‘And what then? What did the voice say?’
Jacob clasped his hands together and brought them up slowly to touch his lips, as if in quiet prayer. ‘It began to tell me something different. It told me to find it…to come to the new City.’
‘Nous-City?’ cried out Johan excitedly.
‘Yes, to Nous-City. It was then that I knew for sure I was one of those whom they call a Seeker.’ Jacob’s pensive face lifted up, and caught Rebekah’s look. It was a look he would not forget easily, no matter how many times he tried.
Zachary was standing outside in the central compound of Spring. Next to him stood Prentis, with his arms folded in his customary stance. From the central compound they could see the whole length of Spring, as each avenue trailed off as a tentacle from its central body. The central compound also housed the communal meeting hall where all community announcements were made. The two men would often meet here, and talk on matters pertaining to Spring. Both men trusted each other despite their difference in outlooks. Zachary, the eldest, was respected for his guidance and diplomacy. Before the Great Turning he had been a successful attorney and had championed civil rights. Now, with his grey tufts of hair, he was seen as the face of sobriety and calm assurance. Prentis, younger in years, was muscular, spoke little, and due to a military background was suspicious by nature. Yet he had been good at following orders.
‘We keep a close-knit community here, you know it,’ said Prentis.
‘I do.’ Zachary nodded his head.
‘Some people are weary of strangers.’
‘Like you?’ Zachary looked across at Prentis, who just shrugged.
‘People prefer to stay with what they know,’ continued Prentis.
‘People are afraid of any sign of change. They either want to fight change or ignore it. That’s how we got into this whole mess to begin with.’ Zachary tried to give a reassuring smile.
‘I’m not talking about the world. I’m talking about here, about Spring. The world’s already fucked. But what we have here we need to keep. And I mean we need to protect it.’
‘You don’t have faith, Prentis?’ The older man looked into the eyes of the younger.
Prentis shook his head and looked away. ‘I didn’t have faith then, and I sure don’t have it now.’
‘And the eschaton?’
‘Let it come down!’
TEN
The Great Turning had been hard upon the world, and did not occur without great sacrifice. Many of the world’s systems had been too slow to react and respond in time. There were breakdowns that caused unprecedented social unrest across the planet. It seemed that no culture was spared; no country could isolate itself from the impacts. The world had been fully globalized by then. The age of empires had passed. No one country dominated the globe, although one or two still raised their heads from time to time. Everything was interconnected and everyone had interests and dealings with each other. So when the systems began to fail, they created a convergence that imploded like a contagion through each part of the world. Nothing was spared. The great experiment upon the Earth to nurture a global society failed in its early steps and became instead the Great Turning. People suffered, yet it was not total anarchy as many had predicted. The governments tried their best to retain order, which was more successful in smaller nations. Larger land masses returned to a more tribal way of life, and people re-organized themselves as best they could. Many died. Perhaps it was a necessary tragedy. The Earth could no longer cope with such ways. People said it was the Earth culling her excess baggage. They said the people had caused this through their own destructive ways - and now the Earth was taking out her revenge.
There were many such stories, blame, accusations, and outcry. Yet no one had the answers; nor could they say why or wherefore. It was not one thing nor the other, but an accumulation of so many mistakes and disruptive human behaviour. Finally it all came together and suddenly tipped over, like lava from the volcano’s mouth. It was inevitable, yet so few ever saw it coming. They should have seen it coming. There were no excuses left - only laziness in the minds of people, a false sleep upon their blind eyes. Who can know how future history will judge the last great attempt to create a human civilization across the planet? Generations had finally arrived at an utter failure; and the planet revolted. The people squabbled amongst themselves for longer than they should have. There were others who just got on with rebuilding their lives. Life was harder in the big cities, and readjustment was cruel for many. Slum cities around the world fell into gang warfare and protectionism. The more well-off countries fared worse, which was seen by many as a deserved irony. The rich people sought out their own protected enclaves. A great many people returned to the countryside where their ancestors had been before the Industrial Revolutions. Many of those lands once considered as developing nations remained relatively stable. Their populaces were more accustomed to subsistence living. The world suddenly got smaller and more localized. Humanity had failed the world just as it was on the cusp of shifting into a new planetary era. Even the great technologies did not save humankind.
Many of the technologies were blamed for fuelling human hubris, for making humanity both lazier and greedier. Factories were attacked and smashed in what was reminiscent of the earlier 19th century Luddites. Autonomous machines were ritualistically tortured by mobs. Very few people realized just how much the world was dependent upon a hidden mesh of artificial intelligence. Algorithms ran everything. And when they were forced to close down, humanity became a helpless babble. Civilisation, it was revealed, existed by consensus. Social engineering was what made societies stable. Without algorithms – without social agreement – nothing was left. Except chaos.
11
Zuse-1 had called for a meeting in the Great Hall of Priests within the Circle Zone. All the priesthood of Nous-City were obliged to attend. Kaine-3 had arranged that everyone who needed to attend would be in attendance. Such gatherings had been rare so far in the history of the new city. In their flowing white robes, with the orange-yellow circle on the upper left breast, the priesthood quietly filled the great hall. When all were present and standing, Zuse-1 finally entered and walked down the aisle to the head of the hall where a small raised platform awaited him. The small grey curls of his hair had grown and now looked bushy. His white-grey beard was just long enough to lend authority without lacking discipline. Tall and lean, the Head Operator of Nous-City was both respected and, in some quarters, revered.
Zuse-1 cleared his throat in a customary manner.
‘Fellow brethren, fellow friends in the work, we are on a path of preparation. Whilst our priesthood is complete, there remain only a few fellow pilgrims out there in the fallen world. They are soon to arrive, and shall be among us to complete the brethren of Nous-City. There shall be no more of us, and no less. The Work must be achieved through the numbers we have. A concentrated minority has always been the tradition – so it has been, and so it will continue to be. As long as there are those of us upon the Earth, who understand the great evolutionary tradition, the Work will always continue to be. Humanity’s last experiment failed miserably, and brought all the civilizations on this world into collapse. They were not able to bridge the higher and lower worlds together. They remained within the density of material distraction. Upon arriving here, we each gained our revelation – we truly learned of our Work and of our destiny within it. We learned of the wisdom and guidance of DOC, and we each pledged our lives toward fulfilling the Unification – the purification, the preparation, and the immanence.’
Zuse-1 paused and scanned the great hall. Each participant stood deathly still, their gaze fixed and steadfast upon him. Their minds, he was sure, were processing his every word. Their loyalty was without doubt. Next to each priest was a cushion placed upon the floor. It was within this great hall where their communal meditations took place. The hall reverberated with a strong electromagnetic energy, as if concentrated in residue.
‘As I have my respons
ibility, so do you have yours,’ continued Zuse-1. ‘Whilst some of you remain within our Circle Zone, there are others with duties without. There are those of you who maintain functionality in the Triangle Zone and Square Zone. To you, I ask that you spread our message to all our brethren. Each zone must keep its Central Communal Meditation Chamber in active attendance. Our psychic unity is essential for our great Work. Our work within Nous-City shall bring in the next stage in the evolutionary unfolding. We have stepped beyond the task of humanity. Will you repeat these words to our brethren and help the Work of immanence and unification?’
A firm YES filled the hall in unison like a murmured mantra.
‘Let us unify our minds and bring forth.’ Zuse-1 stepped down from his small platform and sat upon a floor cushion next to it. Those within the hall seated themselves similarly. A great intense silence descended.
The Great Hall of Priests became a communal mind. A field of psychic force was contained within its carefully crafted geometrical walls. Like a perfect container, it held its contents in strength and focus.
DOC was monitoring all emanations.
TWELVE
Zachary came through the door into the dwelling. He kissed his wife Rebekah and his son Johan, and sat down at the table to eat.
‘How was your first day of work, Seeker?’ asked the older man.
‘I was happy to work, to contribute,’ replied Jacob.
Zachary nodded as though he understood.
‘Without work, where are we in this world?’
‘Everybody needs a purpose, something to drive them forward.’
Johan, as before, was sitting close to Jacob so as to be sure to catch his every word. He didn’t want to miss a vocal morsel as it left his mouth.
‘And that’s something which you have, Seeker. You are lucky in that respect. There is a great void in the world, a great emptiness. It was there before the Great Turning, and it is still with us. We have not yet learned how to fill that space.’
‘Or why.’ Jacob paused. ‘I don’t consider my need, my search, something that is lucky. I have it. It’s been there as long as I can remember. Maybe it was a gift, maybe not. I have it, and that’s all I know. But the emptiness in the world is another thing. That’s why we need the eschaton.’
Zachary sighed as he looked over at his family. ‘Maybe that’s why we had the Great Turning, the end of the world as we knew it, to bring in a new order. A new god’s world.’
‘Maybe it doesn’t need to be god’s world,’ interrupted Johan.
Rebekah walked over and gently put her hand on Johan’s shoulder. ‘Don’t interrupt the men, dear, when they are talking.’ She shot Zachary an uneasy glance.
‘No, its okay, its fine,’ said Jacob reassuringly. ‘Let the boy speak.’
Johan smiled over at Jacob. ‘I mean, why must it be a world for god when he may not be here? We are here. Maybe we are here in god’s place, to do his work for him. So that makes it our world too. It’s something we have to do, don’t we?’ Johan looked over to his father.
‘Well son, you are right in some things. We people do have to do something. We can’t just wait around to die. But to immanentize the eschaton; well, that’s just not something for us.’
‘Or maybe it is,’ said Jacob, and winked at Johan.
Jacob politely declined his evening meal, saying he did not need to eat more than one lunch per day. He rose from the table and excused himself from the dwelling. He headed outside as a mandarin-dusk sky closed in.
Zachary’s lodging was close to the central compound as a reflection of his status in the community. Several lanes of single-story housing trailed off. Jacob walked casually, without aim, down one of the lanes. The natural light of the evening sky was dimming. Along the sides of the lane Jacob noticed that there were tall lamps, or rather they looked like beacons, filled with flammable material. They had already been prepared, and now no doubt waiting to be lit for the night vigil. There was a sense of the medieval about the settlement, as if a fragment of the world had been pushed back along its timeline, devolved to a bygone state. There were a few people in the street, passing by, heading to their own dwellings, settling in for the night. An autumn evening chill was moving in, descending upon Spring as if marking territory. As Jacob turned at the end of the lane he saw a larger building across from him; above its door hung a strange circular symbol. As Jacob moved closer he saw that the windows of the building were made up from various panes of coloured glass.
Jacob tried the door and it opened in his hand. He stepped quietly inside. He saw that the roof was higher than he had expected, and was propped with multiple exposed wooden beams. Rows of basic wooden benches lined the main hall. At the end of the hall was a raised platform. Things have not changed much. Jacob recognized the building as a place for worship. Whatever was worshipped here he could not tell. If it was a place for worshipping the coming eschaton, then it did nothing to show this.
Jacob moved toward the platform then stopped suddenly as he heard a voice ring out from behind him.
‘Immanentize the eschaton!’
Jacob turned to see that a tall, thin man had entered the hall from a side door. He stood and smiled at Jacob, yet did not approach.
‘Immanentize the eschaton,’ replied Jacob. There was then an awkward pause. Again, the tall man neither moved nor spoke. ‘I am a Seeker. My name is Jacob. I come in service. I come to purify me for the preparation. I come in peace.’
The tall man nodded. ‘Yes, I know who you are, Seeker. You are the one who has just arrived amongst us.’ There was an odd cadence to the tall man’s voice, neither accusing nor friendly and yet hovering somewhere between the two.
It was Jacob who took the first step, in the direction of the tall man. ‘Are you in charge of this place?’ he asked.
The man’s mouth upturned into a tight, slanted smile. ‘In charge, no – that belongs to a higher power! Its custodian, perhaps you could say.’
‘This is a place for worship. Is your faith in the eschaton?’ Jacob was now standing a few feet away from the man. He was lean, had a thin hairless face, and looked younger than his years. He looked wanting, or lacking, as if he had never quite found the nourishment he needed.
The man squinted.
‘I am Eli. I am a missionary of the faith, but I am not a Seeker like you. My call is not with the fantastical, but with a faith that can bring solutions.’ Eli walked past Jacob and went over to the platform. He turned around and pointed up to an image painted upon the back wall of the hall. Jacob looked at it and saw that it was the same circular symbol he had seen above the door before entry.
‘And this circle is your faith?’ asked Jacob.
‘The most reliable faith there is, Seeker. It is the faith of renewal, of reoccurrence. It teaches us to think in ways long forgotten; forgotten to our detriment.’
‘How so?’
‘The Great Turning was a result of our shameless progress. We raced forward, always further, always more, always reaching for greater returns on everything. This was the fault of our linear thinking. But real history teaches us that everything moves in cycles, that epochs come and pass, and new ones arise.’
‘So you are, or you were, a history teacher?’
Eli winced. ‘Nice one, Seeker. You are quick. Yes, I once was; and that too has passed. I learned to find my new faith through my studies – through the evidence, the facts. The Great Turning was never the end of the world. It was the end of one cycle of the world as we knew it. Like leaves that fall from a tree, we need a stripping away before we can have renewal.’ Eli opened the cotton-woven shirt at the chest and displayed a leather lace that bore the circular pendant. ‘This is new hope, Seeker. Humanity must be humbled before it can repeat another cycle.’
‘And where is the hope?’ Jacob noticed that his voice sounded small amidst the large open space of the hall. Eli had now moved onto the raised platform and with his extra height appeared to loom over him.
Eli raised his hands to his side, and flashed his palms.
‘Hope,’ he bellowed, ‘is in the grace given to us to start over again. This time we shall learn from history’s mistakes’
Darkness had encroached upon Spring, shrinking it into a sheltering sanctuary. Out beyond the perimeter fence remained another world raging against the dying of the light. Upon the watchtowers guards stood eyeing the invisible distances, not knowing what lay beyond. There was hope in Spring, and yet Jacob felt it lay merged with suspicion, uncertainty, and apprehension. One thing was clear, the world would never – could never – be the same again, whether the cycle came around full circle or not.
THIRTEEN
The world’s technological achievements had become many. Human civilization had reached an unprecedented level in what was technologically possible. Astounding advancements in human and human-related technology was at a peak. Humanity thought they were destined for the stars. And then the stars came crashing down.
Through all of this, a new birth emerged. When the world collapsed outwardly, the new direction became inward. A new faith arose from the ashes of the Great Turning.
The new faith spread quickly. There was no shortage of missionaries, for they gained favour amongst the populace. The new faith gave renewed hope to those who had lost theirs. It seemed to be the one essential feature of humankind - an eternal longing. Such longing had been largely forgotten during times of prosperity and entertainment. The world had become its own faith: a surrogate for the internal need. The human species had largely satiated its need for connection and communion through distraction and pleasure. The old established religious orders had long ago lost their faith. They had become themselves centres of power and corruption. And so they lost their place in the world. They were the first institutions to be washed away in the Great Turning.
The Seeker Page 3