Mesopotamia - The Redeemer

by Yehuda Israely

  Truth told them about the genius Adamas, who revived the ancient Gnosis, established the New Gnostic Order and taught his disciples to believe that their mission was to release the void, the spirit, from its material prison shell. When Truth taught Smoke that the world he was living in was inherently evil, filled with endless suffering and in need of being put out of its own misery, Smoke finally felt as if someone had articulated what he had already known for so long.

  Smoke delved into the teachings of Adamas. He thirstily drank in Truth's stories about the aftermath of the Human Gods' Wars. When Adamas established the Gnostic compound in Uruk in the year 2195 It was a closed community that attracted anarchists, charismatic despots and communities of witches that dabbled in magic throughout planet Earth. Adamas revived ancient Gnostic practices such as the tattooing of the back of the right earlobe as well as inventing new rituals to express the void, such as the Walk Along the Abyss. Thus, it became clear to Smoke that his failed suicide attempt on the roof of the command center was, in fact, a fulfillment of Adamas' teachings, and had constituted his first step toward becoming a true Gnostic. Smoke believed in Adamas' prediction that in the end of days, a redeemer would appear, a materialization of the Supreme God on Earth. The Gnostics referred to him as 'Pure Spirituality', 'The Silence', 'The Non-Existence', 'The Prime Father' and 'The Unknown'. When the redeemer would arrive, the loop of time would be closed, past and present would become one, cause and effect would be inseparable and the reality of nothingness would be released from its material prison.

  Most of Shadow's defensive forces were marked as destroyed as Smoke's pilots sat on Flash's pilots' tails. With his unpredictable high speed maneuvers, Smoke left a sizable gap between his aircraft and those of his pursuers. Smoke loved vanishing and relished the arbitrariness of his escape tactics, easily and fluidly executing his maneuvers with relaxed muscles. Just as he thought that victory was imminent and that he would soon become a Gnostic leader, the ship's computer malfunctioned and the engines went out.

  In a matter of a split second, he tightened his muscles and directed the vessel toward the distant Earth in hope of harnessing the gravitational force and using it to stabilize himself. Flash's virtual missiles came increasingly closer to Smoke's aircraft. He continued to navigate the plane's spiraling descent with his right hand, while pushing switches and checking his indicators with his left hand in order to locate the source of the problem and set it back in working order. He reviewed the emergency procedures by heart but realized that he had never encountered a similar problem before. Beads of sweat ran down his forehead, blurring his vision, while his blood thundered in his ears. His mouth went dry and his knees trembled, but he did not give up. The implications of the malfunction went far beyond this ceremonial training exercise. He could accept a dignified loss, but this failure would end in certain death. If he did not escape or recover in a matter of seconds, he would spin out of control and the intensifying gravitational force would accelerate his speed until he will be incinerated in the Earth's atmosphere. He had resolved to die a martyr's death, but if he did not exercise everything in his power to prevent it, this death would not be martyrdom.

  Truth watched the development and his heart skipped a beat. If he did not intervene, Smoke would be pulled into the Earth's gravity and would burn up in the atmosphere. 'It is forbidden to assist falling warriors. It is forbidden to assist falling warriors,' he repeated to himself. 'I am the commander of this ship,' he said to himself as if to be convinced. For a few excruciating seconds, he gaped at the display that indicated the danger in which Smoke was caught. He looked at Smoke's activity log and identified the source of the malfunction. 'But it cannot be—the bypass system has been purposefully shut off. He can't get out of this one. He wouldn't even realize that this is the problem.' He repeated to himself, 'Let him fall. It is his destiny.' His hands, though, seemed to move with a mind of their own. They engaged the emergency system.

  Smoke was baffled. Could it be that the malfunction had just vanished? Was the ship capable of fixing itself? But before he had a chance to finish his thought, he was forced to quickly maneuver out of the way to avoid a direct hit from Flash, just as another one of Smoke's pilots marked Flash's ship, the last remaining ship of the offensive force, as destroyed.

  Truth commanded “Halt!” and the exercise was over. Smoke's aircraft bore no signs of being hit. The stress he experienced when dealing with the malfunction, though, had caused his muscles to go stiff. He rubbed his arms, breathed heavily, moistened the inside of his mouth and slowly began to realize the gravity of his very presence. At the command of 'Return!' the pilots rejoined their spiral formation and slowly cruised to a landing in the father ship.

  Like a proper Gnostic warrior, Smoke had performed all the technical checks himself before embarking on the ceremonial exercise. 'It cannot be that the malfunction appeared and subsequently disappeared with no outside intervention,' he ruminated over the incident. And nonetheless, something disturbed him. 'Perhaps I did not examine my aircraft with the sufficient meticulousness, or perhaps, in my excitement, I overlooked a small but crucial detail.' From the moment that he examined his vessel up until he entered the cockpit for takeoff, Smoke's aircraft had been exposed and accessible. It was possible that someone could have sabotaged it, but who would have wanted to do that? In the little time that remained before the ceremony, he remained alone on the landing field and examined his aircraft. He discovered nothing; no malfunction and no signs of tampering. 'Very strange,' he mused.

  The summer flies were at their peak as they quenched their thirst courtesy of the sweating pilots, who stood upright and motionless. Hundreds of junior soldiers surrounded the parade field, shooting glances of admiration at the chosen warriors and taking care not to look at the women behind them. The women, like the Gnostic men, were captured at a young age and were trained to worship the ideal of nullification in the service of the Master of Light. They also took fertility inhibitors as part of their morning blessing to the Master of Light. Some of them never reached maturity due to the brutal conditions and others were put to death if their counselors felt that they were not sufficiently devout. They had a distinct purpose in the Gnosis: to serve the sacred warriors. The women were responsible for the economy of the compound and tended to all the mundane tasks as well as the charge of raising the smaller children. They were forbidden, however, from interfering in their education and resided in complete seclusion from the men. Since creation was considered impure, having children was forbidden. Kidnapping children who easily lent themselves to reeducation was their only means of growing their future forces.

  Gnostic women encountered men only when they were required to provide sexual services or to participate in religious ceremonies. In honor of the appointment of the deputy to the commander, the women were permitted to come out of their dwellings and behold him.

  “The troops will straighten for the entrance of the ship's father. Lines straight!” ordered the announcer.

  Everyone stretched upright, their flexible flight overalls glistening in the sunlight. The crowd rustled.

  Truth stepped slowly across the square. He scanned the pilots, who stood erect in front of their planes; the warriors of the badger units, standing beside their hovercrafts; and the infantry, loaded with equipment and arms. They were taut like a bowstring in anticipation of his piercing gaze. He paused to question them, to test their preparedness for battle. What are the coordinates you must recognize, how much time are you permitted, what procedures will be performed in the event of the myriad malfunctions you must handle, and so on.

  Truth looked directly into the eyes of each pilot and warrior he examined. The warriors lowered their eyes, save for when he approached them; then his gaze penetrated their souls. They sensed the intensity that he projected. He knew that they would follow him to the depths of the netherworld.

  Throughout the entire parade, not a muscle flinched on the leader's face. He was famous for his courage and
bravery, a legend among the Gnostic warriors. They all knew about what had happened in Ur.

  Over a decade beforehand, the Gnostics expanded their territory in the East. During the first stage, they prepared to conquer all of the major cities within the Uruk-Jerusalem-Istanbul triangle, followed by the second stage in which they planned to continue to spread eastward toward Iran and India and then westward to Europe. The predominant aspect of the plan was its cruelty. Truth aroused such fear in the local residents that many of them fled or simply surrendered without a fight. Thus, cities such as Baghdad and Amman fell into their hands with hardly a casualty on the Gnostic side. The battles usually began with heavy shelling from the air. Afterwards, forces became active on the ground, killing anyone who crossed their path and looting any property that could contribute to the war effort.

  The town of Ur had been crushed in the repeated bombings. Most of its inhabitants were killed or had fled. A handful of families remained in the ancient walled quarter. Pasha Zaman, who had led many rebellions against the Gnostics in the past, established a small but stubborn rebel militia. The rebels captured two scouts from the badger unit and tortured the warriors to death. Their mangled corpses were hung out for all to see in order to proclaim the rebels' power against the Gnostics. When Truth heard the news, he left the command center and sped toward Ur. He took with him about twenty warriors from the unit and attacked that very night. The badgers that were at the scene recounted that they had never seen anything like it. Without even firing one shot and with skill, speed and restrained fervor, Truth and his soldiers slit the throat of every single person and animal that crossed their path. In the span of half an hour, the entire old city was consumed by fire. The air hung thickly with a miasma of smoke and death.

  Truth's face was perpetually frozen, be it during a warrior's funeral or a festive ceremony such as the appointment of his deputy. Not a single expression could be seen across his face. Truth approached the final row of the parade. He paused next to one of the young warriors, who were trembling in fear. Truth laid a hand on his shoulder and waited until the young boy stopped shaking. Only then did he continue to pass between the rows.

  When he returned and stood in his place, the announcer proclaimed, “The father of the ship will now speak.”

  Truth began: “Gnostic pilots, badgers, warriors, command staff and women of the management. You are Gnostics, carrying the torch of our ancestors. We alone can uphold the commandment of the Master of Light, who accompanied mankind for thousands of years. Gnostic warriors are brave. The struggle for Earth continues. Go on your path, fulfill the duties you have been assigned and thusly we shall progress one step further toward refining the galaxy from its impurity.

  “Only through your lofty efforts can we hasten the day in which we shall redeem the spirit from the material, the spark from the shell. Only by the valor of your spirit shall the entire galaxy bask in the light of our holy Lord.

  “You are all essential and without you there is no Gnosis. We all depend on each other and yet, among the warriors, the pilots bear the majority of the burden of fulfilling our mission. The pilots who operate alone in the darkness of space are required to cultivate infinite precision and concentration, blind obedience, and boundless patience...”

  Smoke was feeling the test of patience. The rivulets of sweat that were pouring out of his skin under the hot sun attracted swarms of flies, which annoyed him to no end. He restrained himself and did not avert his gaze in order to see how his colleagues were dealing with the nuisance. He clenched his jaw and remained planted to the ground, but he could not focus on Truth's speech. A sense of guilt unsettled him. He was not worthy of standing next to the other warriors in the parade. He was surprised when he heard his name.

  “…And Smoke surpassed them all. He displays great resourcefulness; the manner in which he distributed his forces and drew out the enemy was genius; and especially his virtuoso evasion skills, with which we are all familiar, prove time and time again what we have known all along: Smoke is the most revered leader among his warriors, the most devoted to our cause. Thus, he deserves to bear the title of 'deputy'.”

  Smoke was embarrassed. He did not envision that he was going to be chosen for the position of deputy. Before the exercise, his chances were indeed higher than the others, but then the malfunction happened. 'It cannot be that Truth did not notice the malfunction on his display,' he contemplated. 'And even if he hadn't, it's impossible that he did not later identify the problem in the computerized investigations following the exercise.'

  Truth stood opposite him, as if oblivious to the cloud of flies surrounding him. The crowd cheered when Truth affixed the yellow lapel on to the front of Smoke's shiny overalls and stuck it on with a pat. He placed both his hands on Smoke's head and announced loudly, “In the darkness of the material we shall know the light!”

  The audience repeated the battle cry unanimously. “In the darkness of the material we shall know the light!”

  Following the end of the ceremony, Smoke distanced himself from the well-wishers who sought him out. He was ashamed of himself. He knew that he was not worthy to lead after failing to be sufficiently thorough in his technical inspection before the flight. To make matters worse, he did not stand up like a true Gnostic ought to do and refuse to accept the title of deputy. He continued to march toward the outlying peripheries of the compound until he unintentionally found himself in the ship's parking lot.

  He searched for a long time in the bowels of his ship until he found what he was looking for. It was a button from a pilot's uniform. His conclusion was clear: 'Someone was here.' Despite the searing pain he felt about the way in which someone tried to betray him, he felt a sense of relief: at least he had not won the coveted title illegally.

  Upon his return to his quarters in the father ship, he was stopped by Shadow, who smiled and patted his new leadership lapel on his chest. Despite his gloom, Smoke tried to smile and held his hand out to shake that of his friend, when he noticed a thin metal pin fastening the straps of the overalls where a button had popped off under the pressure of Shadow's belly. At that moment, Smoke vented all of the tension from the flight along with the fury of his shame, planting a well-aimed blow on Shadow's chin. The startled Shadow fell to the ground. The giant tried to get up but Smoke's rage had seemingly increased his size and he kicked him in the chest, slamming him onto the ground once more.

  “Smoke!” screamed the startled Shadow when he managed to catch his breath.

  “Silence, traitor!” Smoke cut him off.

  “What did you call me?” Shadow's eyes widened in bewilderment.

  “If it were up to you, I wouldn't be here.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Smoke removed the button from his pocket. “Does this look familiar to you?”

  Smoke instinctively looked down at the missing button on his flight overalls and then back at Smoke.

  “I don't know what you were trying to do, but it didn't work.” Smoke put the button in his pocket, turned on his heel and left Shadow splayed on the floor.

  In a small warehouse for spare parts, in a remote corner of the compound free of cameras or microphones, Flash waited anxiously. Abyss and Spark, two senior commanders, had already arrived at the meeting, each one separately. They waited in silence for a long while until five additional commanders crept inside one by one after having secretly slipped away from their positions. The air in the warehouse was dense and warm. They ignored their unavoidable sweat. They felt nothing but sacred awe at the occasion. Each one of them secretly believed that he was the most prominent liege of the Master of Light. Each one of them prided himself in belonging to the secret order: after all, they were the chosen ones who swore to preserve the purity of the Gnosis. Some of the men sat on supply crates, some sat on the floor while others stood on their feet.

  They were joined by Thunder, entering at a brisk pace. Chief of the father ship's operational headquarters, Thunder was a lean man of high
stature with severe facial features and eyes that continuously scanned his surroundings like cameras. They were surprised at his presence, since they knew that Thunder was Truth's confidant. Thunder worked side by side with Truth for years. He was meticulous, inflexible, strict about anything discipline-related and always enforced the rules; his subordinates feared him. No one wanted to cross paths with the draconian senior officer.

  Flash addressed them. “Dear comrades. We have the privilege of belonging to the most secretive and important order in the Gnostic community.” He paused for a moment and then announced in an authoritative voice, “The Brotherhood of Purity.”

  They nodded their heads in self-importance.

  “Unfortunately, we do not know who we can trust, but fortunately, the number of Gnostics who understand the danger is steadily increasing. Many Gnostics, including those who rank in senior positions in the chain of command, understand the importance of the Brotherhood and the dangers that lurk before us. We extend our welcome to one of Truth's most senior officers, Thunder, who has fought bravely, whose forces have conquered large portions of Earth and who enjoys the privilege of every Gnostic's trust. Thunder, it is a great honor that you have joined us in our crusade for purity.” Flash bowed his head to Thunder.

  “Thanks you, Flash. I am only fulfilling my duty to the Master of Light,” replied Thunder.

  “It pains me to inform you that the Gnosis is not as pure as it ought to be,” continued Flash.

  His speech was interrupted by whispers and murmurs.