Tomy and the Planet of Lies by Erich von Daniken

Author:Erich von Daniken
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)
Publisher: Tantor eBooks
Published: 2012-11-01T13:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

…And There Was Light!

It was our last night in the Suvretta House Hotel and we had decided to give the alcohol a rest. Marc and I were sipping mineral water in the elegant dining room. In this room the tradition that the chefs de rang wore black and the trainees white still held sway. Their light steps made not the slightest noise as they crossed the light-blue wall-to-wall carpet. Candles flickered everywhere and chandeliers cast a subdued light down on the room. All that could be heard of the other guests was a muted murmur-murmur. The meals—the menu didn’t change daily, but they were never the same twice—weren’t simply carried out, but borne to your table by a whole team. It was a culinary celebration. In this restaurant dinner was a delight, a show, even. The whole thing was accompanied by gentle piano music, pleasant tunes from all over the world.

“Tomy took you over back there in the Sheraton in Ankara,” Marc’s voice was almost breathless with anticipation, “but you’ve never spoken about it. Come on, tell me what happened.”

“I can’t,” I stated matter-of-factly.

“Can’t, or won’t?”

“Oh, I want to all right, but I can’t really find the words.”

“But you’re an author! People like you have learnt how to describe stuff!”

I nodded. “That’s true. But not the indescribable.”

Marc’s curiosity was too much for him to let the matter lie. He pressed and pressed, wheedled and begged and finally began to mock:

“Did you have sex with each other?” he asked.

“Ach! Rubbish!” I shot back at him. “I’ve never been gay and Tomy wasn’t either.” And then I relaxed and joked: “Or do you think I’d do it with my own brother? Come on!”

“Why are you being so secretive then? After all, Tomy took me over, too. I told you all about it,” Marc said.

Thank God we hadn’t drunk any alcohol. I started trying to sort out my memories of that evening, to transport myself back to that night in the Sheraton in Ankara, as Marc and Chantal had given in to their all-too-human instincts and Tomy and I had sat opposite each other in those heavy leather armchairs. Tomy had had that enigmatic smile on his lips as he asked me if I still wanted to go ahead with the takeover. When I nodded my assent, he said that it would be fine for me to stay sitting in my chair, but it would be better for him to lie down, so his body didn’t tip over while he was out of it. What happened next was—in the true sense of the word—indescribable. And even though I attempted it, it was, at best, merely using the crutch of language, hollow words that could never come close to approaching those feelings; with a crippled understanding that seems wounded to me. I was attempting to put something into words that was so far beyond words, something that remains incomprehensible, even now though I constantly try to retrieve it from my memories. Normal reason is powerless to comprehend what happened to my consciousness while Tomy took me over.

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