by Sesh Heri
“She’s gone,” I said to myself, watching Charmian being carried away upon the floating log.
“It is better this way,” the little man said.
“You speak English,” I said. “You were able to speak English all along. Why didn’t you say so?”
“You do not understand now,” the little man said, “so how much less would you have understood earlier?”
Over the treetops of the jungle TAR-A-GAL and his men flew with Charmian their captive between them, all of them astride the log. They passed over the jungle, reached its tree line, and flew on up along the slope of the volcano’s cone until they reached that red sphere nested like a giant egg inside that circular pit— a pit which, as they approached, was clearly not a crater nor any other kind of natural formation. Volcanic rock had been cut away all around the pit for many acres, cut and leveled like a floor. Amidst this leveled rock was the pit itself, precisely circular and one hundred feet in depth. In the center of the pit sat the red metallic sphere, two hundred feet in diameter with half of the sphere rising above the edge of the pit. At the very top of the sphere a long tube of metal rose vertically toward the sky; the tube was a continuous part of the sphere itself, the tube forming as a curvature at the sphere’s summit. This tube extended another one hundred feet skyward and there terminated at what seemed to be a pinpoint. Thus, the tube ended in a shape of what from a distance seemed to be a needle. Floating directly above the point of this needle was a flashing light.
TAR-A-GAL brought a telescope up to his black goggles and studied the pit, the red sphere of metal, and the flashing light hovering above it, and then shouted something in Martian. The crewman piloting the log turned them aside from their straight course. They were, at this point, about three hundred yards from the red sphere, and from this distance they flew slowly around the pit and sphere in a circle. When they returned to their original position, TAR-A-GAL barked another order and the pilot of the log turned them back in the direction of their airship, and then flew them rapidly in a straight line over the jungle that lay below.
When they reached the place where their airship had crash landed, the pilot of the log brought them down to the earth, and all of them got off the make-shift craft, two of the Martians taking hold of Charmian and dragging her toward the crashed airship. TAR-A-GAL followed behind, and Charmian could hear him barking more orders to someone. She was pushed through the open door of the airship, down a corridor, and into a room. It was the room where Dellschau was being held captive. The two Martians who held on to Charmian were joined by TAR-A-GAL himself who went over to the cylinder and looked down at Dellshau through its window.
“Old man,” TAR-A-GAL said.
The room was filled with silence.
“Old man!” TAR-A-GAL screamed. “Open your eyes! I will kill you now if you do not open your eyes.”
TAR-A-GAL’s head moved back, and he said, “Ah!” Then he moved his face close to the glass window of the cylinder.
“We have projected backwards across time,” TAR-A-GAL said, “to only now find the Bell floating above one of the time modulators. And the Bell’s field strength has increased a hundred fold! You must ask NYMZA why this is happening. Ask NYMZA for direction. Do you hear me, old man? Ask NYMZA or die!”
“Kill me,” Dellshau said feebly from inside the cylinder.
“You would commit suicide?” TAR-A-GAL asked.
“No,” Dellschau said. “You are the killer— and the liar.”
“You stupid old man!” TAR-A-GAL screamed. “You will contact NYMZA— now!”
“Kill me,” Dellshau said. “Kill what you need, mad man.”
TAR-A-GAL screamed out something in Martian and slammed his palm against the cylinder. He stood, looking down at Dellschau through the window, shaking in rage. Then he looked up, and turned his head toward Charmian.
“You,” TAR-A-GAL said, looking at Charmian, his mouth hanging open. “You come here, woman. Bring her!”
The two Martians holding Charmian shoved her across the room to TAR-A-GAL who took hold of her and forced her head down over the window of the cylinder so Dellshau could see her face.
“See the woman!” TAR-A-GAL shouted. “Ask NYMZA or she dies! You will be her killer!”
“You are the killer,” Dellshau said.
“No,” TAR-A-GAL said. “It is you who will determine her fate. What is your decision? Life or death? Decide!”
Dellshau looked up at Charmian.
“I will kill her,” TAR-A-GAL said.
Dellshau shifted his glance to TAR-A-GAL.
“I do not need to contact NYMZA,” Dellshau said. “I already know why the Bell has shifted in time. I already know what is happening and why.”
“What is happening?” TAR-A-GAL asked. “Tell me!”
“You must not harm the woman,” Dellschau said.
“Tell me, old man, or I will harm the woman!” TAR-A-GAL shouted.
“You are lost,” Dellschau said.
“Tell me!” TAR-A-GAL screamed.
“Could you even understand the answer to your question?” Dellschau asked. “Can a diseased mind grasp the truth?”
“Tell me, tell me, tell me!” TAR-A-GAL screamed.
“You are truly a fool,” Dellschau said quietly, “and a weak puppet of NYMZA. They have used you well and they have little further need of you, just as you have little further need of me. The Bell is the creation of NYMZA. Yes, they used Martian hands and Martian matter to build its body, but the design and intent of the Bell were all the possession of NYMZA from the beginning. As NYMZA let you Martians play with time, NYMZA sought to master Destiny. It was only in our time that tNYMZA could break through to the material realm, reach the minds of men on Earth and Mars, for the people of our era doze in spiritual sleep. Awakened beings would never allow themselves to be contacted and manipulated by NYMZA, that force of cosmic madness. But fools such as you and your masters who believe they rule the destinies of men have taken upon themselves the yoke of NYMZA. You are NYMZA’s slaves, and you have served them well.”
“Enough!” TAR-A-GAL screamed. “Enough of your stupid sermon, idiot! Tell me what I want to know or she dies!”
“NYMZA,” Dellschau said, “are attempting to enter our material realm. That is why they had your people create the Bell. But the earthmen deactivated the Bell, deactivated its electrical power, and this induced NYMZA to change the kind of energy they were using. NYMZA were able to transmit pure etheric energy into the Bell from their own dimension, using nothing but their own thoughts. They then used that energy to transport the Bell backwards to this time node where, because of a conjunction of cosmic bodies, the NYMZA are more able to modulate the Bell’s energy. Soon, they will project the Bell forward again in time to 1915, and it is there where they will emerge into our material universe and destroy all humanity— all humanity, not only the people of earth, but those on Mars as well.”
“I do not believe you,” TAR-A-GAL said.
“That is because your mind is diseased,” Dellschau said. “You have become as insane as your NYMZA masters. Fortunately, NYMZA will not be able to carry out their plan.”
“Why not?” TAR-A-GAL asked.
“It is the time modulator,” Dellshau said. “The Bell out there cannot physically join with the time modulator. This will be required for the Bell to be able to move back to 1915. Without that physical connection to the time modulator, the Bell is locked in this time, for it used only an etheric form of energy to transport backwards along the time-line. A forward movement in time is purely physical, purely material, and must make use of material energy— electricity.”
“Why can’t the Bell physically connect to the time modulator?” TAR-A-GAL asked. “Tell me, old man! Why?”
“Because,” Dellshau said, “the connecting link on the time modulator has been removed by someone.”
“Connecting link?” TAR-A-GAL asked. “What do you mean by ‘connecting link’? What is this link? Tell me, old
man!”
“It is a very small object,” Dellschau said, “the uppermost component of the time modulator, a small cap of only about four inches in diameter. It screwed atop the aerial rod that emerges from the time modulator’s main resonator, a two hundred feet diameter sphere. The under surface of the base of the Bell was designed to fit down upon this small four inch cap. Originally, NYMZA had planned to transport the Bell to Siberia when they had finished conditioning its ether at the Pacific Ocean site, for there in Siberia a time modulator exists close to the surface and could be accessed with some small amount of digging— digging which they would have induced you Martians to carry out. Now they will not be able to reach the Siberian time modulator. They— the NYMZA— and you— are trapped here in this time.”
“You lie, old man,” TAR-A-GAL said.
“I do not lie,” Dellschau said. “The cap atop the time modulator is missing out there.”
“How do you know?” TAR-A-GAL asked.
“The same way I have known the rest,” Dellshau said. “NYMZA have told me.”
“I know at least part of what you say is true,” TAR-A-GAL said. “I have inspected the time modulator here, viewing it through a telescope, and I have noticed that the aerial you describe comes almost to a point.”
“Not a point,” Dellshau said. “It terminates in what could be described as a four-inch diameter pipe with a threaded rim about its mouth. The missing cap would have screwed on to that threaded rim.”
“If what you say is true,” TAR-A-GAL asked, “why is the cap missing— and who took it?”
“That I do not know,” Dellshau said.
“Ask the NYMZA,” TAR-A-GAL commanded.
Dellshau’s face contorted and he moaned.
“NYMZA say cap was missing from the top of the modulator when the Bell projected to this time-node,” Dellshau murmured. “And the cone of the volcano had been dug away to expose the time modulator to the surface.”
“Who did this?” TAR-A-GAL asked.
“The priests of Mu,” Dellschau said. “NYMZA said priests of Mu dug out the time modulator.”
“And a priest of Mu removed the cap?” TAR-A-GAL asked. “Who was this priest? And what did he do with the cap?”
“I have told all that NYMZA knows,” Dellschau said. “The rest is mystery. Whoever removed the cap placed a powerful mental block upon the psychic awareness of their act. The taking of that cap has been covered with an impenetrable psychic veil through which even NYMZA cannot see. NYMZA have increased the power of the Bell using etheric energy, but even this level of power will not transport the Bell back to 1915.”
“Ask the NYMZA how I can obtain another cap for the modulator,” TAR-A-GAL said. “Ask the NYMZA— or the woman dies! Do it now!”
Dellshau looked over to Charmian and stared at her for a long while.
“Do it!” TAR-A-GAL finally screamed.
Dellschau closed his eyes. He lay still for several seconds, and then his lips quivered, his head rocked back and forth, and he let out a low groan.
“No…no…no…” Dellschau mumbled.
“What is it?” TAR-A-GAL asked. “What is it? What did they say? Tell me!”
Dellshau opened his eyes. He looked over to Charmian, and then back to TAR-A-GAL.
“Tell me!” TAR-A-GAL commanded.
“NYMZA say you can get another cap,” Dellschau said.
“How?” TAR-A-GAL asked. “How? Tell me now!”
“You must return to the year 1913,” Dellshau said. “There is another cap in that year which you can get without much difficulty. The NYMZA have seen this across time and are aware of it through a human mind-link.”
“1913?” TAR-A-GAL asked. “Where is this cap in 1913?”
“California,” Dellschau said. “It is contained inside a locked safe in a house.”
“House?” TAR-A-GAL asked. “What house? Where is it in California?”
Dellschau closed his eyes.
“It is in Jack London’s house in Sonoma Valley,” Dellschau finally said.
TAR-A-GAL looked up at Charmian.
“What do you know of this?” TAR-A-GAL asked her.
“She knows nothing,” Dellshau said. “NYMZA tell me this is Jack London’s wife. They tell you not to waste your time with her. It is London’s house in 1913 where you should go— the big house made of wood and stone where the redwood forest meets the wooded valley.”
“I know it,” TAR-A-GAL said. “It was called ‘Wolf House,’ and burned down in 1913. How interesting— 1913! That was the year the house burned! And now NYMZA tells me that is the same year to which I must now go to obtain the cap on the time modulator— and that it is in London’s house! Don’t you see, you stupid old man? This is Destiny! This is the unfolding of my power! I will return to 1913 and gain possession of the cap to the time modulator— and to accomplish this I will burn down Jack London’s house! You will help me do it, Dellshau. You will help me complete my Destiny! Ask the NYMZA for the time frequencies to return to 1913.”
“What need have you of the frequencies?” Dellshau asked. “You traveled backwards in time to this point without help of NYMZA.”
“We merely followed the space-time disturbance of the Bell on its own backward track through time,” TAR-A-GAL said. “We have nothing with which to resonate in a forward movement of time. Without the exact frequencies, we could end up anywhere in the future. We need the frequencies— the exact frequency numbers to take us to the moment when Jack London had the cap of the modulator inside his safe.”
“No,” Dellshau said. “I won’t tell you that.”
“You will,” TAR-A-GAL said, “or this woman here dies.”
Dellshau looked at Charmian again.
“All right,” Dellschau said. “I will make contact with NYMZA— God help me.”
The pilot of the U.S.S. Cypher steered the ship around the volcano until he caught sight of the red sphere rising above the slope of the volcano’s cone.
“Captain!” the pilot exclaimed to Mr. Tesla. “A mile dead ahead— an unknown object!”
“Approach the thing slowly,” Mr. Tesla ordered. He brought out a pair of binoculars and studied the gigantic red sphere which glistened and flashed in the distance.
“What is that thing?” Lt. Nimitz asked.
“The central resonator of a Time Modulator,” Mr. Tesla replied. “It is precisely the same kind of machine as the Sonoma Artifact, the time machine located under Sonoma Mountain in California.”
“This is the same kind of machine that’s on London’s ranch?” Lt. Nimitz asked.
“That’s right,” Mr. Tesla said.
“Only my ranch exists over twelve thousand years in the future,” Jack said.
“The time machine that is under your ranch in the future also exists under Sonoma Mountain in this present time,” Mr. Tesla said. “These machines are very ancient.”
“But the one in California is buried under the ground,” Lt. Nimitz said. “This thing is exposed to the surface.”
“Yes,” Mr. Tesla said. “A fact I find extremely intriguing. Do you have any good 1915 maps of this area? Say— a map of Guadalcanal?”
“We have good maps of the coastlines of the Solomon Islands,” Lt. Nimitz said. “Much of the interior of some of these islands is still largely unexplored. The terrain in 1915 is treacherous and the native populace is head-hunters.”
“Have there been any reconnaissance flights over these areas using airplanes?” Mr. Tesla asked.
“None,” Lt. Nimitz said. “And none by secret airship either.”
“So we don’t really know what is down there in 1915,” Mr. Tesla said.
“Not yet,” Lt. Nimitz said.
“We should make it a priority to find out when this is over,” Mr. Tesla said. “Take a look.”
Mr. Tesla handed his binoculars to Lt. Nimitz.
“Stop the ship here,” Mr. Tesla said to the pilot. “Do not approach the object any further.”
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br /> Beyond the pilot’s windows the red sphere glistened below upon a black plain of volcanic rock.
“The thing is bright cherry red,” Lt. Nimitz said. “It’s so shiny— why, it looks like it was forged and set in place only a moment ago.”
“Yes,” Mr. Tesla said. “But it is very ancient.”
“Why is it so bright red?” Lt. Nimitz asked. “It looks like it has been covered in lacquer. Why would the thing need to be painted?”
“Painted? It’s not painted,” Mr. Tesla said. “That is the intrinsic color of the metal.”
“I’ve never seen any metal with that color,” Lt. Nimitz said. “There is no such metal. What is it? Some kind of alloy?”
“No,” Mr. Tesla said. “It is a pure element. It is, in fact, gold.”
“Gold?” Lt. Nimitz said. “Then how can it be so bright red?”
“It is a very special kind of gold,” Mr. Tesla said.
“If it’s gold,” Lt. Nimitz said, “it can’t be very strong.”
“On the contrary,” Mr. Tesla said, “it is extremely strong, as Mr. London well knows.”
“I dug up an object on my ranch that was made of that same kind of bright, red metal,” Jack said. “I couldn’t cut it with a hacksaw.”
“The object which Mr. London found could not be cut with any tool available to us,” Mr. Tesla said, “and it gave the professors at the University of Berkeley a terrible fright, because it produced a number of odd effects, mostly involving temporal displacements. One of the professors was studying the object in his home when he was suddenly teleported instantly out of his house and into his back yard— on the morning of the previous day.”
