See, Zadek, my son, all time is no time.

Standing on the whiteness as if upon clouds, albeit clouds they were not, but whiteness of Spirit – a material light on the threshold of entering physicality, ready for it, but impatient not; so standing there, Zadek glanced at the star-strewn sky, knowing it was a mind-image, a translation into what he could understand, for this was a streak of existence quite apart from what lay beyond the gateways of merging space and time.

And the ease in his mind and his chest came upon him as a soothing breeze, for he was simultaneously all of this place and a small part of it. It came to him to ask,

"Where will I go, when this is done?"

Your cycles of becoming are never-ending, said Omiran, but if you want an answer, look into your future and decide for yourself.

Instantly he accessed one of the Time-bands and travelled along it at the speed of his mind, at some point deciding a stairway in luminous paces that slowed him down enough for an image of himself to emerge and gain in broadness until it occupied all of his view.

He was older, indeed, his ear-long, curly hair that had once been black, now a mix of silver and dark grey. It was as if seeing through the surface of a river, for his awareness must remain solidly and firmly where he was; thus he focused his older self into better view, reaching out in thought and in essence, reaching out in feeling and emotion, reaching out in I-know-you-although-you-do-not-know-me. And he was glad to know himself on that level, he rejoiced in seeing his wrinkles and his golden clock-wheels eyes, a tad more luminous, perhaps, and vastly more serene.

His older self was sitting behind a wooden desk in a comfortably-looking study, books-filled shelves on the walls around, spare where there were elements of decor and alcoves with paintings. A carpet covered the floor under his feet and desk and all the way to the glass-wall, its doors ajar, white, transparent curtains flowing in the mild wind.

He stepped onto the carpet and the floor.

Be watchful not to interfere, advised Omiran.

His older self was reflecting, his gaze faraway, his left hand upon a large book he was reading, and noticing not –

He stirred, his sight acuter, and he perused the room.

Omiran felt close and ready to intervene. Step back, he warned, and Zadek lifted his awareness back to mere sight, thus removing himself from the proximity of his older self.

I wish to remain a while longer, he asked Omiran.

Very well, his Maker retorted.

The now-watching-sequence-Zadek was observing the now-being-watched-sequence-Zadek, and for an instant, they both smiled. Perfect sync.

Does he know?

He remembers.

I have just added this episode to his knowledge, haven't I?

Omiran, though non-physical Presence, seemed to smile. Corresponding wealth of insight is available both ways, for this is you and that.

What do you mean?

Observe and learn.

Omiran's favourite sentence – so dear to his own heart. I will.

The older Zadek appeared to have gone from seeking answers through reflection to scanning Time-bands in an agile glance. He knew something that felt familiar was near. Leaning forward, forearms upon the book, he listened and he watched.

Do you want to meet yourself? Omiran asked. He's guessed your presence – still unconfirmed – and is inquiring.

Do I have the stamina it takes?

He sensed rippling currents flooding his being in a steady, gentle way. He nodded, and his steps once more touched the floor and the carpet, and soon he felt the breeze upon his skin. Fresh mountain air. The Dorad Valley, came an intuitive knowing.

Still invisible to his elder self's eyes, their two Time-bands were infinitesimally near.

Speak, encouraged Omiran. That way, you'll know.

"I am here," he spoke aloud, and his older self's head turned swiftly to the door. "In front of you."

Intense pathways scans and a vivid expression almost caught his gaze and met eye to eye. His older self was searching, on some level knowing, deeply aware, yet not exactly seeing.

"Glad to meet you," the now-2-moment-Zadek responded. "Whenfrom do you come?"

"Planet B-17," said the now-1-moment-Zadek, the youngster.

"Ah," the older Zadek nodded, leaned back in his chair and smiled.

"I am you."

A broader smile. "That I had no doubt of; though technically speaking, I am you, for I'm farther ahead in Time. Is that right?"

Omiran was answering them both, but neither could hear what the other was being told.

"Sit down," said the elder, "and ask me anything."

"I have no immediate curiosity."

A pensive gaze towards a seemingly-empty chair. "You don't know what to ask, that is to say," concluded the now-2-moment-Zadek. "Alright. Then I'll ask you." A fleeting silence; then, "Have you met Lera yet?"

The now-1-moment-Zadek tried to discern his older self's feelings connected to that name. "No," he replied.

The elder nodded. "Isn't it strange how on this most outstandingly significant encounter of you and I... I and I... me and myself – call it whatever; we don't know what to ask?"

"What should I know about Lera?"

The now-2-moment-Zadek laughed. "Patience. Don't rush. Enjoy the discovery of it all in its own, appropriate Time."

"You speak like Omiran."

"More so than you think, for Omiran I am."

"07?"

"Don't rush."

"My curiosity got you where you are," said the younger, and the elder laughed again.

"It also put a lot of trouble in my lap. Drink?"

The younger Zadek laughed in response. "It is a nice place you have here."

"It is, indeed." A luminous glance around at the room. "There's another one, too," he revealed, gazing back at the seemingly vacant chair. "A choice-ribbon."

The now-1-moment-Zadek nodded in understanding. "An important decision and a two-way trajectory-"

"Resulting in simultaneously lived-in experiences," the elder completed.

"A dual-band."

"All acts of existence are simultaneously experienced both vertically and horizontally on the axes of Time."

"All truths amass into a single Truth."

The elder smiled. "All choices form a path-"

"That we must live."

A smile. "I was a smart guy even then."

A moment's silence. "What do you feel now?" the young man inquired.

A serene smile as the elder Zadek turned to gaze into himself and was quiet for a while. "I feel whole; a little unnerved as to what my wholeness even means, now that I have my younger self – equally whole, I suppose – sitting almost now in my chair." A soft sigh, a deeper look. "I feel grateful for this opportunity, to you, to Omiran"–he gestured vaguely ahead–"I feel..."

Silence.

"I feel as though I should somehow wrap my arms around you and be a host to you now." He lowered his head and nodded. "Omiran disagrees. He thinks you're you and I'm I, and that we're both Zadek. You ask difficult questions," he added, this time nearly gazing his younger self straight in the eyes.

"Who's Lera?"

A joyful laughter. "Don't cheat. Make your own choices."

Again in unintentional sync, the two gazed around them at the room. The now-2-moment-Zadek heard his unexpected guest laughing, so he asked him why.

"We're more in sync than I believed."

"Is that so?"

"It is," the young Zadek replied. "And I like who I've become."

"Perfect. Come back anytime and tell me that often."

Time to go, transmitted Omiran.

Wait, please, asked the young Zadek, at the same time noticing the fact that his older self had also become aware of the impending departure, and for the briefest instance, they both seemed to rapidly want to express a million thoughts all at once.

How would it feel? the young one then asked Omiran, looking at his older self's hands upon the book. Am I allowed?

Try and feel, said Omiran.

Young Zadek lifted his hand and reached out towards his older self's hands, and he felt a surge in emotion, tears in his eyes, clock-brain prevalence at its height, producing vast amounts of data all rolling in, wilfully unheeded at the time; and as fingers approached the surface of his older self's skin, both felt electron circuits travelling at fast rates all through their bodies; the elder's minuscule skin hairs on the back of his hand responding a moment before being touched by the tips of Zadek's fingers.

Both had their eyes suddenly in tears that would not fall, and they both whispered indecipherably to Omiran.

Elevated as if from the chest up, the young Omirion left the study and the older self within it, as the two Time-bands were being pulled away, and he was back along that Timeline, climbing back the stairs, backwards at full speed, back to the threshold of white near-physicality and starry sky ahead, then back to his quarters aboard the vessel Umbar.

He opened his eyes and looked at his fingertips.