“I couldn't have said it better,” he smiled with satisfaction.
She pushed the memory aside and decided to take a gamble, to probe further. “Did you want to jump from the roof? Did you want to die?”
Smoke recoiled from the question. He wanted to push away her invasive questions but he answered nonetheless. “I stood on the roof of the tallest building in our compound. I looked out at the desert for a long time until Truth came up and grabbed hold of me.”
“The desert?”
Smoke sank further into his chair and closed his eyes. He didn't want to speak anymore. He was tired of making it look like he was cooperating. After sitting silent for a while he began to speak in a monotonous voice, almost indifferent.
“I lived in the desert. With my family. My father was killed when the cities were destroyed. My mother fled with me and my little sister. We reached a city on the edge of the desert, but so did the bombers. We ran away to dugout shelters, but the bombing collapsed the ceiling of the tunnel where we were hiding. When I woke up, there was only smoke, dust and an unbearable smell. The quiet after the shelling was worse than the bombing's loud noises. The mouth of the cave was blocked by big rocks. I tried to clear a path back to them. I wanted to go back into the hole and die with them.” He paused and looked down at his hands. And then he panicked. 'How could I forget them? My father, my mother, my sister, my family.' His heart was breaking but it felt good to talk. Though he hated this pleasure and was afraid of it, it drew him in. 'If only Truth would order me back to the mother ship,' he thought. 'I have to follow instructions and make it look like I'm cooperating,' he reminded himself. He savored this small opportunity to express himself. Talking brought him relief—a strange and pleasant relief.
He continued in a thoughtful voice. “There wasn't a single living soul around me. After a while, I could no longer count the days. For months, perhaps a year, I was by myself. My mother had prepared before our escape from the city so I did not lack in food or water that we had taken in survival packs.” The soft cadence of his voice was lost, he straightened himself in his chair, stretched his back and returned to the rigid Gnostic tone. “Truth claims that I left the bombing without a scratch and managed to survive for so long because the Master of Light ordained that I would be the redeemer. He was with me. Then, I did not know him by name.” He was quiet for a moment. Sophia held her tongue and waited.
“Only afterward, in the Gnostic compound,” he continued, “did I realize it was the Master of Light. A few days after the bombing, he approached me. He came from the desert. I didn't recognize him until he came closer. His color was that of the desert. I could only discern him once he had opened his eyes. His pupils were pure white, like small, lit flames. I wasn't afraid of him. I knew that you were supposed to be afraid of snakes that you can die from a snakebite, but I was not afraid to die.”
Smoke was silent for a moment and Sophia realized that he was reliving his encounter with the snake in his mind. 'It would be interesting to see what would happen to him if the simulator were still on. I wonder what we would see.' She resisted the temptation and did not turn on the simulator. Smoke seemed to be sinking deeper and deeper.
“He didn't bite me. He spoke to me. He said he had come from the collapsed tunnels. He saw where my family went after they were buried beneath the rubble. They went to nothingness. I asked him if he could take me also. I wanted to be with them.”
The vivid memories made him forget the shame of revealing himself in front of this strange woman.
“You wanted the Master of Light to take you to your mother,” Sophia whispered.
The need to express himself, which had been blocked for so many years, overcame him. “The Master of Light said that I had another task before I could join them. Truth said it was the Master of Light. He also told me what the job was. Devotion, nullification, nothingness, devotion, nullification, nothingness, devotion, nullification...” Smoke sat exhausted and silent in his chair.
Sophia wanted to run immediately to Enosh and tell him about the change that happened right in front of her. It was difficult to resist the impulse. She saw how Smoke's desire to be with his mother was his own and not that of the Master of Light. She saw how Smoke had avoided mourning through devotional rituals to Truth and the Master of Light. If Smoke were to abandon his mission, he may potentially return to the point of suicide that he had experienced on the edge of the abyss. Her heart ached with grief.
Her hand absently stroked his head. He glared at her but did not move her away. She composed herself and moved her hand away. 'At his own pace,' she told herself.
The din of small talk died down once Truth entered the dining hall. He had been working on alternate plans for invasion so he arrived only towards the end of the meal. . He took a food tray for himself from the distribution device and selected a serving of carbohydrates and two servings of protein. Only Flash remained at the officers' table. He waited for an opportunity to speak to the commander.
“Commander,” Flash greeted him.
“Flash,” Truth responded and sat down. Truth was thinking of Smoke's situation as he started eating the gray mush.
“If I may, sir...”
“Yes, Flash,” he was stirred from his thoughts.
“The soldiers are tense,” he began hesitantly.
“They should be,” he replied with indifference.
“We've been planning for years, the mission is simple. Why are we waiting?” Flash asked cautiously.
Truth was silent and his face was solemn. Flash was afraid he had gone too far.
“We've planned for years and it is thereby imperative that we gather as much information as we can,” he said. “We cannot make any mistakes and Smoke's presence in the station can only benefit us. We've waited until now,” Truth looked into his eyes and added, “Patience, Flash.”
“I don't trust these sly Pythagoreans. They talk of peace. Commander, can Smoke withstand the Pythagorean witch?”
“Silence!” Truth said, throwing a dark look at Flash. “I chose Smoke!” he snapped at him. “Do you doubt my judgment?” The words cut through the air.
“Sir, forgive me for my rudeness. I only have the success of the mission in mind,” he said, bowing his head.
“Smoke to Truth,” Truth's communication device notified him.
“Hold on,” Truth said to Smoke. “For the sake of the mission, finish eating and get back to work,” he said to Flash.
“Yes, Sir.” Flash stood up, humiliated and angry.
“Truth here,” he was relieved to hear Smoke's voice and listened carefully, trying to discern any changes, but his terse report bore no remnant of the agitation of their previous conversation.
“Status report: the Pythagoreans do not suspect a thing. She is studying me. She is interested in the Gnostic mentality and thought process. She does this through a simulation. I believe I have succeeded in presenting myself as a collaborator and I have convinced her to trust me.”
“Go on!” Truth said.
“There are several platforms on the surface sphere and everyone has access to the station.”
“Continue.”
“Scouts man the platforms. As far as I understand, as unbelievable as it may seem, our theory that Pythagoreans would offer no resistance is indeed correct.”
“Continue.”
“Details of access routes, Sir.”
Smoke described in detail the routes leading from the platforms inward to the station, the sphere of command, the simulator, the living quarters, and the core of the processor. Truth drew a map as Smoke delivered his report, asked questions for clarification, received detailed responses and once again felt confident about his subordinate.
“And what about what was bothering you in your last report?”
“There is no reason to worry. Everything is under control. I am... sorry for my outburst. I did not behave properly.”
“I believe in you, Smoke.”
“With all humility, Sir.”
/> “Pythagoras must fall, and not a sound will be heard when it does. You must bring it down, Smoke.”
Anxiety mixed with pleasure fluttered in Smoke's chest. He once again felt a wave of love for Truth. His belly seemed to stick to his back when he thought about the weight of his responsibility. “I am your servant.”
It seemed to Truth that he detected a small crack in his voice. 'I will not let Flash's rivalry affect my judgment. I must encourage Smoke.'
“Your mission is still not complete. Master of Light be with you! Over and out.”
Sophia sat in her chair and watched as he wandered across the sample room; he stopped at one item or another, his movements conveying curiosity. She noticed a tremor in his fingers as he held a glass of water, a tremor she had not noticed earlier. He looked different after having rested—young and more upright. His eyes were clearer.
“How did you know that the snake was the Master of Light?” she asked.
Smoke turned away from the Saifun fish in the floating ball of water. “In the Gnostic orphanage, we learned that the snake is one of the manifestations of the Master of Light. In the Jews' Torah, the serpent in Paradise was the incarnation of the Master of Light.”
“The Master of light is not the equivalent of God?”
“No. The God of the Jews, Muslims and Christians is Yaldabaoth, an inferior God, Creator of the physical world. The snake is the Master of Light, who imparts knowledge. Adam and Eve served the inferior God out of ignorance, and therefore they were condemned to exile. They managed only a small taste of Gnosticism, from the knowledge the Master of Light had offered them, and then they were banished from Paradise. The Master of Light offered them knowledge, but they chose to obey the inferior the demiurge Yaldabaoth,” said Smoke with obvious contempt. “Had they not feared the demiurge, they could have stayed in Paradise.”
'Self-nullification is an attempt to return to Paradise, or as Enosh put it, to have the pleasure of being rid of the burden of desire,' Sophia thought. She asked Smoke, “What did the Master of Light offer? What does the Tree of Knowledge bear?”
“You mean to ask what was the thing Adam and Eve were supposed to discover regarding the difference between good and evil?”
“I suppose so.”
“What was it that when revealed, filled them with shame?”
“Nakedness,” she answered.
“How are good and evil related to nudity?”
Sophia looked up at him, waiting for a reply.
“Truth says that they felt shame over nothingness, the nothingness that came with their nakedness. Clothing hides the fact that there is nothing to hide.” He stopped so she could understand what he said. “Do you understand?”
“I think so. Go on.”
“The God Yaldabaoth told them the truth. The truth being that they were empty. But it was said in a critical manner, as if they were meant to be full. They hid behind clothing so they could believe they had something to hide. The truth, as known by the Master of Light, is that there's no need to hide the emptiness. This is the deception of existence, of substance, of Yaldabaoth; truth is nothingness, it is spirit. We do not deny the nothingness, rather the deception of substance. While you, the rest of humanity and the Pythagoreans in particular, equate existence with the good and nothingness with the bad. We know that the good is knowledge about nothingness while the evil is the ignorance of it. Evil is the false belief in existence.”
“How then do you explain that Adam and Eve experienced eternal pleasure in Paradise even before they approached the Tree of Knowledge? Before the deception of existence was revealed to them?” Sophia gently stretched the disagreement between them.
“It was a fool's paradise!” Smoke said angrily. “Fools who knew nothing about what is and what isn't, who tasted neither from the Tree of Knowledge nor from the Tree of Life.”
“Tree of Life?”
“Yes,” Smoke said with a Messianic fervor which reminded her of herself. “Tasting from the Tree of Knowledge heralds the truth of false existence but that knowledge offers no release. Tasting from the Tree of Life gives not only knowledge, but a release from existence. It grants immortality.”
“I do not understand,” she recognized the desire for self-nullification but pretended not to.
“Physical life is limited by how long the body can live. After the body dies, there is eternal life. Tasting from the Tree of Life destroys the body which has trapped the spirit.”
He murmured the last words carefully. Sophia assumed that he regretted revealing too much about his faith and too eagerly, that he was concerned he might reveal his mission. But now she understood. According to Gnostic belief, tasting from the Tree of Life offers the death they yearn for. She had relieved his burden of concealment and used the opportunity to steer the conversation in the direction she wanted.
“If so, then your family members who were killed in the bombing are actually living eternally?”
“Of course,” he was obviously glad she understood what he was saying.
'This is a perfect religion, there are no loopholes,' she thought, impressed. 'Even more perfect than the Pythagorean religion. There is no death, only immortality. How can you possibly undermine such a belief?' Suddenly, she doubted her ability to influence Smoke. Could she propose a counter-opinion to him? How could she sell him on the concept of actuality?
“What do you believe?”
'Finally, he is taking interest in me,' she thought. 'And maybe he's just asking for the sake of his mission, but nevertheless, it's still interest.' “I believe in an organization, in order, in a pattern and a formula. I agree with you that at the basic level there is nothing. However, grains of nothing, when arranged in a certain way, create existence. I believe that God exists and he is the order of the nothingness. This was Orpheus' discovery.”
“This God, this demiurge Yaldabaoth, do you believe in him? In the wayward son?” Smoke's voice was impassioned once again. “You... create, generate! You... are a woman!” He hurled the final words at her in anger.
Sophia was not discouraged by his anger. His interest in her worldview encouraged her. “As a creator, I am part of the divine order,” she said calmly.
“What is this belonging you speak of? What order? Octavia, your homeland, is it so organized and planned out like a space station? A Paradise of fools, who deny the instability of this order! How can you see the light when your order blocks the crack from which the light streams forth?”
'Enosh would agree with him on this point,' Sophia thought. She flinched at his reaction but dared to provoke his aggression even further. “Beauty is found in order! Immortality is also found in order, not only in death!”
Her provocation worked, perhaps more than she had anticipated. He hissed angrily, in an aggressive tone, “When the bombers chased us to the edge of the desert, there was no order. They did not bomb at a set time or place. They did not kill the old before the young in any particular order. The limbs that were torn apart did not arrange themselves in a perfect circle around the crater.”
'Just like the Gnostic conquests,' she thought, but Sophia passed on the opportunity to contradict him with it. 'It is still early.' Now she understood Enosh's words, how the tragedies that befell him influenced his worldview.
“But the Master of Light manifested himself in a certain order, right? The snake with diamonds on its skin—geometric patterns—is that not order? The coils he withdraws into, is that not order?” She stopped, preventing herself from saying all the things she was thinking.
'Isn't a mission directed towards a specific goal a form of order? The hierarchical relationship between Truth and the Master of Light, isn't that order? And why would they call their God “Master” if not to indicate some order?' Sophia realized that her ability to direct the conversation according to her purposes was limited by the fact that she was a Pythagorean and her subsequent reliance on the principle of order. Enosh was enlisted to help her see beyond that limit. She reminded h
erself once more that it was up to her to dismiss her preconceived notions of existence so that she could relate to this idea of nothingness. She thought with compassion about the chaos that had reigned in his life before. Maybe she needed to stop instigating conflict with him so that he could feel a sense of belonging, to allow for the belonging of his feelings? She recalled another conversation she had had with Enosh.
“It is imperative that a person has free will and not entrust it in someone else's hands, but what is the purpose of such desire? What can we know about what people, particularly the Gnostics, want?”
“We can know,” replied Enosh without hesitation, “that there is a basic desire to belong.”
“To belong to what?”
“It depends. Let's speak in your language. Mathematically, the part belongs to the whole. But what is the part and what is the whole? This is already up to the way you interpret belonging.”
“I don't understand.”
“The limb belongs to the body, the word to the sentence, man to society. Take you, the Pythagoreans, for example. You build artificial planets in order to express your belonging to the cosmos. You can say that you are a celestial body which belongs to a group of celestial bodies.”
“And the Gnostics?” she asked.
“The Gnostics are outcasts, they do not belong.”
“And yet, how do they exercise their basic desire to belong?”
“They are the exceptions, the outcasts, belonging to the group of outcasts. Because they feel that humanity has rejected them, they created for themselves a community of outcasts. This is not just a group of people living together. I'm speaking of a theoretical group. A definition. A category. This is a ploy of the Gnostic mentality. Once they become part of a group of outcasts, they cannot be ostracized. If they are excluded, they are further defined as outcasts. You cannot expel them because they refuse to be part of the group in the first place. There is no place to banish them to. They are already in exile and they are trying to distance themselves even further.”
Mesopotamia - The Redeemer Page 25