The Chronicle of Belthaeous
by John W. Steele
Rodney Neumann, a brilliant student of mathematics, has earned a scholarship at Columbia University. After years of spiritual struggle he has adopted materialism as his personal philosophy. In graduate school, he studies under, Dr. Adrian Nacroanus, an eccentric scientist who heads the Department of Genetic Engineering. The doctor’s advancements in biotechnology have earned him a reputation as a near-mythological being. In time, he and Rodney form a master-student relationship based on deep theosophical insights that Nacroanus reveals to him.
Dr. Nacroanus has developed a serum called Eternulum that he claims will increase human longevity. But before he can bestow his gift on humanity he must retrieve a mummified angel named Belthaeous, who has lain entombed in the Cave of the Ancients for thousands of years.
Rodney and Nacroanus journey to the Himalayas to find the hidden entity. Deep in the mountains, Rodney witnesses miracles that shatter his understanding of reality and confront him with forces of ultimate malevolence.
Chapter 42: Mind Control
The Eye vibrated gently. I noted the rate, pulse, and duration of the cycle. I added a revision to the equation I’d formulated and made a mental note of it. Like all bona fide revelations, the symbols flowed with balanced precision and grace. The math felt seamless, and I believed I’d cracked the code to the cycles of Mammon’s will.
The beauty of the formula lay in the symmetry of its rhythm, and its freedom from the otiose prattle of opinion. Neither could it be determined by subjective discrimination so prevalent in the field of the art. The mathematical expression meant nothing but the sum of its parts, their meaning deeper than the finest poetry.
The Eye vibrated to the equidistant code 11-22-33. Nacroanus often spoke of this configuration and claimed it represented the 11 ribs, 22 bones of the skull, and the 33 vertebrae of the human bipedal anthropoid.
Despite the overwhelming odds, I reasoned that if I could make my way into the photon lab on Level Nine, I might be able to access Adrian’s laser; a three-million joule ultraviolet particle beam generator capable of exerting a force a million times hotter than the core of the sun. He’d received the instrument as a gift from the Russian government during the Ronald Reagan’s “Star Wars” saga of the 20th century.
If I could gain access to the device, I might be able to vaporize the icon at the trough of its nadir and transfer its quantum particles back into hyper-dimensional infinitude. But this theory was filled with probability. The timing had to be perfect, and my implementation of this maneuver would need to be flawless.
For reasons I didn’t know, Genibolic had transported the generator to Level Nine while we were in the Himalayas. I had never been to Level Nine, but if it was anything like Seventeen, it would be suicide to go there. I did not yet understand the composition of the elements that determined the atomic structure of the icon, nor did I have a clue if the minerals were terrestrial in origin.
At best, the idea was a long shot. I knew I was screwed. Only a miracle could save me, and I didn’t believe in miracles unless they were man-made. The futility of the scenario drove me mad, but I vowed I’d cling to the Eye until someone tore it from my lifeless body.
I secured the talisman to a sash I’d constructed made from a strip of elastic thermo-skin, and then wrapped it around my waist. I set my watch according to the numbers on the clock and hurried to the lab.
When I arrived, Dr. Nacroanus was seated at a console in the computer room. The neurological interface sat on his skull like Native American headdress. He reminded me of the character in the Wizard of Oz that controlled the head of the demi-god in the temple of the Emerald City. He maneuvered the joystick, and throttled the wheels the way a puppeteer manipulates a marionette. With each flick of his wrist and every tap on the keyboard, Belthaeous moved his arms, hands, and fingers, as animated as if he were a living entity.
Nacroanus did not acknowledge me immediately; always a master of suspense, he remained absorbed in perfecting the movements of the Avatar. In time he spoke. “Did Mindy seduce you?”
My throat contracted and I didn’t answer.
“Surely you don’t think I’m not aware what happened last night?” he said.
“If you’re omniscient, then you know nothing happened, Dr. Nacroanus.”
He shook his head and folded his arms on his chest. “The Reptilians informed me of your visit to her studio. Chamber 33 is one of the few cubicles in this complex that’s not under surveillance. I respect Mindy’s privacy to a point. It’s her private playground. I no longer need to know what she does there. We have, shall we say, an understanding.”
He lowered his head and rubbed his brow gently with his fingers. “She wanted to know the rapture of the serpent fire, and I showed it to her.”
He turned his head and looked at me. “Can a man be faulted for granting a wish for the woman he adores?” Nacroanus sighed. “Still, Mindy is a woman of deep conviction; I’m surprised she wanted you.”
I trembled inside. “I went there because Mindy asked me to. But I’ve found what I’ve been searching for and I know now things could never work between us. I didn’t touch her.”
Nacroanus placed a hand on his chin and fondled the strands of his silky whiskers.
“Mindy’s a magnificent creature, isn’t she? I let her live because she finds such pleasure in the senses. Her sybaritic indulgence gives me a vicarious sense of shall we say... animus. The power of her beauty is that it transcends the physical. She is not one of us, but I have plans for her. Our lives will not always be as insufferable as they are now.”
I drew a sigh of relief and went with his assessment. “I don’t know if you can understand this, Adrian, but she’s so stunningly attractive I had a spell of ... I couldn’t ... the energy between us wasn’t...”
“Say no more, I understand,” he said. “Man is the only animal that has sex for pleasure; that is why this world is teeming with organic portals that hold not a clue of release from the fetters of sensation.” He chuckled beneath his breath. “I find it amusing that she found you dull. We have much work to do, Dr. Neumann.”
“Why are you controlling the Archon with a handset?” I asked.
“It’s a predictable method to study the limits of the Avatar's flexibility,” he said dryly. “Never trust your research completely, Rodney. There are always variables, even in the finest design. It’s good to have a backup.
“I’ve discovered that after extended periods, the nanoprocessor produces cluster headaches that are quite debilitating. I didn’t foresee this, but it’s too late to worry about it now. I need to pace myself for when I’ll need my concentration the most.”
Adrian stretched his neck from side to side, then took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes hard. He stared into space and spoke as if he were talking to himself. “Perfecting the animation of the Archon has been the most difficult procedure of our entire experiment. At one time, his will was indomitable, but a part of his mind is missing... or hidden.
“A tremendous amount of psychic energy is required to control him. As you know, in one week, Belthaeous will rise from the dead in the General Assembly hall of the United Nations. Every major news network in the world will cover the event. Already the spectacle has been dubbed the Day of the Rapture. Soon, very soon, Belthaeous will shock the world. The tribulation timeline has reached its zenith, and a new Earth in the purest ideal of our design is about to emerge.”
Nacroanus spoke with an air of deviant confidence; like a politician that knew the results of the election before the votes were counted.
“I still can’t believe your vision is possible, Adrian. Even if everything goes as planned, what makes you certain you can pull this off? There’s bound to be millions if not billions of souled beings who will resist the idea of total bondage.”
A bold smile curled on his face. “We are well prepared for the insurrection. After Belthaeous is proclaimed the Messiah, the Vulpeculan Council of Five will descend from the Fifth and reveal themselves on the platform of the most trusted and idealistic international organization in the world. Who would not fall to their knees in awe of such a spectacle of superiority and dominance?”
“Delegates, theologians, and scientists from every nation will be in attendance at the ceremony. The auditorium will accommodate eighteen hundred people. Half of those present will be Vulpeculan shape-shifters. At this time, the Reptilians will assert themselves as our creators.”
“What kind of fool will fall for that?” I asked.
“How can you ignore the evidence, Dr. Neumann? The abduction of souled humanity is clearly recorded in Sumerian cuneiform, the earliest records of mankind?
“The original homo sapiens species was created through genetic engineering; these are the mud men and women mentioned in the early scriptures. The True Light beings do not fall into this category; their essence is Divine.
“Mammon imprisoned them in primitive animal straightjackets, but he could not blind them to their origin; they hold the power to escape. But the mud men are connected to this dimension and cannot exist outside of it. We must fulfill our mission as the inaugurated kings of this earth. The time is ripe, Rodney, and the harvest is at hand. Our window of opportunity is fading and the Light beings are beginning to awaken to their essence.
“At my command, the Vulpeculans will rise from their seats and alter their vibratory signature. Their human forms will melt away and they will shape-shift into their natural inorganic structures.
“The rich men, the holy men, and the leaders of the Earth will fall on their knees before Belthaeous and worship him as the savior destined to rescue mankind from the curse of reason and the manacle of conscience. The sheep will follow, just as they’ve been programmed to do by the Vulpeculan priests.”
“Not without a battle,” I retorted. “There will be terrible loss of life! Even though you control the Archon’s body, how will you ever completely control his mind? Surely he will find a way to speak out despite your programming. No one will accept him as a paraclete if he shows even the slightest bit of robotic mentality.”
Adrian lowered his head as if I’d offended him. “Oh, my poor misguided son, I’ve already anticipated this flaw in the design. I assure you no stone has been left unturned, a greater miracle waits. In time, there will be no isolation between Belthaeous and myself.” He opened wide his arms. “Behold the power of Mammon!”
A hollow voice flowed through the room. “Oh ye sons and daughters of the last days, I shall deliver you from the bondage of freedom, and the fetter of death. United as one mind we shall create a new heaven and a new earth.”
My mouth fell agape. The words were the voice Belthaeous used to enter my mind, but it was Adrian who spoke them. The Archon’s mouth moved like a mechanical apparatus as if Nacroanus had projected his thoughts, and the Avatar echoed them in perfect English.
Adrian fixed me with a cold eye. “Now do you understand the power of science, boy? Can you at last fathom that there is no magic in Mammon’s universe that cannot be duplicated?”
This supernatural display wounded me on a deep level, and I collapsed in a chair. The simulation looked so real I would never have believed it to be anything other than what it appeared to be. I held my head in my hands. My God, we’re doomed.
Adrian stood up and approached me. He placed his hands behind his back and eyed me suspiciously. “The moment of reckoning has arrived, Dr. Neumann. You must choose the destiny you seek. Who is your Lord: Mammon, the god of matter, power, and earthly glory; or the absolute Creator God that has abandoned you?”
We remained silent for a long time. A sense of futility surrounded me; its essence the darkened lull of resignation. At last I understood, There is no exit from Samsara.
My mind collapsed upon itself until inside and outside reflected only the horror of this truth. Adrian had won, and I knew to resist his will would be my demise. But not for gods, demons, or eternal damnation in Hell would I ever betray the Eye.
“I see the error of my ways, father. I pledge my heart, my will, and my life to Mammon, the Lord of this dimension.” I stared at the floor ashamed of what I just become and how I’d let this monster control me.
Nacroanus placed his hand underneath my chin and lifted my head. He gazed upon me, his eyes liquid pools, black as the void, and cold as death.
“Words will never save you, Rodney. Only your actions can deliver you into the family. Mammon created language to perfect the art of prevarication; it has no other purpose. Original divine beings could read the aura, and lying did not exist.
“Words have no meaning really; a man’s deeds are the only indication of what lives inside. Words are little more than the glue that binds this dimension together. We shall measure your words, Rodney, and I hope they are sincere. If not, we must destroy you. Do you understand?”
I lowered my eyes and said nothing.
“Of course you do, my son. I can read your actions, and your silence speaks like thunder.”
Copyright © 2014 by John W. Steele
