Help

by Arturo F. Campo

  * * *

  They spared nothing from the list of disposables from Goopersh’s printouts. They jettisoned all redundant systems; almost all of the ship's cargo; most of their equipment and supplies; non-structural columns and beams down to their personal belongings. Except for designated areas, they removed the ship’s furnishing, partitioning walls, stairs, floorings, leaving but catwalks and ladders, if any. It was not an arduous task to remove the rigid structures as it could be configured to revert back to its original state, liquid, they called ‘Magic Liquid.’ This liquid was expelled out of the ship but kept some for future use as it could be programmed to become physical objects---furnishings, machines of intricate design, and sophisticated electronic devices without Rian intervention. But it had limitations---it must be attached to the ship’s structure and consumes energy to retain its form but not when it was in its liquid state. The entire ship was mostly made of this versatile substance that, if the power source was interrupted for a second, the whole ship would literally melt like butter and explode. It was the thousands of crates and boxes the ship had that took time to move out of the ship though weightlessness in outer space helped.

  At the disposable list’s end, the trolleys, less its batteries, their tools were all in the disposal bay. For themselves, they had only what they wore without shoes as it was heavy when its functions were turned off.

 

  Stripping the ship was daunting but was accomplished at the brink of their collapsing from exhaustion and hunger. The ship was exclusively meant to ferry the Colonizing Module that it had no kitchen nor did it store any food. The only sustenance they had came from the snack boxes packed within the thirty-four airships parked at its cargo hold. There was enough there to last them a week and rationed it.

  When disposing was done and it was time to go in hibernation, Amo Obib and Ningning assisted individuals to their hibernating capsule bidding each, “Naska is Imar.”

  On Ningning's turn, Amo Obib guided her in her capsule as she moved backward.

  On intuition, Ningning said, “Do not stay longer than you should my husband,” ending it with a quint smile.

  Amo Obib was taken aback. He did not tell her his plan to stay behind. He did not respond, instead kissed her forehead and smiled back. “I am fortunate to have you as my wife,” he said beaming at her.

  “Not as fortunate as I am,” she coyly replied with a smile, her eyes on his. “Naska is Imar,” she bade.

  “Naska is Imar,” he returned as he stepped back. Mesmerized by her smile, he looked at her through the transparent hibernator’s door as it slid closed. He noticed her eyelids flattered on an induced sleep state. When her eyes finally closed, she still wore the sweet smile on her face.

  Inevitable Conclusion

  Except for the lined hibernating capsules on the side walls and the command chair, the Command Center was bare. With no ship command to execute, Amo Obib sat on the cold floor by a wall and leaned on it. As he organized his thoughts, Goopersh cautioned, “My instruction includes turning off the ventilation and lighting systems. Please enter the hibernating capsule.”

  “Goopersh, turn off both. Advise me when the breathable air in the room becomes low.”

  “I will warn,” then the ceiling light turned off and the air from the ventilation ducts ceased to flow. Only the soft glow from the hibernators dimly lit the room.

 

  As their spiritual leader and head of their community, their lives and those in the Colonizing Module, their civilization’s future was in his hands and weighed heavily in his mind. He never had the chance to be alone and needed time to assess their situation---to know equally, if not better, as his decision was final, it must be right the first time. “Goopersh, please display planet data . . .,” then engaged Goopersh in a dialogue on the planet's atmospheric and geological makeup. He was meticulous in his questions---he must not make a wrong decision. Too much was at stake.

  Exhausting the subjects, he leaned his head on his hands with his elbows resting on bent knees and focused on things he might have missed.

  Amo Obib

  Amo Obib, whose layman's name was Obib Opmak, was a child prodigy. His interest in biology as a boy led him to pursue Biochemistry and Genetic Engineering graduating with highest honors. With restrictive church laws on genetic research, he could not broaden his knowledge in the field. Young and restless, he crusaded for the liberalization of educational policies on Genetic Engineering and on the revocation of the space exploration ban as he did not appreciate the Rian State Policy of isolation from the universe around them. For fear of detection from malevolent intelligent beings beyond their solar system, they ringed their planet with satellites that rendered it physically and electronically invisible. He vehemently contended: theoretical understanding of the physical world was insufficient. He fervently believed the exploration of the universe for the good of other civilizations a worthy Rian endeavor. He sent countless request letters to the Council of Elders for an audience. They acknowledged receipts of the letters, nothing else.

  He rallied the university students, especially those in the scientific field. Most concurred to his proposals but ignored his plan for a mass petition. Oddly, Rians relied on the church to decide on issues that affected their community. They believed: state laws and policies must be set forth to benefit the whole, a determination left to the Council of Elders to research, discuss, ruminate, and recommend for the amo’s approval. They have no reasons to complain. Rian was a society of free and happy people solely from the guidance of their church who looked upon their well-being with unquestionable devotion. However, Obib was no average Rian. He was a young scientist eager to explore and venture into the unknown. With laws that set limits to his quest for knowledge, he felt his mind choked and imprisoned.

  A year later, the Elders offered him a job as the first Administrator of Rian Student Affairs. This puzzled him. He knew his unorthodox approach to initiate change displeased the Elders. Handing out leaflets and holding public meetings to question state policies were unheard of. Yet the Elders never talked him out nor restrained him from his activities. Permits to hold public meetings came easier than normal. It puzzled him more when he was offered a sensitive position, Student Affairs Administrator, that brought him closer to the people he was swaying to his views. He accepted the offer. It was a step forward even if it was a ploy, for whatever reason, to divert or redirect his attention.

  As Administrator, he saw the problem related to the students’ wellbeing. Rians understood their physical sciences so well that there were little things for the young minds to exploit. The advent of the Atomic Converter, three decades earlier, made it worse. The Atomic Converter epitomized Rian's mastery over atomic science. It was a humongous machine that broke an atom into its subatomic components and created another of their design. The atomic converters opened new scientific frontiers and more promises to their technology but it had drawbacks . . . it oversimplified it. It rendered more technologies and job skills obsolete than it created. Much like the Age of Automation spawned by the computer era, six hundred years earlier, reenacted again. But his time, its impact was felt a hundred-fold. As a result, the creative mind stagnated and Rian youth got the brunt of it. Obib addressed the problem through projects involving university students to solve theoretical problems and scenarios, and a panel of experts to judge its viability. It kept the young minds occupied but that was how far it went, theoretical.

  He never gave up his campaign for liberalized educational policies on Genetic Engineering and space exploration completely. It was a smoldering fire within. He knew the Elders abhorred the idea that allowed young people to exploit banned scientific subjects even if it were purely theoretical. Nevertheless, the Elders never pointed out their dissatisfaction and supported his projects without question. He wondered what the Elders' reasons were but since his activities were unopposed and unrestricted, he did not care. He had one consolation, eventually, the Elders must listen.
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  “Breathable air at 60%,” warned Goopersh.

  The warning got Amo Obib’s attention. With head leaning on his seated position on the floor, he saw the triangular medallion dangle from his neck. It was the symbol of his supreme authority as the amo, head of their church and state. He held it with reverence; felt its weight; its coldness; and realized he was not dreaming. ‘Was I destined for this?’ the question flashed in his mind and brought him back in time when Ria's Governor, the highest state position appointed by the amo, died. The State was open for applicants to the vacant post. Anyone with ambition could apply as there was neither restriction nor limitation.

  To be Ria's Governor was far from Obib's mind. He loved his job and leaving it was out of the question. But the Elders had denied him audience on the merits of his crusades for so long he felt desperate. Applying for the Governor’s position gave him a chance to air his views directly to the amo---a personal audition was part of the selecting process. He would withdraw his application after was his plan.

  He remembered the interview day vividly when, as a layman, he headed for the walled city of the church for his scheduled audience with Ria's amo, then, Amo Tasiyo. He recalled the unguarded gate to the city; of feeling proud and fortunate---the church rarely gave the privilege for layman to enter the church’s city. It was Amo Tasiyo's poor health that his last interview was to take place at his cottage rather than at the large hall by the wall, the wall that separated the church’s city from the outside world. Upon entering the city of the church, he noticed the sharp contrast in lifestyle. He knew life within the city followed the old ways but being there still shocked him. It seemed the walls that separated the city to metropolitan Atlantis, a time barrier. Crossing brought one back to the Bronze Age.

  He walked on cobbled streets and sidewalks lined with fern trees and flowered plants. Small perpendicular alleys led to small quaint cottages with brick walls and straw roofs. Men in tunic and women in robe smiled and greeted as he passed. At the street's end, was the sacred well---a well built by the hands of their first amo at God's command. Touching its surrounding stone-wall brought old memories of wanting priesthood. A sense of inner peace and an uncomplicated way of life overwhelmed him.

  Beyond the sacred well was the amo's cottage. Except for the arrangement of the flowering plants and fern trees, the cottage was no different from the rest, in width and depth, but was the only one with a second floor. Being Ria's Absolute Ruler, he expected something grander but equally modest.

  Finding himself early, he sat on a bench under a fern tree facing a small well-tended flowered garden. As he settled, he started to appreciate the beautiful flowers around and the serenity of the place. His inner drive to assert oneself slowly faded. He marveled at the electronic ceiling overhead, it covered the entire metropolis, an area spanning hundreds of square miles, and the simulated weather within. The clime was always right---the breeze, cool and pleasant. With their advancement in technology, it was only a matter of time when they can simulate their sun and clouds - a perfect climate to replace their often-muggy weather and overcast sky. Minutes later, the cottage door opened and an old woman in plain white robe beckoned him to come. The woman introduced herself as Medi, Amo Tasiyo's wife, though he knew. They allowed amos to have a wife that the Elders chose but barred them from having children.

  'Medi looked different in plain white robe against the formal attire she dons at rare public occasions with her husband’, Obib thought. They held them at the only thing that protruded out of the city’s surrounding high-stone-wall---a wide ceremonial balcony faced Atlantis as the Amo and his wife never left their city. It was part of their vow.

  Obib knew church clergies lived Spartan lives and took notice of the room that was austerely furnished. They crossed a small but immaculately clean living room. The dining table and kitchen were but a few steps away. They went up a narrow wooden stair to the bedroom. After two light knocks, she opened the door and they entered.

  The room was small. Two wooden cots were on opposite sides of the room. A small table stood by its side. On the plastered adobe wall, directly above each cot, was a triangular shaped granite pendant with an eye delicately curved within, the symbol of their one God. Adjacent to the door was the closet and, fronting it, a narrow veranda that overlooked a picturesque country scene of well-arranged straw roofed cottages against a wide-open valley dotted by fern trees, flowered plants, and a beautiful lake yonder.

  Amo Tasiyo, in plain white robe, stood out of his chair wobbling from the weight of his aged and frail body. His arms stretched in an embracing gesture.

  Obib quickly moved to embrace and support as well.

  “Naska is Imar,” Amo Tasiyo said in an old man's coarse and quivering voice as they hugged and rubbed each other’s back as they did.

  Obib greeted back, “Naska is Imar.” As they embraced, he felt Amo Tasiyo's arm bones pressed against his back. At 193 years of age, the amo had outlived a generation and was going for his second. However, Obib had reservations. He sensed the very old amo's life journey neared its end. From the side, he saw Medi wiped tears from her eyes as she smiled at him. ‘Why the tears?’ he asked himself.

  “Let me have a good look at you,” Amo Tasiyo said as they parted embrace. He looked at him from head to foot and even asked him to turn. He looked at him as a father would a son he had not seen for years. “Walk me to the veranda chair, my son,” he instructed as he placed his right hand on Obib's shoulder for support.

  In a soft elderly voice, Medi cautioned, “You are not supposed to do that. This has been a long day for you.” Her concern was both audible and visible.

  “It's only fifteen feet and a little exercise will not hurt,” he argued nicely, determined to have his way. “Join us,” he added as he walked slowly with Obib's help, “But first, get help to have someone bring us something to drink. I know you . . . you will get it yourself. You're not as young as you think yourself to be.”

  “I can manage,” she argued as she looked at him. “Don't think of me, think of yourself.” Medi went her way without arguing over Amo Tasiyo's walking nor did the amo argue over her fetching the drinks. Time had tempered both to know how far each can go.

  With Obib's help, Amo Tasiyo sat on the veranda’s patio armchair. From his vantage, he could see the vegetable and flowered garden of an adjacent cottage a stone throw way. With his hand, he weakly gestured Obib to sit. “I understand you tried to join the church community,” he said casually, smiling.

  “Yes,” Obib replied then took the nearby wooden stool, placed it near and in front of amo Tasiyo's chair, and sat. Accustomed to cushioned chairs, the seat was hard on his rear. He adjusted a little for comfort as he glanced at the amo’s chair. It was made no different from his and wondered how the amo managed to be comfortable sitting on them. “I failed the interview,” he sounded disappointed. “I was too attached to the material world to be prepared to serve God, they reasoned.” He paused. “There are so many things I wish to understand,” and like an echo of an afterthought, he repeated, “so many things.” Obib paused again as he organized his thoughts then said, “In time, maybe.”

  Amo Tasiyo remained silent as he observed him in a smiling way.

  Obib continued, “Deep within, I still seek the peace and simple life within the Walls. A longing I thought I had forgotten until today. It is so peaceful . . . so uncomplicated.”

  “Serving God is no way near simple nor uncomplicated yet easy if you are at peace with yourself.” Amo Tasiyo looked straight at Obib's eyes as though he was looking in him. “Do you love Ria?” he asked.

  The question was unexpected. Obib found it simple, philosophical, yet complex to answer. He pondered for a moment. “I love God,” he answered.

  Amo Obib smiled. “I understand,” he said as he grinned with his eyes fixed on Obib's. He leaned forward and placed both hands over Obib's hands that rested on Obib’s lap and asked, “Are you still considering joining t
he church community?”

  Obib was astonished the amo knew he applied as a clergy and had no ready answer to his question. Since the amo showed no signs of rushing, he seriously examined himself. “The thought has not left me completely. Maybe, someday, when I find myself and be worthy to join.”

  “Finding oneself does not come easy. You force it on yourself as you ask hard questions of yourself. Would you give up everything to serve God?”

  “I will,” Obib answered without hesitation. His heart throbbed.

  Amo Tasiyo took a moment to observe Obib's reaction. He moved his hands from Obib's hands to Obib’s shoulders and said somewhat in a whisper, “If I ask you to join the church and serve Him for the rest of your life, will you?”

  “I will,” Obib instinctively replied eagerly.

  Pleased with the answer, Amo Tasiyo smiled then slowly leaned back as he took full advantage of the chair’s back support taking deep breathes as he did.

  Obib looked at amo with a hope he would invite. It was not a hard decision to make as he considered it often and more seriously as time passed. He eagerly waited for a reply.

  Amo Tasiyo placed his hands back on his lap and looked at his neighbor’s backyard. “Isn't it wonderful to watch the plants grow and see its flower bloom? I hear you have a beautiful garden,” he asked as he gazed at the lovely flowered backyards of his neighbors.

  Their conversation continued but no invitation to join the church came to Obib's dismay. Neither opened the official purpose of the visit. Nor did Obib hinted to discuss the liberalization of genetic research policies he so wanted changed and zealously pursued for years. No sooner, Medi returned. She brought their drinks and set them on the small circular side table. Obib motioned to help but Medi waved him off. After serving, she got a stool and positioned it close to Amo Tasiyo's armchair; sat; then held lovingly the amo’s left hand.

  Medi enjoyed listening to Obib and Amo Tasiyo’s light conversation and stayed silent most of the time. Her joy was maybe not for herself but for Amo Tasiyo who was vibrant and visibly interested on what Obib had to say, but also, for his hearty laughter she rarely heard or saw.

  Obib was with them for more than an hour. The conversation revolved on his childhood, family, school years, and interests. Obib did most of the talking as he responded to Amo Tasiyo's short questions that somehow required a lengthy answer. He thought it good as the amo was weaker than the facade he wanted to show.

  Amo Tasiyo's special interest in Obib started when he heard of an exceptionally bright young boy. Surrounded by adults most of his life, he was strangely drawn to him. He kept track of Obib's progress as though Obib was his beloved son but not as secretly as he thought. Medi knew what he did in secret as behind the room’s closet was an album. In it, were newspaper clippings on Obib from age five; the letters he sent to the Elders; and a copy of all the leaflets and pamphlets he distributed.

  Obib could have opened the official purpose of the visit and his crusade but argued against it. He felt at peace. The subjects were light and pleasant. With Medi seated beside amo and her hand on his, to discuss sensitive issues in such place and time was farfetched.

  “It is getting late,” Amo Tasiyo said. “Do you have anything to ask?” he asked, looking intently at Obib’s eyes.

  “No, My Amo,” Obib, with honesty, replied.

  The amo was amused as he grinned at him. “Are you very, very sure?” He stressed each word beaming as he did.

  “I am,” Obib confidently replied.

  “Then my son,” he said with a grin, “Naska is Imar,” and their meeting ended.

  Obib concluded the Elders intentionally made Amo Tasiyo unaware of his crusade. The amo was much too old to strain over sensitive and controversial issues. He finally laid the question that baffled him for years to rest . . . the Elders were protecting Amo Tasiyo. He was wrong! When Obib started his public campaign for liberal educational policies on Genetic Engineering six years earlier, the Elders recommended to amo to act and bring back Obib to the ways of a true Rian. On that request, amo asked a rhetorical question, “What is a true Rian? . . . I understand your apprehensions. We are not accustomed to his ways. He is young and has a lot to learn and us of him. I see him as a seed never seen before. I do not know how it will grow or the fruit it will bear. Let time nurture him. Let frustrations temper him to strength. We will wait patiently and see the fruit that God has given us. Surely, his talent comes from God and must have a purpose.” He then commanded, “We will not interfere nor impose restrictions. We will secretly and indirectly help so he will be closer to the people he wishes to represent but keep me informed.”

  It was Amo Tasiyo's idea to create the Student Affairs Administrator position and for Obib to head it. He instructed the Elders to keep this a secret and never give Obib an Elder Council's audience.

  Months later, Obib reapplied for priesthood and was accepted.

  Goopersh interrupted again, “Breathable air level low. Please enter hibernating capsule.”

  Amo Obib heeded and entered his capsule. As he pressed the ‘hibernate button’ prayed, ‘Dear God, please help us and help me,’ then fell into deep, deep sleep.

  PLANET EARTH

  The Year 2.3 million BC – Earth time

 

  The pyramid spaceship had flown on its inertia for over a thousand and two-hundred years when it hit the fringe of Earth’s atmosphere. At precise intervals and directions, Goopersh launched survey satellites at geo-synchronized orbits that covered the entire planet. Awakened from hibernation, the Rians boarded the cargo-cramped airships, left the ship, and trailed behind merely to reduce the load on the ship and save on the little fuel it had.

  The pyramid ship's base faced the direction of its motion tailed behind by thirty-four airships. It orbited Earth one-hundred-sixty-two times using Earth’s atmosphere as brake. After thousands of years of silence, the ship’s propulsion engine came on. The ship glided through the air with a soft pulsating hum. Minutes later, it landed a few miles from a large lake (known today as Lake Victoria) at the heart of the African Continent, three hours before sunrise, 2.3 million BC---Earthman's time.

  Planet Earth

  Earth, 2.3 million years ago, was no different from what it is today except there were no intelligent beings. It was a vibrant greenhouse of forest and jungles laced with pristine rivers and lakes. With some variations, the animals---the elephants, the giraffes, the hyenas, lions looked much the same or similar with some larger and others smaller than what they are today.

  As programmed, satellites launched from the pyramid ship, surveyed the planet and sent streams of electronic data into Goopersh's central processing unit where it was processed, catalogued, stored, and the sending unit turned off. Minutes later, thirty-two airships rejoined the ship. Two remained outside on separate missions---get initial biological samples and, more importantly, food.