the deconstructionists

6

2007-10-24T09:58:00.000+02:00

The Federationist advantage was obvious from the beginning of the war. Over 80% of domestic armed forces, including the entirety of the officer’s corps, with a handful of notable exceptions, stayed loyal to the central government. Federationist territory encompassed 67% of the country’s industrial plant. And they had the talent of unity their enemies lacked. Ohio, Minnesota and Oregon were invaded while Kilor was still arguing institutional restructuring with his lieutenants. The defense lines in Baltimore barely held. Most of the waterfront district was destroyed in a series of cruise missile attacks.

The DUF would have collapsed altogether if not for the uprisings in the Pacific Northwest and northern California, where eco-terrorist groups and anarchist flying columns led a large scale arming of the urban population. By July, Seattle, Berkeley, San Francisco, and several Oregon cities were in full revolt. But the rebels had no popular support outside of the large cities. Their only success was in distracting the Federationists long enough to allow the DUF to finish consolidating itself. The major cities were cordoned off by armored units and then bombed from the air. The infantry units moved in afterwards, mostly for the purpose of cleaning the bodies out. Only Seattle held out for longer than a week. Fighting was street to street. It culminated in running gun battles through the financial district, which was finally finished off by artillery fire. A famous photograph showed six anarchists in a burned out Starbucks. Their heads were wrapped in black bandanas. Most of their brains were spattered across the scorched walls. A blackened body behind the espresso machine clutched an AK-47 in a fleshless hand. Most of its intestines were on the cash register.

Worldwide satellite broadcasts showed the survivors being marched out of the burning landscape flanked by tanks. Huge crowds surrounded them at the city borders and threw bottles and rotting fruit at them. A fifteen year old grenade maker in a t-shirt with “Power to the People” written on it was severely beaten by an eighty year old woman with a cane. Foreign journalists later discovered that the boy belonged to an eco-terror cell that had forced the woman from her house at gunpoint and turned it into a makeshift bomb factory.

Contrary to popular myth, there was no mass slaughter of refugees by Federationist supporters. Despite Kilor’s televised speeches about “imminent gas chambers”, he was already in secret negotiations with the RFC over the possibility of mass repatriation. The RFC had no interest in feeding and housing several hundred thousand refugees. They even agreed to provide the trucks. It took three months to accomplish the biggest mass population transfer since World War II a hundred and twenty years before. Every half hour for three months an army truck rolled across the border and disgorged another mass of petulant humanity into refugee camps in New York, Philidelphia, Newark, and a thousand others dotting the eastern seaboard.

A cease fire was negotiated in 2058. The RFC believed it to be the prelude to total capitulation. In fact, Kilor was already secretly organizing the Refugee Brigades.

The Refugee Brigades were entirely made up of survivors of the Western Rebellion, and were entirely the product of Kilor’s genius. He had immediately guessed the capacities of traumatized, starving, homeless masses of young people for acts of extraordinarily savage violence. Kilor organized them into storm trooper units based in the refugee camps themselves. The new soldiers were exhorted by their new generals to the cause of revenge. Revenge on those who had driven them from their homes, who had killed their families, annihilated their lives. They were called to take a pint of Federalist blood for every brick of their abandoned homes. To turn their unspeakable loss into an indescribable bloodbath. “Three Hundred Thousand Exiles, Three Hundred Thousand Guns, Three Hundred Thousand Federationist Dead!” was their most famous slogan. It was shown every hour on the hour on television screens across the DUF, usually accompanied by a computer animated clip of a Federalist soldier having his skull smashed in and his brains scooped out and eaten by a family of starving refugees.

The Refugee Brigades served as frontline troops on ever major front when Kilor broke the cease fire in July.

They became legendary overnight.

Suicide squads dressed in oversized uniforms filled with TNT and nails dipped in cyanide broke the Federationist perimeter around Cincinnati. Nearly a thousand Federationist troops were killed in a single night by two Refugee units outside Columbus, Ohio. The bodies of the Federationists were hacked to pieces with shovels, photographed by official DUF media units, then thrown into the Mississippi River. In the most outstanding example of Kilor’s ironic sense of humor, the images were broadcast directly to the Republican Federation by the official DUF satellite channel. The Refugee Brigades withstood a 70% casualty rate during the reconquest of Chicago. Most of the city was reduced to rubble. The media units used a helicopter to photograph an entire platoon atop the ruins of the Sears Tower, waving the DUF flag and firing their weapons into the stratosphere in triumph. It was later revealed that only two of them survived.

But it was the Battle of the District that truly created the legend of the Refugee Brigades. The reconquest of the District was Kilor’s waking dream. He wanted to return in triumph to the Capitol which had expelled him only a few months before, when the world seemed sane, and the events which followed impossible. He wanted it at any price. And block by block, street by street, corpse by corpse, the District became a Mephistophelean inferno of flares, tracer bullets, laser sights, muzzle flashes, bursting shells, erupting incendiaries, and the spitting, bursting plumes of exploding bodies. It was nicknamed the Devil’s Slaughterhouse. Piles of corpses filled the gutted streets. Insects, rodents, cats, dogs, and an encyclopedia of bacterial organisms fed on the severed limbs and rancid flesh. The stench of putrefying skin and rotted organs permeated the air until people began spontaneously vomiting into the sidewalks and garbage cans. Even this desperate concession to modesty was soon abandoned, and the streets filled with the detritus of collective nausea. DUF extraction units finally requisitioned and confiscated a fleet of municipal garbage trucks and outfitted them with armored plates. The Federationists used a barrage of Stinger missiles on them. The stench of burning rubber and gasoline temporarily overcame the stink of decomposition.

By the time exhaustion set in two months later, neither side had gained more than a few yards in either direction. Kilor decided to force the stalemate. He threatened a renewed offensive through secret channels. The Federationists threatened to respond with tactical nuclear weapons. Before long, they both started to talk about a cease-fire.

Initial meetings took place in the no-man’s land around the Jefferson Memorial. The regular field commanders were the participants. They all knew that a de-facto ceasefire had existed since the failure of the Refugee Brigades to pierce the Federationist defense line at DuPont Circle. The issue at hand was where the official Division Line would be drawn.

It became a wall and not a line. Officially, it was named the Jefferson Wall, after the location of the first negotiations. The official name never caught on. People called it the Division Line. It was two miles long and twelve feet high. A winding labyrinth of concrete, barbed wire, electric fencing, motion sensors, guard towers and security cameras. The final settlement left the Capitol building and most of the Mall in Federationist territory. The Refugee Brigades salved their wounds by raising the DUF flag over the remains of the White House and turning them into a permanent military headquarters. Kilor made a series of public statements pledging to move the DUF government to the District. He knew that such a move would have provoked an identical act on the part of the Federationist, and perhaps renewed fighting. It was a clear violation of the ceasefire agreement. He stayed in Manhattan and so did his government. It is considered likely that he intended to do so all along. The Federationists let the issue die. Moving their seat of government from LA was prohibitively expensive, and they had no grievances with the final settlement. They maintained control over the West District, which contained the major historical sites and the strategic advantage. Despite occasional exhortations to “liberate the East District” from some of the more bellicose Federationist politicians, no such plans were ever pursued. The Refugee Brigades followed a similar path. They sang songs about “sleeping tomorrow night in old Abe Lincoln’s lap” and raised flags that read “One People, One War, One District”, but the generals and Kilor knew that the DUF had only held the East District by the skin of its teeth. Intelligence reports indicated that the RFC was more than serious about a nuclear exchange. The Refugee Brigades had taught them the value of savagery. Nothing happened.

There was sporadic fighting along the ceasefire lines outside the District. Mostly in disputed territories like western Illinois and the upper Great Lakes, including a handful of skirmishes along the Ohio border. But there was nothing to match the slaughterhouse of the previous three years. No peace treaty was ever signed. The partition was accepted on a de-facto basis by both sides. Ironically, the shape of the respective territories was almost exactly that which had been predicted by Pelman. Excepting, of course, the vagaries of war. This was not predicted by Pelman. Pelman did not predict war at all.

This raised the uncomfortable thought among the post-schism intellectuals who finally noticed Pelman’s work. They were forced to entertain the disturbing thought that it was inevitable. That it was not worth fighting about in the first place.

History has a terrible capacity to state the obvious.

5

2007-10-08T09:57:00.000+02:00

There is not and never will be an objective account of the Schism. Historians will waste centuries foisting their pretensions upon the subject. That which was once impossible will be declared inevitable. Architectures of thought will be constructed. And events will disappear.

The process has already begun. Origins are being discovered in the Civil War, the Continental Congress, in the beginnings of European settlement in North America. Bifurcations are being examined. Paradoxes exploited. The present makes a slave of the past. As memory dies. History makes its home upon the grave of memory. And catastrophe becomes words.

Here, my only living companion is memory.

In my dreams it begins in 2057. The words do not agree.

The others call it the “Pelman Mythos”. Some call it the truth. They remember words better than I.

Arthur Pelman was an obscure professor of political economy at Fordham University in the first half of the 21^st century. In 2045 he published a book entitled “Slouching Towards Apocalypse”, the title being a tedious play on Yeats. The rough beast slouching towards Bethlehem would later make Pelman into “the prophet of the Schism”. The book itself went almost completely unnoticed at the time of its publication.

Pelman’s thesis was not complicated: given current trends in economics, cultural mores, religion, natural resources, legal precedent and political philosophy, the inescapable conclusion was that the United States was swiftly becoming two separate countries. Divisions were forming which showed no signs of receding and were fundamentally unbridgeable. The center and south of the United States, as well as several large portions of the Western states were increasingly religious, mistrustful of professional politics, industrially inclined and ill-disposed towards centralized government. The demimonde regarded material gain as a positive virtue and avoided its attendant spiritual emptiness by their enthusiastic faith in a living divine presence which was an immediate and palpable influence on their lives. They admired individual courage and disliked deviations from established norms. Despite their traditionalist mores, they nonetheless harbored an ethic of militant individualism which manifested itself in an emotional hatred for politically imposed restrictions. This dynamic paradox was driving an increasingly coherent and uniform culture which was taking on attributes of a separatist nationalism.

The northeast and Pacific Northwest, as well as many of the states bordering Canada, displayed a mirror image of their counterparts. Fanatically secular to the point of atheism, predominately urban and therefore inherently collectivist, confident in the capacities of the political sector to manage social and economic complexities, they derided materialism and tended towards admiration for the secular arts and humanities as a salve for the inherent spiritual malaise of an irreligious society. They were excited by the unusual and eccentric, and harbored a strong reverence for the unconventional. They lived out an equal and opposite paradox to their counterparts. The paradox of cultural individualism and political conformity.

The most surprising of Pelman’s findings was the fact that, despite their cultural reverence for non-conformity, political opinions were more uniform in the north and east than in the south and central west. On both sides of the divide, the dynamic paradox was pushing the regional blocs into a militant uniformity suggestive of an emerging state. And these states were moving in entirely opposite directions from their double and opposite.

“It is now certain,” Pelman wrote in his conclusion, “that the consolidation of these regional-cultural-political blocs into coherent and entirely separate political entities cannot be prevented and is likely not desirable. We can expect a slow but increasingly public bifurcation between these two blocs in the very near future. Ultimately, the mutual advantage of a formal partition will become obvious to leaders on both sides. When and where the document will be signed is impossible to predict, but when it is signed it will be to the mutual benefit of two amicable, but nonetheless essentially different and separate nations.”

Pelman was prescient, but he was not a prophet. He was not even much of a historian. Despite ample precedent, he failed completely to predict the slaughter that was coming. I have counted only a handful of incidental references and footnotes in “Slouching Towards Apocalypse” that make mention of the rapid growth of liberationist militias in the south and central regions, and the concomitant activities of eco-terror groups and urban anarchist cells in the northeast and west. On page 169 he makes the unfortunate statement that “there is no doubt that these groups are a fringe phenomenon of no significant impact and will continue to be so. Nonetheless, they are indications of more significant and eventually decisive trends.” Despite his reputation, Pelman failed to prophesy the integration of these groups and their ideologies into the regular army units which quickly chose sides when the moment came.

Two years after his books unsuccessful publication Pelman died of liver cancer. He never saw the events of 2057. A fact which has been much to the benefit of his posthumous reputation.

The official breaking point was the debate over Commemoration. The original bill was introduced in late 2056 by Garson Kilor, senator from Vermont and head of the congressional delegation from the Democratic Unity Front. The proposed Kilor Commemoration Bill of 2056 declared that 2068 would be the Centennial Commemoration of Countercultural Uprising. A year of official events and ceremonies would mark the events of 1968. These included parades, national holidays and reenactments of historical events. Bobby Seale day was to be recognized on February 8^th. August would be Black Panther Month. The Symbionese Liberation Army Memorial weekend would replace Memorial Day. Official holidays were proposed to mark the founding of the SLA, the SDS, the Weather Underground, and the Baader Meinhoff group. Martyr’s day, an official day of national mourning, was to mark the combined assassinations of Robert Kennedy, Martin Luthor King, and Huey P. Newton, as well as Salvador Allende and “all other victims of counter-revolutionary violence and state terrorism.” The president was expected to attend Newton’s reinternment in the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier in Arlington National Cemetery. The unknown soldier himself was to be moved to a newly designed memorial plot honoring the Unknown Victims of Imperialist Warmongering.

The year’s events were to culminate in a full scale reenactment of the 1968 Chicago riots. Actors were to be hired to play the assembled protestors and stuntmen to act as the rampaging riot police. A pyrotechnics team would be hired at great expense to simulate the tear gas, spurting blood, protruding bones, and other effects required by historical authenticity. A noted stage actor was recommended for the role of Hubert Humphrey.

Kilor introduced his bill with a speech in which he called the proposal “a too long delayed celebration of the tradition of dissent which makes this country great.” Bernard Thurman, leader of the Republican Federationist Coalition, rose almost immediately afterwards to call it “a reprehensible attempt to grant official sanction to ideologies and actions of treason.” The shouts of denunciation and approval were of equal measure. By the end of the week, the DUF had given notice of their attentions to boycott the next congressional session if the bill was not brought to a vote. The next day the RFC made a similar statement, with opposite intentions. Unless the bill was immediately withdrawn not a single party member would set foot on the floor of the Capitol. Upon his return to Vermont, Kilor was hailed as an uncompromising and courageous leader. He was burned in effigy in Atlanta and Dallas.

There were a handful of attempts at a compromise. Most notably, the Wehauken Summit called by president Flaherty. Despite his reputation as a moderate, Flaherty’s membership in the RFC likely destroyed any possibility of compromise from the outset. The DUF had spent a lifetime worshipping their grandparents. Compromise was unthinkable.

Pelman’s thesis was borne out by subsequent political developments. The DFU demanded an immediate floor vote. The RFC agreed. The bill lost. The vote went entirely along regional party lines. The DUF abandoned its initial demands in favor of a more extreme position. They announced their intention to boycott the next congressional session if the bill was not immediately ratified. Remarks were heard from the other side of the aisle referring to “legislative terrorism”. Exception was taken. The speeches dragged well into the night on the last day of the legislative session. At 3:30 am, his tie undone and his shirt stained with coffee, senator Kilor rose before a packed chamber of dozing legislators and gave his now legendary “consent of the governed” speech.

“The consent of the governed,” he said, “is irrelevant. Must be irrelevant to what is historically true and morally correct. If democracy cannot bring itself to recognize such elementary values as justice and truth, then democracy be damned! And damned be the United States as well!”

Kilor and the DUF delegation left the hall to cries of “treason!” and a small number of flying projectiles, mostly pens and ashtrays. They were escoted from the capitol by capitol police. This was necessary because of the pandemonium which had erupted in the District streets, with protestors from both sides hurling insults and, by the end of the night, Molotov cocktails across the police barricades.

At 4:56 am the M street barricades collapsed, and the crowds surged over each other in an orgiastic explosion of flying limbs and screaming wounded. The National Guard in full riot gear dispersed the crowd with tear gas and rubber bullets. Kilor no doubt appreciated the irony. Ten people were killed.

Two days later, the DUF secretariat published the Manhattan Statement. Rumor held and holds today that it was predominately written by Kilor. Citing the “police mass slaughter” of two days before, it concluded that “the farce called American democracy can no longer be maintained.”

The country had reached the precipice moment. It is here that Pelman’s thesis collapses.

This was not immediately apparent. The three months following the riot and the publication of the Manhattan Statement has now been named the Interregnum. It was the period of uneasy calm before the inferno. Historians have made comparisons between the Interregnum and the “false war” of 1939-40. This is not entirely accurate. Paramilitary units on both sides were arming at alarming rates. It has now been conclusively established that most of the weaponry was supplied by sympathetic National Guard units. President Flaherty quietly recalled 70% of the country’s overseas forces to the homeland. He was too late. They had been watching the news. Individual gun sales skyrocketed. America’s nuclear arsenal was secretly taken off its automated mainframe and placed under the direct control of the president. Kilor was rumored to be hiding in upstate New York, allegedly convinced that the FBI was plotting his assassination.

Flaherty was determined to make his plea for peaceful resolution. He was an idealist. The DUF had already delivered its Notification of Non-Participation in the 2057 legislative session declaring “representative democracy is the enemy of the people.” In response, the RFC petitioned the president for the immediate arrest of Kilor and the DUF leadership on charges of treason. They refused to take their seats until the demand was met.

The president decided to take his plea directly to the people. From the steps of the empty Capitol.

On 25 March, Flaherty mounted the steps to spit in the face of history. Standing behind a dais draped with the American flag and the seal of the president of the United States, he faced a weeping crowd holding signs pleading for reconciliation. Prominently displayed on television screens the world over was a twelve year old girl in the front row. She held a hand lettered sign on yellow cardboard which read “Don’t Tear Us Apart”. Those who witnessed what followed claimed that there were noticeable tears in the president’s eyes as he waved to her and put his hand in his inside pocket to remove the 4x10 index cards on which he had written his speech. His aides later claimed that it contained several quotes from Lincoln.

Eric McCandless was three yards away at the time. At the edge of the crowd. Leaning on a motorcycle. He was twenty-two years old and arson charges against him stemming from a fire which had leveled an entire Wisconson housing development had recently been dropped for lack of evidence. He was a member of Warriors for Gaia, an eco-terrorist group which was known for blowing up park ranger jeeps and setting fire to lumber factories. Their last manifesto declared that “The human race is the virus of the earth. We are the cure.” His motorcycle contained over two thousand pounds of explosives packed with nails and ball bearings. When he pressed the detonator, it killed himself, forty-five bystanders, the last president of the United States, and the twelve year old girl. She was never officially identified. An urban legend contends that her name was Faith. I think this is unlikely.

By midnight, 26 March, regular army units loyal to the RFC had occupied the District and declared martial law. A warrant was issued for Kilor’s immediate arrest on charges of treason and conspiring to kill the president of the United States. At seven o’clock that morning the DUF formally declared the Union dissolved and declared New York City its temporary capital. Garson Kilor was declared acting president of an emergency DUF war government. The northeast and northwest states joined them almost immediately. The southern states seceded for a second time on 30 March. The Midwest followed them a day later. By 2 April, both California and Maryland had been invaded by RFC forces, determined to prevent secession. The Democratic Union declared itself an independent state on 15 April. Three hours later the Republican Federation did the same. The United States ceased to exist.

4

2007-09-18T09:55:00.000+02:00

Patient Zero had disappeared from the public stage following his initial brush with fame. Under the spotlight he had always emphasized his desire to embrace the miracle of normalcy. His celebrity was a temporary state of affairs, undertaken in the cause of Valintism. Soon to be abandoned once the new revelation had taken hold.

He was true to his word. After a year of whirlwind publicity and worldwide fascination, he vanished.

He did not vanish. He vanished in the historical sense. He dropped out. He became a normal American citizen. He married Julia Menken, founder and president of his fan club, and took up residence in a northern New Jersey suburb. He went to night school, where he excelled, and received a degree in business administration. He was licensed as a CPA. He and his new wife eventually had two children. A boy named Derek and a girl named Valint. She was mercifully referred to as Val. The young family bought a two story house on a tree lined street in a town of identical two story houses and tree lined streets. He worked for the local bank. Julia became a homemaker who dabbled in real estate. The children went to public school. They owned a German shepherd. The occasional request for a follow up interview was always turned down. Nothing disturbed Patient Zero’s normality. Perhaps the most hard-earned normality in human history.

The police were called at 7:55 am on Tuesday, December 12. As is normally the case, the neighbors complained of an unpleasant smell.

They found the door unlocked and the front parlor deserted. Patient Zero was discovered sitting on his living room sofa watching daytime television. The German shepherd lay next to him. Its head lay on a frying pan in the kitchen. White neck bones were visible through the ragged flesh.

Julia was also in the kitchen. Her skull was shattered on the left side by several blows from a blunt object. The blunt object was an aluminum bat. It was resting against the stove. It was streaked with blood and white matter. On which a cloud of flies were feeding.

Derek was upstairs in his bed. The blanket and been pulled down and the boy’s chest ripped open. Apparently with bare hands. The heart had been removed. It was never found. The police concluded that his father had ingested the organ.

Valint was in the bathroom. She had been drowned in six inches of water in the bathtub. Except for the inevitable bloating and discoloration her body was undamaged.

The murderer himself was singularly disturbing. He denied nothing. He answered all questions with impressive precision. As he did so, the true horror began to reveal itself.

Pateient Zero had never graduated night school, despite his obvious intelligence. His CPA license was acquired through forged papers and hacking into the municipal computer system. In the days following his arrest, the bank where he worked began to untangle the astoundingly complicated web of thievery and embezzlement woven by their star employee over the course of half a decade. The sum of 3.5 million dollars was eventually recovered. Investigators estimated that this likely amounted to less than one third of the actual amount. The remainder was secreted in anonymous and perpetually dormant bank accounts, collecting eternal interest in Switzerland and the Cayman Islands.

There was more. The two story house on the tree lined street was triple mortgaged under five different names. His children’s college funds had been siphoned off. His wife’s stock portfolio was in his own name and that of several aliases. All of them anagrams of Derek Valint. His entire family had been the engine of a massive fraud.

The money did not go unspent. There were frequent calls from his cell phone to a five thousand dollar a night escort service. Generally, between three and five girls were ordered at any one time. His body showed signs of a regular and massive intake of cocaine and barbiturates. His frequent “business trips” to the Far East were high priced sex tours. Generally geared towards the traffic in extremely underage girls.

This discovery led the case to its hideous climax. With the aid of Interpol and the FBI, police began to draw unavoidable connections between Patient Zero’s frequent travels and a serious of unsolved murders of young prostitutes in Thailand and Burma. All of them under the age of sixteen. Two of them were eleven years old. All had been battered to death. Their chests had been ripped open. Internal organs were often missing. In three cases, the heads had been removed and placed in a frying pan on the kitchen stove.

The modus operandi was the deciding factor. The conclusion was clear: Patient Zero was a homicidal psychopath. And had been for a very long time.

Implications were no longer. They had arrived at the absolute of murder.

Initially, it was believed that Patient Zero had simply reverted to his previous state of derangement. Doubts were almost immediately raised. An historical examination of his case revealed that Patient Zero had never displayed homicidal tendencies despite his intense schizophrenia. His only violent actions had been self-directed. The team of police psychiatrists who examined him following his arrest discounted the possibility of regression. Patient Zero was pathological in the extreme, but he showed no signs of dissociation. In fact, they had never seen a more integrated personality.

The full magnitude of what had occurred became clear only with Doctor Valint’s testimony at the trial. Patient Zero’s lawyer had decided, despite his client’s objections, to plead temporary insanity. This would be the first time that the terms “precipice moment” and “auto-personal deconstruction” were heard by the general public.

Contrary to the myths that continue to surround the incident, Doctor Valint did not dissent from the official diagnosis. Patient Zero was certainly an extraordinarily integrated personality. But he was very far from normal. He displayed extremes of behavior which could only be described as unique in their configuration and integration. These included a near total disregard for personal danger. A total lack of compassion for and identification which his fellow human beings. A startlingly rapid capacity for analytical thought. An almost total lack of such elementary emotions as sadness, joy, or anger. And, of course, a propensity for sudden and exceptionally brutal acts of spontaneous violence. His primary reaction to his surroundings was a studied indifference leaning towards outright contempt.

Neither the court nor the millions watching the live satellite and internet broadcasts were shocked by this testimony.

It was Valint’s second day on the stand that set off the explosion. Despite the fact that some of the Doctor’s more devoted disciples pointed out, after the fact and with the benefit of hindsight, but nonetheless correctly, that there had been numerous anticipations of Doctor Valint’s statements in his earlier work.

The Doctor testified the following: Patient Zero was no longer completely human. Biologically he remained the same. His genetic structure could not be differentiated from that of normal human beings. Nonetheless, asserted the Doctor, the subject was something else entirely. Something for which we did not yet have a name.

If the historical dialectic proposed by Valintism was correct, and humanity had defined itself through its terror of death, then our civilization, including our spoken and unspoken moral laws, all drew their origin from this initial realization of mortality and its concomitant angst.

Patient Zero’s existence had an entirely different and unique origin. It was L61938. The previous basis could have no meaning for him.

Death was not an unknown and unknowable phenomenon for Patient Zero. He had experienced it personally. Thus, non-existence had become an inalienable part of his personal history. Existence and non-existence had integrated themselves in the psyche of Patient Zero. A phenomenon previously unknown in human history.

The result was an infantile state. The total breakdown and reconstitution of the personality. Valint referred to the phenomenon with the term “auto-personal deconstruction”. This process began with the initial return from the effects of L61938 and reached its climax with a “precipice moment”, at which the entirety of the subjects socially and historically determined attributes collapsed entirely as a result of his alienation from their origin. The result was the annihilation of the personality and its total alienation from normal human society.

Patient Zero had committed his crime precisely at this precipice moment.

Doctor Valint freely admitted that the next stage of the process, “auto-personal reconstruction”, was mostly theoretical at the present moment. It was simply unprecedented and therefore unknown. There was only one subject to examine, and he was currently at the mercy of the court. However, if the dialectic of Valintism proved correct, as it had thus far, the newly reconstructing personality could well be the most fully reconciled psyche that had ever existed. Freed of the traumatic fear of mortality, existing in harmony with existence and non-existence, neurosis and pathology would be completely alien phenomena. Angst would become an antiquated theory. The possibilities could only be guessed at. But there was no doubt that they would be spectacular.

Patient Zero was not a maniac. He was the sanest human being who had ever existed. He was not a monster. He was a harbinger. The first fruit of the new human era predicted by Valintism. He was proof of Valintism’s psycho-historical dialectic. The entire human race would eventually undergo the metamorphosis Patient Zero had already begun. The question, Doctor Valint proclaimed before the astonished faces, was not whether we looked into the abyss or the abyss looked into us, but what we were going to do on the other side.

The outcry was indescribable in its size and virulence. Within two weeks of the testimony Times-Newsweek, ltd. Published a special issue featuring a glossy photograph of Doctor Valint’s smiling visage underneath the words, “The Mad Doctor: A Post-Modern Frankenstein?” Religious leaders who had held their peace while the growth of Valintism appeared unstoppable saw their opportunity. The Pope issued an official denunciation of Valintism and publicly called for an international ban on all research involving L61938. Reverend Everett Clawthorn of the Southern Baptist Coalition preached a sermon in Atlanta before a crowd of fifty thousand in which he denounced Valintism as “a sickening affront to God and a moral depravity akin to atheism and Nazism.” Secular humanists denounced Valintism’s amorality. The American Atheists Association called Valint’s testimony “an atrocity that has no connection whatsoever to secular humanist morality.” The anti-Valintists suddenly found themselves on the same lecture circuits, television talk shows, and bestseller lists that had been previously dominated by their nemesis. Baumgartner himself published a hastily assembled collection of lectures and interviews entitled “Valintism and the Cult of Scientific Murder”. It became an instant bestseller. Traffic on his personal website jumped by a factor of seven thousand. It was redesigned and relaunched within two weeks as the homepage of the newly founded Anti-Valintist Society. Within a month, the president himself felt compelled to announce that he had signed an executive order requesting the formation of a congressional subcommittee to investigate Valint and his research. The NIH was ordered to suspend all funds earmarked for L61936 studies. Doctor Valint was suspended with pay pending the outcome of the investigation.

But Doctor Valint had already handed in his resignation.

The only thing more striking than Doctor Valint’s embrace of his fame was his abandonment of it. He simply disappeared. The gates of the Maryland compound were locked. Guards and security cameras manned the perimeter. All requests for interviews and official statements were refused. None were issued. The remaining faithful followed suit. The total silence emanating from the Valintists only intensified the ferocity of the attacks against them. The anti-Valintists now dominated all discourse on the subject. Doctor Valint was on his way to becoming the hated man in America, if not the world.

Then the Schism came. And it was as if nothing that came before it had ever happened.

Patient Zero was sentenced to death for twenty-one counts of murder in the first degree and three in the second degree. It was ruled that the death of his family was likely not fully premeditated. However, intense interest in his case on the part of several anonymous government agencies, including, it was rumored, the White House itself, and the extreme likelihood that he would be called as a witness before the congressional subcommittee on Valintism, resulted in him being remanded to the perpetual custody of United States Federal Marshals at Fort Leavenworth pending the outcome of various inquiries.

Leavenworth was destroyed in a missile barrage during the border campaigns. Like thousands of others, Patient Zero was listed as missing, presumed dead. Rumors persist to this day that he survived, and remained secretly in the custody of his creator, who continued his experiments into synthetic death. No evidence of this has thus far been discovered. Of the fate of Patient Zero only one thing is certain.

He was never heard from again.

3

2007-09-09T09:55:00.000+03:00

Valintism’s success was instantaneous and inescapable. Among scientists, it not only offered a bold new world of intellectual possibilities, it also reawakened a pride which had been degraded by decades of professional self-flagellation.

The advent of the atomic bomb ushered in the era of existential scientific guilt. In which knowledge was seen by its practitioners as an act of violation. A form of intellectual imperialism. Uncomfortable with the moralities of power, fearful of government suppression and the mistrust of the masses, scientists became increasingly skeptical of themselves and their calling. They had come to accept, if only subconsciously, the idea of knowledge as a form of rape.

Valintism instantly crushed this ethic of self-pity. Valintism promised a knowledge that could not violate. The conquest it prophesied was not of the physical but of the intangible. Valintism unleashed the full powers of science without guilt, remorse, or consequence.

Valintism was perfect.

It was not only the ideology but the man himself. Doctor Valint’s evolving persona was impossible for young scientists to resist. The quiet and disarmingly modest academic underwent a shocking metamorphosis. He began to wear immaculate white suits and drive European sports cars. He was accompanied to conferences and lectures by one or two of his young mistresses, who were usually photographed smiling and hanging on the Doctor’s arm. He bought a mansion in south Maryland and announced his plans to transform it into a center for Valintist research. Like most abnormally intelligent men, Doctor Valint was unused to attention or approval. He was determined to enjoy it. Before long, vague rumors of orgies involving the Doctor and his admirers began to leak out of the south Maryland mansion. The old maxim, for true than false, that genius is sexy began to be heard once again on the tongues of the gossip inclined.

But Doctor Valint did not neglect his scientific duties. An authorized plethora of books, CDs, internet sites, articles in the popular press and videotaped lectures fed the insatiable market for Valintism. Only a handful of these hundreds of products were geared towards the esoteric, academic discourse favored by Doctor Valint’s peers. They were overwhelmingly intended for the popular audience that bought them by the millions and hung on Doctor Valint’s every pronouncement. The appetite for Doctor Valint’s proclamation of a new stage in human existence was insatiable. Mankind has always been mesmerized by the possibility of apocalypse. The 20^th century was rife with such phenomena. But Doctor Valint outdid them all. One lecture, entitled “The Metaphysical Imperative: Synthetic Death and the Future of Mankind” was delivered to an audience of six hundred seventy-five thousand at Madison Square Garden. Another half million hopefuls were turned away at the gate. Over one billion watched the internet simulcast. No scientist before or since has commanded so much non-professional attention. Derek Valint was the first of previously unknown species: the scientist rock star.

There were detractors. Some objected to Valint’s vulgar and grandiose exploitation of his own celebrity. Others found his tendency to publish his theories in popular press rather than in properly reviewed academic journals distasteful and suspect. But there were some, Aluicious Baumgartner of Cambridge University most especially, who went raised serious questions about the moral content and scientific value of Valintism, ultimately attacking the basis of the movement itself.

Baumgartner’s book “The Perpetual Division”, considered the founding text of anti-Valintism, was published in 2051. It reasserted the scorned dualism of post-Enlightenment science in firm, some said violent, rhetorical terms. The partition of physics and metaphysics, claimed Baumgartner, was no tragedy. It was the liberation of science from the tyranny of superstition and enforced delusion. Far from a revolution in human thought, Valintism was reactionary in the extreme. It was repopulating the world with gods and demons. It resurrected nothing but the mirages which stood in the war of the true progress of human knowledge.

Baumgartner went further than this. From a strictly moral point of view, Valintism was a horror. It devalued the physical world to the point of negation. And it did so in favor of a suicidal embrace of nothingness. The deliberate induction of death was not a conquest but a submission. The ramifications of the Valintist delusion were terrifying. Baumgartner formulated a counter-historiography to Valint’s fear of death hypothesis. Human civilization, he claimed, was not motivated by the terror of death but by the will towards life. By the conscious or unconscious refusal to submit to despair even in the face of our inevitable non-existence. Valint’s belief that he had begun the conquest of the intangible realm was hubris of monstrous proportions. The fact that one could return from death did not mean one had conquered it. Non-existence was, by definition, beyond conquest. Human beings were physical creatures, said Baumgartner. We exist. Our existence is the definition of our existence. In his book’s most famous line, Baumgartner rewrote Decartes himself. “I exist,” he wrote, “therefore I exist. Non-existence was a negation. By definition, it could be nothing. And being was the possible state of being. Doctor Valint, claimed his critic, had erected a vast intellectual house of cards around his own terror of death. A terror he had sublimated by embracing it. Valintism, charged Baumgartner, was nothing more than an expression of its creator’s subconscious urge towards suicide. He famously nicknamed his target “The Pope of the Church of Thanatos”.

Baumgartner came too early. His book was dismissed by those who bothered to read it at all. It went through a single printing and was then relegated to the shelves of various university libraries. Nonetheless, an anti-Valintist trend began to gather momentum in elite circles, although the general public remained as enamored as ever. Particularly in the medical community, and despite the conclusions of various ethics committees that the practice was acceptable so long as the consent of the patient and his or her legally recognized guardians was obtained, the very concept of synthetic death raised serious questions which would not be easily quelled. Hippocratic principles remained deeply influential despite the ubiquity of the Valintist paradigm.

In the philosophical community a more serious criticism was gaining ground, particularly among the empirically inclined. They found Valint’s most grandiose claim, that of a fundamental change in human consciousness as a result of L61938, simply impossible to accept. It was, they charged, fundamentally unscientific because it was unfalsifiable. It could neither be proved nor disproved. As such, it was, in empirical terms, of no more use than a declaration of religious faith. Moreover, it was an extraordinary claim, and therefore required extraordinary evidence. By definition, such evidence would not be forthcoming. Edward Munchausun, professor of philosophy at Columbia University, emeritus, declared the entirety of Valintism “intellectual charlatanism”, and recommended the rejection of Valintist papers by all reputable journals. This statement was printed next to an article entitled “Valintism and the pre-Socratics: an Inquiry” by T.S. Honeydew, one of the Doctor’s most prominent disciples.

It is easy to understand the attractiveness of the empiricist contention. The inevitable byproduct of great success is the charge that the emperor wears no clothes. The rush of the sudden leap wears into something resembling an intellectual hangover. It was all too fraught with implications. Minds were exhausted. They wanted to climb down from the dizzying heights of Valintism and examine the new terrain. Even belief grows tiresome, and skepticism them seems a reflexive proof of the independence of one’s mind.

For these reasons, the anti-Valintist philosophers were enjoying some measure of success by December 2055, when events proved them all wrong.

2

2007-09-08T09:54:00.000+03:00

It was Valint who gave it to them.

Short, gray haired, clean shaven, slightly overweight with extraordinarily vivid blue eyes, Valint looked nothing like the ghoul the assembled were expecting. His soft voice and unassuming yet palpably passionate manner gave him that rarest of appearances: that of a man who is extraordinary without being intimidating. It was feat which only Einstein had achieved before him. And even Einstein had never raised the dead.

This was the unspoken profundity which made Valint the most famous scientist of the modern era. Einstein had given us abstractions, concepts, intangibles. One could not look into the face of Special Relativity. Valint offered them flesh and blood.

More specifically, he offered them a lanky thirty-two year old Caucasian male who wished to remain anonymous. He was referred to by Valint, and then by the rest of the world, as Patient Zero.

Three dozen television cameras recorded the case history. Attention and rage disorders in childhood. A family history of mental illness. Psychotic episodes throughout adolescence and early adulthood. Paranoid schizophrenia followed by total dissociative breakdown at the age of twenty-three. Extensive use of electroshock therapy had likely exacerbated the situation. Patient Zero was a lost cause. For the last nine years he had been confined to a permanent care facility in northwest Virginia. Most of this time had been spent in restraints due to multiple suicide attempts. His family had given consent to his participation in Valint’s experiments. They considered his suicidal tendencies to be tantamount to a terminal illness.

They were hoping for a miracle cure.

What stepped in front of the microphone could not have been called anything else.

It was dark haired. He was dark haired. He had hazel eyes and wore horn-rimmed glasses. His three-piece suit and neatly arranged tie were an unassuming navy blue. His shoes were polished. His appearance suggested a banker’s secretary or a Wall Street stockbroker.

The eloquence of this twenty-six year old suicidal mental patient shocked the assembled press. Not a few members of the Washington press corps were glimpsed with carefully concealed tears in the corners of their eyes.

“A man whose mind has betrayed him is a prisoner,” he began. “Such a man does not live. He exists only. He is tyrannized by his thoughts. His mind torments his mind, his soul torments his soul with a suffering which is unspeakable and unknowable to his fellow human beings. He is a child locked in a cage with a monster who is himself.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “I have been set free. This…” And he gestured towards Doctor Valint, standing to his left, head bowed, hands clasped together, “is my liberator.”

And the two men embraced. They embraced before the crowd of journalists astounded to find themselves on their feet, weeping openly and applauding with a childlike joy. Cameras flashed and zoomed. In bars and restaurants across the world, men and women felt a lump in their throats as they watch the live feed. A billion eyes locked on the flashing cathode rays looked up from their dinner trays and choked back an inscrutable emotion. The strangest of collective derangements, the pop culture phenomenon, had begun.

The Doctor and his patient were instant celebrities. The Doctor’s fame was fed by the fact that this is a role for which no particular accomplishment is required. As a result, more than a few admirers were secretly gratified that their attentions were now directed towards a personage of genuine substance. But is was Patient Zero who truly “captured the hearts of the nation,” as laymen are wont to describe the phenomenon of mass fascination.

It was Patient Zero who was chosen to appear on the daily talk shows, the evening news magazines, the weekend inserts, the product endorsements. Sometimes in the company of his creator, usually not. He displayed a charm and wit that led some to question his genuine status as a recovered mental patient. A question which was quickly answered by the production of the relevant official documentation. He revealed his guilty affection for Hershey’s chocolate kisses and synthmilk. He retold his harrowing experiences of madness and confinement. He extolled the genius of Doctor Valint. He expressed the hope, and the faith, and that others would soon be liberated as he had been. On special occasions, most notably the Jennifer Clay Christmas Personality Special and the Jose Manolo Comedy Hour, he appeared with his aging mother, whose face was respectfully pixilated and her voice lowered to a sluggish moan to conceal her identity. Despite these technological precautions, viewers knew she was weeping as she retold the sordid details of her son’s suicide attempts.

They wept with her.

Doctor Valint confined himself to the highbrow conversation shows and satellite channels geared towards science and technology. The rarified audience and admiring reception he received began the Doctor’s transformation from scientist to guru/prophet. Because it was not only the virtues of synthetic death that Doctor Valint preached before a watching world.

It was revolution. Revision. The fundamental transmigration. Total rebirth.

His sermon began always with the same words: For three hundred years science has confined itself to the observation of the physical world.

And he continued. The death of metaphysics, he claimed, had created an absolute but artificial division between the scientific and the spiritual-psychological. Despite the clumsy attempts of Einstein and Freud to reunite the two, this division had remained precisely demarcated and zealously guarded. The result was that the post-Enlightenment scientific tradition was based upon an absolute dualism between the physical and the non-physical.

Doctor Valint preached: the dualism can no longer hold.

The continuing observation of the physical world had resulted not only in increased knowledge but also in increased control. Man could harness the atom. Manipulate electricity. Artificially reconstitute the sights and sounds of existence. The entirety of physical phenomena was falling under the dominion of scientific knowledge. This eventuality required only time. It was not unthinkable that in the very near future man would be capable of controlling the earth’s climate and even the energy of the sun. Experiments in terraformation were in their infancy, but there were no insurmountable obstacles in either engineering or physics that precluded the inevitable outcome: man would have the power to create worlds.

The price of this accomplishment was increasing differentiation. Disciplines were fracturing, specialties were narrowing, their terminologies were becoming incomprehensible to each other. As science expanded it diminished its mass. Turned in on itself. Collapse of the structure was inevitable. It was already collapsing. It was the duty of scientists to contemplate what would happen afterwards.

The only possible solution was reunification. A reunification whose essential characteristics were already becoming clear.

It was essential to remember that the ancient founders of science considered the study of the physical world to be inseparable from that of the metaphysical. True knowledge required an understanding of both the tangible and the intangible. The relatively recent phenomenon of the Enlightenment had destroyed this tradition.

Valintism would be its resurrection.

He did not call it by this name. A man creates a discipline. It is christened by others.

But Valintism and its followers never deviated from its founder’s original thesis: science had destroyed itself through the conquest of life. It would resurrect itself through the conquest of death.

L61938 was only a first step. It was the beginning of knowledge’s expansion into the realm of non-existence. The elementary principles of death had been successfully manipulated. Man, through his discovery of L61938, now stood on the border between life and non-life. The artificial border drawn by his own science. The way forward was clear. Death was no longer unknowable. All that remained was to smash the barricades. This was accomplished by realizing that they did not exist.

A man of Valint’s ambitions could not stop there. The implications of L61938 would change not only science but humanity itself.

This claim was buttressed by the Valintist reading of human history.

According to the Valintist psycho-historiographers, the greatest of them being Valint himself, the primary motivating factor in human history was the terror of death. All other determinative factors: economics, climate, political power, geographical advantage, religious and spiritual development, paled in comparison. All the great works and all the great atrocities of human civilization had been impelled by the desire for immortality, aroused by the rarely spoken knowledge of inevitable non-existence, the raw energy generated by existential fear. This ghost in the machine was the origin of our great religions, our vast empires, our epic wars, our monuments to God and beauty, our sexuality, our mores, our social organizations, our manners, our artistic masterpieces, even our own dreams. It was no coincidence that the first great works of monumental human architecture, the Great Pyramids, works which required a concentration of mathematical knowledge, building techniques, hydro-engineering, and brute labor, were tombs vital to a cult of resurrection and immortality. Gateways to the world of non-existence.

The coming conquest of death was therefore the end of history. As a result, L61938 and the conquest of death posed a challenge infinitely greater than the conquest itself. They demanded a primary recalculation of the entirety of mankind’s unconsciousness existence. In the form of a short but impossible question: Would civilization be possible after the fear of death was obsolete?

It was with this question that Doctor Valint would inevitably end his lectures and interviews. Variations of it appear in every one of the seventeen books he published before the Schism.

It has now been answered.

I am its answer.

1

2007-09-01T09:51:00.000+03:00

The technological feasibility of artificial death was already a scientific fact by the mid-twentieth century. The first crude forays into cryogenics were undertaken almost simultaneously with their theoretical plausibility. Despite the popularity of the process as a striking new field of research, and the ghoulish fascination which took hold of popular culture, giving rise, for instance, to the macabre legends surrounding the severed head of Walt Disney, it is now well known that these experiments were a complete failure. The early hopefuls of immortality were all defeated. Most of them by lack of funds. Although a few specimens were thawed when the cure for muscular dystrophy was developed in 2022, it was quickly discovered that tissue decay was as inexorable a process in a frozen state as it was in an embalmed corpse. Albeit a decay of a distinct and different kind. No one in the heady early days of cryogenics guessed that cessation of cellular movement on a molecular level could be as destructive as its opposite.

Nonetheless, the momentum of scientific research was clearly moving towards the arena of non-existence. Techniques of artificial resuscitation and the possibility of a near-infinite prolongation of the physical processes, even in a state of brain-death (the “persistent vegetative state” described in the popular press) demanded new definitions of the concept of non-existence and invited the theoretical possibility of technologically induced immortality. The most obvious and far-reaching implication: that death was no more natural or inevitable a phenomenon than smallpox, occurred to most of the leading authorities on the subject at almost precisely the same moment. Coincidental revelation is a not at all unusual phenomenon in the expansion of human knowledge.

Of all the various phenomena examined in these early stages; cloning, digitized consciousness, the gradual replacement of the physical body with synthetic components; the most fascinating subjects was undoubtedly that of the “near death experience.” A product of modern advances in resuscitation technology, the phenomenon was first noted by paramedics and emergency room doctors, though later studied dew clear parallels to such earlier manifestations as the Apocalypse of John and the works of Hieronymus Bosch. I myself have noted distinct similarities to Poe’s “Arthur Gordon Pym”, although this may simply be a product of Poe’s opium fantasies.

Generally involving feelings of intense euphoria and visions of angelic figures and tunnels of white light recounted by functionally brain dead patients later successfully revived without major damage to cognitive functions, the near death experience was originally considered a subject for New Age fanatics and credulous believers in the paranormal. Nonetheless, a few scientists, albeit quietly, did note the implausibility of the generally accepted scientific explanation: that these visions were the product of a dying brain seeking to ease its own suffering in the face of imminent non-existence. Such a theory, the dissidents claimed, was clearly implausible in patients who were, by definition, brain dead already, although some concessions were made to the possibility of transfer of dream activity to the brain stem in the event of intense trauma. The brain stem is, after all, the last to die, and continues to function even in otherwise persistently vegetative patients. However, no aspect of the conventional wisdom regarding the near death experience, they emphasized, had been scientifically proven.

I cannot speak to the accuracy of the near death experience. My experience is limited to the death experience itself. Nonetheless, the historical importance of the phenomenon cannot be overestimated. It marked the first indication that science was beginning to reach beyond the limits of life.

But these were precursors only. Valintism was the breakthrough. The precipice moment. Like all such moments, it occurred coincidentally. Its implications were understood only years afterwards. I am certain of this. I am one of its implications.

Despite his early training as a neurologist, Doctor Derek Valint had shown no interest in mortality before his discovery. His specialty was severe neuro-psychiatric disorders, especially schizophrenia and dissociative personality. This likely prepared for the possibilities offered by the less than exact sciences.

The limits of psycho-pharmacological therapies were already becoming clear at this time. The late 20^th century revolutions in the manipulation of brain chemistry were proving less and less effective in treating advanced forms of mental illness. The long term ineffectiveness of drug therapies was becoming obvious. The conviction was once again growing among the experts that certain disorders of the mind were fundamentally untreatable short of reducing the patient to a vegetable. Such desperate measures as electroshock therapy and lobotomization were once again under serious consideration. Despite the outrage of more humanist members of the scientific community, perpetual confinement was growing in popularity in the courts and the medical community. The situation was reaching a crisis point. Such moments are moments of breakdown or breakthrough. Had he been born twenty years earlier, Doctor Valint would have passed his life in anonymity.

And I would never have existed.

According to legend, the revelation came late one in the Washington laboratories of the National Institutes of Health, where Doctor Valint was employed as a researcher. At seven minutes after midnight, a time to which some would later attribute a certain mystical significance, Doctor Valint’s computer malfunctioned. To be more precise, the X and Z keys exchanged places. That is, when Doctor Valint pressed the X key, a Z appeared on the screen and vice versa. The specialized vocabulary of science demands the use of these letters to an extent far greater than conversational or literary English. As a result, this sudden transmigration left the Doctor more distressed than a layman might at first assume. He could have simply adjusted himself to the situation at hand, but scientists are not noted for their practicality.

Doctor Derek Valint summoned the janitor.

The janitor looked the machine over. Then he reached behind, found the power switch and shut it off. A few minutes later he restarted it. The malfunction had corrected itself.

It was at this point that the light bulb, which always appears in such tales, ignited over Doctor Valint’s head and the obvious occurred to him: total shutdown followed by near instantaneous revival. The implications were astounding.

This legend has maintained its place in the popular consciousness, though its veracity has been largely dismantled by the later revisionists. There can be little doubt that this account of the origins of Orpheus is an urban legend. Doctor Valint’s revelation, and no one denies that it was a revelation, was more likely a slow but steady process leading to a precipice moment. (Again that phrase, laden with irony) As early as 2038 there are cryptic notes in Valint’s diaries referring to a “Eurydice complex” and “the transformational praxis offered by the imminence of resurrection.” The Doctor’s mind was working towards the moment, albeit a moment whose nature was unknown to him at the time.

It is uncontested that the Doctor had received his revelation by 2041, when he received his five year research grant from the NIH. Declared Top Secret and limited to Doctor Valint and his immediate staff, the undertaking was listed as Project Macedon in all official documents. Details were unknown even to Doctor Valint’s NIH superiors. While the revisionists have reliably concluded that they must have run into the millions, funds for the project were not in annual NIH budget reports. Rumors persist, in fact, that the funding came from other sources entirely.

I believe this to be true. I have my own reasons.

The initial synthesis of compounds required over two years to complete, and it has now been reliably established that clinical trials were not begun until 2043. Put in its proper historical context, this is a remarkably swift pace, and it must be assumed that the major theoretical problems had been solved long before Doctor Valint applied for his grant.

This became relevant only after the fact. When Doctor Valint first made his findings public in 2044, it was of interest to no one.

Valint’s official paper was published in the NIH journal as “L61938 and the Significance of Induced Brain Death to the Treatment of Neurological Disorders” and was immediately ranked with Eisentein’s Theory of Special Relativity as one of the most significant single publications in the history of science. Its author did nothing to dispel this conviction.

Like all great scientific theories, synthetic death as a cure for mental illness was essentially simple and based on a briefly stated principle: the reconstitution of the mind via its complete annihilation.

The instrument of annihilation and reconstitution was L61938. Valint and his assistants referred to it as the “black and red.”

We called it something else. Something entirely more appropriate.

Roughly the size of an average painkiller, L61938 was oblong and gel coated. One end of it was red and the other black. Hence its official nickname. The black end of the pill was a compound of synthesized opiates, designed to induce a gradual shutdown of all physical systems, beginning with the extremities, followed by complex thought and voluntary actions, and eventually all cognitive functions and the central nervous system. Within ten minutes, the brain stem ceased to function and the internal organs began to die. Colloquially, this is known as “flatlining.” There was no debate over the fact that it qualified both medically and legally as total brain death.

The red side of the pill was a time-release dose of highly concentrated adrenaline. Within three to five minutes of brain death the adrenaline restarted the heart and shocked the subject back to consciousness. Normal brain activity resumed shortly afterwards.

Reaction to the paper was intense and largely negative. The journal received five hundred and twenty eight emails within the first twenty-four hours of publication. Overwhelmingly, they claimed that Valint’s study raised terrifying ethical questions. Fully sixty percent of the messages accused Valint of violating the fundamental principle of the Hippocratic Oath: “first, do no harm.” It was impossible, they charged, to argue that the induction of death, however synthetic, did not constitute an injury to the patient. The most notorious message was sent by the president of the Columbia University School of Medicine. He called Valint’s technique “the most ghoulish perversion of the medical arts since therapeutic bloodletting.”

He was correct. But no one argues with success.

And success was what Valint displayed to the world on May 15, 2044. Three days after the initial publication of his findings.

Its name was Patient Zero.

The press conference began as a hastily organized attempt at damage control. The reputations of the NIH and Valint himself were on the line. Journalists from the scientific and popular press were flown in at government expense. Prominent members of the scientific community were formally invited. There was a surprisingly large delegation from Japan. A free web cast was available via the NIH website. It collapsed three minutes into the conference due to the massive number of visitor. It was later estimated at nearly seventy-five million, including three from the permanent Russian research station in Antarctica. Valint’s superiors hoped for a manageable disaster.

What they got was a triumph.

Prologue/Past/Future

2007-08-27T18:08:00.000+03:00

The ancient dualism bequeathed to us by Freud no longer exists. For millennia mankind has trembled on the precipice between Eros and Thanatos. We have now gone down into the darkness, into the underworld, without fear. Science has granted us the possibility of return. We have become Orpheus.

--Doctor Derek Valint, MD, PhD

Excerpted from An Exploration of the Long-Term Metaphysical Implications of L61938, published by CX Scientific, Washington DC, May 2051

There are 37 cracks in the white tile ceiling. There are six thousand three hundred and eighty-nine motes of dust pitted into the window glass. The window has nine bars. Six are vertical. Three are horizontal. Four straps are restraining my limbs. Two are tied to my wrists. Two are tied to my ankles. I have no hair on my head/. There are five marks on my upper chest. Their origin is unknown. I connect them by inevitable logic to the twenty-six needle scars on my upper arms. Fourteen on my left arm. Twelve on my right. The ant crawling over my toes has six legs. It has thousands of eyes. They are too small for me to count them. I have ten toes, ten fingers, and two eyes. There are one hundred and eighty degrees of observable space if I turn my head horizontal. There are only ninety degrees if I raise or lower my head vertically. There are three lights in the ceiling. They blink on and off at an average of eight times per second, depending on the relative density of the fluorescent gas.

When they turn the lights off, I count the footsteps in the hall. There are two guards. They are replaced every six hours. The variations in their rate of activity are fascinating. I can recognize them by their footsteps. I have never seen their faces. There are four nurses. I have seen their faces. They are the only human faces have seen for a very long time. I could tell the time and date by the light coming through the windows, but I do not know the duration of my periods of unconsciousness. But I have not been here for too long. The hair on my arms has not gone gray. I do not know how old I am. That is not relevant. I have lived forty-eight lives and died forty-seven deaths. The equation of life and death is simple: x-1=y. We will never conquer mathematics. There will always be one less. The equalization of the equation will destroy it. The world has left us signs of its intrinsic imbalance. This is one of them. We are foolish to pretend that we have discovered them all.

The ancients believed that the universe began with a word. The moderns put their faith in a cataclysmic explosion. No one questions the providential nothingness. Which came first: the x or the one? I can answer that question. That is why I am here. That is why they cannot let me leave. Have I told them? Have they asked me? It does not matter. My answers would be incomprehensible. They are tyrannized by words and numbers. I am beyond speech. I have not spoken a conscious word since I was brought here. I prefer the solitude of this body and this mind. It is a borderless domain. I choose not to be a prisoner of words. But I am beginning to understand numbers. They are only implications. But they contain the germ of revelation. In their inherent absurdity, they evoke the possibility of an answer. Man made a fatal error when he reduced them to symbols. But man has never understood labyrinths. Man looks forever backwards. His dreams are horizontal. From the moment of his first conscious memory to the moment of his existence. But dreams are vertical. He should have heeded his book: “and a wind from God was upon the face of the deep.” The way is down. Down into the deep.

Think back to your first image. Your mother smiling down at you. A white dandelion disintegrating in a summer breeze. You recall a frozen portrait. You move within it. You define its contours. Can you imagine the moment before? The moment after? No. But you believe it existed. You know it existed. Because it must have existed.

Man averts his eyes. He knows it was because it must have been. His symbols, his speech, his words demand it. The vessels of his invention lead him down into terror. I was once a creature of fear. I once recoiled from this waking dream.

I do not know fear. Our creators are not the same. The one that formed me is not faceless. I know his name. I am not unique. I am one of many. I was not the first, nor the last. I resemble you in this. But I am not like you. I no longer have need of eyes. I do not desire to see.

To explain myself requires that I submit myself to the tyranny of words. I must imagine the past, and build and architecture without dimensions. My secrets will be safe. Words are seals. Each letter conceals itself. Each sign annihilates the malformation of speech. To speak the truth, I must destroy words.

You will understand.