From International Viewpoints (IVy) Issue 6 - May 1992

The Higher Plane
By John Dorne, Danmark

The room was rather dark and a little stuffy, and the people in it
felt the thrill of expectation. Palms were on the table, fingers
touching fingers of adjacent hands

A man was sitting in a corner, a mere observer. Two women were sitting
at the round table with a solemn-looking, elderly gentleman, who was
performing the invoking ritual

"If you are there", he chanted, "give us a sign".

The voice echoed away, hounded off by the almost palpable silence
seeping into the room.

Then, all of a sudden the table tilted violently, virtually raising
one of the women up from the chair, the two others desperately trying
to hold it down. After a moment it settled back onto the floor,
leaving the "uplifted" woman gasping in the chair.

"If you can speak", chanted the man, "Tell us: are you the spirit of
Xavier, the late husband of this present lady, Sannagyn?".

A deep, horrible, hollow voice spoke as if from a chamber with walls
of solid rock, "I am".

The woman who had remained grounded, looked furtively at the man.
"It's him", she said. "I recognize his voice".

The man nodded, turned his full attention to the voice, and loudly
said, "I command you, Xavier, to manifest yourself to our eyes!".

A yellow dot, faintly luminous, appeared over the centre of the table.
From it a faint sheen expanded, turning into a yellow fog that seemed
to waft, as if moved by a breeze. Then it became more solid, finally
taking the form of the chest and head of a man, totally real-looking,
but hovering about a foot over the table top.

The woman who had spoken emitted a little scream and bent down her
head, crying. Then she looked up on the face of the apparition.

"It really is you" she said, dazed. The face in the air said nothing,
just smiled lovingly to her.

"Yes. Of course it is. Oh Xavier, please! Tell me, are you all right?
How is it to be dead?"

The spectre cleared its throat, or whatever served it as a speaking
organ, still smiling.

"Well", it said, still in a hollow voice, and yet benevolently, "in
the first place, 'dead' is not really a good description. I personally
prefer 'Translated' since obviously I have just been translated to
another plane. Do I look dead to you?"

The woman looked, a little uncertain, towards his waist, below which
there was nothing except air and table.

"Well, there does appear to be some differences between you and the
living persons I know." she said timidly.

Flustered, the gost looked quickly down itself.

"Sorry, I forgot, dear." it said "Just a moment". The body started
completing. First the hips, then thighs, the rest of the legs, the
feet and ... ".

"There", said Xavier complacently, completely oblivious to the fact
that he was standing in the middle of the table.

"Anyway, I can assure you that on the plane, where I do now exist, I
am considered to be fully alive. They call me by my real name, which
is Richard. And I am very well - though at times I do miss you".

"Fear not for your translation, which may come soon, for this is a
wonderful place to be, and we shall be able to be together again - not
just in short moments like this, but all the time.

Alas, other beings of this plane are trying to get my attention. They
are demanding my presence - waking me up, as they call it. Goodbye,
Sannagyn. I must leave you for now".

"Before you leave", the man shouted urgently, "tell us: What is the
name of the place you live, and where is it?"

The apparition was getting flimsier, the voice was waning, and it
sounded sleepy.

"I am in a place named London, England, on planet Earth. It is on a
plane called the Physical Universe. Goodbye for now".

The spectre had left. The room was dark, and for a while there was
silence, except for sighs dissipating tension.

Then the wife of Xavier, now Richard from some place with an
outlandish sounding name, looked up.

"He's gone", she said dejectedly. "And there were so many things I
wanted to speak to him about, to ask him. Oh, I miss him, too".

Slowly, the observer in the corner got to his feet. He walked over to
her and put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder.

"We feel with you, Sannagyn. You have been very brave to come here and
be part of this experiment. However, grieve not too much, for your
husband is well, and you shall see him again in - ah - London on the
Physical Plane.

"And your hardships to-night have, from another viewpoint, also not
been in vain. I take it you have no doubts that this image of your
late husband was genuine - that it was not some trickery made up to
deceive us?"

Outraged, she looked at him and said, vehemently, "Indeed not. How
could they know what he looked like, how he spoke, the way he would
look at me, how ..."

"No-no", he said, soothingly. "Of course not. But you know, I had to
ask. As for myself, I am completely satisfied".

He cheered up, glowed, actually.

"And I shall write an article about this, demonstrating to everybody,
no matter how dense, that there is indeed a higher reality - this
Physical Plane, this Earth - where people are happy, and know about
our destinies.

"Xavier - I mean Richard, since apparently that's his real name - knew
you would join him soon. Translate, that is.

"Oh, yes. Surely we shall be able to learn a lot from them. Things
that will enable us to rise above everyday life here on the ordinary
astral plane".

"That would be wonderful", she beamed. "If that could happen, I would
feel I had accomplished something worthwhile. That would fully
compensate for my sufferings".

The man who had performed the ritual had gotten out a bottle and four
glasses. He now spoke.

"The outcome of the session was really extraordinarily good. I think a
toast is in place.

"But tell me", he continued a little worried, addressing the observer,
"do you really think 'The Chrystal Palace Herald' will accept your
article. Will they not consider it too controversial - or even

"They may", he chuckled, "but after all, I am their star reporter. If
I insist, they won't dare refuse my article.

"Believe me, soon the inhabitants of the astral plane, where we live,
shall put their attention on a higher and more worthy reality"

He lifted his glass, and so did the others, the four of them all of a
sudden very solemn.

"Ladies, Sir. May I propose a toast - to Earth"...