Kumbaya, Space Hippie Read online

  Just beyond the towers there were rows of tents. The tents vended food and crystals and “sensual massages”, and “third eye openings”. You know, the usual. I made a mental note not to eat anything while I was there. Most of the people running the stalls had the haircut, so it was safe to say whatever grub was on sale probably included coercive chemicals. I told El to do the same.

  “Should we split up?” he said. “Maybe we could cover more ground that way. After a while, we can meet underneath Bloop to compare notes.”

  I lowered my chin and winced. “That’d be a great idea. If I had a cellphone.”

  “You don’t have a cellphone?” Based on his expression, I might just as well have said, “I don’t have a respiratory system”.

  “No. I can’t afford it,” I replied. “You saw where I live. It ain’t exactly the Ritz.”

  “If you get back together with me, I’ll get you a cellphone.”

  “I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that. Also, I’m gonna nip this ‘If you get back together with me…’ meme in the bud right now. Cut it out.”

  He was genuinely contrite. “You’re right. That was dumb. Scratch it from the record.”

  I was already in pretend-it-never-happened mode. “Jesus fuck, there’s a lot of people here. The Church of Reciprocity only has like two hundred thousand members worldwide. I think all of them are here.”

  “What if—? “

  But El was cut off by a blast of sound from in front of us. Music. A fanfare played at ear-splitting volume. The stage at the far end of the space lit up. Every head turned toward it. Every demeanor in the place (except for El and I’s) changed from raucous to reverently quiet. The black curtain went up. On the stage was the house band in front of a tall black backdrop. Between the band and the backdrop another image of the smiling mascot hung, made of purple and yellow neon. Then the fanfare faded into the theme from the Improbable Pursuit films. That could mean one thing and one thing only. “Improbable” star Taylor Chriss came out on the stage to thunderous applause. Besides founder Nicos Nephus, Chriss was the face of the Church; by far its most famous adherent. Both of his hands were raised. He strolled over to the mic and milked the adulation, his million-dollar smile lighting up the first three rows. Finally, he said, “Hello, righteous people!” Again, the venue erupted into thunderous applause, and Chriss swam in it like a fish. “I am here today, amongst all you wonderful travelers, to do something I feel I was born to do. It is my duty—neigh my privilege—to introduce our founder. And let me tell you…” he took two steps back, beaming. Then two steps forward. He was good at crowd work. “Let me tell you… You picked the absolute right place to be on Earth at this moment in time.” More cheering. “Let me give you the back story. The context. I was in Portugal on a shoot and I got a call from N.N. and he said to me, ‘Taylor, I need you to be with me for an event next month. We’re calling it the Conclave for Universal Consciousness’. And I said, ‘Sounds big’, and he said, ‘Taylor, you have no idea’. Needless to say, I penciled it into my schedule.” Still more cheering. “When I got back from Europe, I went to see Nicos, and I said, ‘What can you tell me? What’s this crazy Conclave you’re planning?’ and, guess what? He told me. He told me everything that’s about to go down, and—I gotta tell you—I was rocked to the very core of my being. Really. Seriously. You faithful, you in the news media, you at home, you’re gonna be rocked to the core of your beings too. It’s that big.” He paused again, playing the crowd like a cheap piano. “So. Without. Further. Ado. I give you… Nicos Nephus!”

  Nicos Nephus—or as CoR jargon would have it, “The Messenger”—came out onstage. It was like Mick Jagger mixed with Elvis mixed with the Beatles mixed with Jesus suddenly appeared. I’ve never seen anyone receive a more ecstatic reaction. Elijah and I looked around, stunned at the reception. All the men near us were screaming. All the women were crying. It was unsettling.

  Nephus, a huge man with wiry black hair, went over to Taylor Chriss and scooped him up into a bear hug. Chriss laughed, patted Nephus’ biceps and looked at the audience with comic alarm. The audience ate it up. Finally, the leader of the space hippies put the smaller man down and indicated the microphone as if to say, “Are you done? Do you have any more to say?” The movie star aped the gesture. “It’s your turn”.

  I squinted. All I could tell was Nephus looked more or less the way he did in photos and on television. He was a burly Greek with a broad grin. “Wow,” he said. “I hope I can live up to that introduction.”

  I’ve never heard so many people laugh at the same time. In another context, it might’ve sounded like the war cry of an invading army.

  Nicos wasn’t through working the crowd. “Improbable Pursuit 6: In a theater near you, March 19th, 2019.” After the uproar died down, the big man grew quieter, more affectedly thoughtful. “You know—I don’t have to tell you this—that one of the cornerstones of our philosophy is that we’re not alone in the universe. You’ve no doubt been referred to as ‘Space Hippies’. Well, I’ve said before, and I’ll say it again: Wear that like a badge of honor. ‘I’m a space hippie, and damn proud of it!’” Another deafening ovation. “I’ve always appreciated your willingness to hear me out on this issue. For years, it bothered me that I couldn’t offer you proof of my claims about extraterrestrial life. Such is the problem will all matters of faith—they’re matters of faith and easily discounted. That changes today.”

  As soon as he said it, stagehands rolled two cylinders onto the stage and parked them behind him. The objects were about six feet tall and made of a dull black metal. The crowd grew hushed. Elijah and I both leaned in.

  “Before I show you what I’ve got, please indulge me in a little… scriptural review. We in the Church of Reciprocity believe that, not only are we not alone in the universe, the universe is teeming with life. Life in thousands of shapes and sizes. Maybe even in the shape and size of this wacky guy behind me.” He cocked a thumb in the direction of Bloop and the crowd laughed. The cult leader went on. “Out there… there’s an unending menagerie of wonders in which we humans play a humble but necessary part. Yes, the universe is alive, but we space hippies tend to focus on a few species as being more important than the others—important in the development of homo sapiens. We call these special beings The Visitors. They came here, and they boosted us out of the muck. They nurtured us and gave us the tools to join them amongst the stars.”

  Where the fuck was this headed? It was like the build-up at a magic show.

  “You’ve read my writings. You’ve heard me speak. You know that one of those paternal races took on human form to better interact with us. You know they made their home in ancient Greece. You also know their names… Zeus. Hera. Apollo. Aphrodite. Artemis. Hades.”

  Uh oh. There was a bit of space hippie trivia I was unaware of. El gave me an odd look. “Are you from space?” he said.

  “No, I’m not from fucking space,” I replied.

  We both returned our attention to the man on stage. “Great, nurturing beings with powers far beyond those of mortal men. As I told you in the past, when their time was done, the Olympians took their leave. They didn’t depart on spaceships. Rather they passed into another realm of existence.”

  Huh. That was actually true. Did Nephus have some inside sources?

  “Anyway, most of them did.” The guru reached into his pocket and took out a little clicker. Like everyone else there, I was hanging on his every word. He clicked the clicker.

  The front face of both of the cylinders rolled around to the back, revealing glass and two glow-y figures beyond. Each cylinder held an Olympian. An Olympian I recognized. Stage left was Hephaestus and stage right was Hecate. The god of the forge and the goddess of magic. Both of them had seen better days. They were spectral and sickly, their eyes sunken. They appeared to be floating in viscous blue fluid.

  The crowd gasped at Nephus’ reveal. News cameras fought one another for a closer view.

  “Ladies and gentle
men, I give you: Hephaestus and Hecate, two of the remaining Greek Visitors. Look at them with reverence and awe. They were among the midwives of our culture. The creatures that lifted us up, so we could fly.”

  All ovations before the one that followed paled in comparison. It was the closest I’ve ever been to a mass of people in the throes of religious ecstasy. It was both terrifying and oddly affirming. I was affirmed for like a half a second until I realized that the Church of Reciprocity must certainly be holding the two old gods against their will. The Leader addressed that very topic next.

  “Now I want to assure you of something… Hecate and Hephaestus are not here today against their will. The vessels that contain them are full of nutrients and sustaining medicines. What you see before you are two creatures who are nearly as old as the Earth itself. When you’re a couple of billion years past your prime, I bet you won’t look nearly as good as they do.”

  Laughter and applause.

  “But I didn’t trot these poor old souls out here for you to gawk at. I will tell you that, going forward, I will act as an intermediary for Hephaestus and Hecate. I will share with you their wisdom. I’m certain what they have to tell us will reshape the world. But, again, that’s incidental to today’s… well, ‘miracle’ is the only thing I can call it. I brought Hephaestus and Hecate before you, so they can… reshape the world.”

  I did not like the sound of that. I looked around for anything around me I could lock onto if things went really south. I came up empty. All I really had was myself, Hope and Elijah. If the world was about to be reshaped, I doubted I could stop it.

  “Would you please welcome to the stage a new member of our flock? Someone who has helped me a great deal during her short tenure amongst us. Her name is Keri…” Keri entered from stage right wearing a radiant smile. In front of her, she had both hands out, palms up. She was carrying something and the something was covered by a square of red velvet. The crowd gave her a polite welcome.

  As soon as he saw his daughter, El lunged forward, fully prepared to rush the stage. I caught his arm and pulled him back. When he looked at me, I shook my head. The last thing we needed was to get swarmed by a sea of angry space hippies.

  When Keri reached Nicos, he smiled and pulled the cloth off of her hands. Underneath the cloth was a pinecone. My pinecone. “This,” he said. “Is a pinecone.”

  The crowd laughed.

  “The Visitors had the power to imbue objects with… Well, I guess we’d call it magic. We’d call it magic because we don’t understand the positively sublime technologies of our long-ago caretakers. This pinecone—ordinary though it seems—is one such object. In fact, it was fashioned by the very two beings you see behind me.”

  Shit. Shit. Shit. He was right: Pan’s pinecone had been made by Hephaestus and Hecate. They’d made several such objects during a brief love affair.

  “It’s called a Demizoi which means ‘Partial Life’. Fortunately, we humans now have an analogous, albeit greatly inferior technology. It’s called ‘Virtual Reality’. Inside this pinecone is a miniature world. A world that people can venture into and inhabit. A world which captures the essence of old earth. During the time of the Olympians.”

  How did he know all this? Why was he able to hold the pinecone for so long without disappearing into it? The blood was pounding in my temples.

  “Much as the Christians have their stories of Eden, we have our stories of an ancient, squandered paradise. A world that, through misuse and carelessness, devolved into the mundane and, oftentimes, ugly space you see around you today. Well, that ends now. I—along with my two friends—are here to return you to a world that is your birthright. The unspoiled utopia of better days.”

  He took a step back, placing himself between the two cylinders. He raised the pinecone high.

  I freaked out. I rushed the stage weaving through the thick crowds. It took El a moment, but he followed, matching my pace.

  Hope was freaked out too. “Dora! What is happening?!”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know,” was all I said. My vision was jumbled thanks to the pace of my running. On the stage, I caught the blurry image of twin ropes of blue fire—one from each of the cylinders. They struck the pinecone in Nephus’ hand and the pinecone exploded. A light came from inside and spread so quickly that it blinded everyone there. (Hell, I couldn’t see the edges of the burst. Maybe it blinded the whole world.) Since I could no longer see, I skidded to a stop, plowing into some of the congregants. El plowed into me, and soon we were a tangle of limbs, flailing to get up, and to understand.

  On my back, Hope was wailing. She wasn’t blinded like the rest of us, but she was attuned to subtler energies. For her to cry out like that, something must’ve been very, very wrong.

  For the longest time, all of us there were inside a featureless world of white, but then the glow faded, and our eyesight slowly returned. I knew something was fundamentally different. I could smell it in the air. I don’t attribute many scents to the desert. It’s a clean place so, unless there’s sage or the carcass of a dead animal you tend not to pick up on many smells. Suddenly, that cleanness was gone. In its place, were a whole host of aromas. Alpine air. Pine needles. An ocean not far away. I rubbed my eyes, willing them to quicken their return. I pulled myself out of the tangle and stood. I realized that nearly everyone at the gathering had either stooped or thrown themselves to the ground. I was almost the only one standing.

  I was the only one to see the change that’d befallen the world.

  Nothing had changed as far as the event itself was concerned. The crowd was still there, the towers with the lights and the speakers still stood, Bloop still floated, and the stage was just as I’d seen it last.

  It was everything else that’d changed. The world from inside the pinecone was now the world at large. Rolling, grassy hills. A forest of pine. The sky a vivid blue. The earth had returned to a more primal state. The state it’d been in when I was a child, and the Olympian gods’d ruled from on-high. My jaw dropped open. How far-reaching was this change? How destructive? Could it be reversed? Even though I now had back a world I often longed for, I knew this was an abomination. I knew that it was deeply, deeply wrong.

  Elijah used my standing form as a handhold. He pulled himself up beside me. I looked at him. His eyes were huge. He didn’t have words.

  On my back, Hope was moaning softly. “Dora,” she said. “This is… This is…”

  “I know,” was my only reply.

  All around us, followers of the Church of Reciprocity were standing singly and in groups, gawking at the gift Nicos Nephus had given them. It must’ve been the first time any of them had seen real magic.

  Again, I was forced to prioritize. I shot my eyes toward the stage and saw that Keri was still up there and she was as dumbstruck as the rest of us. I grabbed Elijah by the hand and pulled. “C’mon!” I said and resumed our drive toward the front. I saw a man come in from stage right and head right toward Keri. I picked up the pace because it was a new variable and I couldn’t make out who the guy was. He took her gently by her elbows and spun her toward the wings. “Fuck,” I said. “We gotta get up there before that guy gets Keri out of sight!”

  El didn’t have to be told twice. He was breathing heavily, but he drove forward by sheer force of will.

  We had to weave around two clusters of space hippies. When we got to the other side, I had a better view of the younger Wiener and her handler. Her handler was Calesius, the former stable boy of Olympus. The guy I’d sucked into my pithos and later reconstituted. What the fuck was he doing here?

  Calesius made it to the edge of the stage and then he stopped. He didn’t seem altogether certain where he was going. He looked around, for what I don’t know.

  On the stage, Nicos quietly left. The two metal cylinders were withdrawn, and raucous music began. A new band had filled the riser and the sounds of Grecian music shattered the former desert air. As I ran, I picked up one peculiar detail. In f
ront of the ensemble was Sebastian Squire, the Neo-Olympian. The venture capitalist who built and ran Acadine, the mountaintop retreat made to look like ancient Greece. He was stripped to the waist and his torso and head were painted in yellow and blue bands. He played the bongos like someone deep in an opium stupor.

  I pulled my eyes away from Squire and back to Calesius. The boy was still looking around, wondering what to do and where to go. Next to him, Keri was docile. Or at least she was docile until she saw Elijah and I. Then she panicked, as if the two of us represented some deep threat. Cal grabbed her by her upper arms and kept her from running back onstage.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I said, my palms upraised in front of me. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Pandora!” Calesius said, surprised. “Mr. Wiener! I’m getting her out of here. You can help me.”

  “Getting her out of here? Why?”

  “What do you mean ‘why’?” he replied. “Have you seen these people? Have you seen what they did?”

  He had me there, but I raised one eyebrow. “You’re not one of them?”

  “No. Not anymore.”

  ‘Not anymore’? What did that mean? Before I had a chance to ask, El came forward to embrace his daughter. Keri cried out, drawing the attention of some space hippies nearby. Clearly, the last thing the girl wanted to do was to go to her dad. I put a hand on his chest and pushed him back. “Not now, El. We need to get her out of here and clean out her system. Let Cal see to her.” I turned to Calesius. “Time for a decision,” I said. “What’s the best way out of here?”

  “I was just debating that. I think it’s gotta be through the media area. They’ve got trucks for all the equipment back there. Mobile control rooms. A lot of VIP cars are parked back there too.”