“Deep space is a quiet and beautiful thing.

In it we feel within the womb of the creator, in a meditation beyond reason and words.

We are travelling between the cells of an unfathomable organism, of which we are but a small part.

Seeing ourselves mirrored in this space, we yearn for wakefulness, for we feel asleep.

When will this journey end?

When will we see daylight? “

                                  

Captain Eshi-enn, Cargo-ship Conocer

 

Year 2439, lunar month 7

 

 

  The cargo-ship approached nebulon 11 after 48 years of travelling through deep space. Conocer had been sent from Earth with the mission of re-supplying nebulon 11 with a new wave of settlers, and with modern tools and vital goods, and now the end of their journey was near. The crew was euphoric to have finally reached their intended goal. To some it was the culmination of a life-long mission.

From the floating ship all that were watching could see the third moon sinking behind the small but impressive planet. It was the time of the second Sunset. Already two generations of settlers had been born on the ship, and all were eager to go down and meet the descendants of the brave souls who had volunteered to be part of the first human wave to colonize the distant planet nebulon 11.

On the ship’s brain the crew was happily busy preparing the pods and equipment for the descent, but the captain was worried. He had not been able to establish contact with the colony as of yet. Since the moment he had known Conocer to be in range of communication he had ordered requests for communication to be sent out towards nebulon 11 at regular intervals, but all were to no avail. There had been no answer, and the captain and his closest officers were beginning to suspect something was wrong.

The ship grew nearer to the planet, and slowly its motors came to a halt, until Conocer just lay there hovering over the beautiful planet, finally resting at the end of it’s long road. A nervous atmosphere of expectation could be felt in the air as everyone gathered in the assembly hall as requested by the captain. The captain spoke, and few could believe their ears when the he informed them that the long-awaited descent would not be possible until the crew was able to ascertain the reasons for the absence of communication with nebulon 11.

 

Everyone aboard was disheartened and disappointed. Some were worried, and some were angry. And like so they all returned to their given places and stations to resume life as usual. There was nothing else that could be done until some sort of contact was made with the colony.

So it was for the next few days, everyone continued doing what they had grown so accustomed to doing during the long travel to Nebulon 11, with their minds always set on the planet. Yet the frustration of being halted at the finish line could not take away the dreams of the occupants of the Conocer.

“ I wonder what it is like down there?” they all had wondered at one time or another, “I wonder if it is as beautiful as Earth?” Most of these people had never seen the Earth in flesh, and most of them never would, for the distance between Nebulon 11 and Earth was so long that it had taken three generations of settlers to make it.

 

As the birth of the third day came to pass, the choking silence between Conocer and the colony was suddenly broken. It came in the form of an obscure and broken message from Yoayar, one of the children born in Nebulon 11.

The whole crew at the brain of the ship was caught off guard by the message sent to them from the colony’s headquarters, and when they presented it to the captain they were all still struggling to comprehend what they had heard. A voice had arisen from the intercom speakers, soft and calm, all pervading as in a dream, and what it had said had left them with troubled minds.  The captain listened closely to the words of Yoayar:

 

“…Anywhere…at any time…in every thing…it is focused…One…not in one thing but in all things…since all things stem from its oneness…We have come forth from it…and we are of the same nature as all else that has come forth from it…All connected to the same centre…and reflecting the same principles…Light and life…Death and darkness…Beginning and end…Two sides of the same thing which is neither but all…beyond names and concepts…It does not render itself for our illusion to grow…it does so for our clarity…but it is we who discern the manifest destiny as many-fold…simply by the tendency to compare…and the tendency to compare encourages us to grade and prefer…to dissect…to catalogue and classify…to differentiate between what we see as the ten thousand things…This is the illusion which makes us sick…This is why we are mortal…Blessings flow…I am Yoayar…The last survivor on nebulon 11…And I salute you with the hope…that you have not come here to die…”

 

 

The captain sat in his chair perplexed by what he had heard, surrounded by his crew that was now looking at him in anticipation. Without a word he retired to his quarters so that he could think over this cryptic message in isolation, yet no matter how much he tried to wrap his head around it he could not understand what it all meant and what it’s purpose was. He knew that he would not be able to decide what course of action to take in order to fulfil his mission, if he could not understand what Yoayar had said or meant. 

There were many doubts in his mind:

-Why did Yoayar say he was the last survivor?

-What could have caused this?

-What did he mean he hoped that they had not come to nebulon 11 to die?

-Was the planet safe?

No matter how much he searched for the answers, these would not come to him alone, so he called a meeting with the most brilliant and educated minds on the ship in order to review and analyse the words of Yoayar together.

 

The next morning they gathered in the park, by the great windows that were now overlooking nebulon 11, and one by one they all sat down on the grass. When everyone that had been invited had arrived the captain explained his dilemma and played the recording of Yoayar’s voice for them to hear.

 

They all listened attentively and in silence, and when the recording had finished, no one had even a trace of an understanding expression on their face. As they began to discuss what they had heard all these hypothesis came to the surface: Was Yoayar a madman or a sane man? Had he done something to the others? Maybe he was lying? Should they go and investigate?

 

So the brilliant intellectual minds wondered, and no answers were being found. And while the sterile words were being sent to the air someone approached the group coming from within the gardens and spoke up to be heard:

“I know what he meant…” the voice spoke thus interrupting the conversation “…he was speaking of God”.

 

Everyone looked up at this stranger with unbelieving eyes.

“Who are you?” asked the captain, rising to his feet. The stranger’s appearance was not that of an officer or anyone of high position.

“I am Moore the gardener,” Moore answered shyly.  He was not comfortable with this kind of attention, and now everyone was looking at him inquisitively.

“Well Moore” the captain said mockingly, “Could you explain to us what you think he meant?”

“Yes sir, I can. That man was talking of God, and of the interconnectedness and interdependence of all things,” Moore answered.

“What of the bit about us dying?” asked one from the group of intellectuals.

“That I do not understand.” Said Moore, “ I suggest you question him on it next time he opens communication.” And he walked away back into the gardens.

 

The captain asked everyone to proceed as usual until summoned. He would call them when he had heard more of Yoayar. Yet as soon as he had said that, everyone heard an excited voice call for the captain through his intercom.

“Captain, captain,” the voice spoke urgently, “Yoayar has spoken again. We are going to relay the message…” And with this they once again heard Yoayar speak:

 

“…Greetings my brethren.

I am so happy that you have finally arrived, for I have been alone for such a long time now, and I have missed the company of those who speak in words. Yearning for this moment I have been, and now it has come.

Today I have dreamt of you, coming down through the clouds to land in this here home of mine. But it was not a good dream, for when you descended from your ship I saw your skin begin to rot and your body begin to decompose. In no time you all were dust that was blown far up into the sky, back to the clouds and all that remained of you were your ships.

I have dreamt of you a second time today, talking to me from above the clouds, floating in your metal cocoon. And this one was a good dream, for this time you did not die, you flew away, and only I died in the end.

 

Dreams are like clouds. Their forms are different, but in essence they are all the same. What I would do is pick the most beautiful dream and follow that one cloud as far as it would go. That is why I am to tell you that you must not descend.

I ask myself, what is it that this beautiful cloud tells me with its ever-changing shape?

This cloud is my self, learning, growing and changing with the circumstances that surround it, and the sky is the path, ever-present for all.

Everything is spirit, and each individual piece contains within itself the potential for realization of the Overall spirit. The self within the self is the self without the self, inside and outside.

Because all things are meant for all things, they contain an interaction, a response for all things. In me I saw you and in you I saw me. We are One and the same. Clouds, different in form and same in essence.

Here they float between the Earth and the sky. There they float between the sky and the Earth. The only difference is in where we look from, not in what we look at.

You are floating just like them right now, high up above the land. At night I am seeing you shine like a new star, hanging from a mantle of darkness, but not for ever…”

 

No one could understand his mysterious words. There were confused mumbles all around, and only one thing was agreed upon; that Yoayar seemed to have no recollection of his previous message by the way he had spoken this time.

The confused captain resigned to the fact that the intellectuals were of no help. He walked slowly to his quarters as he pondered about what course of action would be best taken.

“I have never been in such a bizarre situation. What should I do?” he thought to himself.  “I am so baffled that I cannot think straight. It seems to me that even a simple gardener, a man without half the education and training that I have been given, can understand this man Yoayar better than I.”

With this an idea arose in his mind. He would summon the gardener and appoint him as the mediator between the ship and Yoayar. He would arrange it so that Jnana, the head analyst, would accompany and counsel Moore in his new task.

 

Jnana and Moore were introduced to each other and placed on the assignment. They were now pinpoint men, and were to leave all their other occupations behind. The interpretation of Yoayar’s words became a priority of utmost importance, for the end of the journey could never be if it was not safe to land in nebulon 11, and the hearts of all aboard would be broken if this could not happen. They were both given a workspace at the head of the ship and were ordered to be on permanent call.

 

So it came to pass; Jnana and Moore got their things ready and headed to the ship’s brain. As soon as they had settled in and sat down on their respective desks, Yoayar was once again heard through the speakers saying:

 

            “Greetings Jnana and Moore. Blessings flow.

The voices in the air have told me about you, and I am very proud to have you assigned to me. I apologize for the confusion I have sown amongst you but I must say that I am a very confused cocoon myself. Quite like the time you picked those mushrooms from the garden and ate them Moore. Remember that? Don’t be embarrassed Moore, those around you could never understand what you saw…but I can. You saw how all things glow with the same life that is within you isn’t it? You felt inside the road didn’t you? Yes you did, and I was there with you.

Jnana, you are a man of science, and those around you think you are strange and eccentric, but they all admit that you are a brilliant man. You have read so much into the written word that now you read but one thing. I know what that is; it is the patterns of human thought that you see now when you read. The archetypes and motifs you know now.  I have seen them as well my friend, and I have seen beyond them too.

 

I live in a beautiful chaos because I accept it, and the lucidity through which I speak to you now will soon fade. But I have been granted this speech so that I may make this known to you:

If you come down to this planet, you will die.

 

Life here was amazing at first. There is a beauty here that marvels even the darkest of men. It captures you and grows within you until the rapture takes you away.

Then it begins. The end. When the end of the 32^nd year cycle arrives, and the three moons are aligned in front of the Sun, there is a long night. And at that moment we see the beginning of the end arrive.

There is a flower that sleeps throughout the cycle of Sun and awakens only during the long night. At that moment it opens and releases its sweet pollen, which floats with the currents until it has visited the four directions of the planet. There is no escaping it and no eradicating it, for it is so inexhaustible that it is an unavoidable destiny all here must face.

At first we were all amazed at this fantastic sight. Dust-like pollen floating everywhere, glowing hues of all colours and landing all over everything. Covering all things, it was a stunning sight.

But then the true darkness of our night came and the consequences began to take place. There is an effect in us humans caused by the inhalation of this pollen. When our body begins to mature, and the hormones that shape the adult are released, the body begins to change. Then, the resident pollen in us interacts with those hormones, and our body begins to age rapidly.

During the time when this process begins and ends, our minds become a fertile and uncontrollable field of thoughts and ideas. Those controlled by fear die in horror. Those of pure hearts die in bliss. Those that are evil burn in their own evil doing. Those that are good ascend and see light in the long night.

I am the youngest of the colony, and the last to live through this process.

There is not escaping it and no eradicating it for it is prolific and an unavoidable destiny all here must face.

I hope you do not have the arrogance shown by manhood throughout its history and try to come down to Nebulon 11, for there is no defeating this nature. It will always be here.

This I know well.

Blessings flow.“

 

Jnana and Moore were overcome with compassion for all those who had perished in the colony. As soon as Yoayar had finished speaking they both quickly spoke back into the intercom and asked him:

 

“What can we do for you Yoayar? Can we help you in any way?”

 

“You can keep me company good Jnana and good Moore, record the communion in our communication, and pass on this information for the study and benefit of mankind. May we learn from our mistakes and move on…”

 

With this there was a long silence on the air.

 

Captain Eshi called a meeting to discuss all that had happened, and it was agreed that there were no means with which to fight this epidemic. Word was sent back to Earth to inform the Central about the situation, and Earth replied with consent for Conocer to remain near Nebulon 11 until Yoayar perished. Nebulon 11 was to be abandoned after this. There was no good reason to spend any more on its colonization. Captain Eshi relayed the facts of the situation to the general populace of the ship, to the disappointment and disbelief of most.

 

Jnana and Moore remained in their position as pinpoints to accompany and monitor Yoayar’s evolution on the brain of the ship, and Yoayar’s communications began to be transmitted throughout speakers and film-rooms throughout the ship to those who had become sympathetic and interested in his ordeal...