The Days of Peleg

by Jon Saboe

  Peleg managed to get all of his Reels on the board, and even sent one of Serug’s Cones to the Abyss, but in the end, Serug got his final Cone on the sixteenth square—Heaven’s Gate—and the game was over.

  “YES!” shouted Serug as he jumped up from the table. He waved to a caretaker. “We’re ready to pay over here!”

  Grinning he turned to Peleg. “Good Game!”

  Peleg smiled and nodded. “Congratulations.” He handed the caretaker the required Kaspum.

  After finishing their drinks, they left the establishment and Serug turned to Peleg.

  “Actually, there is someone I was wanting you to meet. You might be able to better understand what I was talking about earlier.”

  Before Peleg could transform his scowl into words, Serug continued.

  “You could bring your great skeptical mind and expose the errors. It’s all for the sake of Knowledge, right?” he added hopefully.

  “He’s not one of those Cosmic Plurality people, is he? I don’t want to get in trouble.”

  “Oh, you won’t get into trouble. Besides, he’s a she. And she’s a Mentor and only lives a few blocks away. If you’ve got a few minutes.”

  Peleg thought for a moment. He was not interested in any pseudoscience, or in someone from the Citadel discovering he was talking with people like that. However, his friend seemed to need some real guidance and protection right now.

  “All right.” He acquiesced. “Where does she live?”

  Chapter 4

  Explanation

  “The parameters of both zodiacal zones are fixed, and all synodic arcs are determined by them. But who determined the parameters?”

  The room was circular with a domed ceiling made of cast stone. Carved engravings of the Zodiac could be seen in the stone, and the deep blue light from an Iku-fish oil lamp suspended from the center of the room deepened their sharp shadows.

  The area was large enough to seat about thirty students. At the front there was a small raised speaking platform just big enough for a desk and a person to stand next to it. On the desk were scrolls, books, writing instruments, and calculation devices. Mounted to the wall behind the desk were more astronomical charts, a small panorama displaying the phases of Suen, and a banner across the top with the creed of the astronomer:

  When it is clear, observe—When it is cloudy, compute!

  Mentor Inanna sighed. Her students should be arriving shortly. They would come in one at a time separated by a few minutes each to avoid suspicions. Some of her students were initiates of the Citadel, and it wouldn’t do to have any of their covert informants snooping around.

  A thick tapestry rustled, and Felpag entered the room. He was a very young man in his early thirties, and sported an asymmetrical beard with tightly braided sideburns popular among his age group. Already he had demonstrated special talents in pre-Calamity anthropology.

  Two more students arrived at the same time. I wish they wouldn’t do that—we elicit enough scrutiny as it is. Teaching and studying history was very much discouraged by the Citadel.

  She looked back to her calculations. The next heliacal rising of Nibiru should be later this evening. The synodic arc advances 36 degrees since we’re in zone 2. This places it 24 degrees into SipaZi-Anna, equidistant between d’Lulal and d’Latarak. She suddenly chilled with anticipation at the prospect of spotting this elusive wanderer. The next few weeks would tell.

  Several more students had now seated themselves, and a quiet murmur filled the room. Inanna glanced up and realized it was time to begin.

  The room was nearly full, and, as always, she was overwhelmed at the incredible variety and creativity of Lifeforce. Seated before her was every imaginable skin shade, hair color, and numerous other features which demonstrated that, like stars, no two people were alike. She felt a sudden pang of sadness at the topic of tonight’s lecture.

  As she stood, the quiet talk subsided, and twenty-four pairs of eyes looked up at her. She had a quick chill as she realized that she didn’t recognize one of the students, but he seemed to be with Serug, a student who had been coming to her lectures for several weeks, and she forced a smile.

  “Welcome again, class. Tonight’s thoughts will be brief, as I intend to spend a great deal of time in my observatory this evening. But they are of crucial importance, and the future of humanity’s viability may be in question.”

  A disquieting stir could be heard throughout the room.

  She continued.

  “There are those who see no need for the study of history, because, well, quite frankly, they don’t believe there is one. They have purged thoughts of ancestors and origins from their minds, and focus solely on the present and their grandiose schemes for the future.

  “We have already discussed the Race of Semyaz, an offshoot of humanity which provided our ancestors with great longevity and health. Our studies have demonstrated that it was not uncommon for people to live over nine hundred years, and in some cases reach heights of over three meters.

  “We have also discussed the incredible knowledge and technology which existed before the Great Calamity. The best of our science, math, and astronomy was given to us from them. Although every physical aspect of their civilization was eradicated from the face of the planet, information and knowledge from that time survived. We stand on the shoulders of giants. Simply knowing that mathematics, engineering, and architecture were possible, gave our new civilization an enormous head start.”

  She drew a deep breath.

  “And here I come to the dire portion of tonight’s talk. I’m sure you have heard of the issues which threaten Kemet, our neighbor to the Southwest. And, I’m sure that none of you expect to live to be nine-hundred.”

  She finished this last sentence with a smile that displayed a mixture of sarcasm and pity. An uncomfortable chuckle ran through the students.

  She spoke simply and rhythmically, as if addressing children.

  “The Semyaz race no longer is with us. Our research has forced us to the conclusion that they are simply nowhere to be found. However, we can still see a few vestiges of their hereditary contributions.” Somehow she managed to indicate her proud, ivory-white, Mentor forehead without moving an eyebrow. “But we must concede the possibility that humanity may be forced to survive without their assistance.

  “I believe the threat to Kemet is just the beginning. Humanity is degrading. Already fewer and fewer Mentors are being born. People are entering old age before they are even two hundred. In fact, I would suggest that the average life span over the next few centuries could fall to one hundred and twenty, unless something miraculous diverts this regression.”

  There was a disquieting silence as Innana paused to allow the ramifications to sink in.

  “There is one small glimmer of hope.” Inanna felt like she was about to toss out a life preserver to someone who was too far away to reach it. But, she had to believe.

  “You recall that I said the Race of Semyaz are nowhere to be found. There are those of us who do believe, however, that they survived, somehow. Some feel they are in hiding. Others believe they ascended to a higher spiritual plane of existence. In fact, among those who believe this, there are those who feel that the Semyaz instigated the Great Awakening and guided our newfound abilities and that they are the Watchers who will come and help us when our need is great enough.” Her voice lowered. “But, that may be a little too metaphysical for some of us.”

  She smiled reassuringly.

  “What I believe is this: The Semyaz race escaped the Great Calamity because they escaped the planet itself. We have heard tales of flying machine and other marvels prior to the Great Calamity. Most are dismissed as legend, but I believe that within their own community, they had the means. I believe they flew between the worlds on the ether and found a haven of refuge where they managed to survive. There is some speculation as to where they could go, but I think the answer is quite obvious.”

  The students were absorbing everything as quickly
as possible so they would be ready to hear her conclusion.

  “I believe they fled to the far side of Suen.” Without waiting for a reaction she began elaborating.

  “As you know, the moon is the closest of the all objects in our Utu system. Now I believe they could have traveled much farther, but they wanted to keep watch and wait until the Great Calamity had subsided. Also, they chose to escape to the farside as a shield from the global seismic devastation and atmospheric convulsions which forever altered our world.

  “I believe that when they are ready, they will signal us, but as you know, Suen always keeps the same face towards us. We know there is a far side, because we can see glimpses at the top and bottom as it tips slightly in its path. It is at these points that we should look for signs—a mission which I have taken upon myself.

  “The primary evidence for my Suen theory is this: We have studied the surface of Suen for the past two-hundred years, and we have seen no sign of life, precisely because the Semyaz have been trying to survive in unknown conditions on the farside, and are unable to communicate.”

  None of the mesmerized students noticed that her “evidence” was based on a negative premise. It also had never occurred to Mentor Inanna.

  For the benefit of possible doubters in the room, she concluded.

  “Perhaps I am wrong. Perhaps they are in hiding somewhere on this world, but we must be willing to do whatever we can to find them or attract their attention. The continued survival of life as we know it depends on their help. We also must be prepared to help them help us.”

  She had definitely sparked some interest and even created some new disciples. Their faces shone with a desire to save humanity. Innana and her husband needed as many recruits as possible for this most urgent cause.

  “I’m sorry, but I must leave now. I have some urgent observations, and, as you know, the heavens wait for no one.

  “I’m leaving Felpag in charge, and he has a quick dissertation on pre-Calamity physiology which I’m sure you’ll enjoy.

  “Thank you so much for coming, and I hope to see you all again, soon.”

  She turned to leave through a side door behind the desk, but as she did, she caught a glimpse of the two students who had arrived together—one of whom she did not know. They were leaving abruptly, as if they were late for another appointment. The same chill resurfaced. It was so difficult when informants found her meetings. So far, her husband’s influence had protected her, but it couldn’t last forever.

  She dismissed her fears and allowed a wave of excitement to overtake her as she began to prepare for the night’s observations.

  Perhaps the mystery of Nibiru would finally be solved.

  Chapter 5

  Alternatives

  “Evidence never lies. But the eyes through which it is viewed often do.”

  Chief Advisor Sarphaxad entered the room hurriedly but respectfully.

  “High Minister,” he said carefully. “It is time.”

  Reu-Nathor was resting in the Heaven’s Gate chamber high atop the Citadel. This small room held the greatest secrets known to man: instruction manuals on differential calculus and other higher mathematics, and most importantly—never disclosed information from before the Great Calamity.

  The most guarded secret (the final verse of the initiates’ song) was the knowledge that their planetary/star system contained a total of twelve objects, including the sun and this world with its moon. The outer three were too faint to be seen, (with proper instruction, the closest of these could sometimes be seen), but it was known which house they were in, and their cycles and paths were followed faithfully. It was also known, but had never been observed, that the colors of the outer two were green and blue, respectively.

  To Reu-Nathor, on this evening, the most beautiful attribute of this chamber was that it was high above the traffic and noise below.

  “Prepare the roof,” he instructed. Tonight’s goal was to try one more time and spot the elusive Nibiru. It should be visible within the constellation of the Twins, and the past several evenings had been spent trying to re-discover it. They had charted an unknown object the night before, and were anxious to see if it had moved relative to the fixed stars.

  Nibiru was also known as the Crossing Planet, since it ‘crossed over’ or occupied the void between the smaller inner planets, and the giant outer ones. However, now that Nibiru had not been seen for almost two hundred years, ‘Crossing Planet’ had come to mean crossing from visible to invisible.

  The section of the ceiling began to slide sideways and expose the night sky. A sharp draft of cool air entered through the opening, and Reu-Nathor stood up and headed for the stairs, pulling his cape over his shoulders.

  There were now four advisors who were making preparations, and one scribe who was ready to record the night’s events.

  The High Minister welcomed them all.

  “Tonight we share again the opportunity to locate that which has eluded us, and to demonstrate to the world the wisdom and knowledge which we have fashioned.

  “May this night be the night.”

  The level of enthusiasm seemed to drop several levels at this last sentence. Nibiru was gone, possibly destroyed during the same time as the Great Calamity. It was hard to imagine something destructive marring the perfection of the heavens, but it had been seen before. He himself had witnessed the “Dancing Star”, Ea, which had swelled and exploded. For weeks everyone watched the shooting spikes of light from the southern constellation, The Sail, illuminate the horizon. It had happened just a few years before the Great Awakening.

  He was now standing on the roof of the largest Citadel in existence. The expanse of the heavens poured over him, and he could discern individual stars in their color and clarity. He could see the Margidda, the milky swath of luminescence which cut through the firmament and thought of the legend of Utnapishtim, who rejoiced upon seeing this ‘river of the night’ again for the first time after the Great Calamity.

  The advisors were talking hurriedly and excitedly amongst themselves. Reu-Nathor approached and inquired, “Is it there again tonight?”

  “High Minister, you know that what we saw last night was most assuredly much too small. In fact, it will be a few more days before we can be certain that it is not a comet.”

  “It can’t be a comet!” Inanna almost shouted at her husband. They had been watching this new tiny visitor for three days, now. “It’s very close to where Nibiru should be!”

  “We must be patient.” Her husband reeked of calm. “Besides, this is much too faint. According to our charts, Nibiru should be closer to earth now than it has been in over two hundred and twelve years, and all of the oral records insist that it should be almost as bright as Nergal. This wanderer is barely visible.”

  “The light is still moving against the stars, High Minister.” Sarphaxad had been dutifully recording its transit for weeks, now, and wanted to avoid jumping to any conclusions. “But, it does not increase or decrease in brightness. It certainly does not shine with the intensity needed for Nibiru. We are unsure as to the meaning of this.”

  “I’ll tell you the meaning of this.” Reu-Nathor had made up his mind. Almost a month of studying its crossing had become very wearisome. “Nibiru is destroyed. We have simply discovered a remnant that has remained in its path. Apparently, it did not survive its Great Calamity.”

  “Reu-Nathor is a fool!” Inanna was furious. “These no-heads simply ignore our years of research, and then vomit their ignorance throughout the masses.” This epithet was heard only among Mentors and was an abbreviation of no-foreheads—a racist slur directed at the non-Mentor majority and their smaller brows—and brains.

  It had now been almost a month since the discovery of the tiny wanderer, and the average citizen was now aware of the new visitor and excitedly tracking its path through the heavens.

  The object of Inanna’s scorn had just made his public pronouncement. The High Minister claimed to have discovered the remnant of Ni
biru, but Inanna knew that his advisors had done all the work. The idea that a celestial wanderer could simply explode was ludicrous. It was obvious that something drastic had happened to Nibiru’s path, and that people had simply been looking in the wrong place.

  There was one reason—and only one—why Nibiru did not have its former brilliance: It was farther away. It was her calculations that had brought them this last glimpse.

  “Perhaps the charts and calculations we use today are wrong.” Her husband was being thoughtful as usual. He turned to her. “We should compare the reported brilliance of pre-Calamity Nibiru with the current intensity. We could then create a more accurate path and even determine what role it may have played in the Great Calamity.”

  “I knew I married you for more than just your big, beautiful, black forehead.” Inanna broke into a huge smile as her irritation melted away. “You always know how to clarify a situation and provide a clear path where anyone else would see only confusion.” She threw her arms around him, but continued to shake her head in frustration.

  Their one hundred and twenty-third anniversary was two months away and they were still the perfect team. In fact, they had been on a trip for their twentieth anniversary when they had awakened the next morning, unaware they were speaking to each other in a new language. They hadn’t even noticed it until she tried to read the research notes she had written the day before. It had been strange translating her own research from a language of which she had no memory. Inanna shook her head. She had known couples who had awakened to find they spoke different languages.

  “Ishrah…” said her husband. Ishrah was his pet name for her—a diminutive of Ishtar, her pre-Awakening name—and also the goddess of love. “With your mathematics confirming my theories, nothing can stop us. I have a hunch, but I’ll wait until you begin some preliminary calculations.”