In the last installment, the late sci-fi author Jules Verne shares highlights of his afterlife adventure—spending years in a lavish Indian temple decked with jalis in the lush valley along the River of Eternity…

A jali is a pierced panel. Jalis were used extensively in temples in India as decorative windows and dividers on terraces and balconies… to reduce glare, to allow air circulation, and to dapple a room with beautiful patterns on sunny days. These jalis appear in the ITC picture of Jules Verne’s spirit-world home, a temple in an astral village called Kwapore.

… where one day he meets a vagabond named Arthur Moos, a handsome, contemplative man who visits the temple during his wanderings through the valley while trying to escape a troubled past. Arthur tells the famous author about his short collaboration with the ITC project of spirit group Timestream. Arthur’s attempts to contact his wife, still on Earth, went awry, and Arthur left the ITC project embarrassed. Hence his wanderings. While the discussion stirred the imagination of Jules Verne (who later would leave on a hot-air balloon adventure to find Timestream), Arthur Moos apparently resumed his aimless travels through the third level, or mid-astral planes.

The troubles of Arthur Moos had begun before his encounter with Timestream, however, tracing back to his violent death in World War II. His story, delivered to Luxembourg researchers Maggy and Jules Harsch-Fischbach as a computer file in the summer of 1997, tells of his long, lonely years lost in darkness before Timestream found him and invited him to become involved in ITC:

Today, almost fifty years later, I still wake up at night soaked in sweat and become aware of the reality and needlessness of my death. I still see the four of us in the carriage of the farmer who gave us a ride from Kotorz (or Kachen as it was called then). We were heading for Oppeln. The birch trees to the right of the road not far from Ehrenfeld were dressed in ther first green leaves. It was April 1945 and it was a mild spring day. I see in front of me the piercing, all-consuming yellow-red flash that lifted us into the air like a fist of steel. I thought we went higher and higher and I felt like a rabbit that someone grabbed by the neck and shook up violently, only to toss down at breakneck speed to smash on the ground of this bloody, tortured and war-torn Earth.

Everything around me went deep black; only my spirit floated through a flickering dark matter. No sound could be heard and no light penetrated the darkness. I remained in this state a very long time, though I learned meanwhile that time is nonexistent here. I remember thinking that this must be life after death.

Dear Lucie, dear little Lucie. How often I thought of you then and of Helge. Today she is almost a true French girl. I often look in on her. I think she is aware of it. But then I thought this was the definite, final state in which our earthly body would remain after physical death.

All at once, I do not know how many earth years had passed, I heard a distant wonderful music. A violet iridescent light, far off, rotated like a spiral. I moved toward the Light.

You know, dear Lucie, dear little Lucie, that I was always interested in wondrous things. Sometimes, when walking along the River Alster I thought about the eternal, seemingly never-ending river of life.

Therefore, imagine when I floated into this iridescent light, and I saw before me, almost as through a somewhat distorted film, a beautiful valley with lush vegetation. Between the mountain slopes flowed a silvery river. It may sound a bit pathetic, but at that moment a flood of tears were released which I had kept back in the long, cold winter months far from home and far from you. I cried like a child for the joy of seeing such beauty once more.

Then I lost consciousness.

I don’t know how long it lasted, but when I opened my eyes I was lying in grass fresh with morning dew, right next to a hazelnut bush. The face of a friendly young man in his twenties appeared over me. He took my hand with the words, “Greetings Arthur, we were waiting for you. I am Pascal Turmes.”

This is how I arrived here on Marduk with Group Timestream almost fifty years after my bodily death.

A young woman here, a scientist by the name of Swejen Salter, has located me in the post-mortal space vacuum. She and a group of people, among them a fantastic guy and technical genius named Jean Eberhard, transferred me by means of “light modulation”. It is the opposite of “down modulation”. (I still have much to learn.) I have been here for about fourteen days and have already found so many friends, that it seems like I’ve always been here.

Dear Lucie, dear little Lucie, in a few years you shall be with me too, and we shall sit in the same  park you used to dream about. We hear beautiful music, but it shall be much more beautiful than you can imagine. You shall also be young again and healthy. We shall experience things you cannot even dream about. I will wait for you and look forward to being with you again. I love you as much as I did on the first day.

Yours, Arthur

P.S. – Please do not get upset. I write openly about everything so that the Harsch family can read it too. They are good people and honest workers in the vineyard of our Lord.

Other posts in the “Human Story” series:
1 – From the Source of All-That-Is
2 – Physical Life and Spiritual Life
3 – An Ancient Timeline
4 – The Edenites and Their Descendants
5 – The Seven Ethereals
6 – The Afterlife Eden
7 – The Afterlife of Jules Verne
8 – The Afterlife of Arthur Moos
9 – The Afterlife of Sir Richard F Burton
10 – The Afterlife of Anne de Guigné
11 – Afterlife Wrap-Up
12 – Atlantis and the First Epoch
13 – Thoth the Atlantean
14 – Modern Civilization Sprouted from Ancient Pyramids
15 – Hands that Caress and Strangle the World
16 – End of Story, End of Times