‘The ecstasy is consuming. There’s nothing you desire more than the annihilation of that last speck of concentration holding consciousness together. And though I obviously can’t know for sure, it’s my strongest intuition that if you succumb to ecstasy and fail to reclaim your concentration, your center, you’ll vanish forever. Just as the terror is experienced as falling, the ecstasy is experienced as rising, soaring – but unchecked, it’s the same as falling. So watch for that moment when clarity swerves toward the ecstatic. Catch yourself and return as soon as possible. I mean immediately. The further you soar, the further you fall.’
Volta quit speaking but continued to pace. Daniel, who had been wired to every word, opened his eyes when Volta passed behind him. The room seemed much brighter. He wondered if there was a skylight. He glanced up. There was a skylight, but it wasn’t much – a small panel of corrugated plastic, clotted with detritus from the surrounding trees. The amphetamine made his jaws ache and his mind race; he wanted to babble hundreds of questions. It took an effort to maintain his silence.
Volta stopped directly in front of him, put his hands behind his back, and continued. ‘It is impossible to overestimate the power and glory of that ecstatic leap, but if you surrender to it, I believe you’ll be consumed. I repeat:
Volta smiled thinly. ‘The reason I’m repeating myself is not simply to stress its importance, but to forestall having to explain how you escape ecstasy and return to the visible. I’ll tell you how I did it, but I also must tell you that while I feel
‘Now before I tell you how I returned, let me refresh the principle, which I’m sure you’re familiar with. The principle is contained in an ancient alchemical forge-chant, which Wild Bill refers to as “that ol’ cornball Babylonian mantra.”
Daniel agreed with Wild Bill’s aesthetic assessment. He almost shook his head in dismay.
‘I feared you’d share William’s antipathy for civilized wisdom, but surely you understand that cliches endure because they’re repeated, and they’re repeated because they’ve proven accurate. But I won’t pursue it.
‘Here’s what I did to escape the ecstasy and return. I imagined a mirror. I held the image of the mirror ferociously in mind until I could see my face within it. And then I smashed the mirror. The return was immediate and wrenching, and the further I’d sailed, the worse it was – almost in direct proportion.
‘When you return, you feel distant from your body, weak, witless, disoriented. It passes quickly, but you’re exceptionally vulnerable to poor judgment, physical miscues, and general fuckups while you’re reintegrating. Be careful.
‘Basically, then, vanishing first of all involves a feeling of terror as you fall, then a brief and serene lucidity, which in turn opens into a soaring ecstasy. All three states of the transformation have their dangers, and your only defense is consciousness and concentration. Nothing really changes except form into formlessness, flesh into air. If you’re thirsty when you’re visible, you’ll be thirsty when you vanish. Again: consciousness and concentration. You must work from the center of yourself. Use it to stop the fall. Sustain the clarity. Salvage yourself from ecstasy. Dilute the melancholy that invariably accompanies returning.
‘The longest I was able to sustain invisibility was sixteen minutes, and I almost didn’t make it back. Ecstasy doesn’t encourage concentration. I have no idea if it’s possible to sustain it longer, but I wouldn’t try it for over ten minutes if I were you.
‘I’ve told you what I can, but there are things I haven’t told you. Some I haven’t told you because you must discover them for yourself. There are things I haven’t told you whose omission may seem cruel as the work unfolds, but it would be wise to withhold judgment until we’re done; appearances and disappearances are equally deceptive. There are also things I haven’t told you because I don’t know them.
‘That’s not all I haven’t told you, but I will tell you this, with my honor behind it: Nothing you’ll be instructed to do is dangerous, up to the point of vanishing. Difficult, exacting, perhaps painful – yes. But not dangerous. Vanishing
Volta looked in Daniel’s eyes to be sure the point was clear. ‘So, we begin. Your instructions today are simple, derived from an ancient exercise that I’m sure you’re familiar with. I want you to acknowledge,
‘I met a Chinese magician in Tangiers years ago. His name was Fang Chu, and he was the best fire eater I’ve ever seen. He claimed the “acknowledge without response” meditation is the only one you really needed to understand magic. Fang Chu had this wonderful smile and not much English, though more than my Chinese. Whenever we talked about the meditation he would grin hugely and say, “O yes! And so easy!” Then he would turn the grin up a notch and open his hands like this’ – Volta grinned and opened his hands and then, imitating Fang Chu’s sharp nasality, said, ‘“Not’ing to it, as your cowboy say.”’
Volta held the pose a moment, still grinning. In his own voice he said, ‘So cowboy, nothing to it. Ride straight on through. There will be further instructions in the morning. Oh yes, and I almost forgot: No one knows what we’re attempting here, and I believe it should remain that way. Until I say differently, this is
Volta waited. When Daniel had remained silent for almost a minute, Volta squeezed his shoulder. ‘I wish you the three things you will definitely need: strength, grace, and luck.’ He crossed to the door, closing it softly behind him.
Daniel leapt to his feet. The room was cold enough that he could see wisps of his breath. There was no sign of a heater or fireplace, nor could he find any lamps. The murky skylight was the only source of illumination. Its bright rectangle of light was beginning to lengthen on the bare western wall. The light did little to take off the chill. Daniel
