“Tell me all about it later, ehn?" she whispered and drifted off to sleep.
"Sure," Netu mumbled as Lina resumed her faint snoring.
Netu could not sleep for a length of time. He rummaged unend through his mind for answers to his dream. The dream had an ominous quality. It bellied any superficial interpretation he could give it. He could easily deduce from the delicate ending of their cruise in the yacht the dream’s ominous quality. Without a shred of doubt, a stark revelation of Lina’s near future role in the wondrous cruise of his ship of destiny. This he believed for the facts were clear. She had pledged to hold the forte for him while he fought at strange frontiers. This she did without blemish through their sail across the sea. But in the canal, she had acted differently with her insistence on sending the other members of the team home at the first harbor in sight. And his assent to her demand resulted in the engine’s malfunction, which lulled and almost killed the spirit of the sail. This duplicity of purpose puzzled him about Lina.
Why Lina insisted he should stop at the harbour and discharge their comrades with the impassiveness one would accord only a drift log, he could never fathom. Were they vermin of some kind out for his flesh, whose pretence he was dumb enough not to see? Who exactly were they? What meaning would he ascribe to Lina's motive? He stared restlessly without focus. He gave the dream due analysis until he exhausted all angles to the metaphor and respite came in sleep.
When they woke two hours later, Lina reminded him of his promise during the night. "What sort of dream did you say you had in the night?”
“We’ll talk about it later,” Netu placated needing time to think it over.
"If that’s what you want, I’ll wait," she replied.
Ensconced on Lina’s bed after breakfast, Netu reminisced on the delicate aspects of the dream.
"Certain aspects of the dream I can understand but not why you said the others should disembark. It’s absurd," Netu said, wanting to understand Lina’s motive through the discourse.
"No, it wasn't absurd," Lina retorted.
"I don’t get it."
"How could it be absurd? If those fellows were not meant to hop off at the harbor, I wouldn’t have insisted the least."
"And how did you know they were bound for that strange harbor?"
“I only gave my interpretation based on your revelation. It is clearly suggested by the tone of the instruction I gave you in the yacht - they were not part of the otherwise smooth sail towards a treasure-laden terrain. That’s my guess."
"But that’s the sad part. The instruction you gave seemed our bane, for the yacht’s engine stopped functioning with the exit of the others."
Lina smiled wanly, she disliked Netu’s insinuation. "So you think I was responsible for the yacht’s treachery?" she asked, snorting. “Rubbish! You did say I repeated several times ’our way is free!' Does that sound like mischief to you? I’m of the opinion you wanted to fix it all alone. Probably self-conceit had a hand in the crisis.”
"I don’t buy that crap," snapped Netu. "Even if self-conceit had anything to do with it as you rationalize, I should think you’re as guilty as I am. When I needed you most at the forte you were nowhere to be found – you simply vanished into nothingness. Isn’t that the gravest portrait of self-conceit?"
"Boiling so hot over what is crystal clear? Don’t you have the eyes to see what those fellows stood for? I say this emphatically, their leaving was an advantage we had."
Netu’s puff was strident and mocking. He considered Lina, annoyed that she kept buck passing the blame to him.
"Haven’t I warned you enough in the past about your associations? Have you forgotten of the revelation in which two fierce ladies came after you to my residence to reclaim something you took from them, and one of them said she wants promotion by sacrificing your neck?"
Netu nodded affirmatively. “You did.”
"Didn’t I warn you of a certain devious black lady who came to dump your battered, bleeding body by my door and hurried to fetch some hooligans to complete the blood game she’d started? Did you also not remember how in the revelation I had to carry you to a spiritual haven around Ashi Park? And how we prayed and your broken bones and ribs mended miraculously and the black lady and her collaborators ran away for fear of our reprimand? You also remember, I suppose, the revelation about the white envelope? I presume some lump sum of money, given to you by someone to aid you financially and which you in turn gave out under hynopsis to the black lady? When I questioned you about it, you told me nothing like that ever took place. All these and more perhaps represent the fellows I drove from the yacht, so stop casting blames on me."
"Don't consider this a spree for aspersions, Lina. I only said what I said the way I understood it, so don’t fume," Netu said. “I gave all your warnings the utmost importance they deserved. Needless to say I’m still inspired by their meanings. You may have your tantrums and weaknesses like normal human beings do, which is commonplace. But I’m yet to disprove as senseless your judgment on fundamental issues of life. Your analytical, discerning mind is not given to frivolous excuses and bland resignation. I’ve been amazed at the rate at which some of your revelations have come to pass, which makes it even more inspiring for me to keep listening to your advice."
"Skip the rhetoric, my dear. You’ve said enough as it is. Flowery language won’t get you anywhere except you see the danger in an unwary step and take decisive actions to avert it. As for the yacht and all that, I see the decision at the harbor a necessity. That brings us back to the present. How do you intend to spend the day?"
Lina’s charms were in display again, and Netu sensed his heart yielding.
"I won’t be going out early," she urged with cryptic uundertone, winking.
Nothing so unsettled Netu as Lina’s self-assuredness, much like an incandescent sun that never sets, ever inspired by its relevant streak in the abyss of human groping. And a man’s greatest hurdle, it occurred to him, lay in the uncontrollable huffing of the heart, especially when its sweet tinkle comes from a woman's subtle charms and self-assuredness. As he regarded Lina, he felt a longing in his heart. If she reared as the hurdle he had to cross, he might as well do it with the finesse it required.
"How about a kiss?" Netu cajoled. "That’s how I want to start the day."
"You’re not getting any," Lina replied with cheer.
"I’m going for it anyhow."
"Do not touch me. Don’t you dare.”
Netu stood up sprightly, reached out to her and lifted her beaming face to his. "Of course, I’m not going to touch you! I’m just a doctor out to feel your heart pulse," he joked. "Now let’s see what it is like."
Their lips met, soft and warm, hers parting in haste to take his tongue and the next moment they reciprocated each other’s caresses.
As Netu pulled Lina up and swirled her to the bed, she realized he occupied a space in her heart as the only man in the world she could not resist. The feelings she had for him went beyond lust; she adored him crazily. And he seemed to recognize the power she had vested on him in the way he domineered over her emotion. Lina knew her own desire and ambition enslaved her to Netu as her wise master. And she was proud nonetheless being a slave to no other person than Netu Deo, the Manu in the making.
Part Four
BLACKHOLE
PAST
Chapter Thirteen
Disk Center, Blackhole. 2023.
When Numa entered the Wisdom Hall from the aisle, all Guardians in the Blackhole meeting rose and bowed their heads in reverence of their patron. Their magnificent wings – huge and diaphanous feather-like structures – complemented their immaculate attires. The beautiful Hall still looked impressive after innumerable eons of Blackhole’s existence. Evident too was the usual draft of gas on the floor. It embellished the ethereal qualities of the Guardians in its illusion against the array of light.
An air of urgency pervaded the tranquil atmosphere of the Wisdom Hall. It registered with the Guardians as the last meeting in the series of experiments they may undergo before new Atlantis and its breed of humans reached the envisioned point of stability.
Numa, Blackhole’s enigma, had addressed this same crop of Guardians some twenty-five thousand calendars ago in Atlantis. The focus of the meeting had been the degenerate culture of the human stock, which rolled irrevocably towards the brink of collapse eliciting the Guardians’ line of intervention. They had worked in concert with the Manu in Atlantis, installing as it were a new dispensation of grafted intelligence in new Atlantis. Intellectual resource from some of the PlayToy’s sister planets were pooled to this effect.
The new human experiment had grown from that point. Its roots steeped in wisdom and intellectual prowess. Out of the civilization came many distinct fruits and heavy burdens too. And in all of its phases of nurture, throughout the infantile stages up to its spawning glory, vast human civilizations florished and formed the bedrock of other civilizations. And in all the gloried heights of various civilizations and their eventual end, there had always been at the helm of each epoch, the essential function of a presiding Manu.
Many Manus, therefore, featured in the unstable motion of the human experiment. And Numa had seen the beauteous rhythms of the good mixed with the insidious thunder of the bad on new Atlantis with the kind of resignation typical of Blackhole’s patron.
Numa stood now without the aid of his golden scepter before the Guardians in the Wisdom Hall. He admitted the Guardians had done much to enhance human creativity and inclination toward the positive expression of own will in the last twenty-five thousand Atlantis’ calendars. He also reckoned out of the innumerable eons of existence of the PlayToy, the free reins nature of the human will itself had, no sooner than the divine statutes were laid, gone to stretch the volition on the negative. The Guardians were back as a result to the drawing table they had left long ago with the aim of cleansing their PlayToy.
"Well, Guardians, I welcome you to this meeting. It has become vital from time to time for the sustained existence of the cosmic system," Numa began with some steam after croaking clear his vocal chords. “Please, take your seats.”
The Guardians bowed and sat back on their seats.
"It’s over twenty-five thousand calendars since we had a major gathering of this kind," Numa went on, “and our preoccupation then was to help midwife the efforts of Finia in closing the chapter of Atlantis on a tidy note. Thereafter, we threw our weight behind the experiment of cross-breeding of the human stock and beings from neighboring planets in that solar system. The same Finia was given the mandate to pioneer the experiment. The results from the new Atlantis as experimented were indeed in order from the initial phase. Several splendors were delivered of the inscrutable womb of new Atlantis. Several Guardians were prepared by us too to take up the mantle of power after Finia to engender our programming down there - in new Atlantis.
"But with the advent of new splendors and new leadership and perceptions, the intellectual capacity which allows for rational action began its perverse incursion into the statutes of the divine put in place at the beginning. What we witnessed was recurrent anti-climax in every climax of civilization. The most worrisome of all the blunders of the period in review is the near futility of a cross-section of Guardians sent to reinstate Blackhole’s statutes in the various civilizations that thrived at one time or the other.
“Some of the Guardians sold out lustily to the seductive instincts of the women of new Atlantis. Some were only too lucky not to be trapped by the insidious influence of materialism. This group became complacent and numb to our promptings. We had another set of strict and disciplined Manus in Atlantis that carried out Blackhole’s mandate, at least, to a great degree. This group, I’m glad to say, scored above average where others failed."
Numa paused. His handsome face furrowed. He toyed with his grey stubble, softly plodding through gas clouds on the floor towards the tip of the crescent of Guardians on the left. He paced in deep thought around Guardian Sujes' seat at the tip of the row of seats.
"All of us have gone to new Atlantis in different bodies to test run our plan - from Sujes here to Hemmas there," he reminisced, pointing across the row of seats. “Individually we’ve all done our best. We’ve given everything we have to empower humans and their understanding of their nature. But as we look back and focus on the prevalent chaos on new Atlantis, we are surely haunted by the sad aspects of our experiment." Sighing he added, "Fellow Guardians, we are yet to adorn the coveted crown of accomplishment. In spite of all we’ve done, the situation of new Atlantis is even more precarious than before."
Numa plodded back to his seat at the center. “Twenty-five thousand calendars in relation to Atlantis’ is quite a long time for humans. For us, it is just a moment,” he continued. “The damage that has befallen our playhouse is much within that length of time. The events soon to pass on new Atlantis will even rock us harder than the past. There’s complete reliance on the intellectual capacity on the part of humans, and they are conquering the material planes as fast as we intended. We consider this Blackhole’s ache. The human surely will prevail if we don’t pre-empt what we clearly see as eminent danger without checks and balances. The point is we must start a new design for our broiling playhouse."
Another brief moment of silence. Numa balanced his pinto golden cap on his head. The fiery glaze of his eyeballs curried an unflinching intensity. “Perhaps, the time screens will explain it much better.”
Numa’s thoughts aligned with the blurry screens above the Command Module console and they came alive with vivid images.
The splendor referred to by the new Atlanteans as the Piscean Age glared now on the main screen. The Guardians observed the flickering scenes with great attention. They reckoned with it as the original fragment carved out of new Atlantis at the time of their last major redesign of the PlayToy during Tonka’s tenure. They saw marvelous architectural designs. Gems of divinity had spread their roots in all facets of the epoch through the teachings of the Manu of the era. This glared in the actions and interactions of the human stock and in the structures that panned out on the time screen.
The screen blurred again for a moment and then lightened up to reveal two other distinct blocks inhabited on the continent. The level of maturity of its humanity seemed greater here than in new Atlantis. A blend of the intellectual and spiritual occasioned by the presence of the extraterrestrials from the sister PlayToys referred to as planets by humans was perceptible to the Guardians.
“As you can see,” Numa went on, “the first splendor that came after the deluge replaced Tonka Manu’s new Atlantis. There was a challenge to that cradle though. The continental blocs with the extraterrestrials were in psychic contact with the new Atlanteans. The next civilization came as an offshoot of the first and it was the anchor point of several Manus after the cradle lost its divine mandate. We witnessed the florish of our third human experiment, indeed the entire gamut of human experiments leading to the modern experience.
"In the calculations of the human calendar, we are in the year 2023, which count began presumably after the purported death of one of us here, Guardian Sujes, whom they’ve said so many false things about. Going by their calendar we’ve got barely two hundred and twenty three calendars years before the year 2023 - our projected commencement date - for the next round of total cleansing of our stables, the human family and related strands. Two hundred twenty three calendars on that globe may take generations of humans to experience in full. But looking ahead of time as we’ve done, the future scenario of our Playhouse is as nauseating as the events of Tonka's Atlantis. I’m a bit mild in my assessment of new Atlantis’ future as it shows in time’s distant bubble.
“Life on our PlayToy has degenerated beyond what we can tolerate. We might call the various influences on that Playhouse
a deadly shaft of hatred, anger, jealousy, deception, covetousness, inhumanity and every damnable vice thinkable. This shaft is boring straight unimpeded into the heart of new Atlantis, gurgling and desecrating its once unblemished values. The future of the PlayToy is doomed unless..." Numa trailed-off, worried as he sat on his seat.
"Of course, we are going to be swift in our intervention," he continued, "but we can’t wait till the last hour. We are adopting a bandwagon mentality this time. We will checkmate their silly caprices step after step, gambit after gambit. A massive invasion of our PlayToy’s terrain by Guardian decoys it would be. We will bring our plan to climax in absolute secrecy; then comes our last laugh. We will clean the slate of new Atlantis once and for all and usher in a super psychic human race, which will be called the TITAN RACE."
Isolated murmurs of agreement amongst the Guardians greeted Numa’s pronouncement. In haste to elucidate on his proposition and the choice of name for the new human race, Numa rose and walked towards the screen at the backdrop. He waved his right hand in an arc and the Wisdom Hall began to spin, as if falling into a warp.
A thick mist enveloped the Guardians in their giddy downward fall. The descent through time’s void continued for some swirls. When it stopped at last, the mist had gone, and they were now giants in the palace of the Vral in an ancient civilization in one of their PlayToys.
“Now watch the drama of the past,” Numa said through their thought-waves. “We’re back in Lemuria! Six million calendars ago.”
# # #
Zyla edged close to the golden throne of the Wise One in the heart of the palace. His beady blue eyes questioned the Vral.
The Vral observed the gangling boy of seven seasons with amusement. “Son, you’re bored. You need some action,” he communicated in thought-form.
Zyla nodded. “Yes.”
Titan Race Page 31