chapter 3 of my as yet unnamed novel

3 When the students began to collect their things and depart, he walked over to me and we exchanged greetings and pleasantries. His name was Eduardo Guevara III, and he seemed to know the reason I had come. He sat down next to me on a velvet couch, and the conversation begun. “I have been waiting on you for a while now my friend. I have been dreaming of this day for so long, I can’t help but suspect that I dream right now." He paused, and scratched his beard. "About thirty years ago, I was hiking in a remote stretch of hills skirting the eastern peaks of the Andes, and I discovered a ruin that was unlike anything I had seen or heard of. After a careful analysis I determined it was not built by any of the people that previously inhabited the area. The architecture was unlike anything else on the continent. The buildings did not look to be made of natural rock, and they were not assembled with any technology available to the Mayans, Incas, or Aztecs. The glyphs on the walls could not have been carved, for they were perfectly etched, and not of any alphabet I know of. I have dedicated my time to illuminating many of the mysteries surrounding the enigmatic peoples that have lived here. After forty years of field work and research I was still unable to explain who built that city and for what reason. The frustration gnawed at me, and I dwelled in a dark place for many years. One day, about two weeks ago, a vision came to me as I walked the steppes. There was a man’s face, your face my friend,” his smile grew larger and he looked at me, “and with it came a voice, ethereal and distant. ‘He will help you solve the puzzle, and he will set you free’ it said; and then there was nothing but the face. I tried to speak with it, to learn something more, but since then I have yet to hear anything else from this distinctive voice. Nothing like that has ever happened to me before.” I let it all sink in, and sat quietly for a few seconds without speaking. So this voice is engineering the fates of many. I was living in some synchronistic dream world, and the pieces were falling into places after many years of culmination. Ever a wonder, this universe. Eduardo looked at me with expectation. I could tell in his mind’s eye he was once again young, reliving the days when the lust for knowledge had driven him mad and he had a world of possibilities in front of him. “So, we find ourselves dancing to a tune that we cannot hear aye? I too was visited by a vision, probably the same time you had yours. It was of this valley you speak of. In it I received the name of the place, which was called the Valley of M’artenoir by its inhabitants. I saw a pillar in the middle of a stone circle, which emits a blinding light at the fall equinox,” at this statement his joy increased, if that were possible. “With the vision came the voice and it told me that the salvation of humanity rested upon me. That I was to be there at the appointed time, and eternal bliss would be my reward. This is all happening so quickly Ed. I have seen and done many things that most would find unbelievable, and I thought I had a grasp on what was occurring around me. But, the times are a changing, it seems. A few weeks ago I was living in a cave, and now I am on a path that is obscured by the mists of time.” I sat silent for a minute, lost in thought. Ed offered me a beer which I declined. “It would seem Ed that we have been chosen for a very important task. For some reason or another, it was we who were contacted and it is we who must heed the call. I don’t know about you, but I intend to discover what is so important at this site. What do you make of all this?” “Well, I imagine I was chosen because I am the only one who knows of the valley‘s location. I have kept it a secret from my colleagues all these years, because of my foolish pride. I cannot speculate why you were chosen, but I’m sure that you know the reason why.” He was right. I knew my mental abilities were strong, but I had no inkling that I was one of the only man living who was capable of carrying out the wishes of this strange voice. Though how could I be anything else? Perhaps that is why Master Ramm took such an interest in me, and taught me everything that he knew. He told me that I had great things inside me, just waiting to be set free; he must have seen what I now suspect. “Yes I suppose I do. What do you say? Will you take me to this valley? Will you join my pilgrimage?” The words hung in the air for a few moments, and his answer did not surprise me. “Of course my friend. It would be an honor, and besides, I have been waiting for answers too long to give up now.” We had less than two weeks to reach the valley, and I still didn’t know what was to happen when we arrived. I decided to meditate on this new development. I arranged a meeting with him the following Tuesday afternoon, to plan our trip, and I bid him a good day. He walked me out and gave me directions to a hotel upon my request. Afterwards he shook my hand with more enthusiasm than I would have thought possible. One did not need true-sight to see his elation. I liked Ed and we had become fast friends. After reading him I knew he was a good man, living how he wanted to, and harming nobody in the process. I left the building and walked around the campus for a time. The scenery reminded me of my college days, and I relived the four years in the time it took me to wander off campus. Though I walked through the city streets towards the hotel, I was not really there. I was taking a look at everything that led up to this past month. All the days spent sharpening my skills and looking ahead to the future. Here I was in the future that I had idealized, and it was not what I had seen in those days long gone. I had thought of going back to the States, with all the wisdom of the East, and changing the country. Bringing understanding of the Way to all my wayward kin, and helping to restore the equilibrium mankind had disrupted. Or I would go to New Zealand and raise a family. But in either fantasy nothing like this ever happened. Well, at least I had something to look forward to. The chance to bring about the salvation of mankind was not given to everyone, and I was grateful for the opportunity. Though the disembodied voice made me somewhat apprehensive, I was sure that I was making the right decision. Throughout my life the unknowns have always weighed heavily on my mind, and this was no different. If it had been my master’s voice that brought this mission to me, I would not question it. But, this new voice was a mystery to me. I walked the streets in the direction of the hotel, feeling hungry. For food, for answers, and for reassurance. I hadn’t eaten anything since the previous evening, and the noises coming from my stomach reminded me. I arrived in front of the hotel, which stood out from the other buildings that I had seen. The walls were not filthy, the doors were made of glass, and it was not adversely affected by the gloom. The doorman opened the door, and I was inside. The floors were marble and the place was decorated with paintings and sculptures, none of which were very good. Just the sort of art you expect to see in a hotel; completely uninspired and bland, art for the sake of money. I walked up to the counter, spoke to the hostess, and got a room. The bellhop was visibly disappointed that his services were not required, and I walked past the elevator to the stairs. I preferred stairs, because when I was younger I was stuck in an elevator with a soldier and a nun for fourteen hours. Not a pleasant experience. I arrived on the fourth floor after a few minutes of walking, found room No. 420, and entered my temporary home. It was sparsely furnished, having only a bed, a table set, and a television. After putting my knapsack down, I called room service, and ordered a garden salad, sushi, and four bottles of water. It was then that I remembered I hadn’t called my father yet. I picked up the phone and dialed his New York office. “Hello, Mr. Wilson’s office, how can I help you?” a perky female voice said after it rang three times. “Hi Pamela, can I speak to my dad please?” “My name isn’t Pamela, sir. And Mr. Wilson is in a meeting right now, can I take a message?” “Sure. Tell him that Elias called, and that he can reach me at the [hotel] in [Chilean port city]. Room number 420. Thanks a lot,” and I hung up before hearing her response. Knowing my dad, he’ll call back in a few minutes, the imaginary meeting an excuse to practice his putting in the office. I sat in silence for a short time, absorbed in thought. Since I received the summons, I have relived the vision many times, looking for details I had missed the first time around. I decided more reviewing was necessary. I started to meditate, relaxing my body and mind, feeling the fluid nature of my cellular awareness give way to stillness. I concentrated on the memory, the time, and my location when I was contacted. The scene unfolded slowly before me; the crumbling avenues arranged in a concentric circle, the standing stones which I knew served as conduits for planetary energy, and the main obelisk that dominated the landscape of the city. There were no animals living in the area, and the plants were thriving in the high energy atmosphere. Knowing what to look for, I could tell the dwellings were not constructed so much as formed. The small buildings were dome shaped, and had oddly shaped doorways. There was no evidence of irrigation or a water supply of any kind, and there were no fire pits. My search was interrupted by a distant ringing noise I knew to be the telephone. So I receded from my state of concentration and was once again conscious of the world around me. I walked over to the table and picked up the receiver. "Hi Dad," I said, knowing it was him. "Elias? How did you know it was me," he asked, in a shocked tone. He knew that I had gifts, but he was always surprised when I used them. "I would think after this long you would know the answer to that question Dad. Besides, nobody else knows I'm here. How has everything been going?" "Oh, you know. The same old things; running the business, dealing with the market and the shareholders. I've got a new girlfriend, she's great. Looks like Madonna, but prettier. Aside from that not much. What about you? I haven't heard from you in almost a year, I was beginning to think you had been killed or something. Why didn't you call me?" The question I knew I was going to hear. Took a little longer than I expected to hear it though. “Well, I was living in the wilderness until about two weeks ago. I told you that I was going to be away from civilization for a long time. Anyway, I lived off the land and I was content to continue like that. Very recently I was visited by a vision, and I was told to come here. I have learned much Father, since we last spoke. Oh and thanks for not canceling my credit card. It would have been difficult for me to get here without it.” "Oh it's not that big of a deal son. You hardly use it anyway. How long are you going to be in Chile? I would like to visit you, lay eyes on my little boy for a change." "Well, I'm probably going to be here for a few more weeks. I planned on going to this ruin pretty soon; I have things to find out there. If you wanted to come down I would be fine with it. Are you sure you're not too busy up there?" "Pshhh, nothing is more important to me right now than seeing you. The company will be fine without me for a few days. I'm so happy right now, you don't even know son. I'll be on the next flight to Chile. I'll give you a call when I arrive. I love you son." "I love you too Dad." And with that I hung up the phone. Talking to my dad always made me feel better, and this was no exception. There are very few people I ever got really close to, and my father was one of them. Ever since I was little his voice just soothed the problems of the world away. Well, at least when the problems were small ones. Like getting rejected by a girl or bullied at school. I don’t think any amount of talking could erode the memory of the megalithic problems that face the world at this point. It was my duty to shoulder some of the weight forced on the people, even though I was not to blame. It was the responsibility of all Enlightened Ones to alleviate the burdens placed on the collective unconscious, to make life livable on this crazy sphere. So I was taught, and so I would teach, if ever I get the opportunity. My food arrived, after a few minutes of silent contemplation. The bellhop wheeled in the cart, which had my meal atop it. I thanked him in Spanish, gave him a dollar tip, which he was quite pleased to receive, and he left me to eat. The salad was satisfactory, containing everything I would expect: romaine lettuce, zucchini, tomatoes, and every dressing I could ask for on the side. The sushi, however, did not look very appetizing. I ate all of it, despite my reluctance, and drank one of the water bottles. After the light meal, I meditated for another two hours, trying to understand this situation I found myself in. I recalled something Master Ramm said when I first met him. “Everyone travels a path to heaven that is for them alone; the destination may be the same, but it is the journey that is important.” I had a few options, but only one path seemed worthwhile; the one I was traveling. Thinking of what could happen or what might have is an inherent waste of time. This is happening, and so it will be. Where my journey was to take me I couldn't tell, but I was certain that it would be worth finding out. * * * * * * We had reached the mountain trail that led to the Valley after only three hours of hiking. We made a fine troupe; Eduardo brought up the rear, leading our pack mule along the rocky terrain. His research assistant, Miguel Vila Lobos, walked ahead of him, and I was leading the procession. The path was not clear, but I knew where to go. I could read Ed’s mental impressions, and knew when I was straying from the path. It was beautiful country and the air was thin and crisp. It was very cold at this altitude, but I had deadened my nerves and was reasonably comfortable. Ed and Miguel, however, were feeling frosty despite their thick wool coats and insulating layers of cloth. I was wearing a parka I had bought upon Ed’s insistence before we left the city, but I didn’t really need it. The peaks of the Andes blocked the light from the setting sun, and cast us into a twilight world of muted colors and fading sunlight. Shrubbery of many varieties grew out of the rocky outcroppings and brushed against my clothes, releasing their pollens and seeds with the motion. I had been silent for most of the journey, listening to the wildlife, and thinking of what awaited us. Eduardo and Miguel spoke occasionally, and the silences were interrupted by Miguel singing songs of romance and loss. He had a resonant and pleasant voice that reminded me of David Bowie. Things were going quite well, and we had two days to set up camp before the equinox. I was in high spirits, and my companions were also feeling cheerful. Miguel was a fine specimen of the collegiate community of South America. He had been working with Ed for three years, and the two were great friends. He was a grad student with a bachelor’s degree in ancient cultures, who worked exclusively with Ed on various projects, and I could tell he had nothing but respect for his mentor. He was two years older than me, but it didn't show. He had the face and demeanor of a boy, and was quite happy to be chosen for this 'research project', as Ed described it. I walked ahead while recalling the day I was reunited with my father. When I told him of the summons I had received, he was less than encouraging. I wasn't going to talk about it at all, but he had a way of getting things out of me. We were having lunch in some restaurant near my hotel, and we were making small talk. Reminiscing about days gone by, and the good times we had while I was growing up. I always loathed this type of conversation and the utter lack of substance, but I indulged him. We never really had anything in common to talk about since I found my true self, and it seemed to make him happy to remember those carefree days. When I told him that a voice told me to come here, he wanted me to go see a psychiatrist in New York. "You’re hearing voices? That doesn't sound too good Elias. I've heard of people hearing voices, and then they do some really strange things. You might have brain damage. When was your last CAT scan?" "I don't think I've ever had one." I tried to assure him that I was sane, but I wasn't so sure myself. He never really believed in my chosen way of life, but he was not overly critical either. Outwardly he appeared to respect my decisions, but the way he acted when I talked about my sojourn and spiritual renewal I could tell he was holding back his true feelings. They were easily readable now, bubbling over his unconditional love for me. He really thought there was something wrong with me, but I didn’t let that bother me. Shortly after the dinner that night he flew back to New York. I felt like there was something left unsaid. So I called him on the plane and told him that I loved him, even though he thought I suffered from some mental illness. Without undeniable proof I don’t think he’ll ever believe me, even though he wants to. When I reached the Valley's rim, I stopped and looked down on the buildings and dense foliage that I had seen so many times in my mind. They were barely visible in the twilight, but the moon was coming out and they were getting clearer and more distinct. The rays of light cast the scenery into shades of opalescence and dark shadows which accented the deserted appearance of the city. The buildings had the same rounded appearance that I remembered, and in the moonlight they looked like broken crocodile eggs strewn on swamp grass. Miguel reached the summit and stood next to me, looking upon the abandoned city for the first time. He didn’t seem all that impressed until he made a more judicious survey of the area. At that moment his attitude immediately changed. On his face was etched the wonder and curiosity that I could feel reverberating in his mind. Endless questions filled his thoughts, erupting into torrents of psychic energy. He knew instantly that this was a rare find, and that he was very lucky to have this opportunity. The Professor and the mule caught up to us, and Ed cast his eyes once again on the main subject of his research for the past three decades. He has devoted his every spare moment to ascertaining the origin of this unexplained metropolis, and he was now closer than ever to his goal. The exhilaration literally emanated from his body and soul, creating golden waves of elation that pulsed into the surrounding air. Towering in the center of the ruin was the obelisk that concentrated the electromagnetic energy that surrounds and flows through Earth. I knew of lay lines and vortices that collected and stored excess energy, but I have never encountered one that was this powerful. I could sense all around me the sheer magnitude of potential energy centered on the monolith, just waiting to be unleashed by someone who knew how. Many times Master took me to vortices of planetary energy, which the Hindus called prahna. We went in the forest, and walked for days to find a standing stone in a small clearing. The place was left unaffected by the passage of centuries. Even then, so early in my training, I could feel the prahna surrounding me and filling every space I could conceive. Master told me of the energy that originates in all beings, large and small. The prahna that we humans have is limited by our frail physical forms, but planets are giants that live for billions of years. Their size and age allows for much prahna to form in them. In planets the energy is vast and almost limitless. He told me that dragon lines, as the Chinese called them, are conduits for the Earth's prahna to flow, like our own arteries and veins. At certain points the conduits pool and collect, to form chakras on the Earth's surface. These are the vortices that ancient cultures have known of for millenia. It is at one such vortex that I stood in right now. I have seen one before, but the energy here was simply unfathomable. The plants were vigorous and hearty, and the area was very calming. Though I had seen this place before, I could not help feeling awed at the sight. Everything was intact and solid after centuries of neglect, and deep in the valley the river flowed southward, searching for the Pacific Ocean. The valley was deeper than I had recalled, but that must have been due to my aerial perspective. The animals and plants lived here, free from the tyranny of mankind. I could feel a sense of peace descend upon me, soothing the slight anxiety that I had been carrying since India. What was waiting for me here, in this secluded bowl of rock? I have never before experienced such a strong sense of purpose and meaning, but I didn't understand any of it. I was supposed to bring freedom and wisdom to my fellow man, but I didn't even know what I was meant to do. All of my concerns were swept away by the electricity of this place, and the tranquility that permeated my soul. "Here we are gentlemen. The Valley of M'artenoir," I said.