by Marie Harbon
The basic orientations continued for another two weeks, with short duration sessions run at forty eight hour intervals but by the end of that time, some were itching to move onto the next stage. Angelina and Tyrone were the first candidates, and Tahra took them on their first excursion to the serpent world, a trusted initial destination. The machine proved just as reliable for non-psychics and the medical report didn’t identify any problems.
In the subsequent report for the journal, they described the same landscape, the feeling of the whole experience being ‘super real’ and expressed a desire to repeat the experience. They were a couple of people after Paul’s heart, keen to break boundaries, no remonstrations. He couldn’t believe Tahra began to get cold feet, of all the people contemplating problems, she seemed the most unlikely.
Nicholas and Curtis were next, leaving their body to the sound of ‘Good Vibrations’, an appropriate signature tune with an otherworldly feel to it and Tahra towed them to the serpent realm again. Paul felt satisfied with the follow up reports, and the fact that the two men had experienced a positive outcome. They appeared to remain mentally stable after their encounters with the serpents, and looked forward to another journey.
Sonya and Dominique fared better than Paul had envisioned. In fact, these two women seemed most eager for more. He realised it wouldn’t be long before they were ready to explore new worlds too.
However, he wanted to give Emilie, Beth, and Peter an opportunity to accompany Tahra opening up another world, to add to their repertoire. He’d been so focused on the new recruits and their initiation into the machines rites that he’d almost forgotten The Institute’s residents. They were still contracted at their normal research abode, so he needed to ring Max to request their services. Paul outlined the next objective to Tahra that evening as they relaxed on the sofa. She’d just finished reading a chapter of a text book for the last year of study although she was, at times, distracted by the television.
“In forty eight hours we’ll scout out a new world,” he announced. “You can take Emilie with you.”
Tahra looked at him, not wishing to scupper his enthusiasm.
“I’d like to take a break from the machine,” she said, tentatively.
Paul looked disappointed.
“But I thought you wanted to push the boundaries…” he began.
She took hold of his hand.
“We’ve already done that, we’ve achieved so much already. I just think there comes a time to consolidate before we move on.”
His expression almost pleaded with her.
“We’re so close here. I’m focused on an expedition with all twelve recruits in February, with you as the guide. I need everyone to be an old hand at this by then.”
Tahra squeezed his hand.
“It will happen, there’s no hurry. We don’t have to do everything so fast,” she persuaded.
Paul sighed, realising he couldn’t persuade her easily.
“I’m…just aware of the project’s timescale, I need to show clear and definitive results. I’ve waited all my life to create a project like this, it could be the success of me…papers published and seminars all round the world, a whole new movement. I can’t lose it now.”
Tahra looked at the hunger in his eyes. This project had become the culmination of his life’s work so he’d never let up, he’d push it to its conclusion for better or worse.
“I love you,” he said. “I’d never do anything to harm you, you know that. Trust me.”
“Okay,” she said, kissing him sweetly on the lips. “For you, anything.”
She turned her attention to the television so that she didn’t have to think about the concession she’d just made. An episode of ‘The Twilight Zone’ came on, and she looked at the opening sequence of a spinning door in space, wondering if it was trying to tell her something.
She had to concur, beyond this world lay another dimension of sight and sound, a land of shadow and substance, one of things and ideas. If only the writers of the programme knew. Tahra agreed that she’d just crossed over into the twilight zone.
***
At the end of November 1966, I acted as extra-dimensional guide for Emilie. Nicholas gave her a kiss for good luck and stayed outside to watch. We sat inside the machine, getting familiar with ‘Good Vibrations’ as Paul played it in the main house too, and we wondered what to expect this time. At this stage in the project, Paul was curious to see what results would be produced by shifting the harmonics to the higher end of the range, so it was difficult to predict what kind of world we’d be presented with.
I took hold of her hand and gave it a squeeze. She still seemed wary of me, but I sensed she started to regard me as someone who can be trusted. Often I wondered why she’d previously disliked me but this day, we put on a professional show and our differences aside, whatever they were.
We soon materialised in yet another world, but one that we soon regretted visiting. This world felt heavy, something like the ‘pea soup’ smogs of London in the fifties. It felt as if your consciousness weighed more, if that makes any sense and it depressed me on arrival. It had a bleak and angry look about it. Pointed towers and large, stark trees of twisted metal punctuated the dark landscape, like a dimension based around an old junkyard. Large birds like vultures with huge wingspans dominated the sky, and swooped down frequently to feed.
I gazed at Emilie and noticed that she already looked horrified at the awful place we found ourselves in.
“Well, I guess we should explore now we’re here,” I said.
“I’m not sure if I want to,” she responded.
“I wonder if anyone lives in this world.”
Emilie looked fearful.
“I think there are people here, I can hear their voices inside my head,” she said.
“What are they saying?”
“You don’t want to know,” she answered, “but they know we’re here.”
It took some courage but we focused on one of the towers, zooming our consciousnesses there instantly. Moving inside, we found some of the entities who resided in this world. I saw foul beings that were disfigured and grotesque, covered in pustules and wizened with age. They brutalised other quite amorphous creatures, who were passive participants in the sick torturous practices we witnessed.
We watched as the disfigured creatures took one of the passive participators, who prostrated themselves on the floor, willingly I may add. Then the foul beings pressed a foot into their back for leverage, took hold of their arms and ripped them out of their sockets, listening to their wail of pain with a sense of sheer and utter delight. I heard their bones crunch and split, which made me feel distinctly nauseous. Looking over at Emilie, I saw how equally repulsed she felt. They repeated the action with the legs, and proceeded to mutilate what was left with a huge machete. There was no artistry involved; it was sheer butchery.
I pulled Emilie out of there, and I didn’t want to see it either. We withdrew to a point on the bleak landscape and found a huge bonfire, which we thought may offer some kind of sanctuary but it was just another form of torture. Beings of different kinds were piled on the fire, still alive and they writhed in agony as they burned. For some reason, I empathised with their pain.
Before we knew it, we lost control of our will. We appeared beside one of the twisted metal trees, where we found some creatures bound to it in the most contorted way. Each were suspended by a branch of a tree, which projected through their torso but their limbs had been forced into a series of unnatural positions, and we saw broken bones protruding through their skin. The vulture-like birds swooped down and picked the flesh from their grotesque wounds.
“I want to be sick,” Emilie said.
I grimaced and answered, “I don’t know if extra-dimensional vomit exists, but I think we’re going to invent it soon.”
Near the twisted tree, we saw a metal edifice that stood tall and it had a wheel placed on top, which was slowly rotated. Contorted bodies were woven into the s
pokes of the wheel, bones protruding through their skin, faces speared with the spokes of the wheel.
Something pulled us away again against our will to see another despicable sight. Inside other towers were scenes of a more sexual nature. Creatures were tied down with what looked like barbed wire while the disfigured, wizened creatures mutilated their genitals with broken pieces of glass. Other creatures bent over while large, hideous objects with jagged edges were inserted into various orifices.
“I can’t take any more,” Emilie said, clearly distressed.
One of the disfigured creatures shuffled over to us. He seemed to be a prominent figure in this world as he wore some kind of robe. He surveyed us intently, but this time I wasn’t the focal point, Emilie was.
“Do you sense the pleasure?” it said.
She shook her head, and I sensed how terrified she felt.
“Pain is pleasure, torture is ecstasy, and the ripping of flesh is the ultimate euphoria. We know your world and its liking for the pleasure of pain.”
It had a horrible, rasping voice and leered at Emilie.
“Our world is nothing like yours,” I interjected.
The creature sneered at me.
“Do your people not murder each other in the most hideously pleasurable ways? Do you not torture your own children with discipline and degrading sexual acts? Do leaders not find ways to exterminate the undesired populations of your country, and enjoy the sense of power that genocide brings? Does your church not rule with an iron rod of guilt and martyrdom, while it bleeds the population for money to feed its own power and gratifies its insatiable need for the sexual domination of young innocents?” It snarled with lust. “Our worlds are closer than you can imagine.”
It refocused its attention on Emilie.
“The people of your world hear us, we’re in their hearts. Some of you are sensitive enough to hear our voices and we can initiate them into the pleasure of pain. They think they’re receiving instructions from God.” it scoffed vehemently. “Our emissaries are increasing in number every day, and there’s always room for one more.” It stared lustfully at Emilie when speaking these words.
Emilie didn’t like what he inferred, because she heard the voices of others. She looked genuinely frightened and I’d been forced out of my comfort zone too. I had no control here, and we were being bounced around as if we were attached to a piece of elastic. It felt like an eternity waiting for the field to power down but finally it did, and this monstrosity of a world faded from view.
“You’ll return,” we heard the rasping voice seethe.
I looked over at Emilie. She’d clasped her head, clearly distressed so I grasped at her.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
“I can still hear them, they won’t stop!” she responded, beginning to claw at her ears.
I held her in my arms, realising we shouldn’t have gone to that world.
“Shut them out,” I suggested, panicking.
“They’re in my head!” she almost screamed. “Make them stop!”
Nicholas rushed in and took hold of her hands, then made her look him in the eye. Once he did this, she began to calm down.
“You can make them stop,” he said, calm and loving. “Imagine a door closing.”
“The voices…” she began.
“Are under your control,” he added.
That day, he saved Emilie, he became her rock. Once I realised she was going to be all right, I moved over to the cine camera so that the journey could be evidenced.
“I think we just found Hell,” I summarised.
***
I began to feel like I was reaching my limits, although my concerns fell on deaf ears. Paul saw Emilie’s predicament as a glitch, and didn’t realise how close she had come to pulling out of the project. He insisted I take Beth and Peter to a new world, as we needed to catalogue as many different realms as we could.
“I couldn’t cope with finding another place like the one we just visited,” I informed him.
“Yes, it sounds really sadistic and masochistic,” he responded.
“Let’s make that the last,” I insisted. “Stick with what we know. There are plenty of worlds worth exploring in more depth.”
Paul considered my request.
“One more new world,” he persuaded, “and I swear no more after that. For me?”
He kissed me on the lips and reluctantly, I agreed.
So a week later, I sat in the machine, holding hands with Beth and Peter. ‘Good Vibrations’ gave us a send off, and I hoped for a more positive experience.
I swept up Beth and Peter’s consciousnesses, and we emerged in a dark and formidable world. The light quality seemed artificial, created by an odd luminous orb in the sky. It looked like a sun in some ways, but it emitted an eerie light that seemed manufactured. I saw a host of machines around it, although I couldn’t figure out what they were doing.
Looking over, I found Beth and Peter had taken a familiar form and they appeared to be bewildered by this world.
“Do you want to view the artificial star?” I asked them.
“Will we be safe up there?” Beth asked.
“Don’t worry, you’re with me. We need to give a good report on our return,” I replied.
I scooped them up, focusing my consciousness on the manufactured sun and within a moment, we floated close to one of the machines. A distraction tried to divert my attention when I realised entities piloted the machines, but I decided to focus on the activities at the artificial star first.
The machines penetrated the surface of the sun, a kind of silvery liquid that gave off the eerie iridescent light. Inside the sun, explosions erupted frequently, the sound waves of which were low and booming, reverberating across the deep grey sky. Peter had an idea what they might be doing.
“They could be mining it,” he said, although not a hundred percent certain.
For a split second, I pushed my consciousness inside it to take a look and found an amazing spectacle. At the centre, I saw a huge metallic globe with serpents of electricity running across it. It wasn’t solid metal, it was liquid like the element inside a thermometer and when I looked closely, I noticed it spun on itself like a tornado, or vortex. It began to swell and the electric serpents began to pulse faster and faster. It built up to an explosion and then it contracted again. I understood the process and returned to Beth and Peter, who were relieved to see me again.
“We thought you’d left us, got kidnapped or something,” Beth said.
“I just wanted to confirm what they’re doing,” I explained. “They’re not mining it, they’re feeding it, they’re operating the star.”
Peter looked fascinated.
“Such amazing technology!” he said with utter admiration in his voice. “What our governments would do to get their hands on this!”
A worrying thought flickered across my mind, but I quelled it so it didn’t spoil the visit.
“Let’s scout the rest of this world before the field powers down,” I suggested.
We turned away from the artificial sun to survey the mechanised world itself. Beneath us lay a world so completely artifice, it was stunningly beautiful as well as being so utterly alien and inorganic. We saw a vast plain of metal skyscrapers and towers, each swarming with machines. At the top of some of the towers, vast spindles projected outwards in a spiral and the machines landed and took off from the ends of these. Vast mechanical spiders crawled over the exterior of the buildings, but I couldn’t tell if they were the entities that lived here or some form of transport.
Meanwhile, at ground level, we saw signs of life. The street plan, for want of a better word, looked like the circuit boards that you might find if you took apart a radio, and small machines whizzed along the connecting lines between the different elements that stood proud.
However, something stood out in the distance, a huge elevator. It rose majestically from the ground and projected quite a distance upwards, terminating at some kind
of station where machines parked and departed. The shaft of the elevator was thick, and contained about four separate lifts, or capsules.
“Let’s take a look,” I suggested, “see if we can find out what beings live here.”
Beth and Peter agreed, feeling more comfortable in this world now.
We moved towards the station and observed some small people moving from the machines to the lift capsules. They were pale skinned, like a whitish grey and about the size of a seven year old child. These beings wore no clothes, but had nothing to cover up because they had no discernable sexual organs. I indicated to Beth and Peter that we should follow, so I focused on two particular individuals and latched onto them.
The doors of the capsule sealed themselves shut, creating a seamless join and we found ourselves standing in the lift with the entities. We saw them more clearly now. They had huge black eyes, small slits for the nose and barely perceivable ears, which had a sharp tip. Their head was quite broad at the crown, and tapered to a point at the chin.
“They look like elves!” Beth exclaimed, in a whisper.
“Ugly ones too,” Peter added.
I thought for a moment they were aware of our presence, as one of the elves, for want of a better name, looked at us out of the corner of an eye. Neither of them turned their head so I assumed we hadn’t been detected. We watched as they interacted with a small console set into the wall of the lift capsule. A thick beam of whitish-blue light shot out of it and met a point on the entity’s forehead, between where its eyebrows should be. After a few moments, the light beam retracted, and the two entities looked at each other as if in silent communication.
Again, I thought one of them looked at us surreptitiously. At that point, I felt an intense pain in my head. I’d never known such agony and it consumed me totally, so I didn’t notice whether Beth and Peter were affected too. I felt my consciousness sink, as if I were collapsing to the floor and the headache got worse. Accompanying it, I heard an awful roaring sound building to a crescendo.
“Please stop,” I heard myself beg, not knowing whom to address..
