by Ashanti Luke
Cyrus turned, and it felt as if Paeryl’s fingers had left impressions in his hand. Cyrus relished the lingering connection even as he walked away. Before he left the Forum, one way or another, he would have an answer to the question neither he nor Paeryl had been strong enough to ask.
• • • • •
“So what is it we are missing here? Any ideas on the connections between the city, the Hunab Ku, the microwave pyramid, and this place?” Cyrus asked pacing the floor, eager to see if his doubts about the validity of this approach could be allayed. It wasn’t because he believed it would not work. He would not have expended the time and energy to retrieve the Agamemnon unit if he had not had faith in its usefulness. At this point, it was clear that Mundi, or whoever was behind this plot, had most likely disconnected Asha from the collected history of Earth purposefully. It seemed like Cyrus’s plan had to work, but if it didn’t, he would have trouble accepting the fact that he had risked the lives, the health, and most certainly the solace the Apostates enjoyed in this crater for a snipe hunt.
Darius looked to the floor, a hollow gaze in his eyes, as if he were in deep thought, “Well, the pyramids, or at least this one on Asha, have both an inherent function and symbolic relevance in their design, correct?”
“Yeah,” Jang answered, unsure if the others knew the rhetorical questions the avatar posed were an algorithm within the complex-conditional parser used to mimic the ability of humans to form false conclusions—an ability that was at once responsible for the greatest achievements and worst atrocities of human existence—but an ability which no computer could sincerely possess, and therefore, the question, as rhetorical as it may have been, still required answering for the dialectic to continue.
Darius was still distant, seemingly enthralled by his own thoughts as he spoke, “So perhaps the designs of all the structures are as symbolic as they are functional.”
There was an awkward pause, and then Cyrus spoke up, “That makes sense.”
In response, Darius rubbed his beard, but took less time to collect his thoughts. He walked over to the holomonitor and accessed it, eliciting a grumble from Milliken. A holographic blueprint of the complex they were in appeared in the center of the floor and rotated. “This is the layout of this facility,” Darius turned and pointed to the three-dimensional map as it rotated in the center of the floor before them.
Tanner moved forward, his mouth half open in stunned recognition. “Oh my,” he said as it rotated and ad showed ten circles—three circles to the right, four in the center, and three on the left—all interlinked with passageways. “The Tree of Life,” Tanner said more to himself than everyone else.
“We are here,” Darius said as he walked toward the image and pointed to the only circle that could be called the center, “and Plato’s Cave is here,” he added pointing to the last circular room in the middle row of four that rested the furthest from the others.
“What about the Hunab Ku?” Tanner asked, awe still evident in his voice. Darius returned to the holomonitor and the image of the complex retreated and settled in a top-down view in front of them, resembling a drawing. As Darius pretended to type, a miniaturized diagram of the city appeared next to the ten linked circles and then rotated and zoomed to resemble a drawing of the Mayan symbol.
Darius turned and clasped his hands behind his back. “Hunab Ku is both the name of the head of the Mayan pantheon, and the symbol we see before us.”
Torvald could not hold his confusion any longer. “So what is the significance of this Tree of Life?”
Darius turned and indicated Tanner, allowing him to answer, which Jang knew he would do. The avatar only filled in the blanks that the user did not have, or corrected the user when he was unequivocally wrong. It was a magnificently designed program, but it was still just that, and its unwillingness to be fallible was its worst flaw.
“It’s a Kabalistic symbol representing the flow of energy throughout all aspects of the universe. Each circle, called a sephiroth, represents an aspect of existence. The topmost sephiroth, where Plato’s Cave is, represents the unknowable godhead. As a term, the Tree of Life relates to the tree in the Garden of Eden that Adam and Eve were separated from when they ate from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil.” Tanner still seemed bewildered, as if the pieces that were beginning to come together made less sense.
“What about the Hunab Ku?” Davidson asked, looking between Darius and Tanner. This time, also as Jang expected, Darius stepped forward to give the explanation, “Hunab Ku was the father of the Mayan gods. According to Mayan myth, he created the world and destroyed it three times with floods. The first world was inhabited by a race of dwarves, the second by a defiant race of beings called the Dzolob, and the last was created for the Maya themselves, or rather humanity as we know it. The symbol represents an idea of oneness, a blending of opposing forces in the universe to find harmony very similar to the yin and yang of the Taoists. Its name also implies that same oneness brings one closer to the godhead, as Tanner put it earlier.”
“So we have three symbols that represent the harmony of energy within the universe.” Cyrus stated.
“Well, wouldn’t the pyramid be a symbol of death, or the afterlife?” Milliken presented.
“Well, there was never any conclusive evidence that the primary function of Giza pyramids was to serve as tombs as no mummified king was ever found within them,” Darius chimed in, exactly as he should. As unnerving as the situation before them all was, Jang’s chest swelled with a warm pride as he watched the marriage of his own programming and the ingenuity of Cyrus’s son play out before them.
“Besides,” Torvald added, “haven’t we already established that at least the pyramid here is designed to collect the ambient energy of the universe? Seems like an accurate enough analogy for me.”
“Okay, so we have three different symbols of universal symbiosis, but what does it mean?” Davidson asked, as equally perplexed by Tanner.
“Creation,” Cyrus said and then let the words hang in the air before explaining, “Hunab Ku was the creator god of the Mayans, and the Tree of Life relates to the Biblical creation…” Cyrus paused to gather his thoughts, but Davidson interrupted.
“But weren’t the pyramids related to Osiris, the god of the afterlife?”
Darius interjected again, “Actually the association with Osiris is due to references to The Book of the Dead on the walls of the Great Pyramid, and is reinforced by the somewhat troubled assumption that they were tombs, however there have been theories throughout history that the pyramids were related to the sun god Ra, or the sky god Horus. But even the connection with Osiris would be valid because Osiris not only received the dead, but also decided which beings would enter the world.”
“There’s also a more concrete relationship,” Cyrus stepped forward, enlivened by some revelation, “This particular pyramid collects the energy from the CMB. The CMB is the microwave residue left over from the Big Bang and would therefore relate the pyramid symbol even more directly to the creation of the universe.”
The scientists all nodded, except Tanner, who seemed to be struggling with something elusive in his own mind. After a moment, he lifted his hand and spoke, “We’re missing one other connection—the societies from which each of these civilizations originate. The Tree of Life is a Kabalistic symbol, but pieces of the Garden of Eden story can be traced back to the ancient Babylonians. The Babylonians, Mayans, and Ancient Egyptians all have one thing in common; they all possessed technology and a level of civilization that seemed to come from out of nowhere.”
There was grumbling and confusion in their midst, so Tanner continued, “They all have civilizations they can trace their origins to. The Babylonians, earlier Mesopotamians, the Maya, the Olmecs, and the Egyptians, the nomadic tribes of the Nile delta, but each of these civilizations either gained their knowledge directly from the previous culture, as is the case with the Maya and the Olmecs, or there is little direct correlation between these civil
izations’ predecessors and the aspects that make the cultures noteworthy.”
“What does that mean?” Milliken seemed lost.
“I’ll give you an example, we can trace Commonspeak back to American and British English, and those languages we can trace back to the Germanic tribes and various French, Roman, Spanish, and Greek influences. We can even trace the Roman writing backward and see its logical progression. There are stratifications in how the Egyptians built tombs, but if you go on the assumption that the pyramids are not tombs, that distinction is loose at best. It’s like a group of people show up with a language no one has ever heard of, that isn’t related to any other language on the planet. Basically, with the Maya, the Egyptians, and the Babylonians, despite their differences, you have civilizations that suddenly developed complex knowledge of the stars and the sky that western civilization did not quite master until the nineteenth century at the earliest.”
“Well, what does it mean then?” Milliken repeated, visibly frustrated.
“Well, if a student doesn’t know anything in class and then suddenly aces a take-home deck exam, what do you assume?” Tanner asked.
Tanner did not have to wait for the answer. Davidson and Milliken both answered in unison before he had fully inflected the question mark. “Someone told him the answers.”
Tanner continued, “Exactly, but we know the Mayans learned from the Olmecs, but where did the Olmecs learn it? There is very little record of anything pertaining to where they came from or where they went. Why did all these civilizations develop complex calendars? They had a need to know the seasons, but not to the extent that they did. The Mayan calendar has three thousand-year periods, the pyramids suggest time periods ten thousand years apart. But there is no record of them building up to the knowledge. It’s like they showed up to the examination and suddenly had all the answers without ever registering for the class.”
“So are you suggesting there was some sort of teacher that gave these civilizations a cheat sheet?” Davidson challenged.
Cyrus chimed in with the retort, “Given the age of the links we found here on Asha, is it really so hard to believe? The presence of these things here, if our assessment of their connection is correct, implies that either advanced humans or some other race of beings created these edifices and then taught these Earth civilizations their trade secrets. Ockham’s razor cuts deeply on this one.”
“But what’s the connection,” Milliken posited, “the real connection between all three cultures? Even if the kid cheats on his exam, he has to get the answers from somewhere. And the where is usually the exact size, shape, and color of the Razor’s blade.”
And then Darius surprised Jang as well as all the other scientists, “Atlantis.” It seemed so much like an unfounded logical leap that it even took Jang off-guard. After the verbal expressions of doubt and disapproval subsided, Darius continued. “The most likely connection is Atlantis. Plato wrote about it in two works as if it were an actual place. It exists on more than one ancient map in some capacity. And if it did exist, it should be fairly obvious how time itself could obfuscate its existence.”
“How is that?” Torvald asked.
“The destruction of the Library of Alexandria, the burning of indigenous South American relics, artifacts, and tomes by zealous Catholics, the destruction of the first and second temple in Israel, the uncountable wars, conquests, and religious inquisitions throughout human history have all undoubtedly ruined vast amounts of ancient knowledge. Look at how easy it was here. Even if the pyramid and the city here were uncovered tomorrow, the majority of the Ashan populace would have little inkling to their relevance. So to say that something cannot exist because we know nothing about it is like taking Schrödinger’s cat literally—sure some of you may see the philosophical relevance, but would any of you volunteer to take the cat’s place, even if guaranteed no one would ever open the box?”
The avatar’s conjecture amazed Jang beyond words, but he searched his mind for explanations. The real Darius, in his numerous days before he modified the prompting engine, must have used such an analogy.
“So let’s look at this conjecture indirectly. If we assume Atlantis must exist, then where would it have been, where did it go?” Cyrus mediated.
There was a short pause until Milliken spoke up, “There are large landmasses that we know precious little about due to them being covered by miles of ice.”
“Greenland and Antarctica,” Darius added.
“If beings that provided Milliken’s cheat sheet really did exist, wouldn’t they most likely spread whatever knowledge they did at approximately the same time?” Torvald chimed in.
“Well there are theories that the sphinx is around ten thousand years old—possibly the pyramids as well. There is also some evidence that Olmec civilization thrived around that time,” Darius was pacing between the scientists and the images of the city and the complex that still floated in the center of the circular room.
“There are Sumerian and Judaic myths that claim advanced knowledge was given to humans by a god or offspring of divine beings and humans, but I’m not sure about the South Americans.” Tanner added.
“Viracocha,” Darius added, “was a civilizer that taught men to not act like beasts, and a form of him exists in many South and Middle American myths. He was pale-skinned and wore glistening fish scales, which was what enabled Pizarro and Cortez to so efficiently molest the people of Middle America.”
“Noah was also pale-skinned, and his father was disturbed, but he took council with Enoch, his grandfather, who was enlightened and told the father not to worry. In Sumerian myth, Utnapashtim, who is analogous to Noah, received knowledge from Ea, the god of water who sympathized with the humans,” Tanner added.
Darius looked enthusiastic now. “Viracocha also means ‘one that came from the water.’”
“In Greek mythology, Poseidon, who if I recall correctly was the patron deity of Atlantis, had his country destroyed because of a dispute with Zeus and Athena,” Tanner shot back. They were rolling now. “There is also Oannes, a Babylonian god credited with giving knowledge to mankind, and who also had the body of a fish.”
“There is also debate as to Plato’s dating of the existence of Atlantis. He says it existed about nine thousand years before his own writing in the Timeus, but historians find that date hard to accept,” Darius continued.
“But that date fits right into these calculations,” Milliken joined in on the round.
“The royalty of Atlantis was populated with Poseidon’s children, Ea took a human wife, and there is also the story of the nephilim—the children of the fallen angels that gave forbidden knowledge to man and took wives of human women. The nephilim were supposed to have been pale-skinned in a region that did not necessarily lend itself to pale skin. “Except the Aryans,” Darius was visibly excited and Jang was again disturbed by the display of emotion.
“So we’re dealing with some sort of civilizer, or race of civilizers, who were somehow displaced from their original base of operation, and, potentially, brought their knowledge to various regions on Earth when they moved. But, they also commingled with the civilizations they visited and then disappeared suddenly.” Davidson spoke up after having listened for the entire conversation. “All these various myths seem to correlate. They even seem to agree on timeframe, a timeframe we originally overlooked as ridiculous.”
“But a timeframe much less sublime given the empirical evidence in this planet,” Cyrus indicated the images floating above the floor in their midst.
“So maybe the people of this Atlantis were displaced, but why would they all travel to different locations on Earth if they had stayed hidden for so long?” Milliken added, the look of understanding quickly leaving his face.
“What do you mean?” Torvald asked.
“I mean, we left Earth because we ourselves were somewhat displaced, but we didn’t spend our energies sending emissaries and colonists to the four corners of the universe. We concentr
ated our efforts on the Set system, despite the existence of potential inhabitable planets in other systems. If there was some sort of cataclysm, it would make these connections less likely, not more.”
“We are missing one vital point, though,” Tanner posited. “The city itself. Its design is a confluence of two ideas in that the Temple is at the center of the Hunab Ku. The buildings are also vaguely Babylonian. Sensibilities of Mesopotamia and the Quiché Mesoamerica are undoubtedly interlinked there.
“What about an Egyptian link?” Cyrus asked.
“Perhaps one exists there as well,” Darius added, “The lions guarding the temple. It has been oft proposed that, given the dimensions and the perspective of the Sphinx, it originally had the head of a lion, and was recarved with a man’s face at a much later date.”
“Could we call that defacing?” Milliken looked for a laugh, but the weight of anxiety would not budge, so he just shrugged his shoulders. “How do we account for Torvald’s manes though?”
“Well, what if maned lions came along with the knowledge of how to build these buildings? What if the architects of these constructs on Asha also dabbled in genetics?” There was another audible grumble among the scientists, but Davidson continued, “Is it so hard to believe? How else would two disparate species ‘have offspring?’ If these alien gods truly did mate with the daughters of men, would it really be possible in the traditional sense? Besides, isn’t that the self-same thing we do in pod centers? We toil away, separating the chaff from the genetic wheat. Each of these cultures, Mesopotamia, Egypt, and South America, were they not plagued with either blood cults, blood sacrifices of some sort, or obsession with the dead? And all this morbidity in the service of these so-called gods. Given what we have here, why would it be so hard to believe?”
The grumbles became more affirming, and then Uzziah, who had been quiet and contemplative throughout most of the proceedings, finally spoke, “There’s something else,” he paused for a moment, looking not unlike the Darius hologram when it searched for information. “The Temple is at the center of the giant spiral. Your eye is drawn to it by the design, even on the ground level. The artificial sun is directly above it. The Temple must hold some sort of significance that we are missing—at least some significance other than the obvious.”