What is a quest, exactly? The more I thought about it, the more I realized the necessity of understanding that question, understanding the true nature of what I’d been told to accomplish.
In general, the quest is undertaken by a hero. It’s an archetypal pattern of the sort first examined in depth by a mythologist named Joseph Campbell back in the Exploitation Era. Campbell believed that although the hero could face many obstacles, many dangers along his or her path, the true point of the quest was personal growth, an uncovering of the true nature of the self.
If I am to undertake the hero’s quest, I must understand the nature of my adversary. And I can only conclude that the adversary in this situation is the one who determined the form and function of the quest – Ashtara. If I have properly comprehended the nature of Ashtara, the grove, and my fellows, then in a very real sense, I am Ashtara. The achievements are intended as a voyage of self-discovery – the hero’s quest defined – and the adversary is both classic and ultimate – my own self.
Following this logic, it became clear that I was not going to achieve the quest by playing darts.
Before I left, I availed myself of a map of the pleroma, studied it. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to automatically add features as they were discovered, but it would have to do. Familiarity with the territory is of the utmost importance, as the nature of Ashtara is revealed in His pleroma, and the form of the quest is determined by it. Know thy enemy.
The pleroma is in itself a map, a map of the ontology of Ashtara’s mind. My path was clear almost instantaneously. The hero leaves the comfort of his old self – the State of Independence – and undertakes a period of struggle and darkness – the alchemical nigredo, as characterized by the State of Decay. A challenge, a crisis follows – the State of Emergency, which when overcome leads to a State of Grace followed by a State of Enlightenment. The hero can choose to remain or return. If the return is chosen, he’ll pass through a temporary State of Confusion, followed by a State of Strength. At this point, he returns to the State of Independence, which no longer symbolizes ego, but rather the mature self.
I can only assume that by following this trajectory, I’ll eventually accomplish one of the achievements which will lift my spark into the mandala, the symbol of self-actualization.
With these thoughts in mind, I board the hovertrain which travels along the southeast coast, through the Marshes of Misery to Rustbucket, then the Decidua Skybase, and finally reaches the end of the line in Noir. My plan is to stop at Rustbucket, then resume to Decidua, changing to a northbound train when I arrive there.
The train is empty, and I feel alone. I wish this quest were of the sort that is achieved with companions, the way that Julian and Theo made their achievements, but that didn’t seem to be working out for me. The more I think about it, the more I approve of Malachi’s actions, no matter how manipulative they might seem. In the context of the quest, an initiatory ritual makes sense. Our ordeal seems to have developed us in a way missed by the branches who were simply deposited in the cenote. For example, Poole is a nice fellow, but he seems to be lacking a certain depth.
Even though I know that it is something to be expected, my spirits slump on the dull, disheartening ride through the State of Decay. I decide to make the best use of my time by reviewing the information I have about Rustbucket. Rustbucket was previously visited by a group of questing emanations; on the other hand, that group never reached Decidua, so it is entirely unknown to me – which is perhaps for the best.
There are supposed to be Bounders in Rustbucket – how curious. Ashtara has encountered a wide variety of sentient species, but of them, only humanity and the Bounders are represented in the pleroma. The other creatures of intelligence here are either blatant simulations – like Jane and Nicola – penguins, based broadly on ancient Terran species but with decidedly expanded ability to think, communicate and manipulate objects, and completely new creations like the Sultana of Celadon.
So why the Bounders? If my information is correct, they’re a non-spacefaring civilization; according to the Combine of Sentients, they’ve recently emerged from Preliminary to Rudimentary Sentience status. Recently is defined as within the last few millennia. It seems to be the general consensus on Terra and in the Domha’vei that they ought to be let alone, but some in the IndWorlds have argued that they should be allowed to be kept as pets.
If this is so, has Ashtara even seen a Bounder in the flesh?
I disembark when the train reaches the city. It really is every bit as bad as accounts would make it, a dumping ground for litter, sewage – probably toxic waste, too. Or am I lacking in imagination? Looked at in a certain way, its crumbling towers have a melancholy dignity.
But what could it mean? I’m reminded of the questions which were raised when Theo found the archaeological relic. An archaeological relic implies a prior civilization. And here it is – a prior civilization. Not Bounder civilization either, human civilization. The Bounders have simply inhabited the city, seizing random artifacts of human civilization – like Tannon’s Cadillac – and elevating them to objects of worship.
A group of refugees trying to lift themselves into Advanced Sentience by imitating human culture, but not really understanding it. By creating a new religion.
« You got it, » says a squawking voice, coming from behind, below and to the left of me. « The Bounders are a representation of the Cu’enashti atavistic state. »
The speaker is a king penguin. « You must be my animal helper and spirit guide, » I deduce, remembering the pattern of the monomyth.
« Howdy do, » it replies.
« Do you have a name? »
It ceases its waddling gate, regards me with an abbreviated snort. « Do you know you’re the first emanation who ever asked a penguin that? »
« Is that a problem? »
The penguin looks thoughtful. « I’m not sure. On the one hand, it indicates a certain attitude of arrogance and privilege among the emanations. On the other, humans aren’t really in the habit of naming their neurons; trees don’t name their mycorrhizae. »
« I think it would be easier if I had a name to call you. »
« You can call me whatever you’d like. »
« What’s a good name for a penguin? »
« Pingu, Pengo, Sparky, Opus, Chilly Willy, Tennessee Tuxedo. »
« Um, let’s change the question. What’s a good name for a spiritual guide? »
« Merlin. »
Merlin and I head back to the train platform. « You know, the last group of emanations that visited mistook the State of Emergency for the State of Panic, » he tells me.
That seems to be a useful distinction. In fact, it seems that if you’re in the State of Emergency, the last thing you’d want to do is mistake it for the State of Panic. « The root of the word “emergency” is emergence. “Emergency” tends to be conflated with the concept of disaster, but it’s really describing a situation which is unfolding rapidly. »
« Good, » says Merlin. « Go on. »
« Both emergence and unfolding seem essential qualities for the hero’s quest. »
We board the train, which, to my surprise heads out over the ocean instead of following the coastline. It is the most direct route to Decidua, and also the great advantage of hovertrains, but I have to say that I’m a bit disappointed that we won’t be travelling through at least a little bit of the State of Grace. I could use some grace right now. I suppose that it makes more sense to get the full experience on the return journey.
The trip seems much shorter than the map would indicate. Apparently, time flows slower in the State of Decay than the State of Emergency. As we approach, I get a good view of the Skybase, and I have to say that it’s impressive. It’s clean, efficient, a level of technology I’ve never seen before.
« It’s really a pastiche of several Sider GmbH instillations. » Merlin must notice my blank expression, because he continues. « Ernst Sider was one of Tara’s ancestors, the one responsible for planting the Father Tree, the one responsible for engineering the genetic code of the matriarchs to activate the staff, all that good stuff. He came from a family of commercial space explorers. »
« This technology… »
« High Exploitation Era Earth. You can get a better feel for the style in NEUranus. »
As the train pulls into the station, I’m filled with a sense of loss. « It’s depressing to think that civilizations can regress as well as advance. »
« But perhaps sometimes necessary. Like heroes, civilizations can have paths, trajectories. »
But why is the Skybase in the State of Emergency? The branches who originally explored this territory thought there were atomic warheads here – but there weren’t. The missile silo turned out to be hidden in a secret bunker beneath a watering hole called the Shaky Cactus. Of course it did – a place of drunken confusion, of trembling, prickly, defensive, phallic – all indicators lead to “missile.” The pleroma is easy if you know how to read it.
But this isn’t at all a military base. It’s a base geared towards commercial and scientific missions. It’s from the period when humanity began the serious colonization of space – a period of emergence – which provoked a crisis – emergency – a conflict between individuality, country, corporate interests, ethnicity, gender, basically every controversy concerning the individual’s relationship to social groupings either chosen or imposed, and the dividing line between freedom and selfishness. A crisis that had been building since the first emergence – into sentience – which erupted during the great leap beyond the homeworld.
The great leap – the grand jeté. « This is about us, » I realize. « This is about developing a fully realized sense of self before incorporation into the collective. »
« Well, duh, » says my companion.
« But this…they’re calling it the Great Hatch…isn’t it pushing a little too fast? The achievements are a little too easy for the sake of expedience? »
Merlin nods. « It’s going to be a problem further down the line. »
« Then this journey…its purpose was simply to give me time, to get me to think for myself. »
« Bingo. Hey look, there’s the northbound train. Time to move on to the State of Grace. »