Mesopotamia - The Redeemer (11 page)

"And natural strings?" he
inquired.

"We know of their existence, but
they're on the edges of the universe, in remnants left over from
the infancy of the universe. The pace of the expansion of space
prevents us from ever being able to see them".

"You mentioned Pythagoras".

"Yes," she said with reverence.

"Who is he"?

His rapid pace of understanding had
made Sophia forget the fact that his memory was lost. "Pythagoras
was a Greek academic, one of the first who understood that the
universe works according to mathematic principles. He discovered
the constant 'Phi', the number 1.618, which expresses the perfect
proportion, and exists in a lot of examples in nature. It is the
ratio between the rings on the shells of gastropods in the sea; the
ratio between the trunk, the branch, the leaf, and the leaflet of a
tree, or the ratio between the bends in the galaxies.

"Pythagoras discovered these
principles back in the sixth century BCE, and implemented them in
architecture or in the proportion between the lengths of strings
that make harmonious music. Orpheus was the last in the dynasty of
distinguished Pythagoreans, from the ancient Greek architect and
sculptor Phidias, who built the Parthenon, to Leonardo Da Vinci,
who painted the human body according to the proportions of Phi in
the Renaissance period. Even the capitalists at the beginning of
the third millennium used Fibonacci's sequences, which were based
on Pythagoras, to predict rises and falls in commercial share
exchange rates".

"Clearly I don't know any of them,"
he said, ironically.

"It doesn't matter. The important
thing is to understand that Orpheus outdid his predecessors; He
came to the fundamental discovery, the most concealed, the constant
ratio between the size of the universes and the dimensions folded
one inside the other. Orpheus had the formula that makes it
possible to calculate the ratio between a one-dimensional
sub-string particle, and the universe stored in it, which has
eleven dimensions. He understood Pythagoras as no one had
understood him before. But don't get it wrong. From everything
we've said until now, you might think the greatness of the
cosmologists was in their ability to observe nature with the help
of mathematics".

"Don't get it wrong? If that's the
case, I haven't understood a thing," he said, confused.

You understood, don't worry.
Everything I've said about cosmological discoveries is true, but
its importance is only in the fact that it confirmed what they
felt".

"What"?

"They checked and established
everything that they felt – the fact that men feel the unity of the
universe is a wonderful thing! From that point of view, Pythagoras
was a clear genius. He believed in unity thousands of years before
proof could be found based on observations of nature. That's why
the unity he found didn't stay in the realm of cosmology, but
rather was turned into a way of life by Pythagoras," she said
passionately.

"Does it have something to do with
the dance I saw you performing earlier"?

"Yes. That is the ceremony which
indicates my participation in the unity of creation. Orpheus
applied the whole of Pythagoras's theory, and founded a brotherhood
of people who maintain the principles of human harmony just as
Pythagoras formulated and kept them: pacifism, vegetarianism,
satisfaction with a little, and abolition of personal property. The
materialistic Atheists didn't like that".

"Why"?

"With the discovery of the constant
of creation and its religious implications, a rift opened up
between Orpheus and his Pythagorean followers on one side, and the
Atheists on the other. Just as the Catholic Church preferred the
theological atrophy of the middle-ages over the spiritual renewal
and scientific discoveries following the discovery that the Earth
orbits the sun, so did the Atheistic government. Orpheus's
discovery appeared to them to be a danger to the stability of the
materialistic culture, and they preferred the Atheistic atrophy.
After a long process, during which the struggle with the traces of
humanity on Earth continued, the Pythagoreans and the Atheists
founded colonies on separate planets. The Pythagoreans on Octavia
and the Atheists on Dust".

"Why not on Earth"?

"On Earth there were violent groups
developing. The Atheists and the Pythagoreans weren't interested in
forcing their beliefs on others. Humanity had suffered enough from
religious wars, and so they preferred to start anew in a new place
where they could formulate their own principles and beliefs. We,
the Pythagoreans, intended to return to our mission for humanity
only after our own continued existence was guaranteed. Even today
there are arguments between Pythagoreans about the extent of
isolation needed to survive and the extent of openness necessary to
have influence. The perceived danger to the Pythagoreans was not
the only reason we abandoned Earth. In fact, that's how danger was
averted from all of humanity. Orpheus knew that such a sensational
discovery could change the paradigm of human thought. He knew that
the technology which would result from the discovery of An, the
Constant of Creation, could be harnessed for destructive purposes,
and be taken as a "miracle" that awakens messianic discontent which
could go in any direction. An could cause a change in the
philosophical, mathematical, physical, and eventually technological
paradigms. He knew it was not safe to trust humans to use the new
technology to build and not to destroy. He preferred to take the
secret with him than to share it".

"It's a good thing he
succeeded".

"Actually, he didn't".

"What?" he said, surprised.

"He didn't succeed." Sophia sat
down in the silk cocoon and looked into the eyes of the stranger.
"Adamas was Orpheus's deputy in the research laboratory and he
stole the formula for the creation constant 'An'. At the same time
as Orpheus was founding the Pythagorean Brotherhood, Adamas founded
the New Gnosis Order. That's how the terrible secret ended up in
the wrong hands".

"So Adamas is the founder of the
Gnosis"?

"The New Gnosis, yes".

"And how did Adamas use the
secret?" asked the stranger.

"Adamas swept after him the
desperate people of earth, and together they built an army that
recruited more and more people and resources, and all with the aim
of developing technological applications for the creation constant
An".

"For what purpose"?

"On Samos we research the creation
of matter according to the creation constant. To this end, our
research is done with the help of the simulator and the processor.
The Gnostics also base their work on discovery of technological
applications, but their purpose is to dismantle matter".

"What for?" the stranger
questioned.

"For destruction".

"Destruction of what?" he asked in
amazement.

"Of everything, of every living
thing, of the entire universe if they have the opportunity." She
saw something hardening within him and continued, "It's
complicated. They believe in destruction as a spiritual
mission".

The stranger was silent. Everything
was beginning to consolidate like the pieces of a jigsaw
puzzle.

"Do you understand?" she asked, her
voice pained.

"No, I don't understand them, but I
understand why Thales is afraid of the possibility that I might be
a Gnostic spy".

It was clear again to Sophia that
she would not be able to concentrate. She tried in vain to tune the
sound of the spinning of the spheres. She was tempted to use an
automatic calibrator but restrained herself at the last minute.
After several tries, the station finally played the exact sounds.
'Can I ever tune myself like this?' she wondered. She removed her
robe and sank into the soft sheets.

The images and experiences left
over at the end of that stormy day came up suddenly and increased.
Thales had spoken uncharacteristically harshly. He claimed,
seemingly logically, that he had to look after the security of the
station and check out the stranger. And yet, his words implied that
he didn't trust her, and was thus forced to act to the best of his
understanding, without consulting her. He had never acted like this
before. Why had he lost his faith in her? Why had he been pushed to
such manipulative actions, in complete contradiction with the
Pythagorean way?

She knew there was no denying the
fact that there was something in him, the stranger, something that
disrupted the harmony that had characterized their lives in the
station until today. Again, she felt the nagging feeling in her
mind about the identity of the man.

Speculation overwhelmed her mind.
His comprehension speed showed that he came from a knowledge
abundant civilization.

She didn't think he was Gnostic,
despite Thales's suspicions. He didn't have their typical tattoo
behind his ear. But maybe he wasn't Gnostic, but was still a spy in
their service, having been forced into it by violence, torture or
terrible extortion?

It couldn't be. But why not? She
reminded herself that she didn't know anything – just like him –
about his personal life. What was his profession, his job, his
position? Had he been trained to deal with this intensity, with the
distress he was facing in this situation, alone, with no identity,
outside of everything he knows, without everything that was, all
his loved ones and friends… she tried to imagine his family, the
training he had received. He has a strange scent, unfamiliar, a
scent of far-off places, she said to herself, and was surprised:
why in the world was she giving her opinion about the scent of a
man? And then she recalled the scent of Thales when he held her
hand.

Sophia turned over on her mattress
restlessly. 'I am a Pythagorean ascetic, devoted only to my
duties.' But she couldn't deny the truth: the stranger thrilled
her. She was attracted to his mystery, even if he was mysterious
against his will; she thought back to his look, knowledgeable,
trusting; a look that contradicted his situation. She was shocked
when she realized that his look had caused her to regret her vows
of asceticism. She rose, got dressed, and went to the station's
bar.

Barman, as everyone called him,
knew the night-owls who frequented the bar well. The Pythagoreans
didn't drink alcohol. They had to be satisfied with drinks like
coffee for alertness or chamomile for relaxation. In the evening
hours, groups of coworkers came talked and befriended others; at
night, sometimes until the small hours of the morning, came
individuals.

"What can I indulge you with?"
Barman asked Sophia.

"I need something to help me fall
asleep".

"Something to curb alertness,"
Barman smiled a tiny smile through his beard, long and pale, with
streaks of white. He was short and athletic, but the loose clothes
he customarily wore hid his muscles. Hid his strength. He was
exceptional: His curly hair was wild, tiny wrinkles at the sides of
his eyes and his bronzed skin testified to the fact that he had not
spent his entire life on the space station. When the bar was full
of customers he worked with the speed of a demon, but on his face
there was the smile of a child. His wise, understanding look
induced a feeling of tranquility on his guests. He took out a
bottle with valerian root extract from under the counter, dropped a
few drops into a thick guava drink, added crushed ice and
stirred.

"This is for the head of the head
of the station." He placed a napkin on the counter and placed the
glass on it. Like her colleagues in the station, Sophia appreciated
Barman's warm, noninvasive treatment. He never asked people direct
questions about what was bothering them. He usually managed to make
them relax or put a smile on their faces, either with a generally
consoling and relaxing comment, or with a wise proverb or an
original and on the mark metaphor. Everyone who chose to share
their misgivings with him discovered him to be a loyal friend who
did his best to help.

He moved with the agility typical
of a thirty-five year old, but his white hair and deep-set eyes
gave the impression he was sixty. No one knew his exact age. In
fact, the difference between Barman and the rest of the dwellers of
the station was not summed up in his looks alone. He was the only
non-Pythagorean among all the permanent residents. Four years
earlier, Sophia had agreed to Nicomachus's odd request to include
him on the staff without asking any questions. The people of the
station respected his need for privacy – and soon he became liked
by all.

Sophia sipped her drink. "Oh, this
isn't bad at all".

"Thank you." He wiped the counter
distractedly.

"Barman".

"Yes, Sophia".

"What do you do when something is
bothering you with no end, not something worrying, but just
something, an idea or the chorus of a song, that you can't stop
thinking about"?

He was silent for a long time. In
the meantime she finished her drink. He looked into her sparkling
eyes and her wide pupils until she looked away in embarrassment.
Finally he announced: "There's nothing that can be done for
that".

She looked at him from the corner
of her eye. "Really, Barman, I thought you knew everything." She
teased him.

"I didn't say I didn't know." He
smiled. "I do know".

"Well, I'm listening".

"I know there's nothing that can be
done. You Pythagoreans are sure you can run the lives of your
thoughts. I've got news for you. Your thoughts, or rather your
feelings, run your life, and not the other way around. Seriously,
just stop fighting it".

"Is that what you do"?

Not always. I usually excel in
talking, in case you hadn't noticed," he chuckled mockingly. "But
when I do decide to do that, it usually works".