by Marie Harbon
***
On the morning of September the 21st 1966, the autumn equinox, Tahra mentally prepared herself to begin guiding the residents of The Institute. She listened to the new Beatles L.P, ‘Revolver’, over a cup of tea and several slices of toast, wishing ‘Eleanor Rigby’ was a more cheerful tune. Shortly after, the six residents of The Institute arrived at the farmhouse ready to begin phase one of their involvement in the project. Oscar and George had already had a trip in the machine but the others hadn’t, so Paul decided to minimise their exposure while they orientated themselves.
Emilie, Sakie, Beth, and Peter had a brief out of body experience courtesy of the machine. They responded positively and Paul sent them for a medical with Dr. Harrow, who was contracted to Max’s facilities on a part-time basis.
During that time, the residents of The Institute enjoyed staying with Paul and Tahra. The residents quickly understood they were in a relationship, which Tahra felt a little uneasy about but they promised to keep it a secret. If anything, it felt good to be part of their lives again, since Tahra had been absent frequently and Paul had hardly seen them since 1962. They laughed and joked like old times, sharing good food and fine wine while discussing the project.
Before long, they received another orientation in the machine, had a medical, and all four confirmed they were ready for the next step. Tahra led two separate excursions into the serpent realm, due to its beauty and lack of hostile beings. All four agreed they’d experienced something profound, that it felt realer than real, and that it radically altered their view of reality and the universe.
“You know,” Beth said, “I get the feeling we’ll never be the same after this project.”
Paul agreed. “It is life changing, and you can’t fail to be touched by the experience. It takes away the loneliness of existence.”
He took statements from them individually, finding their reports remarkably consistent, demonstrating impressive reliability. It became clear that the frequencies didn’t give random results, but that each combination correlated with a different world, or dimension.
Over the next two weeks, they made a follow up visit to the serpent realm and a subsequent visit to the emotion world, again with Tahra guiding them two at a time. By the middle of October, they were addicted to the journeys in the machine and were ready to explore a new world. Paul warned them of the uncharted territory, and they understood the risks, realising the field would power down after twenty minutes, bringing them home to their bodies.
Paul expressed a desire to go back in the machine so taught Oscar how to oversee the process, clearly instructing him on the sequence in which the frequencies and field needed to boot up. The hatch closed, the field powered up to the sound of ‘New World Symphony’ and Paul, Tahra and Sakie were hurled out of their bodies.
***
Tahra, Sakie, and I emerged in a world vastly different to anything we’d seen before. A deafening noise, or electronic screech pierced my ‘eardrums’ and disturbed me due to being so relentless. I couldn’t pinpoint the source, in fact, it seemed to be generated by the very medium of space we found ourselves in. The screech changed pitch and modulation, but it never let up.
I looked over to find a likeness of Tahra and Sakie beside me, equally horrified by the horrendous noise. It felt as if it were trying to invade our brains, attempting to penetrate the grey matter and communicate with the electrical impulses travelling along the neurons and across the synapses. After a while, we began to adjust to the intense environment and tried to focus on the visual aspects of this world.
The fabric of this world looked like the white noise you see on your television screen when it isn’t tuned into a station. The individual points of light jiggled and danced in a kind of cosmic waltz, spinning each other around giddily. I found it necessary to focus hard here, because at first glance you couldn’t see anything but once you accustomed your consciousness to its wavelength, you realised how busy it was.
In between the dancing points of light, I noticed other points of light that flashed on and off in miniature explosions. They weren’t dancing though, they were jumping. These points of light were, perhaps, travelling through this fabric of white noise. I wondered if these points of light were some kind of craft or vehicle, and if so, were there any forms of life inside them?
“We need to find the entities that inhabit this place,” I said, aware that the field would power down before long.
Tahra and Sakie agreed, although we didn’t have a clue how to enter the craft, or contact potential entities.
“I think we need to focus on a point of light and jump onto it before it pops up somewhere else,” Tahra suggested.
“It would need to be the same point of light, we don’t want to lose each other,” I said.
“But we are too big,” Sakie protested.
“Size has no relevance when in non-physical form,” I reassured her.
“I’ll choose a point and tow you,” Tahra decided.
A moment later, Sakie and I felt ourselves being pulled, or more accurately, being dragged at high speed. We hurtled towards a point of light and I felt as if we suddenly converted to quick time. Everything exploded across my field of vision so fast that I couldn’t take it in, and I had to re-focus my consciousness to adjust to this flow of time.
When I’d done this, I began to realise a standard flow of time didn’t exist here. Inside the point of light, I saw a very small, whitish-grey person with black beady eyes and no discernable sexual features. It appeared to jump through the fabric of time, like watching a reel of film not as a continuous movie, but sampling a bit here and there from different points in the reel. It seemed truly weird, for one moment it faced us, ready to communicate, then within the blink of an eye, it carried out something randomly different, like checking the controls on its ship of light. Was the entity subject to the bizarre rule of time here, or was it manipulating time as a means to an end?
“How do we communicate with it?” Tahra said.
“With great difficulty,” I answered.
The entity acknowledged our presence and pondered our bewilderment. Maybe we could attempt to initiate a conversation.
“Why does time flow in no logical order here?” I asked.
The entity continued to appear at different points in the craft, but it inputted a sequence at the control panel and some semblance of logic seemed to appear in the interior of the craft.
“Time is not what it seems,” the little being responded. “It does not flow in one direction, in fact, it has no direction at all. I have merely created an illusion inside this craft that time flows, so that you can have this conversation with me.”
“Is there any meaning to the flow of time, or is it an illusion’?” I enquired, realising that he’d done us a favour creating an artificial arrow of time.
“The future exists simultaneously with the past, and simultaneously with the present. All is one. The difference between past, present and future is an illusion.”
“But why do we have time if it has no real meaning?” Tahra questioned.
“Time is what prevents everything from happening at once,” it answered. “It is a construction of human artifice, a concept that belongs to the world of matter only.”
“But why do we have time, and clocks, and seasons?” Sakie asked in disbelief, finding the whole concept too mind boggling.
“You invented it, to tell you when to plant your crops and harvest them, when the sun will rise and set so that it will make your crops grow. You invented time to tell you to awaken and sleep, so that you may consume these crops to make your body of physical matter live and breathe and grow. Time only has meaning to you as you have constructed it; you require it to function in your world, because you require a limited view of reality to survive. In the realm of energy alone, time has no meaning. There is no time, there are only cycles: a waveform of light and dark, of growth and decay, sunrise and sunset, winter and summer.”
“Wait…
if everything happens at once…” Tahra began to protest. I think maybe she began to see the significance of the concept it tried to explain.
“This conversation happens at once, with no beginning or end…” I realised. “Everything we do happens at once…”
“Are you human beings ready to see past, present, and future as one?” the being asked us. “To understand the nature of time is to participate in it and direct it, to be at one with the Monad.”
““Yes,” I insisted. “I want to see the true nature of time.”
“Then see,” it said.
With that, it picked up what appeared to be a sword like the ones used in fencing, but it was more like a needle-thin laser. It moved towards us, holding it like a weapon, and aimed straight for our eyes. We all flinched, yet felt powerless to move but luckily at that point, the field powered down and the white noise realm faded from sight. I looked over at Tahra and Sakie, who seemed quite bewildered. We moved over to the cine camera and described the world.
“I feel like I’m going crazy,” Tahra said, head in hands.
“I’m crazy too,” Sakie agreed.
I commented, “We never got to see the true nature of time though, did we?”
“I’m not sure if I’m ready,” Tahra admitted. “I feel as if I don’t know what reality is anymore.”
I considered what she said.
“You’ll feel different in a few days time,” I reassured her. “You need a chance to digest what you’re seeing, that’s all.”
For once, I detected she didn’t quite believe me and that upset me. Was I right? I convinced myself that nothing ventured, nothing gained. Anything worth having did not come without difficulty. This project was so groundbreaking, so profound…we were dealing with realities so radically different from our own that it was going to shake our belief systems to the core. With that, we re-grouped with the rest of the team to relax and wind down. I’d take their statements after a well-earned tea break.
***
On the 21st of October 1966, Angelina, Tyrone, Nicholas, Curtis, Sonya, and Dominique arrived at the farmhouse looking enthusiastic and cheerful. Paul offered to make a pot of tea and guided them into the kitchen, where Beth sat at the table, finishing her breakfast. However, she seemed to drift into a trance, and spontaneously burst into tears, announcing between sobs that she’d heard the voices of over a hundred dead children. Tahra tried to console her, while the new recruits didn’t know how to respond. Did this place normally make people cry?
Only later, they heard the news broadcast on the radio, which added clarity to the psychic distress she’d witnessed. It transpired that in a Welsh village called Aberfan, a slag heap had slithered onto a junior school, killing a hundred and fifty people who were mainly children. It had happened at 9:30 that morning, precisely the moment Beth had burst into tears. She wished she’d been clairvoyant enough to prevent it, but Paul and Tahra reminded her of all the people she’d helped.
Although it didn’t offer a perfect portent for the next stage of the OOBE project, everyone mingled in the living room after a thirst quenching pot of tea. Paul laid on a buffet with sandwiches, sausage rolls, and cakes, thrown together at the last minute as they didn’t have the culinary organisation of Max this time. Tahra posed as a temporary waitress and put the radio on in the background, to encourage a less formal atmosphere.
Once the mingling had begun, Paul stood back as an objective observer to analyse the psychodynamics of this new group. Angelina and Tyrone became dominant in the group, although it didn’t cause any resentment, they were naturally effervescent characters who had a particular rapport with Oscar, probably due to Caribbean ancestry. Nicholas became the erudite connoisseur of knowledge and at first, Paul felt worried he wouldn’t cohere with the group but then he seemed to latch onto Emilie and become deeply involved in a discussion about something. There appeared to be a spark of attraction between the two.
“I see a romance brewing,” Tahra sing-songed as she brushed by Paul.
Sonya flirted around the whole group like a clever little chameleon, becoming all things to all people. She enjoyed the attention as everyone was keen to hear about her fledgling musical career. Curtis seemed to prefer male company, and Tahra made him nervous, although she tried not to intimidate him. However, Dominique clearly preferred the company of women and spent most of her time talking to Beth and Sakie. Paul hoped the wild card would turn up trumps in the end.
Tahra sidled up to him.
“I think we have a problem,” she said.
“I thought things were too perfect,” Paul responded.
Tahra held up an empty milk bottle.
“And there’s no more in the refrigerator,” she revealed.
No great disaster, it was a minor irritation.
“Keep them occupied while I drive into the village,” he said, quietly. “I’ll be back before they know it.”
He sloped off, picking up a bunch of keys from a hook near the front door. The communal Ford Popular borrowed from The Establishment sat parked in the courtyard outside, so he took that and drove the few miles to the nearest village. He pulled up outside a small grocery store then dashed in, relieved it was still open.
“Good afternoon,” said Albert, the middle aged shop keeper.
“Afternoon,” Paul mirrored. “I desperately need two pints of milk.”
Albert obliged and put bottles on the counter, telling him the price. Paul dug into his pocket and pulled out a handful of shillings, thrupenny bits, and farthings. He counted out the correct amount and handed it over to Albert, giving the shop keeper a pleasant smile as he did so. Then he paused, still holding the collection of spare coins in his hand.
Without warning, a series of vibrations pulsed through Paul’s body, as if he were in the machine. He felt his body become semi-paralysed and, for a brief moment, his perception shifted to the other side of the counter, just behind the shop keeper. Surrounding Albert he saw a most peculiar rainbow effect, the bulk of which blazed around the crown of his head. Beyond that, he saw himself standing as if captured on photographic film, still and motionless. It disturbed him, viewing himself not in the mirror, but in the flesh. After a jolt, he looked at the shop keeper through his own eyes again.
“Are you all right?” Albert asked him, in a kindly and concerned way.
Paul nodded, quite shaken, and put the spare coins back in his pocket. He looked back and thankfully, the rainbow had disappeared and his consciousness remained anchored in his body. Grabbing the milk, he made a fast exit, calling out a quick farewell as he left. It disturbed him so much that he hurried back, dashed into the sitting room and headed straight to Tahra. She took the milk from him, finished a few cups of tea then noticed the strange expression on his face. He pulled her to one side.
“Has anything weird happened to you just recently…while trying to carry out normal day to day activities?” he asked her.
“Actually, yes,” she replied, “sorry I didn’t mention it.”
“What happened?” Paul continued.
“Well, I was undergoing a standard remote viewing test at The Institute, but it was more real, like I was actually there,” her voice got quieter. “All of a sudden I travelled somewhere else. I saw a therianthrope.”
Paul digested what she’d just said.
“So, it was like you were in the machine?” he queried.
“I guess so.”
“Well, I just had a vivid and disturbing out of body experience in the local shop,” Paul revealed. “I also observed a rainbow halo effect around the shop keeper. Don’t ask me how or why this happened.”
Tahra looked thoughtful now.
“Using the machine has side effects,” she said.
Paul wasn’t fazed though, in fact, his eyes lit up.
“This is exciting. It’s changing us, taking us way beyond what we are!”
“What if we can’t control it?” Tahra asked.
“Don’t be afraid,” he reassured h
er, “this is a gift!”
He re-integrated with the recruits, leaving Tahra to top up the milk jug. As she did this, a song drifted over from the radio, one she’d not heard before because it was a new release by the Beach Boys. She stopped to listen to it and once she heard the chorus, inspiration struck and she dragged Paul over. He listened and realised its significance.
“I think we’ve just found the signature tune for our journeys in the machine,” he declared.
“What is that spooky musical instrument they’re using?” she asked.
“I believe it’s called a Theremin,” Sonya interjected.
“I’m going to find a record shop tomorrow,” Paul decided. “We are indeed going to dig some ‘Good Vibrations’.”
He walked off towards the front of the room and tapped a spoon on the side of a cup to gain their attention. The group stopped chattering and gave him their undivided attention.
“Welcome back, my new friends. Now that you’ve all met each other, I’m going to explain the reason you’ve been recruited, I’m going to reveal to you what the project is all about, what will fill your life for the next sixteen weeks.”
Paul looked over at Tahra and winked, consumed by the fervour and forward momentum of his experiment. She bit her lip, unable to quash the impending feeling of trepidation in her stomach.
***
The next morning, after the six new recruits had settled into their quarters, Paul called them through two at a time to receive their first orientation in the machine. Angelina and Tyrone stepped up first. He showed them the machine, explained what would happen, and reassured them he’d support them throughout. They responded well to the out of body sensation and were keen to go ahead with the project. Nicholas and Curtis followed, they also had a positive experience inside the machine then lastly, Sonya and Dominique took up the rear with the final slot inside the machine for the day. They had the greatest problems adjusting to the out of body concept, but by no means were incapable of meeting the demands placed on them.
