The Coming

The Coming

by: Dennis R. Humphreys

Tesla was a genius. As time went on it seemed his genius accelerated. It got to the point the government labeled him as a crackpot, denouncing him as crazy...a fake, a fraud. Then why when he died did the government confiscate all his notebooks filled with designs and ideas and list them as top secret? I mean, do you do something like that with the average, deranged, homeless guy when he dies on the street from exposure, his pockets full of doodles?

My uncle from my father's side, Uncle Silas Barrymore was considered crazy by most folks. I think he was on some government watch list as well. His pockets were always filled with doodles because his mind was always going at full speed. He had gone to two years of college with plans on getting a degree in physics at the University of Maryland but he was always at odds with th4 administration and his teachers. Often, when they said two plus two equals four, he would derive a different answer. Between his conflicts at school and coming to the conclusion he was learning nothing from any teacher there that he didn't already know...he dropped out.

Uncle Silas didn't date much but the one woman he did, he married. The marriage lasted three weeks and she said that was pushing it. She couldn't take him anymore. He slept two to three hours a night and the rest of the time was spent in his basement, where he had constructed an elaborate laboratory to construct his ideas and perform experiments. The house was often overwhelmed with smells, sounds and vibrations of a sort anyone there might run away in terror...except Uncle Silas. He was dedicated...yes, obsessed.

I'd often go there as a child. My father didn't care. His brother was harmless. He just didn't want me participating in any experiments my uncle designed.

“When you go to Silas' place do not do anything but look, Gordon. Promise that,” my father would warn me. I think dad thought his brother was a little off center like anyone else.

As I grew, I heard little tidbits of stories that made me question Uncle Silas....not his sanity but his quiet genius that no one recognized or understood. I mean why is it one man can espouse something and be called a genius while another can preach the same thing and be called a lunatic? It's all the way they are presented or marketed. That initial perception that is instilled in the public stays with them for life with little chance of ever changing their minds. I have to question who is really nuts? Then when stories like a UFO was sited over grandmother's house the day Uncle Silas was born and it was a well-known sighting not talked about even among conspiratorialists, you have to wonder. It was seen hovering low over the house in broad daylight close to noon and when grandma saw it, she went into labor. There were no vital signs and he was expected to be a still birth but lo and behold he was alive. Even blood types were different than they should have been with prenatal testing. Something inexplicable happened, so no one talked about it or explained it.

Uncle Silas was incessant in that basement. No one could even figure out how he survived and paid his bills since he never held a regular job. No one ever gave him money and he never asked for it. Uncle Silas was a mystery but while people expressed their thought no one ever actually delved into his life. He was after all, crazy.

He wasn't crazy to me. He talked to me the entire time I would be there. He made sense to me. We carried on regular intelligent conversations and I suspected nothing of his imbalance or lack of it. That's why when I heard people whisper about him if I went to the electronics store or any public place and people recognized him, I challenged some of the statements I heard.

“Gordon, don't worry about those people and their notions. If you know what you're talking about and they're just talking judgmental crap they're ignorant, mindless, and self -ingratiating...good reasons for abortion,” he would say directly in front of them after I voiced my dislike of their statements. Mine were cute...his were seen as something bad. They would leave the area in a tirade.

Uncle Silas was ten years older than my dad. Dd looked up to him as n older brother when he was younger but as he grew older, he distanced himself form his brother in an attempt not to be labeled as possibly nuts...something that was genetic and ran in the family.

The one day I watched Silas run a machine he had beneath a tarp in the corner of the basement. I had never seen it before but he swore me to secrecy about it. He thought I was old enough now to keep important secrets and wished to share this one with me. All these years people wondered how Uncle Silas survived without a job. He finally provided the answer to me so I understood his capabilities and his lack instability.

I watched as he took a small block of lead and place it on a porcelain table. He brought what appeared to be a cage over it that was connected to a machine with a dozen or so wires. Once it was in place Uncle Silas flipped a switch and high pitch tone was audible. He motioned to me to go upstairs with him to get a bite to eat.

“This will take fifteen minutes. Let's go eat something,” he motioned to me and we went up to his kitchen.

Something to eat for Uncle Silas were grilled cheese sandwiches. Made of sharp cheddar with lots of mayonnaise and semi crisp bacon on whole wheat bread. That was a fine meal to him and what he lived on. I didn't mind, I liked them. He always cooked them to the gooiness in the cheese and that was important. Too much and you had strings of it cascading down your chin. Not enough, it was just a cheese sandwich, with its level of importance relegated to the low rung of the ladder.

Uncle Silas looked at his watch and said it was time. Yes, he still wore a wristwatch. I even heard people comment about this being one of the many reasons for his insanity. No one wore wrist watches anymore. You obtained the time from your smart phone, which my uncle didn't own and was another reason for calling him insane. You see he just didn't fit into their concept of normal.

We went downstairs and immediately looked at the metal block on the table. It had changed color. My uncle pulled the machine back and removed the cage with the wires from around it, revealing a golden colored object instead of the grayish metallic thing we left there fifteen minutes ago.

“Now Gordon I can't stress how important a secret this is. You've fifteen now and old enough to recognize this as important. What you see here is pure, twenty-four carat gold. This machine is able to take lead and change it molecularly to gold. They're very close as elements. However, it's unstable and the change isn't permanent. In about six months it will slowly turn back to lead but it takes about two weeks to do so. I get away selling it in this state to finance myself. By the time they find they have lead, it may have changed hands three times or melted it down into another form. The path to me is gone and someone else takes the fall for the deception or it's not noticed at all. It may have even gone into a vault and not looked at for years,” he explained to me.

“So that's how you can afford not having a job! Everyone wonders,” I told him.

“I know...but you can't say anything. If anything ever happens to me you get all this,” he told me.

“What happens if they do to you what they did to Tesla...come in and take everything?” I asked him.

“I'm not a figure like Tesla. I have no patents. I've kept everything quiet and under the table helping certain people in certain ways over the years without the government watching over my shoulder. As soon as you apply for a patent the government watches you closely with everything you do if they see it as a usable thing against others, including their own citizens. Can you imagine how they would use this machine to change lead to gold? They'd first call me a crackpot and crazy. I'd most likely have an accident and then this machine would be used to destroy other economies on this earth. At the very least it would be an instrument of control.

When he was done, I helped him push the machine back into the corner of the basement. Then he covered it back up with the tarp.

I was fifteen then and four years later Uncle Silas passed away. I found him slumped over his porcelain table where he spent most of his time. I called my dad first and he left work to come right over to his brother's house. The ambulance drivers came and bagged his body. They drove it to the morgue to await autopsy since there was no definable reason for death. That night his body disappeared. The hospital blamed a circle of modern-day body snatchers who stole bodies and sold them on the black market. I suspected more but what could a nineteen-year-old do about it?

No one bothered with Uncle Silas's place. He was insane but his insanity paid everything off. True to his word he left me everything including the house. I was my own with a lab to do anything I wanted. He had whetted my appetite for the sciences so this was perfect. What he didn't tell me was he had put everything in my name years before so there wouldn't be a problem with inheritance or the state probate system. The transition of everything here was clear to me. I owned everything and had for several years now and there was no debt against the estate. Uncle Silas' gold machine was at work.

I was busy cleaning the basement after the service without a body. We mentally put Uncle Silas to rest. The place was a mess...disorganized and thing piled up on each other randomly it seemed but people like Silas, while appearing to have disorganized minds things differently than a regular person and knew where things were. It was the other people that couldn't make hide or hair of what they had done, another reason for labeling them as insane...because they're actions didn't correspond to what they might do. Having a different logic certainly didn't qualify you as nuts.

I was sitting on a piece of cardboard on the floor to keep clean. The concrete floor was deteriorating with age and spending any time on it coated you in dust. I heard a noise and attributed it to mice. He had a ton of the things there and instead of putting out traps Silas put out food for them. Then I heard a voice and I knew mice couldn't talk and I didn't think genetic engineering had come this far yet.

“Hello Gordon! Did you miss me?” said the voice but it couldn't be the voice I was so familiar with.

I turned stunned and was more so when I saw Uncle Silas standing there.

“Uncle Silas? How...what...you're not dead!” I stated the obvious...at least not dead in the sense of the word.

“Gordon, we had this discussion before...death isn't the end...it's a transitional thing in another dimension. Different dimensions are logical like the universe. There is an algorithm that keeps everything in balance to avoid chaos. If you understand that equation, you can develop ones to travel from one dimension to another. The most uniform and logical constructs are crystals. If you use them as a basis for causing what I call 'event' you can move mountains. I developed a device, utilizing crystals within a mathematical framework that I can move in other dimensions within my own. In other words, I take my dimension with me. I can cross that veil that separates us, to see you...like now,” he explained.

I went over and pointed my index finger at him to touch him. He was solid.

“You act surprised,” he said watching me. “I'm not a ghost. I'm a solid, living being from another dimension you're experiencing. On occasion you might see others from this dimension but there are certain conditions required to experience that. If you try and touch those people your finger will pass through them because they are only holograms and non-dimensional representations of the spirits that you see,” he related.

It was something I had to think about to wrap my brain around the concept. It evidently was the correct concept since Uncle Silas was here to emphasize what may have only been theoretical at one point.

“So that's why your body went missing from the morgue?” I asked him.

“Yes, I had this device,” he pointed at on his belt...an object about five inches long and three inches high that was two inches deep. When I realized I was dying I attached it and turned it on. It took a few hours to transition me but I was able to take my body with me without having to revamp on the other side like the others. Some people come back younger that they were when they shuffled off their mortal coils but I wanted to stay as I was without having to rematerialize like a clone. I guess I stirred up some crap.”

“Can you stay here indefinitely,” I asked him.

“Sure, but that would cause some problems and probably start another religion which the world doesn't need. I didn't resurrect myself but then I guess you could argue I did, But I did not do it on my own. This device is what did it. It's crystal based because of the perfect frequencies it creates for its operation. Everything, as I preached to you, is based on frequencies. The world's problems can be solved using frequencies and scientists know this...so do governments. Their intent is not to solve the world's problems. There are evil elements at work stopping this from ever happening to control the universe and direct it the way they want, for purposes of their own,” Uncle Silas clarified. I was beginning to understand and put together pieces he had explained to me over the years.

“I'm glad you're here uncle. I thought I'd never see you again. Thank you for everything you did for me,” I told him and gave him a hug.

“I knew you would be the one person I could trust with all this and not give in to the dark side that's growing around you. That too is another dimension as the veil between your world and there's dissolves. It must be stopped and there is something here that can do it,” he told me.

“There is?” I questioned simply.

“It's based on this small box I am carrying,” he said patting the box he had attached to his belt. “I can show you how to set it up. Pull out that large crate over there. It's the large army green colored one.”

I dragged the crate out. It was heavy but indescribably innocuous. There was a lock on it without a keyhole but then I had no keys.

“Just put your thumb over the flat space on front of the lock,” he told me and I did. There was an audible click and lock popped open.

“It read my fingerprint,” I stated.

“No, it read your DNA. Anyone in my family can open that lock. When I read the story of King Arthur years ago, I was suspect of the technology implied in removing the sword from the stone that indicated the true king of England...King Arthur. No one could remove it but the next in line. King Arthur as a young man was able to remove it without a problem, The handle of Excalibur was equipped with the technology to recognize the DNA and thus the legitimate heir to the throne. Advanced technology was available then but was relegated to a myth by history. This utilizes the same technology recognizing certain frequencies associated within familial DNA,” he told me.

“But how did that technology exist fifteen hundred years ago?” I asked him.

“On this side, there is no time. I can travel anywhere along your world's timeline whenever I want. Merlin was a time traveler as you would describe him, to institute the use of this technology in the sword. Merlin was and is from this side,” Uncle Silas informed me.

“Is Merlin there now?” I asked now interested in putting pieces of the puzzle together.

“No... remember the story. Morgan Le Fey condemned Merlin to a cave until the coming again of the Arthur. That's why they called him the once and future king. He was to return and Merlin was to help. He was put into a suspended animation, frozen in time. That cave was a crystal cave using crystal technology. The frequencies it emits keep human forms suspended in time,” he explained to me making my mind wandering exponentially.

“Can you release him?” I asked.

“I can but I won't. It isn't time although ti grows closer. I even know his location in the Glastonbury area but I can't interfere with things set in motion like that. What I want to show you is something that will be instrumental in that prophecy coming true. Don't get me off track with your questions,” he reprimanded me so I opened the crate.

Inside were a series of large beautiful crystals with what appeared copper frames and large rolls of wire. The wires were of copper and appeared to be coated with titanium. There was a list there with numbers written in my uncle's handwriting. I unfolded it to look at it but the numbers meant nothing. Uncle Silas explained.

“Those are longitude and latitude coordinates. There are four of them you will find. They are equidistant, each being five hundred feet from the other forming a perfect square. There is another paper inside the box...it's a deed for the property with those coordinates. I own it. I bought it to set this up without disturbance,” he told me.

“What's 'this'?” I asked him becoming more intrigued with his thinking

“It's part of a greater scheme. These crystals must be placed in pairs, point to point and held that way in those copper holders you see. They're all marked to assemble in order at the four coordinates. There are eight crystals in all. Be careful with them. Do not scratch them or drop them. It will render the entire structure obsolete. Do not place them out of order or the same will happen. Once in place they must all be attached with those wires. I suggest burying those wires so they are undisturbed. Once they are attached you will take that other small box and attach it anywhere along one of the lengths between two of the double crystals and turn that switch on,” he instructed me.

“Understood, but why don't you do it?” I asked him.

“I can't interfere directly. There are certain rules and guidelines I must follow or there are repercussions,” I was told.

“Did Merlin interfere?” I asked assuming the sword's technology was some involvement.

“No, the sword was left randomly for anyone to attempt to remove it. Arthur could just as easily not attempt to remove it. He needed to get a replacement for the knight he attended and was instructed to find one. Not realizing it he saw Excalibur and removed it,” he explained.

“One other question. The sword supposedly sang. I thought perhaps it was a different metal it was made of that when struck, made that sound,” I was eager to learn more about the supposed myth which was now becoming undeniably real.

“You're partly right. I told you everything is based on frequencies. The technology in that sword emitted a high frequency sound that was audible when it was used. If someone else used it other than someone in Arthur's family, without the correct DNA, that singing sword would be silent. It was a constant affirmation of the true king,” he concluded.

I located the four coordinates and placed them into my GPS. They were in the country not far away so I loaded the entire crate into my SUV and prepared to go to the site in the morning.

“Are you coming with me?” I asked my uncle.

“You're on your own. I instructed you but I can't be with you. I'd be too directly involved then. The balance and order of the universe can't be meddled with from someone on this side and that would be pushing it,” he warned. “When you flip the switch, you'll know it's right.”

I got up early, excited about what to expect. Uncle Silas was silent on that. I supposed it was the whole non-interference thing from the other side. There had to be some degree of expectation and uncertainty. The first thing I did was check the coordinates on a mobile compact GPS I had connected to my key chain. I marked each spot and then measured the distances of five hundred feet between them to make sure I had the markers in the correct locations. Satisfied with that I assembled the crystals in their copper holders as I was instructed. I connected each one as I went with the wire and then dug small ditch to bury the wire using a small hand-held mattock. I was done after several hours and was satisfied the way things looked. The final action on my part was to connect the box somewhere between crystals along the wire. I planned on doing it by my SUV where I could control it although there really didn't seem to be a control other than an off/on switch.

I wasn't attracting any attention as I was in an isolated area even though it was close to town. There didn't seem to be any source of power, not even a battery so I wondered about the operation of what I had assembled. I also wondered about what my uncle said about turning it on and knowing it was operating. He didn't tell me what to expect so I had no idea. Maybe there would be a sound like the singing sword. Who knows...but I flipped it expecting something but nothing seemed to happened. I told myself not to rush things and just wait to see what transpires.

After several minutes I thought I did hear something but I wasn't sure. There seemed to be some kind of atmospheric pressure on my ears more than a sound. Then there appeared a slight discoloration in the air along the lines of wire I strung. Then slight shadows of movement, indiscernible and unformed within the area circumscribed. I supposed then it was working but to what end. More and more shadows formed and were moving. Then one seemed to come through the discolored wall there was along the length of wire. When the shadow completely came through the transparent wall, it became a solid figure dressed in some archaic costume a few hundred years old. Another stepped through wearing something even more archaic. Then another...and another. Various samples of man stepped through increasing in numbers after those that went through before them and each represented different eras of man based on their clothing. There were some even in animal skins and nothing else. What I was seeing were the spirits of various men become solid forms as they came to my side representing the entire history of mankind, men, women and children.... rich and poor, all types.

Then my Uncle Silas appeared. He saw I had questions and he expected them. He was pleased I was able to get the device to work as he stepped up to where I was sitting on the ground.

“What's going on, Uncle Silas? Are these people coming from the other side where you are now?” I asked him.

“Yes, Gordon. You have opened the portal to those righteous spirits to come here and fight the darkness. Consider them heaven sent. The end is near and the fight between good and evil is coming. The once and future king is about to appear according to prophecy. He is a descendant of the Christus,” he said pointing to a bearded man wearing sixth century armor as he emerged from the veil. It will be time to release Merlin from Morgan La Fey's imprisonment to lead his army against the fallen ones. Millions will migrate through the doors you have opened to gather together as one as foretold in the bible. They will follow this man and leader in the overthrow of the Prince of Darkness,” my uncle pointed to a figure emerging from the veil as he spoke.

I noticed the figure emerge. He was bearded and wore a simple garb of the first century. His sandals were simple his countenance was peaceful but he was strong.

“Behold,” said my uncle, “the second coming of Christ.”