Metamorphosis

by Sesh Heri

  The little man held his finger to his mouth, his eyes intent upon me. We waited. Then the little man sprang from the wall and gestured for me to follow again. This time we ran toward the entrance of the cave— ran through the high grass between the stone buildings, jumped over the clinging vines— and then we reached the entrance where the stone steps led down into the rocky earth, and the little man raised his hand and the wall of volcanic stone far below at the foot of the steps began to rumble and move to one side.

  The noise must have attracted that giant slug, for in the next instant we again heard that rush of sound and that thrashing of jungle undergrowth. That thing was coming back.

  The little man and I ran down the stone steps and reached the place where the wall of solid stone was moving aside. I turned and looked up the steps. That giant slug was tumbling down the steps before us, its maw closing and opening. The wall moved back enough so that we could pass through; both the little man and I jumped through the opening. The monster worm was right behind us and the front of it oozed down toward the opening formed by the sliding wall of rock. The little man raised his hand, and the wall of rock began sliding back into place. The giant worm now attacked the sliding wall, its maw biting the wall’s edge. The wall kept sliding across, closing up the opening; the monstrous thing retracted its maw and was cut off from our sight by the wall of rock sealing shut.

  “Am I glad that thing didn’t get through!” I gasped.

  “So am I,” the little man said. “It would have taken weeks to be rid of its smell.”

  I looked at the little man a moment, and then could not help myself: I laughed. He watched me with a slight smile on his own lips. In a moment, I stopped laughing and wiped my brow.

  “Now tell me,” I asked, “how is it possible you speak English?”

  “I am Djudhi-Suf-Neniu,” the little man said. “In my language it means ‘Keeper of the Archives of Time.’ You may just call me ‘Djudhi’. I am what you would call a seer. I have watched your time and learned much, including your language. I am the master of a group of priests. The place up there on the surface was our sanctuary.”

  “But it’s abandoned,” I said.

  “For many years,” Djudhi said. “That giant worm that nearly swallowed us is only one of many that infest the jungle up there. We call those things sep which just means ‘worm’ in our language, but which has come to mean for us ‘monsters’. The sep were originally a kind of earthworm that lived on an island off the coast of this continent. They were very rare. But many years ago the things found an access to the mainland here through a lava tube, and when they arrived here their population exploded. Our people killed many of them, but then the sep came under an outside influence that directed their actions. Their rapid breeding was extremely selective, and in a very short while their progeny reached the size of the one we just encountered.”

  I asked, “You said the sep came under the control of an outside influence— what influence?”

  “The sep became possessed by NYMZA,” Djudhi said.

  “You know of NYMZA,” I said.

  “Yes,” Djudhi said. “I know of many things.”

  “Why did NYMZA possess the sep?” I asked.

  “Because NYMZA wanted to destroy our order of priests,” Djudhi said. “NYMZA directed the sep to our temple here, and we were forced to flee underground. Then the Bell appeared in the sky, and the wall of force surrounding it cut us off completely from the rest of our civilization, the great city that lies beyond us on the other side of the volcano.”

  “Why did NYMZA try to destroy your order of priests?” I asked.

  “Because of what happened here many years ago,” Djudhi said. “The master of our order in those days was my grandfather. He was the Keeper of the Time Archives, and through the Window of Time he had a vision that NYMZA would try to break through into our world in the coming years. He saw that they would project the Bell here and try to use the Time Modulator under this volcano to help them enter our material world. Hence he began a massive project: Our priesthood dug out the main resonator of the Time Modulator— that large sphere of metal you saw out there on the slope of the volcano.”

  “Your people dug out that big hole?” I asked.

  “We did,” Djuhi said. “We cut away the side of the volcano using our powers of levitation. Even so, it was a massive project. But after several years the work was finished, the main resonator was disconnected from the surrounding rock, and therefore its vibrational functions were dampened. My grandfather also removed the uppermost part of the Time Modulator, a small knob which screwed atop the mast of the main resonator. That knob was designed to connect to the Bell at intervals in order to correct misalignments in the Time Modulator’s resonant cavities. This was the work of the Neniu, the Time Masters. But connecting the Bell to the Time Modulator could also make it possible for anyone controlling the Bell to gain complete control of the Time Modulator itself— and this is what NYMZA desires to do: control the Time Modulator so that they can enter our material universe.”

  “You know much of NYMZA,” I said, “and of my world. What do you know about me? Do you know I am?”

  “Yes,” Djudhi said, “I know who you are. You are Harry Houdini, and I have been observing you in your present incarnation for some time. I have seen how you tried to deactivate the Bell. And I knew the Martians were bringing you here. This is all an inevitable Destiny which we are carrying out— you, the Martians, and me. We are all held together by invincible karmic bonds— bonds from which even you cannot escape. We have all been together before in many lives, and we will all be together again in many more lives yet— in millions of lives.”

  “You and I have known each other before in other lives?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Djudhi said. “Even in this life I now live, I have known you as one of my own people, but you no longer live here among us, for your soul passed on some years ago.”

  “I lived in this time— as one of your people?”

  “Yes,” Djudhi said.

  “Who was I?” I asked.

  “You were my father,” Djudhi said.

  I stood looking at Djudhi. His eyes widened, and even in this strange seer I saw a look of one who was struggling to understand a vast mystery.

  “Are there any other people that I know in my present life in 1915 that live or have lived in this time and place?” I asked.

  “Yes, there are many,” Djudhi said.

  “Who?” I asked.

  “The most important are two souls,” Djudhi said. “The first one in this time and place personified your father, my grandfather, the one who initiated the great digging project and removed the uppermost knob of the Time Modulator, the priest who foresaw the coming of NYMZA.”

  “Who was this?” I asked. “Who do I know in my own time that was my father in your time?”

  “I could tell you,” Djudhi said, “but it would be better if you guessed the truth for yourself. The soul who removed the knob of the Time Modulator…the soul who would know deeply in its unconscious mind to remove the knob of the Time Modulator…even though that soul’s conscious mind did not understand the real reasons for its actions…. Which person would such a soul become…in your time?”

  “Jack London,” I said.

  Djudhi nodded.

  “The soul of Jack London was my grandfather in this time,” Djudhi said, “and your father.”

  “And I was your father,” I said.

  Djudhi nodded.

  “And you,” I said, “you must also be someone that I know in my time.”

  Djudhi nodded.

  “You tell me the person my soul will become in your time,” Djudhi said. “You know.”

  I looked into his eyes.

  “I know you,” I said. “I have met you before very recently. You are Ed Morrell.”

  Djuhi nodded, and said, “My soul will become Ed Morrell.”

  The pilot of the U.S.S. Cypher kept steering the ship in a circle around
the pit containing the metal sphere. Lt. Nimitz stood by in the pilot’s cabin, studying the sky through binoculars, watching for any sign of the Martian airship. The crewmen in the control room kept watch at viewing screens designed to show the appearance of any object in the sky for a hundred mile radius.

  All the while Mr. Tesla, Mr. Czito, and Jack stood in the pilot’s cabin, gazing out upon the giant red sphere which stretched out below them.

  “What exactly is that thing down there?” Jack asked. “You tell me it is a time machine. Just what exactly does that mean?”

  “It is a massive tuning device,” Mr. Tesla said, “designed to control the earth’s material and etheric vibrations. One of its most important functions for us is its maintenance of certain frequencies in the atomic structure of the earth which allow the astral bodies of humans and domesticated animals to sustain a link with their material bodies. Without this device and the six others buried in the crust of the earth, human life would not exist on this planet. That was its intended function. But that function can also be modified to turn the resonators into time machines. This is what the Martians have done.”

  “But this one has been exposed to the surface,” Lt. Nimitz said. “It looks as if it has been dug out.”

  “This sphere is only the main resonator of a complete system of metal tubes and rods still buried beneath this volcano,” Mr. Tesla said. “Whoever dug out this sphere only dampened the device’s effectiveness. It still operates, but not so efficiently that the Bell, now floating above it out there, can resonate with its function. It is as if someone wanted to prevent the Bell from joining to the resonator, someone existing in this time.”

  “Who could that be?” Lt. Nimitz asked.

  “I have no idea,” Mr. Tesla said.

  Djudhi had led me down deeper into the caverns, down many tunnels and many steps which turned and wound and twisted deeply into what seemed an infinite labyrinth. Always that purple light glowed everywhere, lighting our way, a strange phosphorescence of the sort that I had observed many years earlier inside the caverns of Mars. Now as we kept descending into this underground world, we began passing waterfalls. In another moment I heard harmonic chanting, the same kind of chanting I had heard earlier inside the tower above us on the surface. I suspected that some kind of acoustical channel was bringing this sound from the depths up to surface level at the base of that tower.

  “We are approaching the sanctuary,” Djudhi said.

  I followed Djuhdi down another curving flight of massive stone steps. As we rounded a turn, the cave room below us came into sight, a great cavity of rock with a ceiling perhaps one hundred feet high and the room twice as wide all round about. Far at the opposite wall of the cave room was a large, vertical opening, a kind of doorway framed on either side by an arcade of stalactites and stalagmites. In the center of this great cave room dozens of people stood: men, women, and children. The men were dressed in the same fashion as Djudhi, wearing only a wrapping of white cloth about their waists and loins. Some of the women were dressed in white robes, while others wore only wrappings of cloth about their upper bodies. The children were likewise dressed in various wrappings of white cloth. These were the people making the harmonic chants. They were all singing, and some of them were dancing about in a circle.

  “These are the neophytes,” Djudhi said. “The young ones of our order. They are learning to attune their higher consciousness.”

  “There are women and children here,” I observed.

  “Ours is not a celibate order,” Djudhi said, “although our most advanced work on the astral plane is only accomplished by the men. Advanced development of the astral body requires the male energy. Advanced work on the emotional body requires the female energy. That was why I could not let Mrs. London enter the tower on the surface. That tower has been charged with male astral energy, and her presence inside of it would have disrupted its harmonic standing waves of ether on the astral plane. Come.”

  I followed Djudhi as he passed around the neophytes and approached that large vertical opening I had first noticed as we came down the steps. I could now see a bright glow ahead in that opening. There was something more than mere phosphorescence illuminating that expanse of the cave which lay ahead of us.

  Before we reached that main opening, Djudhi turned aside to the right, and we entered yet another tunnel.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “I am taking you to see the next stage in the development of our priests,” Djudhi said. “Come.”

  Now the tunnel through which we were walking turned and then widened, and up ahead I saw a row of about a dozen men, all looking very much like Djudhi— but all of them standing on their heads!

  “This is the next stage of our exercises,” Djudhi said. “You have done something like this yourself before, have you not?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I’ve stood on my head before.”

  “But you did not know why,” Djudhi said. “It is done to stimulate the development of what is called in your time the ‘third eye’— the pineal gland. It is in this gland where an etheric wheel is attached. That wheel, when fully developed, has the power to control material forces.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked. “Levitation?”

  “Come see for yourself,” Djudhi said.

  He walked on forward through the tunnel, and we came upon another group of priests. These, too, I saw were standing on their heads.

  “You see?” Djudhi asked.

  “They’re not levitating,” I said.

  Djudhi laughed.

  “No?” Djudhi asked. “Look closer. Kneel and look at the top of their heads.”

  I looked about at all the men with their legs poised in the air before us. I stepped in front of one of them, knelt down, bowed my head toward the floor of the cavern, and then— then I saw it.

  The crown of the upside down man’s head was not resting on the ground— it was about an inch above the surface of the cavern floor! I was so shocked by this sight that after my first glance I pulled my head away, doubting what I had just seen. But then I looked down again, and studied every detail of the crown of the man’s head and the floor of the cavern that was separated from him by a space. I slowly and carefully slipped the tips of my fingers down along the cavern floor, until my fingers stopped directly under the man’s head. My fingers did not touch the man’s head. The top of the man’s head was not resting upon the ground— the man was floating upside down above the cavern floor!

  I pulled my hand away out from under the man’s head.

  “He’s— he’s floating in mid-air,” I said.

  “Yes,” Djudhi said. “All of these students are.”

  “What are they doing?” I asked. “Generating anti-gravity fields?”

  I looked up at Djudhi. He was smiling.

  “No,” Djudhi said. “No anti-gravity fields. They are creating a thought-form through their etheric wheels.”

  “What are you saying?” I asked. “Are you saying they are thinking themselves into the air?”

  “Yes,” Djudhi said. “But these are just beginners. Come see students who have more perfectly developed their powers.”

  I stood up and followed Djudhi back in the direction we had come. We reached the main passage which led to that large opening with the bright light glowing beyond it, but Djudhi did not walk toward that opening, but to yet another, smaller tunnel branching off to our left. In this tunnel we came upon a cave room with a ceiling about forty feet high. Here, seven men, dressed just like Djudhi, floated upside down in the air, their heads a full ten feet off the ground. I stood in silence looking at these men; they all had their eyes closed in a deep concentration.

  “These are almost ready for the final tests of concentrated will,” Djuhdi said. “The tests by water and fire. Come.”

  Now Djudhi led me past the men floating upside down in the air and into a narrow tunnel of only about three feet in width and five feet in height. Djudhi managed to
walk through this tunnel with no stooping or turning, but it was just narrow and low enough that I found that I had to walk bent over and constantly keep watch of the undulations in the walls as I moved along the passage. After walking through this tunnel for many feet, we reached a small cave room, the walls of which were constantly trickling and glistening with sheets and streams of water. Several large box-like structures about five feet tall were lined up in rows along the right wall of the passage way. We approached these boxes and as I neared them I froze in my tracks suddenly.

  They were glass-fronted tanks built exactly like my water torture cell illusion— seven glass-enclosed tanks—and in each tank a man hung locked at his ankles in the upside down position, his mouth end eyes closed, his arms folded across his chest, immersed in water. The purple light of the cavern illuminated the submerged men’s faces with an unearthly pallor. No bubbles escaped the men’s mouths. Not a flicker of movement passed across their faces. I could not tell if they were alive or dead.

  “What is happening here?” I gasped.

  “The water test,” Djudhi said, “the next to the last stage in the development of the power of the brow wheel.”

  “It— it looks like an illusion that I present in my stage shows,” I said.

  “Very much so,” Djudhi said. “In your present incarnation your subconscious mind seeks to reenact through ritual and illusionistic gesture what it experienced in this other life among us as an actuality. In your life here when you were my father, you once endured the water test— as well as the fire test. Come.”

  Djudhi did not turn us about, but kept going through the tunnel that made a looping path through the volcanic rock until we emerged once again in the main cavern area. Again the opening with the brilliant light came into view. I turned toward it and pointed at it.

  “What is that?” I asked.

  “That?” Djudhi asked. “That is the test of fire. Come see it.”

  And now Djudhi walked toward that glaring light. His little figure became a silhouette against a blaze of orange as he marched forward ahead of me. I heard more chanting voices— and other voices singing a melody— and then a drumming— a steady drumming among the voices. We were nearing the large vertical opening, a passageway nearly fifty feet tall, its space beyond filled with a brilliant orange light. Suddenly Djudhi’s black silhouette shifted to the right and disappeared behind the black edge of the wall— and then all I could see was the brilliant orange which now began to take form as the glittering ceiling of another large cave room— a spherical room like the space under a massive dome. I stepped through the opening.