Mesopotamia - The Redeemer

by Yehuda Israely

  She felt grateful toward the mysterious stranger yet she also pitied him. She noticed that maybe he was falling in love with her and perhaps not exactly with her per se. 'He is aloof and has no roots. It's no wonder that he is developing feelings toward me. I am the only human connection in his life.'

  Her thoughts were cut short by the sound of a noise coming from the door's threshold. The display showed the stranger's tense face. Now she would have to disappoint him. She sat down and slipped on her clothes.

  “Open!” she instructed the station's computer and the door opened.

  He burst into the room in frenzy. “My name is Enosh. I am Socratic, and I arrived here from the Atheist planet Dust.”

  She was so shocked that she was unable to respond. He continued, “I am the Socratics' chief expert on consciousness. I was sent here in order to warn you about a Gnostic invasion.”

  “What? Gnostics? What invasion are you talking about?” She struggled to understand. How come he suddenly remembered now? Could she even believe him? Could it be that in spite of everything, Thales had been correct to assume that he was an impostor or Gnostic spy?

  Enosh took a deep breath. 'Slow down,' he told himself. “Let's sit,” he said. They sat beside the dining table in the corner.

  “Sophia, the Socratic intelligence has gathered information regarding a Gnostic plot to mount a takeover of Samos.”

  “Wait, what do you mean, a takeover?” she interrupted.

  “Please, listen to me and I will explain everything,” he said while looking steadily into her eyes. She nodded.

  The Socratic recounted the story of the module. She shuddered as he told her about her father's fate in Uruk, Sin's plan to destroy the compound and how her father carried it out in his stead. He also told her about Sin's arrival on the planet Dust and the circumstances that prevented him from coming to Octavia. She struggled to absorb and contain all of this new information. She felt bombarded by a dizzying array of emotions and facts, but she remained undeterred: it was her duty to think practically and understand the significance of his words.

  “If this is true, then why didn't the Socratic Council inform us prior to your arrival?” she probed.

  “The communication gap was too wide, but that is not the reason why I am relaying the information in person. We could have sent a probe as a delivery station, but there is a reason for my presence that I will reveal to you shortly.” He took a deep breath.

  “How can I trust you?” she asked, and secretly hoped that he was an impostor who had made up the whole invasion story. She debated whether to summon Thales and his scouts but decided to wait.

  Enosh removed his left shoe. He twisted a tiny knob in the shoe's heel and the sole slid to one side, revealing a tiny compartment. He pulled out a yellowing paper laminated in transparent plastic.

  “This is yours,” he said, handing it to her.

  “What it is?” she asked.

  “Read it,” he replied confidently.

  Sophia held the page in astonishment and began to read aloud.

  “On the second of August, 2260, and with a sound mind, I, Attar the Pythagorean, am writing the following words with the awareness that I shall soon perish.” Sophia's hands shook and a large lump choked her throat. She raised her eyes from the page and stared at Enosh. He nodded and she resumed reading.

  “During my work, I was kidnapped by Gnostics, who imprisoned me in the Uruk complex. The Godly spark has passed over this cursed place. In all my days, I have never seen such ignorance and such evil. They planned to torture me, extracting any information from me that may serve their purposes and finally, to kill me.

  “But here I found Sin, who informed me of their plans. They had been formulating and developing these plans over the years and were now in their final stages. The Gnostic scientists had developed a module that, paired with the processor, could annihilate the entire galaxy. Sin opposed the plan, but he realized that the only way he could thwart the plan was by blowing up the complex. He decided that this was what he must do, even if it cost him his own life. I succeeded in convincing him to escape so that he could warn humanity about what was happening in Uruk. I explained to him that I should carry out the explosion in his place, since my life had already reached its end anyway. Sin is a brave man and my friend; you can trust him.

  “Orithea my wife: I was lucky to live by your side and every moment we spent together is eternal. I await you in another dimension and another time, I promise.

  “My daughter, Sophia,” Sophia struggled to continue reading. She recognized his handwriting, which quivered through the moisture in her eyes. “I love you always. Even when you were very young, I could see that your wisdom is matched by your benevolence. I am certain that you will fulfill your dreams. I will stand proudly by your side at the future milestones in your life as you become a Pythagorean woman fulfilling her purpose.

  “My heart only feels compassion for the poor Gnostics languishing here on Earth. Their anger spawns deep hatred. We must consider our role and take action toward the rectification of the injustice committed against them.

  “I have no sorrow in my heart. My destiny has brought me here. I was blessed to be able to fulfill my purpose in this incarnation. My final wish for you is not to fear. Eternity can be found in the infinite segmentation of each moment, in the participation in the chain reaction called life. Live your life and discover eternity.

  I depart from you with everlasting love,

  Attar.”

  In her mind's eye, Sophia could see her father standing over her as she remembered him from her childhood: tall, calm and loving. The emotional outburst overwhelmed her and she sobbed. Enosh embraced her and she clutched him tightly. After a few long minutes, she let go of him.

  “Thank you.” She slowly sipped the glass of water he had handed to her. He looked at her expectantly. He now understood the significant process that she had undergone in the past few days.

  “How did you get hold of that letter? Why haven't I seen it until now?” Some of the questions that were racing through her mind began to trickle outward.

  “I will tell you about the letter. I'll tell you everything,” he said. His voice had changed. An air of confidence and authority that had previously been absent now hung about his words.

  “With my probing questions I awakened in you pain over the loss of your father. I burdened you by showing my feelings toward you. I guided you into a state of confusion that enabled you to feel and be aware of your feelings. But most of all, it is your love for Thales that undermines your Pythagorean faith.”

  'How does he know?' she wondered. “Excuse me? How dare you tell me what I feel!” she seethed.

  “I'm sorry, I know how it looks. I am crassly intruding into your private life. But it's critical.”

  “Critical for what, exactly? And how is the letter connected to all this?” Sophia accused emphatically. Conflicting thoughts raced through her head. She wanted to deny his words, to banish him from the station and never see his face again. But at the same time, she recognized sincerity in his words. The intuition that had always guided her in the past urged her to trust him. His eyes revealed dedication and benevolence. Something within her wanted to know the truth, as difficult at that may be.

  “Critical for our future,” he said, and she discerned fear in his voice.

  CHAPTER 10

  A great storm raged in the remote Soka mountains on the planet Dust, threatening to wrench control of the hovercrafts away from their drivers; it had actually happened only months earlier. The fierce wind threatened to hurl the hovercraft convoy toward the tall coniferous trees lining the path leading to the depths of the forest. There was no choice but to lower the wheels and switch to traditional ground driving mode. Sitting in the back bench, this didn't bother Enosh and Diotima in the slightest. The consciousness expert and the Minister of Defense were deep in conversation. The driver was concentrating on the winding road, and wouldn't have understood the code wo
rds and private jokes they were exchanging in any case; they were the product of a strong and enduring friendship.

  There were no identifying marks on their destination nor on the security team that guarded it. It did not appear on any map. The armed sentry at the entrance to what looked like an isolated and well-kept farm was expecting them. He requested that the driver of the hovercraft leading the entourage identify himself according to protocol and then opened the gate.

  They drove along the path into the forest. On the side of the mountain, susceptible to the fierce winds, stood a small cabin topped by a smoking chimney. The scene looked like it came right out of an old fashioned postcard.

  They arrived at Sin's house. This house had served as his jail from the moment he landed on Dust decades earlier. Filan, the Atheist president, would never have disclosed Sin's presence to the world. He certainly would not have allowed anyone to see him, not even the Minister of Defense. But ever since the day Diotima found out about the matter, she campaigned for his release. She objected to the freedom that he had been deprived despite innocence. She continued to raise the subject in vain, despite Filan's firm refusal. She was forced to wait for a window of opportunity, one that finally presented itself in light of the imminent danger now threatening Filan's fortune as a result of the Gnostic threat. Only then did he agree to permit a meeting with the prisoner.

  The driver stayed inside the heated hovercraft. The security team stepped out, scanned the area and dispersed around the building. The formidable security guards did not move, despite the wind and rain. The head of the team opened Diotima's door. Diotima and Enosh emerged from the hovercraft, holding onto one another against the gusts of wind while the slanted raindrops pricked at their exposed faces. Upon reaching the iron gate, Diotima pulled the cord and heard a brass bell announce their arrival inside the cabin. A curtain was pushed aside and a head with long white hair peered out at them. The curtain fell back in place. The old man opened the door and, leaning on his cane, walked slowly along the path leading to the gate, his long hair fluttering in the wind. Despite his hunched back and wrinkled face, his smile was childlike. He knew that Diotima would not rest until he was released.

  “I've been expecting you. Come in.” He leaned on Diotima's arm while Enosh walked behind them. “It's nice to finally meet you. Your letters inspire hope in me.”

  “The pleasure's all mine. I hope our next meeting will be in my home,” replied Diotima.

  He introduced them to his smiling wife Simone, who offered them barley bread with a legume spread, radishes and fresh shallots. He explained that he and his wife cultivated most of the ingredients and prepared the food themselves. When she finished serving, Simone sat down close to him. He clasped her hand without shame. Sin told them of Filan's betrayal, how the president had forced him into confinement and because of this, Sin had not been able to keep his promise to Atar and deliver the message to the Pythagoreans. Enosh wondered why Filan had even left Sin alive. Did Sin seem like an asset to him? Or maybe he couldn't find a way to kill him without the blame falling on him. Or maybe there was a limit even to Filan's heartlessness.

  Simone placed steaming mugs of tea brewed from a mixture of wild mountain herbs on the large crate that served as a table. Sin added a log to the fire, lit his pipe and changed the subject to the purpose of his guests' visit. Simone disappeared into the adjoining room.

  Diotima told him about the Gnostics, who were once again working on developing the module, and about the Atheists' military preparations.

  “How can I help you?” asked Sin.

  “Tell us anything you know about the Gnostic culture that may help us prepare for war with them,” asked Enosh. “The Atheists recruited us so that we can try and influence the Pythagoreans to defend themselves and so that we can try and persuade the Gnostics to make peace. To that end, any scrap of information about the Gnostics could be very important.”

  “Tell me more about yourselves, the Socratics,” the old man requested.

  Enosh detailed for him the Socratic training procedures, explaining the strategy of influence from consciousness to consciousness and spoke about his intention to personally arrive in Samos. Despite Sin's advanced age and his isolation on the mountain, he exhibited remarkable knowledge about the ways of life of the different cultures and soon understood the logic behind the Socratic system. The fragrant tobacco smoke mingled with the smoke from the cedar in the fireplace. He puffed his pipe and replied, “While you have a far better command of diplomacy than I do, it is possible that I may be able to give you a deeper understanding of the internal struggles within the culture.”

  Diotima and Enosh waited attentively.

  “The Gnostics' name precedes them; they are a rough and cruel people with fanatic ideology, absolute discipline and a structured military hierarchy that cannot be shaken.”

  Diotima and Enosh nodded.

  “You know that they sanctify the principle of the nullification of the universe. They are devoted heart and soul to the Master of Light, the Supreme God, and the Aeons under his command, as well as to the leaders who represent the Aeons on Earth. You must understand the secret of Gnostic charm; if it were possible to isolate this charm from the devastation, you might extract something from it to benefit the people of Dust. As you know, Dust has been struck by a severe wave of depression. The secret of the charm is in devotion. You, the Atheists, have no method, technique, or procedure to express devotion. Materialism, fashion, money, even knowledge, cannot tempt you toward devotion. You have tried to create an artificial value system that will infuse meaning into people's lives, but the wave of depression has not subsided. These goals are nothing compared with the privilege of serving the Gnostic God, the Master of Light. Please, drink your tea.”

  “Thank you,” said Enosh.

  “And despite everything, it might not necessarily be that way.” He noisily gulped his boiling tea and continued. “Despite the sanctity of their common goal, individual Gnostics still compete for prestige and become involved in intrigues. The prestige stems from a Gnostic's piety and devotion to the holy cause. A Gnostic's value rises with his seniority, that is, if he was either adopted at a young age or if he is a descendant of the original Gnosis. His prestige increases if he is close to someone well known, someone with seniority and lineage.” He blew several clouds of smoke and continued. “Another thing that stands out in their internal struggles is the tendency towards conspiracies and subterfuge. Yaldabaoth's subversion of Ishtar is central to the Gnostic myth. Contrary to the instructions of his mother Ishtar, Yaldabaoth fashioned man from a lump of raw material and blew life into him. I assume you are proficient in Gnostic mythology.”

  Diotima nodded.

  “Adamas' subversion of Orpheus is no coincidence. Orpheus discovered that hidden within every minute particle are hidden universes, and that there is a constant ratio between the smallest particle and the universe that contains it. This formula has physical and geometrical applications. Adamas stole the formula for An, the creation constant. This all fits very well with the Gnostics' tradition of subterfuge. The Gnosis was founded on the basis of the original, mythological and historical subversion, and that's why it's so critical to understand this: for the Gnostics, subversion is not merely a crack in the perfect picture; the crack is an inseparable part of the picture.”

  “We have some information and we would like to hear your opinion on it,” said Diotima.

  “Please.” Sin listened attentively.

  Diotima recognized that the man was endowed with the same rare wisdom reserved for those who are already prepared to leave this life yet remain living. She supposed that his experiences enabled him to discern between important and unimportant. She told him about Terry, one of the select secret agents of the Atheistic intelligence service. Terry was sent as an agent to Earth and had become a supplier of communication equipment to the Gnostics. He sold them communication devices as well as wired and wireless equipment. The equipment was of good q
uality and priced cheaply, and as an additional service, Terry wired some of their systems with eavesdropping devices. Terry reported directly to Dust's military chief of general staff, Bruno, who reported to Diotima.

  Bruno notified her that the Gnostic's module would be ready within three years’ time, and Diotima decided of her own accord to narrow the safety window to a year. Bruno crosschecked the information about the module with additional informers on the Gnostic fringe. Finally, she asked Sin his opinion of the veracity of the information.

  After thinking about it, he answered. “The information sounds very convincing, and yet, the motivation and talent of the Gnostics cannot be exaggerated. Their cunning is not strictly reserved for their overt enemies. As I said, it is possible that this is partial or even erroneous information, a result of internal rivalries. It's possible that the true information is concealed even from the very Gnostics who are the source of your information.”

  “What are the rivalries about,” inquired Enosh, “if not for the success of the common goal?”

  “I don't think you're that innocent, Enosh,” Sin laughed openly.

  Enosh smiled.

  “Actually, the competition is over the identity of the Redeemer,” explained Sin. “According to Gnostic tradition, the Redeemer is the leader who is destined to liberate the Gnostics, and so too the entire world. He is the one who will extract the light from the shell, the sanctity of the holy spark from the impure material existence. That's where the myth ends. Anyone who does not believe, or who has ceased believing in the Gnosis as I have, understands the significance of the Redeemer as a political title. The Redeemer will garner enough power to become the leader, thanks to his position in the army hierarchy, his seniority, his lineage and his ability to craft subterfuge and endure in the face of subversion.”

  “So the Redeemer is a sort of spiritual and political leader?” offered Enosh.