The Other Face of God

Chapter 1 - A long night-1

Chapter 1 - A long night

Plymouth, Ma

December 22nd 2111

2.00 a.m.

“What am I doing...”

“Are you talking about your guest or have you had a bad day, Amber?”

The silence was condensing on the walls, covered by shelves packed with dusty books.

“Perhaps, I should get rid of him” she said, glancing at the couch, where a body wrapped in blankets was lying motionless.

“Don't even think about it! It would ruin your life!” answered the voice behind her with a slight humming.

“Life...what life? Are you kidding me? Since Jason passed away I am stuck here with a damned talking machine!”

“You always had a nick for drama.”

For a moment, the cold light of the patrol tank invaded the room in spite of the closed shutters, startling her as always then, the rumble of the motor faded away and silence returned.

“Damn it! Everything should happen at the right time but, evidently, there is no such thing.” Her expression was shadowed by the armchair high back “We have to face Fate sitting on the other side of the game table. It can cheat, but you, you can only hope on a heavy dose of luck” she paused “...but I believe that even luck is on its payroll.”

“The analogy is mediocre, you can do better than that” retorted the voice amicably “do you want me to store your consideration in a file or are we just having a pleasant conversation?”

She didn't seem to hear. “Do you know which is the most boring thing in my life? The recurring of “once in a lifetime” events. It drives me crazy!”

She glared at it. Had it been human, it would have lowered its eyes for sure, but it was not. “You know, those gamblers that bet on the repeating of sequences may be right. They believe numbers like to appear in an orderly way, even if they could simply be random.”

“I have never verified the percentage of numbers sequences in gambling games. Do you want me to do it now?” it asked with its usual persistence.

She glanced at the old grandfather clock against the wall. It was ten past two a.m.

There is still time, she thought.

She kept thinking aloud, a sort of monologue.

“For centuries we have been trying to bring order to chaos” she paused...then continued “but, perhaps, Nature's balance do resides in chaos and we are the ones out of place, like an off-key note in a choir.”

More headlights, this time belonging to a convoy, hit the shutters, brightly lighting the room, reflecting on the glass of a sad, empty aquarium. The enlarged shadows of her memorabilia twirled in the centre of the room and vanished against the spine of the books on the walls.

Keep calm...there is still time.

“Are you really expecting me to answer or is it just another of your meaningless conjectures?”

“Oh...so...you have the answer...” she said sarcastically, but gently.

“Order and Chaos are antithetical abstractions. I have in store 32.664 references about the mathematical and philosophical theories on those subjects. Balance, for instance, happens when two extremities...”

“Bullshit!” she cut in with a gesture of annoyance.

“Okay, then you tell me!”

“Order is our own accomplishment. Chaos is always the responsibility of others.” she affirmed acidly, referring to the body curled up in blankets.

“It's nothing more than a convenient aphorism.”

“Mmh, proverbs, analogies... they are our only way to express abstract concepts. But I'll tell you this. Whenever reality becomes too complex or confusing, we try to interpret it through conventional, comforting thoughts. You cannot deny our mastership in this.”

“If you are thinking of metaphors or figures of speech, I agree with you. They are efforts to bring order to the chaos you were talking about, all due to your speculative mind.... I am impressed. But, are humans able to ascertain the point of origin where undetermined chaos is contained?” the voice seemed to be genuinely interested.

“Here we go! The trap with God as bait has sprung. Another one looking for the Almighty!” she exclaimed scornfully.

The man on the couch was sleeping soundly. She threw him a poisonous look, but kept her voicetone low, almost gentle.

“I can picture them, our ancestors” she said quietly, looking into space “hiding inside their humid and smelly caverns, huddling together, shivering and hoping for a new sun to rise after the long night. No!” she said firmly “God has nothing to do with it! It is fear that makes the world go round! It pushes us to search, to inquire, it mercilessly and constantly grips our stomach. It is because of fear that we delude ourselves to have at last found... Order!” she bitterly stressed this last word, raising her finger. Then her hand fell back on the armrest “But you... what can you understand?”

The conversation died.

“Are you okay?”

“Don't be ridiculous!"

“How can I be of assistance?”

“Shh, stop pestering me. Bring me that stupid medication and piss off!”

From the chart near the window, the metallic arm of the house robot, poured water in a glass and dropped into it two pills that immediately melted. When she had drunk, it put the empty glass back on the tray and carried it away with a slight electrostatic buzzing.

While she waited for the medication to take effect, her mind roamed far back, in time and space. Back to the unforgettable speech her son, Master Psychic Flavus, gave at the Brown University. It was the day the conflict began.

Amber closed her eyes, thinking about her sixty nine years and feeling them all. It will be a long night she thought, while everything was about to start all over again.

The Bear's Paradox

(from Amber Matthews Journal)

It was the morning of December 28th 2092, exactly twenty years ago in Boston, Massachusetts. The Brown University Aula Magna, was packed. My son Flavus, Master of the Psychic Guild, was sitting impassible among the other speakers. To be a Master Psychic meant to be able to enhance and widen the understanding between people by suppressing words, thus facilitating the free flow of thoughts and the smoothing of contrasts. The Guild, composed by twenty four telepathic Masters, was constantly engaged worldwide to assist insolving all kind of disputes and war-threatening conflicts.

My son seemed oblivious of the excitement that surrounded him, although the speech he was about to make was of paramount importance and the audience anticipation for it almost tangible.

The issue of the speech was no secret. For the very first time, a Master Psychic would publicly state the Guild's official position on the events happened a few months earlier in Nameloc Heights. Events that were challenging the sacred doctrines of religions all over the world.

That morning, Flavus would (may be) dispute the rumours about the new intelligent species appeared on the planet, the Fanfin Anglerfish, and (may be) rebut the accusations moved against the Guild of trying to undermine the foundations of religious dogmas. Those accusations had been made by the highest echelons of the major monotheistic religions, also attending the conference.Our University was the chosen neutral territory for such a confrontation. The extraordinary media event had attracted dozens of journalists, ready to grant full coverage to the anticipated juicy clash between beliefs and facts.

The waiting was enervating. I looked at the audience. The first row was occupied by the University President and his courtiers, the whole board of deans. Among them, emerged the tense faces of the history and theology professors, two catholic priests in full combat gear, armed with thick folders of documents and annotations. Beside them sat a large group of Imams, looking uninterested and resigned to the waste of their time. The rabbis delegation was smiling and bowing, while throwing hostile glances at the few Shi'ite representatives. Many of the back rows were occupied by students belonging to the counter- movement. They were all wearing t-shirts showing the sharp-toothed mouth of a Fanfin and the writing “Fanfs: the other face of God!”

At ten sharp, excitement at its peak, I, the appointed moderator, went to the podium to declare the debate officially open . I would have gladly renounced the honour, but, beside teaching Bio-genetic at that same University, I was Master Flavus' mother, which made my refusal impossible. The situation was highly sensitive and I was expecting trouble from the very first minutes. The choice of our University had been met by fierce opposition, two thirds of the Professors Council was against it. Feeling the mood of the audience, I decided to play it safe and edited the most controversial parts of my introductory speech. In spite of that, my uneasiness was growing. The podium I was approaching looked more like gallows to me and I began, carefully choosing my words.

“Good morning. On behalf of the Brown University I have the honour to represent, it is my pleasure to welcome and thank you for your attendance to this event, that I hope will prove useful and enlightening to us all.”

I even succeeded in smiling, and paused to give the audience time to settle.

“Many of you already know me” I said “my name is Amber Matthews and I teach biology here. For the past two years I have also organized bio-genetic preparatory seminars and I am glad to see in the audience a few survivors.”

Some fools giggled.

“Today, I am proud to introduce a representative of the Psychic Guild. He kindly accepted the invitation, extended by our President, to talk about a sensitive and controversial matter too important to be ignored”.

Today, for the first time, we will publicly debate about the new sentient species appeared on this planet, the Fanfin Anglerfish. I hope the participants will keep their speeches within the boundaries of due sobriety and respect. Please, welcome Master Flavus, just arrived from Europe to attend our meeting!”

A warm, but slightly awkward applause heartened me.

“Doubts and uncertainties are all legitimate. We have neglected and underestimated the events of the past months. So far, they had been dismissed or denied, but their impact on our social stability is now undeniable and it is mandatory to find a new balance.”

A cautious murmur run through the audience.

“The appearing of the Fanfins was indeed unexpected and hard to believe, but it was not the only extraordinary event to catch us unprepared. We have received an equally amazing message from the Collector, a god-like entity, a witness of our planet evolution through the eras.

In a few days the Master Psychics will divulge his message to the planet, to reveal the origin of life on Earth, our life...all life.”

The whispers became a nervous rumble. The audience was restless like a racing horse waiting for the start signal.

I went on: “We are all aware of the cultural and religious shock brought by this new reality. It needs to be faced very cautiously and thoroughly. We are here today to widen our knowledge with the intellectual honesty and objectivity the subject deserves. Our nation has been given the chance to be the first to set the socio-political rules for a peaceful cohabitation and they will be the beacon lighting the path for the whole world to follow.”

I had tried to keep my speech mild, but, perhaps, the beacon metaphor had been a bit too much. Anyway, so far I had not been doing too bad and, with a last effort, I proceeded to my closing.

“I know some of you feel confused and scared at the thought of another intelligent species evolving on the planet right now. That's the reason for the presence here, today, of a Master Psychic, a leading expert on truthful communication. He will offer you the tools to manage the process of social integration that we will all be called to begin. It will not be quick or easy, but, I hope, it will be pursued with good will and determination. After the conference, the Master will be available for private meetings should someone feel the need for more clarifications. Thank you for your attention.”

Done!, I thought with a sigh of relief, exiting the scene accompanied by a loud applause. My introduction, in spite of the sensitivity of the topics, seemed to have stirred no tensions and, reasonably satisfied, I went back to my seat.