Barabar (The Caves of Time)

Dr. Susan Strong and a handful of colleagues began their intensive study of the Barabar Caves in East India. Even after more than five years of research, each time she stepped inside one of those chambers, a shiver ran down her spine, the same electric sensation she felt on her very first visit.

The Barabar Caves weren’t their only focus. They poured themselves into the mysteries of the Ajanta Caves in West India, committing countless hours to examining every chisel mark, every alignment, every haunting echo.

The more they uncovered, the more convinced they became that these were not merely temples, as academic consensus so neatly and quickly claimed.

Five relentless years, Susan and her team devoted their lives to the question that refused to let them go: What purpose did these structures truly serve, and who could have possibly built them?

Recently, their attention shifted with laser focus to the Barabar Caves. These Caves were different—unsettlingly different. Inside, there were no idols, no markings, no hint of human expression. Only hollow silence and arched domes that seemed to breathe with secrets.

The walls were polished to a perfection that defied comprehension—a smooth, mirror-like finish so flawless it caught the dim light and bent it unnaturally. The precision wasn’t just remarkable; it was impossible. No chisel, no primitive tool, no human hand could have achieved it.

Susan and her team began to whisper theories they would never dare publish. The Barabar Caves felt less like sanctuaries of worship and more like vaults—constructed by something beyond human, perhaps for a purpose no one was meant to uncover. Every time she stepped inside, her gut couldn’t shake the feeling that they weren’t studying the caves. The caves were studying them.

One evening, Susan and her colleagues remained in the largest of the Barabar chambers. They had been experimenting with sound, curious about the peculiar acoustics. Even a whisper seemed to ricochet unnaturally, swelling into something larger, almost alive.

On this night, Marcus who was second in command and her best friend, struck a tuning fork calibrated to a deep, resonant frequency. The sound rolled through the chamber, vibrating against the polished walls. Susan felt it in her chest, as if her heartbeat were syncing to the tone. She closed her eyes—and then it happened.

The walls began to hum. Not loudly, but in a way that made the air shimmer, as though reality itself was wavering. The team adjusted the frequency, fine-tuning closer and closer until the vibrations aligned with something ancient and hidden: 7.83 hertz—the Earth’s Schumann resonance.

The cave responded. A section of the mirrored wall rippled like water disturbed by a stone. At first, it was only a faint distortion. Then, with a sudden lurch, a vertical seam of light split the stone, widening into a blinding gateway. The room filled with an otherworldly hum, both terrifying and magnetic.

Susan and her team staggered back, goosebumps tearing across her arms. The impossible had just happened before her eyes. The Barabar Caves were not tombs, not temples. They were doors.

And tonight…one had just opened.

Susan plunged her hand into the liquid-like surface, and instantly felt a violent tug. She yanked it back, gasping, her fingers trembling as if they’d been caught in a current of unseen force.

“Shut it down!” she barked.

The resonance faded. The humming cave fell into silence as the glowing, gaseous seam in the wall solidified. By the time the final echo died, the wall was once again seamless stone—cold, impenetrable, ordinary to the untrained eye.

The team stood frozen, wide-eyed, as if they had just glimpsed the impossible.

“What the hell was that?” Marcus finally whispered.

Susan steadied herself, her voice low but urgent. “I think we’ve just uncovered the truth. These caves aren’t tombs. They’re not temples, and they’re not shelters carved out for monsoon rains. They’re gateways, Marcus. And we need to know…where they lead.”

Marcus’s lips curled into a thin smile. “Or when.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t mean—”

“Time travel,” he finished. “Why not? These walls could open to the farthest edge of the universe… or ten thousand years in past or the future. Space and time are inseparable, Susan. You know that.”

The air thickened. For a moment, no one moved.

Finally, one of the younger researchers broke the silence. “So… what do we do now?”

Marcus exhaled, his nerves raw. “We do nothing. We pack and get the hell out before we stumble into something we can’t control.”

Susan stepped closer, lowering her voice. “Are you insane? This is the discovery of a lifetime. Look around—there are at least fifteen people here who just witnessed what we saw. You really think we can walk away? Within a month, someone else will be back. And maybe, Marcus… maybe they’ll step through.”

“You’re right,” Marcus admitted. “We can’t keep this a secret. But who here actually has the guts to step through? I know I don’t. What if it’s a one-way trip… to hell?”

“Or heaven,” Susan countered with a half-smile.

Susan shot him a look. “Listen, we don’t know where this doorway leads. But think about it—the people who built this place, and six others like it, didn’t carve them into the earth for nothing. They poured everything they had into these structures. Does that sound like a path to damnation? No. It sounds like a purpose. Maybe even salvation.

Open your eyes Marcus, you know as well as I do—our ancestors didn’t have the technology for this. Hell, we don’t have the technology now for this. This place isn’t human. It’s otherworldly. And now we’ve stumbled onto what it was meant for. We can’t just walk away.”

Jason stepped forward, his voice steady. “Marcus, Susan’s right. We came here to uncover the truth about our past. About why so many structures across the planet lie in ruins, their purpose lost to time. And now… we’ve finally found one that still works. Are you saying we should just turn our backs?”

Marcus exhaled sharply. “No. You’re right. I just—” He glanced at the glowing seam in the wall, uneasy. “Every time humanity plays with forces it doesn’t understand, it ends in disaster. Look at history. Every time we try to play God, we bleed for it. So tell me—who’s willing to risk it? Who steps through first? Not me!”

“Chicken!” a voice rang out from the back of the chamber.

Heads turned. Vanessa, the team’s lead engineer, strode into the light. Her hardhat tucked under her arm, eyes gleaming with determination. “I’ll go,” she said without hesitation.

Jason nodded immediately. “So will I.”

George added, “Count me in.”

“Wait—stop!” Susan’s voice cut through the rising momentum. She moved between them and the shimmering wall. None of us are experts in this technology. We have no idea what’s on the other side. It could be paradise—or it could be a death trap. Worse, what if you make it through… and can’t come back?”

She glanced at the wall again, her conviction cracking. “The more I think about it, the more I’m beginning to side with Marcus. This isn’t something we should jump into blindly. We need oversight. Authority. If someone vanishes… how do we explain that?”

Marcus crossed his arms, almost smug. “See? Finally, someone’s talking sense. Susan’s right. If one of you goes missing, we’re responsible. And what then? Headlines? Cover-ups? Or worse… retaliation? No. There are too many variables. We need to think before we leap.”

The cave fell into silence again, the hum of the dormant gateway pressing against them like a heartbeat in the stone.

“You two sound like politicians,” Vanessa snapped, her voice echoing sharply against the polished walls. “Authority? Oversight? By the time the government gets involved, this place will be swarming with soldiers and scientists who will lock us out. We’ll never set foot near this gateway again. Is that what you want—to hand the greatest discovery in human history to bureaucrats?”

A murmur of agreement rippled through the group. Jason stepped forward, eyes locked on Susan. “She’s right. We didn’t dedicate our lives to chasing mysteries just to turn tail now. This is why we’re here. To answer the questions no one else has the courage to ask.”

George added, his voice low but resolute, “If not us, then who?”

Susan felt her chest tighten. She glanced at Marcus—his jaw was set, but there was doubt in his eyes too. The glow from the wall pulsed faintly, as though it were listening, waiting.

“Don’t you see?” Marcus hissed. “That’s exactly how civilizations destroy themselves—grabbing at power they don’t understand. You think this is some divine opportunity? It could be a trap. For all we know, stepping through could unleash something on this side.”

Vanessa folded her arms. “Or it could be the answer to every question humanity has ever asked. What are we doing here? Where do we come from? Are we alone? You really want to die never knowing?”

The chamber was tense, the divide growing sharper with every word. Fifteen pairs of eyes shifted between the glowing seam and Susan, as if waiting for her verdict.

The wall pulsed again—this time stronger. The resonance swelled faintly in the floor, the echo of a heartbeat unknown.

Susan’s throat went dry. It’s calling us, she thought. It wants us to decide.

Without hesitation, Vanessa struck the tuning fork. The vibration surged through the chamber, low and thunderous, and the glowing seam in the wall flared violently. The doorway pulsed like a heart.

“It’s calling us!” Vanessa cried, her eyes blazing. “Who’s got the nerve?” Her voice carried a dangerous thrill, the kind of dare that left no room for doubt.

Everyone turned toward the wall. The seam widened, rippling outward until it swelled into a circular vortex of gas and light. It seemed alive, beckoning, demanding someone to cross.

Vanessa slipped between her colleagues, her movements calm but deliberate, until she stood at the doorway. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. The anticipation inside her was palpable, radiating off her like heat. Yet no one saw it—every pair of eyes was fixed on the swirling portal.

Susan caught Vanessa’s glance just as she lunged. Without hesitation, Vanessa charged forward—and vanished into the mist.

“Vanessa!” Susan screamed, her voice ricocheting through the cave. Silence followed. Dozens of faces stared at the portal, wide-eyed, blinking as though their minds refused to process what happened.

“Keep that tuning fork vibrating!” Susan snapped. “We need that doorway open.”

Jason moved toward the light.

“Jason, what are you doing?” Susan demanded.

He raised a hand, tentative. “Relax. I’m just reaching in—hoping maybe she’ll grab my hand from the other side.”

Susan’s face hardened. “Not until we understand what happened. Do you hear me?”

Jason sighed, reluctant. “Fine. I was just hoping—”

Then his words cut off in a strangled cry. The portal seized his arm like a predator. Jason thrashed. “Help! It’s pulling me in!”

Marcus and George lunged, each grabbing his arm and straining to hold him back.

Jason screamed, eyes wild. “No! No! I don’t want to go! It’s wrong—it feels wrong!”

The pull was relentless. The air churned around him, tugging with a force that seemed to grow with every second. One by one, the others grabbed hold, forming a desperate human chain, their boots sliding across the polished floor. His torso slipped through the cloud, then his hips, the team’s grip faltering as the vortex swallowed him whole.

It wasn’t enough. With a final jerk, Jason’s body disappeared into the roiling haze. The chain collapsed in a heap, tumbling across the ground like toppled dominoes. And then—silence.

The portal shimmered before them, as though mocking their helplessness.

Susan pushed herself upright, trembling, her face pale. “No one else goes near that door—understood?” Her voice cracked. She felt hollow, gutted by guilt. Two of her colleagues—gone. Just like that.

How would she explain it? She could already hear the inevitable questions. Why didn’t you notify the authorities the moment you discovered something of this magnitude? Why didn’t you follow protocol?

She knew the questions—they always demanded control of the narrative. They always buried the truth. Disappearances could be explained away, justified, erased. But this… this was beyond justification. And now the burden of it all sat squarely on her shoulders.

The portal rippled, then stilled, like a lens coming into focus. Gas and light melted into something else—something impossibly clear.

“Look!” Jason’s assistant gasped.

On the other side stretched not a world, but time itself. Images flickered in rapid succession—ancient forests teeming with creatures long extinct, sprawling cities of gleaming towers, deserts where oceans should be, oceans where mountains once stood. Ages blinked past in heartbeats, the portal flipping through them like pages in a book.

Then it slowed.

The team saw Vanessa and Jason—alive—but not in the present. Vanessa stood in a marketplace that looked Babylonian, merchants in clay masks haggling over jars of grain. Jason staggered in a different place entirely—a future skyline of silver arches and floating platforms, where drones streaked across a neon horizon.

“Dear God…” Marcus whispered, transfixed. “It’s not just a doorway. It’s a machine. A machine that folds time.”

The chamber vibrated violently, as though the cave itself resented their realization. The mirrored walls pulsed, sending ghostly reflections of the team’s own faces from a thousand different ages—young, old, decayed, unborn—all staring back at them in eerie synchronization.

Susan’s throat tightened. “It’s a time machine,” she said, her voice barely audible. “These caves weren’t built for prayer or shelter. They’re control stations—gates to the past and future.”

The vision sharpened once more. Jason turned toward them, his mouth opening in a scream they couldn’t hear, reaching desperately for the shimmering veil. Behind him, a futuristic skyline flickered and dissolved into fire. Vanessa appeared again, her face streaked with dirt, standing in the middle of an ancient battlefield. Soldiers in bronze armor clashed around her, unaware of her presence.

And then—darkness. The images collapsed back into the golden haze. The portal pulsed one last time, as if mocking them, before settling into its steady hum.

The team staggered back, pale and shaken.

Susan clenched her fists, her heart pounding. “We’ve been standing in front of a time machine all along,” she said. “And it just stole two of our own.”

Suddenly, the resonance died. The hum collapsed, and the doorway sealed itself into solid stone.

Susan’s chest broke. Tears welled and slipped down her cheeks. Marcus stepped close, placing a steady hand on her shoulder.

“You know this isn’t your fault,” he said gently. “You gave no orders. They acted on their own instincts. You’ve got thirteen witnesses who’ll say the same.”

“I know,” Susan whispered, her voice cracking. “But this isn’t just about colleagues. I lost two friends.”

The chamber was still, but in the silence, a low pitch began to rise. At first faint, like a whisper in the dark, then louder—so loud it rattled the polished walls.

Susan’s eyes widened. “Who struck the fork?”

Everyone glanced around, confused. No one had moved, yet the cave was alive again. The wall liquefied, glowing, reforming into the swirling, gaseous portal.

“Stay back!” Susan barked, her voice sharp with fear. “I can’t lose another one of you.”

The vortex pulsed violently, a fierce, almost angry light pouring into the chamber. The team instinctively formed a semicircle around it, breath held, waiting.

Then—Vanessa stumbled through.

Her eyes were hollow, her face drained. She blinked in confusion, memory fractured. It was as if part of her mind had been erased. She knew the team, hugged them back with trembling arms, but had no idea why she had vanished or how she had returned.

Relief turned to shock when the portal pulsed again. A moment later, Jason emerged. His expression mirrored Vanessa’s—dumbfounded, disoriented, staring as though he’d been somewhere else and snapped back into the cave with no recollection of how.

The team gathered close. Susan quickly filled them in on what had happened during their absence. Slowly, haltingly, Jason and Vanessa began to remember. They spoke of places they’d been—different times, different worlds—but what chilled the room was this: they’d met the same people.

“How?” George muttered. “How could you meet the same people when you were thousands of years apart?”

Vanessa shuddered. “Because one of them wasn’t from Babylon. He told me he learned how to travel outside of time. He said Earth isn’t what we think—it’s a cycle. Like a film strip with trillions of frames. Each frame is a moment, and we’re stuck moving through them in order. But he and others… they live outside. They can step into any moment they choose.”

The chamber grew colder.

Vanessa’s voice trembled as she continued. “He said Earth always repeats itself. Birth. Life. Learning. Power. Domination. Division. Collapse. Each cycle ends the same way—destruction from within. And when that happens… a new Earth is born.”

The group sat in stunned silence. The weight of it pressed into their bones.

Finally, Susan spoke. “Then this isn’t just travel. It’s a test. Maybe even a chance to break the cycle.”

The wall shimmered again. The choice loomed.

Susan and George exchanged a glance. Their faces were pale, but resolute. They stepped forward, pulled by a force greater than fear.

The vortex grew, light boiling within its center. Susan felt the tug and let it take her. She vanished in an instant.

A few minutes later, George followed.

The chamber fell silent.

The remaining team stood in the glow, hearts pounding, eyes fixed on the swirling veil of time—waiting.