by Yasmin Esack
“Don’t blame yourself for not issuing warnings.”
“I do.”
Marin’s specialty was Reflection Seismology. He had spent years developing warning systems for earthquakes and volcanoes and had planted them at crucial points around the world, Krakatau included.
“The underground sensors failed us. Things happen,” Thompson consoled. “They were designed to give warnings in advance. We don’t know why they malfunctioned.”
“They were likely ruined by condensation. There’s no way to get around the problem, is there?” Marin admitted. His fear hung like a weight in the cold room. He grabbed a ringing phone. “Marin,” he answered gruffly.
“I take it everything is under control in California,” Len Tuft, head of the Army Corp of Rescue Workers spoke.
‘Like hell it is’ Marin wanted to shout. Why did people think that he knew everything? But he understood Tuft’s position. The President was probably sitting on his back.
“Everything’s calm,” he lied.
He ended the call and dialled Hart’s number. With no answer, he hung up and stared at the flashing bands on his seismic network. Tick…tock…Tick…tock the seconds moved on as the bands flickered ominously.
“Maybe you should give thought to what Tom Hart is saying.” Thompson was very troubled by the dismal look on Marin’s face.
“I called him, but, I don’t know. I really don’t know.”
“You dismissed his claim of an age of seismic reversal, an age of calm, didn’t you?”
“Sure did.” Hart was dabbling in nonsense, Marin thought. He was adamant that the Inca prophecy be taken seriously, not to his surprise. It just didn’t sit well with him. He couldn’t give prophecy an ounce of thought. “Hart’s a complex man, Ted. He’s a whale of rational thought and a tiger of the mystical.”
“The new age may be happening as we speak.”
“Come on!”
“Prophecy isn’t an abstract thing, Marin.”
“No?”
“Did he say when it will happen?”
“He doesn’t know.”
“Hart’s a true flag bearer of human potential.”
“You’re referring to his studies on Noetic Science, an obscure philosophy about metaphysics and the mind, aren’t you?”
“Our thoughts, beliefs and intentions all have some interaction with the physical world.”
“The physical world, Ted?”
“Prophets and alchemists knew that thousands of years ago. The physical world is a whole lot closer to our minds than we think. We ignore it. The universe sure has a strange way of conspiring.”
“What d’you mean?”
“When a person needs something, Marin, somehow the universe delivers it. Only Hart could explain it.”
Marin sighed. He could never forget the day Hart had shouted out in a Calculus class at Cambridge University, which they had both attended years ago.
“I won’t accept these outdated mathematical laws that show nothing of our life!” Hart had stormed out the class.
“Come back here, young man!” Professor Lapinsky had called after him.
Hart had turned around and walked in. “I’m sorry, Professor, forgive me.”
In a flash, he had grabbed a pen and started writing equations out on the board.
“What are you doing now, Mr. Hart?”
“I’m giving you a glimpse of the universe, Professor.”
“And, what might that be?”
“For starters, a person could be in two places at the same time. In fact, everything we see, including you, has an existence in a realm. Matter is alive, as alive as the mind.”
“I say, you’re quite mad.”
“I’m not. I can prove it.”
Hart had marched out again. Marin had caught up with him later at the students’ cafeteria.
“So, what was that all about?” he had asked
“Our real world is unseen, Josh. It whispers to us.”
“Tom, maybe you should…,” Marin hadn’t gotten another word in before Hart had pounced.
“And, it’s ageless, timeless. The unseen world exists. We need to explore life’s mechanisms and designs if we’re to understand who we are. Without that, we’re lost.”
Marin sat. He thought of his meeting with Hart later. Hart was obstinate, a characteristic he would hardly ever outgrow but he liked him and, he admired the man’s zest for honing the forces of life. Hart also had the distinction of being overly passionate and he didn’t want to have to face a confrontation with him over the Inca date for a new age. Hart’s ears, it seemed, weren’t designed for listening. He looked at his watch. In an hour, he would be at his door.
Chapter 16
It was 6.30PM when Hart entered his Alpine, New Jersey, home. His need for solitude and seclusion forced his decision to live in the quiet, leafy district, and, like his friend, Olsen, he led a quiet life. The townsfolk referred to him as Einstein. He didn’t mind the reference at all and cared less for the kids who stared at him. Hart had his moods, and, as much as he found socializing a greater problem than gravity, there were times when he did. Those were moments when he would stop and chat with his neighbours about politics and pets. He loved dogs but didn’t think he was around long enough to care for them.
He dropped his bag in the hall and headed to the shower. The strong spray of hot water eased the tension of his day. He dried himself and donning a pair of shorts and t-shirt, he headed downstairs and made a cup of tea and a marmalade sandwich.
His phone rang. He picked it up.
“I called to apologize. Sorry about today. I don’t know what came over me.”
“It’s okay, I understand, Jude.”
“Can I come over? Maybe we could talk.”
“Talk about what?”
“Us, Tom.”
“I’m expecting someone, actually.”
“I see. Who’s she?”
“I don’t have time for this crap.” He banged the phone down.
Half an hour later, his doorbell rang. It was Marin. Dressed in jeans and white cotton shirt, the stocky native of Florida was the catch of the day with his thick mane of black hair, wide brown eyes and a demeanour that was engaging.
“Come on in,” Hart motioned.
He took a seat in Hart’s living room surrounded by Rosewood tables and porcelain figurines. A large reprint of Ezekiel’s Vision hung on the wall behind him.
“All my life you’ve doubted me. I’m nothing more than an oddity to you,” Hart began, handing him a glass of wine.
“What d’you expect, Tom? You’re saying a realm is in us.” A whimsical smile emerged on Marin’s face.
“I am. Doesn’t the ear capture waves and converts them to sound?”
“I guess it does.”
“Our thoughts can be captured by a supernatural mind in a realm. The mind sends back new ones.”
“How can you say this? You don’t have proof.”
“I found the realm, theoretically. The challenge, Josh, is to prove it’s connected to us.”
“You found the realm?” As surprised as he was, Marin half-expected it. Hart had been working long and hard to find a mirror image of the world. He realized now that Hart was well on his way to proving that humans weren’t alone but part of a cosmic network. “So, how does the messaging work?” he asked.
“Thoughts can be transmitted by radio waves from the realm, but, honestly, I have to prove it all. Without that, I’m good as cooked.”
“I suppose you will.”
“I’m hoping to. Matter can give us answers as to who we are and where we go after death.”
Marin’s hesitance showed in his blank expression.
“I’ve grown accustomed to the scepticism people throw my way, Josh. One day, I’ll prove it all.”
“Maybe, then I’ll take you on, Tom.”
Chapter 17
Marin leaned back and shut his eyes. He was thinking more of his own matters. The San Andreas Fault was acting up. Th
e fault sliced the state of California in two from Cape Mendocino to the Mexican border.
San Bernardino and Palmdale were sitting ducks. But, that was nothing compared to the renewed Continental Drift Theory that was making the scientific rounds. He popped an eye open.
“You really believe I shouldn’t worry, don’t you?”
“You shouldn’t, Josh. The Inca wrote information in knots and threads called Quipus. The shamans knew how to connect to their inner realm. They received a date in a vision and recorded it. It’s a new dawn, the earth’s new dawn.”
“You expect me to buy that?”
“No, I don’t, but, give it a shot.”
“I don’t know, Tom. I don’t know.”
“You really are the ultimate sceptic.”
“Can’t help it, can I?”
Hart sighed. “The human mind can be governed by a realm, Josh.”
“For God’s sake, why ar’you talking about prophecy?” Marin waded in, becoming annoyed by Hart’s claims.
“And, why not?” Hart retorted. “What I’m about to say will end your scepticism, if nothing else does.”
“What’re you getting at?”
He looked Marin in the eye. “This world of ours will be reborn.”
“Die is more like it.”
“No!”
“Why’re saying that?”
“Because Isaac Newton said it, that’s why.”
“Newton? He predicted an apocalyptic end in 2060, didn’t he?”
“That’s a misconception. Apocalypse doesn’t mean an end of time but a revelation of something hidden. There’s no end of time. Using bible codes, he predicted a rebirth and gave an approximation.” Hart lifted his feet onto his center table. Dressed in shorts and a polo shirt, he seemed smaller but his face was hard with conviction. “Newton was quite obsessed with prophecy, matter and alchemy. His prediction was all about the destruction of ignorance, not the earth. A new age is coming. Don’t you see? Don’t you see? There will be a peace. The teachings that were intended for Mankind will be revealed.”
“Really, Tom,” Marin replied, his cynicism obvious.
Hart pointed a finger as he felt frustration rising. “The Prophet Isaiah also had something to say. From the rising of the sun to the place of its setting, men may know there is none beside me. For behold I create a new heaven and earth and the former things will not come to mind.”
“Prophet Isaiah said that?”
“And, I’m not done. According to Indian scripture, Kali Yuga, or Dark Age, began its end in 2012. The Ethiopian canon text, The Book of Jubilees, states clearly there’ll be an era of peace like none this world has ever witnessed. I truly believe your seismic data will start changing soon.”
“I don’t understand how an intelligent person like you could say that.”
“I had a look at Olsen’s Inca data.”
“What about it?”
“There’s reason to believe the Inca were right.”
“Yeah?”
“Atahualpa, the Inca king, said the dead spoke to his people. That’s why he mummified them. He created a cross known as the Chakapa. The symbolic habit of wearing black came from the Inca. Their god, Viracocha, was sent to earth and walked on water. Get the picture?”
“Information travels,” Marin remarked.
“Maybe it time travels and maybe, just maybe we don’t understand messages from beyond.” Hart stared, wondering how to convince Marin of a cosmic link to the beyond. “Josh, what if I told you I was contacted by a time-traveller.”
“What? You’re going crazy.” Marin had great difficulty in accepting such a claim.
“I’m not!” Hart yelled. “The truth must be told.”
“What truth?”
“The universe is in us!”
“Calm down, Tom.”
Chapter 18
But Hart couldn’t. He felt as if a whole new world was opening up for him. The essence of life and all that it meant was but a whisper away.
“Predictions and visions have been around long, since the time of Moses,” he said. “They mean nothing without a realm. I’ve found a scientific basis for their occurrence. We can attach significance to them.”
“You’re asking me to accept an ill-defined realm.”
“Ill-defined?” Hart was reeling now. “But, I found it. How could it be ill-defined?”
“You found it mathematically. It’s of academic interest, nothing more!”
Marin’s words made Hart feel drained of emotion but his eyes reflected untamed brilliance when he spoke again.
“Look in the mirror and tell me what you see. Nature mirrors everything on a grand scale. There’s another one of you, another one of everything and there’s a reason for that.”
“And, what’s the reason?”
“We’re timeless, dammit! We’re locked in gravity, in hell. We need help. Look, Josh, there’s an ancient text that’ll explain it all. There’s a realm in us, I know there is.”
“You don’t even know if Olsen’ll find the new age, do you?” Marin glanced at his watch. He turned and started heading to the door. “I gotta go, Tom.”
“Wait, Josh.”
Marin turned around. “Yeah?”
“Olsen’ll do it. I know he will.” Hart’s anguish had lessened when he added, “ Don’t dismiss it all as nonsense.”
“I…I…don’t know, I just don’t know, Tom.”
Marin dropped his weight in a chair gazing around. For a man who seemed irrational, Hart’s living space was exquisitely Decor, designed to create an elegant ambiance. His eyes didn’t miss the Windsor chairs and the lighted cabinets that housed DaVinci reprints.
Chapter 19
He shifted his focus to Hart. “You know what, Tom?”
“What?”
“Your nature’s way too intense and perhaps, a change of scenery will help. Why don’t you go out and meet some new people, socialize a bit?”
“You mean date women, don’t you? Have them look in my eyes with hope of a future I can’t give. I don’t know my own future. I only know what I have to do, and, that is to find a direct connection to our realm. The world is suffering, Josh. Look at all the lost people. They don’t know they’re so powerful and glorious that the dictionary hasn’t a word to describe it. We must have a better world, one of change, self-realization and love. Nobody pays attention.”
“To what?”
“A complete understanding of who we are and how we’re connected to the beyond. People should read Rumi.”
“The Persian poet?”
“When I die, I will fly with angels and when I die to the angels, what I will become no one can ever imagine. That’s the truth and he knew it centuries ago. He also said that the physical person was not the real person.”
“I guess you want to prove that?”
“And, I will.”
“Don’t you feel lonely?”
“No.”
It was a decisive no, an acid tone that bit the air. Marin decided it was better not to pursue the matter.
“I’ll wait for Olsen’s revelation, Josh, before I make any personal decisions about my life.”
Marin doubted it. He had tried talking to Hart before. Hart seemed destined to be a loner. He got up glancing at his watch again.
“It’s late and I really better be on my way. I’ll call you soon.”
As Marin headed to the front door, Hart grabbed the phone and dialled Julius Olsen’s number.
“Hey, Tom?” Olsen answered.
“I’ll be around in the morning. I have some deductions that I want you to look at.”
“Sure, Tom. What time will you be here?”
“About ten.”
“I’ll be here.”
Hart had a sense that someone was in his house when he placed the phone down.
“Josh?” he called.
There was no answer. He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was 8.19PM. It wasn’t long before he caught the scent of perfum
e. It was Jude’s. He turned round to see her staring at him with a gun in her hand.
“What the hell are you doing?” he shouted at her.
“I’m not good enough for you, am I, Tom?” Jude’s face was ugly, contorted by rejection.
Anger arose in him but he knew it would get him nowhere. Jude’s finger was on the trigger and she would pull it. They were eight feet apart, he calculated, with nothing but a sofa between them.
“Give me the gun, Jude,” he said.
“I like seeing you scared, Tom. I really do. I want you to bend down on your knees and beg.”
He wanted to tell her she was schizoid and that she probably smashed her pet’s head in for fun. He wanted to tell her to go and get help.
“We can work this out,” he strategized instead, inching his way forward. It wasn’t working. Her eyes showed little else than mania. “Give me the damn gun, Jude,” he shouted now with his hand outstretched.
“Stop!” she screamed.
A bullet smashed his lighted cabinet to pieces. A figure appeared behind her. In the melee, Hart barely recognized Marin’s frame, as another bullet whizzed past him.
“Grab the gun, Tom,” Marin shouted as he pinned Jude to the ground. “Grab the gun.”
Hart did and he pointed it to her face as she got up. The woman’s mouth was a cauldron of profanity when he shoved her onto the sofa.
“You’re going to sit there till the police arrive. What the hell’s wrong with you?” he said, his body trembling from shock and dismay.
“She ran past me like a wild cat as I was making my way out, Tom. I decided to track back.”
“You saved my life, Josh.”
Chapter 20
“You’re certainly not very easy to decipher, are you?” Olsen muttered. “But, I must find the date for the new age, the date the god, Inti, gave his people. I know it’s sometime after the last solar eclipse.”
The rains that fell all morning in the Californian suburb of Lake Forest had stopped. Sunlight had broken through the clouds and had made its way to a window where he sat peering at a sketch of an Inca Quipu. Olsen was confident of what he held in his hand. The archaeologist he worked with, Arthur Bentley, had assured him that the Quipu from which his sketches were taken was the one used to record ages.
