And just ones came to Him, and silently submissively bow down before Him.
And pure ones came to Him, and fire of their spirit shined even brightly for they were staying nearby Him.
He accepted them all, refusing no one. For how is it possible to refuse to the children, coming to their Father ?
But somewhere on a joint of the worlds, invisible to an eye of human, enormous clocks keep ticking, measuring the time until the Judgment Day, the day of estimation. The Moment Of Truth.
But still loved did the God his children – and lived in their world near them for the time being. And the chance was given to everyone…
But all this was later, much later. Even though time has no meaning for Immortal ones.
But for now the God was sitting under a huge shady tree on the planet Earth – and was dreaming. He was dreaming of the new wonderful worlds …
The world on the horizon
That was disgusting. Nay, that was terrible. Only four hours after “officially legislatively approved dates of time of rest” has passed, and all shops have been closed. Not a single one from those necessary to him, worked so early … or late – whatever is proper to each one … Damn !
He needed one shop … just a single shop, trading the necessary stuff. All those twenty ones familiar to him, which he has flown by on flycar, “have been closed due to upcoming professional holiday of sexual minorities in accordance with the official decree of the capital’s mayor". All of them !
Damn !
Such legislative citizens … such angels. Wolves in the sheep skins. Three out of twenty of these downtown-shops traded dreamcatcher, nineteen out of twenty traded kayfan, ten out of twenty – lisben. It’s, of course, the informal statistics – according to official reports, contained in the central database of the State department, everything was clear. Crystal-clear. Too clear to be truth.
And this are those, who should in every possible way to “help and assist in every manner” of preservation of citizens’ health … wolves in sheep skins.
And yet that very dreamcatcher has been forbidden for application, manufacturing or any use in the collateral purposes in all state’s territory. The strongest possible drug, made about five years ago as a by-product of some super confidential research of scientific laboratories of Pharmatheuticals United, it was capable to change human’s brain completely. Not some weak hallucinogen – it completely changed person’s vision of his surroundings after the injection of only one milligram into the blood. It was, actually, nicknamed as such, “a dream catcher” – all deep layers of human’s sub consciousness were revived, ten, twenty, thirty years-old memory came to life – all in one instant, all like a raging stream … and this was even better than VR – for no additional equipment was necessary anymore, no electrodes … human’s brain could do everything – it was simply necessary to aid a little.
Who of us did not dream ? And dreams of how many did come to life ? This devil’s drug made this possibility absolute – and you have been living through all your twenty, thirty, or forty years in these several days … in the world of your illusions, though, but was this really important ? All your dreams came true – all those, provided by deep memory. And approximately a month later a human died – his brain was simply “burnt down”. The brain simply did not survived.
Really, that was a very fascinating death. To die, feeling with the rest of your fading consciousness, that you are happy – for you are fulfilled. For your dreams – here they are, all in front of you, – all came to life, and who the hell cares what sort of dreams were these. To die with a blissful smile on your face …
It was supposed to be given to dying people, whose chances of survival were equal to zero. But they have miscalculated. Two-three percent of the state’s population died of its usage annually – and they were not doomed people. Fifty percent of these ones were not even thirty years old …
And then they sounded the alarm. And then they have published their decrees. And then they have mobilized that Liberty Security State Police Department … late. Too late.
“The love has come – die, love, oh damn !”, - a phrase from recently seen interactive movie has emerged from sub consciousness. Yet this love lived on. And internal security service could no nothing.
It’s like a plague, like pestilence – it will not stop until almost all are left dead.
And these were just the florets.
Almost an hour has passed since the moment of the begging of his searches – and he has not even found a single shop, trading in preparations, lowering level of testosterone, adrenaline and related hormones in blood – something, that could save his body when a radio channel’s video stream of information will be transmitted to his nejro-pulse helmet – information, of whose “content’s purity” he has ceased to dream a long time ago. To rescue his body at the very least … he had no more hopes of rescuing his soul.
And all of this is just by a holiday of sexual minorities.
How have you though it over … how predicted. Sexual minorities … oh, sure ! A real orgies will take place there, and not only those of minorities. And there have been no signs of any “contraceptive toolkit” for two years already after the publishing of resolution “Of the termination of distribution of contraceptives and preparations with purposes of increasing of birth rate in the country” of our oh-so-beloved president.
Still hoping to compensate natural losses, aye? Two percent of “dreamcatchers”, one percent of the military men, one percent of the "accidents", half percent of murders, the one third of percent of "unidentified deaths”, the one sixth of percent of those, who nevertheless has not managed to emigrate away from here … and this is not the full list by any means.
You will not recover that way – your disease has gone too far. You are too sick to become healthy once again. And those who understand cannot tell it anymore – for the global Mass Media Interactive Network is not for them anymore … never was for them. Only for the government, only for multinational corporations under their “giving hand”. And you could even participate in all this – take, for instance, that interactive sex-orgies that will be broadcasted on all channels “with a purpose of familiarizing of the population with sexual culture and stimulation of natural needs of men and women”.
What idiot has issued this resolution ?! … even its name is idiotic. Bless you, it surely must have been a big person – too big to “stimulate his natural needs” together with mad people crowds in the upcoming day …
Never forget a hand that feeds you … providers of Mass Media content did not forget.
A chip on the right hand has emitted a high-frequency sound impulse and has confirmed it with predefined sequence of IR-signals.
Damn ! This was dangerous ! This means that he has left the edge of his quadrant in today’s night patrol. This means that after ten minutes this very chip, built into his left hand, - and now also serving as universal biopassport, such a “smart-human-card” in a minitiature, - will send a series of radio signals in Liberty Security State Police Headquarters - his "native home" of sorts - only a series of radio signals which will be retranslated through the governmental stations. Informational stream, ciphered by the newest cryptographic invention SSC-51200, in which numerical postfix also designated length of a key...
Only a series of radio signals … and he will be up to the neck in problems. The internal security service disliked it very much, when its employees did not execute orders.
It was necessary to come back. He was not in time.
This means, that once again he has to writhe from pain, resisting his body’s desires, when video streaming will begin. This means, that once again he has to try to close his eyes – only to receive painful discharges from this damn multifunctional Security State Police Department VMSS helmet – having no possibility to remove it – because as soon as a signal with the information on the scanned retina of his eye will not be transmitted – he’s a criminal. This means that he should
die once again.
Almost like those dreamcatchers – almost with a blissful smile on his lips … almost happy.
“You’ve chosen the way.,-
And you’ve become prey.
Forgotten you have paradise,
And thus received thy hellish prize.
Yes, it was you who’ve rolled the dice…”
it seems, that such stanza of some newly born poet he has recently seen in still free part of the Net. It seems, the author called it “Appeal to the human”. And he is so damn right in something …
To look for him, maybe … a brother in arms by misfortune … the derelict of this world… Heck, to find … this one must have already joined the Underground Resistance Force – and thus became impossible to be found. For ten years his department was engaged in searches of these insurgents and fighters for “spiritual freedom” – and only their smallest and insignificant agents have been caught, and only one headquarter destroyed.
I am keeping fighting with my brothers, keeping struggling against them … and have no the slightest idea of how to stop it all … cannot stop it … not anymore.
Sometimes they made it. Sometimes they broke – miraculously - through all information covering – and broadcasted on the broadest possible range of frequencies – mainly speech and sometimes even video … for ten minutes only. Then they were blocked once again … however no one has ever found the true source of signals – not in his life.
Sometimes it was invocatory speech to see that already deformed nature of the majority of people, sometimes it was the statistics of human deaths during previous years – numbers and lines of texts, unfamiliar for those profane. Sometimes it was video records from places of military operations and speeches of how people have been drugged into this war by their government – for the sake of interests of the government itself and that cursed “hierarchical minority”. Sometimes it were such verses which he has found yesterday – by the divine will alone still being kept in the Net.
Sometimes … three-four times a year – no more and no less. And for all the rest time there were those Mass Media Interactive corporations.
There will be a holiday of sexual minorities tomorrow … in ten days after it – a holiday of military … there we will once again see heart-touching frames of how our brave soldiers defeat treacherous enemy and how he, this enemy, continue to retreat under their unstoppable pressure – has been retreating for five years already …
Then there will be a holiday of the man, and a holiday of the woman … the new woman and the new man. Then the day of overall scorn to those in the Underground – sort of official “phew” of the powerless government to the members of Underground Resistance Force. Then there will be a day of prostitutes – not that much different in its nature from the day of the woman … there will be so much.
So many holidays … so little joy. So much pleasure.
And once again all in a circle the next year.
But for now this was completely unimportant.
It was time to go back, he had at most about five minutes before the entry into a zone of the patrolled quadrant. The patrol has been completed … his home awaits.
He has turned his flycar, turned on autopilot mode. Now it will travel to LSSP base by itself, automatically regulating its height and evading counter streams of similar happy owners of this transport, and will land on one of free platforms on the base. Nothing more is required. The technics will do everything for you … almost everything.
Then he will make his report on the performed patrol – everything is normal, no suspicious activities have been revealed, no incidents have occurred. Everyone is happy and content … everything is just fine. A paradise on the earth in the borders of his patrolled quadrant … hellish paradise.
He has leant back on a seat and closed his eyes. He had to rest for a while.
A difficult day awaits him tomorrow.
We are
We are no longer the ones we used to be. Our past burned in the flame of self-rebirth, leaving the place for the Now, which has become a bridge to the Future.
Our path lies in the Eternity, and only we ourselves can pass it.
We all feel the breath of Universe inside us, and our hearts beat in rhytm with Hers.
We are both old and young - for each of us is like innocent child in spirit.
We foresee, not knowing for sure. We rejoice at the beginning of a new deed and feel sadness finishing what has been started. We love to transform believe into the trust. For without trust there can be no love.
We accept this world as we managed to make it. And it will never be in our right to blame someone other for human mistakes.
You may call us as you desire, for your mere words are unable to alter the essence.
No more we have names, yet each of us has kept his essensial "I".
We enter the battle in time and we know not fear.
Curses and blasphemes of the Sleepers are the stones that only strenghten our arms, holding the shield.
Wrath and hatred of theirs is the smoking fire. Yet the tears of the heaven will once extinguish it.
We live, fighting, yet the battle is not our final goal. For it is transient.
We are so different, but in this battle each of us is a warrior. And each holds his unique weapon.
Weapon of yours is able to destroy you whole, yet weapon of ours is greater.
It changes minds. It alters hearts. It transforms ones struck by it forever.
For this weapon is a weapon of spirit. Nothing in the world is comparable with it.
Our enemy is strong, for he is bodyless. That is why we are given this weapon.
We fight desperately for we know no death. The one given the Blade Of Spirit has already died before.
We knew not the timing, but were intended. We knew not ourselves, but were called for. The time will come - we'll be recognized. For great the battle is.
Rejected ones will join our ranks. Enlightened ones will join our ranks. The Newborn ones will join our ranks. For great the battle is.
The heavens cries at humankind's blindness, for even they have feelings. Yet there is always a dawn coming to replace the night.
The time is rushing forward desperately, changing the world in a single vortex. And we are at the forefront of it.
Always we are with you, for we do love this world.
So say We - warriors of the New Age.
Yet unfinished story of one spaceship
- Have you called for me, Coordinator ?
- Yes, Admiral, take a seat. Tea, coffee, an ambrosia ?
- I would not refuse an ambrosia … but, perhaps, somehow another time. Business is too urgent, as I understand ?
- And with no delays possible. The rates in this adventure of yours became too high.
- Mister Coordinator, I understand everything, but after all we ourselves have started this experiment together to …
- I have transferred this ship along with crew under your responsibility, Admiral, under your full responsibility – do you remember ? You have promised me that everything will be as smooth as possible.
- Their free will, which you have granted to them, has appeared to be much more unreasonable, than we assumed initially …
- You selected best ones, Admiral. Three planets in different sectors of the Galaxy for three new races. You have tried to discover pearls on these planets-prisons, Admiral, - and where are your best crew now? Sleeping peacefully in cryogenic capsules onboard of this spaceship which has almost strayed away from a trajectory?
- After the first Collision part of them have awakened, after all.
- I’ll let you know, Admiral, that after this very first Collision the communication system of the ship has been almost destroyed. Even the woken up crew are practically unable to perform two-way communication. We receive all their reports, while they hardly receive one-two percent of ours. Multiply this by two-three percent of those awakened. According to our calculations the probabi
lity that they will manage to correct a course of their vessel on coordinates, which we are trying to transfer to them, and avoid collision with the second Ring, is …
- I perfectly know this, mister Coordinator. I know it all. Current number of woken up crewmen of the space vessel does not allow us to rely on the successful ship-handling in a manual mode. And auto-navigation system has already been destroyed two thousand parsecs ago.
- What’s with other crew ? How successful were manual attempts to shutdown cryogenic systems ?
- Completely unsuccessful. After Collision electronics of ship’s systems has been seriously damaged. With manual shutdown the sleepers either die within several seconds, hardly able to realize what is happening with them, or get considerable spiritual-chemical brain damage.
To the People of Now [prose] Page 3
