Read Online Broken Angels by Harambee K. Grey-Sun - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Harambee K. Grey-Sun
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useful, and rejecting all the rest that’s bad.”
“ None of it’s good.”
“Maybe he really is just talking about living a careful life of peace,” Zel said, “just clean living and meditation, and hypnotism never comes into play. I haven’t spent enough time with Darryl to feel as if I could get inside his mind, but I have spent considerable time with someone who has actually been there. You shouldn’t worry.”
Robert looked downward and shook his head.
“You know that Darryl has spent dozens of hours working closely with Vince,” Zel asked, “assisting him with his experiments in Xyn?”
“Yeah,” Robert said, “and those experiments have only helped convince Darryl that what he’s doing is having some effect, bringing order—piece by piece—to chaos.”
“And maybe he is.”
“I don’t buy it,” Robert said. “There’s no way to bring order to a plane of existence whose environment is constantly being altered by a countless number of minds. Every sentient being’s thoughts, whims, and wishes combined…You go into that realm confused and come out even more confused. I just don’t buy into the idea there’s any way to bring order to it.”
“Okay, well, what would you buy?”
Robert hesitated before responding. “I just want to know why— why is it that so many who have this damn Virus have to create these stupid, personal, religified fictions based on bad books of poetry.”
“Would you be happier if the books were better?”
Robert frowned in response to the toymaker’s smile and said, “All these damn Creation and Reformation myths, all of them variations on each other while being at odds with one another. Just like their Believers. None of them completely sensible—”
“Just like their Believer’s actions.”
“Right.”
Zel reassumed a straight face and said, “Robert, you know as well as I that most victims of the Virus create or adopt mythological narratives because they have to. They have to find a way to survive, mentally cope with the rest of their lives after their horrific experiences of a realm like XynKroma.”
Robert didn’t believe “horrific” was a strong enough description for an extra-dimensional realm composed of polluted light, a realm that didn’t adhere to the known laws of physics or even what the wackiest spiritualist would call common sense. He also didn’t believe there was only one way to survive after having traveled all the way there and back.
“I didn’t,” Robert said.
“So you keep telling yourself,” Zel said.
“And I’ll tell the same to anyone who’ll listen. I never came out of the experience wanting to go on a messianic crusade to mess with people’s minds under the pretense that I was in some way saving the world.”
“No,” Zel said, “but not long after your first extended stay there you joined the IAI and our crusading efforts to help save lost children, to help prove to them that they were never forgotten.”
Robert took a deep breath.
“Yeah, okay,” he said. “After my first experiences of Xyn, I was convinced that the human family needs strengthening. But none of us need any fictions to tell us that, or to help us solve the problem.”
Zel hunched his shoulders and leaned forward. Robert couldn’t see his eyes, but he could sense they were looking straight at his, maybe even through it.
“Robert,” he said, in a tone far more serious than Robert had ever heard him use, “you’re much younger than I am, and I know you’ve been through a lot in your short time on this Earth. But you’ve never had children. You’ve never raised them, neglected them by paying too much attention to a woman who wasn’t their mother, or lost them before their time. I have. And I’ve had time to think about the experience—all of it—long after it was over. About the moments of happiness, about what made those moments so happy for us. And about how I could find joy in life after resolving myself to the fact
“ None of it’s good.”
“Maybe he really is just talking about living a careful life of peace,” Zel said, “just clean living and meditation, and hypnotism never comes into play. I haven’t spent enough time with Darryl to feel as if I could get inside his mind, but I have spent considerable time with someone who has actually been there. You shouldn’t worry.”
Robert looked downward and shook his head.
“You know that Darryl has spent dozens of hours working closely with Vince,” Zel asked, “assisting him with his experiments in Xyn?”
“Yeah,” Robert said, “and those experiments have only helped convince Darryl that what he’s doing is having some effect, bringing order—piece by piece—to chaos.”
“And maybe he is.”
“I don’t buy it,” Robert said. “There’s no way to bring order to a plane of existence whose environment is constantly being altered by a countless number of minds. Every sentient being’s thoughts, whims, and wishes combined…You go into that realm confused and come out even more confused. I just don’t buy into the idea there’s any way to bring order to it.”
“Okay, well, what would you buy?”
Robert hesitated before responding. “I just want to know why— why is it that so many who have this damn Virus have to create these stupid, personal, religified fictions based on bad books of poetry.”
“Would you be happier if the books were better?”
Robert frowned in response to the toymaker’s smile and said, “All these damn Creation and Reformation myths, all of them variations on each other while being at odds with one another. Just like their Believers. None of them completely sensible—”
“Just like their Believer’s actions.”
“Right.”
Zel reassumed a straight face and said, “Robert, you know as well as I that most victims of the Virus create or adopt mythological narratives because they have to. They have to find a way to survive, mentally cope with the rest of their lives after their horrific experiences of a realm like XynKroma.”
Robert didn’t believe “horrific” was a strong enough description for an extra-dimensional realm composed of polluted light, a realm that didn’t adhere to the known laws of physics or even what the wackiest spiritualist would call common sense. He also didn’t believe there was only one way to survive after having traveled all the way there and back.
“I didn’t,” Robert said.
“So you keep telling yourself,” Zel said.
“And I’ll tell the same to anyone who’ll listen. I never came out of the experience wanting to go on a messianic crusade to mess with people’s minds under the pretense that I was in some way saving the world.”
“No,” Zel said, “but not long after your first extended stay there you joined the IAI and our crusading efforts to help save lost children, to help prove to them that they were never forgotten.”
Robert took a deep breath.
“Yeah, okay,” he said. “After my first experiences of Xyn, I was convinced that the human family needs strengthening. But none of us need any fictions to tell us that, or to help us solve the problem.”
Zel hunched his shoulders and leaned forward. Robert couldn’t see his eyes, but he could sense they were looking straight at his, maybe even through it.
“Robert,” he said, in a tone far more serious than Robert had ever heard him use, “you’re much younger than I am, and I know you’ve been through a lot in your short time on this Earth. But you’ve never had children. You’ve never raised them, neglected them by paying too much attention to a woman who wasn’t their mother, or lost them before their time. I have. And I’ve had time to think about the experience—all of it—long after it was over. About the moments of happiness, about what made those moments so happy for us. And about how I could find joy in life after resolving myself to the fact
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