Has the Colonisation Programme lost its original religious conviction; the high and worthy ideals, the vision, the enduring ethos of the Colonial Orthodox Church replaced by base ambition and avarice? Will the Consciousness of God ever be regained through the Colonisation of the Universe?

Does the ancient practice of Z’Shoka hold a secret, long hidden, almost forgotten; a link to the Consciousness of God?

One man becomes aware of the need to rebalance the power of the Colonial Corporations. Becomes aware that he must risk all that is newly precious to him. Becomes aware of the power of Z’Shoka, and the strength that lies within.

In the frozen wastelands of Gelidus one man’s despair gradually turns to realisation. A realisation that wrongs must be righted. A realisation of an unspoken capability within.  A realisation that all that was believed lost may not be so.

The journey continues in...

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Death had so far turned out to be a very odd experience. Connor had expected more than this, although not really knowing what to expect at all. He was not a religious man, though Ashita had begun to convert him to the ways of Z’Shoka, but even so, he had hoped that his corporeal existence was not all there was to life. A hope surely shared, if not outwardly so, by everybody who has experienced life.  But where was the final revelation, the final answers to the unanswerable questions of existence, the ultimate explanation? Surely death would reveal all; whether heaven or hell waited, surely the meaning of one’s corporeal existence would be laid bare, revealed to all who shed their mortal being.

            An after life would have been so very welcome, it would have afforded him the means to be reunited with Ashita, to perhaps find her within the consciousness of God, but there had been nothing yet. Only what seemed to be a deep enforced sleep, where he drifted in and out of hazy, indistinct dreams which contained scenes recognised from his past, from his time with Ashita and his many experiences in the X-Corps, and scenes unknown to him. There was a very young girl with a lightly tanned complexion, with misty, sea-green eyes, slightly incongruous set against the colour of her skin and her long golden, wispy hair waving across her face in the gentle breeze and the warmest, most natural smile to melt the coldest of hearts. Connor imagined he smiled automatically in response within his dream but he knew not who the child was. She was just a toddler, no more than two standard years old and standing just in front of a strikingly beautiful but petite woman, with silky smooth, raven black hair and high-heeled, shiny, black boots extending above her knees. Connor knew neither of them but somehow wished he did, drawn to both for different but very compelling reasons.

Then they were gone, replaced by red, dark red blood everywhere.

and concludes in...

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Connor lay on his back. He was fully clothed and had drifted off into a fitful sleep. He had let his mind run amok for a while then began sending all his thoughts to his mind-spot, to that point of infinity, that imagined black hole within his mind from which nothing would escape to spoil the peace and tranquillity he needed. The only thought, the only memory he steadfastly refused to despatch was Ashita and his daughter within his wife’s womb. But he had learnt to drift down through Z’Shoka states so intuitively that taking his family with him now seemed quite natural. Connor had gone into level one meditation and then the sleep had washed over him, the demands of his mind and body to recuperate without physical exertion had overwhelmed and he had let the sleep state take him.

Now he dreamed of Ashita. He could see his wife so clearly, sitting in her personal sanctuary atop their villa in Dhuko, so serene and peaceful. Connor imagined or dreamt that she spoke to him, beckoning him to externalise his awareness, leading him out of his own body to experience the world through his mind-senses. Ashita was encouraging him to join with her in the experience. The dream seemed so real, so vivid to Connor that it disturbed him and he pulled himself out of his sleep and followed the voice down through Z’Shoka. He felt the ball of light swell in his mind and then let the awareness out, sensing the essential quantum fabric of the universe around him, searching for the voice, the image of Ashita, looking for his lost love.

“What surprise have you for me, ‘Shruti?” asked Ashok smiling so widely with pleasure at the cheeky, grinning girl. His eyes seemed to moisten with joy at the happiness he experienced when he was with ‘Shruti. It was as if she replaced something in his life that he was missing but he knew not what. Many a time he had discussed his memories or lack of them with Boumijel but he’d always been persuaded to focus forward. Boumijel always preached that the convergence of Takuri and Z’Shoka demanded a single-minded tunnel into the future, past memories became a hindrance to achieving the ultimate joy within the consciousness of God. Ashok had listened but still seemed unsure that this was a deep truth.

Ashruti settled herself onto the sofa, shuffling back so she was comfortably supported by its firm cushioning, “Close eyes now, Uncle ‘Shok,” she ordered with a little giggle.