CHAPTER XI
THE UNIVERSE OF THOUGHT
I shall revert now to Will's experience during that attack upon the meeting house as he later described it to me. He had been crouching near Ala. When the hostile shapes burst in, he clung to her. Will was more alert than I to the conditions of this strange existence. He gave no thought to a physical violence; he knew it was the mental struggle which was to be feared; and he kept his mind alert, aggressive to attack.
Ala too, was of help. He heard her murmuring, "Be very careful. Let no evil thought-waves engulf us."
A shape whirled up—a leering man. But Will's thoughts were stronger. The waves clashed with a visible front of conflict; a faint glow of luminous black, in a very palpable heat. The shape cowered, retreated, slunk away.
Everywhere the struggle was proceeding. Upon the center ball Ala's father stood, and with roaring voice and a will more defiant than any within the globe, he strove to quell the invaders. Beat them back. Some retreated; some fell, lying crumpled and inert. Dead? We may call them so. Bodies unharmed. Minds driven into darkness; driven away, to leave an empty shell behind them. Soon the confusion was over. The amphitheatre was strewn with mindless bodies; the dead—never to move again, and others, injured; minds unhinged—irrationally wandering, to return, some of them, to reach again their accustomed abode.
Ala's father—they called him Thone—found his daughter with Will; took Will to his home, where for a nameless time they were together, exchanging friendly thoughts that each might know what manner of world was his friend's. To Will it was the first rationality of this new realm. They reclined within a globe of luxurious fittings which gave a sense of peace, luxury, well-being of the mind, derived by what means Will could not say. He only was aware that Ala was beside him, her father facing them.
He had thought of Bee and of me with fear—had wondered where we were, had wished we were with him. But Thone had told him not to be afraid. It was so easy to wander. We had not come to harm within the meeting house. We would presently come back, or if we did not, he would send out and find us.
The interior of the globe was vaguely luminous. Thone said, "We would perhaps be more comfortable if we could see outside." He murmured words—commands spoken aloud; and a shell of the globe in a patch above them slowly seemed to dissolve—or at least become transparent, so that they saw through it a vista of the city of globes—a city lying then in the vertical plane with the black void of darkness to one side.
Thone was a grave man of dominant aspect; eyes from which shone a power of mind unmistakable. He listened silently while Will tried to describe our Earthly existence. Occasionally he would question, smiling his doubts. At last he said, "It seems very queer to have the mind so enchained by its body."
Then Thone spoke of his own realm. "We Egos—" The word struck upon Will's consciousness with an aptness startling. Egos! Why, of course. These were not people. He—himself—was no longer a man; an Ego, little more.
"We Egos live so different a life. It is nearly all mental. This body—" He struck himself. "It is negligible."
Soon they were plunged into scientific discussion, for only by an attempt at comparison in terms of science could Will hope to grasp the elements of this new material universe. He said so, frankly; and Thone at once acquiesced.
"I will try," he smiled, "to tell you the essence of all we know of—shall we call it the construction of this universe of ours? All we know. My friend, it is only the wise man who knows how little is his knowledge.
"Our world then is a void of Space and Time. The Space of itself is Nothingness, illimitable. Yet to our consciousness it has a shape, a curvature, like this that is around us now." He indicated the hollow interior of the globe. "To traverse it in a single direction, one always tends to return."
Will said: "A globular void of Space. I can understand that. But how big is it?"
"There is no answer to such a question," Thone replied gravely. "To our material existence, our consciousness, it is a finite area, yet within it some of us may go further than others. A mind unhinged takes its body very far—or so we believe—and yet sometimes returns safely. A mind departed from its physical shell which it then leaves behind—is gone forever. Yet that too, is illogical, for traversing a curved path such as ours—however slight may be the curve—one must eventually return. And out of this we have built a theory that such a mind—or as we call it, an Ego—untrammeled—will return sometime to take a new body. But I must not confuse you with mere theories when there is so much of fact which is confusing enough no doubt."
"That's not confusing," said Will. "We likewise have such a theory—we call it reincarnation."
Thone went on: "We have then, a void of curved Space. Within it exist Thoughts; material entities persisting in Space for a length of Time. Thus Time is brought into our Universe; but not Time as you have described it to me. Ours, like yours, is the measure of distance between two or more events. But the distance is very dimly perceived by our senses."
"Wait," said Will, "Before you discuss Time, let me understand the other. All your material entities are Thoughts? That is incomprehensible to me."
Thone deliberated. "I suppose that is natural," he declared at last. "Your substance—as it appears to you—has a greater solidity than the substance of your mentality."
It was Will's turn to smile. "The latter, with us, has no substance at all. The human mind—as distinct from our physical brain—is wholly intangible. And it is one of the things we know least about."
"Perhaps that is why it seems so unsubstantial," Thone retorted. "At all events, with us mind-qualities are the basic substance out of which all matter is built. A variety of qualities, which vary the resultant product, be it an Ego, or a thing inert, all are from the same source—a thought."
A Universe built from a Thought! Yet to Will then came the realization that our realm is of an essence equally unsubstantial—our own matter—rock, metal, living organisms, what are they of their essence save a mere vortex, a whirlpool of Nothingness?
A question came to Will; and even as he asked it, he knew its answer. "Your Universe built from a Thought? Whose thought? You start with Nothing, yet you presuppose the existence of a Mind to think that thought."
"A Mind All-Knowing," Thone answered very slowly. "A mind Omniscient. Have you not spoken of your own belief in such a mind? We call it our Creator-Mind—as quite literally it is."
Will said, "Of itself; that is not concrete to me who am in a measure of scientific reasoning."
Thone said warmly, "That is where you of your Earth—as you call it—are wholly mistaken. And indeed, I begin to see where there is not so much difference between your world and mine as we suppose. Let us assume we have the same Creator, his thought to bring us and all that we call our Universe into being."
"Granted," said Will. "But there the similarity ends. You start with a Thought? We start—"
"With what?" Thone demanded.
"Scientifically speaking," Will answered lamely, "we have no beginning. At least, we have not yet been able to explain it."
"We then are more logical than you," Ala put in with a gentle smile.
"Perhaps," agreed Will. "But you cannot connect your Thought with your Science—or at least you have not, to me as yet."
"But I will," declared Thone. "We take this Thought and find it to be a vibration of Nothingness. Of what is your basic substance composed?"
"The same," said Will.
"Quite naturally. We are then of a similar origin—constructed only to a different result. Our substance, in its final state, remains to our consciousness a vibration of Thought. It is quite tangible. Let me show you. Touch me—your hand feels me? That is the physical—cohesive Thought—matter, persisting in Space and Time throughout my existence. Distinct from that, there is my material—mentality. It also persists in Space and Time, but to a lesser degree. More transitory. More varied in its outward qualities, since I can fling out thought—vibrations of good or ill—of many kinds and types.
"Understand me, my friend. This is Matter of temporary duration which I can create myself at will. Or—in terms of your own realm, if you prefer—I can set into vibration, into motion, intangible matter already existing, and by its very motion bring it to tangibility. Can you understand that?"
"Yes," agreed Will readily. "And you surprise me with constant similarities to my own world. We believe our own thoughts to be vibrations of some substance intangible. And when you speak of creating an appearance of substance by imparting motion to something otherwise unsubstantial, that too we see in our world. Water is a fluid. A stream of water slowly flowing from a pipe offers no solidity to a blow from a rod of iron. But if that water comes from the pipe with a swift enough motion, a blow struck against the jet with an iron bar seems to be repulsed.
"That seems not actually the creation of new matter, but we have another effect which is this. A tiny rod of steel—a needle the length of my finger—may hang motionless balanced upon a pivot. It is a material body which we would call three or four inches long, by one-hundredth of an inch thick and broad. We set it swinging—vibrating—whirling in a circle with the pivoted end as the center. With a swift enough movement that circle is impenetrable. In effect, out of that needle, we have created a steel disc, one-hundredth of an inch thick, with a diameter of say eight inches. An area of material substance hundreds of times greater than the needle—yet the mass is not increased."
"Quite so," Thone agreed. "Our thought-waves have a mass infinitesimal. But like your steel disc, they can momentarily become very tangible to our Ego-senses. A tangibility very different, yet comparable to our bodies themselves. Less mass, yet more power. Under some circumstances they may alter an inert substance, as I have made transparent to our vision that segment of the globe over there, beyond which we see the city. Or they can enmesh a material organism—your body, for instance—I had meant to demonstrate that."
He moved away from Will, stood quiet; and about Will he flung his wave of thoughts, so that Will was drawn irresistibly to him—as Bee and I were even then enmeshed by Brutar's thought-substance.
Thone laughed. The net of his thoughts dissolved. "You see? It is a very tangible substance. Yet elusive as well. We understand partially its uses. Yet only partially. Its nature is varied from a tenuosity impalpable, to the physical substances which form the entities of our universe. Like that thing you described as your Light-waves, our Thought-substance can traverse Space with tremendous velocity. Not a finite, measurable velocity, as with your Light, but with a speed infinitely rapid.
"A thought may travel to infinity and back in an instant. That—understand me—relates only to its most tenuous form, impalpable to our physical senses—perceived only dimly and only occasionally by a mind other than that from which it originates. In more solid forms its velocity is slower. But it is all under control of our Ego-willpower. Do I confuse you?"
"A little," Will admitted. "I am trying to hold a clear conception of it all. I understand you have a void of Space. Must it not be filled with something besides these Thought-entities? Some all-pervading, impalpable fluid?"
"We do not know," said Thone frankly. "There are emanations from our immobile organisms. Thus we breathe and eat—the substance of our bodies is renewed—but of that I shall tell you more at another time. You were saying—"
Will went on: "This realm then is filled with your material bodies. This globe we are in—the globes that make your city—the Ego which is you—and myself—other Egos like us—What holds us where we are?" He smiled. "I'm groping, I'm trying to say, is there no gravitation? No gigantic material body holding us where we are: Out there in the open—" He gestured. "We walked upon something. A surface—a slope. What is it?"
"You ask me many questions at once," Thone replied quietly. "Gravitation, as you call it—yes, with us it is the inherent desire of every particle of thought-matter to cling to its fellows. Thus everything of substantiality tends to cluster at the center of the void. Only motion enables it to depart, which is why it must always move in a curved path—a balancing of the two conflicting forces.
"You question me about some gigantic material substance—like your Earth. There is none. You asked me upon what you walked out there in the open. You walked upon the curvature of Space. Upon a false, a mere semblance of solidity which was the resultant balance of the forces moving you. This globe—this city—it lies immobile upon a solidity equally false—immobile because there is nothing to move it."
"I think I understand a little better," Will said slowly. "All force then, as well as all matter, has its source in the Ego-mind."
"Of course. We create matter, and movement of matter, by our own volition. We have been originally created by the Divine-thought; after which we construct and maintain our Universe by Ego-thought of our own. Inert substance—the mind laboriously creates it; flings it out, solidifies it, moulds it to our diverse purposes. Living organisms—the reproduction of the Ego-species—is similarly of our Ego-mind origin. Yet there is a difference there. For me to reproduce myself in Ala, the Divine-Thought—the assistance shall I say of the Great-Creator—again is necessary. We have not been quite able to fathom why it is so—but it is. There is a difference between an Ego and a thing inert—a vital something which only the Great-Creator can supply."
Ala suddenly interrupted; and upon her face I saw fear. "Your friends—those whom you called Bee and Rob—they are in danger. She—that girl as you called her—that girl Bee—is sending out thoughts of danger. I can feel it."
Thone said: "Try, Ala—could you find her? Where has she gone?"
"I don't know. Her thought-matter is streaming back here. I can feel it—very faintly—but it has reached here. She is with Rob—and there is Brutar."
Thone was upright, with Will beside him. Will was surging with fear. "Danger to them? To my sister—to Rob—"
Thone said: "He has entrapped them—Brutar has entrapped them—all unwary since they do not know how to use these new minds which are themselves. We must try and get them—Oh, my friend, there is so much that I would tell you—but another time—not now. For if they are in danger we must go to them. That Brutar is a Mind very powerful.—"
And out there in the void, Bee and I were being rushed onward. The shape of Brutar with his leering, triumphant face swept ever before us. A dark confusion of mental chaos plunged past. Dismembered, leprous shapes of things, which I thought I saw.
Was this insanity? I felt that evil engulfing net around us—pressing us—dragging us through the darkness.
Then abruptly the scene clarified. The darkness melted before a luminosity so blessed I could have cried aloud with the relief of it. The leprous shapes were gone. Motion stopped; we were at rest, with the net of Brutar's thoughts dissolving from us. Rationality. Again I could think things which were not diseased—
I murmured: "We're all right, Bee. You—you are well again?"
"Yes, Oh, yes, Rob. But I'm so frightened."
Brutar stood before us. "I need you—I am fortunate to have you here. You whom they call Rob—with your knowledge of that Earth-place you can be of great help to me."
He swung toward Bee. "You whom they call a girl—" His twisted look was horrible. "I am glad to have you. We shall go to your Earth together—I welcome you both to this place where we are preparing for our great Earthly conquest."
He led us down a slope, into the strange activities of his encampment.