After thinking briefly for a few moments, Truth stated, “The Gnostic forces are here. The module is here. We will all soon be released from our material prisons.”
The Gnostic forces cheered. “In the darkness of the material world, we shall know the light!”
“But not before we bring justice to the traitor!” continued Truth.
Sophia saw her life measured out before her in ever-fleeting minutes and seconds.
'Had he not loved me, he would have killed me straight away,' thought Gabriel.
“With all due respect, Commander, we have gotten this far. Our mission takes precedence,” whispered Flash.
“No!” said Truth. “We must not wait. We must remove the traitor from our midst and stand pure and innocent in the pleroma among the aeons and the Master of Light.”
“So kill him now and we'll condemn him later,” hissed Flash, burning with vengeance. “We can condemn him without him being there, as our predecessors have done, and classify him as a condemned one whose name has been erased.”
“Shut up, Flash, you are trying my patience,” said Truth on his personal communication device. The official order he gave contradicted his feelings. This was one of the most difficult decisions of his life.
“Smoke will appear for the condemnation ritual and will have his say so that all of the Gnostic forces can hear him and know that he is a heretic,” sad Truth in the characteristic coolness of a believer. “All Gnostic warriors: cheer loudly for our victory today!” Truth cried out passionately.
Loud cheers and the song of victory boomed from the audio-visual system:
With the Redeemer's Tablet
With the Tablet of Uruk
Our purpose is to free
The kingdom of Earth
To the empire of the heavens.
The voices died down as Truth continued. “Listen, all Gnostic heroes! Smoke was one of us. One of our most dedicated and best men. But not anymore. He was drawn away and converted by our bitter enemies, Orpheus' cursed Pythagoreans. We all believed in him but his faith was weak and the witch ensnared him in her web. He betrays the Master of Light and he betrays us, his own brothers. I ask you, what is his sentence?”
The voices of the pilots rose from the audio-visual system like a roaring wave: “Condemnation! Death to the traitor!”
Enosh and Sophia felt their insides turning over, but Gabriel remained calm.
“The condemnation ritual has commenced. Smoke, I entrusted our sacred mission to you. Our most talented evasive pilot succeeded in slipping away from us as well. You were but a small step away from standing with us in the heavenly pleroma. Alas, you were brought down by the charms of the female, the Pythagorean woman.”
Sophia felt Truth's hatred and the raging wrath of the Gnostic soldiers and was shaken.
“We do not strive toward destruction, rather toward liberation,” continued Truth, “and we must therefore first free ourselves from this illness, from you. According to the Gnostic tradition, you have the right to make yourself heard before we remove the material encasing of your soul.” His upper lip trembled. The tattooed spots on his face stood out against his skin, which had become pale.
Gabriel was calm. Even though he knew that it was likely that his end was near, he felt alive with a vitality that he had not felt in years. He was prepared to die for the chance that he may sustain life within Truth and his Gnostic brothers. This readiness put him at peace. He knew that the only chance he had for his message to really penetrate their hearts was to express himself in a manner that was utterly free and devoid of any fear, any falsehood or any obligation to another purpose.
“I am not Smoke. My name is Gabriel!”
“Death to Smoke!” someone cried out on the audio-visual system.
“Death to Smoke!” echoed the others.
“Silence!” said truth. The voices quieted slightly.
“My name is Gabriel. That was the name that was given to me by my mother and father. That is my birth name. I heard a message from the Master of Light!” Gabriel proceeded quietly, with surprising strength. “It was a silent message in which I could clearly hear my own voice.” He breathed deeply and continued. “I understood that knowledge does not come from a position of authority. I love you with all of my heart, Truth, but even your authority is not the source of myself awareness. This is the kind of knowledge that no one else outside myself can verify.”
Silence fell over the listeners; they all listened to his words with interest. Gabriel continued to speak. “I entreat those true Gnostics among you, those who are willing to look inward and hear their own voices without the support of authority. Throughout our lives, each one of us struggles with escaping from the darkest depths of our souls. We are Gnostic warriors. I cast no doubt on our determination and our vigor. Have you ever wondered, though, what portion of that strength is used to ignore our pain and longing? We are humans before we are Gnostics. Examine your souls and you will see that this is our nature as human beings.”
The noise rose again. Gabriel took it as a sign of encouragement.
“Death to the traitor!” interjected Flash on the audio-visual system. “Don't let him utter even one more deceitful word!”
“Silence!” commanded Truth, and his pain gushed forth from the small crack that had begun to break down his walls. “Let the rebel talk. Obey the law.”
“We all feel the pain. We all feel it separately, alone. We feel fear but do not share our fear with others. We give respect to our brothers and leaders, but not just respect. Dare to see the other emotions that exist inside your souls.”
“Our obligation to the sacred Gnosis and the Master of Light is what motivates us—not our feelings,” said Truth, but the rock-solid confidence that had colored his voice earlier was now gone.
“I do not believe in a divine power that commands us to fulfill his desires,” continued Gabriel in a firm tone. “I do not believe in the centrality of the Gnostic concept of nothingness that hides your desires from you. The truth is greater and more powerful than all of us. I am telling you the truth, the truth that I personally experienced with my own flesh. The mission of destruction is a mistake!”
Smoke's words seeped like acid through Truth's iron armor. The cracks that had begun to appear in his consciousness undermined his confidence. Something inside of him wanted to go and lock himself alone with his sharp point and comfort himself in the familiarity of physical pain, his favorite substitute for emotion. In the meantime, the audio-visual system roared and rumbled with impassioned voices that would not let Gabriel finish his speech. From the din he could distinguish a voice here and there, calling out clearly, “Death to the traitor! Silence the scum!” “Why doesn't Truth stop him? Kill him at once!” Many other thoughts were not given expression.
“Shh...” Truth uttered calmly and patiently until the clamor subsided. “Say your last words before you are condemned!” He felt that he was losing his grip on the justification of his claims and wanted to finish the ritual as soon as possible.
Gabriel turned directly to Truth. “What is your personal truth, Truth?”
“I am not the one on trial here.”
“Your personal Truth is your love for all of us. Your love for me.”
With increasingly suffocating unease rising in his chest, Truth knocked Gabriel to the floor with a single blow to his face. The Gnostics were in shock: their leader had lost control and had unmistakably broken the rules of the ceremony.
Flash realized that this was his chance. With his outburst of unbridled violence, that obvious violation of the sacred rules of the condemnation ritual, Truth had declared his surrender. He ceased to be the revered dispassionate leader that he once was. Flash took advantage of the uproar in the simulator, left his post in the control ship and entered Samos on his solo craft. On the secret communication channel of the Brotherhood of Purity, he announced, “The leader has broken. Prepare for action.”
Gabriel stood to his feet in order to com
plete his mission, to tell them what he needed to say and to reach them before his words were swallowed in the commotion. “You too, my audience: you too have acted out of love. Are you afraid to admit it? Truth, I know that you do not want to peel off my skin; for what is the source of your love if not the body, the material that you are commanded to destroy?”
Enosh lifted his eyes and looked directly into Gabriels'. Gabriel raised his voice and could barely speak over the din. “My Gnostic brothers, you are not so different from the rest of humanity, those who openly reveal their love.”
With his veins popping out of his temples, but with a soft voice, Truth looked painfully at Smoke. “Enough!” said Truth and the voices in the audio-visual system quieted.
“You put me on trial, but I am not the one to blame. I am not the one who stole your love from you. I am not the source of your pain.” Truth's agonizing gaze did not silence him. “Nor am I the source of your pain, Truth, the pain that you were never able to hide and that is now more apparent than ever. What is the source of your pain, Truth? What is the secret source of your hidden pain?”
Truth could hardly breathe. He was beside himself and was not used to losing control. Despite his desire to strangle Smoke, his hand was petrified. 'Shut your mouth,' he wanted to scream, but his mouth failed him. He wanted to disappear. He wanted Flash to intervene and rescue him.
Flash was in his aircraft, preparing to land on Samos' docking platforms, and he had already set the Brotherhood's contingency plan into action. He verified with Thunder, who was outside the simulator, that the module was indeed in his possession. Abyss and Spark confirmed that the Brotherhood's badger units were under their command and waiting ready at the main junctions of the station. Thunder reported that Shadow and his squadron of badgers had taken control of the Processor. He assumed that Shadow would not abandon Truth.
The spheres of light continued to play the beautiful harmonies. The pain pounded in Truth's head as it continued to dissolve everything that had been so clear and simple just moments before. Truth grasped onto the sacred verses in an attempt to appeal to his soldiers' emotions.
So it is written in the Ginza Rabba:
The traitor will speak evil words,
With sorcery and charms,
With mendacity of wisdom,
He speaks with the fraudulent light.
I, however,
Stand in the gates of darkness,
In the black water channels of the earth.
“The Atheists and the Pythagoreans have abandoned the Earth and the Gnosis—”
“You!” Gabriel interjected. “Not the Gnosis, rather they have abandoned you. As one being judged, I plead for mercy. If this be my last grace, I shall not ask it from the father of the ship, nor from Truth the Gnostic, but rather from you, whose birth name I do not know. Tell me, who abandoned you?”
Truth froze and returned to his verses:
Suffering and pleasure is like a taught string,
From the lofty nobles to the men of knowledge,
From the blue of the sky to the center of the Earth,
But this was all in the land between the rivers,
In Mandaean Mesopotamia.
All this existed once but is now gone.
The warriors are buried in darkness and I in the gates of fire.
Far from the life giving waters,
I stood opposite the dark abyss,
Watching the warriors burning, shining.
“Don't say anything else about the Gnostics or the Mandaeans. I want to know about you, the man who is the closest to me but whose name I do not know,” pleaded Gabriel
“I am the Mandaean!” he roared with rage that boomed throughout the audio-visual system. “The shining, burning warriors are my family. I was left by the abyss and darkness, under the mound of corpses belonging to my family and my tribe.” Truth's eyes blazed.
Flash appeared at the entrance to the simulator.
Truth was surprised and shouted angrily, “I told you to stay in the ship!”
“Had you been the redeemer, you would not have let them drag you down into demeaning your position and causing you personal pain and revenge. You are not the redeemer. Step aside! Listen to me, my brothers throughout the audio-visual system. I am a Gnostic, and as such, my loyalty lies with the Gnostic Brotherhood of Purity. Truth, you are not the redeemer. You have committed not just one sin: you have supported the fallen, and now everyone knows it; you gave the Pythagorean and the traitor a forum to speak and weaken our resolve. But you will not succeed. We, the loyal members of the Brotherhood of Purity, will proceed on our sacred mission without you.”
“Seize him!” ordered Truth.
Some of the soldiers grabbed Flash, who did not resist.
Truth's mind raced with images of corpses piled on top of each other. They merged with images of other bodies, of the carnage and the destruction that he witnessed throughout his years as a warrior and Gnostic leader. The Gnostic hymns were meaningless compared to the images etched into his memory. The faith that had allowed him to stave off the pain had begun to collapse. Even his prodigies, Smoke and Flash, had turned their backs on him. Once again, he was alone, like he had been during the final days of Mandaean Mesopotamia. With tremendous effort, he remained upright and erect in order to project a sense of leadership to his soldiers. But even they could discern the metamorphosis taking place within him. He wondered how he had lost control, how the emotions, thoughts and images had manifested themselves precisely at that moment. The pain burst into his consciousness and he could not keep it at bay. “I lost all my family, the entire Mandaean nation. I am the last scion of the Mandaeans,” he murmured with a broken voice.
“Holy men, brave Gnostic warriors: I would like to speak to you.” A woman's voice was heard as Diotima's image appeared on all of the screens of the audio-visual system. “I am Diotima, Atheist defense minister. I am located in the command ship of the Atheist fleet, which will surround you shortly. My question to you, Truth the redeemer, is from 'One Thousand and twelve Questions' of the first Mandaean scholar,
Zazai d'Gawazta son of Hawa of 272 AD.
All of the Gnostic soldiers, not just Truth, were dumbstruck. Those who were riveted to their screens on their aircraft as well as those who were stationed in their positions throughout Samos did not understand what was happening. They were prepared to fight and to die, but they were not prepared for the upheavals that were occurring around them. Sophia's passing of the Blood Challenge, Smoke's betrayal, Flash's subterfuge, their leader's weakness, and now, the intrusion of an Atheist woman who was an expert in their sacred texts. These rapid developments were unfathomable—how could they digest them? Some of them fortified themselves by sticking to the official Gnostic position of devotion to the goal no matter what happened. But there were also those who were influenced by what they had heard.
Smoke's words had confused them. The truths that served as anchors for them had been undermined. They felt as if they were floating through space in unfamiliar territory. Some of them clambered for something to grab onto deep within themselves.
“The Gnostic forces will destroy you, the Atheists, in the blink of an eye if you do not back off. This is not your war,” intervened Flash.
Diotima ignored Flash. “Tell me, Truth, what is the place of peace where there is no rebellion?”
Truth's eyes lit up upon hearing the traditional quotes from his childhood, the Mandaean writings. “The place of peace is orphanhood, for in it there is no one there to rebel against,” he replied.
“And what is the big strong heart, who supports the small as the large?”
“The strong heart is the devoted one, for there is no large or small,” he replied.
“And what is the paved path from which those in the residence of light look out?”
“Sadness. Sadness paves the road for happiness to reach the salvation of the purification of the light.”
“If so, then remember also the Mandaean di
ctate: Life belongs to God alone, and no man has the right to take it!” replied Diotima. “Truth the Mandaean, you are a Gnostic, a knowledgeable man and the only one here who was born into the Gnosis. The Mandaeans were not hungry for destruction like the other Gnostics. In the Mandaean song, there are pure waters and an abundance of life. For the pain, and despite the pain, there is life. And that life is sacred.” The audience in the audio-visual system listened in silence. Truth had no power to resist.
Listen, Truth the redeemer! Listen to the words of the Ginza Rabba, the cradle of your culture:
A seed was released and fell
Into the unknown of the womb
Which sanctified it.
Soul, body and life
Rejoice in mystery.
The soul revels
And sings the song:
'In the name of mighty life'.
“Do you recognize this?” Diotima held a reddish-brown clay tablet and presented it to the audio-visual screen. It was the size of the palm of a hand and was engraved with cuneiform symbols. At its top was a hole threaded with a thick strip of linen. The tablet was rough with the wear of five thousand years.
“This is the Charm of Uruk, the Redeemer's Tablet,” said Truth with wonder.
The audio-visual system fell silent. All they could hear was the sound of the aircraft engines from a distance. After some hesitant murmurs, the voices increased and then cheers and cries could be heard. But when Diotima began to speak again, the voices subsided.
“The Charm of Uruk has protected you, the Mandaeans. It connected you to your Mesopotamian roots, but it is also part of the collective heritage of humanity. Therefore, much effort was made to salvage it when you were in danger of being decimated. I received it for safekeeping, but it does not belong to me.” She looked into Truth's eyes. “It is yours,” she stated. “It is for you to extricate its message for humanity.”
Mesopotamia - The Redeemer Page 31