Copyright © 2011 by Erich von Däniken.
This electronic format is published by Tantor eBooks, a division of Tantor Media, Incorporated,
and was produced in the year 2011.
What I saw was not the product of dreams or imagination, it was real and tangible.
A gigantic system of tunnels, thousands of miles in length and built by unknown constructors at some unknown date, lies hidden deep below the South American continent. Hundreds of miles of underground passages have already been explored and measured in Ecuador and Pent. That is only a beginning, yet the world knows nothing about it.
On July 21, 1969, Juan Moricz, an Argentine subject, deposited a legal title-deed signed by several witnesses with Dr. Gustavo Falconi, a notary in Guayaquil. The deed sets out Moricz’s claim to be the discoverer of the tunnels as far as the Republic of Ecuador and posterity are concerned. I had this document, which was written in Spanish, translated by a UN interpreter. I quote the most important parts of it at the beginning of this incredible story of mine:
“Juan Moricz, Argentine citizen by naturalization, born in Hungary, Passport No. 4361689 . . .
“I have discovered objects of great cultural and historical value to mankind in the Province of Morona-Santiago, within the boundaries of the Republic of Ecuador.
“The objects consist mainly of metal plaques inscribed with what is probably a resume of the history of a lost civilization, the very existence of which was unsuspected by mankind hitherto. The objects are distributed among various caves and are of many different kinds. I was able to make my discovery in fortunate circumstances . . . In my capacity as a scholar, I was carrying out research into the folklore and the ethnological and linguistic aspects of Ecuadorian tribes . . .
“The objects I found are of the following kinds:
“1. Stone and metal objects of different sizes and colors.
“2. Metal plaques (leaves) engraved with signs and writing.
“These form a veritable metal library which might contain a synopsis of the history of humanity, as well as an account of the origin of mankind on earth and information about a vanished civilization.
“The fact of my discovery has made me the legal owner of the metal plaques and other objects in accordance with Article 665 of the Civil Code.
“However, as I am convinced that the objects, which were not found on my own land, are of incalculable cultural value, I refer to Article 666, according to which the treasure I discovered remains my personal property, but subject to State control.
“I beg you, most excellent President of the Republic, to appoint a scientific commission to verify the contents of this document and assess the value of the finds . . .
“I am prepared to show such a commission the exact geographical position and site of the entrance, as well as the objects I have discovered so far . . .”
Moricz stumbled on the underground passages in June, 1965, during his research work, in which he was ably assisted by Peruvian Indians who acted as skillful intermediaries between him and their tricky fellow tribesmen. Being cautious by nature and skeptical as befitting a scholar, he kept silent for three years. Not until he had covered many miles of underground passages and found all kinds of remarkable objects did he ask President Velasco Ibarra for an audience in the spring of 1968. But the President of a country in which nearly all his predecessors had been deposed by rebellions before the expiry of their term of office, had no time for this lone wolf with his incredible tale of discovery. The palace flunkies found the obstinate archaeologist very charming and assured him, after long delays, that the President would be glad to receive him in a few months’ time, but Moricz was finally told he could not have an audience until 1969. Disillusioned and embittered he withdrew to his subterranean retreat.
I first met Juan Moricz on March 4, 1972.
His lawyer, Dr. Pena Matheus of Guayaquil, had been trying to get in touch with him by telegram and telephone for two whole days. I had settled down in Dr. Pena’s office with plenty to read, somewhat nervous, I must admit, because according to all reports Moricz was a very difficult man to approach and had a deep aversion to anyone connected with the writing profession. Finally one of the telegrams readied him. He telephoned me. He knew my books! “I don’t mind talking to you,” he said.
On the night of March 4 he stood there, a wiry, deeply tanned man in his mid-forties, with gray hair. He is one of those men who has to be drawn out, because he himself is anything but talkative. My vehement, insistent questions amused him. Gradually he began to give a factual and very expressive description of his tunnels.
“I can’t believe it!” I cried.
“Nevertheless, it’s just as he says,” said Dr. Pena, “I’ve seen it all with my own eyes.”
Moricz invited me to visit the caves.
Moricz, Franz Seiner (my traveling companion) and I climbed into a Toyota jeep. During the twenty-four hour drive to the site we took turns at the wheel. Before we entered the caves, we took the precaution of having a good sleep. When the dawn sky announced the advent of a hot day, our adventure began.
The entrance, cut in the rock and wide as a barn door, is situated in the province of Morona-Santiago, in the triangle formed by Gualaquiza-San Antonio-Yaupi, a region inhabited by hostile Indians. Suddenly, from one step to another, broad daylight changed to pitch darkness. Birds fluttered past our heads. We felt the draught they created and shrank back. We switched on our torches and the lamps on our helmets, and there in front of us was the gaping hole which led down into the depths. We slid down a rope to the first platform 250 feet below the surface. From there we made two further descents of 250 feet. Then our visit to the age-old underworld of a strange unknown race really began. The passages all form perfect right angles. Sometimes they are narrow, sometimes wide. The walls are smooth and often seem to be polished. The ceilings are flat and at times look as if they were covered with a kind of glaze. Obviously these passages did not originate from natural causes—they looked more like contemporary air-raid shelters!
As I was feeling and examining ceilings and walls, I burst out laughing and the sound echoed through the tunnels. Moricz shone his torch on my face:
“What’s wrong? Have you gone crazy?”
“I’d like to see the archaeologist with the nerve to tell me that this work was done with hand-axes!”
My doubts about the existence of the underground tunnels vanished as if by magic and I felt tremendously happy. Moricz said that passages like those through which we were going extended for hundreds of miles under the soil of Ecuador and Peru.
“Now we turn off to the right,” called Moricz.
We stood at the entrance to a hall as big as the hangar of a Jumbo Jet. It could have been a distribution center or a storeroom, I thought. Galleries leading in different directions branched off it. When I tried to use my compass to find out where they led, it went on strike. I shook it, but the needle did not move. Moricz watched me:
“It’s no use. There is radiation down here that makes it impossible to get a compass bearing. I don’t know anything about the radiation, I have only observed it. It’s really a job for physicists.”
On the threshold of a side passage a skeleton lay on the ground It looked as if a doctor had carefully prepared it for an anatomy lesson, but in addition had sprayed it all over with gold dust. The bones gleamed in the light of our torches like solid gold.
Moricz told us to switch off our torches and follow him slowly. It was very quiet; all I could hear was our footsteps, our breathing and the whir of the birds, to which we rapidly grew accustomed. The darkness was blacker than the darkest night.
“Switch on your torches,” shouted Moricz.
We were standing dumbfounded and amazed in the middle of a gigantic hall. Moricz, the proud discoverer, had prepared the effect as cleverly as the citizens of Brussels, who use the same trick when confronting foreign tourists with their Grand Place, perhaps the most beautiful square in the world.
This nameless hall into which the seventh passage leads is intimidatingly large, but very beautiful and nobly proportioned. We were told that the ground plan measures 153 by 164 yards, It went through my mind that these were almost the dimensions of the Pyramid of the Moon at Teotihuacan and that in both cases no one knows who the builders, the brilliant technicians, were.
There was a table in the middle of the room.
Was it really a table?
Presumably, for there were seven chairs along one side.
Were they chairs?
Apparently they were.
Stone chairs?
No, they did not have the same cold feeling as stone.
Were they made of wood?
Definitely not. Wood would never have lasted for thousands of years.
Were they made of metal?
I did not think so. They felt like some kind of plastic, but they were as hard and heavy as steel. There were animals behind the chairs: saurians, elephants, lions, crocodiles, jaguars, camels, bears, monkeys, bison, and wolves, with snails and crabs crawling about between them. Apparently they had been cast in molds and there was no logical sequence about their arrangement. They were not in pairs, as is usual in pictures of Noah’s Ark. They were not arranged by species, as zoologists prefer. Nor were they in the hierarchical order of natural evolution used by biologists. They simply stood there peacefully, as if the laws of nature did not apply.
The whole thing was like a fantastic zoo and what is more all the animals were made of solid metal.
Also in this hall was the most precious treasure of all, the metal library mentioned in the notarial title-deed, although I could never have guessed what it was really like from reading about it.
The library of metal plaques was opposite the zoo, to the left of the conference table. It consisted partly of actual plaques and partly of metal leaves only millimeters thick. Most of them measured about 3 feet 2 inches by 1 foot 7 inches. After a long and critical examination, I still could not make out what material had been used in their manufacture. It must have been unusual, for the leaves stood upright without buckling, in spite of their size and thinness. They were placed next to each other like bound pages of giant folios. Each leaf had writing on it, stamped and printed regularly as if by a machine. So far Moricz has not managed to count the pages of his metal library, but I accept his estimate that there might be two or three thousand.
The characters on the metal plaques are unknown, but if only the appropriate scholars were told of the existence of this unique find now I am sure that they could be deciphered comparatively quickly in view of the wealth of possibilities for comparison.
No matter who the creator of this library was, nor when he lived, this great unknown was not only master of a technique for the “mass-production of metal folios in vast numbers—the proof is there—he also had written characters with which he wanted to convey important information to beings in a distant future. This metal library was created to outlast the ages, to remain legible for eternity.
Time will show whether our own age is seriously interested in discovering such fantastic, awe-inspiring secrets.
Is it prepared to decipher an age-old work even if it means bringing to light truths that might turn our neat but dubious world picture completely upside down?
Do not the high priests of all religions ultimately abhor revelations about prehistory that might replace
belief
in the creation by
knowledge
of the Creation?
Is man really prepared to admit that the history of his origin was entirely different from the one which is instilled into him in the form of a pious fairy story?
Are pre-historians really seeking the unvarnished truth without prejudice and partiality?
No one likes to fall off a skyscraper he has built himself.
The walls and passages of the tunnel system were bare. There were no paintings like those in the deep burial chambers in the Valley of the Kings near Luxor, no reliefs of the kind found in prehistoric caves at sites all over the world. Instead there were stone figures which we bumped into at every step.
Moricz owns a stone amulet 4 1/2 inches high and 2 1/2 inches wide. The obverse is engraved with a being with a hexagonal body and round head that might have been drawn by a child. The figure holds the moon in its right hand and the sun in its left hand. Admittedly, that is not particularly surprising, but—it stands with both feet firmly on the terrestrial globe! Surely that is a clear proof that even in times when the first primitive drawings were scratched on stone, a chosen few of our first ancestors already knew that we lived on a globe! The reverse shows a half moon and the radiant sun. Without any doubt, this stone amulet found in the tunnels seems to me to be a proof that they were already in existence in the Middle Paleolithic (9000-4000 B.C.).