Forge of Creation

Dream of Anubis

CA. 50,000 B.C.E. The inven­tion of Quan­tum Entan­gled Travel

“Poli­tics is more dif­fi­cult than phy­sics“
–Albert Einstein

“Too many defects.” Anu­bis exc­lai­med with a wave of his hand that sent the faulty cir­cuit crys­tal flying off into a nearby junk­pile of simi­lar fai­lu­res. “Without qua­lity parts, I will be for­tu­nate to send a feather to the other gate.” he said in a mum­bling, exhaus­ted whisper.

“Many apo­lo­gies mas­ter, I will ins­truct the igigi to cali­brate the mag­ne­tic fields before we repeat the process.”

Anu­bis waved his appren­tice Neti off, and again loo­ked over his cal­cu­la­tions. The locu­lus trans­mit­ter requi­red an extre­mely low mar­gin of fre­quency error to suc­cess­fully open a quan­tum tether bet­ween gates. Without this tether, ins­tan­ta­neous com­mu­ni­ca­tion was impos­si­ble and further, without com­mu­ni­ca­tion, the mole­cule entan­gle­ment would also fail.
Of course, this pro­blem was his res­pon­si­bi­lity to solve. Many years ago, he had pro­po­sed that he could build a por­tal sys­tem desig­ned to trans­mit men and mate­rials over large dis­tan­ces. He had expec­ted oppo­si­tion from his caste, the Igigi, but none came. The Warriors liked the idea of being able to deploy from Aleph on short notice ins­tead of the weeks neces­sary using an orbi­tal vimana. The Jud­ges were more inte­res­ted in the abi­lity to trans­port large quan­ti­ties of mate­rials to Aleph.

The only weak­ness of a wor­king sys­tem is during the swap­ping of mass. An inc­re­dibly unli­kely dan­ger that If the field bub­ble of either gate were punc­tu­red during a trans­fer, the mass of both the sen­der and recei­ver would be tur­ned into pure energy, more vio­lent than the fusion reac­tion of a star, and obli­te­rate the pla­net on which the com­pro­mi­zed gate was loca­ted. The good news is that a field bub­ble is very strong and can easily withs­tand the stroke of a blade or the heft of an ax thrown by even the stron­gest of warriors, the­re­fore, this was of no concern.

His final pro­po­sal was to create 5 gates: One for Aleph, one each for Aleph’s moons of Nibiru and Phae­ton, and one each for Abzu and Ner­gal. Each gate would be intert­wi­ned with the others aetherially.

Now that the infras­truc­ture and mecha­nism was com­plete, his team is left with the task of crea­ting the com­mu­ni­ca­tion device. The pro­blem is less a mat­ter of phy­sics than qua­lity con­trol of the parts. The mix­ture of alloys must be exact and the crys­tal must be tuned to an exact vibra­tion to reso­nate the high energy Gold par­tic­les that will con­nect the aether bet­ween the gates into a fir­ma­ment strong enough to trans­mit data. This pro­blem has yet to be sol­ved, and the Jud­ges were impa­tient for a test.

In the coun­cil mee­tings, Anu­bis had explai­ned to anyone who would lis­ten that until this qua­lity pro­blem was sol­ved, hence without the pro­per con­nec­tion bet­ween the gates, nothing could hap­pen. A test would yield abso­lu­tely nothing, since even one faulty cal­cu­la­tion would result in a non-event.

“Maybe some rest would help him to work out a way to extract finer tole­ran­ces from the crys­tal?” “Yes, rest is what I need” he said aloud as he pur­pos­fully left a room full of start­led tech­ni­cians. They had not actually seen him rest for months, though it was com­mon rumor that he slept while sit­ting at his work. Some had even seen him close his eyes for long periods of time, though he always clai­med he was thinking.

The white mar­ble streets of Olym­pus were gol­den and pink in the Alephian sun­set and Nibiru tra­ver­sed the sky as Anu­bis rest­lessly wal­ked the path­ways of the city. Occa­sio­nally, a passer-by would be start­led by his ani­ma­ted exc­la­ma­tions to the Archons. He wal­ked and thought until the pink and pur­ple sky tur­ned to cobalt, then to black. Sud­denly, He found him­self at his home and rea­li­zed that he didn’t care so much that he had not really inten­ded to go home. He lay down and slept like he had not for years.

The harp had the most beau­ti­ful sound he had ever heard, yet the melody is of a sin­gle note. He reaches out and plucks a string, then another, then all of them. Back and forth he plucks, yet the note is the same. How very strange that a whole ins­tru­ment can be dedi­ca­ted to just one note. One that is so power­ful and pure that the lin­ge­ring tones bring water to his eyes and heat to his breath.

Then he looks up to see the clouds in the sky part ways to reveal a bright amethyst-colored sun, light pou­ring forth and bathing the harp and everything near it in a pur­ple glow that seems to seep from everything it touches. His emo­tion inten­si­fies such that he finds him­self crying like a new­born child from the inten­sity of the joy. What is this new fee­ling? Sound and light com­bi­ning to form a new sense. One that pene­tra­tes his spi­rit like a fine blade to cut away all of its imper­fec­tions one at a time. What spi­rit is left, so light that it leaps up and soars the dimen­sions beyond reality.

Finally, he comes back to rest near the Mono­lo­dious harp. But now the fog is rolling in, squelching the joy, muf­fling the sound, blan­ke­ting the sky in odi­fe­rous ruin. The harp cea­ses its song and begins to cry, then to scream as light is with­drawn and rot­ting mois­ture fills the void. The tor­tu­red strings rust then finally snap. Light­ning flashes, stri­king the harp. The ground opens and swa­llows all of creation.

Then silence…and numbness.

The sun rose as a color­ful red ball on the hori­zon while Anu­bis ente­red the com­plex to revi­sit his pro­ject with a deter­mi­na­tion borne of dis­pair. He had been angry when he awoke from his night’s sleep. His dreams fore­told of fai­lure. It was unac­cep­ta­ble and unfair that the Archons would give him this terri­ble omen. Such beauty and per­fec­tion tur­ned to ruin. He must over­come it somehow, other­wise nothing would stand accom­plished. For some strange rea­son, his hea­ring was acute and exact. Every rustle of mate­rial and foots­tep refu­sed to remain unno­ti­ced. Details of every­day sounds for­med acous­tic echoes on the fore­front of his mind which was most anno­ying. He could not con­cen­trate on the pro­blem at hand.

Something familiar…coming toward him down the corri­dor he heard the whist­ling of a tune, so faint that the recu­rring melody see­med like a loop. The same note over and over stood out in his cons­cious­ness so that all else was bloc­ked out but the sin­gle note. The song of the harp, taun­ting him to delay…or was it otherwise?

He had lear­ned in his youth to reach for the good side of a task to sus­tain him to it’s com­ple­tion. Even if it was a dis­tas­te­ful task, he wished for advan­ta­ges and good for­tune to show him a bet­ter rea­son to com­plete it than the obvious pur­pose. Was this such a time to reach for fate or for­tune, OR DREAMS to show him the way? He smi­led at the young woman who whist­led a tune as she wal­ked by him. She, loo­king sur­pri­sed, smi­led back at him and con­ti­nued whist­ling as she went.

That same eerie tune with a sin­gle note, just as the harp had done in his dream.

Anu­bis burst into the room, eyes wide, breathing hard, again stri­king con­fu­sion into the hearts of the tech­ni­cians who were on duty. “Neti!” he shrei­ked, “I have great news. Where is Neti?”

Neti appea­red imme­dia­tely, indeed he had been nearby when Anu­bis made his entrance. “Yes, lord Anu­bis.” What do you need?” He stood with anti­ci­pa­tion and yet still patience sho­wing on his face, wai­ting to hear this won­der­ful news.

“We must align the mag­ne­tic field with sound and with light” he exc­lai­med. “The vibra­tion must be at a strong har­mo­nic fre­quency to the finished crys­tal. This will solve our problem!”

The first attempt was much impro­ved but not yet correct. Anu­bis scrib­bled down some num­bers and then said “pur­ple. The light must be vio­let cohe­rent light of this fre­quency only”. he held his pad up for them all to see.

Some nod­ded, others loo­ked puzz­led. “Why is it to be that figure and not one clo­ser to the final fre­quency of the finished crys­tal? said Neti. “This one is not even a pri­mary har­mo­nic. How can it be correct?”

“Use a sound fre­quency that is the same amount below that which the light is above, from the fre­quency of the mag­ne­tic field used to create the crys­tal. Add the fre­quen­cies together and tell me what you have.”

A flurry of cal­cu­la­tions ensued. Then just as most of them nea­red an ans­wer, Neti’s face lit up. “It is the first har­mo­nic. A primary!”

“Yes” Anu­bis brigh­te­ned. “Now how about field strength. How much is enough…or too much?”

They all spoke at once. “The inverse of the volume of the crys­tal divi­ded by the fre­quency of the sound.”

“Not so!” his fin­ger wag­ged. “You neglect to inc­lude the pro­per light fre­quency and inten­sity. Mul­tiply your first ans­wer by the inverse of the reflec­ti­vity of the crys­tal divi­ded by the fre­quency of light. This will ensure that the vec­tors of the stress cracks in the crys­tal are large enough to absorb char­ged aether, yet small enough to leave the crys­tal intact when the field bub­ble collapses.

The room was silent as they all absor­bed the new infor­ma­tion. Little disa­gree­ment sho­wed on anyone’s face because they were all used to trans­la­ting new infor­ma­tion into requirements.

“Now return with a per­fect crys­tal so that I may sche­dule the test for the Jud­ges.” Anu­bis had not smi­led this broadly in years. The tech­ni­cians quickly dis­per­sed, eager to ful­fill his com­mand. One tech­ni­cian lin­ge­red near the door momen­ta­rily, eyes fixed on Anu­bis. When Anu­bis noti­ced and loo­ked his way, the Igigi dis­sap­pea­red through the open door.

Anu­bis gazed out at the crowd assem­bled in the thea­tre. The test was to be con­duc­ted with all fan­fare and pre­pa­ra­tion with which it was due, con­si­de­ring that the pro­ject was many years old and had never pro­ven it’s worth to anyone else but him. In addi­tion to An, An’s wife, and his sons, Enki and Enlil, and their sis­ter, Ninhur­sag, All seven supreme jud­ges were in atten­dance, All five each of the senior Warriors and Igigi, along with a lone sym­bo­lic repre­sen­ta­tive of the new wor­ker class, a Hu-Man who had been named Ad-Apa because he was the first Hu-man to have gai­ned recog­ni­tion for his obe­dience and industry. Not all in atten­dance would recog­nize Ad-apa to this honor. There was still much gene­ral pre­ju­dice among the Annu­nu­kai regar­ding the Hu-men. Enlil wished to pre­sent the fruits of his recent pro­ject, though rumors were thick in the air regar­ding unap­pro­ved tam­pe­ring of Ad-apa’s gene­tic pat­tern by the Warriors and the Igigi alike. Ad-apa appea­red Annu­nuk by all out­ward appea­ran­ces, though he was shor­ter and paler than most. He was con­si­de­red a tame beast at best by most, Annu­nuk by rela­ti­vely few at best. In rea­lity he was only an hono­rary citizen.

The throng of Annu­nu­kai crow­ded each other and milled about, seething like a lake of multi-colored trans­lu­cent fabric washing up and down the steps of the thea­tre.Ad-apa sat in his assig­ned space, obe­dient to the word of Enlil, his mas­ter and god, com­ple­tely una­ware that he would soon be the cen­ter of atten­tion. He loo­ked up in time to see four warriors appear about him. Only one man spoke. He said “come”, Ad-apa loo­ked up at his mas­ter Enlil to see him smi­ling his way, so Ad-apa followed.The warriors led Ad-apa to the cen­ter of the gathe­ring and mea­su­red his weight. Then they weighed a woo­den stool and pla­ced it in the cen­ter of a beau­ti­ful slab with a gabled roof above it sup­por­ted by seven car­ved columns of stone. He was told to sit on the stool and wait. Three boxes of var­ying sizes and a rope bag was pla­ced next to him. Then he watched as a dark-robed figure got up to speak to the assem­bled crowd.“Fellow Annu­nu­kai.” his arms went up to silence the chat­te­ring of the crowd. The din wea­ke­ned noticeably.

“Are we to be Annu­nu­kai or just men?” The chat­te­ring rose a little as the spec­ta­tors tur­ned to ques­tion each other about the speaker’s moti­ves. “This test will prove whether we are fit to rule. With our tech­no­logy, we shall move freely throughout our domain among the four pla­nets and build our cities where we will. We shall con­quer those who oppose us and des­troy or impri­son our ene­mies if they fall against us.

The crowd chee­red and some threw bits of cloth and straw about.“With this test, we esta­blish our right to colo­nize this sys­tem and we make it our own. All this we do for my father An and for the glory of the Annu­nu­kai.” The dark figure threw back his cloak revea­ling the whi­te­ned long locks of Enlil. The shouts of the crowd grew lou­der and drow­ned out any further words that Enlil had to say. He did not seem to mind though. He waved to the tech­ni­cians to start the test.

The roa­ring of the crowd fell to a hushed whis­per as the crew acti­va­ted the por­tal. After a moment, a dark bub­ble for­med around the edges of the pagoda. A hum rose from the ground along with a sen­sa­tion of move­ment, and a flash of strong dark light that cau­sed ever­yone to look away for fear of blind­ness. When they loo­ked back, The Hu-man and everything else pla­ced in the pagoda were gone without a trace.

Neti loo­ked over to con­gra­tu­late his mas­ter, but Anu­bis was incohe­rent, sta­ring at the sky and all the blood had drai­ned out of his face. “I have doo­med us all!” he finally said breathlessly.

“What is wrong mas­ter?” asked Neti, con­fu­sed at the surprise.

“The dream. It has two sides and we have seen but one.” Anu­bis began to stare about him and stum­bled. “Please lead me home Neti. I must sleep now.”

Ad-apa ope­ned his eyes. He had not the cou­rage to leave them open throughout the test. Enlil had told him that he would be taken to another place, but he could not have known that he had just tra­ve­led 280 million miles in an ins­tant. Nor indeed had he known, would he com­prehend the dis­tance, let alone the sig­ni­fi­cance of doing so in an ins­tant. Further, he like any who would come after him, would never unders­tand fully how he had just been per­fectly dupli­ca­ted, then des­tro­yed down to his atoms in that same ins­tant. The dupli­cate Ad-apa just smi­led and was gra­te­ful to be alive.