The Empty Door

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The Empty Door Page 30

by E. R. Mason

Markman stared in awe at the spectacle that surrounded him. The landscape was rustic and rugged and glowed brightly from within. The night sky was black and densely splattered with stars. Grand, sharply cut mountain ranges, barren of green, decorated the distant horizon. Deep, massive canyons carved their way through them. Course, granular sand of multi-toned ash coloring covered the immediate plateau on which he had emerged.

  But most striking of all was the receding line of moon-size planets that were suspended above the horizon. Vibrant with color, they were alive with accelerated motion. Their gravity-enslaved possessions paid worship as they turned in orbit. The red, canal-laced surface of Mars seemed close enough to touch. Its moon, Phobos, cast a dark shadow on the face as it drifted by. Above and behind Mars, massive orange-yellow storms swirled combatively on the giant Jupiter, as its own satellites hung in suspension like diamonds in the sky. Farther out, the water ice rings of Saturn churned steadily, back dropped by the light of Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto. Together the planets formed a line of conjunction that pointed outward to the endlessness of the universe. The living solar system hummed with power.

  Markman breathed the electric air. It was light, clean, and rich. Colored shadows quickly came and went. A few feet away, Cassiopia stood with her back to him, staring intently at something in the distance. The little box was still in her right hand--its cover now closed. As the robot came clamoring through the SCIP door, Markman spotted the faintly visible image that held her attention. It was no more than an indefinable speck, but clearly was moving toward them.

  Markman regained his composure. "Cass?"

  She looked back at him, smiled faintly, and nodded. "It's okay. Just wait. Look!" She pointed to the approaching figure.

  The image continued to advance and soon became definable. It was a man, still only a vague silhouette of one--but clearly, a man. Markman noticed that the wound on Cassiopia's neck had disappeared and there were no signs of blood on her or her clothes. He began to suspect that Dreamland was up to its old tricks. He was seeing what he wanted to see.

  The approaching figure grew near and recognizable. A gray beard and uncut gray hair that was at least as long as Markman's. Brown khaki shirt and pants, and low-cut brown leather boots. A utility bag was slung low over his shoulder. Professor Cassell held up one hand and smiled in a greeting to his daughter. Cassiopia began to walk toward him. The two stared silently at each other, and the pace quickened.

  Markman and the robot began to follow. As the distance between them evaporated, the Professor opened his arms wide to embrace his daughter. They hugged and swayed together, exchanging heartfelt greetings that Markman was not close enough to hear. He stopped a few feet short of the reunion. Cassiopia pulled away and turned to face them.

  "This is Scott Markman, Father. He's been helping me look for you."

  The Professor offered his hand and smiled. He appeared unkempt and travel-worn but lacked the weak and malnourished look that should have profiled someone in his situation. Markman again doubted what he was seeing.

  "Thank you so much, Mr. Markman. You must be one of my daughter's robotics friends. I see the TEL has taken a shine to you."

  "No sir,” he replied, shaking the hand of a man who had always been little more than a ghost, and considering the current evidence, probably still was. "I was assigned by the university."

  "Oh, I see. Oh my, this is rather embarrassing you know, getting lost in my own experimentation, quite literally this time. I imagine my absence has unfortunately caused quite a stir of publicity. I had so hoped to avoid that."

  "We kept the SCIP lab concealed, Father. Only Scott and I know."

  The Professor raised an eyebrow in surprise. "The police did not become involved?" He looked at Markman with reappraisal. "How long have I been gone?"

  "More than a week, Professor. And there have been serious complications. Your hidden laboratory will have to be exposed now. Things have happened--"

  "A week? I've been gone more than a week? It's been like a month to me. There is a certain random time effect here, you understand. I had become lost in an exotic jungle terrain, hopelessly it seemed. I wandered for days in search of the SCIP transformer. My supplies were nearly exhausted. I was stopped at a pool of water when it turned to sand before my eyes. I looked up and discovered I was on a ledge overlooking these canyons. The environment had changed completely right in front of me. Was this somehow your doing, Cassiopia?"

  Cassiopia looked down at the box in her hand and shook her head. "I don't know how to explain it. I only know that this is what brought us here."

  "What sort of device is it? It seems familiar to me."

  "It is difficult to explain. I know that someone is coming for it. I don't know who."

  "But how do you know these things, daughter?"

  "I just looked into it, and I knew many things!"

  Suddenly the drone of Tel interrupted, "Professor, object approaching. Inclination fifteen degrees, directly behind you."

  In unison, the group turned to look. At first, there was nothing. They stared off into the black sky, to the right of the majestic, planetary line. A small, golden star emerged against the night. It was far-off and began to grow in size, though it seemed no closer and it made no sound. It became tubular and brown, then cigar-shaped with sparse detail, a dull, muddy brown. It hung in the inky sky, sometimes seeming to vibrate, the massive size of it making its distance difficult to estimate.

  The robot offered data without being asked. "Object two point two kilometers, elevation one hundred, fifty-two meters. Currently stationary."

  Markman became even more skeptical and broke the spell that had come over them. "Whose Dreamland is this, anyway?"

  The Professor answered, "Something has changed, Mr. Markman. This environment is solid matter. That's why the TEL can track objects here. Wherever we are, this is not the place I nicknamed Dreamland."

  "How do we know the robot is even real?" suggested Markman.

  The Professor smiled knowingly, "You mean how do you know if any of us are real, don't you? A question we might all well ask, I should say. You are more familiar with Dreamland effects than I expected, aren't you?"

  "I am, Professor. And I don't understand how someone such as yourself could have gone for so long and yet appear so unaffected."

  "I agree with your confusion, sir. My supplies were all but gone. I was forced to sleep several times in Dreamland, and often when I awoke the environment was merely a continuation of what I had been dreaming. You could say I was trapped in a dream within a dream!”

  Cassiopia looked wide-eyed at Markman. He shook his head in disbelief. Before the Professor could continue, Cassiopia pointed excitedly at the terrain behind him and cried, "Look, look at that!"

  On the plain beneath the floating craft, a small star appeared and collapsed into a soft white, ovoid form. Colors swirled within it. The vague figure began a slow, deliberate approach toward them. Oddly, the robot gave no alert, though clearly it was tracking the movement.

  The radiant visitor continued to walk but gained great leaps of distance in disproportionate skips. As it approached, it morphed into human form. In less than a minute, it stood before them. No words were spoken. Its greeting came as a shared feeling of well-being and peace. Its arms were soft, long and thin. The hands were molded without fingers except for the semblance of a thumb. That too was completely fluid and lacked detail. There were deep, dark, compassionate eyes within the face, but no facial features to define them, and no other features to characterize the resplendent head. The legs, evenly proportioned, had no visible joints and ended in feet that were smoothly contoured in a fashion similar to the hands. On the left side of the chest, an aqua blue emblem stood out, bearing a yin-yang-like swirl. The visitor did not seem to require clothing of any kind.

  No words were necessary. Eddies of emotio
n and thought, swirled among the silent gathering, finally settling into a stable, common pool.

  Markman felt uncomfortable and out of place. He asked blankly, "What is happening?"

  The visitor answered without speaking. Each of them heard the reply in his own mind. "This place changes not; it is within and without you. It is apart from time." The creature drew a gentle line across the horizon with one hand as it spoke.

  The Professor wondered to himself, why is he here? And everyone heard him. The creature looked affectionately at Cassiopia, and a message again formed in their minds. "Your humble emissary. That which you possess came not by chance. It had been stolen and hidden in time. A long journey it has made. Only here and now might it return."

  Markman thought, "He wants the box! How can this be happening? I got my hands on it purely by luck. This can't be real."

  The emissary looked fondly upon him. "Not one heartbeat is by chance. Not one suffering unnoticed. Not one step along the way random. All things that happen, must happen."

  They all looked at the small shiny box in Cassiopia's hand, and in unison wondered what it really was.

  The emissary answered, "It is truth. It is the before and after. It is all things, and it is no thing."

  Cassiopia felt unexpected regret at the thought of relinquishing the strange possession. How could she know it would be going to its rightful place?

  The emissary seemed to become even more brilliant. It felt knowing affection to her and replied, "That which you hold will not be taken from you, only that it be freely given. No will be done that is not of the One."

  Cassiopia's doubts vanished. She held out the shiny box, and it gently disappeared from her hand, reappearing momentarily in the possession of the emissary, then vanishing for good.

  Markman had become convinced. He experienced a powerful flush of guilt and found himself wondering if there was blood on his shirt from the recent hellish melee in which he had acted so brutally and instinctively. I should try to explain, he thought.

  The emissary turned to him with friendship and familiarity. It spoke silently once more, and Markman thought he heard the voice of his long-deceased Tibetan master. "And so we see, all things that happen, must happen. And when in the Oneness, we are but tools for the One. That which you seek, has been and always will be."

  Professor Cassell looked bewildered. He wanted to ask how his SCIP creation had come to play a role in what was happening but doubted that technical science was an appropriate subject under such circumstances.

  The visitor understood. "Ah, the empty door. A wonder it is, though one be enlightened. The prophet Cayce, answers for you lie there."

  The ethereal visitor looked again to Cassiopia, searching for a question within her. She thought to him, "How can I bring more love into our violent world?"

  Suddenly she and the emissary conversed alone in mind, though the others appeared not to realize it. And the answer came. "That which you seek, stands next to you."

  Cassiopia looked beside her at Markman who, like the others, had heard nothing. She smiled back with a look of wonder, and was happier than she could ever remember.

  Of all of them, Markman understood the most. He drank in the radiant sight of their host and found himself wondering if the frequently harsh world in which he lived could ever hope to find such tranquility and harmony. It did not seem so.

  They all heard his doubt. The omniscient being replied passionately, "As one sins in a dream, does such destroy the waking life? This place is not the dream, that lies beyond the empty door." And all turned to stare back at the SCIP mirror.

  When they looked around, the emissary once again had become a colorful ovoid standing in the distance beneath the hovering craft. A feeling of gratitude and love bridged the gap between them.

  One last message found its way to their hearts. "Seek your answers in the poor and the suffering, for the One leaves gifts for his children, where he knows only they will find them."

  With that, a star formed at the base of the ship. A moment later, the hovering object shrunk slowly and silently from sight and disappeared behind the stars.

  Chapter 31

 

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