chapter 4 of my as yet unnamed novel

4 We set up camp inside the largest of the dwellings, what Ed imagined was a meeting hall of some type. The ceiling was high above us, curving into a dome like all the other buildings, about 24 feet above our heads. The inside walls were inscribed with runes that were not unappealing to the eye, yet indecipherable. There did not seem to be an alphabet, as we know it. The words, if that is what they were, formed a single shape; much like Japanese in its written form, or Egyptian. Ed was right about them though, they could not have been carved by any primitive culture of South America that is known to humankind. The cuts were too clean, too trim. From the area, I could sense a lingering presence distinctly different from what I have experienced as human emanations. Areas that have been inhabited by humans have a sort of earthy, rhythmic resonance, which I would compare to the warm familiar pulse of the womb. The fading signals dispersed around this place, infused into the walls and the ground, reminded me of ice. It was stiff, almost wooden, and gave the feeling that I was standing on a frozen lake. I felt the cold surface, but I could only imagine what lies beneath it. It would take some time, but I could learn more about the place with concentrated mental probing. Miguel seemed to notice the subtle change in frequency as well. When we entered the cathedral like building his thoughts swam uncontrollably to thoughts of isolation and abandonment. His subconscious was urging him to leave the place that was so unprecedented, so alien to his previous experience. I cannot say that I blamed him. If I were not here for a good reason, I probably would not stay. "Professor Guevara, what exactly are we doing here?" Miguel said, somewhat hesitantly. He was eyeing the walls and looking at the doorway every few seconds, as if some unseen danger lurked just beyond the threshold. "Miguel my boy, we're hopefully going to solve a puzzle that has had me stumped for longer than you have been alive. What do you make of these characters on the walls?" After a stern once over, Miguel turned to him and said, "They appear to be hieroglyphs of some type. I cannot make any of them out though. They remind me of Celtic runes, yet there isn't any way that could be true." “Yes that is about as far as I got with them as well.” “Ed, I don’t think they were made by humans. In fact, I don’t think humans ever lived here,” I interrupted. He was surprised at this. His face was contorted in shock, like somebody pulled a rabbit out of his ear. In a skeptical tone he asked, “What makes you say that Elias?” “Well, I cannot sense anything human about this place. I haven’t told you, but I am what you might call a psychic, though I would not use that word at all.” “What? Such things are not possible my friend. If you are a psychic then I am the Pope.” “I assure you, that most people are not exactly in tune with what is and isn’t possible. I could demonstrate, if that would be to your liking?” “I would very much like to see,” said Miguel. I could tell he wanted it to be true, because it would affirm his belief in certain metaphysical phenomena that he had witnessed in the past. Later, I discovered that when he was 12, he stumbled on to a stranger levitating over a river near his family’s home. Ever since that day, he has questioned whether his eyes had deceived him, or if such things were possible. Eduardo indicated me to get on with it. I could easily sense his incredulity. “Ok. Now Ed, I want you to think of something that occurred during your childhood. Something that I could not possibly know. Perhaps the name of a pet or your earliest memory.” When the words left my lips, Ed had begun shuffling through his mind, searching for something deeply entrenched. It took me little time to ascend to the second tier of awareness. I was concentrating on Ed’s thoughts, waiting quietly for him to decide on something that fit the situation. His thoughts raced through his earliest memories. Through the years spent on his father’s small farm in northern Argentina, helping with the planting and the harvest. Watching the sunrise while his mother made breakfast. He settled on a scene of darkness and shadows, the day he had discovered a rat in the woodshed, eating grain from a torn sack. He was eight then, and remembered the shed as a cathedral of wood and metal. Instead of just revealing that I could read his thoughts, I decided to speak to his mind, just to jostle him a bit. I wonder how long that rat has been there, getting fat off your family's grain. His face, which had previously only indicated disbelief, lit up with surprise. “Why Elias, this is incredible! How is it that you can do this,” he erupted. “I have learned the technique, that is all. You are just as capable of using your own innate talents. Everything that I do is within the realm of human ability.” I sounded like Master. That did not take me by surprise. Miguel just sat there waiting for some confirmation. He saw his friend react to something unheard, but he was still waiting. "But how did you learn to do it?" Ed said. He was not going to let this go. "Ed, I know less about it than you think. Now let's get back to more pressing matters. This place does not have the appearance of a human settlement, and I can't pick up any human vibrations, aside from those we are emitting right now. So, I can conclude that this place was not built by humans." It might be a shock to just say that I felt an alien presence, so I left that part unsaid. Nevertheless, there was no denying that this place was an enigma indeed. That night, Ed and Miguel would not let me alone. They pressed me with questions about my talents, and how I managed to sharpen them. They asked if I could tell the future, or witness events in far off places. It grew annoying after a time, and it took all of my patience to answer their questions. Tarahmun, this is one of the reasons that your gifts are meant to be kept a secret. I wasn't sure if it was Master communicating with me, or my own recollection of his words. Either way, I should listen. * * * * * * That night, while Miguel and Eduardo were sleeping, I explored the city. Though there were plenty of buildings, I could find no evidence of habitation. No discarded tools or fire pits. No skeletal remains or empty baskets. The place was a ghost town, devoid of all it once sheltered. Aside from the cathedral and the obelisk, there weren't any other buildings that stood out. Every house was built with the same blueprint, and I could find nothing distinctive about any of them. Even the characters on the wall were the same. So I decided to rest and wait out the answers. On the walk back to the cathedral, I saw an ethereal form floating near the top of the obelisk. It was slightly luminescent, glowing like a distant candle. The shape was humanoid, but unlike anything I had seen before. Where legs should be there was none, only a wispy line of haze. The arms were long and looked extremely delicate, and the rest of the body had the same alien characteristic. The head was large and drooped behind the torso, extending well below the shoulders. I stopped walking and stared at the apparition. When you are a child spirits and imaginary ghosts frighten you. Your father or mother will comfort you and tell you they do not exist. You might believe them, or you might not. Master told me of the spirit world, and its strong link with our own. He told me of devas and nature spirits, that have existed prior to humankind. He told me of the divine consciousness, which exists in everything, and is intertwined with every spirit. He gave me information, but it is no substitute for experience. I didn't know what I was looking at. It could be a deva, or something else. A closer inspection seemed the wisest course of action. The ascension to the second tier of consciousness came fluidly as I thought about it, and I was ready to study the being. It floated in place, undisturbed by my activity. It was definitely a spirit unattached to a mortal form. In it, I could sense the same energy that was diffused among the city, only it was intense and focused. The icy wooden feeling was replaced with a glacier of intent and meaning. It has been here for millennia keeping watch over the abandoned settlement. It is an ancient being, residing here since its body decomposed into its base parts. In its spirit form, it is waiting. Waiting for the time of the meeting. It noticed me and the probing almost immediately after I started, and it sent a glimmer of recognition my way. Then it vanished into oblivion, or at least from my perceptual range. I knew that it was waiting for me, waiting for the solstice, waiting for its people to return. Its purpose was to unite me with its kind. I was meant to be here. His kind had known that one like myself would come, and they had left his spirit here to guard the gate. I knew that the obelisk was really a sophisticated communications device, left behind for me to use. They were waiting for me to activate it. They were waiting to take me away. To what I did not know. * * * * * * Sitting there, next to the obelisk, I was in a state of deep meditation. I was searching for the spirit, trying to establish some form of contact. Probing the countryside, I couldn't sense the being or any evidence of its existence. I knew it had been there. There could be no other explanation; I was sane, I was not hallucinating, and I was not misled. It occurred to me that it was intentionally hiding its presence. Perhaps to study me, or to avoid me. There was much about the situation that I didn't understand, but I felt no malevolence or ill intent. Whatever I had seen, it had not been waiting for centuries just to take my life. Could it have summoned me here? Was its voice the one who started me on this path? I could speculate all day, but there is no way to know. Somehow, I must contact this entity and get the answers. Having never contacted a spirit, I was at a loss as to how I should proceed. The being seemed capable of avoiding me regardless of how much energy I devoted to the search, and I was an amateur in this concern anyway. Relaxing even further, focusing my awareness, I pushed myself to the edge of my abilities. Around me swelled the perceivable universe. I became aware of all the energy changing forms in the area. I could sense the air currents, the heat of my companions, the plants converting free flowing energy into sugars, and the other subtle nuances of the physical world. I was far beyond perception, as I standardly knew it. I didn't watch things happen, or feel them happening. I made them happen.The capacity for vision to convey information pales in comparison to the plethora of sensation that one obtain when they are properly receptive. As I sat, it became clear that I would have to let it come to me. No other approach would work with such a being. It was waiting for me to come to terms with my situation, for me to realize my inadequacy. I could feel this line of thinking held a grain of truth. I could feel the conduits of my mind lighting up with the realization. If I was to communicate with It, I would have to take the weaker position. I would have to once again become the student. How foolish, to think I was done learning. That I was ready for what lay ahead of me. To learn is to be alive, or so Master said. You/Learn/Tarahmun. The thought came from that part of my mind that usually held Master’s wisdom. It was not him though. When he spoke, I always heard his voice, his words. This was different. It was not a verbalization, but a sequence of thoughts. It made sense, but it was not cohesive. I knew it to be foreign in nature, because never have I addressed myself as Tarahmun. You are the spirit, I thought. Yes. Why do you conceal yourself? It took a few moments for me to receive a response. I got the feeling that I should open my eyes, so I did. About a meter in front of me shimmered into being the specter I had seen before. Now that I was closer, I could make out more detail. The blue fire that was its body reminded me of frozen lightning. It lit up the area, casting everything into hues of pale blue. The outline was blurry and shifting, but it gave the overall impression of an alien squid. I could find no eyes on the figure, however. Its entire form swayed, as if it were moving with an underwater current. Being so close to an entity that’s only physical manifestation was phosphorescent energy sent streams of adrenaline flowing throughout my body. That sight will forever be imprinted as one of my most pleasureable memories. What should I address you as? Not/Important. Very well. You have been waiting for me. Why? To/Prepare/You. What for? /Change. What does that mean? You/Will/Carry/God. As the thought floated through my mind, I was wordless. Questions flew around my head. How could one carry God? Is such a thing possible? I believed that all life is the vessel of Eternal Divine Oneness, what certain people would call 'God', but this idea shook me. In order for me to carry God, there would have to be a physical form of God. While such a theme has been written into every mythology I have ever heard of, I always figured it to be an expression of Eternal Divine Oneness, not to be taken literally. Perhaps there is some miscommunication going on. He is, after all, an alien. Maybe we have different concepts of what constitutes divinity. Well, even if we don't fully understand each other, it wouldn’t hurt to gain some alien wisdom. What must I learn? Little. You/Wise. You/Need/Sleep. Why? Easy/Teach/When/Sleep. Very well. I shall sleep. It would be best if you did not show yourself to the others. I do not think they are ready. Yes/Humans/Fearful. At least it was aware of certain details of human existence. I stood up, walked over to our camp, and lay down on my sleeping bag. I fell asleep quickly, with the assistance of a meditation technique Master taught me, and soon after my brain went on stand-by. But, that didn't last long. I was motionless, lying on the ground. And, within moments, images and words began to flash through my brain at speeds that felt like the flesh was going to explode right out of my skull. I couldn't register the meaning behind the words; it was all proceeding so rapidly. I have experienced insomnia, and other wanderrings of the mind. This was something wholly different. Nothing I had experienced compared to this sensation. I felt as if I were sitting in a cinema watching a film, while time was being accelerated to an incredible velocity. I was that man from ‘A Clockwork Orange’, being forced to watch as time went into overdrive, and the minutes grew shorter. The pictures flew through my mind; being caught by collections of neurons in the single instant they were visible. My subconscious mind was storing everything I was being shown, but I could not connect the data in any meaningful way. After what seemed like eons, the procession stopped, and I was able to get the mental rest I needed. Slipping into the depths of sleep, I heard music. It reverberated within me. My eyes, my ears, and my feet; all of them vibrate to the rhythym. It is pleasant, a distant sonata, something I have never heard before. It dripped with emotion, climbing to crescendos of exaltation and bottoming out with somber bridges and intonations of sorrow.