A Treatise (of Extraordinary Gravity) By Yvuri Mösknvorr, MWP* (The following account originally appeared in The Journal of Psychotraumatic and Paranormal Phenomena, 13 June 1864. Academy of Neuroscientifical Research; St. Petersburg, Russia.)

The occurrence I am about to relate began with my witnessing an astonishing spectacle in manifest defiance of nature. It was an airship, but of a most singular variety. Observed from beneath, the balloon gave the illusion of being flattened, with the carriage somehow incorporated into its peculiar design. The vessel shimmered with a queer radiance, preventing my recognition of any banners or insignia which must surely have been displayed. Navigational vanes were also obscured from view, yet the airship maneuvered quite deliberately and with uncanny deft. In the absence of docking towers, the craft hovered in midair without tether, yet immune to jostling gusts of wind. Beckoned in a manner defying recollection, I embarked via an illuminated gangway, and was surprised at the cabin's luxuriously spacious interior. (The décor, however, was decidedly harsh and in great want of provincial furnishings. Engineers and crew were similarly attired, with a conspicuous lack of civil accoutrements.) I observed through a porthole that we were underway, though I experienced none of the usual sensations of flight. Indeed, the balloon demonstrated a remarkable buoyancy; which I found most curious, as the ratio of probable mass to gaseous volume suggested an implausible balance. Yet, there was no denying our expedient and unfettered ascent through the lower stratosphere. Mesmerized, I apparently lost track of all time, for night had already fallen outside. This registered cause for concern, as infamous mishaps had well established the perils of nighttime docking. I inquired if I might speak with the Captain, and was flabbergasted to find that said officer was of feminine persuasion. (At risk of offense, I might add that she impressed upon me a disturbing vulgarity. Clad in a grotesque bodysuit of black leather, indecorously revealing in its tight fit, she wore neither jewelry nor cosmetics; and her crimson hair fell without curl about her shoulders. An officer, perhaps; but one whom could hardly be esteemed a lady.) In response to my query, she named our destination as the moon, and declared that we should arrive in a matter of minutes! I enjoyed mild amusement at her preposterous assertion, but grew licitly irritated when she dismissed my request to speak with a proper navigator. Spurred by (and furthering) my trepidation, she decreed that I be held in irons for the balance of our voyage. In a most astonishing sensation, my will was immediately enslaved, sans lock and key to my physical being. (Though not learned in these matters, I expect this to have been a demonstration of hypnotic trance induced upon my consciousness.) Given the nature of my impairment, I cannot attest with confidence as to its duration, though I am inclined to ascribe several minutes to this unfortunate state. Upon restoration of liberty, I moved to disembark without delay; but was confronted at the portal with a most astonishing discovery. I had unwittingly been transported into a vast subterranean cavern of prodigious stalagmites and stalactites! The airship had maneuvered into a colossal hollow of glistering rock, discernible only through the illumination of lanterns arrayed behind powerful magnification lenses. For reasons unbeknownst, I was admonished to attempt only the slightest of steps upon exiting the carriage; yet the prudence of heeding this mandate became evident forthwith. As my boot imprinted the foreign soil, my physical being enjoyed a queer buoyancy, as if a great weight had been lifted! Immediately, I was bestowed with a tenfold increase in vigor, allowing for great strides under minimal exertion. So entranced was I by this strange phenomenon, that I deferred voicing to our Captain a well-formulated protest regarding my brazen abduction. Without pause, we were collected by a small flatbed tramcar (that hovered with neither wheel nor rail), and whisked into the labyrinth of tunnels carved into the rock. Although giddy over this increasingly curious onslaught of spectacles and sensations, I managed the capacity to inquire as to our whereabouts. In disclosing the explanation I received, I concede unequivocal justification in my being deemed a lunatic; for whether I was under the power of the moon's rays, or justified in the assertion that follows, the classification is inexorably apropos. Notwithstanding the gross implausibilities conferred by nature, I purport that our Captain had successfully navigated the ether and delivered us soundly to these sublime caverns a mile beneath the lunar surface! Fantastic as this may be, it fails to approach the scope of the unfathomably devious scheme for which I had been conscripted. The hover-platform finally anchored deep in one of the innumerable stone burrows. Here, I observed scores of naked women in most curious bondage. The enslaved ladies wore leather collars and chains, and were secured in cages precluding an erect posture. These pens were stacked one atop the other as far as the eye could discern, with the immured females cataloged per corporeal attributes. Men enthralled by the most demented of perversions could not envision a more peculiar grotto of horrors. Our learned Captain referred to these women as "klones," and pronounced that each specimen had been miraculously duplicated from an incognizant, autonomous counterpart on the Earth. In my presence, one of the ladies was liberated from her cell and forced to assume the position most suitable for intercourse. (The coercion of which I refer was not physical in nature; rather, I imagine her a victim of hypnotic mesmerization similar to my subjection during passage.) It was kindly suggested that I engage the young woman's service in order to satisfy myself. Naturally, I was obliged to decline, citing the gentlemanly honor to which I remain civilly bound. Our Captain grew incensed at my steadfast demurring, and decreed that copulation proceed without pause. Baring her termagant nature, she threatened ingeniously brutal means of persuasion. Under pain of flogging (via a sadistic rod which dispensed bolts of lightning), my complicity was finally extorted. Perturbing as it may be, I relate that the maiden, positioned as she was, enticed me sufficiently to perform the gruesome task. Imagine my degradation, however, when a second drone was secured for my attention! I sought evasion through impairment (amply justified given the particulars), but our Captain rejuvenated my potency by dispensing a hypodermic in the region of my groin. The effect of said injection was most shameful; and would have proven a delightful remedy, had it not pilfered apt sensation. I bear only paltry recollection of the tribulations that followed, for the heinous marathon depleted my memory along with my essence. Howbeit, the succession must have been impressive; for despite the buoyancy of my frame, the cruel ordeal left me unable to support my own weight. A brief coma ensued, from which I awakened to find myself back onboard the airship, restrained with leather thongs on a velvet couch. At this juncture, I could no longer refrain from voicing umbrage at my handling. Expatriation from terra firma is a clear defilement of nature; but I exhorted without mitigation that violation of my own liberty compared not with those of young women's chastity, and demanded to know under whose sanction these deeds were consummated. Our vile Captain feigned offense when confronted, and insisted that no such occurrences had transpired! She maintained that a gust of wind had jostled the balloon, and my cranium had evidentially rapped a steel girder. While out cold, prolonged turbulence necessitated my immobilization on the lounge to forestall further injury. She offered a chalice of nourishment, intended to restore the electrical imbalance incurred by flight. Though suspicious, I partook of the blue liquid, and my fog began to ebb forthwith. The Captain monitored my progress, while assuring me that breaching the confines of dense air was a nonsensical proposition; navigational impossibilities aside, the proximity of lunar rays would surely impair psychical balance. Indeed, I grant that good sense and scientific dogma corroborate her argument, in absolute contrast to the perspective I had independently derived; and, though plagued by a disconcerting sensation elsewhere on my person, the tremendous throbbing of my skull was of a manner harmonious with concussion. My equilibrium all but restored, and bestowed with the fair Captain's accord, I moved to disembark from the airship and bring to a halt this fantastical adventure. The balloon readily maneuvered to the location of my original departure and hovered with utmost stability. Farewells bid, I was encased in a large glass cylinder within the carriage, then lowered back to the soil with neither winch nor cordage inside a brilliant shaft of luster. To behold the magnificent vessel in parting was less than feasible however; for in the brief moment required to look back, the craft had already vacated observable sky. Thus my fortuitous exploit of wonder would have concluded, save the vexing detail that follows. Our vague Captain declared that the whole excursion would seem to have occurred in the blink of an eye; yet, upon examination of independent timepieces, I deduced that I had been gone for nearly three minutes! In light of this manifest discrepancy, I am deeply perturbed, and proclaim the entire episode devoid of fancy. Hence, despite the civil humility, I esteem it a matter of gentlemanly honor to seek out each and every drone with which I reciprocated personal exchange, and fulfill my virile duty of ensuring her continued well-being.

Contact: beatvibe@earthlink.net * Yvuri Mösknvorr is Marc Weber's Pseudonym (MWP). Copyright © 1999-2002, Marc Weber. All rights reserved. URL:  http://home.earthlink.net/~beatvibe/scientifica/treatise.htm Homepage URL:  http://home.earthlink.net/~beatvibe/index.htm