Mesopotamia - The Redeemer (30 page)

“Let me see if I understood this
correctly,” said Sophia.

“Sure,” said Enosh.

“The Gnostics refrain from wanting
anything meaningful in their lives since they have undergone
horrible personal tragedy.”

“Correct.”

“Because it's impossible to live
without desire, they desire, but they only permit themselves to
desire the notion of lacking.”

“That's right.”

“They justify their spiritual state
by believing that this is the way of the universe.”

“Correct. They believe in a supreme
God, the Master of Light, who wants to bring an end to the
universe. They believe in a hierarchy of Godly beings that serve
each other in order to fulfill this goal. The Gnostic serves the
angels, who serve the seraphim, who serve the aeons, who serve the
supreme God the Master of Light, who serves the ultimate purpose of
total annihilation.”

“And what is my function in the
face of such a desire for annihilation?”

“Your job is to enable the Gnostic
to be suspended in a state of unfulfilled desire. You must afford
him the opportunity to dare to desire some sort of actuality, that
is, to risk frustration.”

“That does not sound so
appealing.”

“You say that out of your
Pythagorean prejudice, which only believes in perfection. You must
internally identify with the taste of desiring something uncertain
and to convey this feeling to the Gnostic. The taste of hope
despite the frustration.

“There is a range of options that
exists between the Gnostic non-desire and the Pythagorean fulfilled
desire. They must be cultivated.” Enosh continued.

“And what are they?”

“'Desires that are only intended
for consciousness', such as private thoughts; 'thoughts that are
intended only for consciousness and expression', such as nostalgic
songs of longing; and 'desires that are intended to exert effort
for a non-guaranteed achievement', such as taking part in a
competition. If the Gnostic has the opportunity to withstand the
frustration of taking the risk, he will realize that there are
three additional options on the range between the non-conscious
desire and its fulfillment.”

“And again, I ask: How am I
supposed to do this? How do you open up these options for the
Gnostic and his desires?”

“By wanting those options for him
on his behalf. You enable him to know about his desires without
expressing them or telling them to anyone else. You have to be
prepared to hear about these desires even without trying to achieve
them. You must encourage him, to appreciate the efforts invested in
attaining what he wants, if only for the knowledge that he
tried.”

“It sounds too simple and easy to
me.”

“Do you want it to be hard?” Enosh
smiled in surprise.

“Apparently,” chuckled Sophia. “But
why should I want to work hard?”

“If you consider your efforts as
suffering, you will not recognize that you want to put in the
effort. But who said that hard work is suffering? According to the
Gnostics, effort is an expression of desire, and desire finds
expression in suffering. The Gnostic solution to the suffering of
desire is not to desire. The Pythagoreans see fulfillment as the
way to eradicate desire. In the Gnostics' view, annihilation is
happiness, and to the Pythagoreans, fulfillment is happiness.” He
looked her in the eye. “Precisely at the moment that you allowed
yourself to feel the loss of your father, you could also feel your
love, your desire. You became opened to the possibilities of
feeling the pleasure that stems from passion.”

She was silent for a moment, but
her fears were not allayed. “But how will I use this information in
my encounter with the Gnostics?”

“I do not know,” said Enosh
candidly. “I do not know which Gnostic you will meet or in what way
he will express his lack of desire. I can only guide you in the
principles of how our consciousness and desires work but you
yourself must apply these concepts as best as you can in the
situation. I plan on disappearing as soon as the Gnostics arrive.
It's important that I do not disrupt the relationship that develops
between you. The Gnostics cannot conduct direct communication with
you as long as I am present. I will step in at the moment when I
see fit to do so.”

“Are we even sure that this
encounter will even take place? Why, they can simply conquer the
station with sheer force. They know that we are unarmed and have no
desire to fight.”

“Ah...” Enosh stuttered. 'How right
she is,' he thought. 'We are not even sure that this encounter will
happen, and if it does, we have no guarantee that it will be
successful...'

“They can conquer the station by
force but their way of thinking is built in such a way that...”

“Yes?” she asked.

“You have no weapons, but you do
have an ideological battle with them. Therefore, we can hope that
they will want to utilize this opportunity to prove to you—as well
as to themselves—that they are right and throw the proof in your
face. In the Gnostic's eyes, you are to blame for their sorry
state. You, the apparently enlightened ones, deserted the people of
Earth instead of helping them in their plight. They have a bone to
pick with you. I expect that they will agree to meet with you if
you offer it.”

“But what will motivate them to do
so? That is how I will get an opportunity to influence them.”

“Because... one minute,” he sat
down. He wanted to say that, in his opinion, they are actually
looking forward to it, even though they themselves are not aware of
it. Suddenly, he was seized with doubt: 'How do I know what the
Gnostics really want?'

“I lost my train of thought,” he
said, and at that moment became paralyzed. He had been trying for a
few days already to convince not only the Pythagoreans but also
himself that he had no doubts toward his actions. At that moment he
realized that he could no longer continue that pretense.

Bitterness filled his mouth, that
same familiar bitterness; once again I have failed, he thought to
himself. The sense of doubt weakened him, bringing fear along with
it which in turn paralyzed him, Each time, the paralysis got
worse.

“Are you ok?” asked Sophia, seeing
the distress on his face.

“No,” he said and breathed a sigh
of relief when he realized that his paralysis had diminished for
the moment. “I'm not ok,” he added. “I have no answer to your
question. I'm not sure at all that there will be a meeting between
you and the Gnostics.” His words were dry and distant. Sophia was
shocked. Her support was gone. Her guide had no answer.

“What will become of us?” she said.
She had not seen him act like this since before he regained his
identity.

“I don't know.” As soon as he
expressed this, he felt some relief.

He realized his limits; despite
being the most senior expert on consciousness on Dust, despite the
respect they showed him and his achievements, he understood that
success was not a certain thing, even if he tried his hardest and
worked to the best of his abilities. 'There is no way to stop the
fear, and ignoring it will just paralyze me.' The pretense lifted
from his shoulders. “I do not know,” he repeated.

Her face fell. “I'm scared,” she
said.

He embraced her. “I'm scared
too.”

T
his was
the moment of truth. This drill was performed many times virtually.
Every pilot knew how to synchronize their acceleration in order to
connect to Samos' sphere, as well as how to leap from the external
to the internal sphere until they reached the landing sphere. From
there they would have to progress on foot, each one to his
position.

Truth was in the middle of the last
briefing before the infiltration when the communications officer
called him.

“Request from Samos,
Commander.”

Truth stopped the briefing and
turned to the communications officer.

“Transmit it only to me.”

“Welcome to the Samos communication
area. My name is Sophia. I have what you want.”

This was not what he was
expecting.

“Wait!” he said, trying to pause
and collect himself. He quickly considered all the possibilities.
It was possible to ignore the call and continue with the invasion,
but then he would lose the element of surprise. Wasn't it clear to
this woman that they were facing war? She certainly understood. But
if he continued according to the plan, she could destroy Samos and
the processor, and the blast would destroy his fleet. She was
certainly shrewd and committed enough to do this. On the other
hand, if he pretended to cooperate, perhaps he could outwit her and
insert a spy who could gather intelligence for the invasion.

“This is Truth, the ship's
commander. What do you know of our desire?” he asked dryly.

“You are interested in connecting
an object in your possession with an object that is in ours. We
would also like to learn more about you. Is it not in your interest
to learn more about the particle processor?”

'I have nothing to lose,' he
thought. 'After all, there seems to be no military threat. There's
no reason to rush into things if the naive Pythagoreans are readily
willing to host us, it would only improve our intelligence. If
there is a possibility of danger, on the slight chance that the
module will not fit the processor, it would be worth our while to
send in an agent. More intelligence can only bring us closer to our
ultimate goal.'

Truth chose his words carefully.
“We will send our delegate to you and he will inform you about
everything you need to know about us. You will do the same for
him.”

Sophia immediately responded, “A
scout is on his way to you now. He will guide whichever spacecraft
you choose. We are happy to facilitate mutual understanding. Thank
you for your trust.”

Sophia ended the transmission.

Truth knew immediately who he would
choose for the job. 'An expert on evasion will know how to escape
when it becomes necessary,' he thought. This unexpected development
made him uncomfortable. This woman had dominated the conversation
from beginning to end. He tried to ignore the feeling and the fact
that her behavior differed from the general restraint among the
Gnostic women. 'A spy within Samos may give us a significant
advantage,' he consoled himself. 'We still don't know exactly how
to connect the module with the processor. Whatever information we
gather could save us hours or even days of work.'

“Smoke, are you listening?”

“I'm listening.”

Truth updated him about the
conversation with Sophia. “Stay close to the scout. Enter Samos.
Memorize the way to get in. Collect all possible information about
the Pythagoreans and about Samos, but mainly about the particle
processor and how it operates. They will want information about us
and they'll have questions. If they ask you about yourself, answer
openly. We have no reason to be suspicious of them. If they ask you
about the mission, refer them to me. Tell them that you don't know.
You are permitted to kill yourself, at your discretion, if it
increases our chances of completing our mission. Under no
circumstances are you to damage the particle processor. Smoke,
confirm!”

“Smoke confirms.”

“Keep up contact,” continued Truth.
“Make your first communication in one hour from now. The time of
invasion will be determined according to the developments that you
report. Confirm!”

“Smoke confirms.”

“May the Master of Light be with
you.”

Smoke had complete faith in his
commander. He steered his spacecraft next to that of Thales, which
had accelerated towards Samos. The scout turned on a red beam of
light and flipped his spacecraft on its axis. They then found
themselves on the inner wall of the outer sphere looking towards
the inner sphere. Smoke marveled at the beams of light, which
vibrated in different rhythms with varying colors and shades. The
scout broke free, rolled over, hovered over the red beam of light
and then spun on his axis again. The process was repeated at each
of the six spheres of light. Smoke finally saw the station, like a
pearl resting in shades of white, gray, pink and blue; shades that
wove in and out of each other, fabricating a bright shell. As they
approached, Smoke realized that it was not a solid structure. The
spheres were in fact broad, round rings, like orbs cut short on
both sides, revolving around the inner spheres, which were wrapped
around even more spheres. Smoke admired the exquisite workmanship
and the engineering that went into this marvelous structure.

When they landed on the inner wall
of the seventh sphere, which was a solid surface, the scout invited
Smoke to exit his aircraft. He found himself in a vast hall. Almost
everything he saw around him bore the same colors as what he had
seen outside: pink, silver and gray.

“Welcome to Samos. I am Sophia.” A
woman in pale blue smiled and approached him.

Smoke recoiled and pushed her arm
away when she tried to place her hand on his shoulder, as was
customary of the host. She knew this was the expected response, but
nonetheless she was surprised to encounter it. 'This will be
difficult,' she thought.

Smoke regretted his impulsive
reaction. Truth had instructed him on how to act and stick to every
detail. Next time, he would allow the woman to put her arms around
him and would suffer through the pain of her gentle touch. Despite
the dizziness that came over him, despite the touch that chilled
him to the bone, despite the pain beating in his brain due to the
calming music enveloping everything around him, he forced himself
to speak with the terse formality typical of the Gnostics. After
all, he was a warrior and deputy to the leader of the Gnostic
forces.

“The honor is mine. I am
Smoke.”