by Toker, Dor
“You’re sending me back to Earth?” Adam could hardly believe his ears. Will Dmitry disappoint and abandon him, just like everyone else had?
“We’ve got merchandise to sell and the buyers are in Jerusalem,” explained the smuggler, and laughed when he saw the look on Adam’s face: “you know you’re mine for at least three more months, and I always protect my property.”
Adam realized he had no choice but to settle for this vague promise. Dmitry had plans for him; all he needed to do was try to find out what they were. In the meantime, he closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep, but sleep evaded him. He was about to return to planet Earth, from which he had escaped with the intention of never coming back. Adam was thrilled and without noticing, opened the secure communication line in the smugglers’ commander’s aircraft. Dmitry had managed to create an account with a false identity for him, one that was supposed to be safe, but until now, he avoided using it for fear he’d be discovered. He closed his eyes, hesitated for a moment and then surfed the inner-eye screen, plunging into the river of worldwide-knowledge, navigating his way to information about friends he had left on Earth. A flashing banner sprung into his consciousness, on the upper part of the screens. A message from an unidentified source. Adam considered whether he should open the message or erase it. Elizabeth had warned him of virus spools that snuck their way into the brain implant, disguised as seemingly innocent messages, viruses that could disrupt the implant irreparably. People who’d undergone such a viral attack remained disconnected from society, unable to function. Most of them had not survived; Elizabeth had told him, but Adam suspected it to be one of those cautionary tales told to children.
He pressed the banner on his web-keyboard and the message immediately opened:
• Report
• Receive information that’s essential for your education, survival, and proper functioning.
Adam was surprised. The writer of the message must have been the same one who’d helped him just moments earlier. Someone was very much interested in keeping him alive. He tapped the attached file and began to read:
Chapter 24
In the year 5594 on the Jewish Calendar, a few days before his death, while lying in his bed, covered by three layers of thick blankets yet still shivering, the learned Jewish scholar Rabbi David Friedlander confessed to his personal secretary, Franz Hirsch Stieglitz, about an injustice he had knowingly caused his honorable teacher, the renowned Rabbi Moses Mendelssohn. Friedlander had translated Mendelssohn’s writings from Hebrew to German and saw himself as the Rabbi’s successor and an anchor for the Haskalah – the Jewish enlightenment movement. Friedlander, a well know deist, told Franz Hirsch that Mendelssohn had written his books in the Hebrew language because he related them to the Bible and its interpretations, but mainly because he wanted just a few learned people to read his writings so as not to arouse the wrath of the Christian Church. According to Friedlander, some of Mendelssohn’s books expressed theories and opinions about life and the creation, which contradicted both the stern hardline dictated by the heads of the Jewish communities, and the beliefs of the church. Moses Mendelssohn, a self-proclaimed religious man, possessed a faith whose nature was more deterministic than was the norm in his era, practical in its essence. He was a pluralist and in his heart was etched the universal love of man.
David Friedlander’s confession focused on a brief essay written in Hebrew, an essay that challenged the three monotheistic religions’ conception of creation. In his surprising composition, Mendelssohn likened the world to a huge jigsaw puzzle, composed of chains of events related to one another by causal and purposeful connections. Mendelssohn had also claimed that the puzzle itself, or the creation of the Earth, had a reason, a cosmic meaning, which he had chosen to call – Godhood, from which the creation of the chains had begun. He also claimed that the Earth has a purpose it should achieve at the end of its way as a planet, when all chains of events will fully be realized. Mendelssohn called this purpose, the human leap. This conception was related to Rabbi Eleazar’s ‘divine order’ and the teachings of Judah Loew ben Bezalel, the Maharal of Prague.
David Friedlander had found the manuscript in the Rabbi’s estate. He had secretly taken it and studied it carefully. At first, he thought of it as another attempt by his rabbi to correspond with the doomsday prophecies common in Europe at the time, but the more he delved into the composition, the more authentic and reliable it appeared. He did not know when and how exactly Mendelssohn had written the essay and had never heard his Rabbi mentioning the theory. He decided to name it after its creator – the Mendelssohnian Theory. For many days, Friedlander deliberated whether he should translate the revolutionary essay into German and publish it. Like his rabbi, he was afraid the reaction of the Church and the emperor would be harsh and because Mendelssohn was Jewish, it may also include new and more severe decrees for the Jewish community, which was mercilessly oppressed as it was. He decided to put away the manuscript and hid its pages, filled with Mendelssohn’s dense handwriting, in the small concealed drawer of a little table standing in the bedroom he and his wife shared in Berlin.
For thirty-eight years, David Friedlander had concealed Mendelssohn’s essay. He had read it many times and often thought of it. Being an amateur scientist, he conducted secret experiments and found many correlations between the Mendelssohnian theory and reality. Such proof had led him to the conclusion there was a grain of truth in the theory. The more he had recognized the plausibility of the essay, the greater his fear of publishing it became. He assumed its publication would anger not only the religious but would also raise the wrath of the new scientists and renowned experts who had thus far attempted to provide rational explanations for the reality in which humankind existed.
On the verge of death, Rabbi Friedlander implored his pupil Franz Hirsch Stieglitz to take the translated German manuscript and publish it immediately after his death. “I corresponded some time ago with the owner of a Jewish printing house in London,” Friedlander explained, “now go to him discreetly and conceal this important manuscript in your belongings. Always keep it safe, do not show it to any other living soul and do not be tempted to read it yourself, even if your soul burns with a desire to do so.” Franz Hirsch immediately undertook the mission his teacher David Friedlander had given him. He was thirty-four years of age when he had begun his work with Friedlander, and for the past five years had served as the rabbi’s personal secretary. As time passed, he became the scholar’s companion and often times his opponent, an equal rival for philosophical debates. David, who valued Franz Hirsch and loved him as a friend, had known that if the secret document fell into the hands of the church’s institutions or the Jewish rabbis, Franz Hirsch would be tried and, as he was Jewish, would probably be executed. Even the Anglican Church, supposedly the most enlightened of the Christian sects, will not show any mercy towards such heresy. And so he warned his messenger again and again not to allow the composition to fall into the wrong hands.
Franz Hirsch arrived in London on the eve of a gloomy and rainy day. Travelling on the steam ferry which had crossed the English Channel, then continued down the gray watered Thames all the way to the great London harbor, had served to upset his stomach and he disembarked the small steamship swaying on his feet. After voicelessly thanking God for surviving the hardships of the road, he stopped a black carriage and gave the coachman the address of the printing house that David Friedlander had contacted. It was located on Albion Boulevard, in the northern part of town. He slept so soundly throughout the carriage ride that the coachman had to forcefully shake him in order to wake him up, once they had arrived at the destination.
Upon disembarking, Stieglitz noticed a pillar of smoke, rising from what was once the printing house. To his dread, he heard from one of the neighbors that two days earlier the printing house had been burned to the ground. Where it once stood, only the remains of charred and ashen walls now remained. The business owner found his death when he had attempted in
vain to save the life of his assistant, the typesetter. Shocked, surprised and without an inkling as to where he should go now, Franz Hirsch approached the coachman and asked him to find an inexpensive, clean hotel. The latter took him to a small family hotel in the vicinity, run by his wife’s parents.
That night, Franz Hirsch was unable to fall asleep. On the one hand, he was saddened for not being able to keep the promise he had given his teacher David Friedlander, on the other hand, curiosity assailed his soul, tickled the tips of his fingers and filled him with thirst. He lay in bed, tossing from side to side, until he finally made up his mind, got up and took out the mysterious manuscript he had sworn to defend. He opened the thin ribbon that bound the small notebook and in spite of what he had promised his teacher, began to read in the candlelight. At first, he thought it was a prank, that perhaps his teacher had jested and sent him on a false mission, perhaps he wanted to remove his pupil from him. He read: In the beginning, there was nothing…
When he had finished reading the opening three chapters of Mendelssohn’s essay, he realized he had never been as fascinated by a manuscript. He was enraptured and excited. He had never heard such words of open heresy, now he read them in the writings of a Jewish rabbi! He began to suspect his teacher may have lost his mind, but as he was naturally curious and drawn by the story, he set his worries aside and returned to delve into the book.
After three hours of reading, Franz Hirsch put down the pages. Without noticing, he was drawn into the entanglement of the story, written from the viewpoint of God the creator, which had created the vast puzzle – Planet Earth, an obstacle course intended to purify and refine the human race and eventually enable it to become the equal of its God.
The next chapter of the manuscript was completely different. The chapter, and the ones that followed, were an in-depth philosophical analysis of human history. Rabbi Moses Mendelssohn did not hesitate to provide surprising conclusions within the discussion he had conducted with himself and with the Jewish religion, and therefore with Christianity and Islam as well. God, according to Mendelssohn, was a concept that expressed the feelings of the thinker regarding a hidden supreme creator or creators that had created the Earth. Once they’d created it, their direct involvement concluded, and they remained spectators, waiting to see what course the coming events would take. God, according to Mendelssohn, had chosen to remain passive once the act of creation had been completed, and not to interfere in the occurrences on the planet. Thus, Mendelssohn deduced that all major beliefs were pointless and pointed out the basic human need to continue and evolve, without the boundaries separating religions.
Franz now realized why his teacher David Friedlander had been so afraid. The ideas the author had expressed through the telling voice of God were revolutionary as far as the conceptions of godhood and the world itself were concerned. Mendelssohn presented a theory that suggested essentially deterministic processes were the ones causing human development. What was new in his essay was the idea that the creator of the world operated in a ‘fire-and-forget’ way. His conclusion was that the human race was the one that needed to do the work. Mendelssohn envisioned the Earth as a system of springs and power switches. The accidental or intentional release of this or that lever, releases a spring, which in turn activates another spring, and then, in a sequence of occurrences, the process of human development takes place.
During the hours in which he had read Mendelssohn’s essay with fervor, Franz had become paranoid. He felt haunted, even though he hadn’t the faintest idea who was haunting him, and feared the secret of the manuscript will be revealed. Actually, he even ascribed the fire in the printing house to a conspiracy intended to prevent the essay’s publication. He spent the rest of the night fully awake, the essay safely tucked beneath his clothes. In the morning, he paid the hotel owner, thanked him and his wife and went into the city streets. He walked aimlessly, constantly looking back, fearing the messengers of the church or the representatives of the authorities who wanted to prevent the publication of the innovative composition will capture him.
At noontime, Franz Hirsch encountered a skullcap-wearing Jew, a Judaica merchant, a distant relative from his mother’s side of the family. Isaac Kahn, the relative, told him he was about to board the ‘Black Swan’ the next day, a ship that sailed to the city of New York in the United States of America. Franz Hirsch, still under the influence of the book he had read the previous night, felt he was standing at a crossroad. He needed to determine where he would turn to next. Under the influence of Mendelssohn’s book, it was obvious to him his meeting with a distant uncle was no mere coincidence. It was not for nothing that the opportunity to sail to the new world had presented itself to him. He was enraptured by the idea of a new beginning, far from persecutions, far from the many limitations enforced upon the Jews wherever they were, just as he had pictured it in his mind’s eye – America! On the other hand, he feared the hand that had chased and threatened both him and Mendelssohn’s book may have had something to do with this invitation. But his curiosity had gotten the best of him. He thought the chances of publishing the book in traditional Europe were slim, surely in the United States of America, he would be able to find a publisher that will agree to print the manuscript.
That very day, Franz Hirsch purchased a ticket and reserved his place for the next departure. He avoided mentioning his Jewish origins and as his visage was German and his documents affirmed Germany as his native country, Hirsch had found himself embarking the ‘Black Swan’ the very next morning, alongside his relatives.
Adam finished reading the document and the big question of ‘why did the source provide him with the information and why did it think it essential for Adam’s survival?’ flashed before his eyes. He tried to think of a proper explanation by seeking a hidden motive, but failed and chased the thought from his mind. He was going back home. Even though he knew it was only for a time, following which he will return to the darkness of space, he still felt fear mixed with excitement. He opened his eyes and examined the control panel. “Encode new coordinates,” he instructed the hovercraft’s computer and nodded at Dmitry to indicate everything was under control.
Chapter 25
Visually, the arid open spaces of Mars are very similar to those of the Earthy Sahara desert. The weather conditions, though, are closer to those of the Russian tundra during wintertime! The frozen ground, the vast sand rivers, the dust storms blowing at a speed of hundreds of miles an hour and chiefly, the gas composition of the planet’s atmosphere, did not allow humans to establish settlements on the planet, long after they’d developed the technological ability to do so. It wasn’t a coincidence that Russian cosmonauts were the first to land on the planet and established, in the name of the Russian empire, the Korolev Research Station, named after the immortal rocket engineer and spacecraft designer. The station was dug deep into the planet’s surface, on the edges of the Valles Marineris, the notorious valley known for its cruel nature and intolerance to strangers. Generations of mining tradition in the demanding conditions of the Siberian region were supposedly enough to prepare the Russian laborers for such a treacherous environment, but even they found it difficult to adjust to the small planet.
Even in her darkest dreams, Natalia had never imagined she would find herself in such an extreme and challenging environment. The view visible through the Korolev Station’s control screens was hypnotizing in its savagery. No less disturbing was the thought that there were people out there, operating the mining equipment and freight hovercrafts in the deadly ninety-four degrees below zero temperature. A brown iron rain fell on their defense/offense suits (DO-Battledress ©), almost entirely preventing them from inspecting their surroundings with their own senses and forcing them to rely on the identification–monitoring instruments (identification-Monitoring ©) embedded in their bodies or their DO suits. Not that anyone or anything was about to endanger them, the living conditions on the red planet were the ones setting traps for the station’s crew a
nd the miners. As commander Bulganov had said, “There are those who murder with a deep hatred, others with uncontrollable lust blinding their eyes, Mars just murders you with indifference.” Indeed, the planet was nicknamed ‘Indifferent Mars’, and Natalia, who’d been in the mother base for less than two weeks, began to understand the meaning of the name. The people around her ignored one another, performing the task for which they were hired by the Russian Federal Space Agency (Roscosmos) while being indifferent to each other’s presence. This was her first assignment as a technological doctor operator (TecDoc ©) and her first time as Natalia Kournikova. She assumed anonymity would be easier on Mars and so had shed her previous identity. She had paid a lot of money to obtain a new identity and had no intention of being exposed. Actually, she had volunteered for the Mars mission, much to the surprise of the other students of the technological doctor operators course, who regarded her as an odd bird, the choice she had made for her first assignment merely served to establish their opinion of her.
Bulganov, her commanding officer, the man who’d allowed her to receive her new identity, had been hesitant about stationing her on Mars. He thought she was still not ready to go out to the field, certainly not to Mars. He also thought her cover story as a technological doctor operator was pretty thin, but she was determined to go to the assignment, and the commander finally gave up. He knew that Natalia would not finish her training unless she gained some practical fieldwork experience, and because he regarded her as the finest student he’d ever had, he trusted her and was convinced she will perform her work well. She was given a name and a photo of her ‘objective’ and was supposed to deliver the ‘article in question’, as the commander referred to him, as soon as possible, and as alive and well as possible.
Once every two weeks or so, a different miner crew would receive a forty-eight hour vacation within the Korolev station, today it was the red crew’s turn to get its vacation. Natalia had already located her target, a mining machine operator who spent most of his time on the brownish-yellowish surface and even used to sleep in the vehicle that bore the mining machine. The miners were already assembled inside the large air compressor at the station’s entrance. Soon they’ll come and see her one by one, to be examined by the technological doctor. This was her chance to act, and she prepared to perform her assignment in the best possible way and without errors. The commander’s customers trusted him to deliver the ‘objects’ they had ordered alive, his men preferred to die rather than risk the delivery of a dead shipment.