The Wall Crossers

31 Dec 1971 - Asterposing Patrizia Becker at Doctor Peters' Silvesterparty

Elisa's perspective

It is the last evening of the year, and I am at Dr. Peters' Silvesterparty (New Year's Eve party), awaiting Patrizia. She does not know I await her... she does not even know me.

Anja is not yet here either. It is possible she might recognize me; however, I am dressed in party finery, with hair up like all the other women, and bright raiment. She will not see me, but, if she does, she will never know who I am—the one she might possibly remember from the Grunewald, that day in July.

Sterne vortäuschend (literally to English would be feigning stars; but we call it Asterposing). It is a gift. It is a practiced intuitive implement of one mind—over another. It is easy to place a memory into the mind of another—or a vision—or a command. Easy... if you are me, or Leida, or Lizet someday... when she is with us. It is better face-to-face, but can be from distance. I did this, with Anja. In June, I called her at her desk at work. I Asterposed her for that future July day in the park—me, the blue stone. I Asterposed Olivia for the stone, the ring, the poem, the stars—that night... that first night she was with Leida.

Leida was never trained. She has the natural ability, but not the learned wisdom—expertise. I saw this right away, and shortly after she became mein Schützling Geliebte (my protégé loved one)! She became the path—to the gifted one.

I need Patrizia to help me. To keep Olivia from departing Berlin without Leida. Patrizia is... an agent of deceit. But... she is also an agent of guardianship. Although I am confident that Olivia will take Leida to New York, Patrizia and her network of watchers will help me safeguard this plan, in case, as happens with so many love affairs between a German girl and a soldier, Olivia decides to run away.

It is very difficult to reach Olivia directly... her line is screened.

As I watch the door, I see Patrizia enter. Her hair is down... unlike all the other party women here. She stands out in so many ways. Right away, as I effortlessly draw her to me, she makes eye contact, and comes straight over my way, after handing her dark gray overcoat to an attendant. She is wearing a white, gray and lavender embroidered lace gown and large green loop earrings.

Patrizia steps to me and stops two feet away, begins to search my eyes, but then experiences a sudden slight jolt and becomes very still. I have that effect.

I have very little time to do this before she is recognized and someone interrupts us.

I shift my eyes out of focus as they rest on hers, and, with closed mouth, I utter a low scratchy hum, like a tiny insect, or static on a telephone call, for only a few seconds, pressing my left hand firmly against my Lapis Lazuli stone, cocooned close to my bosom in an inner hidden pocket. I feel my heartbeat through the stone. All background sound and motion and thinking fade to null. I bring my thoughts to calm and envision certain stars of asterisms (small group of named stars from different constellations) and especially Vega of constellation Lyra and its power to charm even rocks and Altair of constellation Aquila whose sky warrior has thunderbolts to stop anything, even time—where time has a stop and the adept psychic can charm anyone at need, and these become plainly present to my need: the three stars of the summer triangle asterism—Vega, she the one, bright, big, hot, blue-white, sensitive, very close... just 25 light years away; Deneb and Altair receding on red light shifting; Deneb the head of the Northern Cross asterism, the celestial princess, the most distant bright star in Earth's sky, lying thousands of light-years away; Altair, the twelfth brightest star in the night sky, actually a binary star. Yes! All answerable to me right now, and to my Asterposing of this girl before me.

I murmur, "Schätze das Soldatenmädchen Olivia. Erlaube ihr nicht, Berlin allein zu verlassen (Protect/Treasure the soldier girl Olivia. Do not allow her to leave Berlin alone)."

My whispery Asters pose in echoed knells, assuming a sign of clappers deep within dark wells, as my power compels and to you my visage swells, events and works you will align to what each word impels.

The girl, Patrizia, is frozen into a time not of her choosing, which slows, crawls, stops. She, staring, unblinking at me, as I hold my breath, my life flow, my heartbeat as slow as time's tick, until... until... until... until... until I breathe again and then... she breathes, awakes, blinks, shows life, and nods to show assent.

The background revelry resumes, my Lapis fades... that tool to ward off the attacks of psychics becomes tenfold, one thousandfold, in power in the very hands of an attacking psychic! One like me.

I leave her, softly, quietly, as a shadow, against the wall.

Patrizia's perspective

I felt dizzy when I first entered the room. Somehow, I have crossed the room, avoiding everyone, and yet cannot recall those seconds. But I am feeling better, leaning here lightly now against this smooth ballroom wall. I look at it, seeing every tiny imperfection. My mind feels incredibly strong and clear. Music, laughter, dancing, joy, enveloping me now in their party. Annelie and her sister Rachel see me, come to me quickly, smiling, Annie saying, "Oh, Patrizia! Where have you been? Come on! We must greet the guest protectors now!"

I say nothing. Rachel leans closer, peering at me, says, "Patrizia, are you alright? You look as though you've seen a ghost!"

I shake my head quickly and use my left elbow to push away from the wall, helping me stand straight, collecting myself. I give her a wan smile. I clear my throat and say, "I... I'm okay." Now I feel stronger and strengthen my voice, "I'm better now. Yes, let's go!" I go with them, saying nothing further, and we line up in a small group of greeters.

Ahead, at the front of the line, I see them: Anja, the object of my professional scrutiny, the reason I am surreptitiously here, and now, Olivia! I remember from our brief analysis of her: she will be departing Berlin, and soon. But, as I gaze on her, I feel the swoon recur. I stagger a bit, take hold on Rachel, she sucks in air sharply, surprised! "Are you certain you are alright?" I reply, looking at her, "Ja."

I turn my gaze back to the soldier girl, unaware of me, not yet—but I already know this much: I want her. A treasure to possess, to hold, to taste. The craving wells up within me, a deep pulse in my chest, akin to the thrill of an investigation drawing to its conclusion, the final, elusive piece falling into place. But this is no ordinary case. This is different. This is her. And I will have her.

The desire burns hotter with each passing second, intoxicating, irresistible. A force beyond mere want—a need that gnaws at the edges of my being, an unspoken vow. Tonight, I decide, with every ounce of my superior will. Tonight, the pursuit begins. And I will not stop, not until she is bound to me, one way or another.

Olivia will not leave Berlin. Not without me. Not without my permission.

I can feel the pull of it now, a primal instinct rising from the depths, guiding me like an unseen hand. It whispers that I must keep her close. She will not escape—not until I have quenched this fire, not until she's mine, completely. And I trust this instinct. It's never wrong.

She will stay in Berlin because I say so. She will stay with me.

As we near the two, I can observe Olivia more closely. Her youth strikes me. I might need Geena's assistance to get close to her, to win her trust. Yes, Geena is steadfast, immune to any temptations, and I can rely on her. But first, I'll take this one myself. Then, we shall see what we shall see.