I need to preface this introduction to chapter 4: Stratagem by saying that what I am going for is to share with the reader a fictional essay written about a concern a university Professor has concerning the use of nanotechnology. Telling a story is one thing, writing essays is another, even when they are fictitious. When I publish Heaven I will have a legitimate academic essay written up to replace this one. This is nothing more than an immediate quick write. That said, I hope you understand what I am going for. Thank you.
Also, this chapter represents the pinnacle of procrastination. I had two months to write it and I still found myself feverishly writing the first draft of it in the last hours of January 31. The reason I have committed to posting once a month is to force myself to write, not to be a perfectionist. Please keep that in mind, this is literally the first draft of this chapter. The vision I have for it is what keeps me writing, but what I've posted, especially with this chapter, is the bare bones of my epic tale. It will be much more polished, coherent, and detailed when it is published in book format. Thank you all for understanding. Enjoy.
An Approach to the “Second Enlightenment”: The Second World by Harvard Prof. Wiej Frienham. AD 2065
Since the inception of the practice of nanostocis, that is the willing injection of nanobots capable of reproducing into the circulatory and nervous systems, medical practices have entered a highly problematic realm, and might I say one in which the ancients would have enjoyed contemplating should they, in their first-recognized and wondrous state of enlightenment have been capable of contemplating such things. Though observations can empirically be made, the questions one must now ask are more of a standpoint of where observations are made from. Certainly, science remains science, but are humans human anymore? A Medical Doctor making observations and advances for the human race as seen from the perspective of a biological human, born free from such infusions might suggest a certain treatment for an ailment whereas this new line of humans might suppose that it is indeed better to be as they are and provide nanotech in as many cases as possible. There is certainly a sense that cyborg judgments are propagating a new line of human species in which it promotes its own interests at the expense of its prior human interests; one in which should be criticized and staunchly scrutinized as we are truly at a biological and cosmic crossroads. In other words, the worry is whether or not humans have willingly given up their humanity to indulge in the vices of a manmade technological virus which aids in biological immortality and the sustaining of stasisized individuals. One can imagine millions of years from now a new species looking back upon it’s history and noting, in the same manner how we have noted the extinction of Neanderthal.
Large scale evolution, typically has been thought of by taking countless millennia to give rise to new and unique species in notable ways, however we are driving our evolution so quickly with the advent of technologies that alter our exoskeletons, our brains, and even our genomes. Ushering in the era of chimera children (generation chimera) Salk University, California in the late 10’s, making use of the lift on the ban of federal funding for such questionably unethical experimentation drove home the final decree that we as a human culture will no longer be bound by our biology, but rather be unfettered due to our understanding of the nature of this universe in which we inhabit, by the bounds which theretofore kept us in death and ignorance of the possibilities at hand. Indeed they appear to be endless. And with endless opportunity in the prime of a capitalistic empire, one might ask the question, is there a war going on? Could Homo-Sapiens be the new Neanderthal? Are we destined to die off and change at a rate comparable to those of locust in a corn field changing with every new insecticide that comes along? If so, how then, can a sustainable governing body exist, other than that one Mother Nature offers us, survival of the fittest.
We must wrestle with this as the philosophers of old wrestled with their ensuing enlightenment. But perhaps the greater questions, as has already been mentioned in the previous chapter, arise when nanotech works in conjunction with cryostacise volunteers. It has been reported that what can only be considered mass hallucinations attend the waking minds of those who’ve undergone such extended sounds of sleep. Delusions and hallucinations could hardly be considered abnormal in these sorts of experiments however, it is the mass delusions that seem to be on the rise and have, unbelievably taken on some empirical realities in which goes wholly oblivious to those who’ve not undergone the process, that is abnormal—should I say incredible, or perhaps incredibly disturbing. What is to be meant by this, is that this realm that exists in the minds of those who’ve slept in the safety of robotic precision are meshing or converging into a new reality—say, a new world—one where the threads of memory, dreams, mental illness of every individual participating in this new wave of bio and neuro-enhancement begins to weave into some quantum blanket of consciousness, or so the vast majority would like anyone to believe. It is then to be asked, if all individuals making up a group is experiencing the same phenomena, is it not empirically and objectively a reality that can then be studied by those susceptible to it and those who aren’t? The question could be: What is the cause of a delusion in which is identical for all participants? And one might offer the answer of the term popularized by the punk scene of the infantile twenty-first century Nano-Brains. That is, those who’ve undergone the transformation from regular human to Super-human with the aid of Nano-technology.
Perhaps it is the technology infused in some heretofore unknown manner with human consciousness that is the tool in which empirical data can be probed. It is in some regards similar to the acknowledgment and confirmation of dark matter done by Vera Rubin in the 1970’s, but it is in our own minds that this heretofore unknown matter exists—we know something is happening, but we cannot understand what—we merely see the ghosts of nanotech. The transference of information between two or multiple bio-computers synced with biological brains creates an encompassing “aura” what has been coined by Professor Tallbot as group-ghost-think (GGT) in which real entities are reported. These entities are experiences or phenomena that exist only to those who are a part of the synchronized group (those who’ve been infused with self replicating nanobots), while exterior observers who’ve undergone no such biotechnical enhancements or nano-fusion find no evidence of transference of inter-information sharing. It is as if a new world unfolds to the test subjects while it remains oblivious to those outward observers who remain incapable of probing this new reality. You could call it a second world. This remains differentiated from the effects of psychedelics as there are no reports of immense pleasure, enhanced senses, or a sensation of being one with the universe, or “seeing God”, but rather the experiencers are merely seeing and experiencing common, everyday things that in-deed are not observable for the “out-crowd”. And it is real to them. In essence a rift is occurring, one more deeply fundamental than has ever occurred in the processes of evolution through natural selection, and one in where the consequences are further reaching than has ever been known in the course of human events, for the question at hand now is, what is a human, and it can than be conjoined to the age old question, what then, is reality if it is not what a person sees, hears, smells, feels and experiences? This is the question we must define as we evolve toward a synthetic future, one where those who propagate the furtherance of this new evolution—or revolution are henceforth choosing for their offspring to be, yes, a different species of hominid from their predecessors who choose not to undertake this coming technology into their selves—indeed, an almost Godlike species, one in which does not die, one in which is linked to a common mind, one in which, can merely think conversations with others—and one in which passes on, not only its genes to it’s offspring, but also its tech, but also one in which shares a new world, one that is invisible to the “out-crowd” for better or worse.
One thing is certain, the longer one who has undertaken this technology remains in stasis the more lost (or found) an individual becomes, or perhaps, as it is argued, the more in-sync one becomes with a group or shared objective universe which remains unseen by their fellow biological puritans. Test subjects infused with nanotechnology have undergone years in stasis without any major repercussions on the mental and neurological health of individuals, however it’s been noted that once one begins to sleep beyond six years uncertainty as to the wellbeing of the individual arises. It is recommended that no longer than a five years period should be undergone. There is no telling to what extent the mind can withstand the whims of technology which has all of the traits of what some would define as a virus. After all, did not the first to become self-aware “see things” that were invisible to their predecessors?
Darkly, I finalize this essay with a notion that, should it prove truthful, I offer the final paragraph as the test of my hypothesis, as if it should be true, my work shall be found in no libraries or databases in the decades to come hence forth as it would offer too much of a threat to, yes, the invisible and insidious programers behind the technology in which we, as a culture, as a people united by our biology as Homo-sapiens have surrendered our agency. This dark matter in our minds that give rise to this GGT is the product of the ends of extreme corporate greed unbound by law or directive and run amok with unbridled ethics. This dark matter in the mind are the earmarks of unfettered corporate branding. The species that has emerged from the slums of all derogatory filth and have thrown off the shackles of slavery in mind, spirit and, body to build empires, and gain wealth by the sweat of our brow, are once again, by the hands of the invisible and self actualized gods—or programmers of this new popular trend, enslaved.
…
“Just reading, dear, Tre, perusing the archives of Old-Earth.” Abradm’s eyes buzzed up and down and he scrolled through a hefty list of thousands of entries under Prof. Wiej Frienham.
“Old Earth.” He repeated under his breath. “My apologies, that was my brother speaking.”
If there is something that is old, would it not follow that there is something that is new?
Abradm shuffled his feet upon the dirt under his weight and breathed regretfully.
“There is nothing any creature on this world could do to stop my people from taking it for our own.” He said with an air of unease while he thumbed a piece of clear and durable material that he had pulled from the dirt.
Feeling this strange material he thought on that the poor, young soldier whom he had convinced he was a god. In the days that followed, however, it became apparent that the soldier had indeed accomplished his task of convincing his peers to mend the pully system, and those poor souls of the abysm had their food restored to them—for better or for worse. To be sure, however, Abradm could rest a little easier and his strength came back one day at a time. The irreligious rhetoric he had engaged in days before weighed heavy on his heart, but he pressed forward all the same. Sighing under his breath and gazing longingly under a spell of august stupor before the verdant landscape all before him he calibrated his compass, torquing his head to one side and then another, moving the text from his visual cortex back into the invisible worlds of Heaven’s database.
“Shall we?” He asked aloud moving on from his philosophical limbo, his words catching on the cool breeze.
And little Tre’s voice, now more common and comfortable came which he heard clearly in both ears, “We shall. To the Sea of Tuschach.”
He gazed up and there was Heaven gleaning in the light of the star trekking across the midday sky. A thought came: How many, if any at all on this strange planet, which he had without thinking alluded to being New Earth, had begun to observe Heaven orbiting their world, and what, if anything, they took from it. There are soldiers and villages, he reckoned, surely there must be scientists or astronomers, or even more interesting astrologers or magi! he thought. Where this world was was so far a mystery as he’d only glimpsed the surface once or twice from his exalted view from Heaven before the rapid half hazard and unfortunate descent into hell. And he’d only ever been exposed to the lowest of their life, one precious gift, and a terrified young soldier since being on the surface. The world was before him, his people were asleep in Heaven and he had no means of contacting them. His desires were so far removed as to be held as impossible and he rued his lot secretly. He wept for his brethren in the still dew of every morning. How could it be that Heaven was so close, observing it every few days pass over head, yet so far. Though preoccupied on impossible plans in the background, almost as contingencies in a fantasy novel he wrote the code and plans for how he would return to Heaven one day, yet there was no immediate means to do so, he began to make plans for the long stay he would have to endure on the surface. What was he to do in the mean-time? And for that matter he thought curiously for the first time, what was the actual name of this world?
“What do you call this place, dear Tre?” He spoke into the cool air, a tone of stoicism returning.
“What place?”
“The place on which we stand.”
“This is the kingdom of Cesramin.”
“No, I mean the world in which we are.” Abradm had a thought and strolled over to a small tree, alone and standing free from the others.
“All of the land?”
“Yes.”
She said no words for a moment and Abradm held back a smile as she torqued her head to one side and then another like him when in thought, “Well,” she started, “I have heard stories of the lands beyond cesramene, the Atheneum which we possess as our destination lies beyond the sea in which we endeavor. I do not know what that land should be called or all the land that encompasses, perhaps we will find the answer in the books of the atheneum.
“Perhaps we shall, but are you to mean that you’ve no word that describes this globe of which orbits Ocernes?”
“A globe? Orbits Ocernes? I might say it’s T9-12.”
“Trearshimeen. Why would you say that? Have I called it that?” Abradm remembered the name his people used to refer to this obscure planet hiding in the Ashur System, which remained always the contingency to Breana, that planet which ushered in the war in Heaven, which ultimately lead Abradm to Trearshimeen.
Trearshimeen paused, “Yes, I suppose you have said that once or twice.”
“But that is not what you call it.”
“I don’t know.”
“What lies beyond the horizon?”
“More land, I suppose. More kingdoms. More mountains and water.”
“Does it ever end?”
“I suppose it goes on forever.”
“Forever?”
“Yes.”
“Tre.”
“Yes.”
“What would happen if you walked in a straight line for a hundred years.” Abradm pointed at the horizon toward a large silhouette of a tree swaying upon the peak of the mountain while standing near to the little tree.
“I should think that a regular person might answer ‘I would die before I got to my destination’ but I might answer that I would be very far from here.”
“Do you suppose you might end up where you started at any point?”
“How would that be possible if I am moving away from this point for one hundred years?”
“If you were to take one step in front of the other and continue to do so, remaining straight forward even if the oceans and seas get in your way, would you believe me if I told you that you would one day return to where you started?”
“I do not see how this is possible, I would have to be walking in a circle.”
“Indeed you would be.”
“But you said that I should walk in a straight line.”
“Yes, however, it is not you who should be walking in a circle, but it is the very fabric of space that bends your straight line to return back upon itself.”
“I do not understand.”
“I have thought that maybe it is not apparent to the people of this world that the land you see before you does not go on in a straight line, but rather it curves in all directions forming a ball.”
“So it is impossible for me to walk in a straight line.”
“No, you could, but you would return to where you started.”
“No, if what you say is true than the moment I took one step, I then would cease to be walking in a straight line as i would be walking upon the surface of a sphere. I would have to learn to fly, and flying, my dear Abradm, is not walking.”
“You never cease to amaze me, Tre.” Abradm said softly. “The history of Earth suggests that most in the time frame in which it appears your world exists would argue incessantly that a sphere remains unlikely, perhaps they might argue that the world resided upon the back of a giant Tortoise. Yet, here you are trying to fly, perhaps like an Eagle!”
“I am not familiar with what Tortoises and Eagles are, but if I could fly, maybe then I could get you back to Heaven.”
Abradm took a breath in surprise. He sighed longingly, “You think too much of fantasy, but rest assured there is a way. But it is a ways off.”
“I know.” Tre smiled sincerely.
“Do you see this tree?” Abradm gently brushed his hand over its young and tender leaves.”
“Yes.”
“Observe its shadow.”
“I see it upon the grass jutting forward and away.”
“But where would you say its shadow is?”
“It is on the ground.”
“Indeed, it is, but it is also opposite Osernes. Shadows remain on the side in which light is not. As you observe Osernes cross the sky you will notice the shadow will round the base of the tree forever remaining our of sight of the light.”
“What does this mean?”
“Have you ever considered what the nature of light is, dear Tre?”
“I know that light gives us life, it warms the earth, and feeds the trees.”
“Certainly, yes. But in what manner does light move?”
“I am not sure, why are you asking me these question?”
“Let me ask you one more question. What do you know?”
“I do not know how to answer that question. Well, actually, I certainly know that I am hungry.”
Abradm smiled. “It is difficult to know anything for certain. The growls of one’s stomach might be an exception. Yet, there are things which can help us understand the place around us.”
“And you are going to say that light helps us understand.”
“I am going to say that things that are unwavering help us build a baseline in which we can build a body of knowledge upon, all of which, however remain contingent upon that baseline. And as you can see by the shadow that creeps around the base of this tree in harmony with the movements of of Osernas, light moves always in a straight line. You can learn a lot by things that are unwavering in their nature. You can learn a lot by things that move unwaveringly straight forward.”
“So what does this tree and it’s shadow cast by the power of Osernes teach us.”
“Imagine for a moment that this twig is the tree,” Abradm took a twig and stuck it straight up into the soft dirt below, all the while holding tight to that strange durably and clear material “and imagine that I am Osernes for the moment.”
“For one who so adamantly refutes his godhood, you certainly pretend to be one often enough.”
“Never-mind that, Tre,” Abradm continued and turned the lights of his eyes on, and even in midday it cast a shadow from the twig he had stuck in the ground.
“If I move across the top of this twig, you see the shadow move as well.”
“Yes, just like if we were to sit and watch for a long time the shadow of the tree would round its base as Osernes crosses the sky.”
“Now watch.”
Abradm slowly directed his gaze directly downward upon the twig and it cast no shadow.”
“What can you know from this experiment?”
“There is no shadow when Osernes shines directly overhead.”
“Exactly. But look, the stone near to but not quite exactly underneath my view IS casting a shadow.”
Trearshimeen and her genius spoke up quickly and excitedly, “So, if we can find a place where a stick casts no shadow under the light of Osernes, we know that it is directly overhead.”
“And because we also know that light moves in a straight line, we can thusly determine the circumference of the globe in which we stand by measuring the shadows of nearby objects.”
“Oh, Abradm, that is only if the world is indeed round. You have told me it is, but you haven’t shown how one can know that it is by way of observing the light. How should we know that the world is actually round?”
Abradm smiled with a smile he hadn’t smiled for years at Tre’s incredible insights and natural wonder, “One step at a time.”
The two said nothing for many moment afterward. And after a long pause and in the spirit of straight lines Abradm began to walk forward. Trearshimeen followed. He walked until Ocernes got low in the sky. He continued through the night straight forward until the sun rose again in the west. He continued to walk, a map of the world impressing upon his mind moment after moment guiding his steps. He walked for a day. A day turned into a week, and he slept not at all, and the week turned into a month And it was in the second month of his sojourn with little Trearshimeen that upon a royal highway which cut through the hills with paved limestone, they encountered a rather startling and uncommon caravan. Caravans ran the gamut across the empire regularly trading goods and issuing letters from one district to another’s domain, all in the attempt to maintain a certain cohesion. Yet this caravan was led by a royal escort. In fact, when Abraham had laid eyes on it from his concealed local in the lush hills he noted immediately that there were a few of his kind. Three of them lead the way riding the largest breeds the countrymen could offer, and sitting erect in their saddles a good many heads above the royal guards in the train. It was led by one in particle, and Abradm held his tongue. It was Hopi.
“Trearshimeen.” He said quickly arousing her from sleep, Heaven blazing overhead—the clear material in his hand still.
“What is it?”
“Come quickly, do you see those horsemen?”
“Yes. those are the royal guard.” She spoke with fear. “Those are the outfits that came to my place and took me. They took my father.”
“The guards of the King of Cesrimeen?”
“Yes.”
“Are you familiar with the leaders of the caravan?”
“No, they look as tall as you, Adeohre.”
“Indeed. They are of my kind. The king that you see, that is my brother.” Abradm spoke with great solemnity and concern as his thoughts had been confirmed.
“What are we to do?”
Abradm thought hard for a moment, “We are to let them pass. We will not interfere.”
“But that is your brother,” Trearshimeen spoke with innocent concern.
Abradm’s brow intensified and the leaves rustled. He repeated, “We will not interfere.”
Then suddenly Abradm was taken off guard. A voiced echoed in his head and it reverberated like a hollow bell ringing in the town square.
Brother. Are you there?
Abradm froze, “Oh my God.” he said aloud.
“I thought you said to speak no more of the gods.” Trearshimeen interjected in confusion with certain tears in her eyes.
Abradm, speak to me. Surely you are there.
Then suddenly Hopi on the tallest horse rounded the mountain ridge. He was clad in royalties garb with a long silver sword at his hilt. And what’s more, there was Archea, a tall and long blond haired brother of Heaven. He wore a pale and gloomy face, almost deathly. A train of twenty horsemen followed him. Abradm watched stunned at what his eyes behold.
Hopi, with a slow walk, raised his arm and halted the train, “forgive me, Goloben, I am going to take a walk. Let the men rest.”
Hopi strolled out of the train and began to distance himself from the rest. He walked away, not to be seen by his followers.
Hopi left the group, and threw off his purple cape to reveal a sleek body armor made of the finest metal and craftsmanship.
Abradm, are you there? The words echoed once again. Hopi distanced himself from the group and snaked his way under and around some brush off of the highway.
Abradm watched from a safe distance but held his thoughts, scrutinizing his brother as he moved throughout the trees. Finally he let on: I am here, Hopi. What are you doing?
Hopi stopped immediately and swung his head around in astonishment as he gasped.
So, you are alive. He smiled. Now I don’t have to be disappointed in you. Hopi thought.
Abradm remained calm. There was no way Hopi could spot him from his position.
Hopi scoffed out-loud, When will you realize that you cannot save everyone. Surely you would have known that by now. He thought loudly and gestured to the sky while he looked around the mountainous and green terrain searching the scene for Abradm.
Abradm clenched his teeth.
Aren’t you going to say anything? Hopi thought quietly.
Still Abradm transmitted no thoughts. He had no understanding of what to think.
Ok, Abe, if you must know, I’ve been searching for you. I’ve come to ask your forgiveness. I’m sure you can see by now that I’ve done quite well for myself. They’ve made me King of Cesramine! Hopi laughed aloud. In fact, I am a god to them!
“Adeorhee.” Tre said softly touching his hand.
“Shhh. Tre. give me a moment.” Abradm said softly.
Abradm remained silent gazing from his concealed hight about Hopi’s acquired men. There were horsemen and there was a line of what looked to be slaves. They carried on, dark skinned, chained at the ankles in misery.
Abradm: Hopi. What are you doing?
Hopi: I am living, brother. I am beginning to think that you would you have preferred we died!
Abradm: We were not prepared for this. We had no contingency.
Hopi: The contingency is LIFE. It’s to live. To keep our heritage sound and our decedents continuing!
Abradm: Life. As life of the men you were to kill. Or the life of those men in shackles behind your steed.
Hopi: Brother, you have to understand. We are in a world of custom far removed from ours. I fully intend to bring equality to all. But, believe it or not, I am in quite the interesting position and must play my cards correct.
Abradm: What do you mean?
Hopi: Brother.
Abradm made no transmission and gazed with wet eyes toward the man whom he called brother, once. He made no reply.
Brother. Hopi repeated. Have you considered how all of this is possible? Just look around. Does this place remind you of anywhere? Perhaps you’ve forgotten. It certainly has been awhile. I’ve often wondered of how any of this can even be in contrast to all that we know of the universe.
Abradm just listened. Tre gently grabbed his hand in silence. He glanced down at her and a tear fell from his eye. It landed upon the crown of her head while she nuzzled into him.
Hopi continued: I mean. Not only are they humanoid, they look just like us. Other than being slightly shorter, which from our own history you can easily account for by nutrition. The plants look the same, the animals are almost identical. For hells sake, I’m riding a horse, Abradm! A Horse. But they call them Curaws. Oh, I wonder, have you heard they’re language. It isn’t too different from Latin. Forgive me. I am just thinking in open transmission. But, brother, talk to me like we used to. God damnit Abradm, the universe was ours when we talked. There was no stopping our combined genius. What do you have to say about all of this world. It’s incredible how like Earth it is. Speak to me. Brother.
Abradm finally transmitted: There are a few options. He thought cautiously.
Perhaps life has no choice but to evolve in like manner as that of which we are accustomed. Perhaps the only way for intelligent life to arise is to undergo the evolution in which we ourselves have undergone. And perhaps it is common.
Hopi thought up:
Or perhaps we have happened upon an Emerald Lake!
Abradm: You cannot even begin to imagine how unlikely that is, if not impossible all together.
Hopi: But of course you thought of it as well. You had to, Abradm! to consider all options before you. I know you.
Hopi swung his arms about, smiling, his purple cape swirling around him in excitement.
Abradm: 3. Or perhaps an ancient race seeded the universe in the image of which we exist.
Yes. Hopi agreed. Or… He stopped and there was a defining silence.
Have you thought of another possibility, brother. I’m sure you have. Hopi transmitted in a dull tone as if coxing a common thought between the two of them.
Abradm tightened his grip upon Trearshimeens little hand and he thought very carefully over her innocence and uniqueness before he thought again.
Abradm, looking as puppy, sad in the absence of his friend, toward Tre, thought up: 4. Or perhaps, we are dreaming.
Hopi: Only you, brother, would receive a gift of a thousand lifetimes and question its validity with a legitimate concern that you might be asleep. Hopi laughed.
Abradm: You had the same thought.
Hopi: Only but for a moment, and only in perspective of your analysis. Can you not tell when you are awake, dear Brother!
Abradm: I wonder if any of us can, he thought barely transmitting.
Abradm stared at the beautiful Tre before him and gripped her and tightly.
Hopi: I marvel at your professed concern with the philosophies. However, nevermind your fantasies. Abradm, we have an opportunity the likes the universe has never seen!
Abradm held his thoughts and his demeanor fell as he returned into the reality that was not the memories of incredible conversations he’d had with his brother. He knew Hopi’s thoughts before he thought them.
Abradm: I will not entertain your megalomaniacal agendas. Have you no concern for our directive. The one in which we all swore to uphold with our lives.
Hopi: I was hoping that the time since I last saw you, that you would have had an opportunity to change your thoughts. Surely you’ve seen the inhabitants of this world by now. They could use a lift. And we can lift them into a future that would better countless millions of lives.
Abradm: Who are you to say that we can better their lives?
Hopi: This noninterference directive of yours is outdated and may as well been a death sentence. Image the rest of Heaven fleet dying out there in that cold abyss because they wouldn’t land on an inhabited planet. We had no choice but to settle on this world! It is forever beyond me how the alternative is one you would have preferred. We were dying. We had no choice. And if it were not for me—what would have happened? You would have sent us back into that abyss where we would have died freezing to death in our pods in deep space on our way to another damned world! That is no way for a god to lose his life! And certainly it is on YOU if they die up there, Abe!
Abradm: What are you going to do with this world?
Hopi: It is not what I am going to do to this world, it is what I have already begun. Within the decade electricity will power this continent. And the one after that, the world. I will usher in an enlightenment the likes the universe has never before seen. And Heaven will be attainable not within the decade, Abradm, but within years. I’ve already men mastering the art of metallurgy in schools I’ve set up to build the skeleton of a shuttle, I’ve already men drilling out for oil to power it’s engines. Abradm, I have the power to get to Heaven. To save our family. Surely you are aware of the failing backup generators aboard. They will only last for a few more years. With your help, Abradm, we can get there in less than two, in plenty of time to get back and set Heaven safely with all of people. You can redeem yourself, Abradm.
Abradm’s mind raced to the ends of the universe and Athena flooded his mind. Abradm: You have the manpower to obtain all the materials needed to construct a shuttle?
Hopi: I do.
Abradm: By what means are they being compelled to work for you, the same as those who’re chained behind you?
Hopi: Abradm. Brother. What does it matter! Our people are in imminent peril. We’ve no way to keep our blood clean unless we get to Heaven before there cells switch off. Do you understand what I am saying? Think of Athena for God’s sake.
Abradm: You’ve staged a coup, you’re building a shuttle program in a world where its inhabitants still don’t understand germ theory, and you’re doing it all on the backs of hundreds of thousands of slaves. And you are parading around as a god. I, nor Athena will partake in creating this legacy for our people.
Abradm wept out a cry of peril known only to those who’ve ever had to choose life or death on behalf of a loved one.
Hopi: You hypocritical, self-righteous bastard. Do you think news of immaculate godlike creatures escapes my ears. Could it be that the son of Osernas appeared to one of my soldiers a few months back at the pit in which I left you. Might that be you, brother?
The weakness of an infernal lie that had been plaguing abradm since he had told it to that soldier at the pit almost immediately returned in one fell swoop as Hopi pressed it one again upon his conscience.
Hopi: If you do not join me in this instant, brother, when I return to Heaven and rescue our people, it shall be noted of you that you betrayed them. If you do not already understand the bitterness and blackness of hell, you will, as Athena remembers your name as the traitor who turned his back on her. Join me. It is the only way.
Abradm: Go your way brother. Go your way. End transmission.
Hopi returned to his cavalcade furious and continued on his way while Abradm remained concealed in the hills above. He had left the cave months ago, but it remained in him, ceaselessly stifling any sensations of wholeness. He was shattered, and he was incomplete. Only Tre in her innocence comforted him, and the thought of Athena sleeping in Heaven, which now was of immense concern.
Abradm stayed in the trees that night lost in endless thought barely able to speak a word. Hours went by, Hopi had been long gone, and Tre spoke.
“Abradm. Abradm. Speak to me.”
“Yes, Tre.”
“You’ve a message from Heaven”
“What? How do you know that.”
“I mean, your eyes are blinking green.” She whispered in the still of the night.
Abradm tweaked his head to one side and immediately saw the message. It was a Chess Request by none other than Hopi being transmitted from Heaven which still blinked overhead in the night sky.
“It’s the game we left unfinished before we fell.” He whispered, and then suddenly his mind was taken up into the game room where each piece stood where it had before the descent, that is with the exception of the black knight which he had legally moved to square d7.
Abradm carefully looked around, and at each piece, confirming that no piece had change illegally. He remember it well. It was the last real conversation he held with his brother.
“What is this, Abradm?”
To Abradm’s surprise, there stood Trearshimeen amidst the game board. Yet, he made no attempt to enquire into her mystery, and he answered.
“This is a game called chess. And I already know my next move.” He thought it and: Confirm. Suddenly his Bishop moved from square e3 to h6.
“Is you bishop safe in this spot?”
“No, in fact, surely Hopi will take it with his own Bishop when he plays.”
“Why then, would you move it there, knowing you would lose it?”
“Because the bishop is protected by my Queen.” He pointed to square d2 where the beauty of an immaculate royalty stood draped in a flowing dress.
Tre stood in admiration, “She is beautiful. What can she do?”
“My queen?” Abradm inquired.
“Yes.”
Softly he spoke, “She can move in any direction in a straight line.”
“Your Queen is your baseline.” Tre said matter of factly.
“She is.”
“Abradm. Speak to me.” Tre shook Abradm.
“What is it, Tre?”
“What is that in your hand?”
“What?” He looked down and noticed that Tre had seen the material he’d been thumbing for quite sometime.
“What is that?”
“Oh, it’s polyethylene.”
“What?”
“Trearshimeen.” He looked sternly into her large eyes and spoke with wide eyes himself perhaps the most profound words he’d uttered since he’d landed on the planet, “It’s plastic.”