Role Playing

Chapter 1

San Francisco, Twenty-second Century

Jed brought in his ship after yet another express delivery run.

When he was a dozen meters away from the ship, he turned around and looked it over. The unloading crews were already pulling off the Moon pallets, and the carts with the San Francisco-Moon cargo were waiting in the background.

The ship had just been painted with the new company design. For years they had kept the classic plain brown UPS design, but somebody had decided to get fancy. There were now animal faces above each of the four fins, painted in some weird fluorescent color. Well, at least he didn’t have to look at it most of the time.

On the way out of the port, Jed checked his watch against the wall clock. Again. Off by over two minutes. Every time that he manually landed the ship, his watch lost a little time. He’d had it checked a few times, but there was nothing wrong with it. In fact, it was physically impossible for it to be off. The ship didn’t travel at anything near relativistic speeds, so that explanation was out.

Jed decided to go to Chinatown and get a decent meal. He had been eating frozen meals for the past week, and Chinese food was something that didn’t freeze well. The Moon run was getting to him, but the only other option was to go for Mars, and that was even worse. You could retire sooner, though.

He wandered up Grant Avenue. Somehow, they had managed to keep this part of San Francisco frozen in time. They claimed it hadn’t changed in hundreds of years, and Jed believed it. He could never figure out how they managed to keep the cable cars running, but they did. They were always behind schedule, but the tourists didn’t seem to mind.

He ignored a couple of drunks lying on the sidewalk, stopped in the Lotus Garden, and ordered the seven-mushroom special. That was a treat- nothing like that on board.

Jed was feeling pretty good, so he had a bit of sake too- something else that he couldn’t have on the ship, at least not legally. He paid for his meal, and went out into the crowd of souvenir-seeking tourists.

He went uphill, deeper into Chinatown, and turned down one of the side streets, trying to get away from the souvenir shops and the tourists. Once you got away from Grant, you could find the real Chinatown, where people actually lived and worked- and spoke Chinese. The stores here were smaller, and rather dingy. The store signs gradually shifted from English to Chinese, and with the exception of a few ‘no parking’ signs, there wasn’t anything that he could read.

He passed by some a food shop. Jed stopped for a moment, but he couldn’t recognize any of the items on sale. The bunches of dried things hanging up looked vaguely vegetable in origin, but the odd objects in the jars could have been anything at all.

Jed felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned around. A thin old man was standing in front of him. Well, more stooping than standing. And old wasn’t the word either. Ancient. Wrinkled! Nobody was wrinkled anymore. After they’d eradicated Malaria, AIDs and a handful of tropical diseases, they’d gone after the big one- wrinkles.

Not only that, he was using a cane- a walking stick of some kind. Something else that could have been avoided with modern medical care. People routinely lived to be a hundred these days, in fairly good health. Jed guessed that this guy was actually younger, and had not had proper care over the decades.

The old man had a wispy white beard, like the Chinese paintings of old men that you could get on Grant. The paintings were usually of bald men, but this one had a full head of bright white hair, and deep-set eyes, under bushy eyebrows. The eyes were straight- no sign of Mongolian genes here.

Jed thought that the eyes were twinkling under the eyebrows, but it was hard to tell. You could barely be sure that this guy had eyes at all.

I have something for you.

Jed had expected the guy to ask him for directions, or maybe money.

You have something for me?

Yes. Indeed. You do not have to answer my question with one of your own.

It wasn’t really a question. It was a need for verification.

Well, consider it verified. I do, in fact, have something for you.

And what exactly do you have for me?

This.

The old guy held out his cane. It was a wooden cane. The top of it was curved, but ribbed, like the horn of some animal. There were also some odd carvings on it, four characters that looked vaguely like Chinese pictograms. The overall impression was one of an antique cane you could pick up at one of the souvenir shops a few blocks away.

Why would I want this?

You need it.

Look, I’m walking fine without it, and it looks to me like you need it a lot more than I do.

I have managed for quite a few years without a stick. I brought it here especially for you.

For me? You picked me at random. You had no idea who was going to come down this street.

You may believe that if you like. In fact, I have been waiting for you for a long time. However, I see very little point in arguing about it.

Well, in any case, I don’t want the stick.

I’m not surprised. But let me explain again. You do not want it. But you will need it. More precisely, you will have needed it.

Again, I don’t want it. Who the hell are you anyhow?

Hmm. You can call me Eli. That would be best. And one could say that we have met before. Or that we will have met before.

This was getting to be a bit much for Jed. So much for a quiet afternoon wandering around Chinatown.

Look, Mr. Eli, I do not want your stick. Have a good day.

Jed turned away from the old man, and walked back towards Grant. He walked quickly down Grant, ignoring the other tourists, and hurried down towards the station on Market Street, with an eye towards getting back to the port.

He stopped to peer at the cables running in the crack down the middle of the street. Amazing how ingenious people could be. He tapped idly on the steel cover with his cane, and…

He could have sworn that he didn’t take the cane from that old guy. In fact, he had rather rudely just turned around and left. How did he end up with it?

Chapter 2

Safed. 16th century

‘In every generation each person must look upon himself as if he had left Egypt.’(From the Passover Seder)

Simon tried to keep his mind on the text. The room was cold. The high-arched ceiling and stone walls that kept the room cool in the summer made it freezing in the winter. Heating it was out of the question- fuel was too expensive. The shelves of books lining the room didn’t provide much insulation. There were hundreds of new printed books on the shelves. Just a few years earlier they had only had a few written manuscripts, but the new technology had changed even their closed world.

There was the usual buzz of voices around him. A combination of chanting and heated argument that made up for the temperature.

It was the morning session, so Simon was working on part of the Law, the Way. The Aramaic text was different than the Aramaic of the Inner Truth, but both were foreign languages to him. It had taken him years to learn Aramaic, and he still spoke Spanish in his daily life.

But what really kept his mind wandering away from the text wasn’t the cold, nor the language. It was the Master, Rabbi Joseph.

Most people considered the Master to be the leading scholar of the day. His decisions on the Law were accepted across most of the known world. Even in those places where the customs differed, his rulings had become the basis for discussion.

Most of his disciples, however, revered him for another reason. The Master was not only the ultimate expert on the Law, but was a leading pursuer of the truth, through study of the Hidden Knowledge, the ancient tradition that had passed through the generations in parallel to the Revealed Knowledge.

The Master had achieved a great goal, the use of the Hidden to understand the Revealed. It was known among his closest students that the Master had true visions of the spirit of the Mishnah, the Learning, who helped him understand the Way.

But Simon knew that the Master was striving for more. It had only come out in bits and pieces, but the Master’s increasing agitation as the holiday approached was obvious.

Passover, the holiday commemorating the Exodus from Egypt, was, in many ways, the ultimate day, both in its proper observance according to the Law, and in its hidden depths. Were not the greatest miracles performed during the Exodus? And did not Moses, the greatest prophet, speak directly to God himself? The Exodus led up to the revelation on Mount Sinai, where the Ten Commandments and the Law were given to man.

The Master intended to relive these events. It was written: In each generation, every man must view himself as if he personally had escaped Egypt. This was, on one level, what every householder achieved at the Passover Seder. But The Master was looking for more. He wanted to truly relive the Exodus, to bind the Hidden and the Revealed together.

Simon did not know how far the Master had proceeded with his plan, and what would happen if he did succeed. The Master had hinted to him that he had seen the Exodus, but had not managed to see himself there- he was just an observer, and wanted to be a participant.

Simon did know that the Master was obsessed, that he was neglecting himself. He rarely came out of his small study behind the great hall. Several weeks had gone by since the last time he had lectured to the students.

He looked across the room at Abraham. Abraham was short, but energetic. His endless energy was amazing, considering that he was by far the oldest member of the group. He had known the Master since he was a child in Spain. Abraham glanced at him, and then at the door to the Master’s study.

Simon came over to him.

Abraham, when was the last time he ate anything?

I think it’s been three days now.

We should go in there. Make sure he eats something.

It’s probably more dangerous to interrupt him than to leave him. There are only two days left until the holiday. By then he will either have found what he is seeking, or not.

Simon knew that Abraham was right. Interrupting the Master’s vision wasn’t something he wanted to risk either.

Abraham, what is he actually doing? Do you know?

Well, his goal you know.

Yes, reliving the Exodus.

Well, last year he tried, using the usual texts and meditations. But they did not give him the key that he needed. Now he has found the key.

The key?

A new text. I should say an old text, very old. A traveler brought it to him from Alexandria.

Simon had not heard of any recent visitors from Alexandria.

You met this traveler?

Yes. He was only here for a few minutes. He showed me the scroll, and insisted on personally giving it to the Master.

A scroll? Not bound?

I was surprised myself. It was not part of the Bible, which we copy onto scrolls. It was on papyrus, not leather.

This was the first Simon had heard of any of this.

So what’s the text? What’s the key?

The text has no name, nor do I know who wrote it. But it describes the Chariot.

The Chariot! The Merkavah! That was the Master’s key. A means of reaching God through His fiery Chariot.

Every child knew the basic story, of how the Prophet Ezekiel had seen God’s Chariot. That was Revealed Knowledge. But there was another layer of meaning, a Hidden layer, that could be the Master’s key to experiencing the Exodus.

Simon, he ‘s close to his goal. He sees the Nile, and even tastes the water, but he hasn’t left Egypt. Not yet.

They heard a thump from the Master’s study. The room froze. The chanting, the arguments, the little discussions on the side- they all stopped. Everybody watched the Master’s door, but no one dared to open it.

Abraham was the exception. He rose, surprisingly fast for his age, knocking the bench over as he rose.

Come, Simon!

But the Master…

Master to you, but still little Joseph to me. He may need help.

Abraham opened the door slowly. The Master, thank God, was alive. But he was lying on the floor, his beard in the dust, weeping.

Joseph, Joseph! What is it? What happened?

I was there! I myself!

And?

I ate of the lamb. The first Passover! And it was time, time to leave.

So you did it!

No! As we rose to leave, I felt the power leave me. More than leave me. It was taken from me. An evil spirit, an uncircumcised force.

Did you see anything? Do you know who did this?

Nothing. I saw only the Chariot, which had brought me there. As I left my place in Egypt, and came back to this reality, I saw it. I saw it flying over the Dead Sea…

The Master was still breathing, but was no longer conscious. Abraham beckoned to the frightened students in the doorway to come help. Four of them helped carry the Master to his room.

Abraham placed his ear near the Master’s mouth. He was still breathing. But there was something else.

Simon, you try.

You can’t hear his breath?!

Quiet. You will scare the others. He is breathing. But listen yourself.

Simon placed his ear close to the Master’s mouth. He could hear the slow breathing, but nothing else. Was the Master trying to mumble something? Simon could not hear anything at all, besides the breathing. He looked up at Abraham. Abraham pointed at his nose. Nose? There was an odd smell, a familiar smell. It took Simon a moment to place it. Roast lamb.

Chapter 3

Jordan Valley, Ninth Century BC

‘Now when the Lord was about to take Elijah up to heaven by a whirlwind…’(Kings II, 2)

Jed brought the ship down through the cloud cover. He needed to pick up some cargo on the East Coast before the Moon run. He liked the East coast. Very predictable. No strange old men giving out souvenirs.

Such a cheap-looking thing too. The way that old guy was carrying on you would think that he was Jesus himself, handing over a bit of the cross. Jed wasn’t interested in that kind of nonsense. He wanted to finish his twelve-year stint as a pilot. By then he would be well off, and could retire at the ripe old age of 38, to a life of fishing and hunting. No more worrying about loads, fuel levels and tight schedules.

Speaking of which, what the hell was wrong with that watch?

Anyhow, he should be breaking through the cloud cover any second. He should be seeing the New York skyline by now…

He didn’t see New York. He saw something different, a man running. A very thin man. But he was running in the wrong place. It didn’t look at all like New York FedEx Port.

He was landing in an odd valley. It didn’t look like New York, or even like the Moon. It was very dry. There were a few stunted bushes, and what looked like a poor attempt at a tree. The ground was light colored, and very bright- Jed squinted until his eyes got used to it.

The thin man was running towards him. Endless ravines, whose sides showed strips of bright color, broke up the land. The bottoms of the ravines were covered with gravel and small stones. There must have been flooding at some point, but now the ravines were completely dry.

The thin guy was running on one of the few flat stretches. He was wearing a loincloth, a robe, and a white cloak. He had sandals, and a white cloth wrapped around his head, to protect him from the sun.

Jed wasn’t at all pleased. First the problems with the watch, then that old guy with the cane, and now this.

Jed didn’t usually speak to the shipboard computer- another one of his quirks about the endless technology that controlled his life. But this was no time for being picky.

Comp- what is going on!?

In what regard, sir?

Jed cursed the damn thing. Endless memory, can compute anything you can imagine and most things that you can’t, but you had to be very specific with that optical hybrid- though optical bastard was more like it…

All right, let’s start at the top. What is wrong with the landing?

Landing looks good sir. We should have a smooth touchdown in 37 seconds.

Stupid son of a…

OK. More specific. WHERE are we landing?

Couldn’t say, sir. GPS isn’t working.

Isn’t working at all?

That’s right sir.

Jed vaguely remembered that navigation had been accomplished before space travel started.

Well, can you figure out where we are anyhow? You know, based on the height of the sun and so on.

Well, sir, if my clock is right, we…

No. Forget it. I bet the clocks are wrong too.

Jed liked wearing analog-style watches. He’d had some trouble with this one recently. Just now, he could have sworn that he saw one of the hands move backwards.

All right Comp, let’s leave where alone for now. I guess we should ignore what for now too. Let’s try something else. What do you suggest we do?

Well sir, it looks like we should do the rescue routine. Regulations sir.

What was Mr. Brilliant Silicon going on about now? Jed looked at the monitors. The thin guy was a lot closer. And the ship was just about down. But somebody was chasing him. Another skinny jerk. Could be his twin brother, except this one was bald. Regulations said you should rescue guys in this situation. But it looked to Jed like he needed rescuing.

Jed checked the viewer, to make sure that there weren’t more of these guys from skinny land around. There were about fifty of them off in the distance, but they weren’t moving. Maybe this was a local spectator sport. Skinny-land gladiator contest, perhaps?

Anyhow, Comp was right. You always came out ahead if you followed the regulations, and the first guy looked like he was a goner if something didn’t happen.

OK. The regulations. Let’s do it right. Let’s pick this guy up, and get out of here, wherever here is.

Sir, we should first check the air before opening the hatch.

Look, these guys are breathing it. Gravity is Earth normal.

It will just take a few seconds, sir. Regulations, sir.

Alright, get on with it.

Meanwhile, the ship landed. Huge cloud of dust. Worse than the Moon. At least on the Moon, dust settled quickly- no air.

The atmosphere is safe, sir. But not quite normal.

What?

Carbon dioxide levels are low sir. Also no signs of normal pollutants.

Well, if it’s safe, let’s open up and grab this guy.

The runner was very close. The dust was settling, and Jed could see him clearer now. He had a wispy black beard, and looked like one of the hippies in those nostalgic films. Anyhow, there wasn’t much to do about any of this right now.

Comp- what if the guy is dangerous?

There is a tranq-gun in the emergency chest, sir. You are authorized to use it if you feel threatened.

Hell, I feel threatened all right.

The hatch opened, and the ladder went down normally. Too bad- that would have been a convenient malfunction. Hot air streamed into the ship. Jed felt like he was a child, standing next to his mother as she took some of her famous burnt cookies out of the oven. He wondered if you could in fact bake cookies out there. You probably could. Maybe even burnt ones.

The guy climbed up the ladder. He reached the top rung, and struggled out of his cloak, which was embroidered with an odd figure that looked vaguely familiar. He dropped the cloak to the ground. The guy chasing him was about 50 meters off, but had stopped. Jed guessed that he didn’t know what to make of the ship. But who the hell were all these people? Nobody dressed this way anymore, even in the remotest parts of the world.

Jed reached into the emergency chest and pulled out the tranq-gun. He grabbed the souvenir cane too, for good measure.

The skinny guy came in, and looked around. The fellow chasing him was shouting at him, but Jed could not understand a word. Even the sounds didn’t seem right. He had come closer to the ship and had picked up the cloak.

Comp closed the hatch. The skinny guy looked even thinner up close. Thin, but tough. Stringy looking fellow. The oddest thing though- even though there was only desert all around, the guy’s feet were wet!

He looked straight at Jed, then his eyes dropped to the cane

Mateh nechmad, nachon?

Excuse me, I don’t understand you.

The guy closed his eyes for a minute, opened them, and then gave him a grin, showing a mouth full of yellow teeth.

I said nice cane, huh?

Oh, so you know English.

Some. When I need to. Or maybe when I will need to.

It may have been English, but it wasn’t making a lot of sense. There was something else disturbing about the guy. There was a bit of déjà vu about him. He had fierce looking eyes, tremendously bushy eyebrows, and very long hair. Very long, and very dirty.

Jed decided it was time to try and make sense out of all this.

OK, who are you, and what are you doing here?

What am I doing here? I should ask you what you are doing here. Perhaps I should ask you what you are doing here now.

Look, I just rescued you. I think you owe me the answers here.

Well, don’t you recognize me? We have met before. Actually, we have met twice before, or maybe I should say that we will have met twice, once before, and once after.

This guy was getting on Jed’s nerves. What was this bit with answering every question with another question? Why did he ask what I was doing here now? And he did look like somebody he met once. But Jed had never been in a place like this before, and this guy didn’t look like much of a traveler.

Look, I’ll make this simple. One question at a time. Where are we? I mean, where are we geographically located on the earth’s surface?

That’s easy. We are in the Syrio- African rift.

The what?

The rift. Rift Valley. Between Africa and Asia.

Comp- what is he talking about?

Sir, there is such a rift. The information is of only marginal use, since the rift is thousands of kilometers long. We could be anywhere from Ethiopia to Turkey, sir.

"OK. Where in this rift are we located? Be