That afternoon, I went up to the Inland Ocean Archeological and Anthropological Institute. Given the time of year, I expected Doctor Messiah to be off on a mystical summer sabbatical in some exotic, foreign place like Tibet or Transylvania. But to my surprise, I found him in. As usual, he wasn’t busy studying any of the arcane materials stored on the endless shelves which took up nearly the entire top floor of the Wardell Hotel. Instead, he was just silently sitting cross-legged on his oriental carpet, barefoot in worn flared jeans, the yin-yang symbol on the chest of his black turtleneck oddly glowing, meditating.

For the first time, I noticed his long, dark hair and beard were flecked with strands of greying hair. His skin, too, I noticed was mottled with the scars of acne from his youth, and he hadn’t been young for a very long time.

When I saw he was preoccupied, I thought about retreating and leaving him undisturbed. But he must have sensed my hesitation.

Without opening his eyes, he said, “Greetings, my student. Or should I say, former student. Congratulations on your recent graduation, Clarissa.”

“I wasn’t sure I’d find you in, Doc,” I said, again tiptoeing toward him. “I expected you’d be off on some mystical retreat for the summer.”

Because it was a hot, humid late July day, I wore only athletic shorts, a tank top, and sandals, although I shouldered a bag full of books, in case I had struck out finding Doc.

“Michele and I go up to Manitoulin Island on Lake Huron for a few weeks,” he said, matter-of-factly, still with his eyes closed. “The research stipend goes a lot farther in the Canadian woods. But that’s not until August.”

I tossed my book bag loudly onto one of the side chairs, flipped off my sandals, and took a seat on the carpet a few feet in front of him. My legs were stiff and my butthole still sore from all my anal exertions with Trent, so it took some doing to arrange myself into a reasonably comfortable position.

No doubt, the doctor sensed my discomfort. He opened one eye under an arched eyebrow and gave me a piercing, disdainful look.

“You’ve got to be careful, engaging in high-risk sexual behavior, Clarissa,” he said. “Especially while this AIDS thing is going around. Not to be judgmental, but medically speaking…it’s not advisable…even if you happen to be Ms. Megaton Man.”

“You’re tellin’ me,” I said, still fidgeting to get comfortable. “Thanks for the public health advisory. But don’t worry; I think it’s just stretched; nothing torn.”

That was more than Doctor Messiah wanted to know. He closed his eye again and fell silent for several moments. I sat and watched him.

After several moments, he took a deep breath, and opened his eyes again. Slightly perturbed that I was still there, he said diffidently, “I don’t suppose you’re visiting to use the library this time. So, how may I help you, Clarissa?”

“Doc, I have something specific I wanted to ask you…something that I want you to teach me.”

“Of course, any knowledge for which you are ready I will be happy to share with you.”

“That’s just it—I’m not sure I am ready,” I said. “But still, I want to learn. You see, for a while, thanks to my Ms. Megaton Man visor, I’ve been able to see other dimensions. You know—phantom images of things that are there but aren’t tangible, because they exist in another reality, a dimension away. You know what I mean?”

“Yes, I’m acquainted with the phenomenon,” he said. “Go on.”

“Also, I’ve been able to visit other realities, by means of technology like the Dimensional Portal. And I know lots of other people, for example, who’ve used the Time Turntable…”

“Can you get to the point, please?” asked Doctor Messiah, impatiently.

“I want to learn to do what you do, Doc…I want to learn your method for visiting alternate realities. You know…without all the high-tech gadgets and such.”

“And what would that method be?”

“I don’t know the technical term for it,” I confessed. “In weird stories, it’s…whaddyacall, astral projection…the ability to visit other realities just by using one’s mind.”

He was silent for a long time; he took several long breaths.

Finally, he asked, “And what makes you think I have any knowledge of this mystic art?”

“Because I’ve seen you use it,” I said. “And I’ve seen Michele do it, too.”

It was true; the first time I’d visited the Inland Ocean Archeological and Anthropological Institute, I’d seen the room turn into a dark, mystical womb and Doc himself turn into a Cosmic Christ Baby, and his teaching assistant Michele Selket turn into some golden Egyptian deity.

Doc considered this in silence for many moments.

“Clarissa, what you may have witnessed would certainly qualify a supernatural phenomenon. But what you are seeking to be able to do yourself is of an entirely different order of mystical power. May I ask why the sudden interest in such esoteric skills?”

“It isn’t all that sudden,” I said. “I’ve been interested in alternate realities for some time—been aware of them, actually traveled to them—well, at least one. I visited a possible future—although it’s no longer my possible future, since I visited it. Now it’s just another possible future in an alternate reality. But in any case…”

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Doctor Messiah put up a hand. “Let me stop you right there. You realize you’re already America’s Nuclear-Powered Hero…” he said. “Customarily, megaheroes do, shall we say, megaheroic things. They fly around in capes. They lift massively heavy objects. They brawl with megavillains…”

“Yeah, I know…the whole ‘faster-than-shit-through-a-goose’ routine. You’re telling me I should just stay in my lane.”

“I’m simply saying that, ordinarily, supernatural phenomena is reserved for more retiring folks like me, who aren’t able to do all the extraordinary physical things you megapowered folks can. I mean, if you primary-colored costumed characters were to start doing magical things, it would put all us spooky spiritualist-magician-hierophant characters out of business. Who’d need us?”

“That’s not a good reason,” I said. “I have a retiring, spiritual side, too. I’ve already glimpsed these realities through artificial means; I want to develop the ability to do so naturally, as it were.”

“Let me guess,” he said. “You have convinced yourself that such abilities are latent in all human beings and only need to be brought out, developed. And to a certain extent, this is true. But like any gift, the ability to traverse realities solely with the Geist”—he seemed intentionally to use the German word for mind-spirit—“is not given to every human in equal measure.”

“Look, Doc, if you’d rather not teach me these otherworldly arts…”

“Hold on,” said Doctor Messiah.

***

He closed his eyes and he sat motionless for several minutes. He was gone for so long I thought he’d gone to sleep and completely forgotten about me. I was about to pick up my belongings and leave when his eyelids sprung open again.

“I just checked with my union,” he said, smiling at his own joke. “We’re cool. I also checked with the department; since you’re no longer my transfer student, having graduated from Arbor State University, and since you’re not officially a graduate student at Warren Woodward University until September, the non-fraternization policy doesn’t apply. I also had to check with Michele; you know how some chicks are. Luckily, she doesn’t find you threatening.”

I didn’t quite know how to take that.

He shut his eyes again and extended his arms outward from his sides, making that index-and-pinky-finger gesture with his hands. He slowly waved toward the perimeter of the room.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

Doctor Messiah opened one eye. “First, we have to seal off this space,” he explained “While an astral traveler is gone from her body, she must be confident that it has been left behind in a safe, secure space.”

My pulse raced. “You mean, you’re really going to show me how to travel across time, space, and realities by leaving my physical body?” I said.

“Oh, no,” said Doctor Messiah. “I’m not going to teach you anything—at least not for a while. First, you will accompany me on an astral journey; I will serve as your guide. It is customary for the master first to take an initiate on a guided tour—a field trip, so to speak—but to be by there side at all times as their protector. Then, if you like it…somewhere down the road, I may teach you how to do it yourself…maybe.”

“Whoa,” I said. “I wasn’t sure I’d be able to convince you. This is a pretty big deal.”

“Do you wish to make the journey or not?” said Doctor Messiah.

“Yes, I’m ready,” I replied.

“Then, compose yourself. Put your mind into Oneness with the Cosmos.”

“Oowee, this is exciting!” I said. “So, where are we going to go?”

Doctor Messiah raised a diffident eyebrow. “Where would you like to go?” he asked.

“Gee, I don’t know,” I said. “I guess I just want to know how all these Multimensions work. I want to get a feel for it, y’know?”

Now Doc frowned. He glared at me, and both eyebrows arched at me.

“That’s the other problem,” he said. “Customarily, there is some motive for crossing the Great Divide. Usually, one has lost someone or something…one is called to the Great Adventure. Usually it’s not to ‘get a feel for how the Multimensions work.’”

“Fair enough,” I said. “Let me think of something. I know I have a good reason.”

My eyes fell on the blue opal in my class ring. Then, it came to me.

“Doctor Messiah,” I said. “Lately, I’ve wanted to see what my life would be like if I wasn’t Ms. Megaton Man, if I’d never been Ms. Megaton Man at all, you know? If I didn’t have megapowers, if I wasn’t America’s Nuclear-Powered Hero…if all my friends weren’t megaheroes and disparate realities weren’t fusing together all around me. Like, what would my life have been like if I’d just gone off to Arbor State and gone to college and just been a human being. I want to see if being Ms. Megaton Man is really my real destiny.”

“And what if it is not?” asked Doc.

“Then, maybe I can just be civilian.”

“I see,” said Doc. “You want the complete opposite of an adventure. You want reality.” He closed his eyes and stroked his beard. “Very well; I think that can be arranged.”

“Wait a minute,” I said. “Will I be gone long?”

“You’ll be back by tomorrow morning, at the latest,” said Doc confidently. “But although you may be gone from your physical body for only a short time, you may spend a much longer period on your visit elsewhere. You may come back with years of experience, although you won’t have aged a day.”

“Wait,” I said, reaching to pull off my class ring. “Maybe I should leave this here. My Dad gave it to me…I don’t want to lose it.”

“Keep it on,” said Doc. “You may be needing that.”

I kept it on.

I watched Doc, who had closed his eyes again. He put his index fingers and thumbs together and rested his hands supinely on his knees. I imagined him going through his Rolodex of alternate, mystical dimensions.

Finally, he said, “I think I have it.”

He opened his eyes again.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” he said.

I imitated his gesture, putting my index fingers and thumbs together and resting my hands palm-side up on my knees.

“No, not that,” he said. “We’re already there.”

He rose to his feet with the serpentine motion I had seen him affect so many times before. He reached down to me. I took his hand; he pulled me up to my feet.

“What do you mean?” I asked. “Isn’t the room going to spin? Isn’t time and space going to swirl around? Aren’t you going to light some incense, at least?”

“No need.” He led me away from carpet.

“Wait, won’t I need my book bag? I packed my Ms. Megaton Man uniform…”

“It won’t help you here,” he said. “Although you may want to grab your sandals. Me, I’m always more comfortable barefoot.”

I grabbed my sandals from where I had kicked them off and went over and sat on a side chair to put them on. After, I stood up.

Standing in front of me was Doctor Messiah, plain as day. But behind him, still sitting on the oriental rug, were he and I—kind of frozen, as if in a trance.

I felt my body with my hands, patting my torso and thighs through my shorts and tank top. I still felt every bit as solid as before.

“How’d you do that?” I demanded. “How can we be standing here, yet still sitting over there just a few feet away? An out-of-body experience is supposed feel like…an out-of-body experience…isn’t it?”

I looked at my hand; my ring was still there.

But then I looked down at my feet. The sandals I had just put on were already disappearing. I looked over at where I had kicked them before; they were still there.

“Well, I guess that didn’t work,” said Doc. “That’s an important lesson: You have to be wearing stuff for it to come with you. You’ll just have to suffer along barefoot, Ms. Megaton Man.”

Doctor Messiah snapped his fingers.

Now time, space, and reality all began to swirl…

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