Mesopotamia - The Redeemer (37 page)

In Flash's eyes, Truth was like a
God on Earth. Each spot on Truth's skin mesmerized him. He believed
that the arrangements made by the spots were some sort of secret
code. This was how he tried to interpret Truth's reasoning for
adding tattoos to specific places on his skin. He tried to imitate
him, but did not dare tattoo himself like Truth had done, until
that day when Truth found him bleeding in the closet. In contrast
to Truth, he felt his emotions: he harbored feelings of love for
Truth. In fact, he was motivated by the pain he felt when Truth did
not reciprocate his love. Now, as leader of the rebel Brotherhood
of Purity, he wanted to hurt Truth. His hate stemmed from his
tremendous and unrequited love.

“At ease,” Truth released Flash and
took his place in the seat. He began abruptly. “Smoke's initial
reports from Samos were exact and to the point, and he relayed
important information about how to infiltrate Samos.”

“If I may, Sir.”

“Yes, Flash.”

Flash took a chance. After he was
completely repelled in the mess hall, he tried anyway to return to
that same point he had made earlier. “I am confident in Smoke's
honesty and professionalism, but we are not familiar with the
female. We should not rule out the possibility that his arbitrary
elusiveness could not withstand the calculated order of the
Pythagoreans. I am not ruling out the possibility that the female
enchanted him with her womanly seductions.”

Truth debated how to answer him. He
understood that he had exhausted his influence as a commander and
he now must convince Flash. The rivalry between Smoke, the
talented, confident young man who was destined to replace him one
day, and Flash, the veteran and experienced soldier, was not lost
on him; but Flash had not been blessed with the natural talent and
charisma that was so necessary for such a complex leadership. Flash
was an excellent substitute, but was not made of the stuff from
which leaders are made. Truth tried to explain his position
patiently, even though his status as commander did not dictate this
as necessary. Despite this, he considered the possibility that
maybe Flash was right.

'Even if he is enchanted, we cannot
allow ourselves to judge Smoke without a trial,' mused Truth. 'It
will undermine the confidence of our soldiers. We cannot amputate
him from our body as if he were a useless limb. We must keep them
confident that when we send them alone on a mission, they will
continue to be a crucial limb on the Gnostic body. If the
Pythagoreans brainwashed him, we must try him, and then use this
trial as a tool to strengthen the loyalty of the entire Gnosis.
Rumors that Smoke has been abandoned are liable to weaken the
soldiers, especially in the middle of an invasion. What is more, we
are not even sure that we can properly attach the module. We may
need our forces and their loyalty for many more years.'

After all, Smoke was not just
another soldier out of many. The warriors of the invading forces
knew about Truth's relationship with Smoke. They knew that if Truth
did not merit becoming the Redeemer, the task would be passed on to
Smoke. Therefore, if any doubt was cast on Smoke, it would be
equivalent to an admission that Truth's judgment as a leader was
not worthy of their trust. “I understand your concern, but we must
not suspect Smoke until we can clarify the facts,” Truth tried to
placate Flash.

“What are your orders, Supreme
Father?” asked Flash.

“My orders,” he hesitated for a
moment, and then his voice became firm. “I want a report on the
readiness of the invading forces. Personnel, tools and tactical
plans. I want all of the light aircraft in a spherical distribution
around Samos' external sphere. I want at least one light aircraft
to be aligned with each of the light chords of Samos' external
sphere. I want each of these light aircrafts to be ready to move up
close to the chord and execute a flip, twirl and then enter into
the internal spheres on his own, on command. I want a spherical
cover of heavy aircraft around the layer of lighter invading
crafts. The heavier forces must prevent the Pythagorean scouts from
escaping from the station and prevent any outside aid from
entering. See to it that the crafts are constantly in a state of
preparedness. See to it that the shifts are replaced every eight
hours. It may be some time before the actual invasion takes place.
I want a complete siege: no one must enter and no one must leave
Samos.”

Flash seized the opportunity
afforded by the slight pause in Truth's speech to ask excitedly,
“When shall I schedule the invasion itself?”

“At this stage, I only want a
report that all the preparations have been completed. Make sure
that the electromagnetic hooks onto the light chords have not been
created. At ease!”

Flash looked into Truth's eyes, the
only father that he had ever known. “Your orders will be carried
out immediately, commander.” He lowered his gaze and stiffened his
body. Releasing the electromagnetic hooks meant that the invasion
was imminent. He spun on his heels and turned toward the door.

There was something different about
flash; Truth could see this clearly. Usually, Flash's feelings were
clear to him. But this time, Flash was opaque. Smoke had also
failed to make contact at the scheduled time. Truth wondered if he
should shake off his suspicions but decided that it would be best
not to. He must be alert.

S
moke had
tasted a glimpse of the beginning of his life. He wanted more.

He had not always been a Gnostic.
The encounter with the image of his mother had stirred his
awareness about his own identity: where he was born, his house, the
warmth in which his family had enveloped him. All of his longing
was focused on the figure of his mother. He wanted to return to the
simulator and was hung up on the illusion that he was pretending to
cooperate.

“Trust your body,” Sophia
instructed Smoke. “Your body will tell you what is right for you. I
directed the control panel in such a way that it will simulate your
internal balance. The red ring of light that you see on the display
represents your balance. The closer you come to your center of
gravity and become more balanced, the smaller the ring will get and
the lower the sounds will become. The less you tremble, the less it
will vibrate and the sounds will become fainter. Close your eyes
and allow the images to wash over your mind! I will monitor your
ring on the display while you listen to the sounds of your
balance.”

Sophia was wary of the fragile
relationship that that they had begun to weave. The fate of the
galaxy was dependent on her ability to develop a relationship with
him. But she quickly remembered the fact that she was no longer
Pythagorean; she was not meant to have all the answers.

“What will I see?” he asked,
secretly hoping that he would begin to see his mother.

“That depends on you. The images
that arise in the simulator emerge out of your consciousness. There
is no reason that you, as a Gnostic, should fear the fruit of the
Tree of Knowledge.”

Despite his doubts, he was drawn to
the simulator like a moth to light. He could not resist it. He
craved more. Smoke listened to the instructions, crossed his legs
on the pillow, straightened his posture and allowed any thought to
come to him. The sound interface immediately reacted with a loud,
strong, piercing sound.

Truth's figure shook Smoke out of
his peace. He opened his eyes and concentrated on the ring of
light, tried to take uniform breaths and balance his composure. The
ring and the sounds relaxed a bit. Smoke closed his eyes again and
listened to the melody that was growing ever fainter. He wanted
quiet.

The melody fell silent. The ring
contracted, floating lightly in space. His brothers in arms
appeared on the display. Gnostic warriors in all shades and sizes,
with unique features and bodies, those who fought alongside him in
blood-drenched battles, with whom he had shared the intoxication of
victory. They all looked sad now. Sophia felt a proud satisfaction
at Smoke's ability to activate the feelings of his imagination.
Later, this ability would serve him in influencing another
consciousness. Like the ring, the figures did not move. The
warriors faded. They became children wearing uniforms. Smoke had
separated from some of them a long time ago, but only now did he
feel the pain of separation. The sounds became fainter.

The industrial backdrop of the
Gnostic world was replaced by the yellow desert on the outskirts of
the compound. Smoke began to rock slightly back and forth. The
audio interface sounded mournful. Sophia looked back and forth from
Smoke's closed eyes to the beating ring. The tones were low,
without vibration.

Smoke's imagination painted a
shining sun onto the ceiling of the simulator. He directed his
closed eyes at the sun. Sophia shaded her eyes from the blinding
light. Spot approached him, wagging his tail. The hyena licked his
hand and returned at a slow trot to the horizon. Smoke smiled
silently. Silence fell upon the desert. The ring had become a tiny
dot and the sounds were silent. The silence lasted a few more long
minutes and the field of vision remained empty. Then, something
began to happen. The snake appeared in the holographic area, with
Smoke's figure alongside him.

Smoke was indifferent to the
appearance of the Master of Light, and for a moment Sophia
mistakenly feared that the simulator had conjured up the snake from
the previous simulation before Smoke had conjure it with his own
mind. The snake slithered slowly and rubbed against Smoke's crossed
legs as they appeared in the holographic area. The snake approached
his right hand. Smoke caressed it while it progressed from his hand
up his arm. Its forked tongue brushed his skin and its head swayed
from side to side, making its way to his upper arm.

When it coiled around Smoke's neck,
Sophia was afraid that the snake would strangle him. After all,
even though it was only a simulation, Smoke could choke if he
imagined himself to be choked. The simulator could be dangerous for
one who did not remember that it was only a simulation. She
continued to glance back and forth from Smoke and the snake on the
display to the flickering ring of light and the real Smoke sitting
before her.

The snake brushed against Smoke's
lips and they parted. It then continued to coil around his head. It
became increasingly longer until it appeared as if it was going to
completely cover Smoke's entire body in its coils. Smoke's face was
relaxed. The ring of light softened. The boundary between the
snake's body and Smoke's body began to blur. Sophia knew that Enosh
was watching them and cast a worried glance at the monitoring
camera in the simulator.

There was now a snake in the place
where Smoke's folded arms and crossed legs had been. Smoke's limbs
were colored in a yellowish shade with the diamond pattern on them.
Although the display showed his body writhing, in reality he was
frozen in place as the ring contracted almost to a dot. The snake
had already conquered the majority of Smoke's body, wrapping itself
around the remainder of him that was still human. Smoke's actual
head was leaning back, his eyes shut. The light in the room dimmed.
The red dot of light was nearly extinguished.

Sophia closely examined the
expression of devotion on Smoke's face. When she looked at the
display, she was sickened at the sight of a snake's head in the
place where Smoke's head ought to have been. Smoke's figure and the
snake's figure flashed on the holographic display. When she looked
again from the actual Smoke to the hologram, she saw neither the
snake's head nor any trace of Smoke. The snake had become one large
writhing loop without a head or tail, with neither beginning nor
end.

Enosh continued to watch Smoke and
Sophia joined him in the control room. “He is coming full circle,”
he explained. “He is entering himself, detaching himself from the
world and undergoing an internal change.”

“Where is this taking him?”

“There is no way of knowing.”

“Should I switch off the
simulator?” asked Sophia.

“No!” he whispered
emphatically.

“This could threaten his life. That
is why we did not bypass your amnesia in the simulator.”

“That is a risk we must take,”
whispered Enosh.

Smoke lay sprawled on his back like
a marionette whose strings had been cut. He continued to appear as
a writhing snake on the display. The snake's movements were
extremely slow. The red dot that reflected Smoke's balance was
still. The sound of his internal balance became a faint hum.

“We're losing him. He might die,”
said Sophia in a panic. “The balance is not supposed to fall to
such dangerously low frequencies.”

Enosh did not respond.

“What will we do?” asked Sophia.
Smoke was unaware of his surroundings. “Maybe we should switch it
off despite everything.”

“No!” said Enosh with firmness that
surprised Sophia. “Not yet.” He softened his tone. “Sophia, does
the display have the ability to show Smoke's vital signs?”

In response to a few finger strokes
on the control panel, the display showed a few signs on breathing
and pulse. They saw how frail Smoke's vital signs were.

“I am switching it off!” said
Sophia, and rose to move toward the control panel.

“No!” yelled Enosh and grabbed
Sophia tightly.

Smoke was still completely detached
from his surroundings.

“You'll kill him!” Sophia screamed,
and tried to free herself from Enosh's grip.

“Don't turn it off! Don't turn it
off!” Enosh repeated emphatically. Enosh understood that his
identification with the snake was an early stage on his path of
separating from the Gnosis. It was likely that Smoke would not
survive such a separation, but there was no choice: risking Smoke's
life was absolutely necessary.