CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE
Chapter Ten
PAGE FOUR OF FIVE
“Do you understand what this implies? If one is to understand the Genesis fable for what it is - a coding of our own evolutionary processes - then what we have here is a record showing that humanity originated as an entity of both genders, present in a single, perfect being. A hermaphrodite.”
Armstrong recoils at the mention of this word. During his training he had been educated as to the existence of such individuals, had even seen the photos taken in hospitals and labs, in cages and in morgues. These represented some sort of genetic mutation, freaks of nature, not the original state of humanity itself. He wants to express his disgust, wondering if this is some sort of test, but finds himself unable to form any words at just this moment. The garden stirs lightly around the Director's absolutely motionless eyes.
“What it must have been like,” the Director whispers, “To have been so... complete.”
Then the Director releases Armstrong from his stare and looks away, up through the trees and towards the sky. Armstrong shifts his feet, testing his newfound sense of... freedom? He turns to look at the assistant, only to find that she is gone. Slipped away, into the shadows of the garden... He looks back at the Director and tries to remain calm.
The Director speaks up to the blue sky above. “Of course this would have been at a point when we were no more than a single cell organism. But you see how the analogy fits. A single cell – one being, one gender. The cellular walls forming a sort of garden, a microcosm within which all of the possibilities of Life itself exist as one. A state of perpetual bliss.” The Director lowers his face from the sky. “But of course, Nature insists Her principles upon this state, and applying the simplest form of geometric force, sets all possibilities onto the path of their eventual realization. The cell divides into two – the first separation; Adam's rib, transformed into Eve. However, since this took place within it's own cellular walls, this First Division could have remained this way in perpetuity, had Nature not once again moved against Perfection.
“She introduces a Virus, which then penetrates the cellular wall – the Serpent, offering the fruit of knowledge. This disrupts the stasis of duality, and causes the cells to now multiply continuously, past the walls of the Original Cell. “ The Director smiles, sadly.
“Exile from the Garden.”
And now the Director is lifting his weight off of the railing, and he has once again turned his attention back towards Armstrong. He extends his short arms outwards, and his rubbery face stretches into a grim smile. “And so begins a tragic, painful, terrible process of Life moving outward away from itself, of division and multiplication and the inevitable alienation that it produces within the very Soul of Reality itself.” The Director begins to step forward, towards Armstrong. His feet are small and produce a light tapping sound against the floorboards of the bridge.“A process that for all of it's terror cannot be denied it's beauty, cannot be ignored for the wonders that it produces.”
Armstrong wants to back away from the Director. Something is wrong here, something is very wrong... He thinks he knows where he has met the Director before, where he has looked into those eyes before. But he doesn't want to admit this to himself, to face the reality that is slowly walking towards him. He just wants to run away. He doesn't know where, just turn around and start running and keep running. Forever. Instead he holds his ground.
The Director steps off the lip of the bridge and onto the cobblestone path. His arms are still held outward at his sides, and his smile has smoothed into an expression of angelic bliss. His voice softly spins out like filaments of silk, touching lightly against Armstrong's mind. “This is the way of the world, the need to break away and grow to our fullest maturity and potential. And we have been growing away from each other for such a very long time...
“But now.” The Director says, stepping up closely to Armstrong, only a few feet between them, the gap closing, closing.. “Now the time has come for us to return to ourselves, to the original cell."
Armstrong recoils at the mention of this word. During his training he had been educated as to the existence of such individuals, had even seen the photos taken in hospitals and labs, in cages and in morgues. These represented some sort of genetic mutation, freaks of nature, not the original state of humanity itself. He wants to express his disgust, wondering if this is some sort of test, but finds himself unable to form any words at just this moment. The garden stirs lightly around the Director's absolutely motionless eyes.
“What it must have been like,” the Director whispers, “To have been so... complete.”
Then the Director releases Armstrong from his stare and looks away, up through the trees and towards the sky. Armstrong shifts his feet, testing his newfound sense of... freedom? He turns to look at the assistant, only to find that she is gone. Slipped away, into the shadows of the garden... He looks back at the Director and tries to remain calm.
The Director speaks up to the blue sky above. “Of course this would have been at a point when we were no more than a single cell organism. But you see how the analogy fits. A single cell – one being, one gender. The cellular walls forming a sort of garden, a microcosm within which all of the possibilities of Life itself exist as one. A state of perpetual bliss.” The Director lowers his face from the sky. “But of course, Nature insists Her principles upon this state, and applying the simplest form of geometric force, sets all possibilities onto the path of their eventual realization. The cell divides into two – the first separation; Adam's rib, transformed into Eve. However, since this took place within it's own cellular walls, this First Division could have remained this way in perpetuity, had Nature not once again moved against Perfection.
“She introduces a Virus, which then penetrates the cellular wall – the Serpent, offering the fruit of knowledge. This disrupts the stasis of duality, and causes the cells to now multiply continuously, past the walls of the Original Cell. “ The Director smiles, sadly.
“Exile from the Garden.”
And now the Director is lifting his weight off of the railing, and he has once again turned his attention back towards Armstrong. He extends his short arms outwards, and his rubbery face stretches into a grim smile. “And so begins a tragic, painful, terrible process of Life moving outward away from itself, of division and multiplication and the inevitable alienation that it produces within the very Soul of Reality itself.” The Director begins to step forward, towards Armstrong. His feet are small and produce a light tapping sound against the floorboards of the bridge.“A process that for all of it's terror cannot be denied it's beauty, cannot be ignored for the wonders that it produces.”
Armstrong wants to back away from the Director. Something is wrong here, something is very wrong... He thinks he knows where he has met the Director before, where he has looked into those eyes before. But he doesn't want to admit this to himself, to face the reality that is slowly walking towards him. He just wants to run away. He doesn't know where, just turn around and start running and keep running. Forever. Instead he holds his ground.
The Director steps off the lip of the bridge and onto the cobblestone path. His arms are still held outward at his sides, and his smile has smoothed into an expression of angelic bliss. His voice softly spins out like filaments of silk, touching lightly against Armstrong's mind. “This is the way of the world, the need to break away and grow to our fullest maturity and potential. And we have been growing away from each other for such a very long time...
“But now.” The Director says, stepping up closely to Armstrong, only a few feet between them, the gap closing, closing.. “Now the time has come for us to return to ourselves, to the original cell."
DESMOND CHAPTER TEN