“Just one color will do, sir, only plain white.”
“Plain white? . . . Oh, what a joke!" the artist decried the idea.
“I’m serious, sir. I don’t want to play a joke, sir, especially when my life is at stake.”
“OK, you won," the artist buckled. “Verk, please provide our visitor with different-sized brushes, a palette, paint thinner, and two gallons of white paint."
“Please wait. I don’t need brushes; just provide me with a pressurized paint sprayer," Mark emphasized.
“No problem, your wished is granted," Verk replied.
“We will witness a one-man art show, courtesy of our newfound Earthling brother," someone in the crowd said.
People now were puzzled. Had their elders told them the whole truth? Because they were told that their mother planet Earth, perished a long time ago, and now somebody had come and claimed that the Earth still exist.
After a few minutes the paint arrived,
“Here are your tools and materials, young man,” Verk said. “This is the paint sprayer; you can adjust the pressure it you wish . . . some more? Just say so; I’m ready to serve, Brother.”
“Thank you very much, Brother. I think this is enough,” Mark replied and began to stir the paint inside the spray container.
“May I now alter your masterpiece, sir?” Mark asked.
“Yes, you can start,” the artist replied.
Mark held the three-gallon-capacity sprayer and pressed the button at maximum pressure; subsequently, the paint jetted from the silver nozzle and in an instant white covered a quarter of the globe.
“Hey! What’s that fellow doin’? He’s destroying our sacred treasure!” someone in the crowd fumed.
Moment later, the entire globe was already covered with white paint.
“Now we can’t recognize which part is land and which part is water. Oh . . . how terrible an artist you are, young man; you’ve turned this beautiful globe into an abstract object,” someone commented.
“Sir, this is how the Earth appears at this moment; it’s 95 percent white,” Mark said.
“You mean the Earth is covered with clouds?” the artist asked,
“No, no, this young guy is conveying a terrifying message. If the Earth . . . still exists,” Dr. Lhuff Kazawizki interrupted, “it is freezing… and life is miserable for whoever opted to live in that planet.” Everybody is stunned.
“You’re right, sir. I haven’t seen the sun shine in all my life in the Earth. The major color you see is white, even the sky is dirty white!” Mark explained.
“Can I join this mess, gentlemen?” A religious counselor comes forward.
“Ah, yes, Father Fiumicelli. You ask our brother here any question you wanted to, about the Earth; you also witnessed the last days of the Earth, didn’t you?” Verk asked.
“Yes, I saw the beginning of the Earth’s doomsday,” the counselor concurred, “but that doesn’t mean that we can rule out some miracles that could have taken place.”
“You mean that there’s a possibility that the Earth survived?" someone asked. “It's possible. . .. Let’s also understand that in spite of the high-tech evolution of man’s knowledge, still they couldn’t agree how mankind came to exist. But my religion has some explanation from the beginning and how all mankind’s life has been guided since then."
“I think, Counselor, you’re diverting us from our discussion. Right now our main subject is the claim of this stranger that the Earth still exists. Will you please ask something that would signify as a basis for the Earth’s existence?” the artist clarified.
The chancellor remained silent on his royal throne.
“Yes, I understand what all of you feel at this moment," the counselor said, “but please don’t try to censor my religious language.”
“You’ve all the privilege, Counselor,” the artist replied.
“My son, please come," the Counselor began in a soft voice.
“C’mon, tell us what month of the year it is at this moment into the Earth?" the counselor inquired.
“Sir, based on my timepiece here”-Mark switched on his bracelet- “it’s already the first week of December."
“Will you please tell us any significant things that the people are doin’, especially if there’s no ongoing crisis?”
“Sir, at this moment, I think it’s only in the Christians that you can find some changes. They’re decorating their homes, I’m positive. They’ve some lanterns in different shapes suspended in front of their homes. The most common sight is the bright star lantern, the ‘Nativity Scene.’ Some trees decorated with different yuletide decors are surrounded by gift-wrapped boxes. . .. Likewise, there’s a man wearing a red-and-white costume with an artificial white beard and mustache; he has a sack full of gifts at his disposal. In the night you could hear some songs that were sung only in this season, by kids and adults alike. There was a time that I was enticed by my friends to join them and it was irresistible because it happened only once a year.”
“Son, you’re talking about the yuletide carols. Maybe you’re still familiar with some of their songs. Will you please sing for us any of their songs?" the Counselor requested.
“You want me to sing their songs, sir?”
“Yes, my son.”
“Sir, I haven’t memorized the complete lyrics of their songs, and besides, my voice isn't tailored for entertainment.”
“My son, your voice doesn’t count a lot; even if your songs are unfinished we still shall welcome them.”
Mark couldn’t believe what was going on; he was being pressured to render a song. Ever since his childhood he hadn’t able to perform a solo singing engagement in public and this haunted him now.
“Sir, can somebody accompany me with the harp?”
“Sure, my son,” the counselor replied. “Please, somebody there, will you borrow a harp?"
Then Mark look around, a little bit nervous, eventually he whispered to the Counselor.
"Yes, I’ll do it slowly,” the Counselor replied.
The sounds of the harp began to fill their ears; momentarily, Mark opened his lips and sang a Christmas medley of “Joy to the World," “Silent Night” and “Whispering Hope.”
The counselor suddenly found himself in a quick, vivid recollection of his distant past. He spent his priesthood in the Middle East, preaching the gospel of Jesus. One of his memorable nights was on Christmas Eve in a church situated in the peaceful city inhabited largely, by Islam believers. As darkness approached, he was contemplating if there were many faithful around the city, because there were only a few who heard mass customarily. At ten o’clock in the evening, people began to trickle in and occupy the convenient seats. Eventually, past eleven, he was surprised because believers came in droves. Some came off a shuttle bus and consisted mostly of expatriates from different nations of the four corners of the globe. The majority were Indians, followed by Filipinos, Europeans, Africans, Palestinians, and some Arabs. He received them warmly, with a few words of greeting; then his regular faithful ushered the visitors inside. Before the mass started, they sang a Christmas carol, led by a male Indian expatriate. They sang this yuletide song:
“Oh, Come All Ye Faithful.”
After they had sung several Christmas carols, a pretty Lebanese lass named Angelina read about the life of Jesus according to Matthew.
The Counselor could still recall his sermon that evening: “There was a wife together with her five-year-old son who went shopping in the supermarket. The mother was very busy buying some goodies for Christmas while her son was attentively watching the replica of a baby lying in a manger filled with hay and surrounded by goats, cows, horses, and sheep. The boy couldn’t hide his feelings; he called his mother; ‘Ma, look, a poor child lying in a manger. . .. Come, Ma, let’s buy him a cloth,’ the boy said. ‘just leave it alone, son; it’s only a display prop,’ the mother said.” At this juncture the counselor had emphasized, “The little boy displayed his tender love while the mother did
n’t care.” At this moment Mark was still continuing singing “The First Noel.”
“Stop!” the Counselor interrupted. “Let’s stop all this quiz. I am confident that this young fellow isn’t a liar.”
The people remained silent. “Now, I can see light at the end of the tunnel; this young fellow is on an errand of truth . . . the Earth exists!” shouted the Counselor. The Counselor embraced Mark tightly and he swung his body. “The Earth still exists!” exclaimed the Counselor. Sensing that the counselor’s words were reliable, the Kuralians followed suit. They danced and yelled while holding their hands in a chain and ran around Mark shouting aloud, “Long live the Earth!” The people’s actions expressed their deep emotional feelings.
“Let’s have a break,” the Chancellor told his advisers. He invited them to his private room. “There's something queer . . . goin’ on," the Chancellor said. “Do all of you believe what that young fellow has been saying, that the Earth still exists?”
“Chancellor, it seems that he’s telling the truth,” someone replied.
“Chancellor, on my part, I'm not satisfied. Who knows but his elders brought their Earth culture along to the planet that they’re living on now and taught this to their kids?” Mr. Maxweld, a professor of history and culture, said.
“Yes, you’ve got a point there,” Dr. Kazawizki asserted. “It’s also possible that the young fellow has a microcomputer so that when we asked him those questions the computer immediately got the answers and fed them to him at an instant,” the surgeon speculated.
The Chancellor, feeling uneasy, took a cigarette and lit it. “Dr. Chopra, one moment please. Did you remove his fancy bracelet and the metal necklace when you performed the test?”
“As per normal procedure, all his personal belongings were removed,” the surgeon answered.
“Suppose we borrow them; maybe we can unlock something,” the chancellor suggested.
In the palace hall the Kuralians were at the peak of joy.
“Let’s give our Earthling brother some food!” the Counselor urged.
The Kuralians ceased dancing when the food arrived and focused their eyes on their very important guest. Mark was sitting in front of the round, turning glass table filled with some special foods. Mark couldn’t believe what he saw, lobsters, crabs, fish, and fruits! He grabbed a lobster arm and pulled it. He began to chew. It’s sweet . . . it’s candy! he silently told himself; then he got one fruit. Maybe this is a real apple? He asked himself. Oh, no, it’s still candy. He looked around, undecided whether to continue eating or not. He realized shortly that he couldn’t afford to offend his host.
After satisfying himself, Mark stood up and smiled. “You’ve got delicious food here, it’s superb! Your culinary sculptors have done a wonderful job. They've perfectly copied those crustaceans and fruits, there’s only one thing that I would like to comment on, if you don’t mind. What they missed was the real taste. It’s different."
The Kuralians chuckled, because the foods that they had served were their version of marzipan delicacies, mixtures of almond, rosewater, and sugar.
“Mark, what’s that hanging on your neck and on your wrist?” Lady Khinna asked.
“This on my neck, it’s not an ordinary necklace; it contains my personal records, a sort of identification, inside a microchip. You can check it if you wish." He handed it to Lady Khinna. “While this bracelet is my pet’s remote control,” Mark explained, and to allay his hosts’ fear he depressed a protruding pin on his bracelet. “Sniffer, come here,” he whispered. Sniffer, who was several yards away, responded to the call immediately.
“Is your pet a robot?” Verk asked.
“No, he is one of the surviving species on Earth,” Mark replied. “He was born naturally and was trained to respond to commands.”
“Hey! What’s this beast doing to my dress?!” Lady Khinna wondered. Mark just smiled because Sniffer had urinated on her dress.
“I’m sorry, My Lady, for my pet’s misbehavior,” Mark apologized for his pet’s misconduct.
“It doesn’t matter,” Lady Khinna replied. “I can change it in a few minutes. . .. May I borrow your bracelet, Mark?”
“At your service, My Lady,” Mark offered. “Just depress this pin if you wish to give a command to Sniffer.”
“Puppy, run!” Lady Khinna commanded, but to her dismay,
Sniffer doesn’t move, just sniffed something from a great distance.
“You call his name first before you command him; otherwise he won’t obey.” Mark stressed.
Lady Khinna threw an artist’s colored pencil about ten yards away. “Sniffer, get that pencil." Sniffer responded and gave it to her. Lady Khinna wanted to test the intelligence of Sniffer further by throwing a dozen more different-colored pencils. “Sniffer, bring to me the blue pencil," Lady Khinna commanded. To their amazement, Sniffer responded correctly.
Sniffer jumped through a burning ring with daggers and did a balancing act on top of a rolling plastic ball. The Kuralians were very much excited by some of Sniffer’s fanciful acts. On the other hand, the Chancellor and his advisers were still discussing how to find any faults that would contest their visitor’s alleged claim that the Earth still exist, which the new generation had already accepted as proclaimed by their influential elder, the Counselor, himself.
The people were now waiting for the chancellor’s final verdict.
In the Chancellor’s private room: “Chancellor, we’ve fed the microchip that we've taken from his pendant to the computer; it has concurred on his name. Mark Cromwell Gouch, born in Anticland, a district of Sankey, the city of Sargasso, Planet Earth . . . no formal education, has advanced knowledge in astrophysics and cosmo-engineering. He can read, write, and speak several languages of the Earth, such as English, Niponggo, Mandarin, German, Spanish French, Russian, and Swahili,” the computer operator reported the resulting data.
“He has very impressive credentials indeed, but how could it be? The Earth survived the relentless bombardment of the potent nuclear bombs? My eyes and those of the other crews didn’t lie. Not unless there was divine intervention, could the Earth have survived this terrible misfortune,” the Chancellor wondered.
“I think it’s time to show him the video record of the Earth’s last hour,” the senior adviser suggested.
“Yes, we’ve no choice but to show in public that forbidden film,” the Chancellor said.
The people in the palace hall became silent when the chancellor and his advisers showed up.
“Mr. Mark Cromwell Gouch, we’ve verified your identity and we’re very glad that you ’re one of our Earthling brothers, “the chancellor declared. “Let's give a welcome hand to our new citizen . . . our Earthling brother!" shouted the Chancellor.
The people clapped in spontaneous joy and those that were near, hugged and kissed Mark. “Kuralians, my people, in spite of his positive Earthling identity, the Council of Elders is not yet fully convinced that the Earth really exists,” said the Chancellor, “not unless Mark can present a convincing explanation, the syndrome of the ‘lost planet’ shall never be erased.”
The ordinary Kuralians couldn’t understand what was going on.
“Mark, if you don’t mind, will you please describe or say something about this video film that we’ll show to the public? Don’t worry; in the event that your explanation does not meet our satisfaction we’ll still provide the spaceship that you’ve requested," reassured the Chancellor.
“Thank you very much for your kindness, Your Excellency. I just hope that before I leave this wonderful planet, all the fogs ' of historical ambiguity shall be cleared.”
All eyes now focused on the video screen about six feet by ten feet that had begun to show a spaceship ready for take-off with a handful of crew members. The next scene showed the crew ' in their spaceship’s control chamber with concerned faces. (The audio was deliberately being suppressed by the operator.) The spaceship was now in outer space; on its monitor several planets appeared.
“It's the solar system!" Mark exclaimed. “The one in the center is a star called the sun, while those big bodies surrounding the sun are the nine planets and the five dozen moons. . .. The smaller bodies are called asteroids. All the planets revolve around the sun in the same direction. Nearest to the sun is Mercury, followed by Venus; next are our beloved planet, Earth, then Mars, the asteroid belt, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto.”
The next scene of the Earth was amplified on the screen. “At this stage was the hour when the Earth was on fire!” Mark cried out.
The next scene again showed the solar system. All the planets were still intact except the Earth, and as the sound of the video resumed, the crew was shouting, “They’ve destroyed the Earth!”
“The Earth is gone!” yelled the Commander, who resembled the Chancellor. The crew wept as some buried their faces in their palms.
“Now, young man, what did you saw in the last scene? the Chancellor asked.
“It was swallowed by darkness,” Dr. Kazawizki interrupted, “and never to be seen again. It was monitored by the crews for several days, and they saw nothing.”
“Yes, the Earth disappeared only in the film,” Mark stressed.
“What?! You mean you don’t believe this film?” the Chancellor was shaken. “You mean my eyes were blinded during that time?" His fist was shaking, too.
“Sir, I didn’t question the authenticity of the film, for I’m certain that it was taken during the day the Earth met that horrifying tragedy.” Mark clarified, “But, sir, what the film failed to show were the debris of the Earth, that could have littered within its orbit and formed into another layer of the asteroid belt.”
“You’re suggesting that the Earth just spiraled away under the cover of darkness?” the Chancellor asked.
Lady Khinna paced forward and signaled for an interruption. “Allow me to share with all of you my unbelievable experiences in life. Even though our technological advancement is continuously evolving, let's not ignore the unproven phenomena of our existence. . .. What I’m telling you is that our spirit, it sounds awful, but it has disturbed my mind. Whether you believe it or not, since my childhood I’ve frequently dreamed of a couple with a boy and a girl who were concealed in a glass cubicle. They were calling my name, saying, ‘Khinn, come to the Earth and free us before it’s too late.’ I told my dream to the Counsellor, and he explained to me that in the lost planet during the era of the kings and pharaohs the dreams of the king or pharaoh were interpreted by many wise men in the palaces. I hope that behind that darkness the Earth still exists, licking from its nuclear wounds... and my caring family awaits me."
The Embryo of the Star Page 13