Mesopotamia - The Redeemer (33 page)

“Give an example.”

“Not many centuries ago, the
Shamans of primitive cultures would read the liver of a slaughtered
animal to reveal their destiny. In reality, the healers were
reading their own intuitions, desires and beliefs in response to
the question of how to act in a particular situation. Decades ago,
astrologers believed that they could read one's destiny in the
stars, or one's preferable course of action. These signs on the
animal liver or in the stars can act as expressions of one's
personal belief; the man is not surrendering his will, only giving
it an external form. But, in many circumstances, people would
choose their spouses based on astrological signs. If a man says to
a woman, 'it says in the stars that we are destined for one
another,' this is an evasive gesture, since he does not have to
bear the burden of his desire for her.”

“Why does that man prefer the
stars?” she asked, thinking about the similarities in Pythagorean
tradition.

“So that he may avoid the risk that
comes with desire, that he may face rejection. First, he decodes
his predetermined spouse through the stars, afterward the
relationship develops, then he can rely on the fact that she wants
him, and only then can he desire her without running any risk.”

“How does that coincide with the
belief of the Gnostics?”

“The Gnostic also places his will
in the hands of the aeons and the Master of Light in order to avoid
personal desires which can end in disappointment. He hopes that
eventually, when his desires become more attainable, he can
retrieve his will that he handed over to someone else.”

“So how does a person take back his
will?”

Enosh replied slowly, weighing each
word. “It is slightly dangerous. The Gnostic's original will is
directed within a relationship that was taken away from him. In the
absence of the relationship, the person only has a desire to die.
This desire to nullify oneself is entrusted in the hands of the
Gnostic Gods and the leaders. The Gnostic turns his personal desire
into the desire of the collective whole, thereby providing him with
a personal connection, precisely what he wanted and was lacking.
When the Gnostic tries to retrieve his personal will, he is again
overcome with the desire to die.”

“In other words, he wants to commit
suicide?” Sophia asked.

“Yes.”

“Then we'll have an authentic
suicidal on our hands? If that's the case, he won't be with us
long,” Sophia smiled in the assumption that he had the solution to
this problem.

Enosh was surprised by her cynicism
and noted with satisfaction how much she had changed since first he
had met her. “You are right. That is precisely why we must replace
the one in possession of his will. You must enter the mental realm
of the Gnostic as a significant entity, one who could bear his will
for him. The purpose is to give him back ownership of his will, his
self-awareness.”

“If so, the Gnostic, who assigns
his will to his Gods and leaders, is actually surrendering his
identity. It is no coincidence that he gives up on himself. After
all, he was an abandoned orphan. Everyone has given up on him. If I
alter his perception of himself not as one who has relinquished his
will to another, but rather as one who has a connection with the
other person, then I have helped him recover his identity. It
reminds me of Thales.”

“How so?”

“Thales loved traveling with me
through the galaxy via the simulator. Now I realize that he was
excited about the journey because of my excitement. My desire to go
on these journeys gave him a reason to travel with me. It would
appear that he's changed since then. He disagreed with me when he
had no faith in you, and after that he disagreed with me when he
did have faith in you. All of this occurred when he released
himself from the Pythagorean belief.”

“And if you wanted to restore this
desire to journey within him, how would you do it?” Enosh
asked.

“I would say to him that what I
want from him is not to see landscapes and nature, but rather to
see the excitement those things gave him. This is how I would want
for him what he wants from himself.”

“Yes,” Enosh said. “You would trap
him in a paradox.”

“Let me try.”

“Go ahead.”

“I would steer his tendencies to
satisfy another person's desire toward his own will. I would create
a structure of a relationship in which he would need to desire in
order to satisfy.”

“I couldn't have said it better,”
he smiled with satisfaction.

She pushed the memory aside and
decided to take a gamble, to probe further. “Did you want to jump
from the roof? Did you want to die?”

Smoke recoiled from the question.
He wanted to push away her invasive questions but he answered
nonetheless. “I stood on the roof of the tallest building in our
compound. I looked out at the desert for a long time until Truth
came up and grabbed hold of me.”

“The desert?”

Smoke sank further into his chair
and closed his eyes. He didn't want to speak anymore. He was tired
of making it look like he was cooperating. After sitting silent for
a while he began to speak in a monotonous voice, almost
indifferent.

“I lived in the desert. With my
family. My father was killed when the cities were destroyed. My
mother fled with me and my little sister. We reached a city on the
edge of the desert, but so did the bombers. We ran away to dugout
shelters, but the bombing collapsed the ceiling of the tunnel where
we were hiding. When I woke up, there was only smoke, dust and an
unbearable smell. The quiet after the shelling was worse than the
bombing's loud noises. The mouth of the cave was blocked by big
rocks. I tried to clear a path back to them. I wanted to go back
into the hole and die with them.” He paused and looked down at his
hands. And then he panicked. 'How could I forget them? My father,
my mother, my sister, my family.' His heart was breaking but it
felt good to talk. Though he hated this pleasure and was afraid of
it, it drew him in. 'If only Truth would order me back to the
mother ship,' he thought. 'I have to follow instructions and make
it look like I'm cooperating,' he reminded himself. He savored this
small opportunity to express himself. Talking brought him relief—a
strange and pleasant relief.

He continued in a thoughtful voice.
“There wasn't a single living soul around me. After a while, I
could no longer count the days. For months, perhaps a year, I was
by myself. My mother had prepared before our escape from the city
so I did not lack in food or water that we had taken in survival
packs.” The soft cadence of his voice was lost, he straightened
himself in his chair, stretched his back and returned to the rigid
Gnostic tone. “Truth claims that I left the bombing without a
scratch and managed to survive for so long because the Master of
Light ordained that I would be the redeemer. He was with me. Then,
I did not know him by name.” He was quiet for a moment. Sophia held
her tongue and waited.

“Only afterward, in the Gnostic
compound,” he continued, “did I realize it was the Master of Light.
A few days after the bombing, he approached me. He came from the
desert. I didn't recognize him until he came closer. His color was
that of the desert. I could only discern him once he had opened his
eyes. His pupils were pure white, like small, lit flames. I wasn't
afraid of him. I knew that you were supposed to be afraid of snakes
that you can die from a snakebite, but I was not afraid to
die.”

Smoke was silent for a moment and
Sophia realized that he was reliving his encounter with the snake
in his mind. 'It would be interesting to see what would happen to
him if the simulator were still on. I wonder what we would see.'
She resisted the temptation and did not turn on the simulator.
Smoke seemed to be sinking deeper and deeper.

“He didn't bite me. He spoke to me.
He said he had come from the collapsed tunnels. He saw where my
family went after they were buried beneath the rubble. They went to
nothingness. I asked him if he could take me also. I wanted to be
with them.”

The vivid memories made him forget
the shame of revealing himself in front of this strange woman.

“You wanted the Master of Light to
take you to your mother,” Sophia whispered.

The need to express himself, which
had been blocked for so many years, overcame him. “The Master of
Light said that I had another task before I could join them. Truth
said it was the Master of Light. He also told me what the job was.
Devotion, nullification, nothingness, devotion, nullification,
nothingness, devotion, nullification...” Smoke sat exhausted and
silent in his chair.

Sophia wanted to run immediately to
Enosh and tell him about the change that happened right in front of
her. It was difficult to resist the impulse. She saw how Smoke's
desire to be with his mother was his own and not that of the Master
of Light. She saw how Smoke had avoided mourning through devotional
rituals to Truth and the Master of Light. If Smoke were to abandon
his mission, he may potentially return to the point of suicide that
he had experienced on the edge of the abyss. Her heart ached with
grief.

Her hand absently stroked his head.
He glared at her but did not move her away. She composed herself
and moved her hand away. 'At his own pace,' she told herself.

The din of small talk died down
once Truth entered the dining hall. He had been working on
alternate plans for invasion so he arrived only towards the end of
the meal. . He took a food tray for himself from the distribution
device and selected a serving of carbohydrates and two servings of
protein. Only Flash remained at the officers' table. He waited for
an opportunity to speak to the commander.

“Commander,” Flash greeted him.

“Flash,” Truth responded and sat
down. Truth was thinking of Smoke's situation as he started eating
the gray mush.

“If I may, sir...”

“Yes, Flash,” he was stirred from
his thoughts.

“The soldiers are tense,” he began
hesitantly.

“They should be,” he replied with
indifference.

“We've been planning for years, the
mission is simple. Why are we waiting?” Flash asked cautiously.

Truth was silent and his face was
solemn. Flash was afraid he had gone too far.

“We've planned for years and it is
thereby imperative that we gather as much information as we can,”
he said. “We cannot make any mistakes and Smoke's presence in the
station can only benefit us. We've waited until now,” Truth looked
into his eyes and added, “Patience, Flash.”

“I don't trust these sly
Pythagoreans. They talk of peace. Commander, can Smoke withstand
the Pythagorean witch?”

“Silence!” Truth said, throwing a
dark look at Flash. “I chose Smoke!” he snapped at him. “Do you
doubt my judgment?” The words cut through the air.

“Sir, forgive me for my rudeness. I
only have the success of the mission in mind,” he said, bowing his
head.

“Smoke to Truth,” Truth's
communication device notified him.

“Hold on,” Truth said to Smoke.
“For the sake of the mission, finish eating and get back to work,”
he said to Flash.

“Yes, Sir.” Flash stood up,
humiliated and angry.

“Truth here,” he was relieved to
hear Smoke's voice and listened carefully, trying to discern any
changes, but his terse report bore no remnant of the agitation of
their previous conversation.

“Status report: the Pythagoreans do
not suspect a thing. She is studying me. She is interested in the
Gnostic mentality and thought process. She does this through a
simulation. I believe I have succeeded in presenting myself as a
collaborator and I have convinced her to trust me.”

“Go on!” Truth said.

“There are several platforms on the
surface sphere and everyone has access to the station.”

“Continue.”

“Scouts man the platforms. As far
as I understand, as unbelievable as it may seem, our theory that
Pythagoreans would offer no resistance is indeed correct.”

“Continue.”

“Details of access routes,
Sir.”

Smoke described in detail the
routes leading from the platforms inward to the station, the sphere
of command, the simulator, the living quarters, and the core of the
processor. Truth drew a map as Smoke delivered his report, asked
questions for clarification, received detailed responses and once
again felt confident about his subordinate.

“And what about what was bothering
you in your last report?”

“There is no reason to worry.
Everything is under control. I am... sorry for my outburst. I did
not behave properly.”

“I believe in you, Smoke.”

“With all humility, Sir.”

“Pythagoras must fall, and not a
sound will be heard when it does. You must bring it down,
Smoke.”

Anxiety mixed with pleasure
fluttered in Smoke's chest. He once again felt a wave of love for
Truth. His belly seemed to stick to his back when he thought about
the weight of his responsibility. “I am your servant.”

It seemed to Truth that he detected
a small crack in his voice. 'I will not let Flash's rivalry affect
my judgment. I must encourage Smoke.'

“Your mission is still not
complete. Master of Light be with you! Over and out.”

Sophia sat in her chair and watched
as he wandered across the sample room; he stopped at one item or
another, his movements conveying curiosity. She noticed a tremor in
his fingers as he held a glass of water, a tremor she had not
noticed earlier. He looked different after having rested—young and
more upright. His eyes were clearer.

“How did you know that the snake
was the Master of Light?” she asked.

Smoke turned away from the Saifun
fish in the floating ball of water. “In the Gnostic orphanage, we
learned that the snake is one of the manifestations of the Master
of Light. In the Jews' Torah, the serpent in Paradise was the
incarnation of the Master of Light.”