Heart to Heart: Ashton Ford, Psychic Detective (21 page)

That was the whole universe, pal, even for
the Greeks.

They put Hades, the
Underworld, in the far west where the sun sinks into the sea. But
this too was a nether region inhabited by spooks and demons, and
there was no way there save by Charon's ferry.

It may be interesting to consider that the
Greeks of Plato's time would have regarded North and South
America, if they'd found it, as Hades. More interesting though is
the realization that on the surface of a sphere, any stretch toward
any direction—north, east, south, or west—is also a stretch
downward: down under, as we regard Australia today; the other side
of the sphere is the nether region.

Neither the Sumerians, the
Babylonians, the Stone Age Greeks or any other early people
actually believed that hell was a hole in the ground. They simply
had no conceptual basis for such an idea. Indeed man became man
during the eternal winter of the last great ice age, and those who
survived to emerge into the true dawn of mankind did so by and
large because they had found comforting refuge from the cold within
the greatly hospitable Mother Earth, in her nether regions of
perfect ambient temperature control.

Man became man as dwellers of the
underworld.

Would he forget so soon his origins, and
learn to fear them as the habitat of spooks and demons?

I think not. So I prefer to believe that the
early mythical cosmology never intended to so characterize the womb
of mankind. I believe they knew, or had been told somehow, that
their model of the universe was seriously deficient and that other
peoples on other lands existed beyond the Pillars of Hercules. They
accounted for this knowledge through their mythologies, wondrous
tales of the imagination designed to describe the indescribable—or
the inexperienced.

That is my belief now and
it was my belief on that night at Pointe House as I descended the
nether stairway of the angels.

So why was I so damned spooked by the
possible presence of demons?

It's in the genes I guess...in the genes.
And mine were crying like a babe in the darkness alone.

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Bodies Immortal

The descent was by curving stairway cut into
a smooth stone wall—and by smooth I mean like polished marble or
heavy glass. The darkness was so absolute at the top of that
journey that the beam cast by the flashlight defined only a narrow
cone of reality for my senses to focus on, producing a vertigolike
effect and encouraging me to maintain sensory contact with one hand
along the wall during that early descent. I had the distinct
sensation though of descending around the sides of a large round
hollow—not a narrow passageway twisting downward but rather like
being inside a large vessel and spiraling slowly downward along its
inner walls.

I recall reflecting upon
the fact that my guiding hand upon the wall encountered no seams or
flaws of any kind to interrupt that smooth texture. I have no idea
how deep the descent. I paused at several points to cast the beam
of light about in attempts to gauge the dimensions of the chamber,
but could see nothing beyond the few steps below and above my route
and a few yards of the wall that provided it.

Again though—as earlier
with Francesca—I began to note the subtle change in atmosphere as I
continued the descent. It was definitely warmer and the air pure
and almost sweet in the nostrils. I even noted that my breathing
became easier. Shortly thereafter I began coming into the light;
very pale at first, then growing steadily until suddenly all was
light; not the kind in which you stand blinking for adjustment but
an all-encompassing kind of light that is bright white yet softly
illuminating and does not cast shadows.

And I was definitely in a different kind of
place.

It was a huge chamber, yes—I think—and
totally filled with that strange light—yet I could not see the ends
of it.

It appeared to be some
sort of technological facility, though not of any technology I'd
ever experienced. This was nothing at all like the mission control
center I'd dreamed about. There were no people, no gadgets or
machinery—but a sort of tinkling sound seemed to faintly fill the
whole place—remember the wind chimes I mentioned earlier when
Francesca and I found the access to the tidal cave?—like that, only
a bit louder and constant, and I had the feeling that the sound was
somehow associated with whatever this place was about.

I call it a place for lack of a better
word.

But it was more than a place; it was an
experience involving the whole mind and the whole body. I was
aware

that something that is essentially me was
somehow, in some way, responding to something present there within
that experience, but I have never come to any better understanding
than that. I just knew that this was technology rather than
spiritology—and that whatever the nature of my response, it was at
least 99 percent a this-world response wholly within time and
space.

It was not a city, or a dwelling, or a craft
of any kind that I could understand—but then how would a cockroach
describe to his friends his first venture from the musty darkness
into a modem human kitchen with its fluorescent lights, gleaming
tiles, electronic digital gadgets, and wide flowing spaces? What
would be his point of reference? No point whatever, that's right;
and there was no point of reference or relativity for me either
within that place.

Certainly I no longer needed the flashlight.
It seems like I would have turned it off at some point when it was
no longer needed, but I do not recall doing so, nor do I remember
the transition from stairway to place. I just know that suddenly
there I was in the light, everything that is me vibrating to some
strange new quality to existence, being drawn almost magnetically
deeper into the light.

Then suddenly I saw Hai
Tsu, a somehow different kind of Hai Tsu. She was naked, and her
body was like some denser
concentration
of the light, almost
incandescent, yet I could see through it. She was about ten paces
ahead of me but when she spoke it was like speaking inside my head
instead of from her position outside of me.

"A thousand pardons, Ash Shen, but you must
not be here."

"Where is here, Hai Tsu?"

"Here is where you must not be, my master.
How do I forbid you? Yet I must. Go back, please."

"I cannot go back without
understanding."

"You would understand the understanding that
is not yours to know? Please, do not command me in this."

I am not relating a dream
here. This happened, exactly as I am giving it.

And then Valentinius happened.

He "appeared in glory" beside Hai Tsu—much
more physically substantial than she—in whole body I mean, but that
body was shooting light just like hers.

His words occurred through my ears, not
inside the head like Hai Tsu's. "We must respect her imperatives,
Ashton."

"We must?"

"To be sure. I, no less
than you."

It occurred to me
then—just popped into the head; I don't know from where—but I had
to ask: "She is one of the Immortals?"

"In the way we think of it, yes."

"How 'bout the way she thinks of it?"

"She was sent to serve, Ashton. But not to
reveal."

"That is her imperative? To not reveal?"

"One of them, to be sure. You must not
challenge it."

“
Is this
the real Hai Tsu then? This...
light
?”

"There is no unreal Hai Tsu," he told me.
"All that you see is very real."

"What is this place, Valentinius?"

He replied, "It has been called The Isle.
But of course it is not an island, not as you would think of
it."

"The Isle of the Immortals," I guessed.

"It has been so characterized. But now,
please, we distress our hostess. We must depart."

I said, "Wait!" and spoke
directly to Hai Tsu: "Why would you choose to live forever like
this? You are a ghost serving ghosts! What is the
point?"

She replied in my head: "The greatest joy is
to serve. Hai Tsu very happy. Sometimes, Ash Shen, least is most
and most is least."

That sentiment sounded a bit familiar. I
think Jesus said it though maybe not just that way.

She was at me again. "Please, you must go.
Danger here. Not just for Ash Shen, but danger for his servant too.
Please go back."

Valentinius stretched out a hand to me,
said, "Come, Ashton."

It was not a self-volitional movement—I
mean, I did not decide to do that; I simply obeyed: I stepped
forward and took his hand and heard myself singing "The Whiffenpoof
Song" at the top of my lungs in company with all my friends at the
piano. There was no sensation of moving through space or time,
dimensional barriers, or anything else; I was just suddenly there
beside Valentinius on the piano seat.

So...did all that really happen?

You can bet my ass it happened.

I still had the flashlight
clutched tightly in my other hand, and it was still shining
brightly.

Francesca was now beside
Valentinius at the piano and they were entertaining with a
four-hand exercise at the keyboard. I'd made a quick break for the
bar and had my Scotch-rocks firmly in one hand and the blazing
flashlight inanely in the other when Alvarez made it over to me and
accusingly asked me, "How the hell did you do that?"

He looked like hell, all wild in the eyes
and several different shades of color mottling his face.

"Do what?" I asked, still a bit dazed
myself.

He growled, "The same thing these other
people did. I was standing with Miss Amalie not two feet from that
piano when you just suddenly showed up there beside the ancient
man. Jesus Christ, I hope I never have to testify to any of this in
court!"

I said in a rather weak voice, "Simmer down,
there's a perfectly sane explanation for all this. I'll share it
with you as soon as I find it."

The cop said, "Yeah, sure you will. You're a
hypnotist, huh. You caught me off guard and put this whammy on me.
Now I'm—"

I said, "Wish I was that good a hypnotist,
pal, but I am not. If you think you've been abased, you should have
been with me just now."

He said, "Just tell me how you did
that!"

I said wearily, "I didn't do it, had nothing
to do with it, was nowhere around here. I was outside somewhere,
downside somewhere, clear out of the house, far away. Valentinius
came and took my hand and—"

"Bullshit! He was right here the whole time
you were gone, what d'you mean he took your hand?—he was playing
the goddamn piano and the rest of us were singing and...and..."

I said, "Remind me to tell you about
bilocation when we have more time. How long was I gone?"

"Gone?
Gone?
Man, I think you're still
gone. What're you doing with that fucking flashlight? What d'you
think you are, a fucking miner or something? I leave you looking at
the picture and the next I know you're—will you turn that damned
thing off?—next I know you're singing "poor little lambs" with us
with that fucking flashlight!"

I muttered, "Hey keep it down...the
ladies."

"Ladies, hell," he growled, but he did
glance around and lower his voice. "That woman really did do a
striptease; I mean...I never saw it done that way before!"

I said, "Ah well, it's
only bodies celestial so what the hell. Or maybe bodies immortal;
still what the hell. Take these Chinese girls now, they
have—"

“
Come on, Ash. Cut the
bullshit, will you. Where'd you go? And how'd you get back here
that way?”

I replied, "Would you believe that I visited
the Isle of the Immortals?"

The cop said, "Right now, I would not
believe a damned thing you told me."

"Think back," I said.
"Remember a time when you were a little boy on your grandpappy's
knee and he's telling you stories his grandpappy told him about the
Golden Ones, the Great Ones who came from far across the sea in
great, shining canoes that captured the sun and gave birth to the
moon and all the stars in the heavens."

Alvarez was giving me an
odd look. He slid onto a bar stool and rested his chin on a balled
first, very quietly said, "You did hypnotize me, huh. I don't
remember telling you anything about that."

"Didn't have to tell me,"
I replied. "The story has been told in many variations from Cape
Horn to Alaska, even on Easter Island and throughout the
archipelagoes of the Pacific. This was the only way those ancient
peoples could relate the mind-blowing visitations by a highly
advanced race who came to instruct and enlighten. It found its way
into Chinese legend as the Way of the Tao and the Isle of the
Immortals, into Egyptian lore as the Isle of Isis and Atlantis.
It's the Mount Olympus of the Greeks and it's the Roman Pantheon,
and I believe it to be the source of all mankind's early wisdom and
the first intimations of immortality."

"Are you trying to tell me how you did
that?"

I replied, "No, I am trying to tell you what
did me. But I think we'd better wait for that. I think we may be
approaching the moment of crisis, and I want to get ready for
that."

"You hypnotized me, huh."

I said, "I'm trying to unhypnotize you, pal.
You've got to get it together. Because I think I may really need
your help before this night is done."

He sighed, looked around the big room, said,
"I think it's already done for me. I'm ready to bail out of
here."