390 | John W. Warner IV Eight-sided star-shaped towers with translucent pinnacles atop lined the way to what seemed like the central portion of the metropolis. In the distance, a large pyramid shaped building loomed, and Bea followed the leading ships onto a multi-kilometer- long landing ground where craft of all shapes and sizes were parked in rows alongside polished pink granite obelisks. She touched down behind where the sphere-ships had landed. All stop. Shambala everyone, passports please. The film was partially correct, the temple complexes on the hills do look a lot like Lhasa, said Gerlach, referring to Lost Horizons. Schafer said the yak butter tea was horrendous. Mind the gap. Bea led the party down the front stairs. Coming at her was a large group of Agarthans; tall people with pale blue skin, short ones that looked vaguely African, and Tibetans by the score in hats of every color, shape, and size, adorned with voluptuous robes with bedazzling patterns of silk and unknown fabrics. Horns fifty feet long blew strong notes of welcome. Well Ill be a drunken Brewer Street harlot…Kunchen! Alice mumbled: Tve no doubt upon your occupation in a former life. Bea was so excited she didnt hear the usual slur du jour. She was just so happy to see a friendly face from her Shieldmaiden days that wasnt a Nazi SS psychopath or mad scientist. Kunchen smiled and bowed, his yellow hat the largest amongst them. He spoke telepathically and clearly in her head. It is agreeable that we meet again, Uta. We must gather in the sun temple, for the council wishes to meet with you and your compatriots. Your arrival is an unexpected surprise. So nice to see a familiar face? she said silently with a smile. Oh, we were so lost? Whos this chap? A friend? asked Alice. Bea kissed him on the cheek. Oh, he was my instructor at the school alongside Ernst, Herr Kunchen. A friend, a Tibetan monk. Ask him about Bernie and Schafer, where are they? said Gwafa, bowing to the dignified group which was doing the same. Why are some of these people pale blue? Probably the effects of the artificial sun, said Gerlach, looking up at an eight- foot-tall woman with small delicate features, a bald head, and large ears. She smiled and winked at him, her cat-like eyes bright green. I hope. Porsche put palms together and bowed, repeated the greeting: Namaste sab-