Mesopotamia - The Redeemer

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by Yehuda Israely


  The mighty Pasha hurled a powerful blow at a nearby badger, breaking his nose. Before the other two badgers knew what was happening, he grabbed the weapon out of one badger's hand and used it to strike the second badger on the head as he planted a vigorous kick in the third badger's stomach. In a flash, he shot each of the four badgers to death at point blank range.

  Thales was amazed by Pasha's speed and deftness and was horrified to see how he had killed the men so calmly. 'I killed a man,' thought Thales as he felt a wave of sickness washing over him.

  “Take their weapons and bring the mosquitoes,” commanded Pasha. “We must hide the four corpses so that they won't know that we are inside. Don't move the Gnostic corpses that they killed.”

  “We'll leave three mosquitoes outside.”

  “As you wish.”

  They crossed the bridge to the processor, dragged the bodies away and picked up the weapons.

  “Sophia,” said Thales on the station's audio-visual device, “immediately open and close the entrance to the processor.”

  She granted his request. The heavy door closed behind them. They sat down and breathed.

  Pasha seemed to have risen from the dead. He hadn't acted with such clarity and certainty for years.

  They heard voices coming from the other side of the door. Flash and his men had set explosives at the door. They did this carefully and precisely so as not to damage the processor.

  “How much time do we have?” asked Thales.

  “A minute, maybe two,” replied Pasha.

  “Sophia, we're inside,” he relayed the message to her.

  “Thales, are you ok?” she asked anxiously.

  “We're fine—I'm here with Pasha in the processor.”

  “Who?”

  “Barman,” he corrected himself, remembering that she did not know his real name. “I see on my display that Gabriel is trying to get to the processor. He and his men are stuck in combat. Contact him via the audio-visual and tell him to follow the mosquito. Open all of the ventilation shafts in the processor sphere.”

  “At once.”

  A gust of wind began to shriek throughout Samos' corridors. Thales programmed the mosquito to navigate the shortest route that would lead Gabriel to the processor. With his back facing the door, he turned toward the console. He began to type the codes into the display. He had broken out in a cold sweat. It was likely that these were the final moments of his life and the lives of all of Samos' residents, he thought. He began to write the command instructing the processor to self-generate. Self-generation was a paradox so impossible that the processor would have no option other than to destroy itself along with the entire station. Pasha stood opposite the door with his weapon ready.

  Minutes before, when Flash had slipped out of the simulator, Gabriel knew that Thunder was going to join him with the module on his way to the processor. He did not hesitate. Once he was joined by the seven loyal badgers that had been with him in the simulator, he explicitly permitted them to shoot and kill any of the dissidents who stood in their way and opened chase after Flash. He hoped he could catch him before he reached the processor. The loyal soldiers were in a tough spot, thought Gabriel. They would have to open fire on their fellow soldiers. All he could do was hope that they would remain loyal at his side.

  Without warning, they were fired upon by a band of Gnostic rebels that had been waiting for them around a bend in the corridor. One of Gabriel's soldiers died on the spot. They returned fire and killed one of the five soldiers opposite them. Flash's followers injured another one of Gabriel's. Despite the serious wound to his leg, the soldier continued to fight. Flash's followers retreated and took cover.

  Gabriel had lost precious time to the skirmish. Finally, one of Gabriel's followers stormed out daringly, killing one and injuring another before being shot to death himself. Two of Flash's followers fled. Gabriel took one of the weapons that had been left at the scene and instructed a nearby soldier to treat the injured.

  Crossfire rained down once more on Gabriel and the remaining three followers. The fire was coming from above, from a vent in the shaft that connected the spheres, as well as from behind, from Flash's badgers that had come from the platform.

  One of Gabriel's men staved off the pursuers from behind. The second did not flinch in the face of almost certain death in order to neutralize the fire from above. Gabriel left with the third soldier and crossed the open area, looking for an alternate route to reach the sphere above them. After about thirty meters, they spied another shaft that led to it. They silently climbed up into the shaft and surprised Flash's soldiers with a barrage of fire from behind. The soldiers fell out through the shaft. Gabriel and the badgers slid out behind them and joined two more soldiers, who covered them. With concentrated firepower, they stormed the forces that had come from the platform. Gabriel was immediately hit on his left shoulder, but the adrenaline sharpened his senses and numbed the pain as he continued to fire. Their enemies took shelter in a protected area. One of Gabriel's soldiers was shot in the head and killed as a second soldier was shot in the stomach. Gabriel had never imagined that he would kill a Gnostic soldier with his own hands. He shook the thought out of his head and returned to his men.

  “You stay here to protect the injured man. Drag him to the simulator,” he commanded the last soldier. He began to run ahead alone, his left arm dangling limply at his side.

  Sophia's voice echoed through the station. “Gabriel, follow the mechanical mosquito in front of you.”

  In a matter of seconds, he changed his course. He saw the mosquito enter a crack in the wall. After thinking for a few moments, he shot through the wall and punched an ugly hole in the gleaming pearlescent wall. He stepped though it and saw the mosquito rise up though one of the vents in the station's ventilation system.

  “Gabriel, hurry! Flash has already reached the entrance to the processor,” Sophia urged. In the command station of the Atheist fleet, Bruno released the third safety and slid his finger forward to press the switch that would activate the ray.

  Although Diotima understood that Truth had been killed, she decided to continue on to Samos anyway and use the Redeemer's Tablet as a way to bolster Gabriel's leadership. A group of badgers who were loyal to Gabriel led the way as she carried the wrapped parcel straight to the processor. Sophia, Enosh and Diotima used the simulator to watch Flash and his men lay out the explosives. The door was designed to withstand the pressure created by the processor, but no one knew for certain how much force it could stand from the outside.

  On her personal audio-visual device, Diotima relayed the events to Bruno. She instructed him to release the ray the moment she informed him that Flash was connecting the module to the processor.

  She felt a sense of grief at the destruction of the gleaming pearly planet, the glorious Pythagorean creation, as well as all of the residents inside it. She also felt sadness at the loss of her own life.

  “In the name of the Master of Light, you will lose your places in the pleroma if you do not open this door immediately,” Flash shouted to his soldiers with frantic fury as they placed the explosives in place.

  Thales typed in the code wildly and cursed every so often as he corrected hasty typing errors, thereby losing precious time.

  Pasha remained standing by the door, holding a heavy energy launcher in each hand and ready to strike.

  “They're going to burst in any moment now. Hurry, Thales!”

  Thales cursed again and continued to frantically punch in the codes.

  “The redemption of light has come!” Flash yelled to his soldiers in an ecstatic frenzy. “Take care not to damage the processor!”

  Gabriel crawled behind the mosquito through the air shafts, holding his weapon in one hand while the other wounded arm dangled at his side. He saw Flash and his soldiers through a small opening below him and hurried toward the processor.

  The blast sent fragments of the doors flying to the sides.

  Gabriel managed to jump do
wn from the air vent above where Pasha was standing just moments before the doors collapsed. When the Gnostics burst into the room, they were met with remarkably effective gunfire from Gabriel and Pasha. “In the name of the Master...” a shocked Flash managed to utter before his body was shot to pieces.

  Thales' finger was frozen above the display in anticipation of activating the final command. The shots stopped and an eerie silence settled over the station. Only the harmonious melody of Samos and the shrieking of the wind could be heard.

  "Done!" said Thales over the audio visual system. "Safety back on." Diotima commanded Bruno.

  The wounded were treated in the clinics while the deceased were wrapped in bags and gathered into the morgue. The surviving rebels were shackled and transferred to be quarantined until their true loyalties could be ascertained. The people of Samos started to function again and began to assess the damage to make repairs. Everyone awaited instructions from their leaders.

  Enosh, Sophia, Thales, Pasha, Gabriel and Diotima shut themselves in the simulation room. Gabriel was withdrawn. Saving the galaxy had not dulled the pain of losing the man who had been to him like a mother and a father. Thales kissed Sophia passionately. He was happy that the danger had subsided but was burdened by one thought: he had killed a man. He clang to this burden as proof that his humanity was still intact.

  Diotima wrapped her arms around Enosh. “You did the impossible,” she whispered in his ear.

  “We did the impossible,” he replied.

  “Are you with us?” Diotima addressed Gabriel.

  Gabriel raised his moist eyes and nodded. They conversed for a long time. Finally, Sophia activated the audio-visual system so that all of the forces in Samos and outside of it could hear and see them. They all waited in suspense for her words.

  For the first time, the Pythagoreans, Atheists and Gnostics all found themselves in a similar position. They tried to digest the events that had just occurred and their implications. Their value systems had been overturned—the principles on which they based their lives and faith had collapsed. Had they followed the correct path? They prayed that their leaders' words would return a semblance of stability to their world.

  “The danger has passed,” Sophia addressed the people on the Audio-visual system. “We have lost dear friends. I am proud of the composure you demonstrated during the invasion, but we have much work ahead of us now. We must reassess the values that led us to isolate ourselves from the rest of humanity. We have closed ourselves in ivory towers and we have ignored the sorrowful Earth for too long. But not anymore.”

  Surprised rumors could be heard. “Yes, my friends. We have yet to discuss and clarify these issues and make many changes. In the meantime, we will suffice in knowing, and letting our Gnostic and Atheist brothers know, that we no longer exclude ourselves. We will no longer hide behind our alienated harmony. We hope to reach a state of peace and cooperation with all of humanity. We will begin and Octavia will follow”

  “We are on the brink of an extraordinary opportunity that was afforded to us by Samos,” continued Diotima. “We all must do everything that is required in order to bridge the gaps created by alienation, estrangement and war, and in its place, achieve peace. Each one of you is giving rise to the new era that we would like to bring to the world. The Human-Gods' Wars almost decimated humanity once; the battle of the Gods of actuality versus the Gods of nothingness nearly destroyed the galaxy just now. Even the death of God does not afford any solution.” Enosh nodded in approval. “Humans need a God and we must work together in formulating an expression of what that God is: a God that people can turn to out of a common understanding, which is its purpose.

  “Only one leader can bring us to this goal. He is not a saint, nor is he exalted. It is precisely because of his humanity that he may serve as a spokesperson for all of us.”

  Diotima raised the clay tablet in her hand and laid the linen cord around his neck. “Gabriel is the only one who can lead the new brotherhood of man that we want to forge,” she continued. “He knows the way. The Gnosis sunk to the depths of human suffering, and only Gabriel the Redeemer dared to rise above it and come back.”

  At the right moment, she succeeded in touching the hidden shared longing for brotherhood. Interestingly, it was the Gnostic portion of the audience that began to cheer with increasing intensity.

  "Humans: Atheists, Pythagoreans and Gnostics, those inside Samos and those outside of it,” addressed Gabriel. “We are in need of a lengthy rehabilitative period. My Gnostic brothers: We must infuse new meaning in the knowledge inherent within us. We must reinterpret our roles in the world, firstly within ourselves and then together with the Pythagoreans and the Atheists. This is not something that will happen instantaneously. I do not delude myself. Generations of Gnostic faith in destruction will not disappear overnight, nor will we mend the rifts between ourselves and the Brotherhood of Purity overnight. But the healing process has begun.”

  He waved the tablet in both hands and turned in all directions as he held it. “This clay tablet, the Redeemer's Tablet, the ancient tablet of Uruk, immortalizes the historic connection between us all. It is with great apprehension and trembling that I accept the role of redeemer: I shall redeem anyone who desires freedom from the shackles of loneliness and alienation; I shall redeem he who longs to belong, like a son returning to his fathers.”

  He paused as his words sunk in to the audience and then called out loudly, “Long live the brotherhood of man!”

  “Long live the brotherhood of man!” their voices echoed back in response.

  ###

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  About the authors

  Yehuda Israely is a Clinical Psychologist and Psychoanalyst, Practicing and teaching in Israel. Previous non-fiction book: "The Philosophy and Psychoanalysis of Jacques Lacan" was published in Hebrew by IDF publishing, following a radio program. His third book "Craft of the treatment – a Lacanian Orientation" will come out in September 2012. Dor Raveh who is Yehuda Israely's step son, is Intelligence and Risk Management Director at a private international security firm.

  Connect with Yehuda Israely and Dor Raveh

  mailto:[email protected]

  Smashwords author page:

  https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/yehudaisraely

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/mesosf

  Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Mesopotamia/109059085948751

  LinkedIn: http://www.linkedin.com/pub/yehuda-israely/26/a2/929/

  Other Works by the authors

  Mesopotamia - the Healer, the Slave and the Prince

  The healer and his apprentice slave live in an old and sweet Shechrezada-like legend. Their lives hang by a thread as they struggle to exorcise a demon out of the possessed Sumerian prince's body. How can the two shamans of 3000 BC, influence the fate of the prince, the deamon, and themselves

  Sample chapters from:

  Mesopotamia - the Healer, the Slave and the Prince

  by Yehuda Israely and Dor Raveh

  Translated from Hebrew by Sodhamilim

  Copyright 2012 Yehuda Israely and Dor Raveh

  Smashwords Edition

  Link to author page at Smashwords

  https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/yehudaisraely

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  PROLOGUE

  Tonight, the lots shall be cast: freedom, slavery or death.

  After the final verses of the harvest song had been sounded, Rukha straightened his back and stretched his bones, which made popping noises in response. Behind
him trailed a wake of barley stalks, swollen by the water of the Euphrates. He was proud of himself. After years of dependence on the surreptitious crutch of his muscular friend, in recent months, Rukha had at last succeeded in meeting his harvest quota by himself.

  The taskmaster started to hum the harvest song again from the beginning. Rukha shifted all the pent-up tension from his soul to the arm grasping the sickle and continued on with his labor.

  It was likely that today, of all days, Rukha's friend would require his help for the first time to meet his harvest quota. Normally, his friend could harvest a full donkey's load more than he could, but not today. Three years his senior, he was nearly a head taller, with broad shoulders and a muscular chest. These features inflated his price as a slave. In contrast, the gaunt Rukha bowed under the weight of his large head. His ability to survive as a slave was astonishing in light of his frailty.

  The harvest labor was backbreaking, though it was an honorable pursuit considering that waged workers were also employed in the task. The waged workers were paid silver and copper according to the weight of the barley they harvested. The slaves only received an allowance of barley and liquor, but they were also allowed the sheep's wool that had been caught in the thorns and thistles. Rukha was grateful to the patron God of his fathers. The majority of prisoners of war were tortured to death in order to sow fear into the hearts of enemies and to force them into submission without resistance. Unlike his older friend, who was born free and later captured as a slave, Rukha, who was born into slavery, was content with his lot in life. In comparison to the victims of war, or to those slaves who became injured, he felt as if fate had smiled upon him. He did not dare compare himself to the free men.

 

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