Chapter One

Bailey Wells remembered getting a letter from his uncle Beddis some years ago in, 1971 he thinks... he was so busy that day, he really forgot to read it thru'.

His Uncle Beddis was the great great grandson of H.G. Wells, Beddis always said that, but we didn't ever see any proof, one way or the other, anyway, some ten years later Bailey went to find the letter. It was found under some boxes in the back of the garage were he kept all his secrets.

Bailey was an inventor of sorts. The glove-phone was one, the sunberrela was another. He had lots of wild ideas, his best one to date was, well we won't get into that just yet. He opened the letter again, and realised the last two pages contained a map, ending with these words:

Beddis Wells had died that summer of 1975. It had been a long hot summer, and Uncle Beddis was over 100 years old and it was his time to go I suppose. So armed with the map, Bailey went on a camping trip to Big Bear, up in the mountains south west of L.A., to find that mine his uncle had mentioned. There had been so many stories about the gold-mines of Big Bear, there were even rumours of plutonium being found some thirty years ago.

Bailey found more than what he was looking for on the third night, in an old dusty mining shaft. Armed with ropes and lanterns he walked very carefully turning this way and that for about an hour, until he came across not just one, but an assortment of boxes, all of them about four foot square, seven of them in fact. When he moved them they were very light in weight, Bailey took them one at a time back to the house he had rented for the week, well away from prying eyes.

When he opened one of the boxes, there inside he found a Glass Sphere, inside of which were many moving parts, again all made of glass, moving very slow, nothing seemed to be touching either the sphere itself or any of it's parts, in the centre was a small gyroscopic motion system spinning pretty fast. Bailey couldn't sleep at all, numerology kept jumping at him, left right and centre... four feet round, seven spheres... now according to the instructions he found in every box, he was to build Nine more, smaller spheres plus four interlocking devices, thirteen extra parts, he went to his notes on numerology, then back to the last letter that was in the last box he opened.

Chapter Two

In the year 1967, a child was born in Assissi, a beautiful city in Tuscany Italy. Her name was Petra Prossperi, the only child to Mischa and Andre Prossperi, two young artists living close to the famous Saint Francis church. Petra by any standards was a normal happy girl, a little quiet, but very sweet. Her mother worried about her being so quiet that she took her to the doctors when she was six to find out what was wrong with her little Petra. "She's a dreamer, that's all, she will grow out of it," the doctor said.

She never did. Petra loved to paint, painting music was her joy. That's all she ever did, musical notes seemed to pop out and dance in front of her. In fact she could hear the music she was painting. Her parents couldn't, it seems no one else could hear the music - only Petra, she never thought of asking anyone, she just thought everyone could hear them. When you're 6 years old everything is unique. So there she would be, in her special corner of the tiny art studio of her parents' house, splashing her musical art to paper.

Every Sunday people from all over the countryside would walk up, past her house on the way to the Doma of Saint Francis. There inside they would see figurines of all the wonderful animals of this world and the secret Devic kingdom, a wonderful sight to see. One day Petra decided to sell her paintings, so that everyone could enjoy her special talent, and hear the wonderful music. She was 8 years old and she wanted to save up enough money to buy a bicycle. When you're 8, a bicycle becomes your all life. Her school friends had bikes as well, so she would sit every Sunday by the gate to her house, with the paintings hanging on the fence for all to see and hear. But something struck Petra. When she asked people to listen to her paintings, they would smile a strange kind of smile, as tho' they felt sorry for someone. Petra felt that people, having been to church would be so happy, but that wasn't the case, generally people seemed a little sad as though they were in trouble for doing bad things, such is the ways of the church. The other funny thing was, she never sold a painting, not one. 'Oh well' she thought, so much for my bicycle.

I'm happy to tell you Petra got her bike on her ninth birthday. In fact it was later that day that she sat down to paint, she heard that most beautiful melody ever, very simple, yet very special, just a seven note cycle ever changing ever inventive, seven notes here, seven notes there, as tho' she was in the presence of the angels she thought. The music got more amazing as she painted.

The next day was Sunday, so she got her painting on the fence as usual, more for fun than anything. Not many people looked her way, so intent on their mission to go to the church, to speak with God and ask for something or other, forgiveness was the most important she thought... Then this old scraggly dog came along, sniffing the curbside and looking very tired, and very smelly as it got near to Petra. Suddenly he stopped right in front of the new painting, looked over to Petra and smiled a doggy sort of smile, and began to sway too, and fro, doing a doggy type dance of sorts. It was then that she heard them laughing, people were laughing at the poor dog. They couldn't hear the music (so involved in their worries). They thought the dog was mad maybe. It was at that moment Petra realised only she could hear the wonderful music and the old shaggy dog could as well. She got her paintings, took them into the tiny studio and hid them from everyone forever.

Petra never spoke about them ever again, and never did any music paintings from that day onward, as she grew up, she became well known as a sculptresss who specialized in white Doves of all shapes and sizes, dragonflies, tiny creatures, and very real like fearies, or Devas as they are known around the world. In fact Petra had written books about the lives of the Devic Kingdom. Some 25 years had passed since that sad day, there was Petra cleaning the front doorstep, she still lived with her parents, sweeping away her own daydreams, when just as she was about to go back to the studio, there was that crazy old shaggy dog from so long ago, sitting there smiling his strange doggy smile. And coming up the street was Bailey Wells himself, doing the typical tourist thing. He was still humming to himself, still trying to figure out the seven note musical key to starting his beloved secret Machine. He had heard it once or twice, while out and about, but by the time he had gotten home to his tape recorder, Damn!! He'd forgotten it, Damn!!

Bailey had become a day dreamer, in a way he had created his own understanding of the world, quiet different from the mainstream, he believed that music created all things, and that all things created music, one of his pet projects was the understanding of flowers, and how they radiate the three healing elements, sound color and perfume, he had even tract down a group of people in the 1930's who handed down ancient information, known as A>M>I>C>A. He also practiced deep meditation, and believed in life after life.

All these things kept Bailey in his own world, until that fateful day when he walked close to Petra's house, saw the dog, smiled and said "Hi", to the young lady. "It's such a beautiful day, my name is Bailey". Petra shyly invited him into the studio were she sold her work. It was as if by magic that Bailey turned around and hear music that filled his heart and soul with so much love, 'Where is the music coming from,?' he asked. Petra nearly fell down, there was no radio on or any kind of player working. Could he be hearing the musical paintings she had hidden in the corner cupboard? "I can hear this glorious music, I've heard it all before in my dreams, I'm sure, can you not hear it??" Petra with tears in her eyes started to tell Bailey her secret, just like that, these fountain of words came out, she laughed and cried at the same time, such a relief to tell someone, to know they understand... then after a while, she told him of the sacred painting which was her last one, the one containing the seven note cycle. In one gasp Bailey had to sit down. Of all the places in the world, to find the key to the Machine!

There is a story that comes from the 'Caretakers' of the earth, they say that everything is made from the harmonics of the universe. In fact everything is sound vibration, every living thing has it's own unique harmonic, animate and inanimate, all made up of the tiniest tone vibrations. Zillions of them form tree, flowers, humans, mountains rivers, rocks, oceans, animals, seas, grasslands, deserts, all forms of beings all interwoven each with their own unique music. To try to understand all this would take away the mystery and would take at least ten thousand years of constant thought... so just trust me.

Petra gave Bailey the mystic painting as a gift, but our story doesn't end there. They become great friends and decided to travel together. They weren't sure where or when, but as we shall see, expect the unexpected. It was just six months later while Bailey was in his garden , having spent another 10 hours working the machine, that he heard in the distance music from far away. It was his friend across the valley playing his favourite band, YES's new album, seven notes, seven words, seven harmonies, what was this song?