The great star ship, Sirius III, becomes lost in what seems to be a parallel
universe. It comes through the "Barrier Wall" of translight velocity, out there
beyond the Einstein equations "at the end of their astral cord from Mother
Earth." Why do no star ships ever return? Is Earth alone in the universe?
Star men have become the myth heroes of the age, the desperate Star
Quest (for other life) is a world cult. Their Earth lives and dreams have been
sacrificed to the stars, only to find that Nature wears a cosmic "chastity
belt" against the cross-contamination of cultures. Man the eternal
contaminant must first be decontaminated. How?
One star ship goes through the experience of finding the key to the Barrier.
On a parallel Earth near the dawn of time, in a near mythological setting,
the searchers experience an ancient Oracle and meet the demigod Star
Wardens, who invoke a new human transition - which is the key to
returning.
Man is his own star . . . . .
From genesis of the book:
Long ago at a writer's banquet in Beverly Hills when the first pilot of
Star Trek was being unveiled, Gene Roddenberry said kind words to me:
"Stu, I'd stand in the rain for one of your stories."
My subsequent duties
in the aerospace world intervened against such a potential for me, but now,
long years later when Gene is space-borne (his ashes were orbited) -
hopefully not to "where no man has gone before" - I can say fondly
in spirit, "Gene, here's that story!"
Boozie finally rallied. He raised his arms to the stars. "Sweet
Mother Nature!" he exclaimed. "Don't look now, but somebody
has sprung your chastity belt. Our noble breed has arrived, and
you, my Gracious Lady, have been had!".
"So what's it boil down to?" asked Danny. "There may be
humanoids out there somewhere, but what else? Satyrs?
Centaurs? Unicorns?"
Boozie smirked. "In effect, why not? You think it's way out?
That's exactly where we are, buddy. We are as way out as you
can get! Time, parallel universe, or maybe another dimension.
Don't let your packaged education get in the way. Stop being
a tree. Out here, lost in the stars, who knows what's in the
forest?"
The magic part was the absence of words. They looked at
each other, lost in a far place where everything was suddenly
"off the cuff." The "package" was gone along with the masks.
He kissed her gently and she responded repeatedly. For the
first time since he had known the formidable Dr. Frederica
Sachs, her soft white arms were around him. The endless starry
light years they had come, across the Barrier Wall... And it was
all so simple. Or was it?
If human civilization ever did break through the "chastity belt" and
come here, there would be alarm clocks in Paradise. As Boozie had
expressed it with his usual cynical smirk: "Beware the star gods, my
children!" Which, before the day was over, seemed to be prophetic.
Like a golden Pythia of the Delphic Oracle, she sat in mystic
trance on the trihedron stand above the spirit pit. She had been
bathed in energized waters from volcanic geysers, anointed
with incense oils, and had eaten of the padama-tama or vision
root. Her slender torso was wrapped in the holy white-red
wreathes of the vadya-khitam or virgin veil, and her long blond
tresses were adorned with the symbolic three-petaled blossoms
of the sacred atraya vine. Her marble white breasts were
flower-tipped symbols of innocence yet somehow unveiling the
sphinxlike mystery of the female hierophant within the
shadowed portals of revelation.
Also there beside the long-haired seated figure of Ravano was
Nolokov, standing tall and silent, staring in cabalistic
concentration at the blond prophetess on her lofty tripod over
the smouldering pit. Like a dark-eyed sorcerer, he appeared to
be willing the nascent winds of the communal psyche into
manifestation.
Probably a part of the magic had been the negative rapture of
isolation from sorrow, hurt, and ugliness. It was a finality he
accepted as irreversible, like a soul-commitment to otherdimensional
destiny. The soaring cloisters of the forest were
his troll-like sanctuary, forming a cordon sanitaire between the
predawn children and the far Babylon he had failed to cope
with. The green, gold, and purple galleries, the branching
grottos and verdured chambers of the multi-terraced jungles
with their cathedral shafts of light from flower-framed windows
in the lofty canopies above - these were the enchanted halls of
a timelorn castled city, peopled by mythical beings long lost to
racial memory, whether this was Lemuria or a parallel world in
some forgotten universe.
They walked in a word-searching silence, their hands clasped
painfully together. It was a pain of gladness, as welcome as
shining tears. The glow of wonder that touched their world
with magic was due to more than love's realization. Both of
them knew they'd never be the same after the temple
experience. This was metamorphosis, as Holy Sam had
described it. To positively know that no one was alone
anymore, that womb-to-tomb futility was an illusion and that
the cosmos was eternally and vibrantly alive with collective
consciousness and purpose Ñ this was a soaring new
perspective that made each twig or leaf a priceless wonder and
electrified the meaning of even a breath of air. It was too much
for human instinct. They held onto each other, blinded by a
vision, fearing that they would awake from a far too fragile
dream.
"Out of the cave stepped Buli, the Moal girl with the golden
brown hair and the pointed ears. One surprise was that she was
no longer blind. Her big, shining green eyes were looking right
at us out of that mythological nymph face."
"Ah!" said the swami with a note of intensity. "The great
transition on the Shadowy Arc! SheÕs an advance type, gaining
physical sight at the cost of inner vision. Her name should have
been Eve!"
"Well, she ate the apple, all right. She was all rounded out in
front, pregnant as hell."
"Pregnant? But -"
"Leave it to Jerry, Sam. With him, if itÕs not supposed to
happen, it does. The poor lonely bastard had dropped his
cookies into a fairy crock, and God knows what the offspring
would have been!"