The Seeker

by Kingsley L Dennis

  Many humans upon the Earth began to wish for the eschaton, without fully realizing what it meant. Only that it gave them a direction for their lost gaze. Its immanence became the new human dream to replace colonization of space. Yet it had to happen first upon the Earth.

  Immanentize the eschaton was uttered on peoples’ lips constantly as a mantra for the new life that emerged after the Great Turning.

  FOURTEEN

  Zachary had just finished making sure Johan was sleeping. He returned to the main room where Rebekah was seated. He recognized the look on her face. They knew it would be difficult to bring a new child into such a world. A world that for them was no more; a world that had ended. They had considered aborting the pregnancy, to save the child from such a pain. Finally, they realized that it was only their pain. A new child entering the world would not know any different. It would be their world from day one. For such a child, there would be reason to hope. For Zachary and Rebekah it also gave them renewed reason for hope. And so Johan was greeted with a joy only first-time parents can know.

  ‘What do you think?’ Rebekah’s voice was quiet.

  ‘It hurts me to think of it,’ replied Zachary as he sat down on the wooden bench.

  Rebekah looked over at him, a sorrow in her eyes. ‘We agreed it would not be for us, but for him. We have to think of his world now, not ours.’

  Zachary nodded his head with a slow and slight movement. ‘I know. But can we be sure we can trust in him, the Seeker?’

  ‘We will need more time for that. Yet I have a good feeling about him.’

  Zachary placed his head in his hands and rubbed at his face. He was growing old, and he knew it. Each day he felt things were tugging at his vitality, wearing him down. He breathed out deeply. ‘What a world…what a world.’

  FIFTEEN

  Winter would soon be coming to Spring, and Bryleigh knew he needed the settlement to be secure. Security not only from mercenary humans, individuals and groups who roamed as packs outside of settlements, but also from the wild animals that foraged. Settlements like Spring were the islands of order within hinterlands of savagery. The countryside had become a haven for sanctuary after the Great Turning as the cities, the modern world’s cosmopolitan centres, fell into anarchic chaos. Only the very rich, and thus the well-guarded, could survive the eruption of urban insanity. The rest of the city-dwellers either fled or fought – the fight or flight response in its basic light. Without the luxury of a civilized framework and the conditioned restraint of social roles, human nature relapsed into base survival mode. It wasn’t pretty.

  Those who retained some hope retreated into rural zones where they believed they would fare better. They formed collectives, shared their skills, and elected roles to restore once more some resemblance of order into human lives. Some of the larger country estates were taken over – a re-commissioning they called it – or were offered by the occupants in return for a new order of security. Resilience and revolt reigned in almost equal balanced measure in the early years after the Great Turning. Those individuals who took off alone were either the fiercest of the lot, or the first to die off.

  Spring was not alone. It existed within a cluster of settlements all within a day’s horse ride away. Humans were once again forced into lives of husbandry. Spring was one of the luckier ones as it was based on fertile open land above a plentiful water table. A copse provided shelter in one corner of Spring, and scattered trees etched the lines of a natural perimeter upon which a high wooden fence was established. It was better that Spring was not bordered by a forest or wood, as this would shelter too the approach of unwanted visitors. Just before the copse lay the gash of the natural spring whose flowing water gave the settlement its name. A deep well had been dug down into the soil to tap into the water like a dry throat into the thirst-quenching earth. The surrounding fields beyond the copse were deemed as being within Spring’s territory, though the fences did not stretch that far out.

  ‘I’ve known about this weak spot for a while,’ said Bryleigh as he hammered at a joining in the wooden fence. Jacob knelt down to hold the new plank in place whilst Bryleigh located the nail.

  ‘Is it secure enough?’

  Bryleigh looked back at Jacob. ‘Do you mean this part of the fence, or of Spring?’

  Jacob shrugged. ‘Both, I guess.’

  ‘What we have here is always far from enough.’ Bryleigh let out a low laugh, as if he was trying to make light of the fact. ‘Where there’s hope, there’s a way. And that’s all we have now, a measure of determined hope. We can protect Spring well enough, but the fields beyond are always gonna be vulnerable.’

  ‘And not enough fence for all?’

  Bryleigh smiled at Jacob. ‘Yep, not enough fence for all. Why don’t you come and eat with us? I’ll introduce you to my wife.

  Jacob nodded. ‘Immanentize the eschaton,’ he said quietly.

  Bryleigh whispered something inaudibly under his breath and then returned to the hammering.

  16

  Having entered Nous-City, no one was ever permitted to leave. Once inside the mighty dome edifice, it became the place of your life. Its outer shell looked from a distance like a huge shimmering geodesic dome. Yet from the outside no observer could view the other side, and therefore could not be sure if it was a true dome. All that could be known about its presence was that it appeared as a dome on approach, and appeared completely enclosed as if domed from within. The rest of Nous-City was simple complexity.

  At the innermost core of Nous-City was the Central Dome, the heart and hub of its functioning. Coiled around it like a protecting, insulating layer, were a ring of complexes that comprised the Circle Zone. This zone formed the cerebral centre of Nous-City, from which the whole running of the city was organized. Here also was where the preparation program took place, amidst its many isolated meditation cells. Only those individuals who had proved themselves ready and prepared were permitted access to the Circle Zone. The pilgrimage for the Seekers was only the very first step along the way; and a step that no Seeker could turn away from despite not knowing this. Volition was never given to the Seekers.

  The next wave of complexes, the middle coil, was known as the Triangle Zone, or the blue area. This was the technical heart of Nous-City. It was here where the technicians were housed, and was the nexus for innovation, research, and development. Finally, the outer layer was the Square Zone - the green area - which took care of all maintenance including city infrastructure and services. It was also in the Square Zone where all new arrivals first entered. And it was where they stayed until assimilated into their chosen position according to capacity and function. Yet the true centre of Nous-City was the Central Dome. From here Zuse-1 took organizational control of the city. The Central Dome may be recognized as the beating heart of the city, yet its own heart lay within itself – in the Dome of Command.

  Only Zuse-1 was permitted within the Dome of Command. Nothing was left to chance. Nous-City had been very carefully conceived; by a mind with immense capacity.

  SEVENTEEN

  Several people were seated on the rows of wooden benches laid out under the high ceiling of the hall. There were quiet murmurings, whispers, a few utterances between people as they settled into their places. An intangible ambience of ceremony filled the room that seemed to bleed between the benches. Smiles were soon swapped for solemn faces. The room and its mix of people could have been anywhere, in almost any land, in the old times before the Great Turning. Now it was in Spring, with its purpose of contagious belief in hope. And where there were people gathered together in communion, there would be the threads of hope.

  All the people stood as Eli entered the main hall. His lean figure cut like a fin as he came down the centre, splitting the people into two sides. There was expectation as he mounted the raised stage and turned to face the gathered group. A thin smile spread up from his lips as he gave them a look of dry compassion.

  Eli raised his arms.

  ‘Beloved fr
iends, be seated.’

  He then waited until once more silence fell within his power.

  ‘We are here to renew our hope. A hope that we know exists not in moving forward - not in ideals of progress - but rather in the way of rejuvenation. It was the cult of progress that brought the calamity of the Great Turning upon us. We lived in a world that fed our egos and nurtured our greed. We pushed and fought our way forward through competition, conquest, and cowardice. In the delusion of our greatness we were the opposite of giants; we were the pygmies of shame.’

  Eli paused, as if attempting some homemade dramatic effect. There were some ruffling from the audience; a lone cough.

  ‘Yes, my friends. Our shame stems from the height of our dishonesty – the only real suffering and pain is in genuine sincerity. We got lost in our cries, in our wilderness, and forsook the better path. We lived our lives as feckless fish in a suffocating fishbowl. Our ineffectual lives were lived without sticking our noses out of the water for air. So we kept swimming around and around in the same septic water. We swam in our own contagion until we could go no further without hitting the end. And so we came to the end of things. Now, finally, we can learn to swim and breathe in fresh, new, and clean water. Our world is not a fishbowl anymore. It’s nowhere near perfect, I know that…believe me, I know it – but it’s the stream that now carries us beyond, and into the new life.’

  A few yeahs bubbled up from the mouths of those present. That’s what they wanted to hear, and Eli knew it. They wanted to know about the new life.

  ‘I am a man among others,’ continued Eli, feeding off from the captive audience. ‘That is all. I am only incarnate; incarnate with a little bit of truth, a little bit of love. There will be no eschaton coming down from an unknown above. There will be no eschaton coming in from some mythical metropolis, some fantasy Nous-City. It is here where the regeneration starts. It starts with us, with our children…with our protective love. We are the re-builders, and the time has come around again. It has come around again, come around again!’

  Come around again, come around again

  The congregation chanted as Eli pointed to the circular emblem on the back wall.

  The men folk, mostly of middle age and older, pounded their fists in the vacuous air as the words left their mouths. Some of the younger women shared quick, furtive glances. They also shared another knowing, of a different taste, that lingered long and bitter in their mouths.

  EIGHTEEN

  Johan was happy to greet Jacob back at their dwelling. Rebekah had prepared some evening food for all of them. Zachary was already inside, tired from a day of meetings and talks. Although he had agreed to be the elected mayor, or head decision maker, for Spring, it had not been an easy choice for him. Zachary naturally did not seek conflict, and did his best to avoid it at all costs. That, Rebekah kept reminding him, was exactly why the people had elected him. Yet the years of constant negotiation and decision making had weakened Zachary physically. He suspected that his hair was greyer for it too, and that his true years were well behind that of his body. And yet Rebekah had only loved him more for his service, and ignored his body’s weaknesses when they showed up against her own. Her other blessing was Johan. Her young son was her faith in a world gone wrong. She gave each of her days gladly in loving him, and caring for his needs. That was why the future tore a hole in her heart.

  Jacob walked past the dinner table where he noticed that three plates were set. He was eager to wash himself after the day spent outside.

  ‘It feels strange that you don’t eat with us, Seeker. We feel we are not fulfilling our duties as a good host.’

  Jacob noticed that Zachary’s face looked frail under the flickering lamplight.

  ‘You have been gracious hosts to me. I have been fortunate. Yet you know I eat little, and eat nothing in the evenings.’ Jacob tried to give a gentle smile so as to reassure his hosts.

  Rebekah came over to the table with a drying cloth in her hands. ‘You eat so little, it’s a wonder you are able to maintain strength in your body.’ She looked directly at Jacob; a look that Jacob knew was neither suspicious nor judgemental. Zachary gave his wife a quick, guarded glance.

  ‘The body gets used to it,’ was all Jacob said.

  ‘I want to be disciplined too, like you,’ said Johan as he sat at the table ready to eat. ‘But right now I’m hungry.’

  Rebekah laughed and ruffled her son’s hair.

  ‘I also want to learn more about the world out there. It’s always the same here. I mean, it’s good, it’s okay and like, but I need more. And it’s not just me either. It’s the rest of us – we all want the same.’

  Zachary looked a little surprised. ‘What do you mean, Johan? What is it you want, and who’s we?’

  ‘It’s some of us. You all treat us like children but we’re not just children, y’know.’

  Rebekah put her hand on Johan’s shoulder. ‘I know, dear. You’re all growing up so fast. And you need to learn things, things which perhaps we can’t provide for you here. We do realize this, believe me.’

  ‘And the others, too?’ asked Zachary.

  Johan nodded. ‘There’s a bunch of us. We share our thoughts. We all think similar, and differently too. It’s cool when we talk…much better than class.’

  ‘And where do you talk? Is it regularly, son?’

  Johan looked up at his father, who nodded approvingly for him to continue. ‘Yeah, regularly, I guess. Mostly we talk in the yard, when we’re out together.’

  ‘And, you talk about what?’

  ‘Lots of things. But mostly about how to make everything better. We have lots of ideas. They just seem to come to us. We’ve got to get this world right again, haven’t we?’

  Zachary nodded his head and gave his son a wink. ‘Sure we have. And I have no doubt you kids are the ones to do it.’

  ‘We want the Seeker to come and talk to us. We’ve already discussed it and it’s been agreed. Is that okay with you?’

  Johan looked back at Jacob who until now had remained silent.

  Jacob looked across at both Zachary and Rebekah. A breath of expectancy hung in the air for a brief moment, before being absorbed. Something new had just been added to an equation, a process, which Jacob could feel within but could not formulate or pin down. A new tangible had been added; a new thread upon an assembling tapestry.

  NINETEEN

  It was late, and the burning beacons around Spring lit up like flaming spectres. Armed guards in the perimeter towers were replaced by those who had arrived for the night shift. The men joked, calling it the graveyard shift. Nobody wanted it, especially not now that the autumn chill had begun to creep in. Yet they didn’t have a choice, and each person knew it. When the rotation shift came to you, you accepted it for that too would pass. Each night a handful of young men would be seen lingering, joking, or arguing, before the night curfew drew a curtain over the day. Sometimes fights broke out between rival youths, or between those who belonged to families tied in dispute. There always seemed to be an edge: someone was on it, near it, or it was endemic throughout Spring. Each person in the settlement knew there was an edge, and that each of them was, or would be, close to it.

  Three evenly spaced taps rapped at the door. When she answered it she saw Eli standing there. Sorrel was not expecting an evening visit from Eli; less so during the hours of curfew.

  ‘May I come in?’ Eli’s tall, lean figure cut a curt shadow against the outer door as a flaming beacon burned from behind.

  Sorrel hesitated. ‘But isn’t it curfew…should you be out here at this hour?’ Her pale complexion shone dimly in the arc of candlelight from inside her home.

  Eli replied without pause. ‘I administer to people’s well-being. I am a servant to faith, and a doctor of the soul. It is my business to be about at all hours. It is part of my ministry.’

  Sorrel opened the door wider and signalled for Eli to pass. She motioned for him to take a seat at the table where she would join him.<
br />
  ‘We must be quiet,’ she said in a low voice. ‘Jana is sleeping and I don’t want to wake her.’

  Eli smiled. ‘Of course, such a beautiful child. How old is she now?’

  ‘About the same age she was when you last asked me, in congregation recently.’ Sorrel paused.

  Eli remained smiling, yet gave no response or hint that he would speak.

  ‘Nine years, and a bit some.’

  Eli nodded and tapped his fingers lightly upon the table. ‘It’s been many years now. Jana is growing up fast, and you’ve been without a man for more years than that. I’ve told you before, the world needs hope. And hope comes from our children. To not bring more children unto us is selfish. You have a young body still, Sorrel, and yet you leave it barren.’ Eli tried to reach across to touch her hand but Sorrel withdrew it.

  ‘There’s nothing barren about me, Eli, except perhaps my lack of humour at times like this. So, what? You’ve come here to impregnate me out of charity?’

  Eli winced, as if taken aback by the insult. Both of them knew it was a fake gesture. ‘Don’t be so crude, Sorrel, it’s beneath you. We both know I can provide you with so much, here in Spring. I wish to help you. I wish to help this world. And together we can achieve both. In these times, Sorrel, you must play your part.’

  ‘Is that what you’re doing – just playing a part?’

  ‘Many people here in Spring play false roles; something you well know. And they speak behind your back too. I can’t protect you all the time if you keep me at a distance. Sorrel, you know I’m right.’

  ‘I don’t need protecting. Not from you or anyone.’

  ‘Don’t be naïve, Sorrel.’

  ‘I’m not naïve. I’m protecting my own interests.’ Sorrel looked away, as if not wishing any more of the conversation.