a person, it is like No. 1, but in reality it’s already the 44th!”
“The main thing is that the 44th case shouldn’t be identical to the previous 43 ones,” I remarked.
“No, Alice, it won’t,” the Guardian brought me coffee. “Every time, even if the soul walks in a circle, the Matrix gives failures. Some deviations from any scenario are quite normal.”
“I will never believe that the same soul is able to walk in a circle 44 or even 43 times. What kind of stubborn one needs to be to step on the same rake 43 times?!” I tried to imagine such a situation, but I couldn’t.
“Never say never,” the Guardian grinned.
“Do you really think the Matrix is capable of giving failures on its own,” I kept following my thoughts, “or its failures are due to an outside influence?”
“Wow,” the Guardian gave me an appraising look and, stroking my head, smiled, “you’re much cooler than I expected!”
***
The Migrant kept migrating from one corner of the stage to another, and his poems obediently followed him. During the break, after the autograph session, his books successfully migrated to the backpacks and bags of the guests.
I told Roman my nightly dialogue with the Cat.
“According to his words, I should neither think about Death nor fear it, because the Path will be continued in any case, but I need to get out of here…”
“It makes sense,” Roman agreed.
“Do you know what struck me much more? When I said I had only 3 nights left, the Cat clarified, ‘It depends on how to count’. Do you understand? This is clearly a reference to the broken Time here!”
“AND…?” Roman patiently listened to me, but more and more often he seemed to be completely uninterested in how my next book would end after all.
“In a period of 40 nights, when the Blizzard is swirling outside, there is no Death in the Mansion. In general, no Death of any kind for anybody. The Death was not here, is not here and will not be in sight.”
“You said that yesterday. And?”
“This segment is like a record, Roman. Do you understand? You can constantly set and re-play it, in a circle, ad infinitum…”
“It seems to me that any period of Time can be played like that, no?”
“Of course. But… if the Guardian knows for sure that there is no Death in this period, then… we have already passed that period in reality!”
“AND…?”
“Then we are ghosts!”
“Why?”
“Because the Guardian knows that physical Death occurs AFTER the 40th night. Note: my Death. You can know the future 100% only after it has happened, by the fact of some event, because BEFORE that, the Matrix has not a million, of course, but some options! Accordingly, I’m already definitely… Yes? It turns out like this, Roman? However, for some reason, I’m coming back here. As well as the Guardian. Why does he come back? Let’s suppose, he loves the one I look like… Or maybe he sent me to the Other World himself, and now…”
“No… It doesn’t work like that…”
“Why?” I was so tired of thinking that I wanted already to get to the 40th night at the Ball. Or rather, right away in the 41st, at least anywhere, but outside the Mansion, just to throw off my backpack with thoughts of what was happening “here and now”.
Roman hugged me and started rocking me from side to side, calming and lulling at the same time.
“You’ve forgotten the very Beginning. Why did you come here?”
“To leave for the Other World… to Ray…”
“Let’s suppose your original goal has been achieved, and on the 41st day you ended up There, with Ray. Why are you now returning here, looking for the Other World?”
“You mean, what is the purpose of my return?”
“Well, yes… at least, as minimum. You can’t, being a ghost, rewrite the already realized script of your Path. Why would you come back?”
“And as maximum?”
The Guardian, ringing the bell, didn’t allow us to delve into reflections.
“Master?” Roman brought me back to reality.
“Let’s complicate the previous task!”
Task No. 37. ONE DAY PLAN
…Take your plan for a month and imagine that you have only… one day left in This Reality. How would you spend that day? What would you like to do before you leave here?
I lit the candles, took out from the shelf and put in front of me the two volumes of “The Legislator”. Its author, already presented by me in the Mansion, had passed into the Other World immediately after the publication of the work of his life.
“Help me… please,” I said mentally, referring to the author.
And… just a few seconds later his Ghost came out of the mirror.