As I watched this immense, crimson sun rising, I noticed yet another curious thing—a web of thin threads suspended in the sky somewhere between the sun and myself. These threads were clearly visible against the red sun, and then when I looked elsewhere in the sky I saw that they were faintly visible from one horizon to the other, as if the entire world were trapped in the vast web of a spider.
I had little time to ponder the impossibility of such a notion, for I began moving, flying perhaps ten yards above the ground. The swirling pools of water passed by below me, gradually at first, but then I flew faster and faster until they passed by in a bewildering blur. I looked ahead, and in the distance I saw a thin, pale line that stretched from the ground all the way up to the heavens. I was sure this was a portion of the vast web that filled the sky far above me, somehow connecting it to the ground. The pale line grew in size as I flew closer to it, until what I had thought was a thin vertical line turned out to be an immense white, cylindrical tower several miles in diameter. I had never dreamed that such a structure could be built and could not imagine what it was that prevented the tower from collapsing under its own weight and falling to the earth. And to my bewilderment, there were other such towers visible in every direction, so far away that they appeared as long threads stretching straight up until they vanished into the heavens.
Before I had time to fully appraise the vastness of the tower before me, I flew into a wide corridor leading to its interior. This corridor bustled with activity, and at first I thought it was filled with people, walking to and fro on their daily business, as crowded as Oxford Street in London. However, I soon determined that they were not people at all, but rather some type of creature that walked with a very different posture. They carried themselves in a nearly horizontal state, with two legs at the posterior and one much thinner leg near the anterior end, which seemed to stiffen with each step and support the creature’s entire weight as the two rear legs swung forward, thus making progress as if using a crutch. I could discern little else regarding their anatomical structure, as I passed by them too swiftly, but it was clear they were unlike any creatures I had ever seen. This was quite bewildering to me, particularly when considering the fact that they moved about with apparent intelligent purpose.
I found the corridor itself to be of interest, as the walls were of a peculiar white material that seemed to emit its own light, thus illuminating the entire hall in a most pleasing way. I continued moving through the long corridor toward the tower’s interior, but I saw that it was joined to many lateral corridors, all of them brimming over with the strange creatures walking with purpose to unknown destinations.
Just when I began to think the corridor might lead me entirely through the tower to the opposite side, the hall gave way to the hollow center of the tower, which was a sight beyond all comprehension. The tower was a vast cylinder, projecting forever upward, and I dare say that the hollow interior was at least two miles across and could have held a small city within it. The inner wall of the cylinder was riddled with innumerable balconies and doorways, where more of the creatures could be seen moving about. Each doorway glowed with its own unique color of light, which when gazed upon from a distance created a beguiling pattern of luminous colors that gradually faded into the distance along the inward curving wall of the enormous cylinder.
The most staggering vision yet came to me when I turned my gaze upward. So tall was the tower that the wall, twinkling with the colored lights of its doorways, gradually receded into the distance and finally appeared as nothing more than grey mist, as if looking into distant fog. The most striking sight to behold, however, was the vast number of objects flying about in this space. I ascertained that the objects were vessels of some sort, as I saw the three-legged creatures entering and exiting them on the ground floor and on the balconies. The flying vessels were perfectly spherical, and like the doorways, they each glowed with their own particular color. However, it was the extraordinary number of them, and the rapid and haphazard manner in which they flew that I found to be so bewildering. As I gazed upward into the atmosphere of the tower, the flying vessels resembled a swarm of thousands of fireflies of every possible color, flying about such that they must surely collide, causing great harm to the passengers within them. However, no such collisions seemed to occur.
By this time I had become convinced that these visions were much more than a mere dream, as even at my most imaginative and intellectual moments I could never have conceived of such magnificent and mystifying products of industrial achievement. These visions were being shown to me, as if some grand being with power equal to that of God Himself wished for me to witness them. Further evidence that these visions were arranged and intentional was provided by the fact that each time I was presented with a sight requiring some time to observe and ponder the significance, my flying motion stopped as if to allow this. Thus, having paused just so long as needed for my appraisal of the tower’s grand interior, I began flying upward.
I cannot say what distance may have passed as I rose swiftly up the tower, other than that it was many miles. And still the endless balconies bustled with the activities of thousands of inhabitants. It confounded my mind to attempt to comprehend the size of the structure and the population it held within it, particularly considering that I had seen additional such towers in the distance before entering this one.
Finally, after what seemed to be many minutes of rising upward, I abruptly changed direction and entered another horizontal corridor, which had the same appearance and bustling of occupants as the first one. This corridor, however, led me back out to the tower’s exterior. Upon exiting the tower, I saw that I was higher above the ground than any man had ever been. The ground was so far below that I could discern no features other than the largest bodies of water and mountains. And above, rather than the pink sky that I had previously observed, was a black sky filled with stars. And still the tower extended far above me as I continued rising upward beside its exterior surface. Finally I saw the tower’s lofty summit. Its top was joined to the vast web of horizontal threads I had seen from far below. From my position I could see three of these threads attached to the distal end of the tower. The angles of these three threads suggested to me that there were three more I could not see extending from the other side.
As I neared the top of the tower, it became apparent that each of the horizontal threads of the web was as large in diameter as the tower itself. Again I wondered how such mass could be held so high above the world without falling and crashing to the ground.
At last I flew above the tower’s summit and changed direction again. Flying toward the center of the enormous circular roof, I saw something remarkable happening there. A cloud of tiny particles slowly rose from the tower’s roof and disappeared into the starry heavens. But as I drew nearer, the particles were larger than I had thought. They were in fact each of them several feet in diameter, and they were flying from hundreds of openings in the tower’s arched roof. I finally came to rest beside one of these openings. A platform slowly appeared out of the hole, and upon it was something I recognized. It was a lump of clay, exactly like that which I had encountered in the village of my captors.
Suddenly, by some hidden mechanical operation below, the platform was thrust upward by a pole to which it was attached, thus tossing the object with considerable force toward the stars above.
The last I remember of this most extraordinary vision was watching as the lump of clay continued flying into the heavens among thousands of others that were being released in a similar way.
That was the vision that appeared to me in the night. I may refer to it as a dream, for want of a better word, but I do not believe I was truly sleeping during the process. I have written this in an attempt to better understand it. Perhaps you will draw a different conclusion than I have. However, at this time, after contemplating all that I have recently witnessed and experienced, and assuming that the wondrous visions were not merely dreams of my mind’s creation, I can think of no b
etter explanation than the following. The lump of clay present in this village is not a natural phenomenon of this world. Instead, it originated on another world, upon which exists a civilization far greater than that of modern men. Like the other industrial achievements of this greater civilization, the lump of clay possesses properties that bewilder the intellect of a man such as myself, as I am certain it would of any other man of this world.
You may conclude that a place of vast towers rising into the heavens must surely be the Kingdom of God. I must disagree. This is not to say that I believe God does not exist, however I must acknowledge that the grand achievements often attributed to God’s hand are stories created by the minds of men. These stories, although they inspire and stir the intentions of innumerable civilized people, are of acts, beings, and objects that are incorporeal and nonmaterial. On the other hand, the achievements of industry I have seen in my visions are physical structures built by corporeal beings. I now believe that somewhere in the heavens is a world where these astonishing structures exist, and I intend to learn whatever I can of the mysterious lump of clay that originated there.
The second event that changed the way I view the world occurred in the morning, following the aforementioned vision. Upon awaking I was quite pleased to discover that my health had continued to improve. I still felt no pain in the areas of my injuries, and I had retained the capability to recall every past moment of my life. It is scarcely possible to overstate the pleasing benefits of this last condition, as I believe I could be quite content to sit alone for days as I recall in great detail all that I have ever learned and previously forgotten. I do not know for certain to what specific ingredient I owe for this astounding capability, but I now suspect all of my health benefits are a result of laying my hands upon the object that now occupies my thoughts and dreams, the mysterious lump of clay. If I could take this object into my possession and somehow transport it out of this primeval forest and back to London, I can only imagine how it might change that civilized society. If it could benefit others as it has me, then the medical profession would be greatly transformed. Likewise would the profession of education be transformed, as students would retain all that they read and all that they hear spoken.
As if the natives could sense my thoughts lingering on the lump of clay, Sinanie, Matiinuo, and two others came to my hut in the morning and took me again to confront it. I was forced at spear point to descend the ladder and walk to the same clearing where I had been savagely maimed three days before. The lump of clay was then carried out in the same manner as before and placed on the ground before me.
I looked around at the dozen or so Papuan natives gathered there. At first I thought all of them were men, but then I saw one woman. She was standing partially hidden behind one of the men, gazing timidly at me over his shoulder. She was the first female of the tribe I had seen. Her breasts were exposed for all to see, but she wore a cord about her waist from which hung a tightly bunched mat of grass fibers that somewhat covered her reproductive area. Her long, frizzly hair was neatly drawn back and tied into a clump at the back of her head. Numerous cords were tied to the clump of hair and were looped around to the front. Fastened to these cords were a variety of amulets and talismans carved from bone and wood, each of them hanging at a different position between her breasts. This was a pleasing arrangement of ornaments, and like the men around her, she bore the youthful skin of a child upon the body of an adult of indeterminate age.
Matiinuo pointed to the lump of clay, and he said, “Lamotelokhai.”
“Lam-oh-tell-oh-kai,” I repeated slowly. It appeared the tribe had a name for the lump of clay. It seemed to me to have the sound of something of grand importance, suitable to what I already knew of the object.
The men pressed several spear points to my skin to guide me toward it but did not draw blood, which suggested that, at least for the moment, they were no longer interested in causing me injury or pain. I complied, as it was my wish to learn more about the object anyway. I kneeled and put my hands upon the lump of clay, the Lamotelokhai. A cluster of hundreds of the strange figures appeared as an illusion before my eyes, suspended there as if hanging by threads too thin to be seen. One of the figures moved to the side, followed by three more that moved into position just above it. But I was no longer interested in completing mathematical patterns, as I was prepared to test an hypothesis I had developed following my previous encounter with the Lamotelokhai.
Three days before, when I had been pushed to the limits of my endurance, I had cried out to the object for mercy, thinking that God’s presence was within it. And then a miracle had occurred, or so it had seemed. I now determined, based upon that experience, to simply speak to the object.
“From whence have you come?” said I.
Suddenly I no longer was kneeling on the ground in a remote village. Instead, I was back in my previous vision, suspended in the air above a red-hued landscape of rocks and pools of swirling water. In the distance was the tall, thin outline of one of the towers, extending upward and disappearing into the haze of the sky. This was the same place I had visited in my dream, however this time the vision was much more immersive and hypnotic. All of my senses were engaged with stimuli, such as sounds of the water beneath me rippling from the movements of swimming creatures, the warm wind against my skin, and a most overpowering aroma of some unknown and caustic substance in the air itself as it entered my nose and mouth. I was only barely aware that I had ever existed outside of the vision. To make matters worse, confusing images flowed into my mind. I could not understand most of them, however they seemed to be related to the world that I was observing, such as different continents upon it, and how the three-legged inhabitants used the resources of the world to create their towers. Then, suddenly, the vision ended. I was again upon my knees, at the mercy of a dozen savage natives.
So great was the shock of this abrupt assault upon my senses that I nearly toppled over. I recovered my balance and sat motionless for some time, attempting to align my thoughts into some coherent path. Finally, I was able to consider the implications of what had happened. I had spoken a request, and somehow the object had understood and responded by placing a most vivid vision in my mind. But this vision had been so much more than the dreams I had experienced, perhaps because my hands had been resting directly upon the clay. I looked down at my hands. They were now shaking, and I pressed them firmly to the pliant clay to steady them. I attempted to think clearly. It occurred to me that perhaps I should avoid asking further questions, lest I again become overwhelmed. But I was caught in the grip of profound curiosity.
“From whence have I come?” I asked.
Again, a vision flooded my mind. I found myself standing on Hertford Street in Mayfair, London, gazing at the terrace house of my parents, where I had been born and had lived as a child. A carriage passed by me, and I heard the muffled conversation of two gentlemen within it. I smelled the sweat of the horses. It was as if I were there, in the same spot I had stood so many times as a boy. The vision ended, and again I was left reeling from the shock of it. After taking a moment to becalm my mental faculties, it occurred to me that this time I had recovered more quickly, perhaps because the vision had been of a place with which I was already familiar. Or perhaps more experience with such visions made them easier to endure. Following this conjecture, which I now know to be false, I formulated yet another question.
“How is it possible that my grievous wounds came to be healed in only three days?”
Suddenly, it was as if my consciousness had broken free of my physical self and floated away. I was looking at my own body, as if I had become a tiny mosquito and was flying about. With a force apparently beyond my control, I flew to the place where my hand rested upon the Lamotelokhai’s surface. As I moved closer, it seemed as if I were the tiniest of specks, and my own hand loomed before me as large as a mountain. I approached even closer, until the skin of my hand stretched out before me like a vast landscape of hills and valleys and
hairs, which were standing like tall trees. I then passed directly into the skin, and I was surrounded by things completely foreign and strange to me. Cells of the tissues of my hand were enormous, and I passed through them freely. I beheld myriads of particles and filaments of all shapes and of unknown purpose. I finally reached a place which I was certain was the point of contact between my palm and the lump of clay. I was sure of this because, although the clay consisted of particles of varying shapes, all of them were of distinct symmetrical form, as if they had been produced in a factory rather than by a process of nature. Flowing into my living tissue from the symmetrical components of the clay was a river of small particles, all of them of the same size and appearance. Each of them had the shape of a cube, but with cylinder-like appendages protruding outward from each of the cube’s eight corners. Thousands of these particles steadily flowed from the uniform components of the clay into the irregular components of my hand’s interior. I fell in behind them, following them as they made their way through endless vast and peculiar landscapes of the inner workings of my own body.
At last the symmetrical objects arrived at a place that was apparently their final destination, upon which they began a most astounding process. Before me was an area of obviously violent destruction. Instead of the organized and intricate structure of the healthy tissues I had passed through to get here, this area was a scene of complete disarray. Cells were torn open, their contents spilling out and being swept away by rivers of fluid. Particles of filth and dirt, of all sizes and shapes, were everywhere, tumbling about or firmly embedded in ruined tissue. Upon arriving by the thousands at this scene of destruction, the machine-like objects wasted no time. Moving at a rate my mind could scarcely comprehend, they attached themselves to the ruined tissue. Wherever one would attach, others would immediately attach to it in a very orderly fashion, like interlocking pieces of a puzzle, stacking upon each other, layer upon layer. And then, as I watched in astonishment, each of the stacked objects seemed to shift its own shape and change its own composition, until together they resembled the very tissues to which they had attached themselves. This process continued, until at last the entire area was organized and intricate. It was healthy tissue once again.
Diffusion Box Set Page 94