The Revolutions of Time Page 4

  Not wishing to delve too far into my past or relate what would bemundane and disconnected with my story, I will summarize with brevitywhat my situation was. I was a military man, an Air force pilot to beexact, and was on active duty patrolling the no-fly zones off the coastof China, it being, at that time, an area of very high tensions. Thesituation was grim, as any small incident promised to set the pendulumsof war into motion, but the worst had subsided, and things werebeginning to look as if that incendiary incident wouldn't come afterall. The main part of my story begins on a cloudy night of what was tome just a few weeks back, though it seems like many ages ago now, andindeed, it was.

  I was flying over an area that was littered with small volcanic islands,the type that rise above or fall below sea level continually, so thatwhat one year is above water is later below. Some of them have even beenknown to only rise above the waves for a short time, and then vanishfrom the sea completely, worn down by wind and waves. The night wasmurky, and the air was thick with water and dust, the result being thatthere was no natural light whatsoever, and any artificial light thatcould be mustered was largely reduced to nothing, visibility being nomore than twenty feet.

  The wind was calm and the flying, though strenuous from lack of sight,was without turbulence. I was doing well, until out of nowhere I heard aloud crack of thunder, followed by a bolt of lightning that hit theplane. At once I lost all of the instruments, excepting the actualcontrol of the plane in manual, meaning that the radar and all theguidance systems were crippled, and I could see nothing. Not knowingwhat to do, and not being able to radio for help, I pulled down andslowed until I was just barely remaining airborne, and began looking foran island to land on.

  Once below 200 feet, the clouds gave way and I saw an island. I aimedfor it and slowed more, preparing to land on it. I did, though justbarely, for it was extremely small, being one of those inconsistentvolcanic islands. Getting out of the plane, I was greeted by a strongblast of wind that was dripping water from its cold grip, and I wasinstantly chilled to the bone. There was nothing on the island at all,except for the hole in its center, from which, no doubt, came the lavathat had formed it. It was on a slightly elevated hill, and looked as ifit had not erupted for many thousands of years. With nothing to do atthat moment except to get an idea of the island that I had landed on, Iwalked over to it and knelt down beside it, peering blankly into itsdepths. It seemed to be absolutely devoid of light, and, as oftenhappens, its darkness was mysterious to me, for I wondered what layhidden in it, and my curiosity got the better of my common sense. Ileaned slowly forward. Then, as I did so, I heard a loud and terriblevoice, personified in the crashing of the waves and the moaning of thewind, and it said in a monotonous and unending refrain, "Enter." Nothingmore nor less than the continual repetition of that word. This alarmedme, and as I did not want to do that, I began to stand upright and backaway from it, to return to my plane. But as I raised my knee from theground in order to stand, my other knee slipped under the increasedpressure, and in the ensuing instability, I completely lost my balanceand fell forward into the hole.

  There are certain events in our lives that change the whole course ofour existence, and falling forward into the hole was one for me. Itsimmediate effects weren't injurious to me at all, but it matured withtime, like a good wine, and grew until it overcame me, starting thechain of events which would result in my demise. Yet not only mine, butthat of everyone.

  Let me continue, though, and I will explain what I mean and not confuseyou more. I landed with a thud on a pile of soft dirt some twenty feetdown, in a dark place which seemed open, not cavernous and cramped as Iwould have expected. My eyes adjusted to the darkness, and as they did,I realized it was not now totally lightless, for there was a faint glowcoming from somewhere in the distance. Looking up through the passage Ihad come down, I saw that there was no way to climb up it, and,accordingly, set off to find the source of the faint light that camefrom the distance. After walking cautiously through the darkness, Ireached a curve and then a tunnel-like exit to the spacious cavern thatI was in, and as I turned it I saw the source of the light: lava flows.The room, or area, I had entered was rather thin and round, with a riverof lava flowing downwards and a small ledge of rock winding along itsedge. Together they descended spirally downwards at a gentle angle,taking the form of an intelligently designed ramp. As I followed it downI soon broke out in a sweat, for the gurgling, fiery plasma heated thearea up to a warm degree.

  I found myself looking intently at the flowing fire beside which Iwalked, its strangeness stealing my meditations from other things, and Ilooked at it absorbingly, not paying attention to the path that I walkedon, so entranced was I with the feeling that its boiling character gaveto me.

  As I walked along the lava preoccupied with my meditations and notpaying conscious attention to the path, my subconscious was carefullymonitoring my way, and when once my eyes glanced upward, I quickly sawthat my surroundings had changed. The narrow, spiral descending tunnelhad given way to a very cavernous area where the lava flow formed alarge lake of fire. A domed ceiling crowned this great room, though notexact and polished, having instead a rough appearance as it stretchedfrom wall to wall, a semi-chasm of a hundred yards, more or less, withits uppermost height being not less than twenty yards. On the far wallswere two lava falls, trickling from raised tunnels in the wall into thebody of lava, which covered the whole bottom of the room. There was aplatform that sat in the middle of the fiery lake, connected to thetunnel I had come from by a walkway of stone. This room was differentthan the other two, also, in its fashion, for while the previous hadvague evidences of intelligent design, this one was very obviouslyartificially decorated. The walkway above mentioned was of ornate stonewith an intricate design of circles, squares, and triangles carved intoit, and on each corner of the center stage was a long pillar thatreached from floor to ceiling, each carved like a totem pole, with avariety of animals and shapes stacked upon one another. The dome wasdone ornately as well, for I saw as I walked further into the room thatwhat I had thought had been imperfections in the dome proved to be anelaborate three dimensional sculpture that stuck out from the ceiling,depicting an intricate scene of figures and telling a story of somegreat saga of war and peace, pride and prejudice, love and hate, faithand betrayal, all combined to make the greatest mural: history, thestory of time itself.

  As I looked in awe upon its beauty, I was startled by a voice comingfrom an unseen figure somewhere on the center platform. It said, "Jehu,you have come at last. Welcome."

  The voice was very gentle and pleasing to the ears, slowly andconfidently spoken, meticulously articulated. I looked around in itsdirection and saw a short, elderly gnome with a long white beardreaching to his chest and a short crop of hair on his oblong head, whichwas outfitted with a sharp, angular nose, a pair of sparkling eyes, andtwo protruding ears. He was no more than four feet tall, and no lessthan three, with a dignified poise to him, and was dressed in a darkrobe with a black and gold design on it. We looked at each other for amoment, he smiling pleasantly and me expressionless, for though I feltthat I should be surprised, or at least bewildered, at the sight of agnome in an underground cavern, I was not, it was as if I had almostbeen expecting it to happen, as if in the back of my mind I had alreadybeen there and done that. Perhaps it was only a case of predestined dejavu, or maybe it was something less tangible. Either way, the gnome thenbroke the silence again, saying:

  "Let me introduce myself, Jehu. I am Onan, the Lord of the Past, andthese are the Chambers of History."

  He then paused for a moment, waiting for my reaction, which was, again,not too much surprised, but rather complacent, thought I didn't lookbored or snobbish, as is sometimes the case in that situation. Instead Ibecame as genial as possible, realizing that whatever force was behindthis, it was greater than I.

  "Hello, Onan, it is pleasure to meet you," I said, advancing with aproffered hand extended towards him, which I realized belatedly made meappear oafish, but he took it go
od-naturedly, and with his pleasantnesseliminated my unease at shaking the hand of one half my size. He thenbeckoned for me to follow him, and turned and walked to the center ofthe platform, where he unexpectedly laid down on his back, facing themuraled dome. I did the same, somewhat hesitantly, though I found it tobe quite comfortable once I was down. He saw my sluggishness and by wayof explanation said to me:

  "Do not be troubled, my dear Jehu, for we lie on our backs to bringabout clarity of mind."

  Then he continued speaking, calling my attention to the sculptured dome:

  "That is history," he said.

  "What do you mean," I asked, "I've always viewed history as an organicbeing, constantly growing as it devours the present."

  "It is an organic being," he replied, "A monstrous beast of sorts. Butthat (meaning the mural on the dome), my friend, is the genetics ofhistory, its code that dictates what it is and what it will become, themaster plan."

  Allow me to take a moment to describe the mural for you. Firstly, itsform: it was spread out across the dome like the painted ceiling of theSistine Chapel, its whole being a broad, harmonious picture thatcomplimented itself, telling a story throughout its united branches. Itwas much more than a painting, though, because it stood out from thedome like a group of completely independent sculptures, but placed so asto tell the combined story with a sort of native ease, not stressed orartificial, yet seeming as natural and beautiful as water in its flowinggrace. Now I will endeavor to describe its content, though I realizethat in this case the picture must be worth many millions of words.

  The center of the mural was its beginning, and there a man was standingproudly upright, dressed in splendid clothes of fine linens. He held inhis hand a magnificent cup of gold with a row each of diamonds, rubies,sapphires, and pearls running along its breadth. It contained a dark redliquid, which appeared to be boiling, and the man was holding it out toa fierce lion whose shoulders were four feet across and whose mouth waslike a cavern, with stalactites and stalagmites of the most terrifyingnature. With an evil glare in its eyes toward the man, the lion drankthirstily from the cup. Around the man and the lion there was a ring ofblazing fire, leaping out of the dome like great pillars of flame,entrapping them within its narrow circle. On the outside of the fire wasa group of mighty lizards and beasts, the smallest of which was largerthan several elephants. Their whole attention was paid to a great fightin which they were engaged, yet their foe was naught but the reflectionsof themselves on the great sea which surrounded the island that heldthese strange sights. Several of them were dead or severely wounded athaving been accidentally mauled by their fighting brethren. Across theocean from the island there was another landmass, whose far edges werenot in sight. On it were many ape-men bowing down in worship of agigantic White Eagle which was soaring far above them with a multitudeof lords and ladies gripped in its massive talons. The lords weredressed in silken robes and adorned with many pieces of fine jewelry,and the ladies were clothed in skirts of crimson; both groups had upontheir faces looks of pleasure, and contempt towards those far belowthem.

  Onan continued speaking, "You see, Jehu, the whole of history, both thatnow written and that yet to come, is planned, executed according to itsown power, for the course of time is marked as clearly as the tides: byits own coming and going it is revealed. Revealed, however, only in anabstract and undefined manner, so that while its marks are clearly seen,it is only by special revelations that it is shown in a comprehensiveand detailed light. And that is why I have summoned you here, my dearJehu, for you are the chosen one, summoned to help me."

  I was skeptical and asked him, "You summoned me? But how, I was toforced to crash land on the island by the weather, and accidentally fellinto the volcano's mouth. It was by my own freewill decisions that thecircumstances of my arrival here were fulfilled."

  Onan laughed quietly and said, "History is not an unstoppable machine,allied with fate to control the destiny of all things past and future,nor does it nullify the power of man's freewill, yet the force that actsupon the minds of men to form them is history itself. You see, men arenot the opponents of history and fate, for they do not impede itsprogress with their freewill decisions, instead they are its minions,its slaves, building up its strength and carrying out its dictates byits influence, so that they become history as they serve it, adding toits organism their own consciouses. While you were brought to theseChambers by circumstances of your own choosing, your desires in choosingthose circumstances were dictated by the experiences of the past. Butnever mind how I summoned you, for you are here now."

  "Very well," I said, not wishing to disagree with the Lord of the Past.Still, I was in a stubborn frame of mind, and asked, "But if the past isas powerful as you construe it to be, then why does the Lord of the Pastneed the help of a mere mortal like myself? Or do you mean you need amore direct agent than those you control only by influence?"

  "Something like that," he answered. "You see, there was a great disasteronce, which was blamed on me, and in order to atone for it, I promisedto send a kinsman redeemer before anything so devastating happenedagain, and I believe you are the perfect choice."

  "What devastating event hasn't been blamed on the past in one form oranother?" I said, "But why not just go yourself?"

  "It is against the rules," Onan told me.

  "How typical."

  "Yes, indeed, I sometimes wonder what good it is to be a god if youcan't do anything yourself," he said with a sigh.

  "What do you want me to do there, then?"

  "I cannot tell you, unfortunately."

  "Against the rules?" I asked.

  "Very much so. All that I can do is send an agent with a slightunderstanding of the situation of history and physical existence to thepeople, but he must make the judgments of how to proceed all on his own.If I did tell you, it wouldn't be much different than going myself, andthen there would be no human resolution to human problems."

  "Our lives serve as a spectator sport to the gods, then?" I inquired ofhim.

  "I am afraid not," he said, "It is much more serious than that. TheGreeks were not all wrong, you know."

  "Who else, I wonder."

  "Not many," he sighed, "But tell me, are you ready?"

  "As I'll ever be."

  "Then I will begin. The understanding of life begins with theunderstanding of physical existence," Onan said, "And by physicalexistence I mean the quality of being materially animated. Not toconfuse it with consciousness, which is the ability to think and reason,it is rather the realm in which one has substance and continuity. I willcall the elements of physical being time and matter, those wordsrepresenting widely known concepts. Matter provides the raw substanceand time gives those lifeless objects a plane of being to exist in.Without time, matter can do nothing except sit in a sterile state, in avacuum in which nothing could occur; and without matter, time wouldflow, but nothing would move with it. Thus, the basis of physicalexistence is time and matter, each being useless separately, yettogether being the perfect combination of a tangible object and thefluid, forward movement to animate it. Imagine it as a three-dimensionalpainting, matter given depth by time."

  "Not so complicated," I said cheerfully.

  "Not yet, you mean," he laughed.

  "Exactly, tell me more."

  "Not just yet, Jehu. First you must help me."

  "The time to begin has come then?" I asked.

  "Yes, you must go now," he said, "And remember, I'll be watching.Good-bye."

  And with that, not even standing up, Onan put me into a deep state ofcomatose and sent me through time to the unknown lands and people whom Iwas to deliver. I awoke, as you will remember, in the center of thesavanna. Now that you know the circumstances of my arrival on Daem, Iwill go back to where I was before: on the way to the Canitaur's hiddenfortress.

  Chapter 5: The Treeway