Black Ceremonies Read Online Free PDF Page A

much to drink, or not enough.” The businessman reached for the decanter. “How about another?”
    “Um, yes, please.” Maitland held out his glass for a refill.
    “So, where’s all this leading?” Hilton topped up their glasses.
    “I’ve been doing some research—” Maitland began, Hilton interrupted with a groan.
    “Oh, for goodness sake, Andrew, don’t tell me you’ve been dabbling with some sort of spiritualism.”
    “No, not spiritualism as such.”
    “A world of charlatans and fools. I don’t know which I despise the more.”
    Maitland’s smile was brief. “Ah, like you, there was a time when I too, would scoff at such things. But that was before—”
    Hilton butted in again, “Oh, come on, Andrew. It’s nonsense. It must be. I mean, haven’t you noticed that everyone who believes in reincarnation has always been someone famous from history? How many of them were Cleopatra or a Roman emperor? Without exception, they have all had previous lives that were glamorous or important. They have been kings and queens, at the very least a Red Indian princess.”
    Maitland smiled again. “You’re exaggerating, Roger. But as I said, I was sceptical myself. Then a colleague told me about a patient of his who claimed to have lived previous lives.”
    “I don’t suppose this was a mental patient was it, old boy?”
    Maitland sighed. “Yes, as a matter of fact it was.”
    “There you are then.” Hilton grinned.
    “I would have put it down to a delusion myself but the patient was so convincing, and quite lucid – well most of the time – a scientist, who specialised in recondite matters.” Maitland shrugged. “I was curious and looked into the matter a bit further.”
    “A lot further by the sound of it.”
    “I read some strange books.”
    “Undoubtedly written by a bunch of cranks.”
    “Then I began to experiment with a drug called Liao.”
    “Liao? I’ve never heard of it. And I’m surprised that you have. I never had you down as someone who would be seduced by this New Age counter culture. You’ve not been seeing someone behind Barbara’s back have you? Having an affair with some young hippie girl?”
    “No, of course not. Barbara and I are very happy together.”
    Hilton hastily apologised. “Of course you are. Sorry, Andrew.”
    Hilton poured fresh drinks. “Well, tell me about this Liao stuff,” he said.
    “It’s an Oriental concoction known to occultists and alchemists.”
    “Ah, the mystic East.” Hilton smirked. “So, what’s it do?”
    “It enables the user to travel in time—”
    “Travel in time?” roared Hilton, interrupting.
    “Not physically of course.” Dr Maitland sighed. “It’s rather difficult to explain the effect.”
    “Try.”
    “Well, I suppose the best analogy would be that it’s a form of astral projection.” Maitland held up a hand to forestall the comment his friend was about to make. “Roger, the how is not really the important thing. What is important is that it works, and I have found that I had lived many other lives.”
    Hilton was about to say something about Indian princesses, but Maitland’s serious expression changed his mind. He decided it was best to humour his friend.
    “All right, suppose I said: prove it to me. Did you bring any of this Liao down here with you?”
    “No.” Maitland shook his head. “You’d take it if I had?”
    “Maybe. Maybe not.” Hilton lit up another cigarette. “You did, and came through it unharmed, didn’t you?”
    “Maybe. Maybe not,” Maitland echoed Hilton’s own words.
    Hilton frowned. “Okay, so how are you going to convince me?” He cut his question short, the rest of it – the words: you haven’t gone mad – remained unspoken.
    “I’m going to tell you about an occurrence that happened when I was not Dr Andrew Maitland but George Prendergast, a soldier …”
     
     
    Before putting it back in his jacket pocket, Private George Prendergast kissed the picture of his sweetheart