Chapter 7 ended as follows:
Health, wealth, safety and peace.
For this to happen all wars must cease.
That’s just one thing, this law will do.
Read it now, this gift for you.
THE PRIME LAW
(The fundamental natural law of protection)
ARTICLE ONE
No person, group of persons, or government, shall initiate force, threat of force, or fraud, against any individual’s self, property, or contract.
ARTICLE TWO
Force is morally and legally justified only for protection from those who violate Article One.
ARTICLE THREE
No exceptions shall exist for Articles One and Two.
Chapter 8 begins…
When Craigniton finished his mission statement put to rhyme, he told everyone that they would find a thick sheet of gold foil — either flat or rolled up – in an envelope attached to the under-carriage of each chair. A flat sheet suggested that the crew member stay at his or her work station. Roll-ups suggested that these crew members move out into the main staging area, and think about what happened to “Chicken Little”. Every single person was quite content either way, because engraved into the gold was the refiner’s certification of 99.99% purity, and a weight of 16 ounces.
As CRAIGNITON vanished from view, sure enough, hundreds of balloons – a multitude of colors glowing with brilliant iridescence — erupted out of the vaulted ceiling high overhead, floating down through the rafters into the eager hands of the jubilant crowd. Every balloon came with another message written around its squeaky tight mid-section: “Hit me hard or tap me light, if you use your foil, you’ve done it right.”
Instead of the expected “pop,” each balloon exuded a nearly inaudible hiss, as it first sagged, doubled over, and then, as the last bit of gas escaped, as if chasing the great Craigniton, it, too, simply vanished; leaving behind a fragrance all agreed they had never smelled before, but would love to again – and a card with a letter and number on it. It wasn’t long before the workers noticed that the same arrangement of letters and numbers in a rainbow of twinkly lights now adorned the studio floor. Put A1 and B2 together, and you have two of the 250 standing next to each other. In such a manner, this alpha-numeric solution was deployed without explanation.
An unknowing outside observer might view the trusting crew members scurrying into the spots designated on their cards, as a large group of passengers getting ready to board a departing plane. Yet these faithful employees gave little thought as to the “why” of it, because they were fully engaged in the game-like fun of it. Once everyone was in position, the lights gave it one last twinkle, and were gone.
…to be replaced by a shrill whistle and the holographic image of the trim, vivacious gal blowing it – overhead — where Craigniton’s image had appeared. A close-up view of her face confirmed how well-matched the bubbly tones and breathtaking features, as she asked all the folks now standing in rows to simply follow the arrows each time they heard her whistle. The first of the following 250 high-pitched cues sent each of those standing to a work station occupied by a comrade intently watching the proceedings. Thusly paired, everyone exchanged names, hugs, job descriptions…while Patty Page’s “Tennessee Waltz,” Debby Reynold’s “Wish I knew,” Doris Day’s “What Will Be, Will Be,” and other nostalgic melodies floated softly amidst the gala gathering.
By the time #250 rolled around, the fourth hour had already flown by – but none let fatigue keep them from enjoying the royal feast that followed…or from wondering if their whistle blowing drill sergeant was “THE ONE.” Amidst such speculation there was nary a groan in the house when our gal from above demurely informed that she would be coordinating the second half of the hug fest on the morrow. After all, those in line still had each other to greet and meet, as did those situated in their work areas.
Despite the added charm of our mysterious young maiden, the regimentation would have been well-received anyway, because oneness ruled here. By enabling all the studio crewmen an opportunity to meet each other close up (eye-to-eye and body-to-body), and to learn first-hand what everyone else was doing, strengthened that shared sense of being one. Those who were notoriously self-conscious and uncomfortable under similar circumstances found even the hugging to be extraordinarily easy.
Many felt that Master Key sits and silences – recommended, demonstrated, and embraced by most as a daily ritual — with the physical, mental, emotional, spiritual clarity resulting – were responsible for this first-in-a-lifetime ability to connect so intimately.
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