Mesopotamia - The Redeemer (41 page)

From a deep gash,

Came the Jordan River.

And from the Jordan River came the
pure waters

Of the Euphrates, Tigris, Pishon
and Gihon.

In destruction and ruination, out
of the radiant light and the pure waters,

I came into being,

Trembling and suffering flesh.

Suffering is the foundation of
creation,

Pleasure is the foundation of the
Creator.

Even then, Diotima had been unusual
among the faculty of the Higher Academy of Ancient Cultures. Her
red hair and freckled face were an accurate reflection of her inner
flame and her enthusiasm for small details that appeared
insignificant to others. She spent her free time in the archives,
poring over ancient tablets in Sumerian, Akkadian and Babylonian.
These were the ancient relics that had been rescued from the fires
that had ravished the Earth during the Human-Gods' Wars. She knew
how many shekels a sack of barley cost, how many goats equaled one
plowing bull and the equivalent of a slave in donkey loads. She
knew the placement of the God Shamash in the sky and what time each
irrigation canal was opened and closed. Thanks to her mastery of
ancient theology as well as technical economic details, she
transitioned well from academics to politics. What fascinated her
above all else in her study of ancient cultures was the same
concept that attracted her to politics. Deep down, she knew that
underneath all of the cultural, chronological and geographical
differences between groups of people, people were really not all
that different from each other. Civilizations rise and fall but
human needs remain constant. Politics afforded her an opportunity
to show people the similarities beneath the differences. It was a
perfect opportunity to apply her knowledge.

She progressed in her political
career because she was adept at identifying the minute changes in
the cultural climate of the Atheists in Dust and in turn fashion
symbolic systems that would provide an appropriate response to the
changes in the population's needs.

She had studied about the Gnosis,
the modern successors to the Sumerians. She was familiar with the
writings of the Ginza Rabba and recognized various schools of
Gnostic influences in Truth's speech: the ancient creation myth,
the 'World of Darkness' of the school of Seth, the 'First Man' hymn
of the Ophites and primarily the sanctity of the Jordan River in
the Mandaean worldview. In the meantime, she held off on her plan
to interject on the audio-visual system

“Release the first safety,” she
told Bruno.

“Smoke! Are you with us?” asked
Truth.

“I am Gnostic,” he replied.

Truth felt a sense a relief. For
the first time, he gave a thought to the burden that rested on his
shoulders. But his peace quickly vanished as Smoke continued to
speak.

“If by 'Gnostic', you mean striving
for knowledge and truth, then I am a Gnostic. If the relationships
between us turn us into partners in the Gnostic community, then I
am a Gnostic. If the mission of annihilation defines me as a
Gnostic, then I am not a Gnostic. Are you a Gnostic, Truth?”

“Of annihilation?” said Truth
incredulously, refusing to believe his own ears.

“I choose life, life for us all,”
he said calmly.

“Traitor!” roared Truth
angrily.

“Had I continued to deny my
knowledge, then I would be a traitor, a traitor to myself. Had I
continued to work toward the annihilation of all of us, including
you, Truth, then I would also be betraying you.”

Flash watched and listened to the
scene from his commanding position in the ship. “Commander,” he
whispered into Truth's ears though the audio-visual device, “any
additional word that Smoke utters will harm our forces'
integrity.”

Truth did not heed Flash. He was
absorbed in digesting Smoke's stinging betrayal. He had no choice:
he must sentence his chosen deputy, Smoke, to death. 'I have no
other choice,' he repeated to himself. 'The sanctity of the Gnostic
law must come first.'

“The punishment for the traitor is
death by public execution. Your skin will be peeled from your body.
You shall have no place in the presence of the Master of Light!”
hissed Truth with threatening coldness, but he was seized by
horror. When he imagined the heavenly pleroma, he no longer felt a
sense of ecstatic elation that he used to feel. For the first time,
his vision paled in the face of pain. He must kill his chosen
one.

'No one can predict what will
happen now,' thought Enosh. The same thought occurred to Sophia.
She thought, however, that it was notable that in the course of the
seconds that had passed, Truth could have easily killed Gabriel
with his own hands, but he chose not to.

After thinking briefly for a few
moments, Truth stated, “The Gnostic forces are here. The module is
here. We will all soon be released from our material prisons.”

The Gnostic forces cheered. “In the
darkness of the material world, we shall know the light!”

“But not before we bring justice to
the traitor!” continued Truth.

Sophia saw her life measured out
before her in ever-fleeting minutes and seconds.

'Had he not loved me, he would have
killed me straight away,' thought Gabriel.

“With all due respect, Commander,
we have gotten this far. Our mission takes precedence,” whispered
Flash.

“No!” said Truth. “We must not
wait. We must remove the traitor from our midst and stand pure and
innocent in the pleroma among the aeons and the Master of
Light.”

“So kill him now and we'll condemn
him later,” hissed Flash, burning with vengeance. “We can condemn
him without him being there, as our predecessors have done, and
classify him as a condemned one whose name has been erased.”

“Shut up, Flash, you are trying my
patience,” said Truth on his personal communication device. The
official order he gave contradicted his feelings. This was one of
the most difficult decisions of his life.

“Smoke will appear for the
condemnation ritual and will have his say so that all of the
Gnostic forces can hear him and know that he is a heretic,” sad
Truth in the characteristic coolness of a believer. “All Gnostic
warriors: cheer loudly for our victory today!” Truth cried out
passionately.

Loud cheers and the song of victory
boomed from the audio-visual system:

With the Redeemer's Tablet

With the Tablet of Uruk

Our purpose is to free

The kingdom of Earth

To the empire of the heavens.

The voices died down as Truth
continued. “Listen, all Gnostic heroes! Smoke was one of us. One of
our most dedicated and best men. But not anymore. He was drawn away
and converted by our bitter enemies, Orpheus' cursed Pythagoreans.
We all believed in him but his faith was weak and the witch
ensnared him in her web. He betrays the Master of Light and he
betrays us, his own brothers. I ask you, what is his sentence?”

The voices of the pilots rose from
the audio-visual system like a roaring wave: “Condemnation! Death
to the traitor!”

Enosh and Sophia felt their insides
turning over, but Gabriel remained calm.

“The condemnation ritual has
commenced. Smoke, I entrusted our sacred mission to you. Our most
talented evasive pilot succeeded in slipping away from us as well.
You were but a small step away from standing with us in the
heavenly pleroma. Alas, you were brought down by the charms of the
female, the Pythagorean woman.”

Sophia felt Truth's hatred and the
raging wrath of the Gnostic soldiers and was shaken.

“We do not strive toward
destruction, rather toward liberation,” continued Truth, “and we
must therefore first free ourselves from this illness, from you.
According to the Gnostic tradition, you have the right to make
yourself heard before we remove the material encasing of your
soul.” His upper lip trembled. The tattooed spots on his face stood
out against his skin, which had become pale.

Gabriel was calm. Even though he
knew that it was likely that his end was near, he felt alive with a
vitality that he had not felt in years. He was prepared to die for
the chance that he may sustain life within Truth and his Gnostic
brothers. This readiness put him at peace. He knew that the only
chance he had for his message to really penetrate their hearts was
to express himself in a manner that was utterly free and devoid of
any fear, any falsehood or any obligation to another purpose.

“I am not Smoke. My name is
Gabriel!”

“Death to Smoke!” someone cried out
on the audio-visual system.

“Death to Smoke!” echoed the
others.

“Silence!” said truth. The voices
quieted slightly.

“My name is Gabriel. That was the
name that was given to me by my mother and father. That is my birth
name. I heard a message from the Master of Light!” Gabriel
proceeded quietly, with surprising strength. “It was a silent
message in which I could clearly hear my own voice.” He breathed
deeply and continued. “I understood that knowledge does not come
from a position of authority. I love you with all of my heart,
Truth, but even your authority is not the source of myself
awareness. This is the kind of knowledge that no one else outside
myself can verify.”

Silence fell over the listeners;
they all listened to his words with interest. Gabriel continued to
speak. “I entreat those true Gnostics among you, those who are
willing to look inward and hear their own voices without the
support of authority. Throughout our lives, each one of us
struggles with escaping from the darkest depths of our souls. We
are Gnostic warriors. I cast no doubt on our determination and our
vigor. Have you ever wondered, though, what portion of that
strength is used to ignore our pain and longing? We are humans
before we are Gnostics. Examine your souls and you will see that
this is our nature as human beings.”

The noise rose again. Gabriel took
it as a sign of encouragement.

“Death to the traitor!” interjected
Flash on the audio-visual system. “Don't let him utter even one
more deceitful word!”

“Silence!” commanded Truth, and his
pain gushed forth from the small crack that had begun to break down
his walls. “Let the rebel talk. Obey the law.”

“We all feel the pain. We all feel
it separately, alone. We feel fear but do not share our fear with
others. We give respect to our brothers and leaders, but not just
respect. Dare to see the other emotions that exist inside your
souls.”

“Our obligation to the sacred
Gnosis and the Master of Light is what motivates us—not our
feelings,” said Truth, but the rock-solid confidence that had
colored his voice earlier was now gone.

“I do not believe in a divine power
that commands us to fulfill his desires,” continued Gabriel in a
firm tone. “I do not believe in the centrality of the Gnostic
concept of nothingness that hides your desires from you. The truth
is greater and more powerful than all of us. I am telling you the
truth, the truth that I personally experienced with my own flesh.
The mission of destruction is a mistake!”

Smoke's words seeped like acid
through Truth's iron armor. The cracks that had begun to appear in
his consciousness undermined his confidence. Something inside of
him wanted to go and lock himself alone with his sharp point and
comfort himself in the familiarity of physical pain, his favorite
substitute for emotion. In the meantime, the audio-visual system
roared and rumbled with impassioned voices that would not let
Gabriel finish his speech. From the din he could distinguish a
voice here and there, calling out clearly, “Death to the traitor!
Silence the scum!” “Why doesn't Truth stop him? Kill him at once!”
Many other thoughts were not given expression.

“Shh...” Truth uttered calmly and
patiently until the clamor subsided. “Say your last words before
you are condemned!” He felt that he was losing his grip on the
justification of his claims and wanted to finish the ritual as soon
as possible.

Gabriel turned directly to Truth.
“What is your personal truth, Truth?”

“I am not the one on trial
here.”

“Your personal Truth is your love
for all of us. Your love for me.”

With increasingly suffocating
unease rising in his chest, Truth knocked Gabriel to the floor with
a single blow to his face. The Gnostics were in shock: their leader
had lost control and had unmistakably broken the rules of the
ceremony.

Flash realized that this was his
chance. With his outburst of unbridled violence, that obvious
violation of the sacred rules of the condemnation ritual, Truth had
declared his surrender. He ceased to be the revered dispassionate
leader that he once was. Flash took advantage of the uproar in the
simulator, left his post in the control ship and entered Samos on
his solo craft. On the secret communication channel of the
Brotherhood of Purity, he announced, “The leader has broken.
Prepare for action.”

Gabriel stood to his feet in order
to complete his mission, to tell them what he needed to say and to
reach them before his words were swallowed in the commotion. “You
too, my audience: you too have acted out of love. Are you afraid to
admit it? Truth, I know that you do not want to peel off my skin;
for what is the source of your love if not the body, the material
that you are commanded to destroy?”

Enosh lifted his eyes and looked
directly into Gabriels'. Gabriel raised his voice and could barely
speak over the din. “My Gnostic brothers, you are not so different
from the rest of humanity, those who openly reveal their love.”

With his veins popping out of his
temples, but with a soft voice, Truth looked painfully at Smoke.
“Enough!” said Truth and the voices in the audio-visual system
quieted.