Agartha Read online

  “We don’t know about you,” I replied bitterly. “How can we ask someone for help if we don’t know they exist?”

  “Then it’s time for us to approach people on Earth,” was the reply. “But we don’t want to encourage those who sow the seeds of dissent and discord. That is why we have shut ourselves off for so long. And, by the way, what about that God you worship? He’s worshiped with great pomp the whole world over. You pray to him, fight wars on his behalf, argue about him, and lay all the blame at his feet. What kind of a religion is that? You might think it’s logical, but we don’t. This is why it would be difficult to allow Earth people here, unless they are specially chosen, or are people who arrived as you did.”

  “I want to return to the surface and tell everyone about you,” I said.

  Mannul just nodded, and helped me up from the bench.

  I couldn’t see many people in this village. There were children playing in much the same way that children on the surface play. There were sandpits and swings, and adults to look after them.

  There were pools where children were swimming. The pools were wonderful, with slides which children love. Leafy vegetation surrounded small, sandy slopes where the children could slide into the water. There were exciting, winding, stone steps to scamper up and down, and more besides. The children seemed to live in a fairytale land.

  “There are quite a few children here …” I began. I wondered how they got here, but I didn’t dare ask. Mannul burst out laughing, which I was getting used to.

  “Listen to me, young man!” he snorted wildly before continuing. “Do you need sex lessons? It’s exactly the same here as on the surface. But we call it Love here, which is rare up there. Sex is depraved there. Here it’s something positive that we respect. We don’t have marriage here, but a ‘union’ of body and soul. And a union is always a good excuse for a party.”

  “Infidelity, mistakes, indiscretions, divorces …?” I continued.

  Laughter bubbled from Mannul as he answered, “You’ve got it wrong again, son. Those words don’t exist in our vocabulary. Up there you live like you are just bodies. We are souls with a much higher level of consciousness. But we have as much fun as you do — the difference is that we stay together all our lives.”

  “For hundreds of years,” I chuckled. “You’d really have time to get tired of each other. You need to try different things … even with sex, right?”

  “I don’t see why.” Mannul really didn’t seem to understand. “That’s not how Love works here, anyway. Come on, let’s carry on. We’re going to a kind of symposium that they’re having beneath Mount Shasta in Telos. They’re discussing surface-dwellers, so I want you to come with me.”

  I was filled with curiosity. Maybe I could reach the Earth’s surface from there. Yet, Mount Shasta was in California, and I wanted to get home to Seattle. There would be flights, but I had no money. I said as much.

  “Don’t worry, son. We’ll sort it out. If you want to go home and the others agree, we’ll find money for the journey. Let’s do one thing at a time.”

  I thought about the incredibly cute girl I had danced with, and considered staying. Mannul read my thoughts easily, but just squinted at me and grinned.

  “Her name is Sisilla,” he said.

  3. An Important Mission for Tim

  The rest of the journey was by hovercraft, as it is called, and was double-quick. I didn’t have much time to see my surroundings, just glimpses of mountains, forests, and lakes which flew past — or which we flew past. It was more fun than flying in a plane. We landed with a splash in the canal. Not with a hefty thud, but gently, like a dancer in Swan Lake.

  Here, finally, was a house which looked like a house. It was low and elongated, built in the round, but I couldn’t see a roof here either. It was a shimmering pink — unusual for a house. Around it were masses of beautifully arranged flowers, in all colors imaginable.

  “This is what you would call the Town Hall. We call it the Meeting House. Sometimes we have planning-meetings and organize help. This is where you can ask for help getting home.”

  We went inside. I was overwhelmed by the beauty I encountered inside the building. The walls were painted with lovely natural images, and between the flagstones on the floor grew low, green plants with white and yellow flowers. There were tall, gracious, fair human forms moving around everywhere.

  We ascended a spiral staircase in the center of the room. The building didn’t have a roof, and the top floor consisted of a sort of suspended platform. It didn’t move, which would have made me seasick. Mannul smiled, took my arm, and led me to a large, airy, apparently floating room. There were nine people there, men and women. They were sitting in a ring of comfortable chairs, each with a small green table before them. There were flowers everywhere. The walls were of woven branches, some with exquisite blossoms.

  When they saw us, someone brought two chairs and asked us to sit. That was just as well, as by now my legs were like jelly. I noticed a venerable person sitting in the center, his blue eyes focused on me. His hair and beard were long and white, yet his face was unwrinkled, and he looked youthful and happy. He raised his hand in greeting, and I did likewise.

  “Welcome, young man from the Earth’s surface,” he said in a clear voice, in English. “I’m Arniel, leader of the symposium. We hope you are happy and will stay with us.”

  “I’m amazed and delighted at everything that I’ve seen,” I replied. “However, I miss my mother and my sister, and I would like to go home and visit them first. Afterwards, I would like to return here for good.”

  “Your wish will be granted,” said Arniel. “There is one condition. We want the surface people to know that we are here. You are welcome to return, but first you must spread the message of our existence.”

  “They’ll never believe me,” I mumbled, but Arniel held up his hand.

  “Don’t give up, whatever they think. If you get into difficulties, we will come to your rescue. It is time to tell the surface people that we are here and they are not alone. We have no wish to partake in their pollution and other misery. Please emphasize that. If they carry on, they will cause their own annihilation, total extinction. This won’t affect the planet itself, just the people. It will be serious, and it will happen soon.”

  “Can’t we be saved?” I wondered, terrified.

  “We hope so. We’re working on helping the Earth, as otherwise we may be affected too. You must be our messenger, Timothy.”

  “I’ll do my best,” I stammered.

  The imposing Elder held out a small whistle to me. “If you’re in trouble, blow this. You won’t hear anything, but the signal will reach us at the speed of thought. Don’t lose it.”

  I bowed and thanked them over and again until Arniel, laughing, stopped me with his hand. “Don’t worry about money, my son. Mannul will give you plenty. You may need to stay a good while. He will take you as far as the portal on Mount Shasta.”

  Mannul pulled my sleeve, and I bowed slightly more quickly this time. I didn’t have time to see who the others were at the green tables, but I’m sure I didn’t know them. I felt completely dazed.

  “You’ll need some suitable clothes,” said Mannul, looking at my thin, white shirt and tight, blue trousers. He hustled me out of the building, down a narrow alley, straight to a tailor’s. It couldn’t have been anything else; there were clothes hanging everywhere. A man emerged from the interior and greeted Mannul warmly.

  “Bring the boy some nice clothes,” said my guide. “Give him a bag filled with all he’ll need for an Earth visit. And one of those wallets that they use above ground. I’ll put money in it for him.”

  “Am I going to California right away?” I asked.

  “Yes. There are regular flights to Seattle from there.”

  “What if I want to get back?”

  “We’ll cross that bridge when
we come to it. Let’s do one thing at a time. The tailor will outfit you first. I’ll wait for you here.”

  I returned to my guide wearing jeans, a pale blue pullover, and a navy jacket, and felt slightly awkward seeing Mannul’s ankle-length gown. At the same time, I felt great, and incredibly pleased to be going home to my nearest and dearest. Mannul handed me a bulging wallet. It included my passport. I have no idea how he had gotten hold of it.

  “It’s a new passport that we made in surface-style. Don’t you think we know what you need in order to avoid the long arm of the law?”

  Well, obviously, only I hadn’t gotten that far. I stomped after Mannul, my backpack a secure weight on my back. We wound our way through the picturesque town of Telos and reached a tunnel. There were some small vehicles there, and Mannul and I got into one of them. He pressed a couple of buttons, and it started immediately.

  “Don’t give up, however unkind that people are,” he warned. “And if, against all odds, you meet an Earth girl, tell her about us. She’s only worth bringing here if she believes you.”

  “I might want to stay at home,” I replied. “My mother may need help. She’ll be living on a widow’s pension, which won’t go far.”

  “I’ll ask the stars for guidance,” said Mannul, giving me a shrewd look. “You have to come back, to turn in a report to Arniel, if nothing else. If you want to return to the surface afterwards, we’ll discuss it then. I don’t think that’s what the stars have in store for you.”

  “What stars?” I asked, looking around the tunnel. There was only a weak, flickering light from one or two lanterns. But Mannul just laughed, and the tunnel grew much lighter.

  The truck stopped in front of a long staircase. I gave my kind companion a hug and started up the stairs, my steps quickening as I climbed. Finally, I stood on a platform, and an iron door opened onto what I knew at that time as Life. I walked slowly out into the rain and wind on the great mountainside. Mount Shasta witnessed yet another small human leave its dark embrace and grope his way to what is known as reality.

  4. Sad Tidings in Seattle

  I don’t remember coming down Mount Shasta, but at the foot of the mountain was a small town, complete with motels and shops. I traveled from there by bus and taxi to the nearest passenger airport and was soon settled in a comfortable seat on a flight to Seattle.

  I was thinking about my mother and sister, and there was a furtive tear on my cheek when the stewardess arrived with the beverage cart. I remembered my mother as a fairly tall, beautiful woman having curly, blond hair with a few gray strands framing a smooth, rosy face with eyes like violets. My dear mother wasn’t just attractive, but sensible, warm, and loving!

  And red-headed, mischievous Littl’un, a younger sister to be proud of, but who still needed the protection of an elder brother. She was always much too willing to get into mad scrapes with her friends. When I left home, she was seventeen, and worryingly popular with the boys. My family was everything to me, and I missed them intensely.

  The closer I got to home, the more worried I became. I was arriving, of course, with a well-filled wallet, which I would have to explain. I was smartly dressed and much wiser than when I had set out. But you don’t earn money on the high seas. Well, I would just have to come up with some yarn before I dared tell the truth. Then I remembered that actually, it was the truth I was here to tell, and, sighing, I finished up the generous amount of food served on the plane. To my relief, it wasn’t beef, but finely-sliced chicken with plenty of vegetables. After a vegetarian diet, your stomach reacts to what we call normal food, especially meat.

  I knew Seattle airport well. Seattle is on the coast, and our house is near the large harbor where the cargo boats are moored. Our house, like many in the area, had its own jetty. As I alighted from the airport taxi, I was whistling the happiest tune I knew. What a great feeling! I was back at my beloved childhood home.

  I rang the bell. I kissed the door handle and rang again. I rang the special code which my sister and I used. Nobody answered. Mother and Littl’un were both out, and I didn’t have a key. Then I heard a woman’s voice that I recognized. It was the kind lady next door, known as Big Tillie. I turned around and there she was.

  “Is that really Timothy Brooke? Weren’t you drowned? Are you a ghost?”

  “I’m alive and kicking. I didn’t drown, but all the others did. I haven’t had a chance to get in touch with my family. Do you know where they are?”

  I thought Tillie was going to faint, and I put my long arm around her shoulders to support her. She burst into tears.

  “You’ve been away three years,” she sniffed. “Your mother and sister are both dead. Your sister secretly got married just before the terrible news came. She died giving birth six months after her marriage. Your mother sickened after hearing about the shipwreck and died a few months later. I think she died of sorrow, after losing her entire family. The house has been up for sale for a long time, but it has not sold, so I guess it’s yours. Your brother-in-law, Bertie, moved to Vancouver. I think he remarried.

  “I’ve got the address of your mother’s lawyer. You must find out if your mother left a will. Come in and I’ll make some tea to fortify you. You can stay here until you get yourself sorted out.”

  I went with kind, old Tillie. A cold hand gripped my heart. I had no family left. There was only me. I was the loneliest person in the world. I sank down on Tillie’s sofa and cried. This time they weren’t tears of happiness. I felt sorry for myself, though I knew it wouldn’t help, and I was overwhelmed with grief. I still had a difficult mission to carry out in spite of all this bad news.

  Tillie was a great help. She called the lawyer right away, and I took a taxi to pick up the house keys. He had not been able to sell the house without proving there was no-one to inherit. The lawyer had been in no hurry to investigate. He seemed relieved that I had turned up and that Tillie could vouch for me. So I had a roof over my head.

  It felt weird entering the empty house. My old bedroom was dusty and untidy, just as I’d left it. Littl’un’s room had changed. There were baby things in it, including a cradle — probably our old cradle. On a table an unfinished baby cardigan was thrown, likely the work of my mother.

  I sat down in the cozy living room with its big open fireplace and wondered what I should do. Should I sell the house or keep it as a kind of sanctuary? I decided to keep it for now, until my journey began. I lit a fire, sat in Dad’s armchair, and slept.

  Tillie and her husband were great. Harry, who I remember from childhood as fairly taciturn and morose, was almost over-friendly, thumping me on my back and welcoming me. Harry and Tillie owned a fish market nearby and it was doing a roaring trade, as it always had. They were well off.

  Tillie decided that I couldn’t cook for myself, and she turned up regularly with delicious meals for me. If it was beef or pork, I was forced to throw it away. After the years (which felt to me like only days) in Telos with simple vegetarian food, I could no longer eat meat.

  One day, after a short while, which I was counting as a sort of holiday, visiting my family’s graves and walking in nearby fields and woods, I was sitting and talking to myself in the kitchen. “If only I knew where to start!” I sighed.

  Tillie, who was doing my washing in the basin in the next room, cut in immediately. “What about your old friends?” she called. “I know! I’ll ring the local paper and tell them you’ve returned from the dead. Hmm, ‘risen from the dead’ sounds even better!”

  “Yes, but the people who turn up will probably be the ones I least want to see,” I protested. “There are a few who would rather I had drowned, and I know exactly who they are.”

  I’d told Tillie and Harry about Telos. Their reaction to the story was very simple. Harry laughed heartily, thumped me on the back, and exclaimed, “You spin as good a yarn as your father, my son!” Tillie made no comment on my story, but told me ins
tead how much my mother had missed me and wept about the shipwreck. It didn’t exactly make me feel good to hear this.

  But Tillie was right. She rang the paper, and it wasn’t long before a reporter appeared. I’d planned to tell the truth to the reporter, a middle-aged lady with short, mousy hair. She listened intently, made copious notes, and asked about my childhood. That made me suspicious, but I carried on telling her about Telos.

  Imagine my surprise and consternation when the article appeared a few days later alongside a large photo of me with the sea in the background. The story of my childhood was pretty much as I had told her, but my visit to the Earth’s interior was blamed upon a concussion I had sustained as the ship went down and I hit my head on a log. This was mainly because she didn’t want to alienate her readers. It was a horrible article, but it served its purpose.

  There were phone calls the same day as my proud appearance in the paper. I was overjoyed at one of them. My best friend from school, Matthew, wanted to meet up as soon as possible. He was still in Seattle. He was a dentist, and invited me to dinner with his family. He was married and had a small daughter. I rushed over to their house at the earliest opportunity.

  Matt and I hugged each other. He was as tall as me, but stockier, and his red hair was thinning. His hair was the reason we used to call him “Red Matt.” He still had freckles and his eyes were just as gray and lively as ever. His stomach was rounder, suggesting satisfaction.

  His wife, although obviously pregnant, was as pretty as a doll, with brown eyes and frizzy brown hair. Their little girl had inherited her father’s red hair and freckles. She was attractive already, and she would be beautiful later. My thoughts went to my unruly, red-headed sister, and I sighed deeply.