Ten Directions

by Samuel Winburn

  “Maslow’s pyramid is upside down. Who loves someone who isn’t, self act-u-al-ised? You see? That’s where it comes from. It’s when you forget, when you forget everyone leaves, puts you outside, swipes your food, dries you up.”

  He watched her arms cross.

  “So, where does Self Actualisation come from?” Always canny was his Helen.

  “The top of the pyramid, it’s a tip. Out of thin air. From Nothing.”

  “Oh, Calvin. I’m not so sure.”

  “No one is.”

  He remembered when that line had first hit him, listening earlier that day to Coltrane, washout junkie, black in a time when those three things together meant nothing but nigger. Who was going to love that man? Where were the satisfied needs playing a Love Supreme? The purest improv ever to pour from a man’s lips sprang straight from the empty in his soul.

  A buzzer buzzed, and Calvin30, riding Helen’s perspective hobbled past the boy to check with the receptionist.

  He remembered how, after she left, he had spied in her diary on her desk, “Password: Exc3Lc10r.”

  And that was how he had come to carry a copy of Christine’s confidentials. Hers and those of many more. In them he had uncovered that it was not only clones who felt alone in their skins.

  “Exc3Lc10r.” The key to sailing on an open sea of sorrows.

  “Self ACT-U-AL-I-SATION.”

  The ocean blurred by and the sky never seemed so wide. Today. The Nothing in his heart and the Nothing beyond - all spanned by the grand arc of his plan. It was the closest he had ever felt to God inside himself.

  "Just give me that old time religion."

  Gospel hymns of Mingus had been rejoicing in Calvin30’s pipe since he woke this morning. He patched into an on-line jam group that grooved on that stuff and joined in once he got the Spirit right. The organist had a light touch that reminded him of Shirley Scott.

  Brother Calvin30 the Obscure, whose Papa was a holy rolling clone, could fe-eel the power of the Lord. Alleluia.

  “Dong. Arriving at LA SpaceX. We hope you enjoyed your ride and we look forward to traveling with you again.”

  Calvin30 turned the tenor part over to the next guy in line, and the leader God-Blessed him for his time.

  "Got some soul in ya brother Calvin."

  And also in you.

  Calvin bowed down the carriage to the mostly deserted train, earning a few quizzical glances. Then the train parked, and he walked out to wait in the gantry with a handful of select souls and assorted freight, soon to be launched into Earth orbit.

  His news was too huge to be delivered by neuroview. Calvin30 needed to feel the notes as they were placed, face to face, with August. Playing the great man like this couldn’t be done from a distance.

  Their rocket softly lifted off underneath the dirigible that would take it on the first stage to the stratosphere, costing less Ecos to launch that way.

  Calvin30 watched as the Moon grew bright on the edge of night. Rockets flared and soon they transited at the Mirtopik International Space Station to the waiting Luna Shuttle. Passing the departure lounge he inconspicuously espied the returning Directors smiles and scowls. Gudanko was all frowns.

  Soon they were onward to the Moon, and Calvin30 watched the blue Earth shrinking to fit within the observation deck rearward frame. As he rose, he composed, blending Mingus with King. Ladies and gentlemen, I have your Dream.

  The Dream was the theme, for it was August and his Dream that would set them all free. Or maybe not. Did it make any difference? The striving was gratifying, not the arriving.

  As they flew round the Dark Side and the Blue planet dropped from view, Calvin30 renewed his ruminations on the Grand Man.

  He remembered when August took over back in the Twenties. Before then things had been far less fascinating. ApolloCom, as it was then called, was a drunken and decrepit blob that had vomited itself into the solar system on a Second Wave binge, busy selling off its bits as it imploded. With impressionable eyes, a fledgling Calvin30 watched the Com bosses drop from their top windows like a falling flock. And then, August Bridges had arrived all white horse and sun rise.

  The Nets, needing the Coms’ Moon energy to boost their efforts to stabilise the climate, rode to the rescue. August Bridges, their prodigal son and Steward of MirtopikNet, led the charge.

  Calvin30 had harvested fields of irrational dreams while the greatest corporate restructure in human history commenced and MirtopikNet choked and gagged and irretrievably transformed trying to assimilate a creature of a fundamentally different chemistry.

  Upwelling ripples from August's dramatic splash nourished a rich ecology of narcissism upon which Calvin30 had learned to feast. The nearer to August one got the more dramatic was the effect. And the possibilities in August himself were awesomely endless. And August, sensing possibilities that lesser mortals had missed, summarily summoned Calvin30 to his side.

  Today would be the blessed consummation of that marriage. The landing module puffed softly down onto the regolith and Calvin30 in his space suit hopped down. As he sauntered towards the airlock he passed a mechanic bent over the engine of a Moon buggy.

  “Where do you think you are going?” growled a voice in Calvin30’s head.

  It was August.

  Calvin30 pivoted on the spot to face him.

  “Hi, Boss.”

  “I couldn’t find you.”

  “It’s not easy to do. We all look alike you see.”

  August shrugged, stalked to the buggy, and stepped in. Ever dutiful, Calvin30 dropped in beside him. The buggy wheels spun and suddenly gripped, and they jerked out into the dark, quickly leaving the lonely few tubes called Luna City behind. Ahead loomed the abrupt walls of Plato Crator and soon they were zooming under the tunnel leading through them.

  “How grand,” he proclaimed as they passed the point of listening-in range. “Mind if I play. Some new riffs to share. Fine tunes for a private ride out on the dunes."

  August considered him carefully.

  “The same ones you have been serenading the stars with?”

  “The very same.”

  The dark in August’s frown flickered towards off.

  “Well good. I always enjoy listening to what you’ve learned from the latest muse.”

  “No mere ditty this Boss, the Universe has given us our Magnum Opus”

  "Really?" Calvin30 could hear a smile start to crack, "then we should have a long ride."

  As they sped across the grey dunes, they communed the moments in silence while churning a great plume of dust behind them. The half-Earth hung high in the South.

  August, winner of three spins in the Luna Formula One, deftly steered around ejecta as they emerged through the high cliffs of the Plato Rim, then shot across an open Ocean of Rains towards the imposing Alpes Montes.

  They rode for half the day without much to say. Calvin30 laid back and played an ostinato to the night sliding across the Earth, from New York to LA. They drove past huge Hoppers with their trove of Helium-3 ore heading North from the shores of the Sea of Tranquillity. He waited for August to end the zen of their drive, which he finally did when the Plato Rim sunk safely out of view.

  “Dmitri. Did you know?”

  Sigh. Start wide to maximize unease. “Anyone from your early days ought to be thought to harbor misgivings.”

  “But Dmitri. Dmitri. I could always rely on him. The man was one of my best friends.”

  “A perilous occupation in this minion’s opinion.”

  “Don’t mess with me. Did you know?”

  “Know? No. Suspected? Yes.”

  “And you didn’t tell me. I could have died.”

  “Doubting your friend, would you have stayed sharp, or would you have been dulled by the dark?”

  “No. I had no idea. My eyes were everywhere but on him. The last person I would have thought.” The duplicity had sliced deep and August seemed suddenly sad.

  More pain more gain.

  “No
t so Boss. Your eyes were on the prize while other eyes were on him.”

  August’s face relaxed.

  “Helen?”

  “Can any man watch for attacks from behind his own back?”

  “But without Dmitri?”

  “Without Dmitri. Would you have been so strong on the stand without him, your ally, standing by your side?”

  August stopped accelerating. The Montes Alpes, framed against a deep absence of sky, shot up starkly before them.

  “No.”

  The Earth set behind the peaks as the silence seeped in.

  “As your humble servant, I am satisfied that you survived. And well it seems.”

  “Yes.” The conclusion was incontestable, but Calvin30 could see in August’s eyes how much that understanding cost.

  Ka-ching. As a soul dies an Angel somewhere earns his wings.

  August cruised on, lancing into torturous terrain flanking the Alpes. August did not decelerate as he plunged the buggy, twisting and bouncing, through the broken country. Calvin30 dug his digits into his seat, wondering whether he’d awakened some death wish whirling Dervish.

  Then the peaks leapt aside as they fell into a steep canyon, where a six-mile wide finger had swiped through the surrounding ranges.

  “Vallis Alpes, one of the few visible fault lines on the moon.” announced August, breaking the silence.

  “Spectacular.” Because it was.

  At that, August banked the buggy towards the valley wall and propelled them into it. Calvin30 braced for a crash when the mountain slid open and the brakes slammed on only after they were inside. The floodlights on the buggy illumined a gray tunnel plunging before them into the lunar crust. Still fairly freaked, Calvin30 the meek followed August as he left the buggy and walked into a waiting airlock on a small container office.

  "Welcome" exhorted August, popping open his visor to reveal a wide grin, "to my Bat cave. It’s an abandoned adit tunnel for one of our tantalum mines. Care for a cup of tea?"

  "I need to wash out my suit backside first."

  August laughed. His mood had modified.

  They ascended a stairway, which ended in a small kitchenette. August tipped a thermos into two tea mugs and motioned for Calvin30 to take one.

  He glared as Calvin30 squelched a grin and looked away. Having asserted his authority August smiled and his eyes widened greedily.

  "Wormhole?"

  "Yes," Calvin30 looked up again, grinning.

  August was quiet for a moment. "I see. From where?"

  "Scorpio 18."

  "How close is that?"

  "Near to here, around 45 light years."

  "How did they do it? Do you know?"

  "The mneme had full specs. It’s all been clipped."

  August brandished his victorious fist, stretched back on his stool and whistled. "No shit. Well, we did it."

  "There’s a catch." The best lies were grayer shades of true.

  August frowned.

  "Apparently, the wormhole has certain inherent instabilities that have the potential to be somewhat, um, dangerous."

  "What are we talking here?"

  "Don’t locate it too close anything we care about. For instance, the Earth. Safer to stash it in Space." Tell the whole truth and nothing but.

  “That bad?” August’s hair drooped.

  "The Gods of odds are with us. Large magnitude instabilities have only a minute probability of occurrence. Mankind has played chicken against much better chances of utter destruction. Hey, it’s not my racket to manage the risk. I’m just the messenger."

  At that he reached over and plopped the mneme cube in August’s offered hand. "I thought I’d best deliver this in person."

  "Good idea." August rolled the precious crystal in his fingers.

  They returned to the buggy and backed out of the mine shaft. Time stopped as Calvin30 watched sagacious thoughts wrestle for August’s soul.

  The Brother was taking the slow way home, stretching their trip closer than comfort to the empty on the oxygen gauge.

  But Calvin30, did he try to steer?

  No sir.

  Did he deem to intervene?

  No way.

  Did he preach a plan or beseech the man?

  Nuh uh.

  Was he moo-ooved by the Spirit to spare the Sphere, even if only to protect his own neck.

  He didn’t, man.

  No, he didn’t. And why? Why you ask? I’ll tell ya.

  Praise the Lord.

  That’s right. You heard the man. Praise the Lord. Because if ever there was a circumstance for HIM to manifest HIS Holy testament. To hold HIM to that rainbow vow told to Noah on the shore of The Promised Land. If HE was troth to the Love of the Lamb and was ever going to de-liver. That time was now.

  Now.

  Say it.

  Now.

  Sing it Sister.

  And she sang it, sang it sweet and sang it low, down that long, dry, dusty road home. To the Promised Land?

  That’s the One.

  After they arrived back at Luna City, loitering before the airlock, August looked deeply into the eyes of night to address the stars, his Masters, and with a voice hovering as close to contrition as modesty insisted, declared his intentions.

  "We can’t let the Directors decide on this. It must be fait’ accompli or they will steal it from me."

  And with that the Divine Creator drove HIS alpha up HIS omega and disappeared into Nothing.

  Into the pointy end Of the Pyramid.

  Back to where everything began.

  Self ACT-U-AL-I-SATION.

  Chapter 11 - Aurora

  Aurora woke early. The rest of her mates were tucked into their swags. As she unzipped the sound damping buckeygel sheet at the end of her tube she could hear Terry snoring below her. She climbed out and ducked into the main cabin and made herself a cup of tea. Denali activated and wandered over to nuzzle her legs. She carried her steaming mug into the forward observation module to watch the sunrise. Xiao Li was already there, as usual. Aurora sat down quietly beside her, and Denali collapsed on the floor with a grunt.

  "Morning Shel."

  "Hi Ror. How did you sleep?"

  "Well enough. Nice sunrise."

  "God blessing us with Her glory once again," Xiao Li replied matter-of-factly. Xiao Li carried her Christianity well. She wasn’t a Bible basher. For her, religion was simply a logical consequence of living, as natural as breathing. Whenever she wondered how the others carried on without it she seemed more curious than judgmental.

  "It is lovely." They sat together, quietly admiring the red and white vertical streaks of Elysium Chasma beginning its daily scintillations beneath the brightening orange sky.

  "Can I get you a cuppa?"

  "Thanks, Aurora."

  "White and none, right?"

  Xiao Li nodded.

  Aurora returned with her milky coffee and some sweet biscuits. She was grateful to her friend just for being. She wasn't sure of what to make of the twists and turns in her mind from yesterday but put them down to exhaustion. It seemed far away from the clean taste of the tea and the warmth sitting in both her hand and her soul.

  She meditated on the morning before them, content with each moment spent with her friend.

  "Shell, what do make of all of this? I mean, I know you believe that this is all part of the plan by the Big Guy upstairs. What do you figure is up with us being here?"

  "Oh, I don’t know Aurora, the Great Mysteries and all that. I don’t know that God runs things on the same level that we are familiar with. My best guess is that He just makes things possible - what we choose to make of the choices She gives us is up to us."

  They sat quietly awhile longer, sipping and chewing. The rising sun slowly spread its tentacles across the firmament. God’s morning exercise routine. Soon the main cabin behind them began to fill with rustling noises as the others began to stir, run showers, and cook breakfast.

  "Shell, do you think that there is any c
hance we’ll find life on Mars?"

  "Well, Aurora, the Good Lord has a lot of tricks up her sleeve and this would be a great waste of space if not."

  Xiao Li’s typically Chinese habit of switching pronouns mid-sentence had an interesting theological effect whenever she talked about the Almighty.

  "I don’t know Shell. The Good Lord seems to me to be much more liberal with space than with life."

  "Well, we’re here aren't we?"

  "Yes, I suppose that’s true." A worry began to niggle at her. "But we can’t really live here. I mean, these tubes and our suits are little pieces of Earth rocketed over here and we are just along for the ride. We can’t really be a part of all of this." Aurora gestured towards the view outside.

  "Can a nanobe or bacterium enjoy the sunrise Aurora? We are products of the same Creation as Mars, why shouldn't we belong here?"

  "Because we can’t stay." Aurora wiped away an involuntary tear. The unexpected emotionality took her aback.

  "You want to stay?"

  "Well, probably in the long run not as romantic as it seems now."

  "Here, have a tissue."

  "Ta," Aurora wiped her nose. "it’s just that it would be some consolation knowing that this world is not completely barren. That some living thing will still belong here when we leave. Do you know what I mean?"

  Xiao Li regarded her friend with concern. "Yes Aurora, I think I do."

  The sun rose higher, the carbon dioxide frost fading from the dunes as the temperature outside increased from hellish to merely a deep freeze.

  Xiao Li’s face appeared to moisten, as if they were chatting during a wet Winter’s day back home and not on a planet which was drier than any desert in Australia. The change activated Aurora’s suppressed thirst. Her friend was beautiful, glistening. Xiao Li’s features softened, like an Impressionist’s painting, and seemed to flow into the air, which was now water. Her hair appeared to swim, independent of gravity, like prehensile tendrils with a will of its own. Her face seemed to split into many faces, bobbing in invisible currents.

  "Aurora?"

  The concern in the voice focused Aurora’s attention on Xiao Li’s worried frown and her friend’s head merged back together.

  "Aurora? Are you okay?"

  "Yeah. Yeah Shel. Just. Nothing really."