'In the city that the wolf enters, enemies will be close by. An alien force will sack a great country. Allies will cross the mountains and the borders'.—Nostradamus
Hitherto, there is an abditive dimension of the cosmos that we are extremely oblivious to its existential nature. This dimension, that I mention is traversed, by the frequency modulated of the wavelengths that transmit the universal energy of its original composition. It is a complete mystery that has remained insoluble, since the inception of mankind. Notwithstanding the evidence, this mystery would soon be unraveled and manifest from an abstract presence unnoticed, to a subsequent reality that would transcend human comprehension with conspicuity.
The account that I shall relate is a prime example of that eventual plausibility. It is an occurrence inexplicable in its entirety, but analogous to the distinctive experiences that several witnesses had experimented before upon this earth unwillingly. I must include myself in this category of the selective people, who have had a preternatural encounter with beings not of this world. Thus, I shall proceed with the explicit narrative of this story, with the purport of expounding on the subject of the realm of the universe and its manifold inhabitants.
Upon the cold morning of the 21th of November of the year 1945, a certain patient by the name of Maxwell Caldwell had arrived at the Dexter Asylum outside of Providence, Rhode Island. I was appointed his new psychiatrist and was determined to treat his mental illness that had progressed, within the duration of time. Inside the room number of 228, I had entered, where I had met Mr. Caldwell for the first time. He was sitting in the chair behind a table, where I was to have my first session with him. He was subdued in his mien and appeared to be void of any practical volition. He was a middle-aged man of medium stature, with short brown hair and eyes that were dilated. This listless expression was due I thought to the strong effects of the sedative he was administered, before his arrival to the asylum. From the information I had ascertained, he was a former soldier of the United States, who had been a prisoner of war of the Germans in Europe.
"Mr. Caldwell, I am Dr. Gilligan and you will be under my immediate supervision, during your time here at the asylum. I hope that in accordance to our effective therapy and medication, you will once again regain your mental equilibrium. Do you have any preliminary questions to ask, before we proceed?”
At first, he was quiescent and merely stared at me. When I asked him a second time, he stared into my eyes and uttered the words, "They are watching and they will find me soon! They are coming for me, and you must let me go!"
"Who are you referring to, Mr. Caldwell? Who is coming for you?"
"I am afraid, I don't understand! Do you mean your family or friends?"
"No, but soon you will know of them!"
I was baffled by his mention of some visitors finding him, but I had surmised that it was natural to expect his words were attributive to certain hallucinatory episodes of hypochondria that were apparent. My first impression of Mr. Caldwell was nothing out of the ordinary, except for the fact that he kept on looking around, as if someone was truly observing him. I did not insist on knowing more of the visitors, since it was too premature to attempt to rationalize, with the patient's demented state of mind. I was more concerned, with regaining his operative brain functions, such as cognizance, stimulation, memory, and salubrious thoughts. All of these significant functions were a prerequisite for his optimal capacity for normality. I left the patient and had returned to my office to tend to my duties and well-being of the other patients of the asylum. I did not contemplate anything unusual with the new patient Mr. Caldwell. I left him to get accustomed to his new surroundings and orderlies, who were supervising him.
On that night the first disturbing episode with Mr. Caldwell had transpired, when I was at my residence late in the evening. I had received a telephone call from the asylum indicating that the patient had been talking to some unimaginable beings. This I did not think was unusual, but when I was informed that Mr. Caldwell had written on the walls mathematical equations with a picture that had depicted a planet beyond our solar system, I was intrigued.
In the morning when I arrived at the asylum, I spoke to the orderly, who had discovered the writing and picture. Afterwards, I entered the room of Mr. Caldwell and saw with my own eyes these unique things described to me before. The patient was seated in the chair of the table and seemed to be indifferent to my presence. He had displayed no actual sign of distress. It was as if he was placid in his demeanor. I excused the orderly and had requested that he wait outside of the door.
Meanwhile, I began to talk with the patient, hoping he would speak to me openly. Thus, I began the conversation with several questions, pertaining to his state of mind and what exactly was meant by the strange depiction and mathematical equations drawn on the wall. He was not cooperative, instead he simply reflected a passive look of disinterest, until I had inquired about the visitors. I sensed that this was a topic that would capture his attention. He started to relate his story about the visitors and their numinous origin in the cosmos and his origin as well. His explanation was meticulous and credible, but it could not be feasible. Had his psychosis cause this alternative or parallel world in his brain that he had believed its existence? According to the patient, the planet he had depicted was of a distant planet, from another galaxy unknown to our modern scientists. When I asked him the name of the planet of the visitors, he was hesitant to divulge the name. I did not want to antagonize him with a barrage of questions anymore of the visitors, instead I asked where he learned to write such elaborate and precise mathematical equations? He told me when he was a child.
I perceived that his unstable mind was contributive to his time imprisoned. I wanted to know more of his dreadful time, as a prisoner of war. I was aware of the fact that he was kept in a solitary cell in absolute confinement, due to my reading of his report upon arrival. However, I was not apprised of his entire experience. I wondered what he thought of the Germans, and how did they treat him. When asked, he refused to acknowledge them at length. The only thing he had mentioned was that they were not the real enemy, instead the visitors. He made a clear distinction, between them and the Germans. Somehow, his mind had accepted that discrepancy and he was resolute in his belief of the alien visitors, as hostile invaders to the earth. I had realized that it was useless to persist with my inquiry, until I could effectuate a concise pattern, in his quotidian behavior and thought process.
Thereafter, I left him in his room, while I had checked on my other patients. Once I finished with that duty, I returned to my office to cogitate the depiction and writing of Mr. Caldwell. I instructed one of the orderlies to copy the depiction and writing, on a sheet of paper and bring it to me. When I had the paper in my hand, I had studiously observed them with complete attentiveness. I was amazed with the remarkable precision of the mathematical equations that only a genuine physicist would possess that efficiency. As for his depiction of the planet of the mysterious visitors, I could not make any general assumption or presupposition, since there was no viable correlation, with his alterity and our present reality. Why was he obsessed with these visitors and since when did this confrontation with them initiate his perturbing delusions?
In my years as a practiced doctor of medicine and psychology, I have had numerous cases of patients, who exhibit extraordinary tales of fantasy or supernatural beings, but not many, who had the mathematical acumen and scibility of Mr. Caldwell. His sapience on the cosmos was impeccable, but I could not dismiss his episodes of instability. After all, this was what had brought him to the asylum in the first place. I did not wish to spend our sessions discrediting this unproven theory of his or provoking his evident hysterics. I thought it prudent to proceed with him, with keen analysis and observation. This was the typical format and procedure I had utilized with effectiveness and result, with my other patients, who had demonstrated similar characteristics as Mr. Caldwell.
When I had resumed my daily conversation with him, he was even more adamant about warning me of the visitors, who he had reiterated their immediate arrival. His stubborn insistence on the subject was exceedingly noticeable to the point that I had sensed a certain repetition in his warning that I interpreted, as a constant reminder of his impertinence. This comportment of his displayed as well, a pertinent pattern of human psychology that was expressed by patients, who revealed symptoms of his exact nature. Mr. Caldwell's case was of a definite sign of the gradual dissipation of the mind and its capacity to create surreal episodes of delirium, when susceptible to its manifestation. I had decided to ask Mr. Caldwell about his childhood, with the curious intention of presenting a temporary distraction, from his so-called visitors. I had accomplished a similar experiment, with other patients of the asylum and was very effective in this approach of assuaging the patient's hysteria. Mr. Caldwell was somewhat receptive to share an extent of the intimacy of his childhood to me. He made mention of his family, with a high esteem, and he was fond of music. He had enjoyed the sounds of classical music, while he was in captivity. He said that the German captain, a Karl Klinsman had a phonograph that played this music. Naturally, the chosen compositors were German or Austrian in nationality. I had an old phonograph in my office and was willing to allow him to hear the classical music. Perhaps this form of stimulation could reignite his sanity. I was interested in seeing his immediate reaction and what more he could relate to me about his captivity. How much direct involvement with the German guards or officers there at the camp had been associated to the visible deterioration of his mental faculties? I could only imagine the unfathomable torment and torture he must have suffered daily.
When we spoke about his terrible time as a prisoner of war, he was ambiguous in his response. I had noticed that the mere utterance of the Germans did not bother him in the slightest bit. The description of his captivity in the German prison was vivid and as accurate as he could remember. Even though his recollection of his imprisonment was debatable, due to his current state of mind, I had not excluded the fact that part of his account was believable. I was sanguine that whatever information I would obtain from him concerning the indefinite origin of his madness had to be connected to the period of his captivity. I had deduced from my conscientious observation that analysis and conclusion applied subjectively. Notwithstanding, he was convinced that his terror was not the Germans, instead, the visitors were the source of the fear that unsettled him at night, in an uncontrollable paroxysm.
I had made the determination that I would cease his subtle provocations for the time being and concentrate my effort in the first week of his treatment, on appeasing his interest in classical music. Therefore, I had a phonograph brought to him and several cylinders that contained that music. I had music from the greatest composers of Germany and Austria such as Mendelssohn, Fuchs, Hayden, Amadeus, Mozart, Bach and Draeseke. He seemed to enjoy the music, and it had an anodyne effect, on his mood and conduct. I found this entertainment, as a valuable precursor to understanding the illness that was engrossing his brain constantly. The effort to decipher his unhinged character was paramount to his progress.
I left him that morning to listen to his music and tended to my other patients, who were several. Mr. Caldwell did not cause any stir that afternoon or evening and his troubling anxiety had calmed enough to not be disruptive in his actions. I pitied his poor soul, but I had seen innumerable patients in my profession to know the important relevance of that miserable circumstance.
I had arrived early in the morning at the asylum and was told by the orderly who had been supervising Mr. Caldwell that he had spent the entire night mumbling to himself incoherently, about the visitors once again. His babbling fits at night were then becoming too predictable and consequential that required introspection on my behalf. Although it was early in his treatment, I could not permit a sudden regression in his attitude and focus. Thus, that morning session with him, I was forced to sedate him, with an increase in his medication. It was not desirable on my part, but I had no other option for the moment, since his health was my concern and priority. The strong sedative appeared to have functioned correctly, and it had allowed me to continue my constructive session with him, without any unnecessary interruption. Naturally, I wanted to know what exactly he was mumbling that previous night, but as I had suspected it was linked to the persistent redundancy of the alien visitors conjured, within his demented mind. This inflexible incongruity of thoughts was absolutely detrimental to his ultimate recuperation and stability.
I began the session with the depiction of the other day, and I needed to fully comprehend the significance of this connotation. I did not seek to impose on him, but if I was to grasp his vecordy, I had to inquire more of the renowned visitors. In particular, who were they in essence? Mr. Caldwell was overt with his unique description of the visitors. He had stated that they had visited the earth millions of years ago and had once colonized the earth. When I asked for specification, he could not answer that question, but he did manage to tell me that they had colonized other planets of our solar system. I had asked if they were anthropomorphic or not in definement and he acknowledged that they could assume any corporeal form at will. Then they were like the chameleon who changed colors when necessary. They were ubiquitous and primordial, as the vast universe.
Upon hearing the patient describe these ancient beings, I had failed to understand the fundamental basis of his argument. However, I realized afterward that the visitors were indeed the indisputable cause of his delusions and personal colluctation. There was no doubt in my rational illation that this was the determined prognosis established. What was vital was to attempt to eradicate these visitors from his brain totally, if not his madness would never be cured. There was a daunting prospect that this would be his regrettable situation in the end. I cogitated that eventual consequence, with hesitation and reluctance. I had not only administered the new dose in medication, but included more supervision at night, when these paranoid episodes of Mr. Caldwell had been produced. I had instructed the orderlies to examine with a thorough eye his actions and write down in a report, what had occurred. I was succinct in this instruction and had entrusted my confidence, in their adequate abilities and diligence. Before I departed the asylum I spoke to Mr. Caldwell to see how he was doing. Inside his room, I found him quiet and listening to his classical music. It was difficult to surmise what was going on in his distressing thoughts, but I preferred that his mind be distracted than quickened by his abominable horror.
Once at home, I had perused in depth his report with the hope that I could discover something that could assist me in dealing with his continual odyssey, with his universal beings or cosmocrats. The thought of returning the next morning to the asylum and being told that he had another hallucinatory episode had been consuming my thoughts too. I had studied astronomy and physics as a university student and was cognizant of the fact that there was much of the cosmos that was not yet recognized or verified by science. I did contemplate speaking to a fellow physicist, who was an excellent acquaintance of mine, about the matter of possible alien life form in distant galaxies unknown to us. But after further deliberation, I desisted in that endeavor and pondered instead, the unitary psychosis of the patient that I had learned in my study and application of psychiatry. The example of his conceivable catatonia was a focal point in his containment and restraint. Despite his dramatic outbreaks, there was no conclusive evidence that he was suicidal in his tendencies or indicating an inclination to hurt himself. Hence, I had maintained my original notion of his treatment, until he revealed otherwise.
That night I had a horrendous nightmare that had included Mr. Caldwell. In my nightmare, I saw him seated on the floor of his room, listening to his classical music on the phonograph, when suddenly the music had altered into a voice that commanded in a foreign language that he fully understood. The nightmare had lasted for approximately 20 minutes or so in continuation, until I awoke with a heavy perspiration running down my face. I was shaken by the incident that I thought of Mr. Caldwell and had an intuitive sense that whatever I had dreamed was directly linked to him. The question was what was that incomprehensible connection? I tried to not be affected by his insanity, but I was involuntarily disposed to search for the answers to my inquiry, at whatever option afforded to me as his psychiatrist. Before I finally slept that night, I had read an excerpt from a favorite American colonial physician, I had admired as a university student. The book was called “Medical Inquiries and Observations Upon the Diseases of the Mind,” by Benjamin Rush that mentioned the necessity to make a careful distinction, between a return of reason and a certain form of deception used by the patient. Rush also stated in his book that madness that derived from emotions of the mind, such as terror was more facile to cure than when it arises from genuine passion emoted. I was uncertain of how to apply this theory in the case of Mr. Caldwell, and if I had not miscalculated the extent of his disease.
I arrived late at the asylum, since I had overslept during the night. Nevertheless, when I spoke to the orderlies, there was no incident reported. Perhaps the heavy dose of medication had caused Mr. Caldwell to sleep like a child, or the music had soothed his conflicting conscience. Whatever was the specific reason, I was eager to see and speak to him anew. When I entered his room, he was sitting in his chair waiting to begin our session. I did notice that his usual insouciant look in his face was not expressed, but he had an urgency to speak to me. He requested a sheet of paper and a pencil so that he could write an important message that he wanted to share with the world and me, as he declared. At first, I did not understand his request and thus, I asked him for a prompt elucidation. He said he did not have time to explain in words, but he had a message that he had intercepted from the visitors. I allowed for him to have a pencil and paper brought to him. He then began to write on the paper, this universal message that was in accordance to his punctilious interpretation. When I saw the paper, it was written, in mathematical equations and a code of some sort. It was similar to the mathematical equations that were written previously by him on the wall of the room. None of these equations made sense to me or did the code, and when I asked him to disclose the meaning of the message, he told me that the visitors were coming tomorrow for him. I could not believe what he was telling me with his own words. This communication with him and the alien visitors was supposed to be a portentous sign of their immediate arrival. What was I to presume from this uncommon occurrence? When I asked him about the exact hour, they would be coming, he did not acknowledge the hour, except that there would be a solar eclipse the next day. I was not informed of an actual solar eclipse happening soon and the probability of that occurrence was not predicted. I asked him how he was sure of this shocking revelation and he answered by saying that he had decoded their communication. But how? He said through the device of the phonograph.
I could not fathom this manifestation and was highly skeptical of his asseveration. My mind was insisting for more proof, but then I recognized what Rush had said about the implementation of deceit by the patient. I had for a split second allowed myself to fall under his mesmeric influence. However, I quickly regained my logic and intellect to know that the visitors were not superior aliens, but figments of his perturbing and incessant imagination. Surely, the concept and beings that the patient related were fictitious, but how could I efface that indelible fixture of the visitors in his brain? Had his madness begun to consume me also, with this errant obsession I was starting to abhor?
I had finished the session after the grim realization that it was exceedingly pointless to continue with my inquiry. Consequently, I returned to my office with the uncertainty of whether or not, Mr. Caldwell's mind would ever regain a day of normalcy. I was prepared to assume that unfortunate possibility. Yet my commitment and profession would not preclude that unethical affirmation. I could not permit myself to abandon Mr. Caldwell, in spite of his spiraling world of alien entities. There was this eerie sensation I was experiencing with him and I was intrigued by these mathematical equations and code he had deduced. I was not proficient in physics or codes, but I thought of my friend Theodore Hutchinson. He could help me unveil the enigma of the visitors. I knew he was a physics teacher at the university. I had given the copy of the equations to one of the orderlies and sent him to the university, so that Professor Hutchison could examine them efficaciously.
That same evening before I left the asylum, I had received the correspondence from Professor Hutchinson and I was surprised by what he had interpreted. His translation had concluded that the message was full of mathematical equations denoting how to return to the future and travel to the past. The code was written in Morse code and mentioned the voyage from a planet called Telluria in the cosmos by a selected race of beings called the Tellurians, who inhabit our planet some five hundred years in the future. Supposedly, they had been oppressed by a race called the Hordians. It seemed implausible to reconcile the future of the earth to these supernatural beings. Was the professor mistaken in his interpretation or was this something conceivable to explain with words.
I still did not know how this was all connected to Mr. Caldwell's intolerable imprisonment and his soldiering in the war? How could I process this information, with ratiocination that justified this anomaly? I had to speak to Mr. Caldwell, but not before I telephoned Professor Hutchinson, about my urgent need to see him in person. He had agreed to meet me at his residence. I told him that I would be there within the hour. I was fortunate that his home was nearby the asylum and that he had time to accommodate my visit. As for the patient, he was in his room listening to his music.
When I had arrived at the professor's house, he was waiting for me. I asked him to expound on his interpretation, and we started to have a fascinating conversation. He repeated what he had stated in the letter and then defined Telluria as Earth and the Tellurians as Earthlings. Telluria was an old derivative Latin word for earth. The definition was obsolete and practically not in much usage. But I wanted to know if it was even possible that time travel could occur in particular, with the current theories of the 20th century. He had affirmed that there was no concrete feasibility, except the creation of a modern phenomenon that initiated a chain reaction in the cosmos, such as a vortex. He asked me who wrote the coded message and the mathematical equations and I thought it was better to not divulge that information openly. I thanked him for the translation and transliteration.
I had afterward returned to the asylum, when it was night time. I was usually at home by that time, but I was unease with this recent ordeal. Thus, I went to talk to Mr. Caldwell again, about this insoluble matter of the coded message. He was seated on the floor hearing his music, when I entered. I had stopped the phonograph from playing and told him that I needed to know more about the visitors. I had the horrid premonition that the patient was going to make a disclosure that would stupefy me. And indeed he did, with an amazing confession. Mr. Caldwell had acclaimed that he was a time traveler from the future. Apparently, he was from our future earth of the 25th century. He came in a vessel that had landed in Germany and was captured by the Germans. His real name was Octavius, and he was a soldier of the Tellurian Federation. He had escaped the Hordians, by retreating into the Earth's past. He was eventually freed by American soldiers, but he had assumed the identity of Maxwell Caldwell, who was in the cell beside him. The more that he spoke, the more he seemed sane. His whole story was a startling revelation to accredit to any semblance of logic. How could I truly believe his incredible version of time travel? I told him to show me how he understood the communication of the Hordians, through the device of the phonograph. He could not reveal that information, since the Hordians would know and it would endanger my safety or anyone else who knew. I could compel him with shock treatments, but I was not of the reliable persuasion of its effectiveness. I had decided to do nothing, and I made the conscious decision that he was mad and not I. I could not allow his influence to wield absolute control of my mind anymore.
I left him and told the orderly to supervise him for the night. I was exhausted and required rest. I stayed in the office and reposed on a couch I had installed near my desk. It was around midnight when I heard commotion outside in the corridor. One of the orderlies had informed me that it had been stirred by Mr. Caldwell. I headed toward his room, and the orderly was trying to calm the patient, who was in a heightened anxiety and transfixed with unnameable terror. He had to be restrained in a straitjacket and sedated. But even that did not seem at first, to hush him. He kept on repeating, the visitors were coming for him, and that tomorrow they would arrive to take him back to the future, as their prisoner. He pleaded desperately that I should release him from the asylum at once. The heavy dose of medication then caused him to succumb to its soporific effects. There was nothing else that could have been done to dissuade his intense hysteria. Thereafter, we departed the patient's room, and I discussed with the orderlies how to approach him, if he gradually regained his awareness. I knew the dose applied would keep him sleeping during the remainder of the night. I returned to the office and slept that night, unaware of the unbelievable event that took place that following morning.
At precisely 8:30 in the morning of November 24, 1945, I was awakened to discover that a solar eclipse had transpired. The moon began to cover the Sun’s disk and there was a crescent darkness that had formed in the sky above the asylum. I was confused with was happening, but then I immediately thought of Mr. Caldwell. I scurried out of my office and headed through the corridor to the patient's room. The orderly who had been outside of the door had not noticed or heard anything unusual coming from within the room. When the door had been opened, Mr. Caldwell was not inside the room. I asked the orderly, where was the patient? How did he escape? I demanded an explanation from him, but he could not explicate the absence of the patient. I asked if any other orderly had been watching the patient and he had confirmed that he was the only one present. This was unacceptable, and someone had to be responsible for the patient's absence. It could not be permitted. We had looked in every place within the asylum upstairs and downstairs and the patient was nowhere to be located. The only vestige of his existence that was discovered was the old phonograph, the numerous mathematical equations left behind on different walls of the room and a bizarre gadget that was foreign in structure. These significant intimations were all the evidence of the patient known as Mr. Caldwell. I took the phonograph with me back to the office, and began to play the last cylinder that had been used. Instead of a recording from one of the familiar compositors of classical music, I heard the audible voice of the patient communicating with an unspecified individual. I listened attentively to the sound transmitted on the surface of the cylinders. I do not know if by acknowledging this recording, I am a virtual accomplice to the sequence that had resulted afterwards. The following contents contain the actual words expressed in the recording made by the patient.
“Mayday, mayday. My name is Octavius and I am a Tellurian by birth. I was stranded in the past of Telluria. My current location is the Dexter Asylum in the extinct city and state called Providence, Rhode Island. I am sending you my latitude and longitude coordinates, so that you can rescue me. The Hordians have found me. I fear I shall not be able to escape them and be taken back as a prisoner in the future.”
“Octavius, I am Quirinus from the Tellurian Federation. We are in unfortunately not in the general vicinity, but we shall attempt to send a rescue ship to save you from the Hordians. But you must be patient, for we are being attacked at every side and the great city is about to fall under this attack. Be patient! I repeat be patient!”
“I cannot endure any longer Quirinus. I perceive their presence. Good God, they are here! They are here!”
“Octavius the city is crumbling! We are doomed! The Hordians have destroyed our city!”
A loud reverberation was heard in the background that sounded like a massive explosion. This was all that I could understand of the brief recording. Something had cut off the communication, between my patient and the individual known as Quirinus. I shall only make the asseveration that these events that occurred in the asylum with the patient had exceeded any reasonable explanation that was solely adventitious in nature. I cannot justify what happened to the patient was real or not, but I can attest that whoever that man was, he did not belong to this world. Whether he was insane or not, that I can only make the assertion, since his stay at the asylum was temporary. I had received a week after the confounding disappearance of Mr. Caldwell, a new patient who had been brought to the Dexter Asylum. When I greeted the patient at the front door, I was handed the report of the patient, and on the top part of the report was the name of Maxwell Caldwell. If this man was really the original patient, then who was Octavius the visitor from beyond?