Circles of Inferno
A New SciFi Thriller by Nathaniel Bates
“Alright, so your employer is an alien. But you are under contract, right?” The voice drew on and the Union Rep listened politely. “Sir,” he continued, “it does not matter what planet your Boss is from. He is operating under Labor Laws and Contract.” The voice on the phone continued about interplanetary theft and the need for the Union to step in and to defend the laborers of Earth.
“We will, sir,” the Union Rep said, “regardless of where your Boss is from he has to obey Labor Law. We can win this as a grievance. We just might not want to be too exact about planet of origin in Court.”
The phone hung up after what seemed like an eternity. Harry, a haggard old Union Rep, began his career as an Electrician. He heard it all. The best possible outcome of the call would be to negotiate a Mental Health agreement between employer and employee, assuming they have such things on the Boss’ home planet. It might be that the Union would have to put a little muscle to push for retirement. The whole mental illness issue would be brought up but it would have to be sidestepped legally. Old electricians usually aged better than this guy did, much better. But every dedicated electrician could go a little nuts, just as an old joint has the possibility of losing its soldering. It can happen to the best.
Harry always wondered what life would be like if he had become an Electrical Engineer or a Physicist. He came close to being a Mathematics or a Physics teacher if he had only pressed ahead with his Electronics Courses. He had the knack for Physics. But, it was not to be and he went to work doing Programmable Logic Controllers. His friend who worked for the Substitute Teacher Caucus suggested he join Union politics. Harold made a life for himself doing good, and doing good for others. He retired to work for the Union full time.
Lately, though, the call talking about aliens made him wonder if the other track he could have taken, that of being a Physicist or a Teacher, might have made him more happy. He would love to meet aliens, even if they were lousy bosses. He wondered if other planets had Unions. Perhaps some already had the working class running things, like a real democracy. He stared up at the night sky and wondered if friends were staring back.
He also picked up a book about the lost Continent of Atlantis. It was not well written. Most of these books were not. His old Programmable Logic Circuit books had more of an intensity of interest about them than many of the Atlantis books he bought. But this one was different. It spoke to him through its pages. The idea of an Ice Age Civilization that survived through the snows of the Pleistocene and that thawed out of time with the Holocene excited Harry more than aliens did. If anything was believable, it was that humans could achieve heights of civilization that they did not know they could. Of course, Atlantis was lost because the working class of Atlantis never organized. This was the lesson for him, anyhow.
Harry realized that he would not solve the problems of the world in one night, so he left the Union hall and passed by several bars without being tempted to go in. Harry wished bars were more of greeting places between working men philosophers. He wished that the working men at those bars would discuss Henry George and Jack London’s “Iron Heel.” Harry wished that the poor farmers driven off the land would want to debate agrarianism and Populism. Instead the only political speech he engaged in was with a drunken flop who ranted against “Jewish radicals” and how he didn’t believe in their “lies.” “Well,” Harry responded slowly, staring him in the eyes, “You believe in Jesus, don’t ya?” The drunk fool spit when he mentioned that name and Harry picked up his drink smiling. Harry looked up at God and realized that he was in a den of iniquity. Harry paid and walked out. Give me an old time Grange Hall and a sober reflective working man’s hall any day.
The poor fool in the bar was an example of a man who could be bamboozled against his own class interest. But part of the problem were some of the radicals themselves. They were for everyone exoticized, but never the blue collar man. And when they sold out, as so many “radicals” sell out, it is to the rich man and not the blue collar man. And they wonder why the blue collar man will not vote for them like they once did! Eugene Debs was rolling over in his grave. And the employers were very much happier men.
The IBEW was a good employer as far as employers went. But he knew that the Union could not be an employer and still be pure. It was like the Church under Constantine. It was not selling out per se, just human nature. Freedom and equality could not be achieved in a stuffy office any more than fresh air could be understood reading a climatology book, or the sound of a bird known by reading Ornithology. Climatology and Ornithology were good knowledge for a scientist and naturalist. But both needed to drink from the well of human experience. You did not love your world by reading its symbols. An old timer named Henry David Thoreau once said you had to come to Nature as a hungry man to a crust of bread.
Harry went home to his apartment and sat with his one drink for the night. He starred at a picture of Thomas Skidmore, the rebel philosopher and freedom fighter behind the eight hour day. A copy of Ignatius Donnelly’s treatise on Atlantis fell on to his lap as he began dozing. A working man philosopher had to fight slumber just as Donnelly fought back against monopoly and corruption. Atlantis provided the fodder for both fights.
Harry’s old friend was a Substitute teacher in Oakland California. His friend taught Mathematics, Physics and History. One figured he was smart but not smart enough to have a wife. Harry was smart enough to have a wife but dumb enough to get divorced. Or she was dumb enough, anyhow. In any case, his old friend went on and on about hunter-gatherers and how Atlantis never could have arisen. But what about the Flood of Noah? What could that have been but the melting of the glaciers and the submerging of the East Coast of the USA? Hunter-gatherers would be the ones surrounding that mess and would remember it as a Great Flood. Survivors would tell the tale to their children and every culture on Earth would have some form of it. The immorality of Atlantis, its class divisions and its military might, all warnings that when one displeases the Almighty one does so with one’s tail between one’s legs. Besides, scientists may say that the Ice Age ended naturally but who knows as to whether man-made Global Warming was not a thing then. Perhaps the Atlanteans gave off exhaust and that killed God’s Earth just the same as our arrogance was doing today.
Harry fell asleep. He dreamed of his skeptical friend in Oakland. He dreamed that a student of his was not whom she appeared to be, that she was really taking notes on him. It was a strange dream because she was someone with an altered identity, a government agent. Whether she worked with aliens he did not know. Dreams were like that. But the whole thing was a psychological experiment as to the nature of the person. If a person was a person then deception would be exposed. But if a person was not a person but a network of emotions and perceptions merely, to be controlled by external actors, then deception can flourish. The war business required….The dream faded and Harry woke up. Somewhere in there was the Department of Energy and the Military, which got working men to fight other working men in wars instead of unifying them as brothers like God created men to do. But it was a dream, he consoled himself, barely understanding it as he got up in his chair.
Morning dawned and Harry ate well. It was Friday. After Friday he had a whole weekend ahead of him and he would divide it between fishing, electrical work, and reading labor history. Freedom was like that, the right of a man to decide between the sublime and the ordinary, and how to combine them into a right combination of meaning in his life. Freedom could never be anything but that. This is what the Atlanteans forgot, and what the modern world was forgetting. Freedom was the right to choose, yes. But it was also the right to have choices worth choosing.
Work began with phone calls from Union men who griped about working conditions, slights from Bosses and sometimes unfair combinations from co-workers. About 10:00 AM the “alien” caller came back. “The aliens are trying to force me to quit. They are that unhappy with my resistance to…”
Harry said “uh huh” and nodded his head.
“And when they interface with humans they only want to interface with the survivors of Atlantis, the Breakaway Civilization of humans with whom they have been trading for thousands of years.”
Harry leapt to attention. The caller was obviously crazy but when he mentioned “Atlantis” something made Harry listen. “Tell me more” Harry said, without intending to say anything but feeling compelled.
“Most of Big Business is controlled by the Breakaway Civilization of the military industrial complex. America, Russia, and China all work together. All of their elites descend from the Priests of Atlantis. Remember Francis Bacon? The guy who wrote the New Atlantis? He predicted the rise of a New Atlantis, the United States, hundreds of years before it happened. Nathaniel Bacon was his descendent. George Washington, Thomas Jefferson and Benjamin Franklin all modeled their efforts on him. If you read the New Atlantis, it talks about Underground Bases and technology like magic. It is all about the rise of America. And it is these folks who are allowing the aliens to invest in our infrastructure.”
The Alien part of this may have been bunkum. But the part about Atlantis sounded familiar. Francis Bacon spoke of an “island” similar to what would become the modern United States. How would ancient Atlantis become technological? Perhaps it was aliens. Or, perhaps it was interface with someone interdimensional. Harry leaned toward the latter. But all he knew was that the crazy caller was someone sounding more and more interesting.
“Carl,” he finally said his name, “If you are local I’ll meet you for lunch.”
The voice on the other side paused. It was as if enough time sounding crazy had led him to expect no one would have any social connection with him. “Meet for…lunch?”
“Yeah, buddy. I might just want to meet these aliens of yours and file a grievance.”
The two men arrived at a Sports Bar that served tuna and fries. There was a TV that played football, basketball and other sports. Harry was never that into the sports or the beer but he loved the tuna and fries. It was not that filling. Carl walked in, an almost retired electrician who lived on the margins of society. He was a dues paying IBEW member, well taken care of. He had a collection of UFO and Bigfoot books. Most of his time was spent camping. There was never a wife in his history and he would probably have to be taken care of by Union Brothers in the event of retirement. Many of them wondered how his mental health would fare once he was effectively removed from the work world, the one area that grounded him. In a way, Harry may have been his one friend at this point. Each bought their own sandwich, a good sign given that it meant Carl would not be a ward of the Union.
“I know what I know because of communication with me from a Hidden Superior,” Carl began suddenly. “They told me that the aliens want to infiltrate the planet and that the Breakaway Civilization, descended from Atlantis, was helping them but also hindering the worst aspects of it. The aliens respect them, the secret societies. They are creating a Space Shield around the Earth that prevents too many abductions.”
Harry asked who this Hidden Superior was. Apparently he was a customer who needed electrical work, a high adept in the Rosicrucian Lodge. The conversation began casually until the Hidden Superior knew he could trust Carl. ? The Hidden Superior was African American, male and over sixty. That was all Carl could say.
Harry got the distinct impression that the “alien” part of it was nonsense, that these were really interdimensional beings or possibly humans themselves. But even then something about his story rang true. These interdimensional beings—or whoever—- wanted to highjack the evolution of planets and perhaps they highjacked the evolution of other planets also. Who knows, but perhaps they originated on some other planet but imprinted themselves into the fabric of Space-Time itself. Ice Age humans who tapped into their power would have technology downloaded into their consciousness. How Harry came up with such a crazy theory was beyond him. It was more insane than anything Carl was saying!
“I want to meet your Hidden Superior.” The words stunned Carl but he agreed. Carl would set up a meeting with the Hidden Superior the next day, Saturday. The three would meet at the house of the Hidden Superior. Apparently the Hidden Superior was an IBEW Union man, a retired electrician, who only hired electricians from within the Union. The three of them were in close knit, a good start. Carl and Harry would soon join the Hidden Superior, a man named Jerome Jenkins, in the club of retired electricians with a good pension. This was a closed club and it meant they could share secrets. In fact, it meant they could share a lot of secrets around fishing. Fishing would be a great way to discuss Atlantis, Bigfoot, UFO’s or anything else on their minds. Retired people could do that. Retired people shared a bond of remembering. And the future being timeless – that allowed them to bond over what the world could have been and what it should be.
The house was big enough to be comfortable but not big enough to be frightening. The Hidden Superior sat his two guests in the kitchen. A Saturday brunch included coffee, scones with butter and a light dish of Naan and Curry. Outside was a ball for grandchildren. Carl and Harry looked at the ball and both had the same thought. They both wished they could go outside and play with it. None voiced that thought and the Hidden Superior never voiced if he picked up on the thought.
“Atlantis was a complex culture,” the Hidden Superior began. As if at once he gave a broad spread of the history of secret societies, of suppressed truth, of trauma induced by occult belief systems involving dark powers and then the influence of Light in trying to combat that influence. It was a confusing kaleidoscope of narratives in which one would be forgiven for not understanding whether the secret societies were good or evil. It seemed like the same secret society was both, often in the same sentence.
Carl eventually broke the silence. “What about Adam Weishaupt. Wasn’t he a dark influence?”
The Hidden Superior deliberated, and then said, “Adam Weishaupt was caught in duality. He saw the world around him as dark and evil. Thus he was entitled to battle what he saw as ignorance with an air of superiority. Duality creates justification. Revolutions based on violence only end in tyranny. He ended up replicating the very evils he thought he was battling. The same error is found among both Masons and Anti-Masons. In a way Weishaupt represented the extremes of both.”
Harry pointed out the most of the propaganda against Weishaupt came from the Jesuits and the British Aristocracy, both forces that could not be trusted to be objective. “Wasn’t it these forces that created the dark world we see?” Harry trailed off, wondering if he had stepped on the wrong toes.
“Duality can only be overcome by love in the Present.” The Hidden Superior then turned to eat his scone. “All that we see is Atlantis playing itself out again. Fear and hate. The Aristocracy and the Mob both reflect the duality.”
They had the feeling that the conversation would turn awkward unless all three walked out in to the backyard. Slowly the three men began to bounce the ball around. No one admitted that the Child in each of them was coming out. But no one denied it either.
“Ancient Atlantis,” said the Hidden Superior, “was ruled by 12 Kings who were originally elected. They then became dictators in their own right. The icebergs melted as the Ice Age changed. Survivors fled out among the hunter-gatherers of the world. Sad, but the Atlanteans brought the world of Kings and Priests with them. If spiritual knowledge had remained pure without that, think of where we would be now. Masonry and Rosicrucianism could never shed themselves of Atlantean influence, which is sad because it kept them in duality. This was Weishaupt’s greatest blindness. But it need not be ours. I say this because we are on the verge of an unprecedented ecological crisis. But we can have the new world anew, now.”
“Where is Atlantis now?” Harry spoke the thought in words but it remained a thought. A drop of water on the ball sparkled in the New Mexico sun. The distant mountains east of Santa Fe opened a vista to infinity that allowed an open sun to reflect from a raindrop.
After a moment of timelessness, the Hidden Superior said, “Underground Bases. Sad, but a new world beckons if and only if what is suppressed and secret can be brought to light and healed. Denial is not an option. The national security state operates in secret. It has allowed occultism, ritual abuse, and suppression. Why am I asking this of you?”
They did not know.
“Because the only way that the drive to resurrect the best of Atlantis can triumph over the parallel drive to resurrect the worst of Atlantis is if someone who is of the Light goes to the Underground Basis and exposes them. And who bears the light but electricians?”
“You mean us?” Harry began. It was not a question. It was a realization framed as a statement masquerading as a question. The Hidden Superior expected two washed up has-beens to be sentinels of freedom against the new world order?
“How will we get into this Base and what will we do when we get there?” No one remembered whether it was Carl or Henry who asked it first but they both exclaimed it more or less at the same time.
“You will have identities made for you. You will be electricians. Remember that unlike the shallow academic surface world, no one behind the Classification Wall cares if you have a PHD or not. Your knowledge of electrical physics, Harry, will be enough to get you trusted. You have to get your hands on the secret and suppressed physics down there and bring it to the surface. Once our side has it, we can begin a new age in truth.” The Hidden Superior handed them badges. He handed them names. And, most importantly, he handed two washed up has-beens the chance to be something other than two washed up has-beens. Freedom fighters of the past, present and future could not be more lucky. They could have said, no. But they had no choice but to say, yes.
“But, let me warn you guys,” the Hidden Superior said one last time. “Dante was one of us and when he went down the circles of the Inferno, he was doing what you guys will be doing. So be careful.” At that point the room was quiet.
As if in a TV rerun the two of them were on a tarmac in Nevada. They would be flown by a CIA controlled airline to a spot in the middle of nowhere. They would then descend in an elevator to an underground spot. In order to get the coveted spot, Harry had to retire from the IBEW just as Carl now had to retire. Close friends, known and trusted by the Hidden Superior and his friends in the Order, had a retirement party. Harry’s life then had a milestone, something he would want if his mission failed. There was cake, and, as if the Hidden Superior could read minds, there was the ball. The party faded in to a memory as the two of them were lowered in an elevator to the induction center.
Along the way to their work station, the two electricians passed a group of children who were levitating magnets with their minds. These were apparently “SLIders” or electric children. If a child had such potential, the government would show up and demand them. Their parents had an option they could not refuse. Human rights were easily suspended during supposed national emergencies. World War I allowed the military to have all manner of broad powers that were justified in the name of national security. Child abductions were one such power, unbeknownst to so many, but what was the draft in a way but a child abduction? “Bastards,” was all Harry could say to himself.
They could not believe their eyes. But there it was. Children were affecting electrical circuitry under the watchful eye of Uncle Sam. “Uncle Sham,” Harry corrected himself with the stubborn defiance of the old IWW warhorse he always imagined himself to be. Harry wondered quietly about the conditions of what could only be captivity. But he was on a mission and he had to keep quiet. A new world was dawning and the old one of suppression and child abuse would fight hard against it. Harry could feel the light dawning, but conscious denial was a Must or he would be exposed.
The two men were brought in to a room in which electrical protection equipment was dispensed. They were given an indoctrination into what types of generators and motors were used. It was amazing to Harry how seemingly primitive the equipment was. Ironically, no one in the Base trusted too much computer technology. It would give the Russians, Chinese, Iranians or even friendly powers too much leverage to hack. Everything was analogue and offline. It was strangely quaint. One half of the Base was called “Gog” while the other half was called “Magog.” The names were scary. There were also concentric levels below, off-limits for the most part. They even got the sense that the Base commander himself was scared of those levels. Harry remembered a Verse from the Good Book about the rich men and many others hiding themselves from God’s Judgement. He knew that quoting from the Book now, at this time, was not a good idea. But he clung to the Verse and knew that in bringing Light to the darkness he was doing his part.
The Director was known as “The Director.” No one knew his name. There was a rumor that it was “Hendrix” but that was only a rumor. Harry got the sense that much of what was known around the Base was rumor. It was hard to know the difference between rumor and truth. They were one in the same. Rumor had it that the children with electrical powers were trained in the lost arts of Atlantis, the telepathic abilities that survived the melting of glaciers along the East Coast of the United States 12,000 years before present. Rumors of this nature could never be verified. But, the rumor was the truth given that it was powerful enough to be believed.
The Director pulled the two electricians aside to speak to them personally. Harry did not know if it was an honor or not. He was not sure what “honoring” people meant in Satan’s Lair. That was as good of a name for where he was as anything. The Director asked both men questions about electron spins, Lenz Law, induction, conduction, capacitance, and even the quantum states of exotic particles. Neither man had much in the way of formal education, but the Director was assured on “good authority” that these men had a kind of hidden expertise based on the experience of real world electrician work. What this meant was presumably an occult or esoteric knowledge of electrons that would not be dependent on book knowledge. Carl was at a loss more often than not but Harry remembered vaguely his days of studying formal Physics, book learning. He answered some question about electricity and magnetism being aspects of the same force, separated only by Einstein’s Frame of Reference. It was an esoteric point that only Physicists understood well, that the moving electron would see another moving electron as stationary while seeing the “stationary” protons as moving. Those charges seen as moving would have greater charge density due to length contraction. Thus there would be more electrostatic force attracting the electrons of each wire to the other, felt by the electrons as electrostatic attraction but seen by a stationary observer as magnetism.
How Harry remembered this fact was beyond him. It may have been related to him by friends. But he remembered and this impressed the Director. Harry was terrified that the Director would ask him questions about the mathematics used to derive the formulas, even though he was assured Special Relativity did not amount to much more than Algebra and Trigonometry. He could tell that the Director himself was not a Calculus expert and appreciated the intuitive nature of the response. They had earned his trust. It did not hurt that the “good authority” on which they were recommended was none other than the Hidden Superior himself and sympathetic mavericks within the Order who did not like the corruption that had seeped into their beloved institution. What would happen to the Hidden Superior when it was found out he was not working for Base suppression?
“The Secret, gentlemen, is Atlantis. All over the Globe we have underground bases dedicated to the Lost Arts. Atlantis began as a bastion of civilization in a world of hunter-gatherers. It flowered to master Nature. Nature is either mastered or it is our master. There is no middle ground, no accommodation. And yes, gentlemen, Nature is a harsh mistress and it was the mistake of the Romantic poets to assume otherwise.
“The Scientific Age was right to reject maudlin sentimentalism. But, they made the one mistake, however, of assuming that the occult world is not scientific. They therefore rejected what could have been made part of science. That is why we are here. The Russians, Chi-Coms, Iranians and even the sappy Europeans with their wine and cheese pacifism would not understand it but we are weaponizing the very fabric of human existence. I have on my payroll PhD’s in Physics with all of the academic knowledge you can ask for. But, many of them are Commies and you cannot trust them.”
The Director smiled and Harry felt a wave of fear. Being called a Commie was something familiar to him. He appreciated the compliment of not being seen as ignorant because of his lack of formal schooling but he had enough life experience to know that when some man knew that he was a lefty, who was initially comfortable assuming otherwise, that trouble would ensue. The Director did not register any notice of a change of expression in Harry’s face.
The Director began to lead them on a tour.
The three of them passed Level One and proceeded to Level Two. Along the way there were genetic experiments of a nature that blended human with some kind of reptilian DNA. “We promote the belief that these are aliens for psychological warfare and disinformation purposes,” the Director boasted, “but these are Earthbound reptile DNA molecules that we blend with humans. Super-soldiers are our ultimate goal.”
Just like Dante Harry descended to the next level, but without any hot looking Beatrice to keep him company.
“Here on this level we manipulate the movies that the surface dwellers see. Most of them involve real American heroes. Macho guys. But it is time to tell all of you that this is not reality. American culture deludes itself with notions of democracy and heroics. The reality is that America is an organization even if not everyone wears bows and ties. Democracy is an illusion.”
But when the revolution comes we will strangle you with bows and ties, Harry thought angrily. The Director paused as if wondering if a hostile word had been said, but then reassured himself and moved on.
“Down on the next level we engage with telepathic manipulation. It is here that we bring the Kids. The Kids are, well, let us say, encouraged to play along.”
Coerced by evil adults, Harry thought with another burst of anger. He had in his favor the fact that the Director was authority driven and would not let himself suspect that anyone given VIP treatment could be against the Base. This was the one ace in the hole they had.
“The Kids telepathically mess with the minds of societal dissidents. A while ago we messed with the minds of some anarchists planning a takeover of a biochemical lab experimenting on animals. We managed to divide and conquer them, getting them to swear at each other. Soon the group split apart. Half of them went back to Grad School where most became poorly paid Adjunct Professors. The others ended up arrested for some petty nonsense. One of them picked up on our game and sought us out. We now employ him. How easy it is to get people to betray allegiances when money is involved!”
How much more of this Harry could stand was an open question. Carl was stunned into silence. Perhaps it was the fact that Carl was a conspiracy theorist that led him to finally be blown to silence when conspiracy theory became conspiracy fact. He may even have been bored in a way, Harry wondered. When conspiracy imagination becomes real life a strange boredom seeps in. Carl’s worldview was now confirmed and there was a strange quiet that came over him, as if all of his paranoia were simply a stepping stone to get him into a coma once the dark reality became crystal clear. Harry wondered to what extent “conspiracy” culture may have been spread by the conspirators themselves. The blank look on Carl’s face spoke volumes.
The three of them descended further and further into concentric circles of Hell. But still, no Beatrice. Darn if there was no Beatrice. If a General Strike ever came to bring down the system there would need to be a Beatrice, perhaps an Emma Goldman of some kind. No Beatrice meant no way to Heaven. Well, if he were to make it to Heaven he would have to descend through Hell itself. The lowest level of the place was Nightmare Hall. There were unspeakable horrors there. “Best left unremembered,” Harry said. “Best left unremembered.”
The tour was finished. For some reason they could not fathom, Harry and Carl would sleep in the same hall as the children. Perhaps they too were marked as possibly having some hidden talent?
The two men were brought into a room with the Kids sleeping in barracks. They sat up and looked. Harry and Carl had both read stories online of children who went through MKULTRA experiments. These experiments were urban legends as far as Harry was concerned, although Carl believed every word. Could the Kids read minds? Did they know who they were? Harry wondered how many of his secrets were safe.
“Hello young people,” he began.
“Hello, sir.” They responded in unison.
Most of them were gifted children who had been inducted out of school into government research labs. They “disappeared” with the apparent consent of their parents. In many cases, their parents were high level classified scientists who were promised that their children would be placed in high positions in society. Harry could see that the promise would only come true once the Kids were wiped of their personalities.
Harry sat down and realized that he was dealing with what in essence amounted to slaves. He realized that he had to plug them for information, information about the secret physics he was sent to obtain. He realized that he had to understand how they were able to manipulate electromagnetism to levitate objects. He knew enough to know it was not “anti-gravity” but it had something to do with ionizing air. He was right.
“But we do it with our minds manipulating the ionization of air. We do it because consciousness is much more than just the brain. While the brain is a kind of program, when we download it in to the Base computers we can interface with the entire Base. We are then able to upload our thoughts into Base technology. The only cost is our freedom.” The words stuck with him.
There was a whole other dimension to it. The Atlanteans had discovered ways that electromagnetism worked that did not fit the Standard Model believed in by current physicists. But, this model allowed for ancient sites like Stonehenge and the Great Pyramids to be linked by Telluric Currents. These currents were conduits for people thought by the ancients to be Magicians. In fact, they were consciousness engineers and not Magicians. The brightest students of ancient of days were elected to positions of Priest which was actually a position that could utilize these telluric currents to affect the weather. One such individual was “Merlin” of old. These were scientists of a sort, although of a science not understood by the Standard Model even in the twenty-first century. Ancient people could manipulate these telluric currents and affect what amounted to being technological miracles, albeit of a type that could not be reproduced. At the time of Atlantis, most of the Earth was populated by Hunter-Gatherers. Agriculture was not well known while the Atlanteans were levitating rocks and building pyramids.
The ancient world trained children up from birth to manipulate the weather, to control glowing balls of plasma, and to communicate telepathically across vast distances. Originally they were Shamans among the Hunter-Gatherers but the doorways of consciousness they opened allowed for technological information. The information was more technological than scientific, so the children could not answer all questions about the physics or mathematics of it. They simply knew that they were trained up in the history of secret societies and their knowledge going back thousands of years. There were legends of a group within the secret societies that retained a desire for a more benevolent world. But those were legends.
“Only legends. You obviously do not know about our Hidden Superior. He comes from a lineage all the way back to Benjamin Franklin and Thomas Paine. And, if you help us, we can help you.” The room was stunned. “And he wants to get this Republic back on track the way it was before the military-industrial complex ran amok. Can you help us?”
The Kids all gathered around them. Were they being listened to? They were shocked that these adults were not who they appeared to be but decided to trust them. Escape was not an impossibility but they had to act fast. The Kids realized that to get the knowledge out it was they who had to get out, get out into the world.
“The revolution has begun,” Harry said.
Outside of the room were guards who were undoubtedly prepared for the eventuality of escape attempts. They all knew that they had to plan in a multidimensional and non-linear way. A simple breakout using psychic powers would have been anticipated by now. And yes, it was probably already known to Base Commanders that Harry and Carl were not what they appeared to be, based on listening devices. The only reason doors were not being broken down was because the Kids did have some degree of power. It was in that moment that a powerful wave hit the room hard. It was emanating from the Kids, as though all at once. It was a type of ripple in space-time but it was not gravitation. It was more of a ripple in causality itself, a suspension of the normal laws of cause and effect. It was something that the Kids managed to practice outside of the watchful eye of their masters, a power much greater than anything Base Command would ever have wanted them to have.
Harry then saw an image of Carl talking to a Priest from his past, decades before, who was trying to warn him away from Conspiracy Websites that were misleading him spiritually.
“Carl,” Father Riley warned, “There is a lot to say, that yes, Super-Capitalists and Communists do conspire. Originally, they conspired against the Church to foment the French Revolution. In some ways, the hand of God was in this because the Church, aligned with the feudal State, was corrupt and needed chastening. But yes, these were still men lusting after power rather than God. On the Left, Trotskyists and Anarchists have also noted that Capitalists and State Socialists could tactically cooperate against revolution, especially in the Third World. So nothing is too wild in noting this theory as fact. But remember a lot of the Catholics who fell for the theories of Nesta Webster and Abbe Barruel fell into hatred. They fell under the delusions of Satan. The most dangerous form of delusionary conspiracy thinking are those militia folks, mostly Protestants, who cling to the American doctrine of self-sufficiency and fear that the conspiracy is taking them away. Ironic, because where indeed did American self-sufficiency come from other than the Freemasons themselves? They are hypocrites as well as hateful, more spiritually deluded than the Catholic haters or the Trotskyite atheists. All three groups are opening themselves to the demonic. Focus on God, dear son, and let Him take care of the real evils on this planet.
“Yes, Carl. The shadowy forces do run this world. It is real. I know of what you speak. When I commenced with an exorcism a possessed poor soul confessed that world leaders were deluded by them. But an endless number of websites blaming Jews or others for the world’s problems will ultimately lose you your faith. Our Lord was a Jew when he walked the Earth. And, by my old Irish bones, he was a socialist of sorts. So were countless kind souls who have helped the world. And yes, God’s Kingdom will be a kind of world government. Thoughts of hatred will separate you from His Kingdom. Choose love, my son. Abandon this futile attempt to keep yourself in a state of American self-sufficiency by drawing ego boundaries around yourself. God is Love, Carl. I’m dying of cancer, my boy. I was there at your confirmation. I knew Father Duncan who did your baptism, who prayed over you. Leave this futile effort my boy. The evil forces you speak of are real, as the Devil himself was made to confess. But it is none other than the Devil himself who will draw you in if you seek to fight evil with evil.”
Carl walked out of the meeting with hatred in his heart. Every step of the way led Carl deeper and deeper in to paranoia and suspicion. It led him to the very heart of the Base they were in. All of this was projected on a screen of reality. The message to Carl was clear as he was reliving the past. Father Riley died not soon after, a hole left in Carl’s heart as he had never forgiven the Father and began to lump the Church itself as another evil to be opposed. But, alas, the moment itself was present. Carl was not reliving the past. THE MOMENT WAS NOT PAST BUT PRESENT. And, Carl had the power to choose once again. This was not ordinary time travel. It was not a moment in the future bridging with the past. It was a moment in the present that spanned all of time. All of them were there. Carl was free to choose once again, to have the past that bound him evaporate as it never truly was.
The Kids and Harry watched as Carl, an old man but projected into the moment of conversation again, turned toward Father Riley and said,
“Nothing in this present moment can separate me from love. Yes, you are right.” Carl said these words, the wisest Harry had ever heard him. At that moment, the Wave shattered time and space. Freedom to choose once again was freedom to alter the space-time continuum. It was the freedom to alter known reality that years of abuse had taught the children to do, but which could not fully actuate until Harry and Carl had come. The adults who believed in them filled them with the power to believe in themselves. All that Carl knew was that his entire past had now been altered and that key events in his life would be different. All that Harry knew was that the revolution he had hoped for would be very different than what he imagined. As they settled into a material existence again the door was blasted open by armed guards. Harry and Carl took cover as the Kids sent a pulse wave out blasting the armed guards aside. All of them ran toward the elevator.
The nature of the world had suddenly changed and so had the balance of power. The new timeline would have advantages for them. One of them was that Harry and Carl now had the same powers as the Kids, an advantage neither of them anticipated but which would serve them well. It was just like the Matrix, Harry wondered, as he sent out a pulse that blew up the very electrical fuses he installed. Knowing the wiring was an advantage. He decided to use a few fisticuffs on a few of those really bad boys and punched a few guards out.
“I can’t go fully spiritual all at once,” he quipped.
All of them sent pulses that blew up wiring and were able to deflect bullets. Even bending of laser beams, impossible without gravity in orthodox General Relativity theory, was somehow possible by the power they had. Harry remembered that some theories of physics allowed highly non-uniform magnetic fields to bend light under some circumstances, but like this? He could barely conceal his surprise as the chief guard attempted to advance against the Kids and to scare them with his belt as he had often done.
“I will beat you more fully than usual and lock you hard.”
Harry then took a slightly guilty delight in punching the chief guard really hard. Carl, a German-American, grew up among Irish youth and was delighted. “A real Donny-brook,” he exclaimed loudly. Everyone paused for a minute, including the guards, to process his words before continuing the melee.
The guards were in horror when they realized that instead of leaving the Base, Harry, Carl, and the Kids were going further. They were about to enter Nightmare Hall.
“It is just like Dante’s Inferno,” Harry reasoned. “We have to go down in order to truly escape.” They reached the elevator and with their minds they unsealed the door. Lasers were inexplicably bending. Harry asked himself whether one act of forgiveness altered even the laws of Physics? Perhaps if more had been done they might have altered the entire timeline without violence. But, alas, change would come in time. The whole world was beginning to alter in ways that would only lead to the positive. They went down the elevator and realized that memories were now gone and new ones emerged. It was not “parallel timelines.” It was a past that no longer was, and one of those was, that the Base Security could no longer rely on outside support. A positive coup had emerged in Washington DC in which the dark and repressive aspects of the military-industrial complex, beholden to the dark factions of secret societies, was now being eclipsed by a Congressional investigation into the real circumstances around the deaths of Kennedy, King, RFK, Malcolm X, Paul Wellstone, and countless others. Little did any of them know, but the Base would have to be disbanded and abandoned in order to save political cover.
As the elevator descended, Harry looked in his pocket. He had documents testifying to inventions based on laws of electromagnetism that did not refute the Standard Model of Physics so much as it expanded it. But, Harry realized that what was actually happening is that Physics itself was changing! Physical constants were changing. The charge of an electron he remembered as being 1.6019 times ten to the negative 19th power coulombs. But, as he reviewed the documents in an elevator descending into the lower circle of Dante’s Inferno, he realized that it was now 1.60217662 times ten to the negative 19th power coulombs. And, in this Universe it had always been so! Popular books and movies had changed. “Interview with *A* Vampire” was now “Interview with *THE* Vampire”(and in this timeline had always been so). These may seem like minor changes but one thing was for sure. The martial law and clampdown that conspiracy people like Carl feared was now going to be one they could overcome. And, it all came from one simple act of Love!
Base security attempted to stop the elevator but the Kids, adept at electromagnetic pulsing, reactivated the elevator. They continued down the descent until they reached Nightmare Hall. Opening the door they saw human body parts in vats. They were being harvested for genetic experiments. It was a lot for Harry and Carl to take in. Even the Kids, accustomed to abuse, were momentarily stopped. All of the people were dead and could not be saved. The only thing they could do was to destroy the monstrosity before it continued to manufacture human body parts for what were super-soldier experiments. One pulse did the trick. It was Carl this time.
“He was getting very adept at this,” Harry reasoned. The Kids knew the way from secretly studying Base schematics. At the very center of the Base was a stable wormhole, the Base’s most guarded Physics experiment, where a whole army of thugs were stationed. These were the worst of the worst.
The only way one ever got into this group of thugs who guarded the wormhole was if they had been willing to frag their commanding officer in the regular military. This was the way to test their loyalty; if they were willing to kill their commanding officers to join the breakaway civilization’s secret military. This was the lowest circle of Dante’s Inferno, those willing to betray their lawful masters! And guns were pointed at all of them. All of them were chipped for mind control purposes, something they had not bargained. But the Base knew that if they would betray their commanders who had sacrificed their own lives for men in battle then they would betray Base command also. At once, like robots, they aimed their guns at the insurgency. The Kids recognized them as feared disciplinarians. They knew not to trifle with them.
The guns blasted a coolant that froze anything it contacted. And, anyone frozen would be in suspended animation, feeling every bit of the frozen horror as they were conscious. Their lives would be extended that way in continuous torture. It was a boot stamping on the human face, forever. This was the lowest circle. The Kids were threatened with this if they ever misbehaved and now it was staring at them.
Harry and Carl stepped forward with stern resolve. Both of them closed their eyes and when the guns blasted the coolant was deflected in the direction of a glass casing protecting some kind of top secret equipment and it froze the equipment, shattering some secret experiment forever. But the guards themselves had some kind of psychic protection that seemed to match those of Harry, Carl and the Kids. They aimed their guns again and the Insurgents all looked in horror. Being frozen and conscious was not how they anticipated ending their escape.
They knew all along that if they were to escape it would be through the wormhole. Harry had an idea.
“I am going to focus on the wormhole, everyone. Strengthen me!” Harry focused on the wormhole. He focused hard as the guards began to vibrate as though the entire phalanx was one sheet of glass. A Wave of sorts was passing through them in order to get to the wormhole. Harry began to laugh as he realized that he, Carl and the Kids were a merry group of Virtuous Heathen who were actually going to get to climb to Purgatory and to Heaven after all. But, the first level of Purgatory was Congress. Anyone who knew anything about the American political system knew this. The wormhole began to expand as the guards expressed what seemed to their robotic expressionless world like horror. The wormhole then sucked them in. They immediately appeared right inside of the halls of Congress during a televised Congressional investigation on hidden conspiracies, one of many that had cropped up in the new atmosphere of Glasnost that was sweeping America under the new Administration of President Ocasio-Cortez. The topic of discussion was allegations of Underground Bases and experiments on secret technology. One guest of the committee was just discussing wormhole experiments when suddenly a group of chipped guards appeared in the middle of the room.
A shocked room ducked but everyone realized that the guards were immobile. The wormhole had closed, not allowing the remote neural nets controllers to control them anymore. A shocked General realized that a missing criminal who had murdered his commanding officer was standing right in front of him instead of rotting in Leavenworth. The wormhole was closing, but not before two old geezers and a group of kids leapt right into the halls of Congress. Harry smiled as he realized that his plan to control the wormhole worked.
“People of Congress,” Harry began beaming, “boy have I got a story for you!”
That day was the beginning of a whole new history. Glasnost had finally reached America. It was not the revolution Harry had hoped for. But it was a start. Yes, there was finally a General Strike that forced Big Business to compromise. There were many little strikes too. The Base Commander was tried under Nuremberg precedents in a trial that shocked the world. Lesser offenders appeared before Truth and Reconciliation committees modeled on South Africa’s post-Apartheid experiment. As the military-industrial complex fell, similar movements broke out in Russia, the Middle East, China, Africa, and Latin America. Even North Korea fell to democracy. Islamic extremists, sensing weakness, declared a war. But no one came. As the old expression went, a war was declared and no one came!
A new world had come, one that the Hidden Superior himself could not control even with his more benevolent worldview. The Hidden Superior was part of the old control network of secret societies. Theirs was a complicated history. But, alas, the time and place of even benevolent conspiratorial control was in the Past. And, increasingly with newer and newer timelines, the Past was something that never was. Physics was changing. Suddenly vegetarian wolves emerged that had “always” been in the timeline. Vegetarian lions were next. Soon enough humans began to not need clothes to walk around in a pristine wild planet, one that looked up at a vast cosmos in wonder.
And Harry kept the memory of older timelines that ebbed away, with the wisdom of a guide for the worlds ahead.
Well, Carl never did meet his aliens. Some day he would. But, he met something and someone more important. At long last Carl met himself. And the Universe was never the same.
