SON OF THE SUN

by ORFEO ANGELUCCI

In the world's written works there seems to be no parallel to this
book. Even as man awakens to the grandeur of the endless Universe in
which he subjectively exists, he is being slowly led by an iota of
knowledge which he has recently acquired. This knowledge rests upon
the shoulders of a few giants among thinkers and enlightened ones,
exciting enough to inspire Man to more knowledge, and wisdom.

In this book there is no self-sure answer to any question; yet no
question is left without reply. Religion, metaphysics and philosophy
are deftly touched upon. Material wonders are treated with an
expediency heretofore unknown. All merge to shine in auroral promise
on the human horizon.

The physician from Seattle, the man who related this story to the
author, felt himself expert in one field only - medicine. Finding
he had only nine months of earthly life left to him, though he was
only 38 years of age, he became desperate. He knew now both the
plight of the patient and the futility of the doctor when the
inevitable must be faced.

But the barrier of the impasse melted into nothingness, for his
inherent love of learning, and his good nature brought him into the
illumination, dissolving his morbidity and hopelessness.

The dynamics of the Universe are presented simply in Son of the Sun.
The Cosmos lives in a music of the spheres as a concept of Infinity
and Eternity is laid bare. In this very real Space Age there is a
moral and spiritual undercurrent which soon may swell into world
tides, for Man not only seeks all the truth, but knows it when
presented.

The writer of tomorrow must meet the unfolding of the cosmos, and
this book by Orfeo Angelucci may well provide the bearings for a good
course ahead.

Other Books By ORFEO ANGELUCCI

  Nature of Infinite Entities 

  Secret of the Saucers

DEVORSS & Co., Publishers

==========================



SON OF THE SUN

by Orfeo Angelucci

DEVORSS & Co.

c. 1959

by Orfeo Angelucci

Printed in the United States of America by -  DeVorss & Co.



DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to those people with that soul which ever
projects a little further than the senses, which perceive only things
of the present that come, pass on, and are no more the things we
knew. To the marvelous souls who, in the early spring, work to sow
what others reap in the late fall.

Such a one was Adam, whose story it is my privilege to pass along in
these pages.

Therefore, in dedicating this book to these souls; it follows that it
is dedicated also to Adam, the physician from Seattle. Very much so.


ACKNOWLEDGMENT

Special acknowledgment is gratefully made to the following:

First of all, to my beloved wife, Mabel, whose unfailing devotion has
been the cornerstone of my life at all times, whether the path was
sunny or shaded. This includes, of course, my sons, Ramon and
Richard, and my daughter-in-law, Pat.

To the Truehart family: Marcile, Bill and Gloria; Marcile, for her
untiring assistance and inspiring interest which helped so much to
produce this book; Bill and Gloria, for their gentle patience during
the long months this work was in preparation.

To Earl Brewer, whose friendship and hospitality set the essential
spawning ground for the events herein contained and recorded.

To Lillian Meyer, whose sympathetic insight constituted a vital
contribution to the work.

To all my wonderful friends and relatives who have graciously kept me
in the warmth of their esteem no matter where I have ventured, or
what I have seen.

To the publishers, DeVorss & Co, for their "full speed ahead"
approach to the new and the constructive things.

To Ray Palmer, whose latitude and respect for the thoughts and
opinions of others have helped and inspired me for years.

To Henry George, economist-philosopher, who to me is Thomas Payne,
Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson and Arthur Brisbane all embodied
in one personality; Henry George, who cared so much for all humanity.

And to the living, boundless Universe.

Orfeo Angelucci



CONTENTS

ADAM IN THE DESERT

THE DANCE IN A GLASS

THE SPEED OF LIGHT

VEGA ALERTS ADAM

VENUS, OUR SISTER

LANDING ABOARD ANDROMEDA

ADAM MEETS ANTARES

NATURE OF INFINITE ENTITIES

ADAM'S MOMENT OF ILLUMINATION

A NIGHT OUT ON VENUS

ADAM LEARNS ETERNITY

THE EASE OF FORGETTING

INTO THE SUN AND OUT AGAIN

ADAM SAYS GOODBYE





Chapter 1

ADAM IN THE DESERT

"In the final analysis, Orfeo, there is only one virtue - the love
of pure learning."

For a moment he paused; and he saw that moment, and felt that moment
in its depth of meaning. He was looking at me, or rather far beyond
me, as he did not look again during the next three days of our close
association. He was seeing things in this moment that could not be
spoken. As he came slowly back to the reality of our being here
together in this little restaurant, he added, with an air of
secondary importance:

"And all else is but procrastination and dissipation in the eyes of
the One who awaits our evolutionary awakenings."

Adam and I had talked of many things, and his words had been as
silvery threads spun on a scroll of eternal knowledge. But the words
just spoken stood out like golden threads among the silver. Even as
he spoke them to me he seemed to be living in another world, and
looking alone into the universe in one cosmic swoop. I felt sure he
was looking into the very core of effects, causes, aberrations,
corrections; into the Cause behind all causes.

In those simple words, and his searching, burning, brown eyes, there
was such an all-engulfing vision that I was swept into its depth with
him in harmonious understanding. I saw what he saw, felt what he
felt; a feeling of oneness with all that is. It was the flash of many
ages in one swelling burst; yet it was the eternity of the split
second. I was so devoid of self-awareness that I felt more like
formless thought than a being of flesh and blood.

Material things flashed before me in a comprehension that was almost
tangible, and the pulsating quiet of the universe became a rhythmic
thunder. It was as if all things had been frozen and were now
suddenly melting into a vaporous essence that further confirmed his
words.

I had to agree with Adam; that in the final analysis there is only
one virtue - the love of pure learning.

Paradoxically, I could see the reverse of that axiom. The ultimate
sin must be sustained ignorance.

Adam did not speak as a man having a complex of any kind. He felt
neither inferior nor superior. Yet he had just come through an
experience of learning and romance that was not one which mortals of
earth usually know. It was one to be compared with cosmic grandeurs,
like huge meteors, comets, and supernovae. It included a love that
must soon be relegated to a nebulous memory, for its exquisiteness
was too ethereal for undeveloped earth people. Of course, Adam had
been guided through the experience by experts who would not put any
person through it at random just for fun.

According to Adam, these people were not of earth but were visitors
from another world. I believed him from the very start, believing him
even more after he had told me all there was to tell. In the course
of three evenings he narrated his fantastic story to me.

Sitting in the little desert restaurant in the heart of Twentynine
Palms, Adam told me he had read my book, "The Secret of the Saucers,"
but that he had never expected to meet me in person. And as for me, I
certainly had never expected to meet one like Adam, for he had
recently gone into the sun and out again. He did not flinch when he
told me this. Indeed, there was a mystical look on his face which as
much as said that his trip into the sun was not quite his top
experience-that other events more extraordinary had recently
occurred. And I believe each one on earth is destined, in time, to
have similar experiences.

Adam's whimsical grin told me of his faith in confiding his story to
me. As he related detail by detail, I listened as a jurist might
listen to a defendant or a plaintiff, returning him smile for smile
and comprehension for comprehension. What man or woman wouldn't have
been totally intrigued by his words, enthralled by the truths of
their essence, and completely swept away by his sincerity? If a man
hands you the secret of the universe so you see the universe respond
as if in confirmation, would you ask who his parents were? If the
words he speaks are living symbols of light, would you stop to
inspect his credentials and thereby miss the essence of the words?

This I know. If one thousand people on earth were to understand what
Adam told me in toto we may rest assured that earth's redemption is
more than hypothetical; it is certain.

How did I meet Adam? Why was it essential that I meet him? Let us
begin at the beginning.

Adam had gone into the sun and had emerged out of it without a burn.
Other than normal perspiring, he had suffered nothing physically. I
was trying to absorb this whole idea while gazing unrelentingly at
his handsome, inscrutable, honest face. At the same time, the idea
that he had only seven months to live, as he had told me, needed to
be digested. The weight of these two thoughts made me oblivious to
everything else around me.

I had come to this desert valley for one reason: to work here, and in
time bring my family to reside here permanently. In fact, the day I
arrived I found work with a furniture store laying floor tiles. It
was November 1, 1954.

It was a wonderful feeling to be in my own line of work and situated
in a community that I more than just "liked." Behind me were my
recent years of lecturing on "flying saucers" and their impact on our
future space age.

These lectures and magazine articles had brought me in contact with
many people by mail and in person. Among them was a young man named
Earl Brewer, of Seattle, Washington, who had met me through driving a
friend to my home. Somewhat frail-looking, of Scandinavian descent,
he possessed gleaming, childlike, blue eyes which were completely
disarming. Although he had only a casual interest in my space visitor
contacts, we liked each other from the start and became fast friends.

In September of 1954, Brewer again came to my home in Los Angeles.
This time he came south to stay, as doctors advised a dry climate for
his health, and he inquired if I knew of a place meeting this
requirement where it would be possible to make a living. I suggested
Twentynine Palms, California, and he decided to locate there.

Thus, when I looked him up several weeks later, informing him I
intended to be here for quite some time (having already found work),
he was beside himself with joy. He insisted that I share his small
place, which though hardly larger than a cabin, had a tiny living
room, kitchen and bathroom. It would be good to have a level-headed
companion like Earl, so without ado I brought in my scant luggage and
this spot became my week-day home for about six months. On week ends
I commuted to Los Angeles to be with my family.

The cottage was situated on the road to the Twentynine Palms Marine
Base north of the small village, at a point where the road makes an
eastward bend and merges with an un-paved road. The intersection is
known locally as "Indian Corners." Here only the passing traffic and
the occasional barking of a dog break the desert quiet.

The town of Twentynine Palms itself lies near the gateway to the
Joshua Tree National Monument. It nestles in the Great Morongo Basin
in which are cradled also the communities of Joshua Tree, Yucca
Valley, Pioneertown, and Morongo Valley. Earl began to feel better
here in the High Desert and he agreed with many others that it is one
of the most healthful spots in the country.

Earl was working also, and was fast becoming a desert native. In the
middle of December, 1954, however, he decided to take a plane to his
native Seattle for a stay of three days.

Those three days were to catapult me into new horizons. They were not
only to renew my lagging spirits, with respect to the subject of
outer space, but to unfold things which were heretofore completely
beyond my credulence. In retrospect, I feel certain that my stay of
six months in Twentynine Palms and Earl's unexpected three-day visit
to Seattle coincided with a prearranged plan of visitors from space.

When I came home that Friday evening after Earl had embarked for
Seattle, I washed, changed clothes, and decided to have dinner in
town. For some reason I did not feel lonely. Driving the short mile
and a half to town seemed more pleasant, somehow, than usual. In fact
I began to feel more exuberant by the moment as I drove. I decided
the cafe I would select would be the one where Earl and I had dined
several times.

"Tiny," the proprietor, was fond of his monicker, which mocked his
weight of over 300 pounds. "Tiny" did things in a big way. He wanted
lots of room, and lots to eat, so he felt everyone else wanted the
same, and gave his patrons generous portions. His waitresses did not
merely bring glasses of water to the tables, but glasses plus a large
pitcher for refilling. It was not a big cafe, but "Tiny" made you
feel big in it. He and his place embraced one in an atmosphere of
"welcome, friend." The front window filled nearly all of one wall. As
you entered, the counter was to the right and a few tables spread
here and there to the left.

As I neared town, I felt strongly that "Tiny's" was just the place
for me. Though it was the middle of December, the evening was mild. I
parked the car, and as I walked toward "Tiny's" I felt a strangeness
in the air. There is a cosmic spell over the desert most of the time,
but tonight the mystery was less distant and intangible; it was close
and pulsating. The sand, the streets, the very buildings seemed to
have a softness about them, and the stars were gently glowing lights
in the warm, velvet heavens. It was a clue, I suppose, to what the
evening held in store for me, but I didn't recognize it. Just beyond
that door I would be swept from normal living into a state not of
earth, yet not quite of another world. An exciting, new, nameless
sensation.

I opened the door, and my eyes fell at once upon a young man sitting
alone at a center table. He looked at me, smiling as though he was
waiting to see me. We had never met before, for having once seen this
face, it was not likely to be forgotten. So strikingly handsome was
he that if beheld but once for only a few seconds in a crowd, an
indelible impression of his countenance would be imbedded in the
memory.

Instead of walking to the counter, where I normally would eat when
alone, I walked to his table, drawn there as if under a spell. His
smile did not waver. Our eyes met in an intense gaze as we made a
brief appraisal of one another, and an inner communication passed
between us, as though we had always known one another. I approached
his table and said casually:

"Hello - friend."

"Hello, Orfeo," he replied immediately, his smile never wavering.

"You know me?" I asked, as I pulled back a chair and sat down.

"I know you only as well as you now know me. Please, just call me
Adam, and do not ask my real name. In seven months I shall be gone,
and you have enough wounds of the spirit without adding my memory to
your future."

The way he said it left no doubt that he meant seven months left to
live, and I felt a loneliness and sadness at his words. Adam had
expected me to feel this way upon first hearing about his short
future, but he donned an air of indifference to my reaction, and his
spirited demeanor had a steadying effect. He made me feel that we had
more important things to talk about than his physical welfare and his
length of life.

The waitress came to the table and asked if she could help us. Adam
smiled at her and replied, "One of your sizzling steak dinners,
please."

He had ordered it for me, and I nodded in approval. Then I noticed
the pitcher of water on the table. There were two glasses besides
Adam's own glass.

"Adam," I asked. "Are you expecting someone else? Am I intruding on
you and whoever you may be waiting for?"

"No, Orfeo. Why do you ask?" He said it with such assurance that I
felt I was just seeing things.

"But there is a third glass on the table, Adam. Are you expecting
someone besides me?"

He looked at the glass. Then he looked at me with puzzlement.

"No," he said thoughtfully. "I must have said two glasses to the
waitress, and she may have understood it to mean two more besides my
own."

But Adam doubted his own explanation of it, for he looked several
times at the third glass, and I could detect by his expression that
he was asking himself if a third guest were to appear, after all. As
for myself, I decided to drop the thought for a while. Adam himself
was enough of an enigma to me until the third person should arrive,
if at all. Then he broke the silence.

"Would you like a bottle of beer, Orfeo?"

I looked at the pitcher of water. His own glass contained a sparkling
liquid the color of pale ginger ale, fizzing and bubbling
continuously, though he had already drunk half of it. The lively
bubbles arose from the remains of a tiny tablet at the bottom of the
glass. My answer to his offer was a hurried, "No, Adam. No beer for
me. I will take the water," and I poured some from the pitcher into
my glass.

Adam smiled even more broadly as his hand went into his coat pocket.
He brought out an oyster-white pellet and held it before me as he
remarked:

"O.K., Orfeo. Then how about a very rare champagne?"

Returning his reassuring smile with my own, I took the pellet and
dropped it into my glass. Immediately the water bubbled, turning
slowly into the clear, pale amber contained in his own glass. I
lifted the glass a few inches from the table, looking into it with a
feeling that this might be the drink I dared not hope for. The
exhilarating aroma rising from it could not be mistaken. I had tasted
and smelled the same liquid before. I put my lips to the glass and
merely let the liquid touch my lips. That was enough.

"Adam - Adam, I can't believe it! Please don't fool me." My sudden
excitement had taken me from earth number one to earth number two. I
could feel my whole being swirling into another domain from the mere
recognition of the nectar. I could not control my spiral ascent, nor
did I want to. Adam's eyes had continued smiling into my own.

"Yes, Orfeo," he assured me. "It is nectar. A mild, diluted form, but
the real nectar, just the same."

I wanted to take a few sips, but just then the waitress brought
servings of soup and salad to me. Up to this moment, in spite of my
sudden exhilaration, everything had appeared normal to me. But I knew
that very soon everything would appear differently. So I tried to
evaluate the objects about me as they truly were so I would not lose
my sense of orientation when the environment took on an enhanced
aspect.

Ah, yes. No wonder Adam had expected me. No wonder he seemed so alive
and alert. To him all the surroundings were of a different pace and
appearance. Before I opened the door, he had already come under the
pleasant spell of the nectar.

What was more important, he was in the protective care of others
somewhere, perhaps nearby, perhaps far off - unseen, and not of
earth, nor of our solar system. Soon I, too, would be engulfed with
him.

I thrilled from head to foot as I took the glass, lifted it to my
lips, and swallowed twice from it. At that instant I entered, with
Adam, into a more exalted state and everything around me took on a
different semblance. No longer was I in Tiny's cafe in Twentynine
Palms. It had been transformed into a cozy retreat on some radiant
star system. Though everything remained in its same position, added
beauty and meaning were given to the things and people present there.

Among the patrons dining that evening were two marines from the
nearby base. They were sitting at the front end of the counter.
Sometimes they glanced our way as they talked and drank beer
following their meal. There was a trace of disdain in their
expressions, especially in the younger one's. This was not directed
at us, but rather was part of their general outlook, colored by a
grueling military life. Yet now, since taking a little of the nectar,
I saw them as two vibrant humans in the pageantry of life - not only
my life, but all life. If they could see themselves in the same broad
scope, their lives would not seem to them so desolate or remote.

The waitress brought the rest of my order. Adam nodded a pleasant
thank you to her, then looked at the bubbling nectar in my glass. He
glanced at the empty glass, that third glass at the place on the
table where no other person was expected to sit. His puzzled look
betrayed the fact that he was asking himself constantly why it was
there. It did not disturb him, but merely seemed to puzzle him.

I decided to wait awhile before drinking any more of the beverage. I
wanted to take in more of the situation before going under its
complete influence. It was then that Adam spoke abruptly.

"In the final analysis, Orfeo, there is only one virtue; the love of
pure learning."

In the short pause that followed his words, the whole life cycle of a
galaxy must have gone past Adam's vision. Then he added:

"And all else is procrastination and dissipation in the eyes of the
One who but awaits our evolutionary awakenings."

I was, in spirit, suspended in a tenuous world by now. When he
uttered these words I felt it was time to take some of the sparkling
drink. The additional nectar made no difference in my feeling. The
first two sips had done all that a river of the nectar could do.

Adam had spoken these words as if they were the end of a long
conversation between us instead of the beginning. I turned toward the
two young marines and noticed that one of them was now smiling. They
must have heard Adam. We continued to eat, slowly. Food had never
before tasted better to me, for the beverage made me feel splendid.
Adam began to speak again, this time in subdued and well controlled
tones.

"I am a medical doctor, Orfeo, from Seattle. On my next birthday I
shall be 38. A little more than a month ago it became necessary to
close out my practice."

He paused as we took a few more bites of our food. In the same
subdued voice he then resumed, maintaining a calm, pleasant poise.

"To me, the profession is steeped in the Hippocratic Oath, as it is
with so many others. It was my hope to some day devote my time and
means to biological research. I gave much thought and some study to
the fundamentals of biochemistry, and even to physics.

"Then this condition came upon me. For a time I was seized by the
same fear, despair and sense of futility that, as a doctor, I had
seen fall upon so many others. There were the same futile hopes
patients had displayed so many times that perhaps some error might be
present in the diagnosis. I could not believe it was now my turn, and
I looked desperately here and there for some new discovery by
science, an announcement that such conditions were now curable. After
all, such news could come any day. I called the Mayo Clinic, the
Johns-Hopkins Institute, Cornell and others. There was not even a
flicker of hope in cases such as mine.

"Under the strain and despair, my capacity to serve as a good doctor
ended. Rapidly I became resigned to the inevitable. Somehow, after
one becomes resigned there is an inner rebirth, when whole lifetimes
seem to be lived within short days."

I took in every word in silence as we ate. It was hard for me to
believe that this gentle, light-brown-haired man who looked so
healthy and handsome was not long for this world. There was a quality
that gave to his eyes the appearance of changing from light brown to
light blue, and back to brown. His mind, alert and quick, was
resilient and tolerant about all things. He seemed to be truly happy,
not for the present time, but for a glory he could foresee for
mankind. I had the feeling I was in the presence of the most
civilized person on earth.

I did not say a word, confining myself to listening. Under expanded
awareness, produced by the nectar, I needed neither to confirm his
words nor submit any opinion, for our minds were in rapport. He
continued.

"As soon as I became resigned to the inescapable, there was a sudden
surge within me; a light, almost visible, flashed all about me, and I
was no longer afraid. There was ethereal music at the same time, and
I have not yet ceased to hear it."

I drank a little of the nectar. Even this had no more effect to add
to that of the first two swallows. My eyes met Adam's, and there was
an at-one-ment of mutual understanding, such that a few well-chosen
words could tell the history of an entire solar system. I nodded for
him to go on - I was eager to hear more of his story.

"Well, Orfeo," he resumed, "I had only nine months to live, and as I
closed my practice, I flailed out, trying to grasp as much life as
could be packed into each day. It was a mixture of desperation and
rapture within me - fear and courage and ecstasy, all alloyed into
one tangled cocktail of livingness."

He paused a moment, trying to recapture the acute power of that
tornado of consciousness. But for the nectar we drank, neither he nor
I could have remained so placid at the assault of his words. His
aspect rendered him overwhelmingly handsome as he continued to tell
his story.

"That is how I came to be interested in even such things as flying
saucers, and all pertaining to the universe. Before, I had considered
such things as silly and of interest only to simple and peculiar
mentalities.

"I went to hear a talk on flying saucers, sponsored by a small group
in Seattle. At this gathering I obtained your book, The Secret Of The
Saucers, among other books and articles.

"In your book I found a kindred spirit. I felt it was trying to say
something to humanity, pointing clearly to something which goes
mainly unseen. Then, also having read your essay, I found the two
wrapping up the whole concept from alpha to omega.

"Well, in a short time I had closed out my practice. I did not even
know where I was going, nor to whom I could turn for that final
assurance and courage. Suddenly it dawned on me that through all the
years of my practice I had missed out on warm friendships such as
most people enjoy, and there was not even a woman I could call my
beloved. Within me there was one inclination, crying out silently,
but ever so strongly. It was the call of the desert.

"In your own writings you had mentioned Twentynine Palms, and this
place rang within my consciousness with a tone of 'must'. So, here I
am, Orfeo; or rather, here we are." It was hard to discern any worry
in Adam's face as he smilingly ended this part of his story.

What was it that was seething up inside me? Why did I like this man
more than any other man I had ever met, and yet, felt on guard
against him more than against any other man? Was it the utter
magnetism of his way and attractiveness? Did my own experience and
learning and philosophy not hold up under his challenging presence?
Could I not admit within me that he was utterly handsome, and that in
his company I stood out as almost nothing? Yet I liked him, and I
liked him to such a degree I would give my life in his behalf. He was
noble, he was gentle, he was as sincere as a child, and he had an
elastic understanding of nearly everything. What was more, I felt
within me he had a story to tell that was far beyond even him.

Our glasses were empty, so I poured water into both of them. As if I
expected it of him, he responded by taking a pellet from his pocket,
breaking it in half, and dropping a piece into each glass. Again he
looked at the third glass, trying hard to figure out why it was
there, but try as he would, it was just an extra glass. If he could
not figure it out, it would certainly be no use for me to try. Soon,
it proved to be the most important glass on the table. He took a
drink from his fresh glassful, and I followed suit. Then he resumed
his story.

"While dining here in Twentynine Palms recently, I got into a
conversation with two men who were going back to Los Angeles that
same day. I learned that one of them owned a homestead cabin not far
from here. Soon I had paid him fifty dollars for the rent of it for
two weeks. He gave me one of three keys to it, and told me it was
mine for even three weeks if I wanted it.

"Suddenly I felt free. I mean really free. A rustic home in the
desert was mine. I had means and a medical man's knowledge of man and
woman, yet I had nothing in the past. Life is short at best, and my
knowledge was only theory and protected license. People in general
seemed to be living in a knowledge beyond my knowledge and they took
nothing seriously, not even life, not even death. At least, that is
the way I felt for a couple of days, and then my entire attitude on
everything changed. I started from the very beginning. Now I find
myself asking me what, when, how and why? That last is the one beyond
approach - Why?

"I entered the labyrinth of questions, and I have found that only the
doomed have an answer, only the doomed have been able to fathom the
depths. I want so much to leave the wisdom of the dying, which has
before this evaporated into the ether. Instead, I find and truly
believe I have learned the glorious promise for the living. After
all, what can I depend upon to think of or to remember me except the
living? Whatever we leave behind us is exactly what we inherit, no
matter where or when. So, permit me to tell you everything, and then
may you carry on the blazing torch.

At this point he stopped and looked at me inquisitively. Then, almost
cautiously, he asked me, "Say - I wonder if that is not, after all,
the wisdom of the dying?"

He had caught the meaning in my own smile, though I had not said a
word. Quickly and anxiously he shot another question at me.

"How is it you seem to be so easy to tell all this to? Why is it you
seem to understand all that I say?"

I paused a moment before answering. This man puzzled me now. My
instinct had told me from the moment of our meeting that he knew the
answers to all of life, had the wisdom of the cosmos, yet here he
was, asking me to tell him something as if he did not already have
the answer.

It was not until later I realized Adam had absorbed wisdom and
understanding during his experiences, but had not as yet become
conscious of his great knowledge. It was to return to his memory
gradually, while he told me his story and we discussed the truths.

"Because, Adam," I finally answered him, "I once felt doomed for long
months. It eventually dawned on me that we are all doomed in this
short and single existence. Don't you think that young marine who
finally smiled, and is trying to overhear what we say, feels the same
way? Most of us intuitively sense that same logic, regardless of how
joyful or how tragic a situation may be. We always know that 'this,
too, shall pass'. Only life and eternity do not pass away. A person
is either intelligently aware of some infinite purpose, or a person
is a mere animated volume of nothing. We are so concerned about
eternity, which must be spent somewhere, either on earth or
elsewhere. And does not eternity concern the final truth of all
things, material or spiritual?"

Adam leaned forward toward me, his brow wrinkling. Something I had
said had an impact upon him.

"What," he asked, "do you mean, that life does not pass away?"

I replied with an ease which surprised both him and me.

"Well, I mean that life never passes away. Because of the very
prevalence of life you and I are here. It passes from individual
bodies, true enough, and it may even vanish from an entire solar
system. But there will still be life throughout the universe.

"Oblivion has only one condition, Adam. It is the same state that
prevails with absolute zero, and in probing oblivion we find that it
does not exist, just as absolute zero does not exist. By the same
line of reasoning we find that life also has only one condition, and
that is consciousness. In the physical world we find nothing but that
which we call matter and motion. Nothing is at absolute rest.

"Absolute zero, Adam, does not exist. Oblivion can neither be felt
nor described, and certainly not imagined. Therefore oblivion does
not exist, any more than does absolute zero. But consciousness is
felt by all creatures in the same frame of description. All life
could be whittled down to one entity, or distributed to an infinite
number, but there would be no addition or subtraction of
consciousness."

Adam smiled. His lips tightened a little as he rolled his eyes
upward, straining hard to get the picture clear in his mind.

Before he should lose whatever grasp he had of what I had just said,
I offered another approach.

"Let's start from the beginning, Adam, as all things start. Let us
suppose the Supreme Fatherhead willed to remove all creatures from
the Universe. All right, it is now devoid of mortal life.

"Now, then - we suppose the Fatherhead willed just one being to
appear, created in life. Every creature that ever existed before
would feel he was that life in its consciousness."

Adam's smile became radiant. But he had one more question.

"O.K., Orfeo. Now, suppose the Supreme Fatherhead created another
being? There would now be two. The one cannot feel the life of the
other. They would be experiencing different feelings in the same
frame of mind. How do you reconcile that with your concept?"

Of course, he already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it in
words. Truth and fact appear to all or us in the same clear
perspective. By the gleam in his eyes I could feel that he and I were
again "at one". I replied at once.

"It would make no difference, Adam. There would be the consciousness
that you and I are alive. And it would be as though all the universe
were alive. Even now you and I think alike, and feel alike. The
nectar caused our faculties to be brought to a certain level, so we
feel exactly alike and think exactly alike. You could suddenly feel
something that had not touched me, and I would feel exactly the same
way as you if the something touched me also.

"I may touch a flame and feel the burning, while you feel nothing.
But if the flame touched you in the same place you would feel what I
feel. If I stub my toe my nose feels nothing of it. Yet both are part
of the same life of me. A drop of ocean water is the very
consciousness of the entire seven seas, though they be separated.

"In the deepest coma, in the deepest sleep of anaesthesia, there is
yet some consciousness, and that is the reason we feel unconscious.
But when we really pass away, and true oblivion would seem to engulf
us, there is a sudden transpiration, and in an instant we are alive
again, somewhere, in a new life just emerging. Oblivion is just
impossible, Adam."

Adam forgot to keep his voice low. He burst out joyously.

"Now I am sure I am not afraid to die! There is eternity. None of us,
not even the amoeba, truly dies. Every living thing is just a
continuation of some unit of life, living all over again. The number
of souls that can exist is infinite, and even varies. And therein is
the beauty of fact. It makes the requirement of the propagation of an
individual spirit unnecessary, and even unfounded. More than that,
Orfeo; I believe no one truly accepts that a formless consciousness
propagates our existence. Yet, no one can deny his present state of
being. We occurred once, so why can't we occur again? It is that
simple," he concluded.

Remembering that we had not finished eating, we resumed our meal.
Receiving another enlightening flash, Adam added, "And we inherit the
very same world we leave. Whatever it is when we leave it, that is
what we are born into again. It can be a stage set with the means for
working out our atonement if we are aware, or it can remain a
perplexing theater of some bizarre existence."

I added only two words. "Precisely, Adam."

The effect of the nectar did not wane, and we were both in a
delightful mood. We looked again at the empty third glass. At least
it had been empty. Now it was nearly half filled, and with the same
amber bubbling liquid we were drinking! Adam and I exchanged looks,
each thinking the other had poured something from his own glass. This
idea we dispelled at once, for within my memory I recalled a similar
phenomenon in the past, and something within Adam made him see the
light also.

"Do you think what I think?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied, "I believe I do."

"Then let me be the one to say it, Orfeo. Your book already states
that you know of such things. I have a story to tell you, and if I
can explain this phenomenon you will find it easier to accept what I
relate."

"Yes," I agreed. "Tell me how you think the nectar got into that
glass."

With childlike glee, yet with deliberation for the sake of accuracy,
he lowered his voice again and carefully gave me his explanation of
what had occurred.

"We are directly observed by the Space Visitors. From their ship,
wherever it is, they were able to confuse my words, so that without
knowing it, I asked the waitress to bring three glasses instead of
two. Yet I remember only that I asked for two."

I nodded in comprehension. "Go ahead; I follow you."

"They directed water vapor, unseen by anyone here, into the glass,
and condensed it back to water. At the same time they directed an
invisible, fine stream of the nectar powder to mix with the water.
They cannot be too far away."

"Well spoken, Adam," I interjected, "but wait. It does not matter
where they are. The powder may not have come from their own supply.
Count the pellets in your pocket."

"Good," said Adam. "I should have four pellets, without doubt."

His hand went into his coat pocket and came out with only three
pellets. Try as he would to find the fourth, he could not. We said no
more. We knew that the Space Visitors, by remote control, had
sublimated one of his pellets into vapor and directed it into the
glass.

Adam looked appraisingly at the pitcher of water. He put his finger
on a spot on the outside and turned it around for me to see.

"The water was up to this dark spot, exactly. There is just about
half a glass now missing." He paused pensively a moment, and then
spoke a little somberly.

"Yes, Orfeo, I have a story to tell you. I am certainly glad you have
seen these things happen here. Now you should have no trouble
believing my story."

"Adam," I assured him, "you do not need to convince me. One thing
alone was enough. When I saw the pellets that produced the nectar,
what other evidence did I need? No one of earth could have given them
to you."

The waitress came and asked us for our choice of dessert, and only
then did we notice that we had finished our meal. We ate our dessert
slowly and silently, for we were both in a galaxy of mental
reflections. Still under the prolonged influence of the nectar, we
were transcended from reality. Even the usual softness of Twentynine
Palms would sound loud to our heightened senses, were we to be
conscious of the reality around us.


Chapter 2

A DANCE IN A GLASS

As we lingered over our dessert, Adam persisted in staring at the
glass which seemed to have filled itself with the strange liquid. I
could feel that his almost mesmerized interest in the glass was
fraught with expectancy.

Were my ears deceiving me? Was that music I heard coming from the
direction of the glass? It must be music. No sound could be so
enchanting unless played by some skilled musician. To describe it in
words would be disfiguring its mystic flow. The ear had to be highly
receptive to hear it, yet every haunting note came through clearly.
Indeed, the fluid in the glass was being used as a radio, converting
waves beamed at it back into the original broadcast. It was so faint
that only ears made sensitive by a substance such as Adam and I had
drunk could hear it.

Adam's eyes became moist. He absently ate his dessert, his eyes
remaining steadfastly fixed upon the glass. The world around him must
have ceased to exist for him. I saw his expression change from its
normally deep one to another that became fathomless, taking on the
aesthetic demeanor of a mystic god. The music became even more
beautiful, until it was impossible to discern whether the mood
preceded the music or the music preceded the mood, so perfect was the
timing. I was held spellbound, looking upon this face which had
become more intensely handsome in Adam's preoccupation. I was, in
fact, more intrigued by his countenance for a time than by the glass
with its ethereal music.

Then slowly I too looked again at the glass and was held in
amazement. A miniature young woman was dancing in the nectar! Her
golden-blond beauty was as arresting as the miracle of her projection
in the glass. Not only was some intelligence using the liquid as a
radio, but it was also being used as a television unit. Her arms
moved in rhythmic motion with the graceful thrusts of her dancing
body. Her feet were so light and responsive that the music itself
seemed to emanate from them. The expression on her face was that of a
maid who had found bliss and eternity among the angels. I had not
seen her eyes, for they had not once shifted their gaze from Adam's
eyes, all the while she danced. Why, I thought, would she not cast
just a passing glance my way?

I heard a sigh come from Adam, from deep within him. As I forced my
eyes from the glass to his face, I could see tears pouring down his
cheeks. Except for these, his face seemed frozen into a handsome
mask. He was not ashamed of his emotion. Indeed, he seemed oblivious
to everything around him as he surrendered to the fullness of a
bittersweet joy.

The girl danced on in the glass, the fervor of her movements mounting
in proportion to Adam's swelling emotions, apparently drawing out all
of his passions, all of his tenderness with her dancing. There must
have been an experience between Adam and this beauty which she wanted
him to remember, and she seemed to be accomplishing her purpose very
well, even as a miniature in a glass. His feeling was so apparent
even I, a bystander, could decipher it.

So perfect was the projected figure that it seemed to be a
flesh-and-blood girl submerged in the nectar. Her graceful rhythm was
matched by the soft folds of her white silken robe, which swirled and
swung about her as though it had an awareness and a life all its own.

Without a word spoken or sung, the theme of the dance was
self-revealing. In all its movements the very soul of universal
womankind was being expressed. In the flowing glides and abrupt leaps
all the caprices of woman spoke. The figure's hair danced about with
a delight all its own, as though full freedom was in each strand, yet
each was under perfect control of the sprightly head containing its
roots. All things of her, about her and around her reflected the
spirit of her dance. Even our table had taken on life from deep
inside, although it remained motionless. The livingness of everything
seemed to be torn asunder by the deep but quiet sobs coming
intermittently from Adam.

I was aware that he saw and felt more than I could see or feel, and I
did not look at him. The music, the dance and the sheer loveliness of
the girl held me captivated.

In the climaxing moment of her dance, one thing remained apparent:
The overall effect was rejuvenating and wholesome. I became one in
love with her, with everyone and everything, including motion itself.

While Adam was in the grip of anguished memory, I was experiencing an
opposite reaction. I heard the music I most longed to hear, I watched
a near-angel dancing to it, I saw a face and form which left nothing
to be desired. Seeing her, I saw heaven all around.

Two wet spots on the table were the visible evidence of Adam's
soul-purging. Unmindful of my presence, he wept on profusely, yet in
a strange rapture.

The music became a crescendo, apparently heedless of the fact that
others in the cafe might hear it. The girl's dancing accelerated to a
living tornado. Then came a crash of cymbals and drums, a steady roll
of musical thunder, and she whirled in my direction, looking for the
first time squarely into my eyes as she fell gracefully to her knees.

Hers was a stern, accusing look. I would have wilted under the impact
of it, except for her beauty. Anything would be a pleasure, coming
from her. She was the personification of the etheric hosts, and she
told me by her intense look and her graceful finale that she
condemned me, not only on her own behalf, but by the bidding of all
life in the cosmos. She was clearly conveying the message that I
would yet come down a few notches in my arrogant self-esteem. (I
mistakenly thought I had long ago shed false pride and arrogance, but
evidently the higher civilizations did not think so.) Because she was
so delicately beautiful, so gentle, so incapable of giving harm to
body or spirit, I accepted her stern, silent pronouncement at once.
Then she grew smaller and smaller, until she had disappeared
entirely. The bubbles rose steadily in the glass as if nothing had
happened. My eyes turned slowly to Adam's, even as his turned
searchingly toward mine. Softly, almost wanly, he asked,

"Did you see her?"

I nodded slowly, and I saw he understood that his own feelings were
not strange to me.

Soon the liquid in the glass lowered to the halfway point. It was
being drained away as mysteriously as it had been brought in. The two
young marines were looking toward our table very intently. We could
not know whether they had heard the music or had pieced together any
comprehensive story from what they must have overheard. We did not
care, because they had become to us just what they were - two
average, intelligent human beings. True enough, life was all one
thing, no matter what the individual experience might be at the time.

We remained silent for a while. In the silence I gathered some
insight into the person Adam, this Adam who sat before me. He had had
an experience of the heart which seasoned his person and his soul,
yet seemed to be gone from his hold forevermore. The greater part of
him - his life, his emotions, his motives - all these must have gone
with her passing out of his life, whoever she was. In such
experiences, the one that hurts the most is usually the most recent.
Yet, according to Adam's own story, this must have been his first
love, and certainly it would be his last. Again, I reflected, one who
has had a hundred love affairs gets no more impact from all of them
combined than one who experiences only one. More than that, the one
has more impact than the one hundred. Like life itself, love remains
one thing. Any coloring of it remains for the disposition of the
individuals. Any abuse of it comes from the inferior nature of the
individuals. Any miscomprehension of it is due to the ignorance of
the individuals.

Adam exuded in his every aspect the fact that he had once hit the
zenith in love. He made me feel as if I had not yet come upon its
first note. At the same time, it was clear that his interest in all
fundamental things was of parallel intensity. His preoccupation with
the memory of his recent love did not erase his interests in other
things. The scope of his love did not detract from the scope of his
capacity for all things. It seemed his horizon was equal in all
directions, with no dead ends. This, then, was the type of man with
whom I had the privilege of communication.

As these thoughts ran through my mind, Adam reached toward the third
glass, which was now less than half filled with the nectar, and
poured half the contents into my glass and half into his own. It was
then we heard a summoning whistle come from the direction where the
young marines were sitting at the counter. The younger one was
hailing us, and when we looked toward him he waved as his companion
and he arose to leave. The other one waved also, and we returned
their "goodnights." Suddenly, the four of us had become friends for
no apparent reason. They could have been our sons insofar as age was
concerned. Surely in the scope that Adam saw things, we were
brothers.

"You see, Orfeo?" he asked. "Why could not the whole world be at one
in friendship, in consideration, and in all things? People dream of
such a day; religions are built entirely on that objective. There is
a constant evolutionary trend towatd that one end. The final truth
always was - and shall be in the future - that all will be just One.
All matter, all spirit, all motion, will be found to be ONE thing.
The Great Will knows it, and patiently waits for us to come upon it
through our own efforts. Only when we have overcome all the obstacles
clouding our eyes and senses shall we see it, and in that moment we
shall know Eternity."

As he finished, we drank the remainder of our nectar.

The cafe was being readied to close for the night. Tiny came to our
table. "You're welcome to stay, gents. We are closing early tonight,
but you can watch the place for me," he smiled from his bulky, warm
self. We took the hint, bid him goodnight, and stepped outside.

There we lingered for a while. Adam still had his wallet in his hand.
Pulling out some bills, he said, "As long as you are with me, I'll
pay all the way. I have more money than I can spend in seven months.
Now, here's a hundred dollars for you. Take it and don't give me any
apologies. That's all you're going to get, anyhow. I could easily
give you thirty thousand and have a few thousand left over, but it is
going to charity and research, Orfeo. I'm sure that is where it
belongs, and you would do the same. I have the money and the
experience, yet I cannot write it down. You are not as well off as I
am, but when you are even worse off you will write about me."

It was hard to tell whether Adam coldly knew the future for me, or
whether he was hard pressed for time and was doing things at a fast
pace. He was sure of himself, and I had to admire his methods. But
his abundant means accentuated my scant ones and I found myself
imploring, "Adam, I don't want thirty thousand dollars. Just give me
enough to write the material and get it published on my own. I will
start Monday morning. I promise you."

"All right," he agreed, "you will get it. But only after I have told
you everything. Then you can remind me of my offer, and ten thousand
dollars will be yours."

I was ready now for anything. I felt rich, powerful, warm, and
secure. Adam, too, appeared especially exuberant.

"Well, shall we go to your place, Orfeo?" Adam asked.

"Yes," I answered. "We have electric lights, water, gas, two radios,
and books. Earl has gone to Seattle, but he would be more than happy
for us to use his little domicile."

As I finished speaking, a rap sounded from inside the glass door of
the cafe. It was Tiny waving a last goodnight to us. We bid him the
same, and we looked into the cafe. We saw something odd was
happening. All the tables had been cleared except ours, where the
third glass still stood in its place. Now. before our eyes, it grew
smaller and smaller, until it disappeared completely. Adam and I
faced each other without speaking, and nodded in comprehension.
Smiling, Adam spoke, half to me and half to himself.

"The waitress never brought that glass in the first place and no one
but we two could see it. We were conditioned by the nectar to see a
projected mirage. Come on, Orfeo, let's go. I'll meet you at your
place. I have a real story to tell you."

"Do you know where my place is?" I asked.

"Sure," he replied. "Indian Corners, about one and one-half miles out
Utah Trail in the direction of the Marine Base. It's that little
house off the road, on the left side."

Within five minutes, we both arrived at the house and parked our cars
side by side. I did not know then how far Adam was to project me into
the life of other worlds.

I unlocked the door of the house and turned on the light. When I
attempted to apologize for the smallness of the house, Adam said,
"Never mind that. Let's turn on some music and feel in contact with
the rest of the world." With that remark, he walked over and adjusted
the radio's dials until he had found something he liked.

It was 10 o'clock in the evening. I was ready now to hear his story,
but to give more hospitality to the atmosphere I put a pot of fresh
coffee on the stove to brew.

"Orfeo," Adam began, "you will write all this down some day. But
remember, you will not write it until you feel the time has come that
the world can see the verity of it all. Also, I would rather you
wrote it in the second person than quote me directly. However, I
won't hold you to that. Write it the best way you can, write it
without holding back anything. You know me only as Adam, and no other
name will ever matter. As I live again and again I will feel more
that this was part of me than if you mentioned my present identity,
for we remember nothing in our separate lifetimes except the
beginning of our creation. The rest will be remembered only on that
final day of perfection. You know, Orfeo, we all feel as if we were
Adam and Eve. What other names in history do any of us feel so close
to? You were right, life is but one consciousness. All that counts is
the beginning and the end, a man and a woman. In their perfect state
that is all the life there is in the infinite universe."

"O.K., Adam, I promise it will be as you say. That is, if I ever do
write it."

We sat down at a small table in a corner. Adam crossed his legs and
began to speak. He referred briefly to the two marines in the cafe.
In deep reflection, he said that the problem of the younger fellow,
whatever it might be, was to that one and to earth itself as
ponderous as the problem of world destiny. He smiled as he told me
that the lad would evaluate his problems differently after tonight.

"Yes," I agreed. "Especially after your abandonment to the flood of
tears which poured from you."

"Was I crying, Orfeo? Funny, but I don't remember it. I felt
wonderful, in spite of what I saw."

"Yes, Adam, you were crying. I would not have disturbed you for
anything. Your feeling was beyond any help I could give, anyway. To a
certain extent I even shared part of it, knowing neither why nor
what. I somehow felt the emotions of an etheric romance, and I
breathed in the aroma of its outer aura. No doubt those two marines
felt it also, to some extent."

I paused a second or so. Then I had to say these few words, which
poured from me almost involuntarily.

"Adam, that young woman in the glass. She ended her dance by turning
suddenly toward me, and fell to her knees, bowing. Yet her eyes
remained fixed upon me, as if accusing me of something, as if saying
to me, 'You, too, shall go through trials. And no one but yourself
shall feel concern.' I believe there was profound meaning in her
gesture, but I cannot imagine what it is. I would feel anxiety over
it, but her beauty and gentleness had a softening effect. I keep
seeing her, and to be truthful, I do not want to let her vision leave
my mind."

Adam rested his head in his hands, closed his eyes, and assured me.
"She meant no harm, Orfeo. As for hate, she does not know the meaning
of the word. You may not know her, but she knows you. You will come
to know her through my story.

"In her world she is one of the hindmost. But she is learning. At
times, learning is like bliss, at other times, it is a strain.
Learning of things subordinate to man comes easy, but learning about
man, about life and the truths, comes hard. Even the initiate finds
himself, or, as in her case, herself, always in the midst of a
struggle. It is as if one were always on the second rung of the
ladder of wisdom, never on the last. The more we know, the lonelier
we become, until that last rung is reached. Only then do we lose the
sensation of loneliness. What man on earth would not be painfully
lonely if he paused long enough to do some truly profound thinking?
But in the glory of the final ascension, thinking becomes life
itself, and then loneliness becomes an erased fantasy."

(As I listened to him I realized it was going to be very difficult to
relate his story in the second person, as he suggested. In the months
that followed I had to decide to tell it as it could be told, to
adhere to the facts, and swing from first person to second person
when and however required. After all, he did say to disregard
anything he advised, if necessary.)

At intervals we could hear the traffic passing by about thirty yards
away. The aroma of the brewing coffee was pleasant. Now and then an
airplane droned past, going eastward or westward. There was nothing
outwardly different about this night, but Adam and I felt different.
In a sense, we were different. We were still enhanced by the effect
of the nectar.

Then Adam began his long story. The telling of it took up most of
three nights.

*  *  *  *

"It may sound strange, Orfeo, but after the first shock of
realization of my incurable condition leveled off to a resignation
and acceptance of it, all things seemed to change in my perspective.
It was as though my whole being did a flip-over, like pulling the
cord of a Venetian blind. What had been to me the big things of life
became insignificant, and the little things took on great
significance. I had been seeing life and the world in a distorted
way, as a trained seal might see it. But the reality of my condition,
and the sudden and urgent awakening within me, brought everything
into proper scope. There was now more meaning to everything, even to
a spider's web. There was less meaning to the artifices of man-made
things; they became mere fads, coming and going.

"In the blindness of the masses, I began to perceive a vaporous
thread of essence, a small essence distilled from the gigantic world
of turbulence. This essence became the paramount thing in my
new-found existence. This thread, I sensed, is interwoven in all that
goes on about us. It is what you might call the mass record etched on
the ether. At any rate, it is all that matters on this planet and on
all worlds, in the ultimate sense. It is all the basic truths
distilled by man himself from his own mass follies. On each side of
this thread lies a vast wasteland of regrets, willful mistakes,
obstinate and vain blindness.

"Almost everything you can perceive going on in earth's affairs at
this moment, Orfeo, shall be added to the bulk of that vast
wasteland. Only truth is filtered out, perhaps slowly and painfully,
but filtered out, nevertheless, to be added to the thread of essence,
becoming finally a vast sea of substance which will engulf and purify
all the wasteland around it. That will be the day of Oneness, of
Redemption, and only then can the vision of perfection and eternity
become a reality.

"I can now see more of this essence in the natural smile of a child
than in the words of all the sages of history. No, we do not die. We
simply are born, wilt, and come back to inherit the jungle of
hypocrisy we leave.

"Being a doctor, I tended to regard health as an unnatural state,
while sickness was the normal. My patients were of utmost importance,
and other people were meaningless entities who would eventually
become ill, and thereby gain true stature as human beings. In the
perverted values of man at this uncivilized stage on earth, there may
be some truth in this view. But I know now that health is the virtue,
and sickness the sin. Learning is life, and ignorance is death. The
only oblivion that can be felt is ignorance. The only pain is
sickness, be it of the body or of the soul. The only rapture is
perfect health, be it also of the body or of the soul.

"Why, then, Orfeo, why, I humbly ask in my ignorance, did I receive
the first flicker of a spiritual dawn when I became afflicted and
doomed?"

His words, his fervent sincerity, had tapped a small reservoir of
wisdom within me which I had not known existed. I got up from the
table, turned off the stove and brought cups, spoons and sugar to the
table for our coffee. I answered him while doing this.

"Because, Adam, the real value of yourself is that thread of essence
within you, like the thread that weaves through all society. The bulk
of you, in personality and aspect, was conditioned by society. You
accepted things as those around you molded them. You had to make a
success of yourself in that society, so you conformed. You forgot
your childhood intuitions and instincts, almost giving your very soul
to others around you. You even insulated yourself against the call of
love from your other half, which can be filled only by a woman. You
were capable, so success came easily to you. You are handsome, and
except for your present illness, you are very healthy by earth
standards in our present stage of civilization. You felt that others
might be sick and infirm, but you, never; you felt like one
privileged.

"It was as though God had set a special stage to serve you in your
string of successes, the end object of which you could neither see
nor care about. You felt that God would give you a heaven after you
had become totally successful. But you could not see that God does
not expend one creature for the mere gratification of another. It is
all a brew in the caldron of progress, Adam. You today, me tomorrow.
Ignorance of the truth makes it so. We were put here from the
beginning in a primitive state of mere survival, and all the elements
and substances of attaining to perfection were provided us at the
same time. From that nearly impossible condition, and purely by our
own efforts through learning and intuition, we must attain to
perfection. It is either that or its utter opposite, the destruction
that ultimate arrogance brings. Now, let's drink some of this nice,
fresh coffee."

We sipped a little coffee, pausing a few moments, then I finished my
reply to his question.

"You see, Adam, what happened to you happens to a good many. It
happened to me, and that is why I understand your plight. The sudden
impact of realizing what you had made you shed the blanket of
barnacles from the real you. The one important thing now was the fact
that there was to be an end to you. Spiritually you came face to face
with a great truth. You wondered, how could it all end? After all,
you were created. And that is your big perplexity - why must a
creation end? Your saving grace, Adam, is the beauty of the real you
which you now know. That does not die. It will be added to the
weaving threads until they fill all space as far as the eye can see.
That is life. That is what never dies. Beauty always is. And you are
beautiful, Adam, if you will pardon my inept words.  You are
beautiful physically and spiritually.

"You are more successful now than ever. Knowing you have not long to
remain in your present being, you find a rapture, a rapture that
comes from the grand horizon your eyes and your soul see. You do not
see death, you see life. You do not see hellions, you see angels. You
hear their song swell into all space accompanied by the music of the
ether, the flow of the spheres. Yes, I know, your last few days will
know agony once more. But your eyes will never show what your
physical form feels, for they will show only what your soul knows. So
many men and women and children have passed over with that same light
in their fading eyes.

"Adam, listen to me. It is not only you who must go. Thousands will
have passed on before your seven months are up, and soon after, the
rest of us. Yet there will be more people on earth than ever before.
You and I will be one of them. We must inherit everything unto the
Great Day; remember?"

Before I had finished, Adam held his head between his clenched hands
and was swaying slightly from side to side as tears squeezed
forcefully through his ightly closed eyelids. They were not tears of
sadness, but tears of insuperable joy. I could not help but feel that
one of the mild sins of this man was that he had never given himself
to the joy of a woman's love. I wondered for a moment what the
meeting of Adam and a woman his equal would be like.

The radio changed to rock and roll music. Adam jumped up and changed
it immediately.

"It's a crime," he said, "to rape the beauty of the night with such
demoniac noise."

He managed to find a faint station with tolerable music, and then
came back to the table. I could feel that his emotional control was
being strained, perhaps in anticipation of something he was to tell
me in the story. It was only momentary, for he soon became his calm
self again and resumed his story.

"I closed out my practice. Books, records, and things that I valued I
packed away. The balance I gave to a fellow physician who was
younger, and of whom I was fond. I went to see a few of my clients,
more to ease the hurt and loneliness that was soon to come over me
than to take care of them. I could not have treated them anyhow, as
they were all under the care of other physicians now. I never saw my
office after it was cleared out. I knew it would be more than I could
stand.

"But that is gone into the past. As I said to you this evening, I
searched and groped for straws to cling to, for some hope, for some
finding of science that might cure my affliction. I found myself
reaching through the limits of my familiar medical world into other
fields of thought - I was putting myself in touch with a larger
universe, which, though it had always beckoned to me, I had felt I
did not have the time to explore. All my pursuits and interests had
been confined to my own profession.

"In the last few weeks, I have found what so few find. Believe me, my
cup does run over."

I interrupted him for a moment.

"Hold it, Adam, just for a moment. I told you that you had that fine
thread of essence in you, all the time. No matter what your course in
life, you were never really coarse or ugly within. You were never
insensitive to the sea of higher verities around you. You merely
chose to be oblivious to it in an objective degree. Now suddenly you
have jumped, or fallen, into it. That's all. Go ahead with your
story."

"Orfeo," he began again, "you seem to paint me as pure white. Please
know that there are many spots on and around me. But enough of that.

"After I rented the cabin where I am now staying, the entire desert
valley around me seemed to become a place of mellow things. There was
such a honey-like character about everything that it seemed like the
halfway place between our earth and Paradise. Perhaps the people here
are like people anywhere else, but you feel that nothing could mar
the mystic promise that hovers over this valley perpetually. Even the
most blase and indifferent person seems to feel a soft spell of some
kind here. I cannot name it. You don't know of anyone who has found a
name for such a spell. You feel momentarily the very square yard of
sandy ground under your feet can carry you away to the stars -  even
into the sun."

At the last words he paused, gazed deeply into space and, his voice
dropping to a whisper as though reliving a divine moment, he repeated
slowly, deliberately, "Yes, indeed. Into the sun . . . and out
again."

I poured a little more coffee into our cups, letting him keep to
himself whatever he saw or felt. Then, hoping to draw him out more, I
interrupted him again.

"Earl and you are likeable fellows, Adam. Odd that you are both from
Seattle. You seem to know about him too. You knew where he was
staying, for you came here tonight by your own guidance."

Adam looked at me in surprise. He groped mentally for an answer to my
question.

"That is strange," he said. "I seem to have known him all the time.
Yet I have never seen him. I don't know how or when the fact that
this was his place occurred to me."

He leaned over his cup as he put his fingers to his forehead,
narrowed his eyes, and probed deeply into the vault of memory. Then
he cautiously suggested, "Maybe . . . and only maybe . . . I might
have been given the facts about him and you during the closing part
of my recent experiences. But I can't remember clearly."

"Fine! Good!" I exclaimed. "I myself think that is how you got it. It
strikes an identical note in my own such experiences, where the
memory closed on the events of recent things, to re-open on them
months later. Somehow, in some way, I am more associated with your
experiences than I had thought  before now.  Go ahead, Adam, tell
your story."

My fervor gave him the spark. Too much spark. He was transfixed on an
image in his mind. Though he could not remember how he knew of Earl,
he was remembering something that was dear, yet gone. I left the
radio on, as he seemed to enjoy the soft music.

"Adam," I said softly, "what is it that makes you feel so? Could it
be she who danced in the glass?"

He smiled gently, took one deep sighing breath, and finally began his
story. The stars must have twinkled a little brighter that moment
when he started, and as his words were etched in eternal record on
the sentient cosmos.

"This cabin where I am staying has no electricity, no water, and no
gas. There are several trees scattered here and there. One of them is
what I call a desert willow.

"On my third night, I was standing near one of these willows. The
very firmament seemed strangely different. I felt as though it were
centering its complete attention upon me. There was not a breeze, and
the air was very pleasant. The ground seemed to have become
conscious, pulsating its harmonic communion with every part of
Creation unto infinity. I could hear the crickets and the howl of
coyotes, sharply blazoned in this design. Honestly, I could have
spoken with them all if they had been close by.  That was how I
felt."

We sipped our coffee. I was "all ears." This was the story I wanted
to hear, especially from one such as Adam. He continued.

"I was sweeping into me all the cosmos, or else it was enfolding me.
I don't know what happens in such awakenings. Perhaps it is both;
perhaps it is Creation caressing itself.

"Then there was music.  Had my mind created a music to go with all
this? Was I capable of creating such an ensemble? Yes, I was sure
that only my ears could be hearing it, that it surely must exist only
in my imagination.

"Ah, what a relief! At last something was moving. Besides myself, it
was the only thing that I could see or feel moving. A star had
decided to roam the heavens. It must be a wayward star, I thought at
first. Of course I should have known better, but in such instances as
this, logic is absent momentarily. Soon, this star was describing a
complete circle. When the circle was completed, the light went out,
but I kept on looking for it.

"It appeared again at the point where it had just gone out. This time
it was much larger. It then described a smaller circle, changing from
its previous amber to a yellowish green. The light grew steadily
larger. This time, without stopping or disappearing, it continued to
circle, getting bigger all the while, and the circle becoming
smaller. It was spiraling down, obviously, and this thought startled
me for the first time since I had started to watch its maneuvers.

"This was no star.  It was no meteor.  The circles became very small,
while the object was growing larger. Its light pulsated from green to
orange-yellow, getting faint, and flickering as though its glow was
dying out. I could still hear the faint music.

"Suddenly I realized the music was not imagination, nor was it a
creation of my own. And the object! It was a space ship of some sort
spiraling down close to earth.

"At that instant the light went out completely. Had I at last seen
one of those so-called flying saucers? Were there really such things,
I asked myself?"

He paused to sip a little coffee. How wonderful, I thought, that the
nectar still had the strength to keep us awake and alert. Adam
resumed his story.

"I was thrilled, Orfeo, to put it mildly. There was no doubt in my
mind that I had seen a real space ship. I wanted to shout out to the
world about it, but only the creatures of the desert would have heard
me. Tonight there must be angels all around, I thought, and I could
shout it to them, but they knew it better than I. I could not remain
suspended like this. Perhaps I should rush back to town, and ask if
anyone else saw it.

"Before I could do anything, the music increased in volume. This
could not last. In all my rapture there seemed to be a depthless
emptiness, almost unendurable. I was in some way being swept
emotionally into this emptiness. Then a voice filled it completely,
and the emptiness vanished. It was a feminine voice, sweet, musical.
It strummed my taut nerves gently back to quiet and comfort.

"The reason," he interrupted himself, "I have asked you to call me
Adam, Orfeo, is because that is what she herself called me."

He looked at me a little accusingly, and asked, "Orfeo . . . are you
believing me? You have a little grin."

"Well, is it a 'must' that I believe you? If I said I did not believe
you, would you stop telling me the story?" I asked him.

"No. No, I would go on just the same, so long as you listened."

"All right, then, Adam. Now I should like to ask you: As far as you
know, is it all just as you experienced it? You are making none of it
up?"

"As heaven is my witness, it is all true. If anything, I may need to
leave out some things which are of little consequence," he said, with
conviction.

"Then what difference does it make, Adam, who believes you or who
does not? Naturally, I myself believe you. Do you forget? You are
talking to a veteran, not a recruit."

"That's right, Orfeo. I forgot for a moment," he smiled, and eagerly
went back to his story.

"The voice said, 'Adam, may I speak with you?'

"I did not answer by word, but in amazement just nodded my consent.
Almost at the same time, the air a few yards in front of me shimmered
into a congealing form. It became a dome-shaped craft, sitting there
on the sand. A lovely woman stood near it, facing me. Her smile was
enough to tell me that it was this ship I had seen gracefully
spiraling to earth. She simply stood there by the ship of ethereal
beauty, and she beside it, of living beauty.

"I tell you now, Orfeo, before you ask me. She was not Lyra, of whom
you wrote in your book. And it was not the one who danced in the
glass this evening.

"The lady asked me, simply and directly, 'Having nothing to lose and
nothing to gain, Adam, would you like a trip into the new estate
which to you, until now, has existed only as a dream, or hope?' "

"Even now I did not speak. I could only nod my consent. She thereupon
walked straight up to me. She extended her hand toward the softly
glistening ship, turned about and we walked together toward it. A
sliding door silently provided an opening. What I could see of the
inside of the craft glistened more intensely than the exterior. It
was indeed identical to the one you described in the little paper
containing your story. I could not help but recall your description
as I entered. And then we sat. . ."

"Hold it at minute, Adam . . . hold it!" I exclaimed. "I knew
something was out of place. The light struck me suddenly when you
mentioned the little paper that carried my story. I can understand
that. But several times this evening you mentioned my book. It isn't
even published yet. How did you know about the book?"

"I'm sorry, Orfeo, I meant your newspaper story, I guess."

"Oh, no, Adam. You said you purchased the book at a lecture, and you
even know its title, 'The Secret of the Saucers.' Also, you know of a
few things that are only in its manuscript, nowhere else. Has Earl
told you about it? Still, even he would not know as much of it as you
have told me."

"I don't remember, really," he pleaded. "Perhaps it was shown to me
in my recent experiences, just as I knew you would meet me tonight,
and as I knew about Earl and his house here," he stated very
sincerely.

"Yes, Adam," I assured him. "That is just it. I am of the opinion
that you were shown, or had read to you, a copy of the manuscript by
the visitors from space, themselves,"

"That must be the answer," countered Adam. "Another example is the
fact that I recognized you as you walked in the door at the cafe. I
even called you by name, so sure was I that it was you, yet I can't
recall how I had come to know you. Let's let it go at that for the
time being; it may all come out later on. As in your own experiences,
at the moment I seem to remember clearly only the things I have yet
to say, and as I tell them they fall back, lost to me for the time
being. So, let me continue to tell my story.

"As I was saying, we sat down on the two seats that were firmly
fastened to the floor. She took the seat on the left and I the one on
the right. She was not a phantom, but very real, for we were sitting
close enough that our arms touched. The door slid closed as we sat
down, and I could no longer discern the door area from the rest of
the hull.

"The seats were soft, and were of the same tone as the ship itself.
The floor was so identical to the hull it was hard to distinguish it
as a floor except that it was flat and under foot. The ship became
completely opaque, so we could see nothing through it. The glittering
colors of its crystal-plastic material faded to more subdued tones,
and it became a little darker.

"We sat back comfortably, and soon I could feel a slight push of the
seat against my back, legs, and head. We were in motion. Then the
interior darkened, and all the diamondlike glitter disappeared. But
soon it lighted up again. Yes, Orfeo, I recall having read the same
in your account, but you did not know why the ship had darkened, then
became radiant again. This I was anxious to know. I thought that it
might be the effect of the ionosphere as we traversed it. I asked her
if it was the ionosphere we had just passed through. She answered me
readily, and with ease.

" 'Yes, Adam, it was. Because you have asked and already surmised it,
we can tell you. The molecules of our craft were tigthened a little
so that the ionized layer around earth would not cause a glare
inside. We have no need to do this for our safety, but we do it as a
hint to you that we are going through what you think is necessary.
The knowledge of it is already in your mind, or we would not show
you. We cannot give you knowledge, but we can confirm what you
already know. Our ship can adjust itself to conditions around it to
quite some degree, especially to electrical and magnetic conditions.
But you already had a good concept of this fact in your own
understanding.

" 'Every living entity on earth must rise to learning and knowl- edge
through its own initiative. It is pre-ordained. What other purpose,
Adam, could there be to existence? It is self-apparent, is it not?
Even today your earth is a primitive jungle, in spite of all its
progress. Most of its natives feel it is the final zenith of
attainment. It is still a jungle of wild primitive-ness. Yet we
cannot interfere, because it is ordained by the Heart of Creation
that all life attain to perfection by evolutionary processes. You
see, Adam, all the progress that your earth has made has been made by
its ever- present resources, and by its own people. The glory to come
is inherent within its bosom even now. Its people have not fully
unfolded, and the materials of earth lie waiting to be known by its
inhabitants.'

"Whether she was an angel or woman I could not know at the time,
Orfeo, but she was real, and I asked her name. She said merely to
call her 'Vega,' for it would be easier for me to comprehend than the
knowledge of her true name. I asked her to continue speaking. She did
so, in a casual manner.

" 'Your world, Adam, is still motivated by personal successes, so
short is the vision of the masses. Yet what are personal successes?
All the old ones lie quietly in graves. The present ones are nothing
but conflicts and strain, and soon they, too, will pass forever from
the consciousness of those who pursued such ends. Is it not all in
vain? Is it not infantile vision? What good is all that mass of
humanity? Since the dawn of earth's creation it has not yet served
itself. Its greatest violence against itself lies yet in the future.
Of what use has it been to any other world? It does not even believe
in the existence of other worlds, except in primitive derision. Oh, a
few have the vision and the awareness, true. But a few on earth have
always had the high and true vision. These ever-present few who, by
the dynamic of the love of pure learning, keep the thread of essence
alive, justify the hope that earth will come one day into the light
of perfection.

" 'What does earth have today, Adam, except the little fundamental
learning that has been given to its history by these few? Yes, you
may, say, human life is valuable, but without thinking and learning,
human life becomes less valuable than that of a daisy. All humans
would perish if left to survive as animals do, by nature and
instinct. Without spirit and knowledge, a human being becomes
ferocious even beyond the natural limits of animals. A human can
devolve to as infinite a savagery as he can evolve to an infinite
sphere of splendorous beauty.

" 'That is the one and only purpose, all that is willed to your
planet, earth: to one day stand at the decisive point, when it will
devolve back to destruction, or evolve unto heaven. It will not be a
time of gentle decision, Adam, for that decision must be made in the
fire of Armageddon.

" 'Our own world had to make that same decision ages ago. We entered
our new estate from the ashes of our struggle. We have been aspiring
ever since to a heaven-like glory. Evil in our world does not exist;
only the love of pure learning. Anything short of the zest for
learning, any ignorance due to apathy, and any consequences of these
shortcomings are in our world what you would call evil in yours.

" 'Do you not agree, Adam, that evil is willful ignorance?'

"With that she ended her introduction of me to herself and to her
world. I nodded, looking into her eyes with understanding.

" 'Yes, I do, Vega. You know I have always felt so, if only vaguely,
or you would not have told me what you did. I know that I shall learn
much more on your home ground. But for the moment, may I ask you why
there are no implements in this ship? Why is it so bare? Am I
dreaming, or is this all real?'

" 'It is not bare, Adam,' she assured me, 'except for the absence of
what you call implements and controls. This is one of our crafts
which is controlled by a monitor ship, as a guided missile would be
in your world. Our monitor is not far off. They see all our
movements, hear all our words, and know precisely what to do and when
to do it. You have but to wish to be back on earth, and they would
respond so well you would feel as though you had originated the
move.'

"Her face became a smile of rapture, and her eyes became gently fixed
in distant reflection. Then she added, You see, Adam, our beloved
superiors do not make mistakes of which you or I would be aware. They
consider your safety and mine above their own welfare.'

" 'Vega,' I spoke in surprise. 'What do you mean by your beloved
superiors? To me you are the very zenith of human ascension. I can't
even comprehend one more lovely, more elegant, or more perfect. I am
so overwhelmed that I am giving little thought to this ship or to the
trip. It is hard to take an interest in where we are going. For the
first time in my life I am sure I am in love, if you will pardon my
confession. Yet you speak of your superiors. Are there such?'

" 'We will let that question answer itself later, Adam,' she said.
You have other things to see and curiosities to satisfy, which is
enough for the present.

" 'Do you feel the gentle push of the ship upon your body? That is
because we are still gaining speed, or accelerating. Would you
believe we are traveling at two million miles per hour at this
moment?' she asked.

"I was startled, but did not reply. I let my look tell her of my
amazement, as she continued.

' 'Yes, Adam, we are now going even faster. Soon we will be doing ten
million miles per hour. But our sensation of the acceleration is
unnoticeable. As you know, every atom of the ship and of our bodies
is being vectored and impelled at the same moment as the ship, so we
are not affected by the laws of momentum or inertia.' Vega spoke with
such effortlessness it seemed as simple as reciting nursery rhymes to
a sleepy child, and not like a relating of physical facts as yet
remote from the sciences of earth. Then she asked me to tell it to
her in my own words, as a teacher would ask a child to do.

' 'Vega,' I complied, 'this force field which impels our craft is
magnetic and gravitational. It is focused upon us by the monitor, or
mother ship, which is not far away. This field includes every atom
and fraction of atom of whatever lies in the focus of the field,
moving each one of these together as a body. I venture to say that we
could not even feel the slight push against our bodies by the seats
if it were not being done merely for my senses, and for a
demonstration. They could easily nullify that effect.'

"No sooner had I said this than the effect ceased. We felt free of
pressure altogether, like sitting in an easy chair at home. Vega and
I exchanged smiles in confirmation of their response to my words.
Then she continued her conversation.

" 'Adam, at this very moment we have attained the velocity of eight
million miles per hour. If you will give your seat a twist it will
turn until you release the force. Turn it around to the opposite
direction, where a view is awaiting you.'

"I complied with her suggestion. At the same time, she turned her
seat toward the back also. The entire rear hull of the craft became
transparent, as clear as glass. But all was darkness. She put her
hand to my eyes so I could not see, and asked me to open my mouth.
She put a capsule in my mouth and asked me to swallow it. I did so
without a qualm.

"It must have worked fast, for my body relaxed at once and I could
feel my whole physical being come to a sensation of complete
exuberance.  She saw my face move into a smile, and she removed her
hand from my eyes.

" 'You can better endure the sight with that capsule,' she said.
'Also, your conscious and subconscious will receive and record it in
more detail, and with deeper appreciation.'

"Even so, Orfeo, I could not suppress a sigh at the sight. Before my
eyes was the earth in all its daylight glory, and I could discern the
Eastern Hemisphere. It was surrounded by the stars beyond like jewels
around the head of a majestic being. Its atmosphere made an auroral
halo of rainbow colors around it. Our ship was going away from it at
such velocity the earth seemed to fall back, diminishing in size, and
the colors gradually were merging into the yellow band.

"The stars remained as if fixed, and they seemed to be absorbing our
earth into their own environs. The earth light dazzled a bit, flared,
and then flashed. We had reached a point where some of the earth's
reflective mass had resolved the sunlight to a focus, like a
reflecting telescope. Then, it became just a huge star, brighter than
all the others, larger, and falling back rapidly.

"Suddenly, from the right side, another large orb came in view. Our
field was so broad now we were seeing the moon, also.  Like the
earth, it, too, seemed to recede rapidly.

"I reached out and took Vega's hand and held it in my own. I could
hardly speak, so overwhelming was my emotion. But I managed a few
words.

" 'Vega, I can see why they sent you to bring me to them. Never could
I have been equal to it, either alone or with someone I could not
love, as I do you. This experience demands a sharing, a spiritual
merging, and the utmost of moral courage. Oh, Vega, how can I thank
you? How can I thank you?'

"Her hand squeezed mine a little in sympathy and understanding, but
her eyes were still gazing at the receding earth and moon with an
expression such as a great artist would give to a goddess he was
painting.

"The hull was now becoming translucent, now more opaque, glimmering
as before. Vega released my hand and motioned for me to turn around
to the front again - if there was such a thing as a front or back to
this bubble-like craft. After we faced forward, Vega spoke.

" 'We are now traveling ten million miles per hour, Adam, yet you
feel not the slightest sense of motion. From now on we start to
decelerate. In five hours more we shall arrive at our destination.'

"I had a thousand questions to ask her, and began at once.

" 'Vega, tell me: Are the women of earth like this - I mean, like
you?'

"Her face assumed a pleased expression. I could tell she liked the
question.

" 'Well, Adam, I cannot answer that for you. You missed finding out
firsthand in your lifetime, but tell me - did any of them attract
you as I do?'

" 'Yes,' I replied. 'They did, but there were so many of them, I
thought I could wait before becoming attached. The one who could
attract me as you do was never a living person, but always just in my
mind, and just around the corner.'

" 'Then,' she said, 'have you not met her in me?'

" 'Indeed, Vega. I could be with you forever.'

" 'But, Adam, nearly every young man has said things like that to
girls, and has felt as you do toward me. Most of them have had their
hearts shaken a bit by a few before the right one came along and
really gave them a complete quake,' she said coyly.

"I noticed that for the first time she did not look at me during this
line of conversation. But she enjoyed it. Was I just one of those
'young men' and she my first amour? She changed the subject somewhat.

" 'Adam, don't you have any man's questions?' She still did not look
at me. I had received my first blow. Gentle, perhaps, but a blow.

" 'Yes; Vega,' I countered, thinking I would tax her feminine mind.
'Can your ships move with the speed of light?'

" 'We will discuss that later. Meantime, you must take a nap for half
an hour, so the nectar I gave you will have time to be absorbed
fully, and it will give you equilibrium.'

"I fell back in my chair obediently, thinking I had given her the
Waterloo question - a man's question. I still felt prankish, and even
as I closed my eyes I thought I would give her the coup-de-grace in
the form of another 'man's' question.

" 'How is it, Vega, that we have not seen the sun yet? Not even its
outline through the hull of the ship? Is that too fearsome a sight to
look upon?'

"She burst out giggling. Then she managed to say, between the most
beautiful spasms of laughter I had ever heard, 'That is a real man's
question, Adam! Even that will be answered for you ... by a woman,'
she replied, still shaking in laughter.

"I had opened my eyes, seeing all her utter beauty in her amusement.
I laughed in unison with her. Still, there was an enigma in her
words, and I felt a new destiny awaiting me. Suddenly, I felt
comfortably and pleasantly drowsy. I closed my eyes, but before I
dozed I heard her say: 'Don't forget to ask me about that speed of
light problem when you wake up, Adam.' Then I fell asleep."

*  *  *  *

Adam paused a while in his story. We slowly became aware again that
we were on earth, in Twentynine Palms, and in this little house. We
felt wonderful, still under the balm of the nectar we had drunk a few
hours ago. I made fresh coffee and warmed up some buns, and found an
all-night radio station playing good music. Soon we would drift off
once more, and live again Adam's experiences. He did not appear
visibly moved by the memory of them. Indeed, he was forgetting them
as fast as he related them, remembering only the part yet untold. I
did not call this phenomenon to his attention, fearing I would
disturb the flow of his story.


Chapter 3

THE SPEED OF LIGHT

We ate the warmed buns and drank hot coffee. I did not fill the cups,
for we did not particularly need a stimulant. Our condition was
holding up wonderfully. We indulged in some small talk for a few
minutes, and then I asked Adam if he would continue his story. At
this point I could see the reason for his having asked me at the
outset to narrate his story in the second person when I wrote it, for
it was becoming clear that his reactions and experiences could not be
adequately told in the first person.

As he continued to unfold his story, I felt I was an eye witness to
the events, hence I am following Adam's original suggestion for the
rest of the story, and will relate it in the second person.


*  *  *  *

Adam awoke from his half hour nap on the ship feeling alert, yet
calm. He looked into the eyes of lovely Vega and reminded her of his
previous question.

"Well, Vega, I ask you, can your ships travel at the speed of light?"

"No," she replied readily. "Nothing we know of can attain the speed
of light in physical form. There is talk in our society that our
superiors are looking into that possibility. There is not the
slightest success as yet in their experiments. The only factors in
which we have ascertained and measured the speed of light are
magnetic waves, gravitational waves and light itself.

"However," she went on, "we are experimenting with the idea of
propelling particles to velocities beyond the speed of light. The
process is to focus a radar-like beam out into space, and then shoot
particles into the waves of this beam and in the same direction as
that of the beam.  These particles may then attain speeds higher than
the speed of the beam in which they lie. It can best be imagined by
thinking of a surfboard riding the waves, or a canoe going with the
stream. If either of these also used propelling force, they would
both go faster  - the one faster than the waves, the other faster
than the stream - even twice as fast. But the ether has properties of
its own, and thus far we see it yielding to none of our theories.

"The barrier of the speed of light is caused by the tension of the
ether. It cannot be broken through as easily as the sound barrier in
air.

"You see, Adam, the sound barrier in air is easily broken through,
and speeds beyond that proceed smoothly. However, the sound barrier
in water is more difficult to break through, and travel in that water
faster than sound travels in it would be considerably difficult. In
the case of the ether, this difficulty, which is the barrier of the
speed of light, is apparently unsolvable. Nevertheless, our superiors
keep at the investigation as if it were to be successful tomorrow
morning. The imagination can see twice the speed of light, nay,
thrice, and even a thousand times. But we have not yet attained speed
equal to that of light in our material progress." She became silent.

Adam could easily cope with the facts she had just outlined, for he
had previously formulated these concepts on earth. Vega had become in
his eyes so charming, so deep, so soul-capturing, that he felt he was
being drawn into her very bloodstream. He felt that their souls were
so intermeshed that one was now but a continuation of the other. Vega
stood out like a warm center amid the splendor and beauty of the
ship's interior. What he did not know was that she was the first
phase of his accelerated education, sponsored by a higher
civilization. What he had missed of the mating bliss of soul and mind
in his thirty-eight years, these supreme someones from an ascended
world were now pressing into his whole being like a transfusion of
life itself.

He did not yet understand such things as why she laughed so
hilariously when he had asked why they could not see the sun, nor did
he know that she was only the first of three women who were to put
him through the intensified exercise of catching up on the void in
his life to date in the love and romance department. He did not know
that Vega was wholesome, yes, but placid compared to the two women he
must encounter before graduating to the capacity for love in its
deeper meaning, a love that could not be confined within the limits
of the Milky Way.

Another thing Adam was not yet aware of, but which he awakened to
later in his experiences, was that one does not learn the inner
secrets of the universe without love accompanying the lesson  -
indeed,it may even precede it.

Basically good men learn through love. Basically evil men must learn
through the hard laws of Nature. Adam had not yet learned that a
mysterious force we call destiny had long ago, from the birth of time
itself, sown a thread of preordainment, invisible to the physical eye
but visible and sensible to the intuition of basically good beings.
He did not at the moment know that the love of man for woman could
attain the divine heights of man's love for God, that the one was
merely one half loving the other half. He was not yet fully aware
that every wave which roars onto the beach slips back only into its
own sea. Every splash in a pool falls back into the pool . . .
crashingly or lovingly.

At this moment, Adam was not conscious of the fact that all things
come from themselves, and merge back into themselves in pulsating
motions, like the beating of the heart, the flowing of the blood, the
generation and regeneration of all the stars. To Vega these were
elementary things, long ago resolved. To Adam they were things and
thoughts yet to be learned.

Thus, two beings road on in a space ship at ten million miles per
hour, worlds apart in evolution's scale, but close together in
Creation's intent. One of them, Vega, who was from a world far
advanced beyond the other's, continued her discourse on the speed of
light, hoping to bring its truth to Adam's conscious comprehension as
their ship sped on, splitting the emptiness or star-studded space
like a light ray.

"You see, if you shot a block of wood through another block of wood
of the same density, and at the speed of sound in that wood, one
would not go through the other but an explosion would result at the
point where they met. The same applies to everything known, be it
air, water, iron, oil, stone, or the ether. Nothing can travel in a
medium of its same composition faster than the speed of sound in that
medium, for they merely burst at the same moment and become one. With
the all-pervading ether, the speed of light is the equivalent of the
sonic barrier in other substances. Is this fact not simple to you?"

"Yes," Adam replied, and then ventured to state the next question in
his mind. "Then the theory of relativity is correct in postulating
that nothing in corpuscular form can attain to the speed of light and
retain its own form?"

"Definitely," replied Vega. "But remember, Adam, the theory of
relativity, as all other scientific theories of earth, deals with
observed effects, not causes. Therefore, the theory proceeds, knowing
not what it is measuring nor why it produces certain effects. Thus
the theory of relativity, at its extreme salients, fails as totally
as any other theory can fail, its success and verity finally swept
away because of that universal negative, ignorance. The ignorance
inherent at the perimeter of this theory is as profound as the
ignorance of a primitive being in the scale of ultimate knowledge."


Chapter 4

VEGA ALERTS ADAM

Adam smiled. Vega smiled also, but Adam had been "nec- tared" beyond
wayward emotions which might overpower him, so he proceeded in
thought and conversation to probe into those issues that all thinkers
have wrestled with but never fully solved. He saw in reflection the
seething activity of earth and earthlings. Brothers were ranting and
fuming over such small objectives, all of them in error. He wanted so
much to call his brother earthmen to come and listen, but how could
he? He could, he believed, set them all on a true and positive course
at once, but who would listen and believe? Also, he suddenly
remembered he had only seven months to live. Seven months, when seven
years would not be sufficient to make even a start!

However, he thought, never mind earthmen. There were more questions
to be asked; questions to which he already had the nuclei of answers
within his own mind. He continued his queries.

"Vega, do you mind if I ask you why you refer to what you so loyally
term 'superiors?' I don't like the sound of the word. To me it
denotes a preferred side and a rejected side of life. We on earth
have struggled for centuries to bring democracy into fulfillment. We
have not succeeded, as yet. But you, and your society - how can
evolved ones such as you use those words? If there is a superior side
there must be an inferior side. Is that not so? It strikes a
discordant note to my senses."

For the first time, Vega looked at Adam the way he had first longed
to see her look at him. Her eyes assumed a soft pensiveness, and her
voice mellowed into a romantic subtleness. Cosmic womanhood whispered
its echoes in her every aspect.  Her beauty reached the zenith of
what to an earthman would be the limit of his capacity to absorb in a
state of sanity.

She answered him simply, "Adam, I'm so glad you asked that. You have
released me to tell you why, and I will never again refer to them as
superiors. But may I humbly, and rightly so, refer to them as our
'peers'?" she asked.

"That sounds better to me, Vega. I cannot conceive of your having
superiors, in my definition of the word. I can't believe that a
civilization like yours would tolerate an attitude of subservience."

Adam's faculties were conditioned by the nectar tablet to speak on a
plane nearly equal to her normal level. This in turn enabled Vega to
speak freely.

"You see, we come from a planet which orbits around the star you know
on earth as Alpha Centauri. As your astronomers have told your
people, it is not quite four and a half light years distant from your
sun. We are centuries advanced compared to earth, just as earth is
centuries advanced compared to some other worlds. Thus, we are to
your higher ones what they are to your aborigines. There are worlds
as much advanced beyond our world as ours is beyond yours; and we
know them no better than your world knows ours.

"We have overcome disease in general, and we live in comparative
brotherhood. But even in our world there are some who have lagged
behind. We are a minority, and we live apart from the peers, with no
desire to intermingle. You see, we would not entertain for a moment
the possibility of causing any backward slip of the peers in status,
whether physical or moral.

"We have full freedom, including marriage to a peer if mutually
agreeable, but the peers, knowing it would not be wise, refrain from
this practice. A peer could not elevate the backward one by that
gesture; in fact, the reverse would occur. He would at once descend
and join the society of the backward ones. Only the slow process of
evolution could correct the back-slip for himself and his progeny.

"It is easier to fall, Adam, than it is to rise. It is easier to
spend than to earn. Civilizations rise one person at a time, but they
can fall all at once. If a whole world rises, yet overlooks one lower
being, that being could begin the toppling of the whole, no matter
what the number involved or the length of time required.

"One tiny seed could replace a jungle with an orchard. Yet one tiny
virus can blight in a week that whole orchard and turn it back to
jungle. In life, the good seed is the love of pure learning, and the
virus is willful ignorance. All things pass away to those who are
involved in the evolution, but learning remains, and learning and
love are halves of each other.

"At this moment, and only for a few moments, you love me and I love
you. This is merely momentary, an outpost of love, and shall pass
behind us as we move on. But we still love, and love is our final
destination, no matter where we set our course. In a few hours, we
shall have forgotten each other as entities.

"Adam, because of this awakened love you now feel, you will be
seeking it forever. I was sent to you merely to light the spark, so
do not feel empty, because I promise that for you it will be like
swimming out of a pond into a great lake. And after that, Adam, after
that, into a shoreless sea. You have not missed out on such love, not
for one minute of it, for don't you see? No matter how late in life
it comes it is like eternity, spreading both ways, into the past and
into the future."

With those words Vega became silent, as she sat gazing into the
emptiness ahead of her, trying to envisage the aurora of woman's love
for man in its most highly evolved state, which even to her lay yet
in the unreachable horizons ahead. Adam was spellbound by her
motionless beauty. Then he managed to speak, just above a whisper.

"Oh, no, Vega. I do not choose to leave you or forget you. No matter
what they have prepared for me, I shall need your nearness. Please
add your desire to mine and make it the freewill choice of both of
us. Would they refuse us that sincere request?"

"No Adam," Vega replied, without changing her poise. "They would not
refuse us our true will. But you are not master of your choice until
you know all there is to choose from. You have not met her yet."

"Who is this 'her' that you speak of?" Adam asked, with a trace of
rejection.

"You will spend a few days with her. You will just call her 'Launie.'

"To you she will seem superb. Yet she is one of the most retarded
ones in our world. She thrives on occasional adventures, but I do not
infer what the word 'adventure' would mean on your earth. She is not
base. She simply resembles a humming bird in her motions. She hovers,
tastes, and darts away to the next frivolity. You will find bliss
with her, and she an adventure in you. Neither of you will be unduly
affected. Both of you will learn much that will broaden your scopes,
even after your stay together is but a dim memory.

"We, the retarded ones, will be sharing your rapture - yours and
Launie's - for all of us have been informed of your stay with us. We
learn more than you do from all passing events. By probing things we
learn and rise. Our next generation will be that much closer to
peerdom."

Although Adam took in every word Vega had spoken, it was difficult
for him to realize that such an experience was to be his, not in
dream but in reality. He did not know, however, that the pain which
goes along with such experiences is just as acute in this reality as
in the dream. During his young lifetime he had kept himself free of
romantic entaglements on earth. Now he could not escape them, because
he did not wish to escape them.

He had yet to meet Launie, and he felt as though the very cosmos held
her in waiting for him. This gave birth to a new feeling, the feeling
of guilt. For the first time he had said to a woman he wanted no
other, and now his whole being was reaching out to touch the thrill
of a new love.

Adam grew impatient. The ship seemed to be motionless, suspended in
space. Vega sensed his impatience at once, and knew that her mention
of Launie was in part the cause of it. In that moment she lost her
sentimental attachment to Adam.

Adam looked toward Vega, and with a note of apology pleaded, "Vega,
to be honest with you, I feel myself already in love with her,
although I do not even know what she looks like. Never before have I
felt this way. Who is Launie? Where is she? I feel that I have so
much to say and to ask, but to say and ask only of Launie. Suddenly I
feel no repressions, no inhibitions, and you now seem to me like a
distant goddess. But Launie - she beckons and nothing matters except
finding her. Tell me, is she a spirit or is she flesh-and-blood? Can
my hands touch her, or does she just fade away from my reach like a
mirage? Yes, I know my thinking and feelings are conditioned by the
nectar you gave me, but nevertheless it is my best self speaking.

"I love you Vega, and I love all your people. Yet I know it is Launie
through whom all my feelings, my new lessons, and my new awarenesses
shall be expressed. So I open my heart, and pray I may be worthy."

Then Adam became more practical. He suddenly realized he was going
somewhere, somewhere into Vega's promised "world." It would be best
to ask questions that would prepare him for entry into it. So his
conversation became more academic.

"Are the peers greater in number than the lesser ones in your
society?" he asked.

"Yes, many times greater. On our planet, which is no larger than your
earth, the peers number twenty billion. We, the unattained ones,
number not quite five hundred million. So there are forty peers to
every one of us, the retarded ones. Yet a dozen peers would be
sufficient to control all the activities of the five hundred million
retarded ones. We not only obey them; we honor and love them. You
will learn why very shortly."

Adam knew instinctively that he was not being taken to another
planet, but to a gigantic space ship. He was recalling what Vega had
said, that they would be but hours away from their destination. She
had also said she was from Alpha Centauri, our nearest star neighbor,
whose light requires nearly four and a half years to reach our solar
system. From her words and manner Adam surmised that he was to be
master of the situation at all times, because it was his world, his
solar system and his sun, regardless of his stature in the scale of
evolution.

All these facts his subconscious mind had evidently picked up,
recorded, and now released to his intuition in a flash. Thus he not
only felt but knew he was being transported to a visiting space ship
in which were housed half a million "moronic elegants," ignorant by
their own standards, but to the eyes of earthmen, gods and goddesses,
cosmic "morons" held to a course toward ascension by their peers.

Adam was in reverie, and in its depths the entire universe lay bare
its secrets before him. He murmured, "Oh, my God, why have you given
me so much? My cup runneth over. I have so much of abundance. Like an
egg, it is enclosed in a thin shell, breakable, but not vulnerable.
Oh, God, wherever Thou art, whatever Thou art, since my cup runneth
over in abundance, may You see that it spills over on those who so
need even a drop of this . . . this essence of fullness."

With these thoughts, earth Adam had transformed into cosmic Adam, and
he felt a sovereignty within himself that was new and strange to him.
He knew in that moment that every one of the half million people
awaiting his visit would be subservient to him. His slightest wish
would carry more weight than their combined will. At the same time,
this awakening also flooded him with the awareness that it would be
more fun to be servant than master. Servants may have vague
backaches, but masters have acute headaches. He decided to take the
middle of the road. It was the course already set for him, though he
felt it was his own decision.

These thoughts which seasoned Adam into maturity took no longer than
seconds in his enhanced condition. He roused himself and asked Vega a
question.

"Is it permissible to look into space again? This time not behind us,
toward the earth, but before us, toward where we are going?"

"Yes," answered Vega, calmly and indifferently, "but not to the left
of us. The sun is in that direction, and you would be blinded. Nor
will you see straight ahead, for that is our destination. Look there
- to your right - and you will see what you want to see, and should
see."

As if it had heard Vega's words, a section of the ship's hull on the
right became transparent. Once more there were bright stars suspended
in a vault of space; large ones, small ones, lone ones, double ones,
and clusters of stars in various colors.

Something strange broke the monotonous evenness of that outer space
panorama. A white fuzzy cloud, very faint, was suspended in space
near the ship as they traveled. It remained constant and motionless.

"What is that white haze, Vega?" Adam asked.

"That," she responded, "is gas. It is nearly all hydrogen. Our
velocity is so great that were we to smash into it, it would
gradually wear down our ship's hull. We must have a clear path before
us, so our monitor ship constantly beams a magnetic vortex ahead of
us. This repels all atoms and molecules, casting them to one side, so
it is like traveling through a tunnel as we go forward. The white
haze you see is sunlight reflected from those gas particles. It seems
motionless because our speed is so great.

"Small meteors in our path are deflected in the same manner. The
larger meteors are detected by our monitor's automatic finders, even
though the meteors are far distant. At the same time, our mass-ray
guns are trained on them and they are disintegrated, that is,
atomized. All this takes place faster than you could think."

She had hardly finished when there was an instantaneous flash of
white lightning, its rays piercing the wall of their ship. The
crystal hull reflected the flash into daylight, as if lightning had
struck nearby. Adam jumped.

"What was that?" he burst out.

"You just saw a meteor atomized. Our monitor ship is not far away,
remember? They detected the small object and vaporized it. It was in
our path. This is space travel, Adam. You cannot travel in space
without all these facilities. That meteor would not have harmed our
strong ship, but it would have left a weak spot, and enough of them
would damage our hull in time."

As she said these words the "window" in the hull became opaque once
more and Adam felt secure again, like a frightened child hiding in a
closet. More than that, he felt courage because Vega sat next to him.
Whatever happened he would not be afraid, because she was not afraid.

Once more he realized why they had sent a woman to escort him on such
a trip. Once more he knew that he could not absorb all that was yet
to come, whatever it might be, without the buoyancy of spirit that a
woman like Vega could inspire. He felt he could no more than perish,
and what better way to die than in the vibrant presence of this
beautiful creature beside him? Also, he sensed that what he was yet
to experience would be beyond his most lavish dreams. Could their
meaning be fully conveyed to him alone, alone with his own spirit,
alone with his own soul? The experiences would of course contain
elements of things familiar to him, but without a loved one to share
them, could they mean little more than a hearty meal eaten solo?

He was not alone in his thoughts. Vega was thinking the very same
things. There was rapport between them, as though at heart they were
one. Vega spoke a few carefully chosen words.

"Adam, it is this way: Knowledge in its highest sense would be but a
skeleton without the warmth of love. The skeleton appeals to very
few, but the clothing around it appeals to all beings. Love was not
only the motivating force at the beginning of the worlds, but it is
also the ultimate goal which we seek. We revere the concept and
vision of God, but God seems far away. We, in our world, get no more
response through our meditations or supplications to God than do your
people. Yet we get much more response from His vital and dynamic
universe than your people of earth. Therefore, you can see that in
the eyes of the Fatherhead we all stand equal, but His creation, the
universe, its heart and motions, respond much more to our advanced
knowledge than to the primitive awareness of your earth. Therefore,
Adam, as you already suspect, the straightest way to the Fatherhead
is by the path of knowledge - knowledge of the truth, which is no
more than knowledge of actualities. Not dreams; not fantasies; not
traditions, which are nothing but stalemates; not swashbuckling
abandonment to new adventures, which often goes in the name of
progress, but adds nothing to it; but the love of pure learning. That
is the only pathway toward true ascension.

"I feel that you already sense by intuition that Launie will not be
the adventure you may secretly desire. But she will be a problem to
you, and in coping with the challenges she presents you will have
climbed another rung on the ladder of understanding."

Suddenly, Adam felt the fear of space again. Space, he sensed, was
all about him; so vacuous that it seemed to be drawing at the vitals
of his being. Only this gallant little craft was between its two
occupants and the instantaneous explosive dispersion of their bodies
to the hungry vacuum. This little ship; this elegant, strong,
protective little ship. So silent, yet so treacherous was the
fathomless space around him just outside the little ship. Vega sensed
his fear instantaneously, and quickly reassured him.

"Remember, Adam, even a meteor could not harm us. Do not be uneasy.
Not once in centuries has any of our ships met with damage or
failure, other than those that bore into the core of some star. But
you will learn more of that during your visit with us. Let us think
of and speak of more interesting things for the time being."

Her explanation, given in simple words, made him feel completely at
ease once more. She was a perfect guide, it was a perfect trip.

Ah, yes! He must ask one more question.

"Vega, why is it you speak to me in such excellent English? Do you
not have a language of your own? I would like to hear a few words of
it, just for the sake of hearing it."

Vega rapidly spoke a few words and looked at Adam. He shrugged his
shoulders to show they meant nothing to him.

"You see?" she pointed out. "Hearing our language means nothing to
you. You have no time to learn it, and you have many other
universally understood things to see with us. That is the best of all
languages, understanding and knowledge. However, you did catch some
phonetic delight when I spoke it, and earth shall one day have a
similar language.

"I repeat it more slowly: 'un, doz e pez lo.' It means, 'No, you have
lost weight,' and was spoken once before to another man of Earth, so
I do not harm the code of non-interference with your evolution.

"In the grand and cosmic sense, Adam, there is only one language. Two
complete strangers who are high in evolve-ment could carry on a
conversation in silence, with a few mere signs and gestures. That is
the universal language. Intuition first, and thought second, is the
one language of the cosmos.

"In the navigation of infinite space, there are few words, and little
deliberate thought. Knowledge comes first, intuition takes care of
the problems as they are met, and orderly thought does the rest. The
deliberate mind is useless in coping with space and astral rhythms.
The dynamic of space is felt, as a bird feels its domains; it is
sensed, as a good maestro senses the entire symphony. It is the
domain of the stars and all the spheres around them, and the law and
order which prevails for these also prevails for us all. Space
requires the intuitive mind, the soul mind, for releasing and guiding
its momentous yet subtle power tides.

"Our people come and go facilely in space ships. They study, make
charts that add to our galaxial maps, tirelessly observe things, the
little and the big. Yet, they seldom speak aloud, and never are they
bored but feel always that they have spoken much whether by a word or
in silence. Every second is exquisitely dynamic, but always in
harmony with the moment and the place."

Her explanation was spell binding to Adam. "You are lovely," he said,
in admiration.

"Thank you," she said. "But may I show you what I mean by quiet and
harmony, and how within it you can awaken to much new awareness?"

Without speaking, Adam nodded in assent.

"Good," she said softly, preparing for moments of silence. "Now you
must visualize that we are decelerating, erasing thousands of miles
from our speed by the minute. We shall remain quiet for some time.

"The music you will hear emanates from the molecular vibration of
our ship's hull, and is under the direction of our monitor ship
nearby. To our right a round window will again be cleared in the
hull, and it will move slowly leftward until it stops directly before
us." She sighed softly. "Now, sit back and relax."


Chapter 5

VENUS, OUR SISTER

Thus a small craft hurtled through space, protectively conveying a
man from earth and a woman from Alpha Centauri's system, to a
destination not far as measured in astronautical distance.

As they sat comfortably inside, purposefully quiet, the music that
Vega had promised Adam pealed through the ship's interior. A round
section of the ship's shell became a transparent window, similar to a
porthole.

As Adam related it to me that night at our small table, he was again
listening to the music in memory. Once more he saw stars suspended in
the vault of space. But under the spell of such music as he was
hearing they were different to him.

There was a special message, silent yet clearly discernible, being
communicated to him from that reachless cosmos. He knew with a
conviction translated to his senses as wondrous, soft essences of
truth that those spheres, those glaring spheres, were in their cores
the embodiment of ultimate or absolute heat. More startling was his
sudden awareness that every light ray is a small source or container
of ultimate heat, for no body can be hotter than its components. It
followed that absolute zero does not exist anywhere in the universe.
If it does exist, he thought, it must be cloistered in the very
archives of the Creator as the most rare jewel that is. That jewel
would be a piece of solid ether.

In the quiet reverie within the ship, Adam's subconscious mind was
yielding up to his conscious mind the highlights of his present earth
lifetime, his nobler aspirations as well as his baser inclinations,
passing like a pageant before him. He felt from deep within that he
was being unfolded in preparation for his entry into Vega's society.
He felt he was being readied by the minute, for he was so
effortlessly grasping an understanding of all things - all, that is,
except mathematics, in which he remained impoverished. Yet he felt
that his mathematical poverty was amply compensated for by the wealth
of understanding coming to him as a result of these immeasurable
thoughts and visions. The music seemed to accent his intuitions.

Vega had spoken in wisdom. Things Adam had once merely assumed now
became confirmed knowledge to him; false premises were quickly
rejected by his enlarged scope. Yes, in the upheavals which were
ushering in this new awareness, mathematics would dissolve even
from the consciousness of a genius. Indeed, he knew now that men of
earth have not measured anything as yet. It was clear to him now that
all the physical concepts of his brother earthmen were erroneous.
Atoms were not spinning packets of energy; they were bubbles in the
ether. The music itself was emanating from vibrating ether. The
universe was one grandiose spectacle of spheres within spheres.

Something strange was taking place. The "window" had reached a
position directly in front of Vega and him, but it was also growing
steadily larger, like a balloon being inflated. Its clear crystal
structure began to turn cloudy. Soon it became soupy thick and the
cloud surged and swirled, obliterating all the stars completely. The
music stopped momentarily, then began again, this time surely coming
from that now enlarged window, as through a swirling, cloudy
television screen.

The mood of the music changed to deeply vibrant, inspiring strains
with lively tempo. Strain merged into strain. The clear window took
on a fresh green hue, and Vega put her hand to her eyes as she ended
the period of Adam's silent instruction with, "Adam, that is my
people's anthem; the anthem of our own planet. When we land on our
home ship you may refer to our social strata as the 'regulars' and
the 'peers.' Remember this, the 'regulars' number nearly half a
million, and the 'peers' number not more than one thousand. That is
all you need bear in mind."

The green of the window now faded to soft yellow, then gradually
became orange, then amber. Soon it evolved to the white of brilliant
clouds.

"Vega," Adam said, in wonderment. "It grows whiter and whiter,
cloudier and cloudier.  What is the meaning of it?"

"That," she replied with a smile of contentment, "is the outer
atmosphere of Venus. We are approaching home base. It belongs more to
you than it does to us, even though you feel as a stranger. You see,
it is the closest sister planet earth has in its own solar system. We
are visitors, Adam, but you are a son. We shall honor your every
mature wish. We visit, but we do not conquer and impose. We observe,
but we do not intrude and interfere. We inherit our estate, because
we remain meek. We enter gates where so many meet with destruction.
Adam, hold your head high always, but always in the fresh air of
humility, of understanding. Let your soul cry, but let not your mind
be dampened by its tears."

With those words she removed her hand from her eyes.

By this time the planet Venus filled their entire field of vision. It
no longer seemed as though they were going toward it horizontally,
but rather as if they were falling down into the clouds. Thus Adam
learned that the perspective of going down is only virtual. When an
object fills the entire field of vision the sense of going down is
experienced instead of the reality of going toward it. Gravity helps
to produce the illusion of a downward fall.

Yet the surface of Venus must have been a great distance away,
because Vega put her hand to Adam's eyes, telling him not to look
until she removed her hand from his vision. During the next crucial
moments she spoke mere nonsense to him, to help the time pass by.

Suddenly there was a steady roar, and the ship vibrated sharply. Adam
knew the ship had entered the dense cloudbeds of Venus. For the first
time he could sense a slowing down by the grind of the ship against
the atmosphere. He was glad he was being spared watching this phase
of the landing, and his regard of Vega swelled once more into love.
She was so expert in her manifold roles, so spontaneous in her
expression of appreciation for the opportunity that had been hers to
serve a man of earth. Thus it had not really been love either of them
had felt, but the exuberance of a new experience.

Romance, love. What were these things, then? She had promised Adam he
would be introduced to them in their fullness. Even as his eyes were
still occluded by Vega's hand and the ship roared to slower velocity,
he could think only of his next great adventure. One name sought to
fill his entire consciousness, the name of Launie. The wearer of the
name would be touchable flesh-and-blood, he felt sure. But then,
suppose it was to be merely an apparition in the mist? Would he be
brought to the fountain to drink, and the drink be turned to mere
vapor on his lips? No, no; space visitors would not play such
earth-like pranks. With that realization he became patience itself,
knowing his greatest fulfillment was immutably waiting for him.
"Launie," he thought unconsciously hoping there would be no more to
experience beyond her. Forever with her would be enough.

Though Launie was to give substance to the purpose of his existence
he felt he had longed for her from time immemorial, this she whom he
knew not, one thing was certain: Vega had become just another human
being in his mind, and he knew he could live with or without her. It
was Launie, he felt, who was his other half from the day he was born
and would be until the day he should die, though she was a daughter
of Alpha Centauri, and he was a son of the sun. Vega's role had been
that of escort.

The ship came to a complete halt, paused a silent moment, then
continued slowly forward. Vega removed her hands from his eyes, and
before him appeared a new world. An ethereal horizon closed down
sharply not far ahead.

"This is our home, Adam. We have entered on one side of it, and the
horizon you see ahead is ten miles away. Yes, it is one large ship
containing a self-composed world ten miles in diameter and housing
five hundred thousand people. It is shaped like two saucers facing
each other; or like the solar system. It resembles a galaxy, Adam, so
how about giving it a name at once?"

"Good!" Adam exclaimed. "As long as I am involved with it I shall
call it 'Andromeda', my nearest, or our nearest, sister universe,
Hail, Andromeda; hail, wonderful Andromeda!"

Though deep in his story, Adam paused in his telling of it. We
glanced at the clock and saw that it was 3:00 in the morning. The
deep quiet of the desert was far from our consciousness, and there
was no longer time for us. We felt only the life and imperceptible
motion of which all things are. I felt that the very walls of the
house had absorbed Adam's story, and remained attentive in their
silence. He seemed to be apart from everything around him, including
me, speaking his words as if they were meant for unseen people, and
perhaps the walls, floor, ceiling, and the ether.

The moment's pause was broken by the sound of a car passing by, going
toward the marine base, a lone sound making a slight dent in the
boundless quiet. As if aroused by the sound, Adam resumed his story.


Chapter 6

LANDING ABOARD ANDROMEDA

Placing her hand over Adam's eyes had no special significance. It was
merely a whim on Vega's part. She did, however, feel that she wanted
him to see the interior of her huge space ship suddenly, not
gradually. Thus she had hidden from him the details of the entry from
outer space into the safety of Andromeda. He had entered into a
strange civilization with only Vega as his identifying requisite. He
was not asked for his credentials by anyone.

Their small craft was now gliding at less than twenty miles per hour,
gracefully weaving and dipping toward the center of this little
artificial world. Adam saw the area below him as they soared in
midair over the beautiful city; a city inside a huge space ship.

Vega threw kisses with her hand to the waving throng just below. By
the thousands they kissed back, with graceful hands and child-like
smiles. Adam was in the fifth estate. It was like looking upon his
earth fellows transformed into angels, viewed from his "magic
carpet."

Their craft was overtaken by a long ship which went forth as if
oblivious to the waving people below.

"That is the ship which monitored us here from earth," Vega
announced. "It is going to its hangar."

Their own little craft descended to barely ten feet above the grassy
streets, and slowed to a glide. The people cheered by song as they
waved, bowed gracefully, or danced about. It was one grand symphony
of welc