24. Plotweaver #4
“I am a man who does what I see fit. People throughout all time have created these wasted labels to attach them to one cause or another. For this purpose, I am a Beacon, but that is not all I am. The word is meaningless. All this really is in the greater expanse. You are so young to have committed yourself to such a waste.”
“You want this world to end then? Wouldn’t that spoil your pursuit of pleasure?”
”’Ending’ is another wasted word. I did not die before, I will not die again. Hedonism and zen join in my mind. There can be no true pleasure until the universe is at peace. The things I do are glimpses at that greater nirvana.”
“And that balance requires the destruction of this world? Do you even grasp what you are saying?”
“Would you let ants decide what peace means for humanity? Do they have any say in this war in Arabasia? Would you like to let them voice their opinion?”
“Is that all we are to you?” Naoma asked. “Ants?”
“You? That is another matter. Him? And any other human who thinks they understand the cosmos? Yes! Even I am but an ant.“ He stared straight into my eyes. “You’ve seen him, haven’t you? You didn’t just annoy Nichley but went one step further. Am I wrong?”
“Did your colleague really not tell you anything?” Naoma asked. I was still stuck deciding how to answer him.
“We’ve already gone over this, haven’t we? That coward retreated before he could even see how far you went.” He focused back on me. “You saw the fetus.”
I nodded.
“If only you could understand what glory you beheld. But why am I telling you all of this? Why give up? Oh, I am far from surrendering. I am merely telling you what you need to know to turn back before you hurt too many people. That’s all this path will bring you.
Pain to you and everyone you touch.“ He eyed Naoma.
I didn’t care how twisted his logic was. Even if he saw good in what he was doing, he was right. The path to the end would be paved in blood and tears, shed by the dearest people to me.
How many of us could make it until the end?
I didn’t want to think about that. Now was not the time or place to reconsider my life. I needed assurance now more than ever. “Who are you?”
“I am exactly who I say I am.”
“Who is Zhou?”
“Shou,“ he corrected. “It is not a name of endearment but my very name. Shāng Wáng Shòu, the last King of China’s great Shang Dynasty. After my death, I was called Dì Xīn by some. I may have died before, but the collapse of the old Earth was not the reason.”
I looked at Naoma, eyebrows tented in confusion.
“How long have you been living in this body?” she asked.
“A few decades, enough to—“
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“How so?”
“Zhou’s bones would have died with the old Earth.”
“What good is an organization without a proper historian to collect such important relics?”
“Explain or I’m going to rip out that tube.”
His voice went higher. “Have you met the Correction yet?”
“Yes,” I lied.
“Then you know what they keep in those vaults. That and so much more.”
She eyed me. It was best to keep it at that until Ralia and I could explore whatever we found at the end of the neurocore journey. I felt an itch to use the “realignment” file she had sent me.
“Why you?” she asked.
“What do you mean?” he replied.
“What does some ancient king have to do with this?”
“Pleasure. That is all one needs in entertainment.”
Naoma sent me a message.
Naoma: A quick search on the neuronet shows that he was a tyrant known for debauchery and an absence of morals. Who better to run the entertainment side of the tide?
Petya: Are you being sarcastic?
Naoma: No, I’m serious. If you need someone who can lull the public through entertainment, he knows the pleasures more than most. To build a legacy on debauchery fits it well.
It takes a hedonist to make a nation of them.
If he claims to understand the essence of pleasure, he knows how to inspire it in others.
Most humans today aren’t like you. They’re simple creatures that feed their pleasures and look for nothing more in life.
That is what entertainment thrives on: finding what creatures pleasure and using that for gain.
Learn how to please and you can control the mass. That’s why he writes the plots.
Petya: You kept talking with him about those “plots.” What does that mean?
“You see it now, don’t you?” He pulled me away from the messages. “Life is simple and you’re overcomplicating it with a false heroism that will get you killed.”
I shook my head and returned back to my neurospace.
Naoma: That’s what his Dynasty is. I had heard about him before but my conversations with him after you passed out solidified my understanding.
The Violet elites, like the Hollywood you hear about in those stories of the old earth, is a society of stories used to move the public.
Give them these false gods to worship through music and mindshows and they will move with them.
Petya: I always thought it was tragic to see so many people base their lives on mindshow actors whose very job is to lie for a living.
Naoma: Exactly. Relationships between stars to stir up drama, fabrications written by Zhou and his people to get people more invested in these elites and their products.
Conspiracy theories and similar scandals aimed at certain elites?
Those are written to those who betray the Dynasty.
Philanthropy and political activism? Stories to make the public adore these liars like you said.
None of these people are living real lives.
They are doing what Zhou says to raise his empire, kingdom, or whatever it is.
It’s the tide. All of these schemes and stories that breed devotion for false gods are aimed at raising the Gondtide.
Petya: And you were part of that?
Naoma: I can’t even guess how many narratives I was a part of.
Petya: But you’re out of it. Let’s use that.
I exited the neurospace and spoke to Zhou. “Who is Naoma?”
His laugh was an unsettling squeak. “The girl right next to you.”
“What was her plot?”
His beady eyes continued to stare, making his subtle smile all the more frustrating.
“You talked about my past when we were walking to the lake of wine,” she said. “You know where I’m from.”
“I do.”
“What am I? You said I am ‘another matter’ when comparing everyone to ants. The white light I used to crack open your shell. The lack of a past in my memory. I want answers.”
“I do not see any purpose in that.”
“I’ll pull your tube.”
“I can bear suffering, should it be necessary.”
“Then why were you talking so openly before?”
“Because, like I said, the more you understand the Gongtide and its significance for all existence–not just humanity–the less unnecessary pain you will cause to the world.”
“What? That doesn’t make sense. You know we’re not going to bow before your god–”
He wheezed out a laugh. “Time changes opinions.”
“It doesn’t change the truth. Why were you so candid about my past before?”
“Oh, I never shared anything you did not know. You’re of Arabasian birth, anyone with eyes can see that.”
“It doesn’t mean I was born there.”
“That fact makes little difference. You’re going to kill me anyway. I am fine taking this narrative to my grave.”
She groaned, shaking her head in frustration.
I placed my hand on her shoulder. “Let’s just take him back.”
“What do you mean?”
I looked at the homunculus, still feeling a perpetual disgust at the creature’s existence. “Why kill him when we can take him back to the monastery?”
“Why?”
“I’m sure we can work with Ral to find some way to crack him. What is better than another dead Beacon on our list?”
“One we can use ourselves.”
“Exactly.”
We both turned to look at the shrunken humanoid.
“Fools. That is all you are. You are as the ancient Sisyphus; you cannot push the tide to the top of the mountain. It will always win. Entropy. Fate. This is what happens because humans are foolish enough to plague the Earth again with the same filth that destroyed the last one.
I ignored his ramblings and entered my neurospace.
Petya: Hihow. We need help.
Raia: Need a ride home?
Petya: Yeah, send Abbas and maybe the other two to help. We’ve got a more complex situation this time.
Ralia: Sure, babe. Shoot it.
Petya: Do you know how to interrogate someone without a neurospace? This one won’t crack.
Ralia: It’ll be a new challenge, but I’m sure we can make it work. What’s the deal?
Petya: How would you like to have your very own Beacon of the Gongtide?