Chapter 3.
The Diplomats
From “Stellar Graffiti”, Copyright 2001 Richard Allan Olson
For the center of their village, Luna’s tribe had chosen a
long peninsula of the mainland, which was adjacent to a few other small islands.
In the trees, they’d built a multi-leveled maze of tree houses, walkways,
and bridges that weaved across the water from the peninsula to the other
islands. Upon the water floated a network of docks connecting boat
slips. Ropes and ladders ascended into the upper levels of the village.
Their smaller buildings were of study wood, but on land, they did construct
larger structures out of stone. These were either for civic purposes,
or merely to serve as monuments to the Creator. Clearly, much of their
design in architecture was influenced by what they saw when they looked up
at the castle in their sky. It was only natural the Archians would
try, if crudely, to mimic the handiwork of its unknown creator.
The Council chamber was quite a sophisticated piece of workmanship,
for these little primates. It had a long, prestigious stairway adorned
with sculptures and archways, all made out of black stone trimmed with gold.
By noon on this particular day a tropical storm had broken
loose, and sheets of falling rain swept across the village. On
schedule, a group of four, tall, green, somber figures, arrived at the stairs
of the Council chamber in the downpour. No one else watched as
they solemnly marched up the steps. As the Saurian captain, Finn, and
his three officers arrived at the main door, Finn decided to let himself in,
rather than knocking. It was such an ordeal, anyway, squeezing through
a doorway made for a creature a third his height. He knew this from
past experience. He also knew that, once inside, and just down the
main corridor, the ceiling became high enough to allow he and his men
to stand upright. And today, Finn wasn’t much in the mood for ceremony.
As the foursome made their way, hunched over, down the hallway, a pair of
Archian councilmen came from around a corner and gasped.
“I say,” exclaimed one of them, “have you no respect for ceremony?”
“Yes,” the other said, “and unless one of YOU is Captain Finn
himself…”
“It’s alright”, said the Saurian leader. “I am Finn.
And I apologize for not knocking, but I have some very important matters
that I need to present to the Council.”
The demeanor of the two monkeys changed into curiosity very
quickly. “Very important matters, you say?”
“Word from the Creator, perhaps?”
“I’ll answer your questions, but please…” He made a
motion to indicate the discomfort of he and his men, in their bent over
positions.
“Ah, of course!” said one of the councilmen. “I do apologize.
Please, come with us!” The two councilmen led Finn and his officers
to the main Council chamber, which was a rather long room which a relatively
high ceiling. Here, the Saurians were able to stand up straight.
There were about two dozen Archians scattered about the chamber in pairs
and small groups, chattering amongst themselves. As the congregation
became aware of the presence of the Saurian foursome, the idle gossip abruptly
stopped, and the councilmen all scurried off to assume their positions at
a long table at the far end of the chamber. The room quickly became
silent, except for the clearing of throats, and the odd, whispered comment.
Seated at the very center of the long table was the Chairman
of the Archian Council, himself. He cheerfully smiled at the Green
Ones as they approached the banister. He looked to his left, then to
his right, waiting for the Council to come to order. When all was silent,
the plump little creature rose to his feet.
“The Archian Council recognizes Captain Finn and the Saurian
ambassadors.” he said, courteously. “Tell us, Captain, what brings
you here on a rainy, unpleasant day such as this? Word from the Creator,
perhaps?”
Finn bowed his head. Under his breath, he spoke, in
Saurianese, to the officer standing very close to him, on his left.
“They will either flatly refuse to believe, or they’ll start preparing a
drunken celebration. My money is on the latter.” The officer
chuckled.
“Gentlemen of the Council,” Finn began, “I thank you for giving
us audience today, especially as this meeting was so completely unannounced.
As for the news we bring you on this day, I must implore that you give this
matter your fullest attention, for I bear news that will greatly affect
your world, as well as ours.” Finn’s voice was loud, his words echoing
off the walls of the stone chamber. The councilmen all turned, confused,
to the Chairman for his reaction, only to find that he was as bewildered
as they.
The Chairman sputtered. “Captain, you have our utmost
attention! Please, elaborate, by all means!” The rest of the
Council voiced their agreement. With his typical scowl, Finn studied
the floor at length. A dread silence filled the room.
Finally, Finn spoke. “Gentlemen, I have spent a great
deal of time contemplating the best means by which to explain this situation
to you. And I have decided it necessary to begin by reacquainting
you with a very basic principle of science… that is to say, a simple quality
of Creation. You may recall that I have explained this quality to the
Council in the past, on at least several occasions. Yet, now, it is
quite important that I go over it again, and that you seek to fully understand,
and accept what I describe as valid truth.” Finn looked around.
“Are you prepared to do this?”
Again, all eyes were on the Chairman. “Well… of course,
old boy! I mean, we’ll certainly TRY! You will at least find
this Council very open minded to your… scientific musings!”
Finn’s left hand officer leaned close to him and whispered,
“I’ll take that bet.”
Finn continued. “Very well, then. Tell me- do
any of you remember what we are referring to when we speak of ‘gravity’?”
There was a period of silence as the councilmen allowed the
Chairman to produce an answer, but he was finding it difficult phrasing
an immediate response. Finally, someone stood up and said, “I beg
your pardon, but the answer seems to have momentarily escaped the Chairman.
As I recall, gravity is the property of an object which causes it to fall
to the ground, is it not?”
“Yes.” replied Finn. “However, gravity is a property
of ALL material objects. A stone doesn’t simply fall to the ground.
The stone possesses gravity, as well. One might say the ground and
the stone are attracted to each other by a MUTUAL gravity. But because
the ground is so much larger, so is its influence of its gravity. That’s
why the stone seems to fall to the ground, not the ground to the stone.
Therefore it can be said of gravity: The larger the object-”
Finn paused, looking around the room for someone to conclude the statement.
It was the Chairman who at length jumped up and said, “-the stronger the
force of gravity will be!”
Finn exhaled. “That is correct.”
“Yes,” said the Chairman, “but what you describe in such scientific
terms is but a simple and natural part of the design of the Creator, not
of necessity a thing that needs explaining, or even naming. Everyone
knows of this- this- ‘gravity’.”
“Not of necessity,” Finn replied, “unless you wish to calculate
and express the motions of the stars and the planets, for even these are
subject to this simple and natural part of the Creator’s design. And
this is the very reason I come before you today. There is a phenomenon
at work which involves the stars and the planets, and indeed, all of Creation.
This is why you MUST understand the principle of gravity, for gravity itself
is the cause of the matter I bring before you today.”
“Well,” the Chairman exclaimed, “we do. The notion seems
a bit abstract, most would agree, but its basic premise, as you have described
it, is clearly understood. You may proceed, Captain.”
Finn shifted uncomfortably. “Yes, very well. Now,
consider your sun. It is made up of so much matter, the strength of
its gravity is very powerful, indeed. The sun’s gravity is strong
enough to hold your world, and your divine Monument, in orbit around itself,
much like a man standing in place, whirling a pair of stones tied to the
end of a long piece of string. In this example, the string is the
bond of your sun’s gravity.”
With this proclamation, the councilmen all suddenly reacted
with a start, and began urgently whispering amongst each other. The
Chairman fumbled for a wooden gavel and banged it loudly several times,
and then sternly announced, “It is NOT the purpose of these proceedings
to determine exactly WHICH celestial body orbits WHICH. That formidable
task can be attempted at a later inquest. Please allow the Saurian
Captain to continue without further interruption.”
The four Saurians got a legitimate chuckled out of that.
Finn smiled and bowed to the Chairman, and with a sigh of relief, said,
“Thank you, your honor.”
Finn went on. “As we have explained before, there are
many kinds of suns. Your sun , for example, is really a very average
type of star. It possesses an average degree of gravity. We’ve
seen countless stars like yours in the galaxy.”
“Excuse me, old boy,” said the Chairman, “but, eh… ‘Galaxy’,
again, if you don’t mind…?”
“Our galaxy is a vast gathering of stars, a great many of
them, collected together. As seen from afar, a galaxy appears as a
cloud of tiny specks of light, or a whirlpool, each speck of light a star.”
“Yes, thank you. I remember this, now. Continue,
Captain.”
“And although the lifespan of a star is long indeed,
all stars, in time, will perish. A sun such as yours would peacefully
burn out and become a large, glowing red ember, about six billion years from
now. A sun three times the size of yours, upon burning up all its fuel,
would become a very tiny, very heavy, inert, rotating object we call a ‘Rotar’.
There are, in the galaxy, however, suns that are so much larger than yours,
perhaps five times larger… and when a star such as this expires…”
Finn could not find the words. Even though he’d gone over this exact
moment in his head many hundreds of times over the years, now that the scenario
was finally sitting there in front of him, he couldn’t bring himself to say
the words.
The Chairman, confused by Finn’s silence, said, “Very large
stars, you were saying, Captain?”
“Yes,” said Finn. “Very large stars, with very powerful
gravity. When a star as massive as this burns out, it can no longer
support the tremendous weight of its own corpse. What happens then
is something terrible… something utterly destructive and unimaginable.
The star’s own ponderous mass squeezes itself down, ever further, until it
has been crushed out of existence at a single point in space. The star
has literally disappeared from the cosmos. The resulting phenomenon,
this terrible place once a star, is what we call a ‘gravity well’.
It is a ravenous void into which other matter is drawn. And once consumed
in this bottomless pit, all is lost forever from Creation. And as the
well devours more stellar material, its sphere of destructive influence grows
larger still, enabling it to reach out to even more matter. And there
is no power in all Creation that can stop this destruction run mad, once
it has begun. And at the center of the gravity well is but a pinpoint.
Yet this point is of infinite mass, and infinite gravity.”
The Chairman scratched his head. “That does sound rather
unpleasant. I am grateful we don’t have one of THOSE lurking about.
But, eh, when you say, ‘Infinite gravity’, eh, what do you mean, exactly,
by ‘Infinite’?”
“Well, you know what ‘Infinite’ means, don’t you? It means,
nothing can be greater or higher. All powerful.”
“Oh, of course.” said the Chairman. “All powerful, like
the Creator.”
“Eh, yes.” Finn replied. “The Creator. Well, with
all due respect to your deity, we Saurians have never believed in a creator.
It would be an absurd god, indeed, one who would create a cosmos, only to
send it crashing into itself. There must NOT be a creator, then.
The universe must be merely a very unfortunate accident, which will soon…”
Finn caught himself. But by then, it was too late.
Several of the curious little primates climbed onto the table. One
of them said, “What are you saying, Captain?” The Chairman, who was
also becoming a bit alarmed, said, “Yes, Captain, what will the universe
soon do, exactly?”
Here it was. The moment Finn had visualized so many
times. It was like reciting a verse from memory. “Very early
in our history, we discovered the existence of gravity wells, and became
aware of the dread consequences of their being. You see, even across
vast distances of space, galaxies are drawn to other galaxies by their own
collective gravity. As they grow closer, space… the very cosmos itself…
is compressed, smaller, and smaller. We have helplessly watched the
universe shrink like this for millennia. We’ve seen galaxies crashing
together with destruction such as to defy belief. We’ve witnessed
gigantic gravity wells consume entire CLUSTERS of galaxies, and then go
on to collide with other giant wells, producing still larger ones…”
Finn allowed himself a moment for composure. Just a few more lines,
and the act will have been played.
“But here is the terrible truth I must now tell you.
And it is truth, indeed, for we have seen it coming for ages. The destruction
of the entire universe is very nearly complete. This world, this galaxy,
is one of the last in existence. Soon, it too will perish… and all
that is… will be no more.” Finn exhaled.
The council was dumbfounded. Some of the councilmen
absently sat down. Others, already sitting, stood up. The Chairman
looked around at the prevailing state of confusion, then at Finn.
Finally, the Chairman said to Finn, “Do you actually mean
to stand before us today, and seriously proclaim the end of the world?”
“Not only the end of the world,” he said, “the end of all
creation.”
The Chairman sat down. “Are you sure?”
“I’m afraid so.”
A few of the councilmen raised their hands and wore urgent
expressions. The Chairman looked around the room helplessly. “Councilman
Seti.” he said. One of the Archians stood up.
“Captain, you say that entire stars and galaxies are being
destroyed. If this is the case, why do we not observe this phenomenon
in our night sky? It seems to be filled with plenty of stars!”
Finn responded, “The vast majority of bright objects visible
in your night sky are stars within this particular galaxy. Some of
them, though, are other galaxies beyond this one, so far away they appear
as stars. The truth is, if your people had even a single telescope
trained upon the night sky, you WOULD observe the galaxies as they disappear
into the advancing gravity wells. The destruction has not yet reached
us here, in our galaxy. That is why you still see countless stars in
the sky. These belong to the local galaxy, and are all relatively close
to us.”
Another, elderly Archian, raised his hand. “Councilman
Naga.” said the Chairman.
“I must say, Captain, the very idea of what you suggest offends
my sensibilities to their core.” With that, many others agreed.
“Our Creator would never allow his work to be utterly destroyed. It
would violate his very nature.” There was another chorus of agreement.
“However, putting my faith beneath your description of reality for a moment,
it seems the next logical question would be; for how many more days, would
you estimate, must I endure my nagging wife?” There was a spattering
of monkey laughter.
“Seven or eight.” replied Finn, flatly. “Closer to eight.”
He looked around at the councilmen. “Any other questions?”
Another hand was raised. “Councilman Rafu.”
“Captain Finn, with all your advanced scientific instruments,
have you learned anything about the Temple of the great Father?”
Finn was stunned to hear a question such as this come from
an Archian. He said, “Well, Mister Rafu, we have been studying the Monument
for… well, ever since we arrived, really, and…”
Suddenly, the Chairman jumped up and interjected. “What?
You mean to say, you’ve been poking about the home of the Creator himself
for nearly two hundred years, and in all that time, it never occurred to
you to simply ask HIM about all this?”
“Your honor,” said Finn, “the temple of your Creator is so
huge, and so complex… we have encountered no other entities there. Of
course, we have only explored but a very small fraction of its entirety… inside,
it is a vast labyrinth of chambers and passageways. The entire superstructure
seems to be a vast and mysterious maze. The design seems in no way
to be functional, but instead, purely ornamental. Furthermore, its
structure is fantastically diverse, as if the artifact had been created by
millions of different architects, each with his own unique set of aesthetic
values. The artifact is, literally, a monument to the countless civilizations
that appear to have built it. Indeed, the likenesses of millions of
biological species are represented in the form of sculpture and carvings.
There is also much history recorded in the structure, in the form of hieroglyphics,
and strange, alien languages. Of these, we’ve only managed to translate
a pitiful handful, only to learn they were merely the life histories of
civilizations much like our own…”
The Archians sat mesmerized, either by fascination, disbelief,
or sheer stupefaction.
“The artifact is made of a substance completely unknown to
us. Were it made of any stone or steel with which we are familiar, our
technology could easily make detection through solid substance, and in very
short order we would be able to produce a three dimensional schematic of
the entire artifact. Unfortunately, the substance is absolutely impervious.
We cannot see through it with any instrument, and we cannot pass through
it by any means. We have been forced to make our exploration physically,
chamber by chamber, tediously mapping out small sections, hoping to finally
happen upon some small clue as to what the artifact is, and why it was constructed.
In nearly two of your centuries, we have mapped only a very small fraction
of a very small fraction of the artifact’s totality. Without going
into more specific details, that is all I can say. It is the most incredible
construction imaginable, its origin and purpose, still a total mystery.”
The Council was stunned by what it had just heard. The
Chairman, deeply absorbed in thought, errantly rose from his chair and began
to pace back and forth behind the long table, all the while looking down
at the floor and tapping his chin with his knuckles. It was fortunate
for Milo and Luna that the Chairman didn’t examine the floor TOO closely.
Otherwise, he might have noticed a small grate with steel bars, and the
two eavesdroppers concealed beneath it.
It was councilman Rafu who spoke again. “Captain, you
called the substance of the great Temple ‘impervious’. What does this
word mean, exactly?”
“Why, ‘impervious’ means, that which cannot be penetrated.”
replied Finn. “We have devices that can cut through the hardest material
we know of, but this technology makes not the slightest impression on the
substance of which the artifact is made. Yet, somehow, someone did
fashion this material into the forms we observe. How it was done is
completely beyond our comprehension.”
At this, the Chairman stopped his pacing. “Captain Finn,
everyone knows ‘how’ the Temple was fashioned. It is the work of the
Creator. This truth is only supported by the fact that you, with all
your scientific knowledge, still can’t answer these very important questions.”
“You are correct, your honor.” said Finn. “We cannot.
However, we are not the crowning achievement of evolution, either.
This is quite obvious. In this galaxy, there are beings far more advanced
than us. We know this to be true, for we have seen them depicted within
the artifact, itself. They would be the ones who know the answer.
If only we could translate the languages of THESE beings…”
Councilman Rafu continued. “I was about to make a point,
Captain. You tell us that the cosmos will soon be crushed out of existence
by an unstoppable force, possessed of infinite gravity. You also tell
us that the holy Temple of the Father is impervious, that no power you know
of can penetrate it. Do I need to state the logical conclusion?”
Finn bowed graciously to Rafu. “Very good, Mister Rafu.
You have just stumbled upon an ancient paradox. For ages, philosophers
have asked, ‘What happens when an irresistible force meets an immovable
object?’ Sadly, there is no satisfactory answer. You see, it
is merely a paradox of logic which arises when one employs terms of an absolute
nature, such as ‘all powerful’, and ‘impervious’, and then pits one against
the other. And remember, I can’t say with any certainty that the temple
of your Creator is absolutely indestructible.”
The Chairman seized his gavel and banged it loudly three times.
“Councilman Rafu has just underlined the very issue. Captain Finn
insists there is a cosmic force of destruction at large that cannot be stopped.
Yet, by his own testimony, he also cannot prove that the Temple of the Creator
is NOT impervious to this destruction. He also admits that his exploration
of the Temple has revealed but a very small fraction of it.”
“This is true, your honor.” Finn conceded.
“There you have it, then.” said the Chairman, making a triumphant,
sweeping gesture with both arms. “There is no reason at all to compromise
our faith. While we must grant that the Captain speaks the truth about
this advancing destruction, he can say nothing contradictory to what we
believe about the holy Temple. It is the home of the Creator, and
it is everlasting. One such as He would never allow it, OR us, His
chosen people, to suffer a fate such as the Saurian Captain has described.”
With that, a few of the councilmen began to clap. The
others quickly followed the cue, and soon the chamber was filled with applause
and cheering. The Saurians stood unmoving and aloof. Suddenly,
a councilman jumped up and proclaimed, “At the end, the Creator will protect
us within His all powerful domain!” This opened the flood gates.
Another councilman loudly began expounding his theory. Soon, several
others joined in, and then chaos ruled the chamber.
“The Creator will spare not only us, but our world, and the
sun, as well!”
“This is not a terrible thing! It will be a divine miracle!”
“It is the Great Ascension, spoken of in ancient lore!”
The Chairman got to his feet, walked the length of the bench,
around to the front, and came to stand with the group of Saurians at the
banister. Short and round, he smiled up at the Captain, who towered
three times taller, and said, “Well. I guess that concludes this meeting.”
“Yes,” replied Finn, “it would seem that way. Well,
you know where our ground base is located, should you have any more questions,
or if there is anything you need. Your honor, I wish to thank you
for your kindness and hospitality over the years.”
“You are most welcome, Captain Finn. And I hope to have
you back again, soon. Very soon, indeed. Give my very best to
all of your men, and may the Creator bless and keep you in this terrible,
terrible time.”
“Thank you, your honor.” Finn and his three officers
bowed to the Chairman, and he bowed to them in return.
The two very different creatures shook hands, then the Chairman
waddled off back to the bench. Finn turned to his officers and said,
“Let’s get out of here.” The Saurians squeezed themselves into the
main hallway and began to work their way towards the front door.
In the concealed passageway beneath the floor of the chamber,
Milo turned to Luna and said, “Let’s get out of here. Sounds like
they’ve wrapped it up. At least, they’ve been shouting for almost
a full minute, now.” Luna began to laugh, then caught herself.
Then, she giggled at the very notion of stifling herself; as if anyone could
hear her above the shouting.
The pair turned around and began to make their way back down
the narrow crawl space. A short time later they emerged from a well
concealed access way in the back of the Council chamber building.
It was early afternoon. The worst of the storm had passed, the clouds
had parted, and the wet, steaming, tropical world was bright and green again.
Milo and Luna made their way up a mossy embankment to
where the jungle began, and then leapt into the trees. The nimble,
monkey-like creatures had soon bounced their way up through the branches
to the dizzying height of the tree top level. There they perched to
survey the land and the sea. A lone, lingering cloud was passing by,
just above them, and they were treated to a brief sun shower. After
it had moved off, Luna turned to face the south. She began to dry off
in the salty breeze coming in from the sea. She tossed her head towards
Milo. “Are you satisfied, now?” she asked?
“Yeah,” he replied with a grin, “life is good.”
They looked into each other’s eyes, quietly searching for
something to say that was somehow equal to the moment, something as significant
as this unspoken urgency. Finally, they both laughed and shook their
heads. Then Milo seized the girl by the arm and whispered into her
ear.
“According to the weather report, we’ve still got seven or
eight days. Closer to eight, if we’re lucky. So… what would you
like to do with this time?”
“We had a deal, remember?” she replied. “First, we’d
spy on the Council meeting. THAT was a lot of fun, by the way.
You sure know how to show a girl a good time, Milo. Then, we had plans
to take your sail skiff east to visit the mentor, remember? Why do
you ask? Has something more important come up?”
Milo thought for a moment. “No, you’re right.
Besides, the news of this will soon spread throughout the entire village.
There’s no telling HOW the people will react to it. Things might get
a little crazy. All the more reason to get out of here. Take
a little vacation. Get away from it all for a while.”
“Right.” said Luna. “And you’ll not find a better retreat
than Viro’s place.”
“Yeah.” said Milo, with a particular undertone of sarcasm.
“I’d LOVE to hear what the learned guru has to say about all this.
I just hope we find him in a more… scientific frame of mind this time, because
I’m really in no mood for his unique brand of… mumbo jumbo.”
Luna became angry. “Viro is not a practitioner of ‘mumbo
jumbo’. He is a very wise man. His views are just a little…
esoteric, that’s all.”
“His views are a little… fermented, if you know what I mean.”
Luna folded her arms. “Oh, drop dead. If you know
what I mean.”