In OPEN SPACE

                                 (Dayéd and Lazra)

 

 

Discovery of the sculpture:

The statue of David, standing naked upright in graceful balance on its pedestal, is in a semi-desert valley far out in open space, immersed in a shady illumination coming from some remote lighting body of the star system of which it has become a part. It is not the original work, to tell the truth, but rather a copy of the outstanding figure that the artist Michelangelo Buonarroti sculpted at the beginning of the 16th century after Christ on the planet Earth, out of a big block of marble, about twice as tall as a man who already is himself very tall. The dimensions of this copy are half those of the original piece, and therefore they approximately correspond to the actual size of a man. Even though it is daytime, the sky overlooking the statue is pitch-black and starry, not made blue by the dispersion of light in the atmosphere as is that in which the original sculpture was brought into being, but one may still well discern the elegant lines and proportions in the composition of the parts and the whole. 

At a short distance, an extra-terrestrial being is walking along his path of sand, rocks and stones which leads him to overstep the ridge of a slight headland and therefore come within sight of the ample, open valley in which the sculpture rests. The creature, wrapped up in a protective space suit, has a different body from that of the terrestrials, but the overall dimensions of his build, as well as his general body shape, are not altogether foreign to those of a man.

The extra-terrestrial is taken aback in the first place, astounded and uncertain at the sight of the unusual and unexpected object. After the pause of a few moments in which he musters up his feelings and thoughts, he takes a few steps down the slight and short slope that leads to the valley in which the statue stands. With hesitant and uncertain moves, but all the more curious, he makes his way toward it. As he is approaching, while maintaining a fearful and cautious attitude, he gets reassured in not noticing any sudden effects caused by that presence, and feels appreciation for the composure and  the graceful proportions of the human figure represented. Once he arrives in close proximity to it, in front of it and slightly to the side, he stops again, gazing at it enchanted and in wonderment. He stares at its face, and then at its different parts, and finally moving all around it with tentative steps. Next, he reaches out and touches it, in order to get a feel of his consistency, even though through the inert thickness of his space suit. At the contact he feels a force coming to him from the object, and he is overwhelmed by a sensation of serenity and harmony. After a few instants of daze, the extra-terrestrial being goes back in his mind to what the goal for his presence in that place is, and by pressing some switches on the outside of his helmet he activates a communication with his planet-mate companions, a few of which are not far away from where he is standing. They converse in their own language, the most widespread on planet Gaia, different from any idioms of planet Earth, and therefore normally incomprehensible to women and men, although it is also emitted out of the inferior opening of the face of those living beings.

 

First perplexities:

After a short period of time, the entire team of 9 units is reunited in the same place, in order to verify in person the novelty of the object just discovered, in a spirit which ranges from the astonished and incredulous enchantment to a fearful and deferential interest. In fact, even though the statue represents a being of another species, with respect to themselves from planet Gaia, a great emotional intensity is conveyed through it to them. Several of the team units step closer and gather around it, they speechlessly tilt their heads, they change points of view, and they touch the marble with curiosity and awe, and all of them, at the physical contact, perceive the same sensation as if of a harmonious sound. Some of the team stand back and watch for the most part the approaches and the reactions of their companions.

After a close observation, one of the group takes a few steps back to reach a certain distance behind the statue, where the first discoverer stands upright and awaiting, as he’s watching the scene. He arrives by his side, and looking at him he touches his arm and with a gesture of his head he signals to follow him.

Shortly thereafter, they both find themselves along with two other companions inside the closely spaced cabin of a little space-ship. They have taken their helmets off, although they are still wearing their space suits, and they can speak comfortably in their language.

-- “And you sighted it right there where it stands?”, asks of the first discoverer the one that approached him, who appears to be a shrewd supervisor.

-- “Yes”, answers the other one, “I was coming from the higher plane, and I was accomplishing one of the usual inspection routes to see if there were any rises of the Atlantis stone. For this time as well we have already collected enough, but I was doing that basically in order to set up the next expedition. All of a sudden I noticed that… thing”, and he makes a gesture with his arm to indicate the direction in which lies what he is talking about.

-- “And you didn’t notice anything else in particular?”, asks one of the other two present, “Didn’t you spot anybody? Nothing or no-one moving?”

-- “No. I mean… I didn’t see anything, not that there wasn’t.”

-- “It has been a while now”, intervenes the fourth one in a thoughtful manner, “that a sort of tacit agreement has existed between us and the inhabitants of Threesix, so that when they come to Atlas to get their supplies of stones, we don’t , and vice versa. Up to this moment, there have never been any particular or unexpected situations or events. It is since the time of the wars that we haven’t bothered each other anymore. But if that object does not come from the inhabitants of Threesix, who else ever might have been on visit to Atlas?”

-- “I wouldn’t know…”, continues to answer the first discoverer, “but as far as I’m concerned that thing is not a bother.”

-- “Alright”, says the one who started the discussion, “let us gather together, finish loading, and head back to Gaia”.

 

Toward the satellite Atlas:

In open space where one may discern planets and stellar bodies of various types and dimensions, and where the reflected lights and colors fade in and out varying the intensity according to the time and the period of position of the stars, a space-ship of medium size, escorted by two smaller ones at the sides of its trail, is lifting up and moving away from a vividly illuminated planet, and is heading at cruising speed toward a little star, the most relevant space body in the proximity of the planet.

On board the main space-ship is located a functional and discreet room, a sort of studio and working laboratory that, as all the other environments of the vehicle, is equipped with what is strictly necessary to the activities which from time to time take place in it, with no accessories or implements that are useless and superfluous. A guy is in there, of the same species of aliens as before, and he is standing solitary in front of a full-height glass window, staring outside into the open and endless depths, with a meditative air.  

The inhabitants of planet Gaia, as has been mentioned, have an aspect of dimensions and proportions similar to those of the human body. They, too, have legs, arms, a torso and a head as men do, but they are slimmer in their limbs, have slighter masses, and so on the whole they appear thinner and more slender. To tell the truth, their specific consistency is such that they have an average weight very close to that of the terrestrials, despite what their figure would suggest to the eye. In particular their heads are more elongated in the back, where sometimes they are also larger, and in the lower part of their face, that is in their cheeks and chins. Their eyes are opaque and less penetrable than those of men, but they are enormous by comparison, and in proportion with their whole face, and they lie in an inclined position, with the higher part toward the outside. Their nose have a very little protuberance, and their mouth consists in a thin and short opening, with a mobility that exceeds in nimbleness and promptness that of the human lips. The exterior skin of the gaiasis (inhabitants from Gaia) may be yellow-ochre, or blue.    

The fellow who is staring out the window is wearing clothes that respond to the bodily needs of the particular astral climate, with no frills nor ostentation. At a short distance from where he stands, a table is positioned along with a few seats, and other supports fixed at different heights, on which to sit or lean against. One of the two councillors-collaborators that are accompanying him on his journey is sitting at the table, while the other one is standing and is in part attentive to the acts of the fellow at the window, and in part turned toward his colleague. The two councillors wear formal suits, not particularly showy or elegant, but aspiring to be typical of a certain exterior distinction, the equivalent, in short, of the suit and tie among men of planet Earth. The councillor who is on his feet steps closer to the companion sitting at the table, bends over toward him, and the two mumble something, and they take glances of sceptical and somewhat teasing expectation in the direction of the individual at the glass wall, engrossed in his own thoughts. The councillor on his feet, finally walks toward him. 

-- “Tell me, councillor”, the fellow at the window urges him.

-- “President Shalon, the Interplanetary Guardians that are escorting us along onto the satellite Atlas mean let you know that they joined the expedition, and they are well disposed to carry on their assistance, only in the case that this is welcome and appreciated, otherwise, they say…”, and he turns to give an ironic look to his companion, “…at just one word they would disappear into the air”, he concludes looking at the President with an air of derision, while the latter goes on regardless staring out the window. 

-- “Yes it is appreciated”, answers the President thoughtfully and a little uneasily, “almost always I appreciate it, and I have said that several times as well”. After a moment’s reflection he adds: “There are times when I wonder whether I still would have the same attitude toward them if my daughter didn’t feel that instinctive affection for their Order”. He then turns to give a look to his collaborator right next to him and he lets his thoughtful composure be taken over by a momentary confidential laugh, “What a situation, though, huh? The President of the Council of the Twelve from planet Gaia who is influenced in his official and public behaviour by the motions of his little daughter’s heart! What would some members of the Government Assembly say, even though on my own side?”

The collaborator hints at a tight smile, pondering whether to show off embarrassment, but then he continues: “The object that we are on our way to visit was discovered approximately ten days ago on Atlas, by one of our teams of stone-quarriers that periodically go there to collect their supplies. It seems that it has a certain magnetic effect on whoever sees it or touches it”, and then he gives his colleague sitting at the table another look of complicity, “As requested by the extraordinary session of the Council, a group of researchers immediately set out surveying the matter in order to ascertain and arrange all the information at hand. We will meet them upon our arrival at Atlas.”

-- “Fine. We will see”, answers the President Shalon while becoming meditative again, and observing the satellite Atlas out the window, growing bigger as they move closer to it. President Shalon is an inhabitant from Gaia with a rather robust bulk, with respect to other members of his species, although by comparison with men and women, as already mentioned, these extraterrestrials are on the average slighter and more slender in the proportions. He does not love pomp, luxuries and frills, and even in worldly things which have a certain impact on the outward appearance he constantly aspires to gestures, situations, events, instruments being exactly what is required by their own nature and by the task which they are called to carry out, avoiding wastes and useless excesses, as well as all that regards ostentation and appearances.

 

Visit to the find:

The convoy consisting in the space-ship of the President of the Twelve and the two retinue space-shuttles subsequently land on the satellite Atlas, and the President himself along with his two collaborators-councillors descend from the first one, whereas the two Interplanetary Guardians exit the escort vehicles. The Guardians are an independent and discreet presence, and nevertheless an important reference for Shalon. The group of researchers, who has been taking care of the discovered object for a few days, receives them upon their arrival at the space station as visiting guests. There isn’t any particular crowding, those are present for the most part who have had something to do with the event in some way., more or less directly, but no public. 

-- “President Oma’b Shalon”, starts out the supervisor of the young scholars, “on behalf of the Interplanetary Knowledge and Experimentation Group I wish to express to you the warmest welcome onto the satellite Atlas. It is an immense honor that you grant us with your personal visit in answer to our solicitation, all the more that on account of the circumstances the timing at our disposal has been really scanty. We are aware of the intention of the Council of the Twelve not to attribute much emphasis to this find in the public opinion until it is understood and known with a certain degree of certitude what it represents and what implications it might have for planet Gaia and its population. However, our latest observations have revealed to us facts that we considered it opportune to share as soon as possible with the Council, so that they could be debated and evaluated, if this was deemed necessary, by subjects in charge of governing decisions.”

The President and his crew exchange a few glances, understanding that there is important novelty of which they are going to gain knowledge.

 

Once they reach the resting place of the statue, that has been purposely maintained in the position in which the team of quarriers initially discovered it, Shalon, the members of the Council and the Interplanetary Guardians become acquainted with the find and the information at hand:

-- “It is made out of a stony material”, continues the supervisor of the researching group, “which is found neither on Atlas, nor on planet Gaia, nor in this star system; judging by how the object presents itself, it is not immediately deducible how it might have gotten to Atlas, and how it has been positioned in this manner. However there are a few signs engraved at the base of the figure, in front of it and slightly off to the side, which at first glance don’t seem to have any particular meaning for us. After meditations and researches carried out with the keenest possible skill and expertise, our investigating team has come to consider those as a writing expressed in several different languages, even though we are not familiar with any of them. We have agreed on according to it a unique interpretation: that the work is the reproduction of a sculpture of the 16th century in the Christian era of planet Earth, and that it represents a man, an inhabitant of such a place; one of them has fashioned it, and it has been situated here as a sign of brotherhood, of favorable disposition and good hope on behalf of its producers toward the other creatures that might encounter it.” 

-- “But how can it possibly be that someone brought it over here and nobody on Gaia was aware of anything anyhow?”, the President asks astounded.

-- “I wouldn’t know for sure, but if the means of transport had been very small size, or if this object had actually arrived here somehow on its own, it probably might have come through unobserved…”

Shalon remains silently thoughtful, and so the young researcher goes on:

-- “Moreover, in this spot here the inscription says that the object has the peculiarity of coming to life, moving and speaking, on the occasion of a particular cosmic conjunction, described here, which occurs every 500 years. The calculation of the times was carried through and, according to the date of creation of the work, we deduced that the recurrence of such a conjunction is about to take place in a very short time.”

-- “When should this particular cosmic conjunction take place?”, the President Shalon asks somewhat uncertain and surprised. “And how exactly would the object come to life and start speaking?”

-- “The moment of the conjunction will occur in five days from now, and the statue will animate itself for the time period of one night. We just do not know exactly in which way it will become animated, but the idea that we elaborated is that its inert matter, in a sense, will be brought to life. This is what the message says, inscribed in its pedestal.”

Once the visit to the object of the discovery is accomplished and the report of the latest news is through, the President, the Guardians, the representatives of the research group and most of the people present, gradually move away from the location of the find, whereas the two councillors who have accompanied Shalon still linger around, and continue to observe the statue.

-- “What do you say?”, asks the one of the two who was sitting at the table on board the space-ship.

-- “I don’t know what to say or think. All I know is what we have been told: that the subject represented by that solid is a form of alien life, living somewhere in the infinite space”, and in saying these last few words he opens his eyes wide and raises his brows.

-- “It is as long as the message was correctly interpreted, and if there even is a message at all, in those scribbles down there”, and in the meantime they go on staring at the figure.

-- “This would be the first form of contact between us and… another living species. One certainly has a hard time realizing that a fact like this is possible…”, he concludes giving his colleague a sceptical and condescending look, and stretching a faint sneer.   

 

Lazra…:

Here is the pretty face of a girl, that is a young terrestrial woman, endearing and most of all with an intelligent and interesting expression, and with red-brown and curly hair of medium length that hangs bouncing down over her shoulders. As she is nibbling at her lips, she musters up her concentration, arranges her ideas, and once again goes over in her mind the things that she means to say, after which she rubs the fingers in her hands with a certain nervousness, plucks up her courage and she steps closer to a soft seating support of the living-room (a sort of couch) on which are seated or leaned against three gaiasi girls, and one young gaiasi man by the name of Raski. 

-- “Excuse me, but I don’t think that this is fair. I mean, if there is something to do in the house, whether it is taking out the trash, in all the different sorts of it, or doing the laundry when it happens that Mom and Pop are away, or any others of the common chores of the household, it is always me that take care of them. After that, if something unexpected happens that has to be looked after, or if Mom and Pop need to ask a favor, even though, poor them, they hardly ever do that, it always comes down to me. You guys, in the best case, say yes I will, but then all the time you keep putting it all off either until the last minute, when there isn’t any more time to do anything, or until somebody else finally takes care of it.”

The young gaiasis exchange astounded stares among each other, almost in disbelief to be hearing these things through their own ears.

-- “Lazra, nobody ever told you to do anything”, observes one of the gaiasi girls, with a severe and contemptuous tone. “You do what you feel like. If you want to do the laundry, go ahead and do your own, and leave the other clothes aside! I will not come to you and tell you what to do!”

-- “But if there are some things to be done”, replies Lazra, “it is right for everyone to do their part, when the need arises, and not just pretend nothing’s happening…”

-- “Lazra, aren’t you ashamed to go analyzing who does what and how?”, it is the male now that assumes a hostile attitude. “With your sisters and brother? You are not even a real member of this family, can’t you see yourself? You have been adopted 12 years ago, we rescued and retrieved you, thank goodness, from that disaster of a space-shuttle where all of your terrestrial companions died, and in which you too, certainly, would not have survived for a long time. Now you put yourself on the same level as those who were born and raised here? So much for manifestations of gratitude!” In saying this, Raski has stood up, and although Lazra is not intimidated nor does she lose her composure, he gets worked up and gestures around theatrically while uttering certain expressions.

-- “If I were you I would be ashamed of myself!...”, intervenes another one of her sisters.

-- “What does that have to do with it? Of course I am thankful for that”, responds Lazra in a slightly lower voice and with an unsteady glance, “But as people who live in the same place it is fair that everyone gets committed to his or her own share of common duties, all of them, possibly also by turns, and not just looking the other way until the dirt and the trash piles up to the neck, or someone else finally gets around to it…” After all, however, Lazra doesn’t want to quarrel, because she feels that coming down to that wouldn’t change anything. 

-- “And you persist in telling others what they must do, huh? Do you realize that?”, exclaims with emphasis her brother.

At this point Oma’b Shalon, the President of the Council of the Twelve of Gaia, walks in and says hello to everybody present.

-- “Hi, kids! You are all here tonight, did you guys set this up? It hardly ever happens!”

-- “Hi, Pop!”, “Hi!”, Lazra’s sisters promptly greet him, standing up and running to hug him and kiss him with smiles and a little sweet talk.

-- “Hello!...” is Raski’s matter-of-fact welcome, as he doesn’t budge, and, indeed, he sits back down.

Lazra barely sways in his direction and mumbles ‘hi’, but then it is Shalon himself that walks up to her and gives her a kiss.

-- “How is my favourite daughter doing?”, and then turning toward everyone: “Have you guys eaten already?”

-- “No, not yet…” answers Raski.

-- “Oh, kids!”, resumes Shalon, “I set up in the other room two quantities of minor scraps: can anybody please take them to the collection center? They only need to be turned in as they are!”

-- “I am leaving just now…”, says the young gaiasi man, while consulting a pocket monitor, “and maybe I will not even make it back in time for supper!”

Shalon exits.

-- “I need to finish getting ready and I am late”, announces also one of the daughters, and walks out, accompanied by a sister. Lazra and the youngest daughter are now the only ones left in the room, and the latter plays for time in rummaging through a cupboard set in the wall. Lazra looks down, and sets out in the direction that the President Shalon walked in, toward the two quantities of minor scraps. 

 

…survivor from space:

Oma’b Shalon then enters a service room, slightly less spacious than the previous living-room, and provided with various equipment and instrumentation for the preservation and the cooking of food and for the manipulation of other substances which can be useful for the domestic activities. As a matter of fact, in here Shalon’s wife uses, in one area, a stove and a few fires to cook food, and, in an adjacent environment, greater ovens for the firing of ceramic and porcelain forms, which she first models at an appropriate desk. Besides the fires, stoves and ovens for a variety of needs, in this room there are preservation cupboards, also at particular temperatures, tables and working counters, several utensils for foods and various substances, and seats at different heights to lean against or sit upon. The wife and mother is particularly concerned with keeping order, cleanliness, and distinction of the activities that are scarcely compatible with each other, so that anyone, at any moment, may come in here and prepare some food comfortably, whereas she might be handling quite different matters just a few steps away. In the house there is also another room which is used in a similar way, although it is uniquely a working laboratory with no cooking, since it is much more demanding in regard to maintenance and cleanliness, as her husband carries out manual activities in there for the production and assembly of various artifacts which imply a greater amount of scraps and rejects. 

At the moment Mrs. Shalon is at work, and is preparing some food for the next meal, coming up in a few minutes. She is standing in front of a basin full of water, in which she is rinsing some products of the earth of the planet, and as they are ready she lays them down on a working counter beside her.

-- “Hi Merie,” her husband addresses her on walking in, “how are you?”, he steps closer to give her a kiss on the cheek.

-- “Fine, thank you. Supper will be ready soon, for those who are hungry. I heard that you were on transfer today.”  

-- “Yes”, he answers as he heads for a sort of wide sink, on the other side of the room, and washes up in his turn some tools resting there, positioning them to dry into a cupboard at the height of his head. “We went onto satellite Atlas to take a look at an object that was discovered a few days ago.” He closes off the water faucet and stops, becoming thoughtful. “It is a solid made of stone representing a man, a terrestrial man”, he continues turning around toward her, and looking at her with a certain gravity. She stares at him, amazed, incredulous and speechless.

-- “There is a message engraved into its pedestal, saying that it was sent from planet Earth on behalf of some of its inhabitants as a sign of brotherhood and friendship, that in five days from now it will come to life for one night, and so, presumably, we will soon have other information. This is all we know for now.” 

-- “What do you think?”

-- “I don’t know, for now I will just wait until it’s animated…”.

-- “Oma’b”, Merie starts to say with seriousness and an intense emotion, groping for the simplest words, “Lazra is a daughter for us, and you have a particular affection for her too.” She takes a pause of reflection, about something that is not even clear yet in her soul. “Up until now, we have chosen along with her the individual type of education and upbringing, for her as well as for the other kids. So they have always been to basically private and out-of-the-way environments. Lazra, therefore, in part for this reason and in part because of her own reserved nature, never has been particularly noticed for being a terrestrial girl, besides the people that she usually sees and meets and who deal with her, for the most part in this district. Otherwise it wouldn’t have been for her a relatively quiet and common life.” Shalon is staring at her, and listening carefully. “But if this fact of the find should turn out to be important for all the gaiasis, do you think that we should somehow introduce Lazra officially to the public and to the authorities?”

-- “First of all Lazra is 19-years-old now, and is therefore responsible for herself, but if she asked me for an opinion I would tell her: and for what reason? For what purpose? What could a 19-year-old terrestrial survivor possibly do? I wouldn’t want to go looking for clamors or useless and pointless bothers.”

 

About the Order of the Interplanetary Guardians:

Lazra deeply loves to spend time in natural environments and landscapes, in which the vegetation, the fruits and the products of the earth of Gaia grow without the contact and the effect of the artificial manipulations. Not far away from where she lives a place exists of wide extensions, which is appreciated and attended by many, when the climatic conditions permit it, because although there are a few streets, lanes and a number of buildings, it is primarily inhabited by nature, in several different forms and variations of landscape. There are wide open fields, woods more or less thick with vegetation, deposits of weather precipitations, and areas and environments suitable for certain animals. Lazra loves to go there most of all by herself, when she can read, meditate, at times also pick up edible vegetables.

Right at this moment she is sauntering along a lane lined with trees on both sides, keeping company with two Interplanetary Guardians, Gus-par and Yu’ko, who are just a little older than she is herself. By the side of the path is, on one hand, thick vegetation of trees and bushes, and, on the other hand, a vast open field of grass and short plants. Lazra is walking on one side of all three of them, and the Guardians are on her right-hand side. Her hands are thrust into her pants pockets, and she is also wearing a sort of ample jersey. She usually dresses in a casual and comfortable fashion, taking care in being as much at ease as she can in the situations that she finds herself in and for what she has to do, rather than in elegance in itself or in exterior appearances. In this she is very similar to her adoptive father. The two Guardians are both wearing the habit that is characteristic to them, having no cowl over their heads, and the one closer to Lazra, Gus-par, has his arms bent at a right angle in front of him, and his hands crossed at the height of his belly, whereas Yu’ko has joined them behind his back.    

-- “Thank you again for coming. This time you really gave immediate availability!”, observes Lazra laughing.

-- “Oh, it is our pleasure”, answers Gus-par next to her, “because we know that you have an affection for our Order. The only thing is that, maybe, if your father knew that we meet so often he might feel a little awkward in the administrative matters”

-- “As a matter of fact, he knows that I know you guys, but not that I hang out with you.” They remain silent for a moment. “In what way do you guys deal with him?”

-- “Us personally, not much”, replies Yu’ko with a slight smile, walking on the opposite side. “The Order of the Interplanetary Guardians in general does. They carry out a function of assistance, support, sometimes of guidance, other times of advice, to the government organs of several entities, such as a district, an association of districts, as is the case of the Council of the Twelve of which your father is President, or also something else, outside of planet Gaia. The Order assists the administrative organization of several planets in this stellar system. Not all of them, not of the planet Threesix, for instance.”

-- “How do you determine the degree to which you assist or guide a certain administration?”

-- “We cannot force anybody to do anything”, resumes Gus-par. “It is all up to the desire, to the resolve of the administration itself. On the whole, those who choose to consult us know that what we propose to them is to their own good, and it’s meant to be useful and advantageous for them. If other questions arise, the relations are off, with no problem. The fact is that the Guardians are projected and devoted to the inner life, to cultivating the spirit. Periodically, for instance, they spend some time in total solitude, and they constantly search within themselves for their own resources, and this is what really counts for them. They aspire to be detached and independent of any mundane things or activities. For this reason, and since they continuously move from one place to the other, they encourage the hope that their activity is not easily corrupted by bias, yearning, or greed of any kind, and that it may not be affected by the attachment to material possessions, places or to particular temporal situations.”

-- “How are those things established among you guys? How do you… learn them?”

-- “There’s actually a Statute that defines our behaviour, and sets some rules. The Statute of the Order. Usually you may pick us out from the suit that we wear too, since apart from minor variations, we all wear a habit with a cowl.”

-- “Is it just for males?”

-- “No. There is a Statute for females as well”, resumes Yu’ko, “even though they take part in the Order in a more reserved and private manner. They seldom meet with members of the administrations, for instance.”

-- “Do you guys get married?”

-- “Only in very particular cases”, he goes on. “It is not forbidden, but usually a living being, from planet Gaia or elsewhere, who chooses to join the Order, consecrates his or her life to the service.”

Lazra remains silent and thoughtful.

 

Oppositions:

The President of the Twelve is now walking along an ample and airy corridor of communication among several collective chambers of the Palace of the Government Assembly. He is conversing superficially with a few collaborators that are accompanying him about upcoming commitments and appointments, when he realizes that ahead on his path a renowned public official is awaiting him, with a tight affected smile, and escorted by two assistants. As he arrives next to them, they set out in stride along with him. 

-- “President Shalon”, the public official addresses him with a persuasive tone at first, “you know the respect and the consideration that we feel and that we have always retained toward you and the position that you hold, as several times we have had the chance to declare and to demonstrate. Also, the profound devotion, which characterizes our actions towards the country and the planet Gaia in general, has always been manifest. Well, it is in the name of this that we would like to remind you that the satellite Atlas, on which the statue was discovered, is a reserve of stone and rock quarries not only for us gaiasis, but also for the inhabitants of the planet Threesix, which in certain stellar periods approaches the position of Gaia so much that it is visible to the naked eye even in daylight. It is known that its inhabitants have no scruples in taking advantage of any circumstances barely favourable to them in order to discourage their competitors from continuing to make use of the reserves on Atlas. Also, as long as they can turn out to be irreproachable from a formal point of view and of the interstellar code, they will not even retain from any aggressive and violent behaviour.”

-- “Honestly”, the President Shalon answers in a passive and calm way, “even though I recall the situations and the episodes that have taken place in the past, I must say that it has been a while since the tension with the inhabitants from Threesix has let up, despite the reserves on Atlas are not reforming as rapidly as the quarriers are making use of them. Also, I don’t assume that a trick such as that of the statue would be in their ways: I don’t think that in order to hatch a plot or a device of argument they would have thought up an elaborate affair like this…”

-- “President,” the official now presses him with a more urging tone, as he steps out in front of him, “as experts in the Exchange and Commerce Relations of Gaia and Tannoiser, who in the past have also held important jobs of official management, we claim that despite the friendly and peaceful appearances of the message, and the emotional impact that the artefact seems to exercise upon anyone who approaches it, it is nothing more than the deceiving work of ill-intentioned adversaries. Falling into the trap would be the beginning of gloomy consequences!”

 

Encounter of Shalon with a few Guardians:

The President Shalon is in his office, standing by the side of his desk which sits next to an ample window. He has a darkened and restless air about him, and although he keeps his stare down to the objects on the table which he is fiddling with, he seems absent-minded, almost as if he were waiting for something.

The visitor-beeper rings out, so he presses the entrance button on his desk and he gets ready to receive company. Three Guardians walk in: Gahk, Juanio and Petr.

-- “Good morning, President Shalon! How are you?”, Gahk begins with delight, being the one with more presence of the three. “Good-morning”, Juanio and Petr also say, with friendly smiles.

-- “Good-morning, and welcome. I am alright, and by the appearances I would say the same about you guys.”

-- “It’s not bad, thank you. We have heard about your daughter, lately, it seems that she is turning into a very good person, of vivid and prompt spirit, attentive and interested.”

-- “My wife and I are a little concerned about her these days…”, and he turns his eyes back down to his desk.

-- “Is it because of that recent visit to Atlas? We have heard some information about the unusual and unexpected find.” Gahk’s tone of voice has now gotten more serious.

-- “Yes, dear Gahk”, he answers thoughtfully, turning to look at them again. “I was curious to see you and talk to you because of this, in fact. Would you like some juice? Or water, if you are thirsty?”

-- “Not me, thank you, I’m fine like this”, answers Gahk, “No, thank you”, “No, thank you”, Juanio and Petr also reply shaking their heads and smiling. It’s Petr now speaking:

-- “Is it true that despite a few oppositions and a number of different voices and opinions, of which some at least understandable, others senseless altogether, the resolution about to be taken is to bring the work onto Gaia, and accept it as a gift from outer space?”

Shalon listens to him looking at him, and then he turns his eyes down to the floor:

-- “That’s right, even though the expected session to decide that properly hasn’t taken place yet. Have you heard the whole story already?”

-- “I think so”, Gahk replies, “at least as much as was told us by the Guardians who escorted you along on your visit.”

-- “Well, what do you guys think? What do you say about this matter? I mean, I’m asking even just out of curiosity, as I have done other times, after that I don’t know what will come of this…”

Juanio intervenes:

-- “I was on Atlas. I believe it is an exceptional piece of work. It is a reproduction, not the original, but still it has an intensity and a grace to it that leave one in disbelief until they experience it directly. Also, it seems to emanate a hypnotic and magnetic force, it passes on a sort of electric shock, at the touch, except that it feels like a harmonious sound. In any case, I feel that we should trust it, and assume an attitude that grants it at least the benefit of the doubt, and therefore bring the object onto Gaia, yes, and accept it and receive it exactly for what it was communicated to us that it is, a gift and a sign of brotherhood and harmony. I believe it is a moral duty.”  

Petr adds:

-- “Then if the moment of the cosmic conjunction in which the figure should come to life and be animated is within three days, there will be a chance to set up the event and then additional information will be given which may be very important in order to establish any relations with terrestrial men and women.”

-- “Yes…”, resumes Gahk finally, “if you were opting to bring that object from space over here, wisdom will be on your side. Moreover, regardless of the efforts to keep the novelty undertone, the word spread out rapidly, and the inhabitants of Thoponim are in such fervent expectation that it is even hoped that it will be transported overland, so as to let it be seen as it passes by. It would be a worthy honor, for a gift worthy of honor.”

-- “And if it turns out to be a deceit? A trap that we are going to regret?”, Shalon asks anxiously.

-- “No…”, Gahk resumes slowly, with his stare fixed in the eyes of the President. “That won’t be it. There will be important matters to deal with, and dangerous too, maybe more than if it was actually a trap, but that piece in itself is not a lie.”

 

A supper at Shalon’s place:

Now it is at Shalon’s again, in the same living-room as before, where the confrontation between Lazra and her sisters and brother took place, and it is supper time, and as a matter of fact the terrestrial girl is sitting at the table along with her three sisters, her brother, her mother and three guests, of whom two young males, about the same age as Shalon’s daughters and son, and a more adult female by the name of Urie, who are friends of Oma’b and Merie’s. The atmosphere is familiar and confidential, and the participants are taking the food and entertaining themselves in liberty and light-heartedly.

-- “Lazra, if you see it you will fall in love, I assure you!”, Urie exclaims chuckling cheerfully. “It is a man, from your planet Earth. It is really a beautiful work, everybody says that. You just couldn’t get tired of looking at it, and you are being told by someone who has never had anything to do with men from the Earth!”

Lazra is astounded, and does not react. In spite of the high spirits of the conversation, she is emotionally struck.

-- “Yes…”Meire Shalon replies with a somewhat thoughtful tone and with her eyes turned down to the dishes on the table, “we’ll see what happens in a couple of days when it should be animated…”.

-- “I will certainly be there!”, exclaims again the gaiasi guest with enthusiasm.

Suddenly they hear a continuous acute sound, indicating a presence just arrived at the entrance, and Mrs. Shalon stands up: “Oh, excuse me for a moment, it must be Oma’b…”, and walks out.

-- “But how did it get to Atlas?”, Lazra asks with amazement.

-- “Nobody knows”, answers one of the two young acquaintances, by the name of Bool, “it is one of the reasons why they are expecting to have other information from the object itself.”

-- “There is something mysterious about that thing…!”, the other young guest comments straightforwardly. “I have heard that in touching it you feel a sort of shiver, and that it gives you sensations, particular emotions…”

-- “I don’t think that anybody brought it there, though…”, Lazra supposes, while staring ahead over the table absent-mindedly, as if she were reflecting out loud.

-- “Yes, but if you think something that doesn’t mean that it is true, huh!”, her brother observes sourly, and then exchanges a glance with one of the two male guests.

-- “In fact, I expressed an opinion about something I don’t know…”, she tries to explain, with a mild tone but clearly.

-- “Just think if it was to happen that relationships are established with someone from your own species, Lazra!”, Urie remarks to her.

-- “I wouldn’t know what to think…”, replies Lazra, with a smile.

-- “Just try and make some mental efforts sometimes, instead of always floating among planets!...”, another sister attacks her, the only one of the three younger than her, who then seeks a knowing look with Bool, while Raski bursts into a laugh that he tries to hold back.

-- “Lyha! Finish eating so I can change bowls!”, her mother suggests to her with an absent-minded tone, as she walks back in.

-- “Can just anybody go to the assembly where the object will come to life?”, asks Bool. Oma’b Shalon is now entering the room, and he answers himself:

-- “Yes, as long as there is room to occupy”, he stops in proximity of the table, setting his hands on his hips and glancing at the situation. “After which the admittances will begin to be set off, if the statue should still attract more.” Then he slowly steps closer to Lazra from behind her seat, he lays his hands on her shoulders, beside her neck, and he massages her delicately. “Lazra will be right there in the first line by Pop’s side, won’t she?”, he exclaims with a certain pride, and in asking her for confirmation he bends down toward her, and he gives her a kiss on the cheek. Raski and the eldest sister exchange a casual glance of envy and impatience, while Lazra half smiles with a slight embarrassment: she sincerely feels comforted, and she is very thankful for that, but she does not wish to be favored in any way. 

 

Entrance of the statue into the city:

The following day, which is the eve of the particular star conjunction mentioned by the inscription, the work original from the planet Earth is transported onto Gaia, and gets laid down outside of the city of Thoponim, capital of President Shalon’s district, which is the most important and influential one of the planet. Overland, the statue is pulled through one of the gateways of the city, without the use of pomp or ostentation, which the gaiasis are used to doing without even in ceremonies or in the public official situations. Despite the initial purpose not to give the matter great emphasis in the public opinion, the rumor has extended, and so has the sense of involvement and participation on the inhabitants’ part. As a matter of fact there is such curiosity, genuine enthusiasm and joyous festivity in the public who’s rushed over to accompany the statue along its path, that it probably is not of a lesser degree than at the moving of the original sculpture and its positioning in front of Palazzo Vecchio in Florence. It is decided then to head for the Palace of the Government Assembly, site chosen to receive the terrestrial find, performing a journey that includes ample and important streets and places, in order to let the enthusiastic public see and take part in the event. 

 

In particular, upon a vast terrace slightly elevated from street-level, in the crowd that is attending and at certain moments presses and swells, one may catch sight of the public official, who has expressed his opposition to the President Shalon, keeping company with his two assistants again. After observing for a little while, with deep disappointment and annoyance which confer to his face an unnatural expression of uneasiness, he slowly backs away together with his companions. In walking off with gravity, he spots a few steps away the two councillors who escorted Shalon onto Atlas, along with a third colleague, while they are watching the happening. The official steps closer to them, and as he’s gotten near enough to be heard even in the surrounding uproar he says:

-- “It’s been a wretched initiative, on the part of the senselessly blind! You will come to realize what a responsibility you have decided to take upon yourselves!”, and he stares the one closer to him in the eyes for an instant, after which he walks away.

 

At another point of the journey of the terrestrial find, somewhat closer to the Palace of the Government Assembly, Gahk and Juanio are standing one next to the other, with a relaxed and attentive air about them, and they watch as the object is withdrawn toward the entrance of the building. Gahk comments:

-- “Well, this is an event of importance and relevance probably greater than we can even imagine. It is true that Lazra has been on this planet for the past 12 years, but she is a survivor who has been adopted and grown up here. Now, instead, there is maybe an attempt to establish a contact between different species of living beings. I am curious to attend whatever happens at the cosmic conjunction…”, and he exchanges a glance with Juanio.

So, in the alternation between, on one hand, clamor, shouting and partying manifestations, and, on the other hand, of reverent silence and a concentrated attention, the statue arrives at the Assembly Palace, and here it gets positioned inside the huge main entrance hall, by the side of the doorway, in expectation of a more appropriate and definitive location.

 

The particular cosmic conjunction:

It is the night of the astral conjunction, and the spacious entrance-hall of the Palace of the Government Assembly is now packed with people of all kinds, all occupations and of all interests, arrived here to assist at the fateful happening, in which the statue from Earth should come to life and be animated, as is indicated by the engraving in its basement.

Public personalities are present who hold official jobs, as the President Shalon himself, who at this moment is meeting with his daughter Lazra and two of her sisters, and a few Councillors of the Twelve, who gather together and exchange opinions; some Interplanetary Guardians are in discreet and watchful expectation, among whom one may recognize Gahk, Juanio, Petr, and may spot those more in friendship with Lazra, Gus-par and Yu’ko, although younger and of less important presence, and others never seen before; and then there are curious private citizens, and among others stand Urie and Bool, who gather one next to the other in anxious, throbbing and deferential expectation. In spite of the excitement, originated from the hope and the trust, and the anxiety, caused by the unknown and the incertitude, the crowd holds in an orderly composure, emits a constant and undertone buzz, and is attentive and watchful about the situation. 

Some notice Lazra, never having met or seen her before, while she is waiting together with her sisters in proximity of her adoptive father, and they mumble comments to their neighbors. As the evening proceeds, and the buzz and the voices drop and fade away, the whole attention is absorbed by the terrestrial object. Sometimes a few attendants exchange glances among acquaintances or strangers, just to recover a little of the sense of community and sociality, because otherwise the figure from space attracts every spirit to itself.  

In the late evening, the statue begins to give out vibrations, at first almost imperceptibly, and then all the more intensely. It is vibrations of which one feels a penetrating physical impression, through the sense of hearing, in the form of a continuous and harmonious sound, and throughout the entire body, which is overrun by quivers. Those who have happened to touch the statue realize that it is the same sensation which they felt at the contact with it, only that now it occurs even without approaching it. Subsequently the matter of the statue, the marble, gradually dematerializes becoming more and more imperceptible and eventually transparent, vanishing altogether into the air.

In reverse and at the same time, from the figure fading away an immaterial presence appears, the spirit of the object, which becomes increasingly visible dissociating itself from its matter as it dissolves. At first it is in the same position as the body of the statue, and then it gradually starts to move, with the manners and the gestures of live men, although it is a spirit. It assumes a standing position, static and natural, withdrawing his sling from behind his back and pulling it together in his hands. Mustering up his concentration, he raises up his eyes hesitantly and, perfectly careless of his nudity, he addresses them over here and there at the crowd gathered around him. He is in a certain way intimidated by them, as if he felt that he couldn’t really deal with such a number of people.

As has been previously arranged by the President Shalon, a Guardian is the one who establishes the first contact on behalf of the President himself and of the Council of the Twelve of planet Gaia. It is Gahk, who takes a slow step forward toward the spirit, into the open space that has formed around it, and addresses it, slightly opening both arms, somewhat bent at the elbows, and with his hands relaxed but stretched open:

-- “Welcome onto the planet Gaia, of the constellation of Tannoiser. We, present here, are the inhabitants from Gaia, and we are in the city of Thoponim. The President of the Council of the Twelve, in attendance here, main responsible for the administrative organization of the planet, wishes to communicate, with the greatest cordiality, that it would be an invaluable honor to be possibly useful in making this a most pleasant stay for a very welcome guest such as yourself are for all the inhabitants of this planet.” After which he lowers his eyes in humble deference, and he performs a slow bow, putting his right hand close to his chest.    

 

The spirit of the sculpture:

-- “I give infinite thanks to everybody present here”, the bewildered spirit starts out timidly. “My name is Dayéd, and I am the spirit of the piece that you recovered and received into this place. At the end of the scheduled period of one night, I will vanish out of sight again, and the statue will re-form itself. It is established that it comes to life at intervals of 500 years. That object represents a man, that is a living-being original from the planet Earth, belonging to the stellar system of the Milky Way. Men, together with women, who are beings from the same species but of opposite sex, are the principal inhabitants of the Earth. They were created by God, who is the Spirit that gives life, and who, before them, has created the world and the universe.

Their civilization has always consisted in deepening the knowledge of themselves and, therefore, of the universe, and of what they could perceive through their senses, and of the things of the spirit.” The spirit of Dayéd visualizes to the eyes of the audience, by means of a sort of collective spiritual vision, some images that follow each other as he proceeds with his exposition, in order to illustrate or exemplify the subjects which he is recounting. Signs are shown, then, of a few transformations brought into the environment and to the matters of their planet. While talking, Dayéd turns primarily to Gahk, and then to the President Shalon, but also toward all those who surround him. “Ever since his origins, man has exerted himself to interact with the environment in which he found himself, in the attempt to make his life on Earth better and easier. He then began to manipulate matter, at first in order to fulfil primary and basic needs, such as nourishing and taking shelter, and subsequently for many other complementary and secondary necessities. He has developed the activities of hunting, fishing, cultivation of the earth, of constructions, and as men and women from nomads have become settlers they have built urban centers and great cities. They established and refined relations of exchange and commerce, and, in reference to nature and the Creation, they conceived ideas and interpretations regarding the immediate surrounding environment, the space and the universe, and subsequently, as time went by, they dedicated themselves to the observation and the particular study of natural and physical phenomena, withdrawing from them revelations and useful knowledge. In this manner, universal laws have been discovered of the becoming in time and space, which may be applied in order to provide men with instruments and techniques apt to satisfy their needs.” 

The images proceed to illustrate the inventions, the developments, and the innovations of the devices and the practical means of which men have availed themselves in the course of their history. Figures have already flashed by of the plough, of metals, fire, the pyramids, monuments, the wheel, graffiti, works of art, huts, sculptures, paintings, of different ages and places of origin.

-- “Through the use of writing”, continues Dayéd, “men have left testimonies to their own fellowmen in innumerable works, concerning the most different subjects and purposes, in order to edify or delight the spirit, as well as to illustrate and convey information and knowledge. Many doctrines, natural and technical knowledge have therefore been passed down in this manner in the course of their history, sometimes for centuries and millenniums.” Works of writing appear and vanish, followed by ancient and modern reproductions of figures, traced on yellowish heavy volumes, as well as projected over thin and transparent virtual screens. According to the spirit’s explanation, moreover, flashes are shown of boats, geographical maps, buildings, urban areas, means of transport. The images sometimes appear slowly, other times they follow in succession so rapidly that a superficial impression remains of each one, and basically they integrate into a general sensation of several of them together. 

-- “However”, he resumes, “unfortunately, too often it has happened that in the life of men, in the practical applications of the resources and knowledge, the purposes of hatred, violence and destruction prevailed over those, instead, of love, fraternity and charity, and that these were neglected, both in terms of priority, and of development in time. Therefore, absurdities can take place so that several nations possess weapons powerful enough to destroy the entire planet a number of times, or they abandon precious supplies and resources to waste, whereas in certain places vast segments of the population don’t even have enough with which to feed themselves. The crucial event in the history of men and women of the planet Earth, in the part of them which the soul that is speaking comes from, has been the incarnation of Jesus Christ, the Son of God Almighty, Creator of the skies, and the earths and of all things, visible and invisible contained in them. Every year the recurrence of his birthday is celebrated, and the history of men is punctuated by that event, between a before and an after.” Sculptures appear then, and paintings depicting the Cross, the Virgin Mother, the Apostles and the Saints. “However, his teaching of love, charity and peace gets so often altogether ignored and forsaken.” Images flash by of explosions, bombs, people suffering, and then other illustrations follow of violence, oppressions, acts sprung from greed and covetousness, and of pains and hurting endurances, which are maybe less evident, but present and diffuse. 

-- “The object that you recovered from Atlas is the reproduction of a sculpture dating back to the 16th century after Christ, accomplished by Michelangelo Buonarroti, a terrestrial from the country of Italy. This here speaking is the soul of that object and represents the spirit of David, king of Israel of 1000 before Christ. That work being a copy of the original, which is still on Earth, this spirit is an insignificant part of the emanation, a remote reflection, of David’s spirit, of faint truth and dim intensity. Such a reproduction of the original was produced along with many others by a few conscientious and righteous men, of different origins, cultures and conditions, who rebelled against systems of power of their planet which brought with no scruples to the oppression of the spirit and dignity of man and to the devastating exploitation of the available resources, in the name of money, violence, and of power. These men, organizing themselves underground, placed statues like this one, that is reproductions, inside interstellar space-vessels and they launched them into space, in the hope of establishing friendly and brotherly relations with any other forms of extraterrestrial life. So please accept what you have found on Atlas, first of all as a token, and then as a gift if appreciated, of fraternity and good hope. The vessels were fashioned in such a way that, once they picked out the vicinity of a planet surface, they auto-positioned to hit the ground and then split open and rapidly wear off, leaving the sculpture standing on its feet on the planet or satellite encountered. This also has been the destiny of the sample that you discovered.”   

When he finishes speaking, the President Shalon takes a look at Gahk, who returns it back at him, and then at Juanio and Petr, near by Shalon. Lazra is standing in proximity of her father, and she is wearing a veil that screens part of her face and her neck, and she is therefore not entirely visible, and the attention which she draws to herself is rather spare. President Shalon then begins speaking:

-- “In listening to your explanation I have confirmed my supposition that the object discovered was a precious find, of immense value. I would like to express the most sincere gratitude to you in particular for what you recounted, and to the men and women whom you talked about for sending it.”

-- “Infinite thanks to you all for receiving the statue upon Gaia, and into this particular place…”, replies the soul Dayéd.

Time is passing quickly, however, and the spirit, a little at a time, recovers his usual composure upon its marble pedestal, as its movements become more and more corporeal and slowed down by the condensation of the masses, and while its voice fades away, he turns hard, massive and heavy.

The gaiasis in attendance look at each other and reflect, now for the most part informed and convinced of the origin and the goal of the find recently discovered. A citizen, who’s grown curious, utters to the companion by his side:

-- “And now he won’t spell a word for another 500 years!...Can you imagine that?” 

-- “Hard to believe it. Ehi, but I will be there! Maybe just like him, in spirit!...”, the other one concludes.

 

A dream of the President Shalon:

The following day, arrangements are made immediately in order to give the sculpture a new location, definitive and of greater importance, in which it can be properly visited and appreciated. It is therefore transported into an adjacent room, ampler and collective, which serves as a communication hall towards several assembly chambers, habitually used by public figures and by common citizens for several purposes. The statue gets cleaned up and polished.

 

That night, the President Shalon has a dream. He pictures that the statue comes back to life, as it is expected to do in the future on the occasion of the next cosmic conjunction, and not in the form of aerial and incorporeal spirit, but instead in that of an actual man, with a body of flesh and blood characteristic to his species, animated by the spirit just encountered. In the dream, his daughter, still a little girl even younger than she actually is at the moment, plays with a ball on a pier on the shore of the Orion sea, and the ball slips from her hands and falls into the water. The statue, in flesh and blood,  reaches her from the shore, where he saw what happened, and reassures her, promising that he will go and get it back for her. A few minutes later he breaks back above the water, holding in his hands the little girl’s toy and a city in miniature, both of which he entrusts to the Lazra’s hands. The dream fades out with the two of them exchanging affectionate and intense looks, before he finally steps back and moves away.

 

A Council of the Twelve…:

The day after, Shalon walks through the doorway of the Palace of the Government Assembly, and heads for the chambers. In passing by the statue, he stops and stares at it thoughtfully. He surprises himself mumbling out loud:

-- “…you stay away from my daughter!...”, half ironically and half seriously.

Shortly afterwards, he is sitting at a slightly elliptical table, together with the various members of the council in an extraordinary session, which is taking place in one of the chambers of small size. The President Shalon is situated at one end of the longer side of the table. In catching sight of them from a few steps away, their debate might be perceived as a buzz in which one may barely make out a few more stressful tones or some more acute sounds. As one steps closer, however, it might get more distinct that they are discussing the recent happening. The entrances to the room where they are sitting are open, and every now and then someone walks in to bring full bottles of water in replacement of the empty ones. The councillors, from time to time, take a drink from the glasses to wet their conversation. The ceiling is usefully low, and at this moment the table and the relative seats around it are the only equipment inside the room.

-- “…certainly I understand the Guardians when they assert that this event has historical significance, unprecedented in the past ages of planet Gaia, and of the entire system of Tannoiser, for that matter, that is the attempt of a contact between our species and that of men and women of the planet Earth. This is undoubtedly an extraordinary situation, but I consider that as long as it hasn’t been ascertained, with the due care and caution, in what we can make ourselves available and useful in relation to the people who sent those objects into space, it is opportune not to raise any expectations or deceiving enthusiasms regarding what is beyond the real and concrete possibilities for us gaiasis to do.”

-- “I agree with what the colleague is asserting”, intervenes another councillor sitting at the table, while the President Shalon and the others pay attention carefully. “So much so that he was very optimistic and confident in his statements. I mean to say that there are no doubts that it’s impossible with the only information that we have been provided with by that…appearance, to conclude in a wise and concrete manner what ever actually might be done.”

-- “Well…”, continues a third one. “It is a fact that, a part from what we have been told regarding the civilization of terrestrial men and women and their difficult situation, current or past that it might be, we do not have at our disposal any particular names, or references of any kind, or any position-coordinates so as to think about attempting an initiative, or meeting somebody. If we even had the opportunity and the will to do something, it would be impossible to decide from who or what or where to begin…”, and in pronouncing these last words, he runs his eyes over the faces of his colleagues present at the table, without meeting with any replies.

 

…and a meeting with Lazra:

Not a long time afterwards, the President Shalon is proceeding solitary, discomforted and down-hearted, along an ample corridor, the same one in which he encountered the public official who was opposing to the transport of the statue onto Gaia. Other busy people are accidently rushing by his side, in the one sense and the other, some in a hurry, while others are standing around, either talking in company, or by themselves reading a paper.

 

It is the night of the same day, Lazra is alone in her room, at home, sitting at a desk. She is writing something by hand on some sheets of paper, taking the starting point from a text that she is rolling along on a flat monitor-screen, slightly tilted, incorporated in the desktop. At the same time she is nibbling some food for supper from a plate, resting on a hanging plane close by. She hears knocking at the door and she says: “Come in!”. Her adoptive father sticks his head  in.

-- “Hi, Lazra…”, he says with a uneasy tone of voice.

-- “Hi, Pop! How are you doing?”

-- “Good enough, thank you.”, he answers as he steps further inside the room. “How are you? What do you say about the spirit of the sculpture?”

-- “Well,…”, she stands up as her eyes are livening up, and her enthusiasm mounts at the subject, “…I’m sorry that he disappeared again!”. She starts rubbing her hands with a certain nervous excitement. Her glance runs here and there, almost as if it were caught in slight embarrassment, and she is visibly passionate at considering the revelations of two nights before.

-- “I imagine…”, answers melancholic Shalon.

-- “It’s ever since I was 7-years-old that I hadn’t seen a fellowman of mine…or something that reminded me of one…Also, poor him, I believe that what he said was fascinating.”

-- “Yes, I thought he was sort of a nice guy too. Listen, though, I wanted to tell you right away that I am coming out of the Council of the Twelve now, and it was decided unanimously that nothing will be done about this matter…”

-- “What do you mean?”

-- “That there is nothing to do, Lazra, I’m sorry”. He makes a gesture of discomfort and resignation. “We don’t have any information nor any necessary references to even start thinking about it…”

Lazra feels more astonished and in disbelief than frustrated, almost as if she can’t quite realize what she is hearing with her ears.

 

It is night, Lazra is sleeping in her bed, and she is dreaming. She sees Dayéd again, not in spirit but in flesh and blood, and he is staring at her and tries to attract her attention, and he makes gestures as if to invite her towards him, to go to him.

 

The prophecy:

At the same time, outdoors, one could catch sight of two councillors walking out of a night-club, the same fellows who accompanied Shalon onto Atlas on his initial visit. There is a certain crowd in front of the entrance of the bar-club, of people who are about to get in or on their way out, or else standing around and chatting while sipping at something. The place is emphasised by a gaudy rig in bad taste of lights, colors, decorations, and ornaments, which is useless and cumbersome, and is nevertheless showed off with pride for wanting to be a luxury and trendy club. The councillors are approached by a colleague of theirs, an assistant-collaborator, who is just now arriving at the bar himself, and walks up to them. He shakes their hand with smiles and over-the-top, theatrical gestures.

-- “Ehi! Have you heard the news? It seems that even that clown Erì-thong wanted to say a word about the issue of the rock from space! It sounds like he’s dreamed up a prophecy, this time. I can’t believe how he still has the courage to speak up, that fellow!” 

-- “Yes, we have heard…”, answers one of the two officials, with scorn and disdain, “…that is all they talk about in here today”, and he makes a gesture with his arm to indicate the club behind his shoulders.

-- “One just doesn’t know what to think up anymore, to work up a gossip and get some attention!”, the other of the two continues, half sneering scornfully.

-- “I am astounded”, resumes the first councillor, “that someone might even consider these things seriously, at the present day!”

-- “The way I look at it,” finally says ironically the assistant who just got there, “only somebody who doesn’t know how else to spend their time will talk about that!”, and saying good-bye to them quickly he heads for the entrance of the club. The other two exchange a glance between them.

 

While the first lights of the day are fading the darkness away, Gahk and Juanio are on board an elevated platform suspended in the open space for the most part, which is a docking harbour, for the landing and take-off of space vessels of small and medium sizes, of a larger and more important space-ship. The place is calm and peaceful, at this time of morning, and surrounded as it is by such infinite spaces. Juanio is loading a few pieces of luggage into the trunk of a means of transport for two passengers, while Gahk is taking a look inside the front engine alongside a mechanic.

Two other governmental officials reach them at this moment, wearing formal suits very similar to those of their colleagues of a short time ago, although maybe, on account of the time, they are not quite in impeccable order in the figure. They turn to Gahk, who signals the mechanic to carry on with his work on the engine.

-- “Good-morning”, begins one of the two officials with an air of commanding haughty. “We wanted to ask you whether you had heard something regarding this prophecy which everybody’s talking about, and what it consists in more exactly. Since several rumors have spread out about it, it’s easy not to understand a thing…”

-- “It’s Erì-thong. You guys remember him, don’t you? He used to be in the Order.”

-- “Yes, he must have gotten in a real nasty mess and they kicked him out, and as a matter of fact he doesn’t enjoy too good a reputation, that old stunned-head…”, comments the official with an ironic tone.

-- “Erì-thong has a value that those like you cannot even imagine. He was not kicked out and he did not commit any faults for not being in the Order anymore.”

-- “I am waiting for you to tell me about the prophecy…”

-- “It is about a dream that Erì-thong has had,” Gahk reports staring him straight in the eye, and then he pulls back and he also goes about loading some littler objects into the cockpit of the vehicle, continuing to talk in a louder voice: “that is that the only living being who can do something in order to bring back the soul of Dayéd, and therefore make contacts possible between Gaia and men from the Earth, is Lazra, the young woman President Shalon’s adoptive daughter”.

-- “The President Shalon has an adoptive daughter?”, exclaims surprised the official. His colleague proceeds:

-- “And what should this…Lazra do, in order to bring back the ghost?”

-- “What Lazra is supposed to do according to the prophecy I do not know, and it doesn’t sound to me as if it has been revealed at all”, Gahk replies, with a conclusive tone, stopping and turning around to look at the two. “But if it is possible to get back in touch with the spirit of Dayéd so as to better decide what to do with the terrestrials, only Lazra is the chosen instrument by whom that can happen.”

 

About Erì-thong:

Lazra is again together with her Guardian friends Gus-par and Yu’ko, who described to her in outline the characteristics of the Order, and once more in that place of vast natural landscape where both she and they love to stay and meditate very much. At this moment the two Guardians are removing bad weeds from a ground with little trees and various vegetation. Some plants they pull out with their bare hands, others they cut off with an appropriate instrument that this time they thought of carrying along with them. As they cut off or tear out, they throw the bad weeds to one side, where they are piling up in a slight heap. Standing at a short distance from them, Lazra is for the most part watching them, hesitantly, at the moment inexpert and unprepared to take part in the same activity, and in fact both Gus-par and Yu’ko every now and then explain and illustrate to her what they are up to.

-- “Me? What do you mean me?”, Lazra is trying to gather her ideas, with a voice of plead and anxiety. “What could I ever do?!”

Gus-par, who is closer to her, turns to look at her and smiles.

-- “And then I’ve heard from several places that this guy, Erì-thong, is a fool, some say that he is no good, that they turned him away from the Order because of some weird things that he messed up with, imagine that. Then he gets me involved, and now a lot of people are talking about it!...”, and she casts a glance of faint despair. “Who knows whatever I had to do in this whole story!...”

-- “Erì-thong is a great man”, Gus-par asserts peacefully. He lowers his eyes for a moment, and then he looks back at her and resumes speaking: “True value, virtue, always meets with a violent reaction from the widespread opinion. This is the reason why sometimes, by the appearances, it can be difficult to discern it from a sham, for instance. It takes a supernatural intuition and lucidity to be able to recognize it and remain faithful to it, without being affected by the rumors or by the shouting of convenience.”

He stops for an instant and he smiles at her warmly. She just stares at him without saying anything.

“He used to be in the Order, once”, he continues, “and he was just as he is now in his private life, very loyal and zealous toward the Statute. He is a man of great integrity. At that time, however, there were some in the Order who favored a more elastic and moderate interpretation of the Statute, and therefore a life that was more relaxed and compromising with certain allures of the senses or the material possessions. The Order then split into two parts: one that was for a coherent and upright righteousness of life and relied upon Erì-thong and two other Guardians now passed away, and the other one according to which certain ideas could accommodate more to the things of the world, and it was supported by a fair amount of adversaries of Erì-thong and his companions. Quite soon the contrast became vicious, and certain leaders of the latter section took on violent and brutal attitudes toward Erì-thong and his people, to the point of unleashing a real persecution. The Order suffered very much from all these tensions, and the Guardians were not carrying out their duty with the necessary serenity, and what is worse, in general the motivation for which to trust them and have confidence in them was darkened. Therefore Erì-thong believed that it wasn’t worth giving battle inside the Order itself, and so he retired to private life. Among the Guardians the major tensions gradually faded away, and now, if nothing else, the Order can carry on its activity. There are sometimes corruptions and downfalls on the part of many, which are balanced by the huge efforts of the worthiest and most valuable representatives, who sublimate what is individual and personal into a consideration of that which is universally true, good and wise. Value, zeal is for the most part up to the individual initiative. Let it be known, though, that if it hadn’t been for Erì-thong and his companions, today there would not even be an Order to speak about.”

Lazra stares at him, meditating and remaining silent. In the meantime Yu’ko hasn’t interrupted his work, and even though he’s been listening and participating he continues picking up bad weeds and plants.

All of a sudden, an assistant of Shalon’s comes rushing along all out of breath, as he evidently has been running around searching for Lazra:

-- “Miss Lazra, at last I am finding you! Your father asked me to tell you to go see him as soon as possible, that he wants to speak to you!” She heads for home, which is not too far.

 

Lazra and Shalon on what to do:

Shalon is in his home office, and at the moment he seems absorbed in re-arranging some sheets of paper, discs and various objects on his desk, with a somewhat thoughtful and absent-minded attitude, or as if he were for the most part waiting for something. Lazra arrives, and she immediately notices a murky look on his father’s face.

-- “Hi, Lazra, we finally see you.”

-- “Hi, Pop.”

-- “Listen, I haven’t seen you for a while, and since it’s a couple of days since there has been so much talk going on about that prophecy of Erì-thong’s…”, and in uttering this name he raises his eyebrows upward and rolls his eyes back.

-- “Oh, yes!”, she exclaims, “I’ve heard he’s a good character!”, she reports with a certain enthusiasm, and smiling. Shalon reproaches her with an annoyed, severe frown:

-- “He is a fool!”, he exclaims in a higher pitch, and with slight scorn. “A crazy-head. Among other things, many claim that he didn’t behave right at all when he was in the Order of the Guardians, and so he got laid off.”

-- “He wasn’t laid off, he quit on purpose”.

-- “I don’t think so, Lazra, you should be better informed. Anyway, I don’t want to talk about him. I wanted to tell you about the prophecy. I am rather resentful as to how your name was brought up to put together an uncalled-for swindle with which to fill the loud mouths of the loafers. Many say that it’s even been done on purpose, in order to get attention and some free advertising. Just think what it comes down to!”, and he accompanies this last expression with a gesture of impatience and contempt. Lazra stares at him for a few instants, undecided, and then replies:

-- “I’m just sorry because I’m convinced that I cannot do anything! What in the world should I ever do?”, and she says this half stretching a hysterical smile. “But if there is a chance, however faint it might be, to bring Dayéd back I would indeed want someone to try it! But certainly not me!!”

-- “Lazra, that thing gets animated every 500 years. I don’t have the power to resuscitate the spirits ahead of time, nor to fast-forward the passing of centuries. For this reason it is best not to think about this whole story anymore. I am sorry to say this, most of all for those who sent off that message, men and women from the Earth, but there is nothing that we can do!”, and he spells out these last words emphasizing them severely, since it is the second time that he has pronounced them. Lazra has a petrified and frustrated expression.

 

A night in public hall:

It is night, in a large public hall at the ground-floor of a building, looking out a full-height glass-window onto the street outside. The room is used for the occasion as a reception hall, as refreshments and little bits of food of various types are placed on the tables, from which the numerous guests pick and choose in the course of the conversations and the mundane entertainment. At the moment there are approximately twenty people present, young ones predominantly and few adults, but the newly-arrived keep flowing in, and everybody knows everybody else, at least by sight or from hearsay. Some of them are comfortably seated, others are leaned against wall- or floor-supports, but the most part of the guests are standing around, gathered together in pairs or groups of light-hearted distraction, chat and gossip. On one side, along one of the glass walls looking onto the street outside, Lazra is keeping company with two of her sisters, the elder ones, her brother Raski and a few friends and acquaintances, among whom one of the two young guys that went to their place for dinner together with Urie. Lazra is feeling a little uneasy, like a fish out of water in an atmosphere that she feels as quite fake and bogus, and she stays aside somewhat to herself. One of their friends is mumbling something into the ear of one of her sisters, and she giggles as she looks in the direction indicated to her by him. On the side of the room where they are standing, a vegetation area is located right in front of the glass wall looking outside, where a few little trees and plants of several different kinds grow in a layer of earth beside the glass. At night, this natural corner is purposely illuminated by means of a few light-points, and it consists in a pleasant presence both for those who are inside the hall, and for the passers-by outside. Lazra is observing, closely and with interest, the constitution of the trunk of one little tree and of the hardened resin on its surface. When one of their acquaintances, who had dinner at their place along with Bool and Urie, steps away momentarily from their group and then comes back carrying a tray of full glasses and some bits of food, she doesn’t even notice, while everybody helps themselves and they rapidly finish up all the provisions. When she turns toward the others, the fellow with the tray, pretentiously showing off fake embarrassment, exclaims with hypocrisy:

-- “Ooops! There’s no more! Sorry, Lazra…!”

-- “Oh, don’t worry about it!”, she answers good-naturedly, as she sincerely doesn’t care much. “I’m just fine like this, thank you! Didn’t want any.”

In the meantime outside they can catch sight through the glass walls of a young gaiasi girl carrying a recently-born son in her arms and wearing worn-out and run-down clothes. She is nearing a few guests of the reception who are standing outside of the public hall, in front of the entrance, and she begs for charity, discreetly and with her eyes downward. Most of the present barely take a look at her, engrossed as they are in the drinks and the gossip, and she just draws back and moves on to someone else. Almost everyone of the Shalons’ company notices her.

-- “Shortly the District Assembly ought to be discussing the security ordinance”, asserts one of the friends, who is also companion to one of Lazra’s sisters. “They will see whether to change it or not, and whether to approve it definitively.” 

-- “Yes, but in my opinion they will pass it as it is by now. And I hope so, at least”, a girlfriend comments.

-- “In my view it is too soft, it really isn’t much good”, another intervenes, who is a friend of the first one. “It implies that those who are caught sleeping or bunking around the urban streets, and most of all begging for charity, will be put on record and under surveillance, in order to discourage these annoying activities that can sometimes be threatening, until they spontaneously fade away altogether. I think they should downright arrest those people, and forget spontaneously! There are times when you can’t be out in the street for 5 minutes that there is some wretch popping by begging for something!”. Lazra is astounded and deeply grieved.

-- “Yes,” her elder sister adds, “but it also provides that private patrols may be set up by the citizens, also in the evening and at night, and if they notice suspicious or insecure situations, or makeshift shelters that are improvised and chancy, they can report them to the repression units.” 

Outside the young beggar keeps on approaching a few.

-- “How can you agree with a similar dirty sham?”, Lazra then exclaims profoundly upset. “This is called the security ordinance? It hits the weakest ones of all, who almost always are the victims of insecurity and evil, or at least they’ve suffered from that. Instead of having compassion for them, and providing for help and assistance, it aims to wipe them away altogether? For whom would they be a threat? And they’re even a bother if they go begging for something? At times it just gets hard to know who to harass with impunity! That is so despicable!”

The others of the group, her sisters, her brother, their friends and acquaintances, look at her askance, with an aloof and suspicious air.

-- “You certainly are quite conceited!”, observes Raski. “There is nobody here that looks at it that way”, and he pronounces the word ‘nobody’ with emphasis, indicating with his hand the present company, “and still you expect to be right, what arrogance!”. After which he turns toward the others abruptly, giving her partially the back.

-- “Lazra, I think you should go out for a walk at night, sometime, to really check out for yourself if it’s not worth being scared of!”, her other sister goes on.

-- “So, what does that mean?”, replies Lazra. She is very emotionally distressed, on one side she is angry, on the other her eyes are getting wet .

-- “What you are saying is quite ingenious”, another one of the friends interjects, with a half a smile on his lips, “and also sounds from an ideal, utopian  world. The reality is that someone who continuously goes asking others in the street for something is bothering and annoying. I appreciate more those who can take care of themselves, the others are dragging!...”

-- “Oh, come on!”, exclaims one of the girlfriends with a harsher tone of voice, as if from someone who is losing her patience, indicating with a swing of her arm the members of the group present there. “There must be some reason why we are all saying the same thing, won’t there? I don’t understand this…”, and she shakes her head annoyed, and rolls her eyeballs upward.

Outdoors, in the meantime, a fellow among the guests loses his patience, and decides to take the initiative toward the young beggar, who is drawing near some whom she hasn’t passed by yet timidly holding out her open hand. He walks up to her, he puts a hand on her shoulder and gives her a push backward, shaking his head with his eyes turned downward.

-- “Get out of here!...”, he enjoins her in a low voice. “Get away!”, and he pushes her back, at the same time pressing her with growing urgency. The young gaiasi woman backs away from the pushes, but she stops. He keeps on moving forward, “Go!”, he is yelling now, while among the others present somebody watches and approves, someone else also adds:

-- “Yes! We’ve had enough of this!”, and others are shouting:

-- “Go get a life and a job!!”. Someone giggles, commenting with the neighbor. The young gaiasi girl, with her baby in her arms, now backs off by herself, and finally she turns around and runs away.

Lazra, after watching the scene, breaks out of the place quickly, through another doorway closer to her. 

 

An unexpected encounter:

It is night, Lazra leaves the public hall with the desperation of someone who would like to go away and never come back. After all the sensations accumulated, she has become quite upset, and having walked a certain distance by herself, she is overwhelmed by an emotional surge that brings her to sigh and let out tears. The evening goes on, while she is walking, covering distances and getting out of the actual inhabited area, and she moves into the surrounding natural landscapes. She hardly encounters anybody, and she finds comfort in the open and infinite spaces.

All of a sudden it starts raining, with thick precipitation and wind, and as thunder and lightening strike hard, in an unexpected and abrupt twist of the atmospheric conditions, a storm breaks out. Finding herself outdoors and at a certain distance by now  from the town settlement, Lazra is fully exposed to the weather, and has to take cover however and wherever she can. First of all she tries to shield herself under a tree, although that is good only for the first instants, and after those the rain tumbles down on her unstopped. Then, even though she has lost her sense of orientation, she starts running in search of any shelter, be it a roof or a recess. She doesn’t know where she is headed, not even whether she is going back towards the town or moving further away, but she keeps on running in the relentless rain, which has turned into hail, and in the cold wind. At a certain point she catches sight of a building with openings lit up from the inside, and she sets out in that direction with no hesitation. It looks like a home, even though peculiar and all by itself. Lazra reaches what appears to her as the entrance doorway and knocks upon it with despair. An old man opens up to her, with a very natural and uncared-for aspect, wearing a suit that vaguely resembles the habit of the Guardians’ Order, although without a cowl, and of a different color. He seems to recognize her, as if he is aware who she is, although he’s never met her before. He lets her in. 

The house is very simple, equipped in a sober and austere fashion, as is in general the life led by the person who lives in it. The devices it is provided with are simple and essential, measured according to the convenient use that is made of them. The gaiasi-man hands Lazra something to dry herself with, while she takes a look at herself and she realizes that she is soaking wet and dripping water.

-- “I’m sorry…I’m flooding your house!”

-- “Oh, it doesn’t matter, don’t worry about it”

-- “Thank you for letting me in, really. I don’t know what kind of storm this is, I’ve never seen anything like it! If you happen to be in it, after a while it almost takes your breath away!”

-- “Yes, I imagine. It is a rather exceptional precipitation, and it must be flooding several places. If you wish to change your clothes, until it stops or at least lets up, I can give you something dry, although it’s gaiasi-man’s clothes.”

-- “Listen, maybe it would be nice to say no, but if you don’t mind I’ll accept the kind proposal, because I am really soaking wet!”

-- “Of course! You are right!”, and he promptly walks off getting a hold of some garments, and shortly Lazra is sitting with blankets wrapped all around her.

-- “My name is Lazra.”

-- “Yes, I know. I have heard of you”, he replies, as he goes about preparing something to eat on a plate.

-- “Is that a habit of the Order that you are wearing?”, she inquires while she’s watching him.

-- “No, it is just a habit.”

-- “But you are not a Guardian?”

-- “No, I was when I was young, a long time ago.”

-- “I have some friends who are Guardians. I admire them very much. Today, they were telling me about the prophecy by someone called Erì-thong. A lot of people have talked about it in the past few days, for that matter, I don’t know if you’ve heard of that.”

-- “Well, not really. But I do know about the prophecy.” He stops and looks at her for a moment. “My name is Erì-thong.”  

 

About the prophecy:

Lazra stares at him with amazement and deferent enchantment.

-- “What was defined as a ‘prophecy’”, he continues, “is a dream that I had a few nights ago, to which I gave an interpretation. I told some Guardians friends about it once, and the word spread out in a flash, in a way that nobody expected, nor did I wish for. Within a short time, so many people had heard about it as the ‘prophecy’”

He steps closer to her and hands her over a plate containing some dry fruit, a sort of honey and a piece of bread. She accepts it, without saying a word, as if she were conforming to the circumstances. She picks at something, looking at it with a questioning air.

-- “I dreamed that you, as a little girl, were playing with a ball on a pier. The ball fell into the sea, and Dayéd came up to you from the shore, a live man in flesh and blood. He dove in, and got back up with the ball and a whole city in miniature in his hands. He gave you both things and then he left. The morning after I had no doubts that you were the one who could have the spirit of Dayéd appear again.”

-- “How should it happen that I…I…can have the spirit of Dayéd appear again ?”, she asks, putting her hands to her chest and accentuating with bewilderment the word ‘I’.

-- “By making a trip to the afterlife world, to the realm of the hereafter, to the world of the spirits that were, that are and that will be. The spirit of Dayéd is there, and in order to bring him back temporarily to this world of the becoming in time, one will have to go to the eternal realm of the souls and address a supplication for grace to the Virgin Mother, Lady of the Skys, so that this may be granted from above. Dayéd will come back into a body of flesh and blood, to live the life of an adult.”

Lazra stares at him uninterruptedly, with her eyes wide open and her mouth hanging downward. In pronouncing these things, he is in a motionless composure which is serene, serious, and appeasing. He observes her deeply, and expresses the words with every faculty of his spirit, and after finishing he gives a faint smile. Then he purposely waits a few moments, so as to give Lazra the opportunity to react.

-- “…to the eternal world of the souls?...”, she repeats bewildered and enchanted, “…and where is that?...how does one get there?...”

-- “It is the realm of the spirit, of what ordinarily, in the world of material things, one does not see with the eyes of the body. One may perceive it with the interior sight, of the soul.”

-- “Oh…listen…”, and in the meantime she tries to get a hold of herself, running her glance distractedly over the surrounding environment, “…I may be a terrestrial in this place, and I don’t belong to the species of the gaiasis, you just have to take a look at me to see that, but for everything else I really am not a particular being, believe me…”. Lazra is almost groping for excuses, as she stands up, slowly and hesitantly, holding up the blankets, and she gets ready to say good-bye, out of fearful discretion and a sense of inadequacy, rather than scepticism or a lack of confidence in Erì-thong. “What could I ever do, sir? I can’t even get along too well in the everyday world, that we can see…I’m sorry.”

Erì-thong lowers his eyes, out of tactful respect for a confession which is, if nothing else, sincere and intimate. Then he resumes:

--“The spirit is materially invisible, or imperceptible through the senses, but it’s not outside, or in another place with reference to the everyday world. Truthfully, I don’t mean to suggest anything particular about yourself. I was only giving an interpretation of what the dream meant to me, and I believe that is the truth. The facts, destiny, will then go along their course, and if they don’t call on me personally, I will not try to interfere with them.”

 

At the bar-club:

Inside the fashionable bar night-club, which was seen once already with the crowd of an evening in full swing, at this moment, in the afternoon, the same three councillor officials, who met each other and were hanging around that night, are in the middle of a refreshing break, in their formal suits as usual. Two of them are sitting at a little tall table, on tall stools, whereas the third one is standing close by, and one of the two seated and the one standing are having a drink, resting on the table, while the other colleague is just keeping company. A waitress approaches them and hands over to them a little plate of something to eat.

-- “Ehi, Martha!”, cries out the one who, on the initial trip to Atlas, was talking to Shalon, putting an arm around her hips from the stool where he is sitting, while she is partially going along with the game. “What an extraordinary woman! That’s just what was missing right at this time, and we didn’t even have to ask for it!”. His manners are quite loud, and, while the others sneer and nod, he continues:

-- “I wonder what we would ever do in this place without you!”

-- “You would probably put down roots!...”, she comments, with irony and impatience.

He bursts into laughter:

-- “Ah! Ah! Maybe you’re right!”, and he pulls her tighter to him, to the point that she jerks away and walks off.

The three of them grow serious again, and the other colleague sitting at the table interjects:

-- “At any rate, prophecy or not, this afternoon the question of the rock from space ought to be officially over with. It was about time! With all the stories and the rumors that have been made up on purpose, it was getting to be a ridiculous affair…”

-- “It’s not like I really believed much in the story of the gifts, the inscriptions, the contacts…”, the one standing comments, giggling.

-- “Well, anyway, from tomorrow on there shouldn’t be much talk about it anymore…”, finishes the one who was entertaining himself with the waitress, and he pours in one shot the rest of his glass down his throat.

 

Shalon and Lazra are back home:

It is night, in the living-room of the Shalons’ are the President’s daughters and son, except for Lazra, and the same two gaiasi guys who came here once as guests for dinner together with Urie, one of whom was present on the night at the public hall from which Lazra suddenly rushed away. Raski, the two elder sisters and one of the two guests are sitting around the table and are entertaining themselves with a company-game, whereas the other two are standing around somewhat by themselves. and yet attending and participating in the conversation, often picking at the little plates and the bowls of bits of food, and at the glasses of wine lying on the table. Between the two on their feet, that is Lyha the youngest and Bool, there seems to be a particular feeling, and in fact at this moment they are exchanging confidential looks and they are talking about something concerning them only.

-- “The next time I’ll buy, though, ok?”, he whispers close to her face, while he puts a piece of food into her mouth, and she bites into it smiling.

-- “Don’t think about it…”, she replies, drawing back to make for the table.

-- “Ehi!”, Raski reproaches her jokingly, while Lyha grabs two full glasses. “You guys are wiping out all the food!”. She smiles and she gets back to Bool.

-- “What happened to your sister?”, the young guest sitting at the table inquires. “I haven’t seen her for a while. Does she still go around confessing herself with those guru friends of hers?”

-- “Ahah!”, replies one of the two sisters seated.

-- “Don’t talk like that in front of her or else she’ll burst into tears!”, observes the other sister.

-- “Ehm, yes!...It’s not fair!...” their brother comments ironically, assuming a mocking expression and drying away fake tears. Then he starts talking seriously again:

-- “Let’s hope that now that the story of the statue is over with she won’t be a pain in the neck anymore, because she was starting to be a little big-headed about it…”

Oma’b Shalon then enters the room, and with an indifferent and distracted attitude he says hi to everyone. He thoughtfully walks up to a shelf on the wall, and rummages for something among paper files and discs. Bool asks him:

-- “So, Mr. President, how was the council this afternoon?”

-- “Fine, it was fine, Bool, thank you. Nothing new or unexpected, on the whole.”

-- “And once the event is through and filed, what’s going to happen to the rock from space?”

-- “Eh!”, exclaims Shalon smiling at the ironic definition new to him. “It will be cleaned up and polished accurately, and then we’ll see whether to leave it where it is or to transfer it to the waiting room of the space station for Atlas and the other satellites.”

-- “Uh, good!”, replies the other guest. “At least it’ll turn out to be useful for something!”

Shalon gets close to the table, picks something from the pieces of food and takes a quick look, while chewing on a bite, at the company-game. Lazra walks in, saying hi timidly, and she barely steps in the doorway. As soon as the present company notice her, the conversation drops immediately, reducing itself to Raski’s low voice, who giggles although trying to hold himself.

-- “Hi, Lazra,” Shalon addresses her, “by the way, I just met out here two Guardians, that I had never seen before, and they said they were supposed to meet with you. I explained to them that their service is welcome and appreciated as long as it regards administrative matters. I told them to go and never confuse the public with the private again!”. He finishes with determination and a certain anger, while Lazra doesn’t answer anything, she just stares at him petrified and speechless.

-- “Say, guys!”, Shalon continues raising his voice and turning toward all of his kids. “Someone should drop by the market place to get some fermented dough because Mom needs it for dinner”, he lays some money down on the same shelf on the wall, in proximity of the door. After that, he says good-bye hurriedly and exits.

-- “I did it! I won!”, the son cries out, cheerful about the cards that are lying in front of him on the table.

-- “Now you did it, huh? Where were you before?”, his elder sister rebukes him sceptically.

-- “Look, don’t go cheating on us buddy, please, it must be a quarter of an hour that the game has been on pause!...”, comments again the other sister sitting at the table. Lyha and Bool step up nearer smiling. Lazra grabs the money, distressed both for herself and for Mom and Pop, and she heads out the door.

 

Meditations and decisions:

Erì-thong is in his home, which is sober, humble, and at the same time practical, and at this moment it is warmly lit by the flames glowing in a fire of wood burning in a sort of fireplace, which for the most part he rather uses to cook  food or else than for the actual heating, which is usually provided by an exterior boiler. Erì-thong is sitting on a low seat, with no back piece, and with his forearms resting on his knees he is meditatively watching the flames, although by now they’re low and scant. He stands up, thoughtfully, he slightly moves over, he kneels down, leaning backwards on his heels, with his back straight up, his head hung downward, his hands on his legs, and he prays closing his eyes.

 

Lazra is instead in her favourite natural environment, pacing alone slowly and in a pensive and absent frame of mind. There’s still a dim light, but it’s getting dark, and she is walking along the same lane where Gus-par and Yu’ko told her about the Order of the Interplanetary Guardians, and about the Statute. At a certain point, to her right-hand side, beyond a vast open space, where a peaceful grassy terrain lies, and of some thick vegetation, she particularly notices a few mountains over the horizon, of medium height and grouped together in a curved and continuous line. They evidently were in that place every time that she came by before, but in this pass they attract her attention more than usual. She stops and she observes them, still engrossed in her meditations.

 

Again on board the docking platform on which two government officials questioned them in regard to the prophecy, the Interplanetary Guardians Gahk and Juanio finally approach the space vessel that they were loading and preparing for the departure. Without saying a word, they take their seats inside the cockpit, with a slightly discomforted air, and Juanio, in the pilot’s seat, turns on the engine connections, and points out into the open space, which in the late dusk appears almost completely dark.

 

Return to Erì-thong:

The night has fallen, Erì-thong is now standing next to a plastic container, in a recess of a wall of his house, and he slowly pulls out of it a seashell first, and then another one, of the spiral type, the size of the palm of a hand, and he examines them, still absorbed in his reflections. After a few instants, he puts them back in place, he turns around and he heads back for the fireplace, stopping in proximity of it, with his arms loosely hanging down along his sides, his head relaxed and his eyes closed. He hears knocking at the door.

Erì-thong steps over and opens up, and he finds Lazra standing right in front of him:

-- “Good evening!...”, she utters.

-- “Hi, Lazra. Please, come on in.” , She walks in, hesitantly and by little steps.

-- “I…just wanted to ask you something more,…out of curiosity, about that ‘trip’ you were talking about the last time…”

-- “Alright”, he answers with a peaceful and mild tone.

-- “So, just to know, how…from where would one leave to go to the afterlife world of the souls, as you were saying…?”

-- “Well, there isn’t properly a definite way in, because it is the immaterial world. One would get to it through a spiritual condition, an interior state of grace. In order to acquire that, for instance, you could walk along the valley of the Soles, a plain that lies behind the chain of the Pathos mountains. Between the valley and the mountains there is a wood, that after a certain extension slightly rises up along the slope of the reliefs. From the clearing of the valley, you could walk into the wood, which gets gradually thicker, and proceed straight ahead in the direction of the mountains, without ever turning around nor bending off. After a period of time your perception of time and space will become hazy, you will not know anymore how deep inside you have gone, nor if the mountains are close or far off. Somehow as if in a dream. You just keep going, however, right on ahead, without looking away, and then…you will see for yourself.”

-- “I will see what? How could I know what to do and how, if I know nothing?”

-- “You don’t need to know anything more than you do now. When you find yourself over there, you will see. If and when it should happen that you can’t discern and decide for yourself, and you need assistance and guidance, you will find it along the way, to do what you have to.”

-- “And how should someone go? What would she carry with her? What clothes would they be wearing…?...”, she asks, trying to find her way through her ideas.

-- “It’s not necessary to take anything along.  One doesn’t need to be dressed any differently from tonight... However, there are certain conditions that require to be observed on a trip to the spirit world. First of all, it’s necessary to fast, to stay off any food for the whole time, or else bodily ties would come from it with the places that you will go. Second of all, only a maximum period of three days will be available for being there. Otherwise, in both cases, there won’t be any way back.” 

Lazra has become frightened and speechless, staring the old hermit in the eye. Then, she lightly shakes her head, as if to turn away certain thoughts, and looking elsewhere, with hesitation, she speaks again:

-- “…I was only asking from curiosity, as information. I wanted to know some more…” She gets herself together and she stands up, ready to say good-bye.

-- “Yes, I understand. I hope I answered you.” She is still staring at him, with fear and incertitude, and somewhat thoughtfully.

 

It is the following day, at a moment when the light is dimming down again, as the shade of the evening takes over, and Lazra is walking along the same path of the natural landscape that she knows and cherishes, in the opposite direction in regard to the day before. Again, she lays the stare on the chain of reliefs that she can spot at a certain distance to her left-hand side, and she stops a few moments to look at them.

 

Lazra sets out…:

A short while later, in the darkness of the late evening, Lazra is hiking along at a resolute and staunch pace, although not fast. There is determination in her look fixed ahead of her, and in her attitude. She is setting out, and she reaches the valley of the Soles. She stops on its edge, where a plain of grassy terrain opens up ahead, wide and airy, beyond which the wood is visible through the dark, thick with various vegetation, that the wise former-Guardian described to her. Slowly, and with caution, she walks on ahead.

She approaches the first trees, which appear spaced-out in the plain at first, and she slows down momentarily. They become thicker and thicker as she carefully proceeds further in, moving straight on ahead of her. She also tries with remarkable effort not to look away from right in front of her, so as not to get distracted by anything, plant, shadow, or appearance that it might be, since, among other things, it is very hard to recognize certain shapes in the darkness among the trees, where not even a faint light from the stars can pass through. Every now and then, her eyeballs slip to the sides of her eyes, and she gets nervous when she lets that happen.

 

Now I would like to call upon the Lord so that He may assist and inspire me as I go on, because I am uncertain and hesitant, not being used to narration, nor experienced with the writing. Every time that I have had doubts or uncertainties regarding the exposition, I have always attempted to prefer a form of communication which was the most efficient and the most visual that I could. I have tried, that is, for what I could, to let the facts and the situations illustrate themselves, without getting into elegant and exhaustive descriptions. May God want to inspire me at least a little, however, for what really counts, and that is the subject of the story, or my attempts to think of something will be useless and in vain.

 

As she proceeds further into the wood, Lazra gets somewhat used to the darkness, but basically because it becomes less extraneous to her and less unusual as she spends more time in it, and not because she can make out anything more than she could when she first set out. And little by little, at the same time, she feels that her sense of orientation and her perception of time are growing weaker. She doesn’t fully realize anymore how much distance she has covered, maybe, she thinks, also because she doesn’t look away from right in front of her, so she is not well aware of what lies to her sides. At certain moments she is tempted to turn around, to see whether the clearing is still in sight among the vegetation she’s just gone past, but she reminds herself not  to even think about it. She couldn’t tell whether she is closer to the valley behind or rather to the mountains ahead, and for what she feels in herself, she might even have gone past those. The only thing that she makes sure of is that she keeps moving forward ahead of her, as she was told. The farther she goes on, the more disoriented she becomes, but she doesn’t get particular anguish or desperation from that, as if she felt that it’s something else she needs to worry about, and of which she has to take care.

 

Meeting with Erì-thong:

At a certain point, up ahead of her she catches a glimpse of a gleam, among the trees and the vegetation. It is a discreet and comfortable light, although with an intense presence, of the shape and the size of a gaiasi man, or of a terrestrial, standing upright and Lazra approaches it while proceeding on her path. She gradually recognizes Erì-thong’s figure at the core of the gleam, though he looks younger: it is now a middle-aged gaiasi man, in the form of a spirit, instead of an old man as the last time that she saw him. He is on his feet, still and motionless, with his hands joined together in front of him, and sweetly smiling at her:

-- “Hi, Lazra.”

-- “Good evening! I didn’t expect to see you here…”, confesses the girl, “if nothing else, I did not even tell you that I was coming…Anyway, it is a relief!”

-- “Don’t say that yet. When we saw each other, I didn’t have any idea either that I would meet you on your way, in spirit, as you see me.” 

-- “What do I have to do? I am feeling so confused that I was thinking, maybe, I should go back…”, she admits with a beseeching and discomforted tone. “I have no idea where I am, except that the valley is behind, and I can see nothing!...” She stifles a sigh, barely perceptible, while taking a look into the surrounding darkness, “..I wonder whatever I was thinking when I made up my mind…”

-- “If you like, I am here to escort you for a while…” Lazra stares at him, thoughtfully, with a deep anguish and indecision, while she is mainly pondering the situation, for what she feels she can do. “Let’s go…” he encourages her, turning around beside her in order to walk on along next to her, and giving a slight comforting smile. She hesitates for a moment, and then she complies with his suggestion, and slowly at first she resumes her journey alongside him. 

-- “The world of the spirit is immaterial, ordinarily it is not perceived through the senses, that is the sight, the hearing, the tact…In manifesting itself, it will assume the exterior features of the one who visits it, because it is one’s own image that reveals itself to him or her. In your case, for instance, you will see souls in the aspect of men and women, and you will hear and understand about the human nature, native of the planet Earth, with its characteristics and its culture, of what it has been, it is and it will be. If it were an inhabitant from Gaia, for instance, to make a trip to the afterlife realm, the spirits would appear to him or her with his or her own features, in the form of that particular nature, according to that world.”

In the meantime, they both proceed at a pace which doesn’t require efforts, but that is not relaxed either. A moment of silence follows between the two of them in which Lazra hears something that in the first place she can’t recognize well. It sounds confused, and as if it came from across vast depths of spaces, but, at the same time, not from far away. Then once more, a little more distinctly.

-- “The world of the souls is sensed, is perceived, through an interior, spiritual sight, and it’s because of a state of grace that the spirit can become aware of it.” While Erì-thong is uttering these words, Lazra hears again what sounds to her as laments from sufferance, furious and beastly cries, which barely surface to her hearing for a moment, and then they vanish again into the silence of the night.

-- “Since it is a world beyond the bodily senses, if a particular state of grace is not granted, which however is but temporary for a living being, it is something in which one believes, and that one feels.” In the meantime Lazra hears some more cries, inhuman yelps, and takes looks around her with apprehension and dismay.

They get to a river, of dark, dense waters in continuous and muffled movement, from which a thick vapour rises, that together with the darkness won’t let the other shore be seen. Lazra is disoriented and uncertain, because she sees clearly that they cannot go on straight, if not across the water. Other moments of silence follow…Erì-thong seems to be waiting.

-- “Now something should happen…”, he whispers almost to himself.

 

Charon:

At that moment, from the fog over the waters Lazra sees that something is materializing and taking shape, little by little, as if out of nothing, into the figure of a boat, and on board of that a boatman, appearing experienced in the activity of steering with one oar.  

Charon continuously emits noises and grunts, as if they were nervous contractions that sometimes also impel him to make brisk movements of his neck and shoulders. Noticing them on the shore, as he is approaching to draw the vessel to land, he addresses them with beastly sounds, which are horrible and incomprehensible, and gradually modulate in some phrases that Lazra gets to understand:

-- “argnweghh…rstkgghees…stay back, you scumbags, you’ll all get a ride anyway…”, he exclaims, running his glance over Erì-thong and Lazra, who are standing right where he is pulling over, and also beyond, off to their sides, as if toward other subjects who are not present, or better, that Lazra cannot make out.  

-- “You can change your tone for this stretch, that you’re going to have on board a particular visit, still alive and only passing through. So you just try to be as a gondolier in Venice, accompanying Proserpina…”. While the boatman steps off the vessel, and pulls it up ashore, Lazra takes curious glances beside her to see who the fellow was looking at, a part from them.

Erì-thong then turns to her, getting closer:

-- “The whole shore of the river is crowded with damned spirits who are waiting to get on board with the boatman, in order to get across the river and therefore reach their destinations. You can’t distinguish them yet, because it’s as if your eyes were getting used a little at a time to discerning the afterlife world, like the sight needs to get accustomed in passing from an environment filled with light to darkness.”

Lazra becomes remarkably upset at the thought that there is a multitude of beings that she can’t see, but who evidently do see and hear her, just as anyone alive in a mortal body.

-- “Take this”, Erì-thong continues toward Charon, handing him over a coin. “This time across, it’ll be the two of us”, and he indicates himself and Lazra close by, “and that’s it.”

The boatman goes on grunting and giving off muffled cries and low noises, and replies nothing. However Lazra is not paying much attention to them for the time being, because she has begun to recognize a few spirits on the shore, although vaguely at first, and like shadows. As they emerge to her perception, she notices that some of them are annoyed, and they complain with painful sounds. While the former Guardian and the terrestrial girl climb on board the craft, they hassle around with anger, maybe in protest for the anomalous situation. Some of them get near the vessel, while the boatman is thrusting the oar into the shore so as to push the boat onto the water, and they stretch out their arms to grab the edge. Charon then uses the oar as a big stick, and while he swears and mumbles curses he hits the upset damned spirits, swinging hard from up downward. In a short time the skiff is free, it detaches from the shore, and it moves forward across the river.

 

The soul of the works of men:

As they progress further, Lazra now starts to hear also other sounds, noises, that were indistinct to her before. From the quiet of nature, she perceives the increasing wails of the restless souls, and other noises of acts or situations that take place somewhere in their surroundings.

-- “This is the city of pain, of desperation and grievance without hope, and this river is the Acheron, that is situated on its edge”, the wise hermit then relates to her. “You must get across this dark realm, but it is somewhere else that you are bound to arrive so as to do what you have to, the superior kingdom of heaven, the city of God.” Lazra stares at him astonished, enchanted, with the simplicity of a child. She looks all around her again, but on account of the vapors and the darkness she can only see to a limited extent, and what she gets to make out at the moment is a natural landscape of the water of the river, the shore from which they just took off, the vegetation of the place that they left. The damned spirits of a short while ago are not recognizable to her anymore, even though, at intervals, she clearly hears cries, wails and yelps of pain and sufferance, and she discerns nothing on the shore that she might associate with them. Erì-thong keeps on talking to her:

-- “The soul of the statue of Dayéd is not the soul of David the king of Israel, but one of its many reflections, as numerous as the works of art that represent it or portray it. The spirit of the divine king, Singer of the Holy Spirit, is in Paradise, in the heavens. The soul of this sculpture instead is situated in the limbo of this hell, where also the soul of the king himself was once located before the Savior, Jesus Christ, after His earthly death, gathered it along with Adam’s, Abel’s, Noah’s, Moses’, and those of many others, in order to lift them up to the skies, to the location predestined for them since always. The souls of the truthful, beautiful and good works of art are intimately tied to those of the characters represented, and together with them they stay, in the world the afterlife, so that they share and participate in their fate, also after the occurrence of the Last Judgement, in which the bodies of the departed will resurrect and reunite for ever with their respective souls. It is as if they were their shadows, except that they are not dark nor ‘shadows’ in the full significance of the term. In Paradise, for instance, which is the place of light, they are luminous reflections, and in this obscure world, instead, they are appearances, visual manifestations. A well-executed work of art is always an act of love and virtue on the part of its author, at times of compassion or emotion, therefore in the skies it is always, to a greater or lesser extent, a reason for joy and delight to the subject of it, whereas in hell, despite the intentions, it may be cause of nuisance, or yet annoyance and vexation.”

The vessel is now approaching the opposite side of the river, where Lazra is beginning to distinguish some shadows and semblances which are appearing as incorporeal reflexes, sometimes transparent, that are however acquiring consistency and truth as they get nearer and she puts her stare into them. Erì-thong continues:

-- “The fictitious works of art, which are secondary reproductions of other true and good works, and that try to imitate their sublimeness without even getting close to it, or try to capture and gain their spirit and their grace, by representing though only a remote and vague pretense, they don’t have a soul of their own. Indeed, that is what makes the difference between a real work and an imitation, a copy being a gesture which is not animated by the spirit, it is only materiality and corporeality. However, in the case of that particular sculpture, which is a reproduction of the David by Michelangelo, as of all those that were produced to be sent off into space with the purpose of forwarding a message of brotherhood, a soul was in fact infused into the body of all those works, which animates them every 500 years at the same time and for the period of a few hours. It is a soul that does not come from the creative act of the statue in itself, which is evidently missing, as much as it does from the important purpose for which it was produced. A vital and universal intent for all the men and women of the Earth, whose very destiny is tied to the effects of that exploratory act. The spirit of the sculpture, therefore, was associated with its inspiring subject, the soul of king David, as long as he remained in the Limbo of the infernal world, before he was recovered and raised up on high. When this happened the soul of the work found itself orphan of its source, because being a reproduction it couldn’t follow it along, and this is its divine decree, written since always for always. Such an art spirit animates not only that particular piece, which reached the planet Gaia, but all those that were part of the expedition. As soon as the soul of the statue should be taken out of its eternal location, those works would come to vanish and disappear, like several mirror reflexes from which the reflecting subject is withdrawn, until the soul returns to the hereafter. Then, they would resume existing, to come to life every 500 years as established previously, with the exception of the one on Gaia, which, having assumed by destiny the mortal life of an actual man, gets buried definitively after his death.”

Lazra stays engrossed in listening, while the boat is now almost over to the other side of the river, and Charon grunts a few unintelligible noises, as a sign of conclusion of the ride. He jumps off the means of transport, and pulls it ashore for a moment. The two step off, and the boatman prepares to take off again right away, without any delays to his task.            

 

In the Limbo, with Ovid, Homer and other writers and poets:

Erì-thong and Lazra discreetly set out along a natural, darkened stretch of land, in which the view is at the moment very much limited and hampered by vapors, fumes and thick air, as if the landscape dissolved soon into nothing in all directions. Nevertheless, Lazra keeps on hearing sinister, dismal noises, mourning and shouting from torments and pain, with an intensity that is not at the moment set and steady, but it comes and goes, as if with wind breaths blowing in different directions. As they are moving forward, Erì-thong continues speaking to her:

-- “The afterlife world is not visited often by beings still in their bodily life, like yourself now. One time that this occurred, which left universal and undying fame in the planet of men and women from which you come, was when a poet of divine spirit was granted by Heaven the chance to visit and know it in such extension and detail, and with such a grace of insight and celestial awareness, that many among his fellowmen still find it hard to believe that his trip actually took place.”

-- “Do you know these places?...”, the girl asks very timidly and hesitantly.

-- “Not since long ago, but a spirit gets to be aware of the realm of the souls by itself, with no need to visit or traverse it. It is a sort of knowledge that arises by itself, a remembrance that comes back.”

In the time that they are talking, the environment has become more diversified, with vegetation of different kinds, and nevertheless lacking any colors, Lazra notices, partly maybe because of the darkness, she thinks, partly due to the particular density of the air. They can make out rocky clefts, although the views are still short and gloomy.

At a certain point they discern some ethereal presences heading towards them, at first barely visible in transparency, that somewhat remind Lazra of those incorporeal figures, which she occasionally saw on Gaia, projected by beams of rays that relay a transparent, three-dimensional aspect. They are elderly and wise semblances, which denote worth and distinction in the bearing and in the gestures. 

-- “It is the souls of a few great poets of the terrestrial antiquity”, Erì-thong informs her as they are getting nearer.

Some of them nod their heads in a greeting, as they pass close by them, without giving a sign of slowing down, and intending to go further, when one of them particularly not only realizes but also takes curiosity from the fact that the girl is alive in flesh and blood. In walking past her he continues to observe her.

-- “Excuse me, please”, he starts out then. “Where do you come from, and how is it that you are here?”

-- “This is the spirit of Publius Virgil Maro, Lazra, you’ve probably heard of him”, her companion suggests to her. She stares at the incorporeal soul, enchanted, speechless, and also very fearsome. Other souls among those stop and hold on.

-- “I noticed that you are still alive, and I was wondering what the reason was for your presence here, which is certainly exceptional”, the outstanding poet directly explains to her. Lazra then stirs herself to recover some presence of spirit.

-- “My name is Lazra…I am terrestrial, but ever since I was 7-years-old I have lived on planet Gaia, where I come from. I have come here searching for a soul in particular, and to see whether it is possible to have it come back into the mortal world for yet a while longer.” Virgil observes her, while others of his companions now get closer, coming back a few steps, and they take interest in the meeting.

-- “Hello”, interjects one next to Virgil, stepping forward. “My name is Publius Ovid Naso, I am a poet of the ancient times of the Earth. You’ve heard who this one speaking to you is, this instead is Homer, this is Plutarch, that is Hesiod”. Then he turns toward her, he begins to stare at her deeply, as if meditating, and continues: “There was once a singer of great value and vast fame, by the name of Orpheus, who came to this eternal realm in search of his beloved spouse. Now they both are not far from here.”

The one who was introduced as Homer now intervenes:

-- “A token of immense love was given by Alcestis, faithful wife of Admetus, king of Phere in Thessaly. Due to Apollo’s intercession, Pluto had granted Admetus not to die, if at the moment of his departure from the bodily life he found somebody willing to pass away in his place. His father and mother did not accept the exchange, for which, instead, his spouse Alcestis offered herself. Her spirit of sacrifice, however, was welcomed and appreciated very much by the sky, as any offering of renunciation which comes from true love. Subsequently, someone says that Hercules stepped in, arriving in the world of the souls, fighting Death and jerking Alcestis out of her power, but others recount that Pluto and Proserpina, the ancient rulers of Hades, were already moved and well-disposed toward her, and that they themselves allowed her to get back to the world of earthly life, to her loved Admetus and their children.”

-- “It is a beautiful story, sir…”, Lazra comments, “and how long did Alcestis live after that?...”

-- “If you like, you may get to know that elsewhere as well, and in other ways, don’t worry”, the poet answers her, and then he carries on: “There was also Laodamia, wife of Protesilaus, the first greek soldier to fall in the war against Troy. At his husband’s death, she entreated the gods to let her see him again one last time, and they granted that, for the time of three hours. Protesilaus met with Laodamia in front of the threshold of Hades, which is the ancient name of this place, and when he returned to the world of the shadows, at the expiration of the period, Laodamia was torn by the pain to the point that she could not tolerate living without him, and she stabbed herself to death.”

-- “I’m very sorry…”, the girl replies after a moment of enchantment. Then she also takes a look at the others present among them, and she adds: “I have actually never met personally this spirit that we’re looking for. I heard him talking for a few hours, together with others, and he doesn’t even know about me. Indeed, I’m going to have to explain to him who I am and what I am seeing him for…His name is Dayéd, and it is the soul of a statue, that comes to life every 500 years.”

-- “I know who you are talking about”, Plutarch interjects, slightly off to one side from her. “It is right in this place, in the Limbo, not far from where we stand. Over here are the souls of those who in their life did not adore the Lord God as is proper, because they didn’t know the incarnation of the Word, of Jesus Christ, who brought the truth of the Gospel to the world, either because they lived previously and elsewhere, or because this was not contemplated anyway by the divine schemes. The soul that you are searching for is alongside other spirits of works of art, around those parts”, and he indicates the direction, spreading out his left arm, which is to the left-hand side of Lazra and Erì-thong.    

 

In the Castle, with Orpheus, Aeneas,…:

The two visitors say good-bye and they set off again, in the direction just indicated to them, and they walk up to a castle surrounded all around by 7 belts of walls and a stream of water. Crossing over a walkway, the enter the building, and they move toward the central area of the colorless and shady meadow that is located within it. There is a spirit of young and fascinating aspect who is paying particular attention to the terrestrial girl, it watches her, and it finally gets closer:

-- “What are you doing here? Since you’re still looking alive…yes, you are still alive in your body”, it addresses her.

-- “I’m looking for a spirit, I’m here for him, and I am passing through”, Lazra answers with surprise but not intimidated.

The spirit nods, staring at her thoughtfully. Then it continues:

-- “I’m Orpheus, and when I was living, I also visited hell, over here. My beloved wife Eurydice had died from a viper’s bite, but she was so young, that I came searching for her to try by whatever means to have her return to the mortal life. I am a singing poet, I play the lyre, and so I began to sing out my love, and my pain, with tears and sighs, that I almost wasn’t thinking of where I was anymore. The singing wasn’t useless: a delay to Eurydyce’s life was granted, if only, on the way back to the mortal world, neither of the two turned around backwards. Right before reaching the threshold, however, I instinctively turned around to make sure that Eurydice was with me, and she just vanishes away, ever since that very moment, returning to her eternal location among the shadows. I went back alone.”

Lazra stares at him silently for an instant, and then she asks:

-- “Ever since you came back, have you ever had the chance to meet her again…?”

-- “At this moment, Eurydice is not far from here, but in the world of the souls we have become for each other what any other spirit is for us, as the passions of the bodily and sensitive life no longer exist. In the Final Judgement, we will acquire our bodies again for ever, but the difference between man and woman will nevertheless be irrelevant.” After that he walks away, distracted by something else. 

While Lazra is mustering up her ideas and she turns toward Erì-thong to think of what to do, she sees and she feels, in a sense, that a feminine spirit, that is heading toward her left-hand side coming up from behind her, passes right through her, without really wanting to, since it is engrossed in the company with which it is moving. Lazra catches a glimpse of her as she walks on further, from behind, with the sensation that it was as vapour or smoke. 

At that moment, she is approached by another incorporeal soul, of proud and sturdy presence, while she is still astounded and bewildered.

-- “I was an Italic warrior, and one of the wise men that you met a short while ago recounted my deeds to men and women. In my life, I temporarily came here, accompanied by the sibyl of Cumae, to meet the spirit of my father, who had died a short time before then. I lingered with him, as he illustrated to me a few events which were to take place in the course of my life, and at a certain point, I felt moved by the emotion and I tried to hug him. For three times I flung my arms around his neck, and for three times I closed them empty as if through soft wind, or in a dream.” They keep looking at each other for a moment, after which Aeneas turns his stare toward her companion, without saying anything, but as in sign of a greeting, and he steps away. Erì-thong and Lazra, then, set off as well and head for the exit on the opposite side.

 

…and Socrates:

Progressing further, in silence, Lazra looks around her with interest, curiosity and timidity. At a certain point she spots two spirits coming up in their direction, neither glad nor distressed, who are walking one alongside the other, although without minding each other. They have an austere look to them, serious and lucid, and the girl recognizes in the aspect of one of them a familiar figure. It is like a reflex, a semblance of the soul, which comes and goes according to its position and movements, and she remembers what her wise companion related to her. She decides then, almost without thinking about it nor being fully aware of it, to take the initiative and, after exchanging an inquiring and knowing look with Erì-thong, she gets nearer:

-- “Excuse me, are you Socrates, the ancient sage philosopher?” 

The Greek philosopher gazes at her for long, surprised and disoriented by the encounter with a being who definitely looks alive, in flesh and blood.

-- “Yes, I am Socrates from Athens, and this is Phaedo, I am walking with.”

-- “I come from planet Gaia, but I am originally from the Earth, and I’ve had the chance to look over works and sources from that world. I’ve read some dialogues that Plato wrote about you. I found them very fascinating. I had almost right away the feeling that many things that you believed, that you asserted or practiced in your life were the same as in the life of Saint Francis. Both of you walked barefooted, you despised the pleasures of the senses and the body, and you went along with its needs just so as to maintain health, you scorned riches, honors and the worldly possessions, and you assiduously pursued virtue and the height of the soul, of the spirit, and the love of God and of the next one.”

-- “In general”, replies the philosopher placidly, “the wise and spiritual men of any place and any time, even though with slight variations and degrees, had the same aspirations in their lives, and sought after the same things.”

-- “I found it extraordinary that centuries before the teachings of Jesus Christ, you claimed not to commit injustices or ever do harm to anybody even in the case that an injustice or a wrong was suffered in the first place, because they are always in themselves a mistake. It is actually true, then, as Gandhi stated, that non-violence is as ancient as the mountains! One thing, though, I do not agree with of those that I have heard you say, and to be more exact, it is where you discussed about how to carry out an ideal and perfect republic. You considered that the guardian-philosophers were the most suitable citizens to govern the state, and that this fact was to be imposed, even through coercion, upon anyone who didn’t tranquilly accept it. I believe I am one of those persons who had rather be satisfied with imagining in the sky certain things, or only seeing them described, or traced, or represented, than compel somebody else by force to accept the practice of them. In some cases I feel very vile, and I reproach myself for a scarcely productive attitude, but I sincerely believe in ‘not doing unto others what you would not have others do unto you.’”

-- “It was a different time, in which I was living”, replies the wise philosopher. “It was the 5th century before Christ. Although I already felt that many lies were attributed to the divinities that were adored back then where I lived, I had not known Christ. I had not heard His living, true and luminous message of charity, love and compassion. Belonging to that time and that place, those terms appeared to us the best and the wisest to imagine a more righteous city. What is your name?”

-- “Lazra.”  

-- “Thank you for your sincerity”. She joins her hands across her chest, and she performs a tentative half bow, without speaking, while the philosopher resumes his route, together with his mate. Lazra and Erì-thong exit the castle.      

 

Encounter with the soul of the statue:

The spirit of the wise prophet leads her then to see the soul of the sculpture. She immediately recognizes the spirit that she admired the night of the astral conjunction in which the statue was animated.

-- “Hello”, Lazra says in seeing Dayéd, lowering her head down a few times in short and rapid movements as a sign of respectful greeting.

-- “Hello”, he answers, although not participating much in the situation. Dayéd doesn’t recognize her in his turn, there wouldn’t be any reason for that, since he did not dedicate any particular attention to her during his brief appearance on Gaia.

-- “My name is Lazra, and I am the adoptive daughter of the President of the Twelve from the planet Gaia, where you recently appeared for the period of a few hours of night. Besides illustrating the civilization of the men and women from the planet Earth, you spoke of a difficult situation, on account of which some of them had thought of sending off into space a message of alliance. The inhabitants from Gaia, however, do not have sufficient information at their disposal to try to answer, or to do anything about it in anyway. So a short while ago I have come to this place, with the indispensable guidance and company of Erì-thong, here by my side, to see whether it is possible to have you get back to the temporal world, alive in a mortal body. You could, therefore, maybe communicate some more useful information.” 

Dayéd listens and slowly nods with promptness, as if he had never stopped thinking and caring about the question of the gaiasis.

-- “Alright”, he replies then. “The decision is surely not up to me, and I have no idea whether it is possible. For whatever it’s worth, however, I will come with you right away, if you like.”

-- “Yes, I think we can do that…”, Erì-thong answers with a thoughtful look.

 

Minos:

They resume the journey, and to Lazra the surrounding environment continues to reveal itself by brief extensions, as she can discern no more than a limited depth of view, which still varies according to the particular moment and place, because of the vapors, the fumes and most of all of the uninterrupted darkness that extends, in some cases, for long stretches. It is Erì-thong who, despite the reduced visibility, seems to recognize the various places as they go, and the way to take through them.

Shortly after they set out again together with the spirit of the sculpture, the wise hermit is addressed by three souls who, from one side, are drawing his attention. He turns to take a better look at them, and all three slow their step down momentarily.

-- “I am the soul of a Guardian of the ideal republic that Socrates discussed in a dialogue written by Plato, this one here is the spirit of a Jedi Knight, of the republic that existed even before Socrates, and this here is a Samurai of the Order from the Modern Utopia.”

Erì-thong promptly nods, without replying anything, and he turns around toward the young companions:

-- “If you will please hold on for a few instants I would very much like to have a word with these gentlemen...”

Lazra and Dayéd nod their heads positively, and they step off to one side by themselves. Out of discretion, they timorously wander about in the surrounding vicinity, slowly and with no particular purpose, and gazing around for whatever they can.

-- “What is going on over there?”, Dayéd asks Lazra, indicating with the expression of his face a thick gathering of damned spirits, further ahead, which fades out of their view more because of the transparency of the spirits at a certain distance, and in the darkness, than because of a definite limit to their number. They notice that almost all of them are turned with their backs toward them and facing a point further in front of them, where someone is set who takes heed to what they have to say or offer, and then after this has occurred some spirit, despairing in consequence of a sentence, departs from the place for ever.

-- “I don’t know…”, she replies, “it seems that the spirits keep flowing over, and then they head off, after something happens…” They exchange a nervous and curious look between them, and they gradually move in that direction, while Lazra turns around to catch a quick glimpse of the hermit, who is busy conversing with the three spirits. They see the damned from their backs as they are all concentrated ahead of them, and they get to sight the center of the attention. They spot Minos, a gigantic being, with a severe and beastly aspect, of dimensions and proportions greater by several times than those of men or the gaiasis. He is half laid down on the ground, with his trunk leaned against the elbow of his right-hand forearm. At the same time that Dayéd and Lazra see him, Minos becomes aware of their presence, although in the midst of such a multitude, and immediately recognizes the girl for being still in her mortal life, instead of deceased as all the other spirits present there. The damned directly surrounding the two newcomers, noticing that those are drawing a particular attention from the giant in front of whom they stand in expectation, step off to one side, and they leave a certain liberty of passage between themselves and Minos. The judge, after a moment of surprise and bewilderment due to the novelty, begins to laugh out loud cavernously at the sight of Lazra, and then he breaks out:

-- “This isn’t a fun job for anyone here…”, he says pulling himself up in a sitting position, and pointing at the damned spirit standing by turn in front of him, almost responding to the curiosity of the two. His voice is low but deep and echoing, and Lazra hears it and feels it is at the same time, on account of the vibrations that run through her body from certain tones. Dayéd and she, not wanting to attract so much attention, back off slowly, gesturing a sign that they did not mean to intrude or bother.

All of a sudden Lazra feels her left arm being clutched, by something that tightens hard and tugs her toward the gigantic monster. She realizes that it’s Minos’ very tail, which can outstretch to a certain length. Dayéd tries to take a grip on it in vain, and nevertheless remains by the girl’s side as long as he can. She cannot help but go along with the traction, as the fellow, sitting leaned upon his left palm, grabs a hold of her with his right hand, squeezing with his thumb on her belly, and his other fingers beyond her hips, behind her back.

-- “What a nice little body you are still wearing there, you tiny one! Where are you going? Have you come here to see me by any chance? Oh, don’t be ashamed if that is the case, all of them that you see here have come for the same reason…!”

Dayéd tries hard to get a hold of the hand and the arm that clench the girl but to no use, so he moves off aside reflecting on what to do and enjoining the giant with severity to stop.

Minos throws him an angry and menacing look, and growls toward him grinding his teeth. Lazra attempts to snap off free of the gigantic grip, hitting it with her hands, and then grasping it and pulling as hard as she can, but it is useless. Minos tightens on her somewhat, stretching out a smile in her direction, and he runs his thumb upward on her front, but in doing so his grip unbalances and lets up on most of her weight, so Lazra manages to slip downward and tumble on the ground. 

Erì-thong then arrives, and he and Dayéd reach Lazra while she is getting herself together, and they set close next to her.

-- “Minos”, the spirit of the ex-Guardian addresses him with a cautious but firm and resolute tone of voice. “Leave this girl alone, don’t think about her anymore, she did not come here to be evaluated and judged by you, as the rest of these damned souls, that just departed from their earthly lives. She is still alive in her mortal body, you have seen that, she is only passing through here. It is somewhere else she needs to go, and the two of us are meant to accompany her. Do you remember Polyphemus, madly in love with Galatea, and how he became upset with Acis, her young lover. He killed him, by hurling a piece of mountain at him, and from his remains the spring of a river originated, and the spirit of Acis turned into its divinity. Well Dayéd here is already a spirit, and not a man of flesh and blood, a passionate lover. Lazra is not here for his love, but for that of all her terrestrial fellowmen. Do not get angry, then, and let us move forward, because she is being awaited on high.” After that the girl, half terrorized and half flabbergasted, draws back timidly, with a humble look, and the three leave the place.

 

Encounter with Cerberus:

Lazra, Dayéd and Erì-thong are moving forward on their path, which is indicated and directed by the spirit of the wise hermit, while the girl is recovering herself from the shock of the fright.

At a certain point, leaping out into the open from behind a rock, a tremendous being appears in front of Lazra, roaring ferociously and painfully for the hearing, and when it lands on its squat legs, the girl discerns more clearly the figure of an enormous, monstrous three-headed dog, with a serpent’s tail and covered with slimy scales. The body of the animal is vibrating, and from the various eyes it glares at the girl with outrage, shakes all its heads, drooling out of its mouths, and continuing to emit foul noises and cavernous roars. It slowly moves its paws toward Lazra, while she backs away blindly, now speechless and pale with terror, and staggering without diverting the petrified look from the beast. She then touches a rocky wall behind her, toward which she’s being pressed by the slow but relentless surge of the dog, she leans against that and sidles rubbing along it. She stares at it beside herself with terror, breathless and quivering, and even forgetting about the presence of the spirit companions. Erì-thong, then, stealthily sneaks next to her, upright against the rocky barrier, and he pulls out of his garments three honey-flavored cakes. He picks up from the ground three stones, which he wraps up entirely with each one of the cakes, and he prepares to toss them to the beast. He throws one to the head in the middle, which bites into it as it flies by; another one to the head on the left, and the last one to that on the right. Now the monstrous dog stops, as it’s intent on chewing with all the jaws of its three heads. Pretty soon, though, the necks begin to writhe, as they perceive the foreign bodies present in the food. The beast lets out howls of pain, it wails and roars, in several directions, it wriggles and turns on itself, it tosses to the ground and rolls over on its back and on its sides. It stands back up, as the girl and Erì-thong steal away from that corner and reach Dayéd. The dog flings itself against the rocky wall, where a moment before Lazra was standing, it slams its head into it, it scrapes with desperate force its necks and flanks against it. Then it sets back upon its paws, and it lurches away, at times walking, at times springing on a run, at times barely dragging itself along.

-- “That is Cerberus”, the ex-Guardian relates to them. “It is almost impossible to tread into this dark world without encountering it, even if one doesn’t go by where it is located. On purpose I had carried those honeycakes with me, I know it is fond of them.”

-- “Is it…d-dying?...”, the girl asks stuttering, still strained with terror.

-- “It will digest the stones”, the wise man answers her, “and it will turn them out of that hellish carcass just like everything else that it swallows, but at least for the moment it got a little distracted…Filthy dog, even being tied on a leash was no good in changing its character. One time Hercules came all the way over here to capture it, he immobilized it, by tightening a lace around its middle neck, and he dragged it to the temporal world, as the last one of his labours. Later on, Cerberus was brought back to this place.”

Afterwards, he observes the directions for an instant and then he adds:

-- “Now let’s try to get going again.” He gives Lazra a warm look, which is of comfort and encouragement to her.   

 

The Styx swamp:

By the least demanding routes, from the point of view of crossing the places of torments and of contact with the damned, through steep and rough descents, and narrow and unsafe passages, the three finally arrive at the shores of a huge fuming swamp. Lazra and Dayéd observe with apprehension the black, liquid muck, slimily boiling and in continuous ferment, which lies out at their feet and ahead of them, as far as the shore on the other side.

-- “This the Styx swamp”, Erì-thong informs them. “It is an ample pit that surrounds the walls of the city of Dis, which you may spot on the opposite shore, over there.”

From the place where they are standing, they can see the walls of the city of Dis, of a red and burning-hot aspect, with quivering glimmers of smoky fires on top of the walls themselves and beyond them, although they cannot make out exactly what is going on the other shore, for which they are heading, as the environment is dark, very gloomy and dismal.

In a nightly atmosphere, lit up locally by gleams and faint reflexes, they soon catch sight of a boatman coming along on board his skiff, by which they should get across the swamp, as do all the spirits who pass through this place after being judged by Minos.

-- “This is Phlegyas”, Erì-thong informs them before the boatman pulls over.

Next, they jump on board, without speaking, and without Phlegyas himself saying a word, almost as if he is already aware of the peculiarity of the situation, or rather he simply does not care and just goes on with his office. As they progress further over the liquid sludge, Lazra gets to see more closely that there are damned spirits immersed in the swamp, in part at the surface level, beating themselves with their hands, their feet, their heads and teeth, and in part underwater, seeming to gurgle their sin from the depths, making the surface turn and seethe.

-- “In this place, the pains for wrath, sloth and superbness are suffered”, relates the soul of the knowledgeable hermit. “Some spirits you may see, because they are at the surface, but others are always completely immersed, so one might spot them only by the movement and the stir of the muck.”

Some of the damned notice the particular weight of the boat, and breaking above the surface they realize the circumstances of the load. The craft glides on past, as Erì-thong continues:

-- “The city of Dis is the lowest part of hell, and it holds the spirits that chose to sin according to their own will, whereas in the part outside of its walls, the spirits are unrestrained sinners.” Lazra receives this information with respectful silence, like a scholar who pays careful attention to her mentor. After a pause Erì-thong resumes:

-- “On the other side of this swamp, at the entrance of Dis, the shore is frequented by the Furies together with the gorgon Medusa. They are beasts that it would be best by far not to encounter, and I hope that this does not happen, but in the case that they should realize our presence, we need to be careful. In her mortal life, Medusa was the most terrible of the gorgons, she had a head overgrown with snakes and serpents which fell also upon her body, and most of all she had a glare that turned anyone who looked her straight in the eye into stone. Many valuable men and women were literally petrified, becoming pieces of stone, as a consequence of the adventure. Only Perseus managed to defeat her, and finally slash off the head covered with snakes, because he avoided looking at her directly and he watched the reflex of her on his shield, until he came within range of a sword stroke. From the gorgon’s blood sprang out a white horse with wings, by the name of Pegasus, on which Perseus has ever since moved from place to place. The spirit of Medusa, however, still plagues the shore ahead, to which we are headed, and her glare, if anybody happens to come across it alive in their body of mortal flesh, has the same effect as before. For this reason, in case she should appear, we need to be alert about Lazra”, and he turns to look at her in particular.   

 

The city of Dis:

The rest of the crossing takes place in silence, both on the part of the souls in the mud, and on the part of the visitors. So they reach the other shore and step off the vessel. As soon as they arrive, they realize the movement and the agitation that characterize these places of the bank, between the walls of the city and the shores of the swamp, which could not be seen from the other side. A short distance from where they stepped off, in proximity of the gates in the walls, a number of damned spirits are standing around who express suspicion and distress in regard to the newly-arrived, and in particular two of them, the closest ones, whisper something between them, sending mockery and menacing looks in the direction of the visitors. Subsequently, one of the two decides to get nearer, and as he is a few steps away, he grunts:

-- “Look, this is not a place where one can just come and go as they please, you know!”, and he makes a gesture of his arm to indicate other damned ones standing there, and the walls of the city behind their shoulders. Noticing that none of the three strangers reply to him, he lets out an expression of annoyance, rolling his eyeballs upward, and he turns toward his companions. Behind him, then, numerous are the damned spirits who exclaim and shout out loud abuses and vulgarities in the direction of the three, which among other things turn out to be hard to comprehend or guess. They make signs and movements with their bodies, so as to enjoin them to back off and get out in the direction that they came. For the most part they turn out to be a hostile hindrance in the continuation of their path, and evidently they are particularly bothered by the presence of a live person. To Lazra, in fact, is addressed the majority of the outraged glares and the attentions.

-- “Get out of here!!”, they hear someone yell out from the vicinity of the walls.

-- “Get away!!!”

Others and in a greater number, in the meantime, are getting excited and they surge in their direction.

-- “Away! There must be some reason if all of us here are saying the same thing, isn’t there?”, continue the various grunts.

-- “Yes! We’ve had enough of this!!”. Someone laughs, commenting with the neighbour. Others are mumbling with an offended and hostile expression, giving Lazra, Erì-thong and Dayéd hateful looks.

The spirit of the former-Guardian then turns to Dayéd and the girl:

-- “There’s no need to be surprised, nor to give the situation particular attention. In a place like this, only a spirit of the same kind would not arouse a similar reaction upon arrival.” After which, despite the hostile surrounding clamor, he gathers together closer with his companions and reports to them:

-- “My duty in escorting you guys on the way into the eternal world of the souls is almost out, by now. You will find assistance elsewhere, and in other ways. What you need to do at this moment is walk past the threshold of Dis, through those gates. In doing so, you will not properly enter the hellish city, which is surrounded by those walls, but you will be transported to the skies, as if by a celestial vision.” He stares Lazra and Dayéd straight in the eyes, with a concentration and an intensity that remove from their spirit any distraction or secondary presence.

 

The Erinyes:

All of a sudden, while the three visitors are collecting their ideas as to what to do, and they are the object of the attentions and the curses from the surrounding spirits, the Erinyes, or Furies as they are otherwise called, appear to them: Megaera, Alecto and Tisiphone. They are flying high, in the gloomy air thick with stinking, mucky vapor, and they get closer, all three of them together, with their arms, necks and hair wrapped by snakes, big and little ones. As soon as they sight the newcomers, they become furious, and they immediately manifest an attitude of contempt and scorn toward them: 

-- “Aaaaggghhh!!!!”, breaks out shrieking the first one of them, dashing in the direction of the three strangers, ahead of her companions. “Any more presumptuous and arrogant wanderers who took it into their heads to come across these dark lands before the time has arrived, without being requested, and get away with it?! What in hell did you ever think you had to do here, with the damned community?” In pronouncing these expressions, she stopped halfway in the air, over Erì-thong, Lazra and Dayéd, in part so as to stare them down better, in part to hold on until she is reached by her sisters and decide together what measures to take. She keeps on flapping slowly her enormous scaled wings, with reflexes of colors shading from green to dirty yellow, while she stops speaking, and from her mouth a reptile pops out, with the head first, and then the whole body, and it tumbles down on the shore. It is now one of her partners that intervenes, as they are positioning by her sides: 

-- “Back off! Go back the way you came!!”, she exclaims, while the first one bursts with laughter that she tries to hold back so as not to interrupt the dispute. The third one carries on:

-- “No more living being is allowed to set foot, not even for a brief moment, inside the dreadful city!”                                       

Afterwards, while the one of the Erinyes that just spoke sneers scarily and a slim viper slithers out of her ear, all the three of them seem to throb in the expectation to move, and suddenly they hurl all together in the direction of the newly-arrived. The strangers react with terror and promptness. Lazra lets out a high-pitched and desperate shriek, and she puts her arms over her hair, as if to shelter herself. Erì-thong, however, maintaining control over his nerve and his sensations, urges his two mates to dodge out of the way, off to one side. In the movement Lazra trips over and tumbles to the ground, and the spirits of the wise man and Dayéd crouch down over her, so that the Erinyes swooping down suddenly steer upward and ahead, gaining some height again, but at the same time proceeding for a stretch straight in the direction of the damned in front of the gates of Dis. The foul souls in their turn, accustomed to being scared of the Erinyes and of the gorgons, get stricken with dismay and panic, and they quickly jolt away from in front, leaving a certain liberty of passage. Erì-thong immediately perceives this novelty, and suggests to Lazra and Dayéd to head with no hesitation for the entrance not far away. They react promptly, and before the winged Furies manage to get themselves together and charge at them again, they reach and pass through the threshold of the hellish city.  

 

They walk through the threshold of Dis:

After passing the entrance of the city of Dis, Lazra and Dayéd are plunged into a candid and suffused glow, soft at first but sufficient to make Lazra close her blinded eyes, accustomed as she is to the darkness of hell. Even with her eyes shut, however, she perceives the light gradually increasing its intensity, while any particular circumstance of the place and time fades away. At a certain point they can barely make out a few outstandingly luminous presences, vivid and blinding glares that move in the general light and come alongside them, with caressing manners which Lazra feels as so gentle and harmonious as nothing that she has happened to experience up to this moment. Without being able to use much of their sight, they feel lightened and transported in suspension, while the suffused glow turns more and more vivacious, and soon becomes dazzling as the presences themselves, who blend together with the whole atmosphere. Luminosity fills their eyes and spirits, pouring in and pervading them entirely, to the point that Lazra, the only one still alive in a perceptive body, loses the sensation of her corporeality, and after suspending them in a transition beyond time and place, it dwindles and progressively dissolves, leaving the girl the chance to acquire her sensitivity and her material perceptions again.  

 

In the Kingdom of Heaven:

They mutually exchange looks of check-up and confirmation, and they are disoriented, hesitating and fearful for being in a new place and not being able to count upon a knowledgeable guide anymore. They find themselves in the superior Kingdom of the Skies, where the celestial color of the infinite depths, brightened by suffused light, is tinged by pure and limpid whiteness, of varying density and consistency, which spreads and expands in every place with noticeable continuous movement. The air is clear and bright, there is no trace of material or worldly things; the two guests are as if suspended in space, including Lazra, on account of an exceptional grace that has been granted her. There aren’t any annoying or discordant noises, any visual or hearing accidents: every thing is in harmony perfectly measured and proportioned with the whole environment and all that is within it. Gliding one’s glance over such luminous spaces is imbuing and filling one’s spirit with a total consonance. To tell the truth, there are just no words that could render even a pale description.

-- “You know what sensation I have?”, Dayéd whispers in the direction of Lazra.

-- “What…?”, she asks, pleasantly curious about the fact that Dayéd is confiding something to her.   

-- “A work of a craftsman, such as those that one sees, hears or touches in the mortal life, has the purpose of representing a part or an experience of the creation and of life, and it is an imprint, a trace of them, with an interpretation from the author who is inspired by the harmony, the order and the proportions of nature and tries to inform his work from them. In this manner, the mortal world, which is in the becoming of time, seems to me now as an imprint, a momentary and partial reflex of these extensions and these environments, which spread out everywhere and always. The harmony and the exact proportions, in this case, are not inspired by another source, but they are unlimited and universal faculty of the maker.”  

 

Michelangelo…:

In these celestial and musical atmospheres, of a melody that is not heard through one’s ears but is seen by one’s interior eyes and is felt by the spirit, glares appear to Lazra and Dayéd, which at times are barely discernable from the depths of the luminous spaces, and at times shine in clear and vivid blazes. Their very luminosity goes from being steady and constant to being changeable and animated by flashes. They are in absolute harmony among them and with the whole of which they are part, and since the infinite inspires all here, the part equals the whole.

One of those glares, then, sets out towards the two new presences; it is so vivid, and gives off luminosity to the point that Lazra cannot quite distinguish precise traits to its figure, nor take in the sight of it for a long time continuously. As it’s gotten within their vicinity, it slowly comes to a stop, and with infinite grace its outline becomes more definite and intelligible. So it takes a step forward, and addresses itself to them, slightly opening both arms, somewhat bent at the elbows, and with its hands relaxed but stretched open:

-- “You are welcome, Lazra and Dayéd”, it warmly begins. It is not quite next to them, but still Dayéd and Lazra can both hear its voice as if it were whispered into their ears. It continues: “In the mortal life of a time of the past, I was an artist from Florence, a city of the planet Earth. My name is Michelangelo Buonarroti, and I am the one who lived out the fate of sculpting the original statue of David, twice as big as the subject’s real dimensions, from which the reproduction was obtained that the gaiasis discovered on Atlas. At this moment it is by divine will that I’ve been called to assist and accompany you along on your journey.”

The two visitors exchange a timid and comforting look. The artist proceeds:

-- “I have been chosen in particular for this task not because I have merits or a desire greater than those of other celestial spirits, but for the reason that, since the statue for which you are here to entreat a grace is a copy of that work of mine, this would have been a sign of positive support and good disposition on the part of the sky.”

Lazra and Dayéd keep on staring at him enchanted, and after his last words, the girl slightly lowers her head and bobs it up and down a few times as a sign of respect and gratitude. Both of them, however, feel timid and awkward. The celestial spirit resumes speaking:

-- “My location in Paradise is among the souls who served the faith and the Holy Spirit through the culture of art, producing pieces of manufacture, representations or works which had the purpose to spread, to whoever was interested, the Word of the Scriptures, or more in general to interpret and even transfigure the sense and the significance of them into various forms and expressions, that could reach and touch intimately the soul of men, making it susceptible to the things of good, of love, truth and mercy.”  

The two guests stare at him engrossed and motionless, as he slowly comes a few steps closer, and he goes on:

-- “As the spirits of Trajan and Rifeus, who weren’t properly Christians having lived before the incarnation of Jesus, are nevertheless situated in these skies, among those who governed nations in their earthly life, on account of the fervent love for justice that characterized them, and as in heaven there are divine spirits like Mahatma Gandhi, although he never was baptized and he practised another religion, so there are works that maybe don’t concern directly the Scriptures and sacred subjects much in a strict sense but which interpret truthfully and profoundly the spirit of them.”

 

…and other glows:

After pronouncing these last words, the soul of Michelangelo gracefully makes a half turn on himself and turns his look more in depth, where Dayéd and Lazra glance in their turn and discern now a great number of glares, that move about and across and pass by and in front of each other, while the intensity of their brightness is constantly flickering, as that of lively flames exposed to a breeze. The two newcomers cannot even make out as far as where the multitude extends, as it becomes transparent and invisible to them in the endless depths. Michelangelo continues in relation to those, who, although they are undefined in their features to Dayéd and Lazra’s eyes, appear to be participating, acknowledge the signs and answer with glimmers of greeting:

-- “The soul who was Raphael Sanzio is here, as is Le Corbusier, Frank Lloyd Wright, Giotto, Victor Hugo, Lev Tolstoj, Alessandro Manzoni, Dante Alighieri, master of those who wish to seek information about the afterlife world, and infinite more, of the past and future.”

The two listeners run their enchanted and astounded glance along, Lazra’s mouth is partly open, and her lower lip is trembling.

-- “The spirit of their good and true works”, the artist resumes, “is itself part of Heaven, contributing to the brilliant radiance let off by every spiritual being that you can see in these spaces, and when the Last Judgement occurs, also by its body, which will have resurrected to it.” 

-- “Erì-thong, who escorted us until a short while ago,” Lazra whispers with a soft tone of voice, “mentioned to me about this…” Michelangelo smiles at her gently and nods:

-- “As the reflexes of a mirror arise from the presence of a subject in front of the smooth and reflecting surface, so the soul of a work of art in honor of somebody or on the part of someone, be it a painting, a sculpture, a writing, a concept, music, film, or, more in general, an action, will turn out to be a luminous reflection, an emotional emanation, which comes from and is given off by the subject. The way in which in the sensitive world someone who has been smoking much holds the smell of the smoke upon themselves, that others may recognize, or yet someone who has eaten something might carry in their breath a particular flavour, may be suggestive of how the spirit of truthful works emanates from the glow of the subject involved. Sometimes the souls of the works are predominantly representations of a particular subject, and become therefore associated to that, and not only in Heaven, as you know, but also in the inferior realms; the souls of other works, instead, as may be the writings or films that recount a story, with characters and events of fantasy, or architectural, technical achievements, as well as scientific discoveries, and, more in general, acts of charity, and expressions of love and mercy, since they don’t regard any particular subjects, are connected to their own authors, or yet to the spirits who have a relation of some kind with them.”

At this point, Dayéd musters his courage and asks:

-- “Do these glowing reflections represent differences in merit?...”

-- “Greater and lesser degrees of grace and virtue exist, but it’s not that a subject turns out to be worthier than others on the basis of such visual increases, because every soul springs grace from within it anyway, more or less evidently according to the eternal divine decrees, and it is not affected by further inputs. However, when any of those are present, they become part and essence of the atmosphere originated by the subject. Moreover, the emission of a particular glow, up here, belongs as much to the spirit involved as to every one else, or rather to no one in particular, but to the whole. Therefore every glow is bound to rejoice and benefit from the radiance of the others, as if it were its own. In a sense it happens in a similar way that in the mortal life the living beings, terrestrial or gaiasis, take pleasure in seeing something beautiful as a painted figure, a form, an animation, or in glancing through a writing, or in hearing sounds in proportioned rhythm. As has already been revealed to you in another place, Lazra, this concerns the true and good works of craft, which therefore stem from truth, and not the reproductions and the copies of other creations, or the works that originate from trivial or dismal impulses, or worse from false shadows, that do not have a soul, a spirit of their own, but exist as matter and physicality. The soul of the original statue of David that I sculpted, for instance, is part of the glow given off by David himself, and at times one may see it and recognize it, as well as, on the other hand, the souls of all the other works that represent him or concern him.”

 

Encounter with David, the king of Israel:

After that the soul of the artist from Florence stops speaking, he looks down for a moment, and then he resumes observing them, while he is approached by another glow, coming up from behind, who as the last words were being pronounced has gradually drawn forward in their direction. Michelangelo does not appear surprised at all, and continues looking at the two visitors peacefully smiling with grace, with his arms loosely hanging down, and his hands joined in front.

-- “Hello to you”, begins the spirit that has just joined them. Lazra lowers her head down a few times in humble response, with a veneration even greater than before, as she thinks she recognizes a few reflexes and semblances emitted by the soul in front of them. The spirit of Dayéd makes as if to pronounce a salutation, but he only manages to move his lips, at the same time feeling remarkably ashamed on account of the observations just made by the artist. The soul of Michelangelo introduces the new company:

-- “Approximately 1000 years before Christ, this celestial beacon was, in his bodily life, the Singer of the Holy Spirit, David king of Israel 

Lazra and Dayéd are overwhelmed with awe, and the spirit of David begins speaking again:

-- “Dayéd doesn’t have to feel guilty or disgraceful in any way about the fact that he represents a reproduction of the original work made by Michelangelo, because the motive and the circumstances that brought to his expedition by the human beings of the Earth have a celestial and virtuous grace to them which is by no means of a lesser degree in comparison with that of a truthful work.”

Michelangelo in the meantime nods seriously, still observing the two in front. The king of Israel goes on:

-- “It is very important and vital, as a matter of fact, that the inhabitants of the planet Gaia acquire more information about the men and women of the Earth, to then attempt to get in touch with them, and together that they assist and support each other. The terrestrials find themselves in a situation of urgent need, and the survival itself of their spirit and of their soul is at stake. There is a risk that the same thing happens to the very essence of men and women which you saw on Gaia about the statue, when its breath of life leaves it and does not animate it anymore. It isn’t that they might properly turn into stone, but that all that would be left of them is matter and physicality, with no vital spirit.”

-- “In fact, as you have always known,” interjects the artist from Florence, “Lazra and Dayéd are here to address a supplication for grace to the Virgin Mother, in order for Dayéd to return to the bodily life, in advance of the 500 years scheduled for the statue, and live a life as a mortal adult, supplying therefore the necessary service so that the gaiasis may respond to the message sent off by the inhabitants of the Earth.”

Both of the celestial spirits, in uttering these things, maintain a serious and motionless composure, serene and appeasing. Michelangelo deeply gazes at Dayéd and Lazra, and after expressing the words with every faculty of his spirit, he gives a slight peaceful smile. The spirit of David, now with his hands behind his back, lowers his look, closing his eyes and faintly smiling. After which he raises his face again to observe Lazra, and smiling he tells her:

-- “You have been courageous to decide to try all this, as was indicated to you by Erì-thong, at your young age.”

She raises her brows and opens her eyes wide, gaping her mouth and somewhat lowering her head, in a respectful expression of exclamation, and she whispers:

-- “…I am actually out of my mind…believe me!...”, and she even lets out a hint of nervous laughter. “I am…unsure..unsure of me, that is, and I am scared!...” Her voice gets almost stifled in her throat, and then she remains silent for a few moments, which the two souls of the sky respect, to give the two guests the chance to recover and react. Afterwards, with expressions of awe and infinite veneration, Lazra addresses David again with a faint voice and the most discreet tone that she can:   

-- “Did you get mad, when Michal made that observation to you?”

David smiles gently, and with interest he replies:

-- “At the moment I did, it bothered me, not so much for a personal reason, as because she didn’t understand at all the motive for which we were doing all that, the spirit and the sense of the situation: it was about a dedication to the Lord, unconditioned, animated by total zeal and joy, and therefore also by personal renunciation. Michal was blinded in this by her pride and her vanity, and so I answered her what is written. I didn’t stay angry for long, tough, and if it had been for me, and the events had allowed for it, I would have proved that to her as well.”

Next, David and Michelangelo start moving forward along with Dayéd and Lazra.

 

Saint Francis:

Progressing forward in silence, Lazra and Dayéd glance through the space around them, with their heads slightly tilted downward, so that in order to look straight they keep their eyeballs somewhat rolled into the high part of their sockets. If she were alone, Lazra would probably be walking on her toes, and now besides that she is trying to keep up with the two celestial guides’ stride. Pretty soon they see another vivid glow, graceful and bright in its aspect which is at first vague and undefined, and more distinct and intelligible as it draws closer to them. It starts talking while it is approaching, before it arrives in proximity, but Lazra hears its voice as if the air itself were addressing her, the space around and within her.

-- “I have been deeply touched and moved, Lazra, when you had me present while talking with Socrates, a little while ago, and you showed righteous and virtuous feelings about charity and justice. “ He then gets near the four, and his aspect is outlined more clearly to the girl’s eyes, who notices that his lips are moving, and so finds confirmation that the voice she was hearing actually belongs to him. With his arms loose along his front and his hands joined together, the spirit goes on in a mild tone:

-- “And so much so because it doesn’t happen very often, indeed too seldom, that one is sincerely interested and wholehearted like you in the Spirit, with which I impressed my life and my works, that one is so, I mean to say, out of real interest and love, and not after motives of advantage or material gains. Even among the very members of the religious order that I founded on the Earth, or more in general of the Church of Jesus Christ, there happens to be some who reproach and confess people that are actually much more pious and zealous than themselves. If it is true that Saint Pio from Pietrelcina, on the planet that you come from, Lazra, at times refused to confess some who would go to him with a superficial attitude just to try the experience of meeting with a person portrayed in the papers, there are also colleagues of his who reject sincere penitents just for the experience of an act of distinction, even though blind and unjust. Saint Pio himself, however, despite the several hardships that he had to go through for a long time, used to say that the Church is yet always mother, and it is spouse of Christ, and with constancy he defended it and respected it, even though friends and acquaintances of his criticized the bitter and unfair treatments that were dealt to him. I myself, Francis, used to say when I was living that although the hands of some priest might not have been immaculate and properly clean, it was by means of those that God was accomplishing His sacraments, so in that fashion I would accept them in humbleness, leaving to God any judgements or evaluations. Instead, estimates to this effect were uttered by the sky through the mouth of that author who illustrated this very celestial kingdom with so much insight. It will therefore be up to your judgement to meditate and to balance with wisdom between the teaching ‘not to judge’ and the loyalty toward what you feel and know is true and right, which implies precise discernment and choices. This is true of anything, and sometimes recognizing and choosing can be hard and distressful. Have faith, and cultivate the spirit, and this will guide you on your path.”

Dayéd and Lazra keep on observing him with veneration, as scholars or disciples who hang on every word of the master. Lazra nods very softly. Michelangelo intervenes at this point:

-- “Saint Clare also, for whom I know you, Lazra, have felt an affection ever since you heard of her when you were a child, is located not far from here, together with her mother and sister, and Mother Teresa, and other devout women of the recent past, of the future and of the terrestrial antiquity. There, if you take a look in that direction you may make out that blaze which is throbbing in its glare as a sign of greeting and approval.”

-- “Yes, I see, thank you…”, the girl whispers, following with her look the direction indicated to her. Saint Francis resumes speaking:

-- “She is present with you, when you decide to restrain yourself with the food, or to make some other renunciation of pleasures thinking about her.” Lazra’s nodding is barely visible, as she carries on being surprised that he knows and is talking about aspects of her life that she hasn’t expressed. The Saint goes on:

-- “Maybe keeping track of time is not the first thing that you have in mind, but I remind you that a day and a half has gone by since, Lazra, you came to the eternal world of the souls, and as Erì-thong already told you before you set out, I would like to recommend you not to eat any food for the whole time that you will be here, or else it might turn out to be impossible for you to get back to the temporal world. Once you are out, you will be able to make up for that, and recover, although three days is not such a long time, don’t worry. More in general, about fasting and the renunciations on the whole, I would like to encourage you to behave the way that you feel and believe is most appropriate, according to the health that God will want to grant and command you.”   

 

Gandhi and Martin Luther King:

In the meantime two souls are approaching from far away and, like all the others encountered by Dayéd and Lazra, their features become clearer in the glare as they draw closer and the sight gets used to their light. It is David now speaking:

-- “These are the beloved souls of Mahatma Gandhi and Martin Luther King”

The two spirits are coming close, and it seems to Lazra that they are passing by to say hello, but without uttering a word and without staying. In front of her and Dayéd the two stop for an instant, both of them smiling radiantly, they lower their look in an affectionate welcome and perform a slow bow of salutation, Gandhi with the palms of his hands joined in front of him, and the reverend King putting his right hand up to his chest. Lazra is as surprised and speechless from timidity as joyous and excited about the honor that has been granted her, and full of the cheerfulness of a vivacious child. Dayéd and she take a bow in their turn, both of them lingering down for a few moments, and as they pull themselves up again, they see the two souls moving forward past them, still smiling.

Saint Francis, then, exchanges a knowing look with Michelangelo and David, who step back, with a wide and lasting smile and lowering their look in a good-bye, and they draw away from the two visitors and the soul of the saint, to then get back and vanish in the surrounding brightness.

-- “Come on”, the saint from Assisi urges them, “let’s move along, soon we ought to be getting there”, and the other two get going quickly before he finishes the words.        

 

Towards the Virgin Mother:

As they move walking along in the atmosphere, Lazra and Dayéd take an ample look around more attentively than they have done up to this point, and they spot many different glares, at times just catching fast glimpses of them, for an instant, because afterwards they merge into the general radiance of space; Lazra recognizes a few of them, not many, but they all seem familiar to her, almost as if she has always known them, even though she knows she has never seen them before. They both distinguish smiling and amiable looks and expressions, even only in the glow that they give off; those souls appear infinitely merciful, comforting and encouraging, only by the aspect and expressions of them. Further ahead they catch sight of a figure, or better, a feminine luminous being, who draws back from another presence, masculine, although these apparent distinctions of sex are vague sensations, hints of the aspects, and not real differences, because it’s love and light that the spirits are made of and shine with. Nevertheless, the spirit from whom She just departed was Him; although Lazra hasn’t made out or discerned anything, she feels, she guesses and understands that it is the Lord, the Son of the Spirit : the center, the essence, the focus, the being, at the moment when the whole is present and concentrated in one place. Lazra and Dayéd perceive all this, they feel it and become aware of it. Subsequently She, mother full of grace, steps away and slowly heads toward them; actually, more than anything else, it is them that get close to Her. There, She is standing right in front of them…She doesn’t appear bigger than the other spirits, or up higher, or more luminous: maybe because they already all, in themselves, are shining with pure and absolute light, although with varying reflexes. Nevertheless, they perceive who it is, they feel it and become aware of it for what it is, precisely, and what is revealed to them, because they have been granted the grace. A sensation of infinite veneration and wonder takes a hold of Lazra and Dayéd’s souls, and all the rest of the surrounding space fades away, with its brightness and its splendour, and it is no more in their sight. Lazra almost doesn’t feel like opening her mouth, nor moving, nor even taking a breath. She loses awareness of herself, and she is not sure whether she can hold up with the situation and stay on her feet, or she is about to pass out. She doesn’t think about it though, she lets it be what it has to, as if abandoning herself to a superior and incomprehensible will, in which she trusts. Many presences gather around them and stand about momentarily, as if they were attending, but none of them linger for long, each one moves along and draws away. At other moments, instead, they feel as if they are alone, as if no other spirit were present or participating. Truthfully though, Lazra understands, or better, she feels that everyone and everything in that atmosphere participates and is aware of everything and everyone else, as one infinite being which is, reflects and manifests itself in their particular presences. And She is standing right in front of them, Lazra feels almost unable and inadequate to fully realize what is going on, as if she were always missing something important, as if she could only get to a certain extent. Somehow like in a dream that one might have about wanting to move, run, swim, walk or else, and one just can’t get going, there are no effects to the efforts, and the result is minimum or null. So, She, mother of love, with a voice which is felt and perceived by the spirit, instead of being heard through the ears, and with a tone of infinite and incomparable grace, tenderness and mercy, speaks to them: 

-- “The divine Love, which is infinite spirit, and is always itself, in every place and in every time, because beyond space and time that He himself has created and ordered from nothing, has since always and for ever planned and arranged what is taking place at this moment. It was destiny that you two came over here and that, in His divine providence, the grace was granted to let Dayéd get back to the temporal world so that the statue would be animated again, to live the time left of a mortal life in a body of flesh and blood.”

Lazra and the spirit of the sculpture listen delighted, for the most part unconsciously. She continues:

-- “You were chosen, Lazra, and you have had a moving grace to use so much self-denial in dedicating yourself to this mission. It is with a celestial devotion that all the time you hold within your soul the love for men and women your fellows, and as a consequence also for your current companions of the new world, and you take courage and drive from the hope to do a good service with your commitment and your efforts.” 

Lazra has lowered her eyes, she is looking downward, and she is deeply moved and overwhelmed by emotions. Dayéd is enchanted instead, although he can’t keep his eyes on Her figure for more than short moments, and then he draws it off to the surrounding environment.

 

A precept:

-- “However, I would like to make a recommendation: you will both have to commit yourselves to observing a precept on the way back. You need to pass through a stretch of the realm of hell, which you already came across on your way over, and whatever happens along your path, whatever is the difficulty, the temptation, or the provocation that you may encounter, I recommend that you have an attitude of mercy, of compassion and forgiveness toward the inhabitants of the world of the souls. Don’t reply an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth to any insults, derisions or expressions of scorn from the spirits of hell; don’t ever answer an abuse with an abuse, an offence received with another offence, but always, should you be confronted with an evil, respond with good; with compassion and pity to hatred, with a blessing to a curse. Passively resist evil, violence, without reproducing them in return. And value and prize this precept more than any sensitive and temporal thing, than any possession, even your own safety and what you may mean one for the other. In this manner it is possible to gain the way out and get back to the mortal world, otherwise God’s schemes do not imply that, and in a short time, the consequence for coming short of the precept will be to fall into a state of unconscious sleep, from which there is no awakening, precluding the opportunity to leave the afterlife world.” 

Both Dayéd and Lazra are now gaping at the speaker with their eyes wide open, attentive and at the same time carefully meditating.

-- “Before going back through the world of hell, however, you will have to pass by the Terrestrial Paradise, and take a drink from the Lethe river, which will give you a vague amnesia. Once you get back to the mortal world, you will retain a veiled memory of your experience in the realm of the souls, but nothing vivid and precise, almost like the faint sensation of a dream, to the point that at times you will even doubt, within yourselves, whether it really took place or it is all rather a fantasy, or an impression.”

After uttering these words, smiling, joining her hands toward them and nodding sweetly, Mary looks at them with infinite mercy and compassion, which there are no human faculties to comprehend, nor suitable words to express. She steps off and backs away, and as She moves along She becomes more and more transparent, and vanishes into the surrounding space, like a body that merges into a thick bank of luminous fog.

Lazra is deeply moved to tears, and to the point of feeling her face flame up with emotions, while Dayéd is enchanted and petrified by the veneration and the wonder of the moment. They are hesitant and undecided as to what to do, what to say and how to move, but the saint from Assisi draws up next to them to assist, and he smiles at them placidly:

-- “Come on, let’s get going. Your task here for now is over.”

The two take their leave, and Lazra timidly stoops down to kneel toward where a moment ago the celestial Mother appeared to them, but before she accomplishes the gesture she loses her senses and passes out tumbling down.

 

In the Terrestrial Paradise, at the Lethe:

She then gradually recovers her senses in an earthly atmosphere of grass, plants, trees and various vegetation, at a moment of early morning, when the sun is just rising up over the horizon, and sending out its rays in the direction of the summit of the promontory on which they find themselves, surrounded by air and open spaces. She sees Dayéd close by, standing upright while gazing at her, and smiling in expectation. She draws an urge from that to stand up and reach him, and taking an attentive look around they both spot the waters of a river, which runs quietly from east toward west. They make for that, slowly and hesitantly at first, not from fear, but out of reserve and discretion. In proximity of the shore they meet a feminine figure, who turns into their direction and smiling sweetly she heads toward them, with the aspect of one who already knows who they are and why they happen to be in that place. She has a serene and charming appearance, and her moves express the joy and the peace that stem from the interior fullness. She bows her head as a sign of greeting, still smiling:

-- “Welcome”, she starts out. “I am a Samaritan woman, and I was waiting for you to take you to the waters of the river.” She points at it with grace, a few steps away from where they are standing. “It is the secondary river that irrigates the place that you see. “ The woman accompanies them for a stretch and then she lets them find their own way. They get closer, at a point of the shore in the vicinity of the spring, and they realize that there are two gushes evenly flowing out of a recess in the rocks. One of them turns into the river that they just saw, while the other one continues in a direction slightly off aside. They turn toward the woman, and she reports to them:

-- “They produce different effects on the one who drinks from them. For a soul that is heading for the sky, one of them softens the memory of the sins committed in the mortal life, which have been forgiven, while the other one enhances the remembrance of the good deeds accomplished. For you now, it is planned that you drink from the one that you saw first, the Lethe, which will somewhat veil your memory of your afterlife experience. You will preserve, however, an invaluable spring within you, which will accompany you for ever.”

Dayéd and Lazra stoop down, then, and they take a delicious drink.

In approaching the Samaritan woman again, Lazra decides to try to inquire:

-- “By any chance…is the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil around here?”

The Samaritan woman turns around so as to silently indicate a place where a few trees and plants grow, at a short distance behind their shoulders. She points at one more precisely, which stands apart from the woods, of not particularly great size, in comparison with other trees rising up next to it. All three of them step nearer, and before getting there the woman slows down and stops, letting the other two approach by themselves. Lazra and Dayéd observe the branches, the foliage, the shape on the whole and the constitution of a stretch of the bark, of the wood, the colors and the shades of the leaves, the volumes of the boughs and the spaces among them, and around the trunk. They contemplate the thinning out of the branches as they rise up, the solid robustness of a few of them and the light slimness of others, they examine the signs and the characteristics of the bark that account for the life of the plant, which, however, does not have an age and is eternal, renovating itself continuously. After that, Lazra lowers her look, drawn by something lying at the foot of the tree, near the roots and all around it. It definitely looks like apples, of various dimensions and particular shapes, except that they are made of gold. Dayéd and Lazra exchange an involuntary rapid glance, and then they turn toward the gentle Samaritan woman:

-- “Thank you…”, the girl whispers, afraid that she might not be heard. At the same time she puts her hands up to her chest and she takes a bow. Dayéd, also, joins his hands in front of him and tilts his head downward with his eyes closed, in greeting. The woman smiles bowing her head in turn, radiating peace and reassurance. Afterwards, the two visitors take their leave, although they don’t really know as yet where to proceed, or how.    

 

In Cocytus:

They draw closer to the border of the upland plain, beyond which they glimpse at a bright and limpid sky, in order to discern which way to move on or how to get off, and suddenly they feel hauled by an irresistible force, invisible and unknown, which transports them over the edge, suspended in the void, in an atmosphere which from morning becomes dazzling brilliant in an instant, making the view beneath their feet disappear, to then turn as suddenly into thick, pitch-black darkness. In a few immeasurable moments, the environment gains definition again, as a dark, gloomy, freezing location, characterized in its traits by nightly, colorless shadows and lights, with icy expanses, steep faces of rock, and a height that fades out soon into a sinister, blind, overwhelming darkness. They find themselves standing with their feet on what appears as the icy surfaces of a river or a lake, which probably turned solid on account of the air that is relentlessly blowing like a freezing, deadly breeze, foul and dense with fetid vapors and dismal fumes. The contrast is such between this underground, hellish place, and the upland of eternal spring, of sweet and gentle air from which they come, that it cannot be put into words, and the spirits of Dayéd and Lazra become aware of it gradually, like in discerning and making out presences in the dark, after just leaving a luminous environment. They look around with terror and trepidation, motionless in the exact spot where they’ve been brought to be, making movements and gestures to try to shield themselves from the ice-cold air rushing over them. They perceive little of the surroundings, because the sight peters out quickly within short depths, and Lazra decides to step forward, to take a wider look at the environment.

All of a sudden, they hear in the semi-darkness:

-- “What are they doing standing on Cocytus, like that?...and that one seems alive…”

Lazra and Dayéd gape around them with anguish and desperation, and they catch sight of damned souls, grieving and lamenting, immersed in the ice everywhere, some straight, some lying down, with their back or their front side up, some with their whole bodies except for the face, and some with the whole head outside. The girl lets out a shriek of distress, stifled into a groan, which is followed by a few sobs of poignant crying, which she manages to hold back by turning to look at Dayéd. They don’t try to realize anymore, nor to comprehend, it is their spirit that moves them, making choices and decisions by instinct, before they become fully aware of them.

In answer to that first one, they hear a slow and hoarse rattle, mumbled by someone who tried but could not utter intelligible sounds. 

-- “Get…out of here!...”, one might hear more distinctly now in another lament coming from the iced surface.

Lazra, then, musters up her energy and reacts by standing up in front of Dayéd and, staring at him with a concentrated and grave expression, she urges him:

-- “Let’s remember well now the condition to which we are supposed to go through these places, alright?”

Dayéd assumes a conscious and serious attitude, and he answers her nodding his head in confirmation. Among banks of vapour which hover over the vast icy expanse, they start off without heeding any other utterances about their presence. 

 

A sudden encounter…:

-- “It is freezing here!...”, Lazra exclaims in a low tone of voice, tightening her arms around her, and feeling her lips and her teeth gradually begin to shudder. “What is this air blowing? It feels like an unstoppable wind…”

-- “I don’t know, it comes from over there”, and he points behind their shoulders, “but I can see nothing…” In the prevailing dark and by the features of the place that they do make out, they can’t see enough to try to guess. She continues:

-- “There are damned spirits everywhere, down there…I wonder if this place ever was liquid.”

-- “As long as this air keeps on blowing I wouldn’t think so…”, he answers her.

Lazra observes with horror and grief the damned ones situated next to their feet and all around, she is shocked by the laments and the groans that she hears coming from them, and at some moments she cries in dismay. Dayéd, instead, remains more watchful about the location, and he tries to push his look through the thick air, to investigate which direction to follow.

-- “Come on,” he suggests to her, “let’s go this way.” And they proceed for a few instants in silence, Dayéd first and Lazra following right behind.

At a certain point, while they are walking along a steep face of rock, they hear a continuous drone, as a constant background. At first it is a slight vibration of the ice and of the rock, barely perceptible, but it keeps on growing more or less evenly.

-- “Can you hear it?... the noise?...”, Dayéd asks with uncertainty and hesitation, at the same time looking around apprehensively. At certain times they distinguish particular, more intense noises, as stronger impacts, which are followed by brief pauses, and then the continuous tremor resumes.

-- “Yes… and it’s not just noise, the whole place is quaking!...”, Lazra points out. The noise is turning into a din, and the vibrations become more forceful.

-- “What is it?...An earthquake?...”, she asks, with a growing sense of anguish. The entire environment is rushed through by a roar that has become deafening, and which vaguely seems to be coming from up above. “What’s going on?!?”, she screams again, in order to be heard over the rumble and the tremors.

-- “I don’t know!...” Dayéd exclaims, looking around franticly to catch a hint of what is happening. They both try to stand still, and they keep their legs slightly apart and bent at their knees and their arms ready to grab a hold of something to maintain their balance. Stones or pieces of rock break loose and tumble from the rocky slopes nearby, as on account of the quakes Lazra and Dayéd have a hard time focusing on the objects. They gaze at each other, but they stay where they are in expectation, tremendously shaken up by the continuous jolts.

Then, all of a sudden, there is a violent impact, following which both the noise and the shocks cease. At this point, as if by a conditioned reflex or a sudden intuition, they both raise their look above them, and they sight a huge boulder which comes flying over the edge of an overhanging promontory, and plummets in the void toward them.

-- “AAAhhh!!!!”, Lazra yells out in despair with all her breath, while both she and Dayéd plunge together with a spurt toward the base of the face of rock, tumbling down on the ground. The boulder is dodged barely in time: it hits the icy floor where they were standing a moment before, with a tremendous crash, it rolls over for a certain distance yet, and it finally comes to a stop.

 

… with Sisyphus:

Lazra and Dayéd are lying on the ground, startled and even in disbelief of what has just taken place. They glance at each other in silence, with a look making sure of each other’s conditions, and then they turn toward the stone, which is now halting on its track. They stand back up, and with a very hesitating step they move towards it. Next, they hear other noises:

-- “Ooohhh…Ooooohh…Huuuhh…HuuEeehh…”

They turn around and they catch sight of someone who is climbing down the same promontory, making efforts along a steep and rough descent. The desperate and bitter groans that he lets out accompany each step or leap that he takes. At first he is not aware or doesn’t care about Dayéd and Lazra, and in this manner he reaches the earthy plain at the foot of the face of rock, next to the expanse of ice which begins at a short distance from there. Lazra and Dayéd’s attention, for the time being, has been drawn away from the damned spirits stuck in the frozen and hard transparencies.

-- “Where did it go?”, the fellow asks as soon as he sees them. As a matter of fact, the boulder hit the rocky wall on the opposite side, and it has stopped in a position partially concealed by a projection of earth and rock, and is therefore not immediately in sight. Dayéd and Lazra are speechless from the bewilderment, her mouth is ajar and her eyes are wide open, and they both step back and aside somewhat in order to let him by.

-- “Did you see a big stone rolling off of there and passing by here?...”, that fellow asks again, indicating the summit of the rocky face from which it plunged down. They stare at each other intimidated, without saying anything. As the guy gets closer and he looks at them longer, he also stares at them with more attention and surprise, at the girl in particular. For a few moments he observes her in silence, her face and her figure, without any scruples about being indiscreet. So she gets herself together and speaks up:

-- “It went that way…”, and she spreads out an arm in the direction of the huge rock, a few steps ahead, partly visible. The newcomer, however, has noticed by now the exceptional presence and he’s gotten curious about it.

-- “Where do you come from? Who are you, since you’re still alive? How can you be here with your body? It’s not really as if I care, it is my boulder I need to think about, but there are some who may hold a grudge. Once a couple of Greek fellows came over here in hell still alive with the intention of kidnapping the goddess that was reigning in this place at the time. Now neither she nor her spouse are here anymore, ever since the whole universe shook up so much that a fair amount of this dark world was crumpled, but back then those two had showed up just for her. It was hard to believe. They couldn’t make it, though, and they had to stay in here, too. Only one of them, after a period of time and with the help from Hercules, finally was able to go back to the mortal world.”

-- “She came in here”, Dayéd then interjects, indicating the girl with a look, “so that I could get back to the bodily life, for a period of time. Now we are trying to find a way out, in the same direction that we came. We don’t care about anything else.” They remain silent for a while.

-- “Who are you?”, Lazra then asks him, with sincere curiosity.

-- “My name is Sisyphus”, the damned spirit begins again. “In the mortal life I was king of Corinth in Greece, a country of the planet Earth. I was a cunning deceiver, and one time I spied on Zeus, thinking that he would never find out about that. Instead, in order to take revenge, he sent Thànatos, which is Death, to get me, so that she would drag me into this world of the dead, and that is so I would die. With a trick though, I reduced her to the shackles she wanted to use on me, so that subsequently nobody died in the world anymore. Some men were even cheerful about that, and they attributed several honors to me, but, having produced a perversion of the natural order of things, I drew on me the anger and the resentment of the false gods in which I believed. Consequently, Death was liberated, but before I departed to come to hell, and therefore I died, I recommended my wife not to bury my body, so that I would have an excuse to get back to the mortal world. As a matter of fact, the ruler of hell of that time, Proserpina, granted me three days’ time in order to make up for that lack, but once I got back to the life of the earthly world, I did not provide for my burial at all, and I tried to bypass the deadline. As a punishment, therefore, now I find myself having to push that rock, which you just saw, up along a slope, from which though, before getting to the top, it unfailingly rolls back down, so that I must start over again. I, Sisyphus, know that in the mortal world men and women sometimes use the expression ‘Sisyphus’ labor’ to mean an eternal, continuous effort with no purpose nor effect, and it has become a figure of speech to the point that very few suspect that I really am in this place, struggling with a boulder.”

Afterwards, he takes a pause and Dayéd and Lazra keep on staring at him in silence.

-- “I’ve got to recover the rock…”, Sisyphus concludes, and with an expression on his face of one who’s already thinking of what to do next, he sets off in that direction.

The girl is trembling and disoriented, undoubtedly still shocked from the fall of the boulder, and she softly lowers her head, while Sisyphus walks on past her without seeing her, and she silently follows him with her stare, turning her head with brief and hesitant jerks.

Subsequently, Dayéd and she exchange a glance, and with a fearful and tentative attitude they proceed further.

 

The well of the Giants:

In moving along, they get to take a look at another part of the icy expanse of Cocytus, in which they distinguish other damned spirits immersed under the surface and with either their faces, or their heads, or with a part of their bodies sticking out, although their faces are in any case covered with ice over the eyes. A few of them groan at their passage, but they say nothing that the two can understand, and they go on by with caution. As they walk past, someone else lets out laments or wheezes, and slightly rouses towards them with painful effort, although for the most part hampered by the ice that shrouds them, and at a certain point Lazra and Dayéd get to hear something more distinctly:  

-- “…stop…come over……”, utters a wheezing and sore voice. “Come here!...”, it whispers this last time with a more firm and desperate tone.

Nevertheless, the two visitors proceed further, with all the possible vigilance and caution, without wanting to stop, not turn around.

All of a sudden, they catch sight of something tall and daunting that they are approaching, even though, on account of the general darkness of the place, most of all at a certain height, and the vapors and the fumes filling up the atmosphere in banks, they cannot make out right away what it is about. They perceive, however, not one but several presences, that move slowly and awkwardly.

-- “What is it? What are they?”, Lazra inquires with a tone which denotes increasing fear and desperation.

-- “They move…”, Dayéd points out, and he looks around quickly and attentively to decide what to do. “It seems that the only direction that we can go is right that way, let’s see…”, and off they go, with hesitation and dismay, toward the huge presences standing in front of them, which become more and more recognizable.

-- “Oh, my God!”, Lazra exclaims, now discerning gigantic beings, in the human form, although with stockier and more coarse proportions of the limbs in relation to the overall dimensions. 

-- “They are giants!,,,”, Dayéd comments in a low voice and in disbelief. The two of them exchange a glance, with which they urge each other along, and they proceed, trying to pick out a route that passes the least possible in proximity of the new company. 

In approaching further, they see that the giants stand up in the air to a height where their heads almost vanish into the darkness above, and they appear to them as moving hills, with a slowness and a clumsiness similar to those of cows or oxen. In the obscure and thick air, Lazra and Dayéd can’t quite make out how many of them there are, since in the depth of the view their features soon diminish in definition. They stand sunken up to their waist inside a well, a large opening in the hellish ground of which Dayéd and Lazra cannot make out the depth, and they are lined up along an edge within the cavity, a certain distance below the surface. One of them, in particular, is remarkably constrained in an unnatural position, tied up in heavy chains that wrap him closely. All the giants, moreover, wear around their necks a horn, which occupies a notable position in front of their huge chest.

Lazra and Dayéd move along with brief and silent steps, at some moments when the giants seem to be immobile and at rest. One of them, however, spots the newcomers, and so does another next to him, and in turning around to re-position themselves, they scrape along the inside walls of the well, and the friction is felt as a tremor in the whole environment, so much that it reminds the two visitors of the recent moments just gone by. The giant that saw them first, then, grabs the horn hanging from his neck, puts it in his mouth and gives it a forceful blow, which runs with strong vibrations through Lazra’s body. Once the noise is finished, both she and Dayéd look at each other in a daze, undecided as to what to think, and how to get on. Then, the giant which is tied up in chains, with his right arm fastened across his chest, and his left one held behind his back, addresses them:       

-- “My name is Ephialtes, can you hear me?...Can you hear me?”, Dayéd and Lazra do not answer. The giant is immobilized in a position for the most part turned toward the opposite side with reference to the newcomers, so he cannot see them except out of the corner of his eye when he turns his head sideways. “The one who just played the horn is my brother Otus, and we both were killed by Apollo, for having tried to climb the mountains up to the sky. Can you hear me?” Again, they don’t respond, although they remain immobile and attentive. “We put the mount Ossa on top of Olympus, and mount Pelion on top of that one. We started climbing, with our strength of young men, but we did not go too far…”

Another giant that the two visitors haven’t spotted yet on account of the visibility and of the bent-over position, scarcely in sight, that he’s kept until now, is standing up tall in the point where he’s located, a little farther away than Ephialtes. It is with great dismay that Lazra and Dayéd discern, through the thick atmosphere, that the massive being spits fire out of his mouth, has enormous wings covered with snaky scales, and instead of fingers in his hands he has serpents, with which he grabs in turn his own horn, and putting it in his mouth he blows in it a long deafening wail.

-- “That one is Typhon”, Ephialtes continues when the terrible noise finally ceases. “The legend has it that it is him, with these motions of his, that stirs up an island on the Earth, by the name of Sicily.”

Dayéd and Lazra would very much like to leave, but they’re both afraid that in turning around and walking away they might be seen and attract the attention.    

 

Tityus:

-- “And then those are the Titans”, the giant Ephialtes adds, with his head slightly tilted, as if he were now reflecting by himself, in a loud voice. Lazra and Dayéd take a look around, but they don’t understand who he is talking about.

-- “And there’s Tityus, closer this way”, and he indicates with a nod of his head in front of him, on the opposite side from the two visitors, who catch sight further ahead of a giant sprawled with his back against the curve edge of the well, and immobilized with his arms spread out and tilted upward from his head, held down to the ground. “Son of Zeus and Electra”, Ephialtes carries on, “he was killed by Apollo and Artemis’ arrows for trying to rape Leto. For this reason he has been tied down here to this rock, and in the daytime a winged creature gnaws at his liver, which grows back again at night.”

After the silence of a few instants, Dayéd and Lazra hear some noises, as if from fluttering, periodic and regular, which on account of a certain echoing rumble seem to be coming from the well. The two freeze in anxious expectation, as the noises become louder and louder, they get closer and they are more clearly perceived as the flapping of wings. After a few moments they glimpse, in the spaces between a giant and another, a huge eagle that rises up slowly from the edge of the opening. It emerges sideways with reference to them, and it is of the same proportions as the giants, in relation to men and the gaiasis, it has nervate and scaled wings, like those of a dragon or a bat, and long paws, as if it were, besides a bird, also a half terrestrial animal. It hovers heavily above the heads of the giants, with a grave movement of the wings that has the regularity of a placid heartbeat. Lazra and Dayéd are horrified and speechless, and they watch it in disbelief without breathing a word nor attempting the littlest gesture, as gusts of freezing air, roused by the flapping of the wings, rush over their faces and figures. The winged creature slowly soars over Tityus, and here it stays hovering in balance, as the giant on the ground observes it with his eyes half-closed, before closing them altogether in resignation. The eagle raises its head and stares at the newcomers for a moment, as if it were aware of the novelty and of the exceptional situation. It gazes at them, and they’re feeling awfully exposed and examined, while the creature hovers in the air. It relentlessly flaps its wings, and then gets back down to business, lowers its head toward the prey, and darts swooping down. Tityus groans, stifling a scream. Lazra withdraws her look, incredulous and distressed. She and Dayéd, even without standing close to the scene, can hear the operations of the beak of the animal. They take advantage of the moment, then, to back off in horror, and they walk away, without adding anything.

 

In backing away, Lazra is taken by a physical uneasiness due to what she just saw, and intermittent sighs rouse up from her chest, so she hangs her head down and gives in to a burst of tears, while Dayéd struggles to draw deep relaxing breaths. They slow down, then, hesitating for a while, they look around in order to find their bearings and get oriented, without observing or spotting anything in particular, and they search for a way out of that place. They pierce the thick air as far as their eyes can see, with their heads hung downward and a cautious, fearful attitude. They hear noises, at a short distance from where they stand, of quick and hasty gestures, as if of someone who’s running and moving frantically, and they perceive beastly grunts, from exertion and ferocity. In the dark density of the atmosphere they can barely make out shadows, that rapidly disappear. Dayéd and Lazra exchange a questioning look:

-- “What was that?”, she asks.

-- “I hardly saw anything…”, answers the spirit of the statue.

Afterwards they distinguish, in a soft dispersion of the atmosphere a little further ahead, a few deformed damned spirits, in whom a part of the figure is unnaturally swollen and out of proportion with the other, which is dehydrated and withered. Other motionless beings, instead, give off hot vapour and maybe smoke. In particular two of those, a deformed and an overheated one, are addressing each other scornfully in a prolonged quarrel. Lazra and Dayéd cannot quite comprehend what they are saying, so he signals to the girl that they should move along, and they take a different direction.

 

Tantalus:

Not too far from where they are, beyond a thin cloud of fume and dust, they see a sheet of water. It is approximately a circular shape, with a largeness of about ten ample steps, and at first glance they get the feeling that it might be a distraction from the horrible spectacle of shortly before, so they head for that. They discern a tree, to their right-hand side, next to the brink of the water on the shore, that has most of the branches and foliages hanging over the little lake, with some ends almost touching the surface of it. Next, they realize that right below the lowest foliage there’s a figure, sticking his head out of the water. His head is turned upward, and he is panting somewhat, breathing through his open mouth and with his eyes closed. It seems that between one pant and another one may hear him grumble. Dayéd gives Lazra a signal with his look, and having both gotten curious they walk further along the shore to their left, getting closer to the figure on the opposite side, in front of him. The damned soul is approximately in the middle of the sheet of water, so he is not a long way from them. From the bough dangling a short distance above his head tender pears, mature apples, figs and pomegranates are hanging, which give off a fresh and sweet odor. In an attempt made by reflex and instinct, rather than with real confidence and effort, he raises his mouth, pulling his face upward, in order to bite into the swollen and abundant fruits. In perfect synchronism, the boughs withdraw back with lightness, dodging his bite. As he goes back to rest, the branches as well take their initial position again. He tries once more, this time with a little more exertion. The same result follows. With one last sob of desperation, he tries again, although he seems to know well enough that he will never succeed in reaching those fruits. He groans and lets go, as a matter of fact, even before he completes the vain attempt. After which, he hesitates for a moment, resting and catching his breath, and then he tries hanging his head downward, pressing his chin against his chest, to get a drink of the water from the lake. In the operation his tongue sticks out through his lips, but the water retires, and it all piles up around the sides of the pool. He then draws his head up again, groaning and crying, and letting out continuous wails, of various tone and intensity. Lazra feels a contraction of pain within her, and she steps near the spirit of Dayéd, as if to communicate that to him, but without opening her mouth. Dayéd addresses her a glance of understanding. Next, the spirit immersed in the lake spots them, and he acknowledges with a curious look the particular situation regarding the girl.

-- “It looks to me like you will be going back to the mortals…”, he comments in his discomfort toward Lazra. “Imagine that I used to say, when I was living, as also others I had known, that I preferred hell to heaven, because I was claiming, almost jokingly, that one could have more fun down here. Well, I really did come down to the dark world, but, as you might have imagined, I have a pretty different idea of it now”. Lazra and Dayéd give each other a look, and he resumes:

-- “My name used to be Tantalus, king of Sipylus, in Phrygia, on the planet Earth. In the mortal life, once I served my son Pelops as a dish at the table of the gods, who became aware of that, though, and they did not have him. After that, I stole the nectar and ambrosia from their refectory and I gave them to my friends, and for such reasons I was damned to this punishment, of which you just watched a sample.” Dayéd and Lazra instinctively exchange glances again.

-- “And this is all for me, you know…”, the damned soul continues. “In this hellish place there are different kinds of sins and of consequent damnations, which are distributed and assigned among infinite numbers of damned spirits that are destined here. For the most part, the same punishment is due by fate to the souls that committed in their life the same type of sin. There exist, however, also particular cases of individual punishments, which are a distinction from the general arrangements. There isn’t a precise and only motive for these differentiations, it is simply due to events and circumstances that take place by will of the divine fate, according to which such situations are established. Sisyphus, who now and again makes himself heard by one who is around when his boulder rolls downhill, is an example of that. As a matter of fact, even though he is fated with a damnation similar to that of other damned souls, who go around in circles, though, and not uphill, his particular situation is unique. The giants represent another one, although they are nevertheless a non-numerous group. And what you have in front of yourselves is another case. A short distance from here, moreover, there is the soul of someone who was quite rich in his life, and who was assigned a punishment similar to mine, for taking delights in pasturing lavish tables, denying a poor man by the name of Lazarus, longing to feed on the crumbs left over from his table, the bare minimum to survive. Maybe you have heard of that, or you might have read about it in the Scriptures. The spirit of Lazarus, instead, is in quite different environments, on high.” 

A few moments of silence follow, in which Lazra and Dayéd have nothing to reply. It is then Sisyphus again, who raises his head toward them, as if after a sudden idea which popped to his mind.

-- “Wouldn’t you by any chance want to lower for me one of the branches that are hanging right here over my head? This way I could reach out and bite into the fruits…can you see them?” He asks this with an affectedly pleading tone of voice, almost as if he wanted to resort to hypocrisy where the gloom of his spirit wouldn’t have allowed for support to his intentions. He addresses Lazra in particular, in whom he thought he noticed some emotional reaction a little while ago. She instinctively sets out to make herself available, although in the space of a moment, reflecting about it, she is not sure of what is good and right to do. She gives Dayéd a look, but then she slowly proceeds in walking around the sheet of water and approaching the tree. She is very doubtful in her soul, and she doesn’t properly feel that interior serene and joyful fullness, that she has always felt in her life, each time that she has tried to help or assist somebody. She doesn’t know very well whether this way she would become accomplice of something illicit, or else attempting to be useful toward the next one still would be an act of mercy. She turns toward Dayéd again with a questioning look, before reaching the other side. Once she gets there, though, by instinct and almost without thinking, she leans over somewhat, and she reaches out to grab the bough, which, jutting from the trunk, ends up dangling over Tantalus’ head. She tries to stir it up, at first faintly with a few fingers, and then grasping it more firmly and with more force. The branch moves and shakes a little, but only in its middle part, that is the stretch between the trunk and its loose end. This latter end, weighed down with fruits and suspended a short distance from Tantalus’ mouth, stays immobile and fixed, as does the trunk on the shore. Lazra tries to exert more strength in the movement, but although some foliage might shake, and a few twigs might quiver, the far end over the lake remains steadily motionless in the thick air. It is a supernatural phenomenon, Lazra ponders, there is no recognizable reason for the branch not to be able to move, and still there’s no way of budging it. She lets out a moan of discomfort, most of all as an emotional reaction to a situation she cannot comprehend much, and in which she is uncertain. She glances inquiringly over at the spirit of Dayéd standing on the other side of the lake. He looks back at her with participation, but without having anything in particular to suggest. Afterwards, she draws back, moves off and walks away. She doesn’t go back to where she was before, it is instead Dayéd who reaches her halfway over, still on the shore of the pond. Lazra then addresses the damned spirit:

-- “I tried…but the bough stays still. I am sorry, but it seems that the only one who is able to move those fruits is yourself.” 

Tantalus slightly turns his head in her direction, not completely, and without looking at her.

Dayéd and Lazra leave. 

 

At the Phlegeton:

Subsequently, they arrive at the shores of a river, which appears to them as consisting in a semi-viscose red liquid, with prevailing dark shades to it due to the depth of its bed, and in a continuous slow boil. They sight a number of damned souls immersed in the river, that rise to the surface and then they plunge again, and turn over, and they are transported and churned according to the stir of the liquid. As soon as one of them dares stay above the surface for longer than the flow would force them to, he or she are immediately aimed at with precise throws of arrows by animal-like beings, half man, in the upper part of their bodies, and half horses, in the lower part, by the name of centaurs. They happen to be galloping along the banks of the river with the specific purpose of guarding, and making sure that the damned souls stay immersed. Dayéd and Lazra watch the scene for a while, with horror and in silence. Next, Dayéd notices something on the other side, and giving the girl a look, he observes:

-- “Those over there ought to be the walls of Dis, from inside…”, and he indicates them with his look ahead of him. Lazra makes a sign of recognition with her head, and he goes on:

-- “We should go that way, get out through those gates, and head back on the same path that we came on our way over.”

-- “There’s still some crowding around, over there…”, Lazra points out, indicating with a gesture a dense number of damned spirits who are sticking around in the proximity of the gateway of the walls. At this moment they both realize that a group of centaurs not a long way from where they are, although not within voice-range, have become aware of their presence, and they are heading in their direction. A few of them linger along the way, as they spot a few damned souls in the river attempting to break above the surface, and so they draw arrows from the quivers on their backs, to throw with their bows. Three of them, instead, arrive in the vicinity of the newcomers, and one in particular gets near them, looking like a boss, or a supervisor of the bunch. From an aggressive and violent attitude that he seemed to have assumed towards them as soon as he saw them, he shifts to surprise and perplexity as he approaches and he observes the living girl. 

-- “What’s going on?”, he inquires with a raw and harsh tone. He gets there and stands in front of them, while staring at them with attention and curious persistency, most of all the girl. “What do you go looking for? Which is your place?”, and then he turns toward a companion that has stayed a few steps behind, and he gives him an ironic, understanding look. He scratches his beard under his chin, and he searches Lazra with his eyes a little more.

-- “She came here because of me”, answers Dayéd, then, “so that I could get out for a period of time, and now we would like to go across this river.”

-- “Nobody ever crosses the Phlegethon the way that you are going. If one goes anywhere, one goes that way”, and the centaur points into the opposite direction, from which Lazra and Dayéd have just come, “and there’s no way back…”

-- “We need to get through those walls on the other side, and go back the way that we came, and so leave”, the spirit of the sculpture explains himself.

The centaur observes him for an instant, taking on an expression of scorn and haughtiness, but after glancing at the girl again, he resumes speaking and answers:

-- “Well, if you really mean to go along on your crazy route back, I will carry you over to the other bank, on my back”, and he points at it with the bow that he’s holding in his hand. “Not that you have much of a choice, you sure can’t go wading across this river of blood!...”

Lazra feels a shiver of fear and uncertainty rushing through her, and she crosses her look with Dayéd’s.

-- “However”, the horse-man resumes, “I will have to carry you one at a time, not both together.”

-- “Alright”, replies Lazra nodding.  

 

First trip on top of the centaur,…:

Dayéd is therefore getting ready to mount the horseback of the centaur, who is already immersed with the lower part of his body in the boiling blood of the river. He jumps and lands on top of him, trying not to slip off, and to reach his balance.

-- “Are you all set?”, the other one asks him, half-turning the human trunk around. “Are you inside the cockpit?”

-- “Yes, I’m ready”. And off they go, while Dayéd sitting astride gives Lazra a knowing look of temporary good-bye, as she’s standing on the shore a short distance away. 

At first they remain silent, and the conductor manoeuvres in the swim with practical and experienced motions. Afterwards, Dayéd addresses him a question:

-- “Why is it that it’s necessary to make the trip in two times, since I don’t have any weight, and having us both together would have been like carrying Lazra only?”

-- “Huh? Yes…but,…it’s a question of presences: I get less confused, and the trip is safer if I carry one passenger at a time”, the centaur replies, with a tone that sounds to the other one slightly evasive and artificial. 

During the crossing, Dayéd spots some damned souls plunged in the boiling blood, and he hears their harrowing wails and stifled groans. Not a long way from where he is, he notices that one of them raises himself up out of the blood, turned in their direction, so as to take a look at the unusual scene, but he gets picked out by another centaur, standing on the shore off to the side, who takes aim, hurls an arrow with his bow, and he transfixes the damned one in his eye, making him submerge in the liquid depths.

-- “Do you make many trips across the river?”, he then inquires, trying not to mind his own dismay.

-- “No, hardly ever from shore to shore. There’s no need to. It happened when someone in particular was only passing through. I transported a saint, who is now on high, somewhere”, and he vaguely points upward with the bow that he’s holding in his hand, “and he was still alive, but whether he was with his body or only in spirit I don’t know, the fact is that taking him across was like carrying you. And then a woman who was going back to the world, like you guys are. A poet who played an instrument and sang, and it seems that he got a lot of attention, down here. I wasn’t present, but somebody still remembers that…And then a guy, still alive, together with his guide”

-- “You carried them both together?...”

-- “Huh? Yes…but, that was an exceptional man, even his guide told me that…”

After that, they proceed the crossing in silence. Once they arrive at the other bank, the passenger gets off, still silently, and the centaur turns around and sets out again in the opposite direction. 

 

…second trip:

-- “So, Miss”, he addresses Lazra, as he’s approaching the bank from which he took off before. “Are we ready?”

-- “Yes…”, she replies, although a little disoriented and uneasy about the weird smile on the face of the fellow. The centaur turns around sideways, and she puts her hands on his back in order to recognize the most comfortable position to get on top.

-- “If you need help”, he intervenes turning his trunk around and swiftly stretching out his arms toward her hips and her legs, and grasping them with enjoyment, “I can lend you a hand, with no problem!...”

Lazra, immediately alarmed and frightened, tries in turn to take a hold of the centaur’s unwanted arms and to stop them, at the same time flinching back herself.

-- “No!!”, she exclaims, almost shouting. “No, thank you! There’s no need for that! I’ll just do much better by myself, thank you.”

-- “Alright!...”, he answers, as he sneers maliciously. “My name is Nessus”, and he turns around facing ahead of him again.

The second crossing then begins.

-- “You know,” the centaur resumes after a short silence. “You remind me very much of a woman that I met when I was in my mortal life. I gave her a ride on my back, too.”

-- “Did you?”, she replies. “Good, that means you must be practiced, then.”

-- “Yes!! Ah, ah!!”, he bursts into laughter, turning around to look at her. She frowns somewhat, and she draws backwards.

-- “Well,” he resumes, “that was a trip in which I reached more distant shores…”, and he turns back around thoughtfully.

They remain silent for a few moments, after which Nessus goes back to more pleasureful thoughts:

-- “And how is it that a pretty girl like you happens to be crossing these gloomy lands on account of that ghost over there?”

-- “So that he could go back to the sensitive world. Now we are trying to get out”, Lazra answers, concealing a growing uneasiness.

-- “I wonder what this place would be like if you hadn’t passed by, huh?, he asks her with intrusiveness and arrogance, and he makes a half turn towards her again, while giggling.

-- “What it’s always been, it is, and it always will be, anyway”, the girl replies as coldly as she possibly can, although she is starting to really worry about the situation and the intentions of the centaur, frowning, raising her eyebrows and tightening her lips.

-- “Ah! Ah!!”, and he goes about turning his bust of human form yet more toward her. “Maybe you are right!”, he slides his arm past her hips and behind her back. He is very swift and stealthy in his moves, and from behind he grasps her tightening her to him, as he slows the pace down, and he changes the direction in one way first, then another one, and then simply going around in circles, and ultimately stopping altogether. Nessus struggles to pull het to his chest, putting his other arm around her neck, sticking his face forward and opening his mouth toward her with grimaces and expressions of desire. Lazra reacts with desperation, tossing her body about to snap off the grips, recoiling backwards, flinging her arms in short and quick jerks to hit out with her hands and elbows.

-- “Oh, come on!”, he comments. “Ah-Ah! What is it? Would you like to get off? Oh, calm down! Calm down!!”

Lazra is shouting and flinging herself back and forth, and she calls out:

-- “AAHH! Help! Dayéd! Ah! Erì-thong!!” She is scared and in despair, and she is running out of breath, more from fear than the physical effort. She slaps at him, she hits him on his arms, on his back, and in his face, in his head, when she gets there. However, the force of the gestures and the grip of the centaur is overwhelming, she wasn’t expecting it, and she doesn’t know how to react anymore, wheezing on top of his back in the middle of an expanse of boiling blood.

 

Confrontation with Nessus:

-- “Let her go! Damn you! Damn you!! Leave her alone!!!”, Dayéd in the meanwhile screams from the top of his lungs on the other bank, and he bends over from desperation, leaning with his arms upon his thighs, and he tosses himself about with anguish. After taking a look around in order to think of something, he darts running toward another one of the centaurs, engrossed in taking aim at a few damned souls in the boiling blood, and he yanks the bow and a few arrows out of his hands. He gets one loaded, he runs as close as he possibly can from the shore, he positions himself, takes aim with all his strength and he lets it off toward Nessus, who raises an arm and, without much of an effort, wards it off sneering.

-- “Is that all?”, the centaur replies shouting in the direction of the shore, still giggling. “I’ve seen arrows being shot in quite a different way!” And after being distracted for a moment from his passenger, he turns back toward her with an amused and malicious expression.

Dayéd tries again with another arrow, which he loads promptly. The centaur sees it coming up in advance, and he fends it off aside as the other one, with a yet more accentuated sadistic sneer. After which, he gestures toward himself with his hand, daring Dayéd to try again.

The soul of the statue makes another attempt, then, but with the same outcome. Three arrows ended up in the boiling blood, and Dayéd doesn’t have anymore at hand.

Next, he gathers himself in concentration, closing his eyes, bowing his head and leaving out the outside world. After a few instants, he raises his eyes again, and with a deep leap of Faith, he stretches out his leg, and he takes a step onto the boiling blood of the hellish river, and he walks over it as if it were hard land. He steps along, at first hesitantly and with caution, and then more confidently. He finally reaches the centaur and Lazra almost running.

-- “Get off, Lazra!”, he yells with urgency and anguish, while the girl gives him a questioning look of dismay, not knowing what to think of the liquid expanse under her feet. In the meantime she tries to hold her balance, since Nessus puts up a fight and grabs a grip of Dayéd’s arms, who in turn, although he constantly keeps in front of him the precept received to be observed through all the way out of hell, reacts snapping away from the grasp, and hitting hard at the centaur. The two of them subsequently get engaged in a hand-to-hand confrontation.  

-- “Get off of there!!”, Dayéd urges her with a more stressful tone.

At this moment, another centaur draws up near them, which was passing by, curious to take a look at what was going on. He observes the two fighters clasped with each other for a moment, after which he lets out an ironic giggle of comment about the situation.

-- “Get out of here Chiron!”, Nessus intimates to him, while gripping the adversary.

Lazra takes advantage of the occasion to jump onto the back of the centaur that’s just pulled over, even before he realizes it, as he’s all concentrated on the two fighters, so that afterwards he turns his trunk around to make sure of what is going on behind his shoulders and on his back. Dayéd, in the meantime, continues to punch at Nessus’ face and figure, by now resigned to the fact that he broke the divine precept. To tell the truth, he is infinitely more distressed about interrupting a sacred commitment, rather than not being able to get back to the mortal world again to live a life as an adult, even though this took up an importance infinitely more relevant than his individual case. He is lashing out with continuous and forceful punches, he kicks at the horse-like legs, and he is finally getting the better of the centaur, but if he were a man in flesh and blood, he’d have tears in his eyes. After making sure, then, that Lazra is out of Nessus’ reach, he also jumps on the back of the other centaur behind her, and the half-animal takes off, although he hasn’t seen his passengers well, nor has he fully understood the circumstances.

-- “Could you get to the shore right head of us, please?”, the girl asks with panting urgency from behind the conductor’s shoulders, pointing at the bank in front of them. The fellow heads for that, nodding, without answering anything in return.

-- “Quickly, please, quickly!...”, Dayéd recommends from behind.

-- “I am sorry”, Chiron replies, “but my knee hurts, I can’t go any faster than this with a load on my back…”

They soon arrive at the shore without any more accidents, and the two passengers get off and with a glance they take leave of the centaur.

 

The threshold of Dis:

Lazra and Dayéd take an examining glance at each other, reflecting upon what has just taken place. Dayéd has a mortified and guilty expression, and he has to exert himself to raise his head and look at her, for brief moments. Lazra is touched and emotionally stirred. She has tears in her eyes, her lips are trembling, although she doesn’t despair as yet of the possibility that the event might not have consequences.

Dayéd, then, whispers to her:  

-- “Let’s go…”, almost fearing to be heard, and he gestures toward the gateway of Dis, in order to get out.

They arrive there, and despite the crowd of damned spirits hanging around the gates, they look for a way through. The damned, who anyhow don’t have any physicality in relation to Lazra, step back in the first place, in the general perplexity, and they open up a sufficient passage among them. Lazra is walking in front and, suddenly heartened and strengthened by the apparent easy achievement, she reaches the threshold: she turns around toward Dayéd, and she realizes that he is now being surrounded and held back by the very spirits that a moment ago let her go through.

-- “No!!!”, she exclaims with sudden grief.

There isn’t any corporeality, the damned ones could not touch Lazra, nor she could hit them, nevertheless they grab the soul of the statue, and they slowly but relentlessly draw him back, towards the interior. Lazra dashes in his direction, screaming in an outburst of desperation and grief, she goes back on her track, she tries to grab hold of his arms, and for three times she reaches out to hug him and pull him to herself, and for three times, as vapour, he vanishes in her arms. Then Dayéd shouts to her:  

-- “We can’t do anything about this, neither one of us, and we had it coming, it is right this way. You go, please, cross the swamp again on Phlegyas’ craft, and head for the exit as quickly as you can. Unfortunately, it just turned out this way…”

 

Lazra walks out…:

Lazra, in tears and hesitant, proceeds towards the gates, turning around continuously, among the harsh expressions, the wretched derisions, the vulgar sexual insinuations, or the manifestations of scorn that her attempt to resist has aroused, and which follow, on the part of the damned souls, after the first moments of bewilderment and surprise in relation to the stranger. Someone show off improvised provoking gestures, in order to impart fear and subjection, others assume perverted facial expressions of challenge and sneer. Lazra, however, terrified and baffled, slowly proceeds. The spirits crowd around her, to such a point that she could touch some faces, some limbs, if they were corporeal and tangible. Despite the apparent scene, in which Lazra could physically walk through, without any contacts or consequences, the same cannot certainly be said about the spiritual and emotional conditions. Such are the insults, the attacks, and the manners in which they are put forth, that she actually passes the gates of the walls profoundly troubled and upset, with sobs and tears of humiliation and offense. Even though rather than all these present conditions, Lazra is torn inside much more about the idea of leaving behind the soul for whom she came here in the first  place, the motive itself of her afterlife mission.

She walks past the threshold of the walls of Dis, to head into the opposite direction to that of the first time, and go back on the path that they came. She treads on the sand outside, with her head down and pressed against her chest, her eyes squeezed closed, which she opens at times to make sure of the place and the direction, with her arms crossed and tight over her belly, her shoulders clenched together and raised up to her neck. She feels, however, extremely doubtful and uncertain.     

 

…towards the spirit of Erì-thong:

At a certain point, she raises her look in front of her, and she spots the spirit of Erì-thong, standing near-by on the shore ahead, as he is waiting for her. A few steps away from him is the craft on which he arrived, and Phlegyas on board is positioning his oar. The wise hermit is looking at the girl with a discreet hint of a smile, and infinite sweetness and mercy flow out through him toward her. Lazra recovers, then, a little vigor and presence of spirit, and she walks on in his direction.

Erì-thong addresses her first:

-- “It is my duty again to conduct you on your return. I was waiting for you on purpose.”

A moment of silence follows, in which the two observe each other, and the wise man notices her hesitation. Next, he continues:

-- “I have no words to say to you about Dayéd, I just hope that you can recover some courage. There was nothing else that anyone could have done, and so there are no reasons for remorse nor regrets.”

Lazra is speechless, hearing Erì-thong utter those things arouses in her soul despair and resoluteness at the same time. She feels more precisely what she was already realizing a short time ago, but it was still indistinct and unclear to her. She tries to express this to her friend:

-- “I…don’t know whether, I don’t think I want to, or I can.. leave like this…” She herself is trying to clear up her feelings about the situation.

The wise man gets on board the boat, with calm and well-measured moves, and he turns around to make the same act easier for her.

-- “The task assigned to me implies that I accompany you on your way back out of the afterlife world, in the direction that we came in, and then to set off with no hesitation to where I am supposed to be. If for any reasons you should choose to do otherwise, it is not planned that I may help you.”

Lazra puts her hand out toward him, automatically and absent-mindedly, and follows him on board. After a moment, as if realizing where she is and what she is doing, she tries to explain herself better:

-- “I can’t come along like this…”, and looking with a pleading devotion at her companion and guide she softly shakes her head.

-- “In any case”, he suggests, “you may still find the way back just by yourself, proceeding the opposite direction to that of the first time, but I’d like to remind you that there’s only a handful of minutes left before the three days’ period available for staying in the world of the souls runs out, and once the time is up, there is no way back anymore. Therefore, staying here now, almost certainly means for you to give up on any hope to get out.” 

Lazra turns toward the entrance of Dis, direction that she should follow in order to attempt to see the soul of Dayéd again. She tilts her head downward, she takes a look at her watch, and then at Erì-thong again. The wise man understands what is going on in her spirit, and he doesn’t try in any ways either to discourage her, nor to urge her, instead he just watches her interior conflicts. Afterwards, she tries to account for her attitude:

-- “Maybe it will be good for nothing at all…but I would like to see whether there’s something I can do, or what happens next. I’m sorry…Thank you!” She looks Erì-thong in the eye, as if to implore understanding. He responds to her with a look of love and mercy. They both hint at a smile, him with an air of celestial pity, her with a shiver of fear. Subsequently, Lazra steps off the skiff, and she gazes around with caution and incertitude.

 

Lazra tries to get back in:

Without turning around anymore toward Erì-thong and the boat, Lazra moves forward with uncertain and discomforted step onto the dry shore. Over there, some spirits crowding around the entrance to the city, notice that she is coming back, they turn toward her and with deformed grimaces and perverted expressions they communicate their disappointment and their contempt in seeing her approaching again.

-- “Get out of here!!!”

-- “Shame on you!! Shame on you!!!”

-- “Get away! Scumbag!”

And a lot more, actually, which it would be best to leave out of the text, though.

Lazra tries to gather herself together and face the situation in the most rational and convenient possible way, all the more since she just explicitly gave up on leaving the place, so whatever happens now, she surely can’t expect anything other than to try and deal with what is around her. Through the gateway of the walls she’ll have to pass, if she has the intention of trying to get in touch with Dayéd’s soul again, and therefore she’ll have to address herself that way. And off she goes.

A few damned spirits walk up to her, and they disorderly assemble around her, proceeding then alongside, so that she soon becomes, in spite of herself, the center of the attention of that gathering.

Someone screams insults into her ears, with terrifying aspect and expressions.

Another one aims to intimidate her, standing right in front of her, walking backwards and with his hands touching his lower parts, in front and in the back. 

Someone else threatens her in her ears, in a loud voice from behind.

As she walks forward, the obscenities increase more and more, and the screams into her ears become deafening. She sees foul figures pressing in on her from all sides up to her face. She remembers that she doesn’t have to fear any physical contacts, but she has no idea what to expect or how to resolve. The horror of their expressions and the manifestations of scorn intimidate and dismay her inside, although she still can move, and therefore head for the gates. She maintains full bodily freedom, nevertheless her liberty of choice and action, and her very sensory perceptions, are determined and influenced by her spiritual conditions. Without fully realizing it, she gets dejected and she slows down to a stop of her progression, defenceless and unable to go on. She gradually begins withdrawing to one side where the souls surrounding her are less numerous, and she retires a little at a time, actually, as an instinctive reaction to the violent expressions and gestures addressed to her. And she finally backs off running in the direction that she just came, with sobs and anguished bursts of sighs. She stops when she’s alone and she cries by herself, in a mixture of desperation and rage, as she thinks about her situation again, what she has stayed there for, and what she can rely on. She has no idea even where to turn her look, besides where she sees hatred, disdain and damnation. She also considers death, and she feels that it won’t be disagreeable, when her time arrives, so that afterwards she will be assigned the condition that is due to her, and which she will have deserved. Except that, before then, she would like to do what she has to, and for which she decided to remain in that place.

With a sudden gesture, she then thrusts her arms downward, clenching her shoulders, to shake off the resignation and doubts. She needs to get herself together and try again, she is pretty sure of that, although she doesn’t know how yet. So she sets off in the same direction. She says to herself that, knowing the nature of those spirits, if she closed her eyes and shut her ears she should be able to get through the gateway of the wall, since they can’t touch her, let alone get a hold of her. She takes up speed, thinking that the faster she will try to go, the less she will be exposed to their ranting. She also begins to take a few running steps, tentatively and irregularly, and in getting closer again she lowers her head, squeezes her eyes and clenches her teeth, tensing her whole face, as in the mortal world she would have done in rushing through a rainstorm.

Such are the coarse and vulgar yells and racket, even the sounds produced are so piercing and offensive, and the expressions and the aspects are so inhuman and terrifying, that although she turns her face first to one side and then to the other, she’s holding her breath and she squeezes her eyes to the point that she doesn’t see anymore where she’s advancing, she bursts, however, into a groan of discomfort and desperation, she stops in the hail of insults and humiliations, she withdraws aside, and she backs away. As she is alone again off to one side, she gives vent to an outburst of moaning and sighing, and she tries to recover her breath.

She draws long and ample lungfuls of air, both from having held her breath, and from the state of agitation in which she finds herself. She feels shivers running through her body, and she gets tense fits of coughing that make her contract and bend over. She keeps slowly moving around, at first walking on forth, and then turning back and going around in circles. She catches her breath, and she recovers the strengths that are with her. Without stopping any longer, she instinctively decides to try again, not having any choices.

She starts off with the short and quick steps of a hasty run, tightening her arms firmly against her belly, and pressing her head down between her shoulders. As she moves on, she lets out prolonged crying moans, which make her grimace her face and clench her teeth. She clasps and gathers herself together, tossing her crossed arms and body to the left and to the right, she also raises her voice to herself, hoping she will manage to cover and not hear the expressions and noises of the damned souls. To no good use, however, because it’s as if she could see them and hear them in her soul, even though she is keeping her eyes closed, and she herself is now screaming. At a certain point, she feels as if she is almost hitting against an intangible barrier of hatred and despise, of insults and abuses, which stops her and pushes her back, inevitably and relentlessly. She returns to the bank of the swamp again.

Here, by now resigned and disheartened, she looks out over the expanse of muddy marsh, in order to let her sight space out into wider and ampler extensions. However, she spots two damned spirits that are staggering out of the muck in which they were immersed and, with awkward and sluggish movements, are headed into her direction, stretching their arms out and bellowing. She turns to her right-hand side to move off, but she sights three other spirits that are coming on toward her, as one of them grits his teeth, and the other one giggles. She switches direction again, and she dashes to the left, to try to find some cover.     

 

The Erinyes and Medusa:

Again, the Erinyes appear flying in the dense and uneven air, slowly approaching and observing the situation:

-- “Oh, look who’s here! In a way, I was expecting and waiting for the little snotty fairy to come along through here again!”, one of the three sisters comments to the others, articulating her mouth slowly and ostentatiously, in pronouncing every word. They all three have a savage and threatening aspect, and as soon as Lazra catches sight of them, she runs off promptly, and she goes about crouching down and seeking shelter.

-- “Hi! Hi! He! Ha!! Ha!!!”, another one of them laughs loudly, amused to see what effect is caused by their presence.

Not that Lazra manages to notice effective shelters at hand, and she runs behind the shoulders of some damned spirits of the place, who, among other things, are all but favourable and helpful to her, and the Erinyes themselves giggle and sneer:

-- “It surely won’t be incorporeal spirits that will cover you, darling! Don’t worry, though, because you sure can touch us instead!”, Tisiphone remarks to her, slowly moving forward ahead of the others. All three of them, however, are splitting up, from being close together as they first came along, and they arrange themselves so as to draw nearer from different directions, while Lazra is frantic, and looking around with terror to think up what to do.

Now, the gorgon Medusa also advances in sight from behind the sisters, soaring in the air herself, with live and wiggling snakes as her head of hair and, as the Erinyes, with a few also wrapped around her body, which have most likely derived from her head. Both she and the three sisters are of corporeal size and proportions similar to those of the terrestrials or the gaiasis, and Medusa is carried along by the spirit of a filthy animal, with wings and scales, a sort of tailed dragon approximately as big as half her own figure, and uttering horrifying noises and expressions.

-- “Insolent and simpering young woman!”, the gorgon breaks out with a hoarse and cavernous voice, “now you will learn to venture through these dark places, to go picking up cute young men, as if the ones that are by nature still living in the earthly world weren’t already enough for you!” 

The gorgon is moving forward, she pulls up alongside the Erinyes, and she slowly passes ahead. Tisiphone replies:

-- “She wanted to turn a statue of such pretty looks into a body of flesh and blood for her own delights, the hottie-one”.

-- “Yes”, Medusa resumes. “Just like Pygmalion with his ivory girlie, but Venus is not here to fulfil your wishes, darling, and I can see to it, instead, that your cheek is fairly rewarded by turning you into stone!! I wonder if the two of you might be happy all the same together, huh?” In uttering these words, a menacing twinkle lights up for a moment in her glassy eyes.

-- “Come on out and show your face, where are you running off to hide yourself, you snot?”, Megaera adds in turn.

Lazra runs and flees, first in a direction, then in another, always improvising in terror, and in the indecision of what might possibly be more opportune for her among the gorgon, the Erinyes, and the spirits from Dis themselves, who have turned against her at the same time. She keeps clear in mind that first thing she needs to avoid crossing her look with Medusa’s, or else she will turn right away into stone, so with her head mainly turned down toward the sand of the hellish bank, she searches for cover and a way out. While Medusa is moving along in order to change her angulation and therefore be able to look her in the eye, and the Erinyes let out wild yells and sometimes deafening hollers, and the damned spirits are attempting to push her along and reduce her to no refuge, Lazra finds herself having to choose between heading back to the gates of Dis and seeking cover inside the city, or setting out toward the foul muddy liquid of the Styx swamp. She finally opts for the latter alternative.     

 

In the swamp:

Lazra rushes breathlessly toward the shore and, after a moment’s hesitation, she steps forth into the liquid of uneven consistency and density. It evidently isn’t a homogeneous and uniform substance, but it seems to her that something slimy, creepy and of various consistency is immersed and not dissolved in it, and it also feels to her very cold at one moment, and very hot the moment after, and then less, and then more again. Desperate and panting from the terror, she moves on forward with little hops into the sludge, where the substance gets rapidly deeper. She feels it freezing, and next boiling hot, and so it is, at the same time, for various parts of her body, at different depths. She cannot even breathe well anymore, and she realizes that the liquid sticks to her, and it soaks through her clothes and skin. All of a sudden, as she is advancing, she perceives some presences under the surface, and she soon understands that it is damned souls immersed in the muck of the swamp. A few of them also become aware of her presence, as they’re churning in the dense filth they get a glimpse of her, and awkwardly and slowly they struggle to push along and move into her direction. They stretch out their arms, and there are two or three that are thrusting the closest to her, although others have seen her and they are getting curious. It seems that their intention is to invade her, possess her, turning her into a part of the swamp itself, along with them, in the never-ending drift along the flow of the sludge. Although they can’t touch her with their bodies, Lazra becomes conscious of how concrete those presences are, as they get to affect her, to act upon her spirit, her soul, through sensations, emotions and feelings. She perceives how she might be impelled into a direction or a motion by an impulse of the soul, by a sensation, or a passion that grabs her inside. She rebels decisively against such aggressions, with screams and jerks, trying with all her might to get back in control of herself and find balance, but suddenly she sees and feels two other spirits, which sprawl over her with their presences, making her collapse and immerge completely in the foul sludge. Lazra flings her body about forcefully, from one side to the other, letting out desperate yells inside the dark substance that is embracing her, and subsequently, with yanks and immense efforts, she emerges again, pulling away from the violent assaults, and she finally manages to break free and recover some control over her spirit, at a moment when the damned ones drift back and disappear into the swamp, fading away off shore. She dashes out of there, then, trembling hard with terror and coughing, and she heads for the shore again.

 

Medusa up closer:

Despite the fact that Lazra is emerging back from entirely blind and obscure depths, the surrounding environment is constantly gloomy and dark, the glimmers that one may perceive come from inside the city of Dis, and yet they are localized and reddish, somehow like on a dark and dimly-lit night on the planet Earth.

Lazra runs hopping along, and she gets all the way out of the marsh. She immediately sees to it that she does not go back exactly where she was before, but she tilts the direction aside so as to also find a break, however she can, from the dangers of before. She then slows down the run, and she begins walking in circles, diminishing speed and occasionally stopping to catch her breath, feeling exhausted and drenched, in her skin and her hair, with the dirt of the swamp.

Megaera and Tisiphone, however, draw nearer from above, parallel and one at a short distance from the other:

-- “Alright, we have waited long enough for the most fun moment!”, Megaera announces with a grin, giving her companion an excited look.

Next, they swoop hurling down at her with no hesitation, both at the same time. They grasp her by the arms, one on each side, and they lift her up in the air, like the prey of a voracious bird, as she kicks her legs around, she uselessly tosses and turns in the open space that becomes more dense and fetid as they lift upward.

-- “Stay calm, we’re going for a ride!”, Tisiphone enjoins into her ear, with a slow and menacing tone of voice.

As a priority, Lazra keeps in mind that she must not look at Medusa, so she turns her head with quick jerks first to one side, then to another, to get an idea of where the gorgon is and where she is moving. She hears her hollers and her laughter, even before seeing her:

-- “Hi! Hi! Look who’s here! I almost thought that you’d decided to go away and leave us alone!”

Lazra recognizes the cavernous voice, and she vehemently bends her head downward, pressing her chin against her chest and squeezing her eyes. Next, she turns her head to one side again, yanking hard at the Furies’ grip, and Medusa appears right in front of her, rising up from below, and she gets closer and closer to her, slowly and relentlessly, glaring her straight in the face.

-- “Hi! Hi! Hi!!”, she giggles hoarsely.

Keeping her eyes closed, Lazra turns her head to her left-hand side, above her shoulder, with such a forceful jerk that she almost sprains the bones of her arms, her shoulders and neck. Still moving slowly, giggling cavernously, and parting her lips into a ghastly and dreadful grin, Medusa draws her face up even closer to the girl’s right cheek, until she smells it, and while some snakes slide down Lazra’s hair and they slither over her body, Medusa sticks her tongue out of her mouth, wiggling it rapidly, and she gives her a long and slimy lick along the side of her face, and drags it up to wet her right eyelid.

 

Michelangelo, along with the soul of the statue:

At that moment, not far from over there, the gates of the city of Dis open up, from being closed as they were, and in a blaze that lights up a vast part of the entrance and the shore in front of it, the spirit of Michelangelo Buonarroti appears, the artist author of the original sculpture of David, accompanied by the soul of its copy Dayéd, that Lazra left a little while ago inside Dis. They move forward on the sand of the bank, placidly and unperturbed, with the wise awareness of an unavoidable destiny, in the midst of the damned spirits who were attending the scene, and who are now staggered and bewildered. They walk in the direction of Lazra, Medusa and the three sisters, and raising his look toward them, with a firm and forceful voice, Michelangelo enjoins the Erinyes:

-- “Let the young terrestrial go immediately! Back off and don’t ever bother her again for any reasons, because she’s been granted grace, and it is wanted so by the sky.”

He then turns toward Medusa, :

-- “Have you heard? Get away right now, and don’t ever get near her again! She must continue her route.”

Next, he turns toward the damned souls that were surging onto Lazra, but they have already quieted down by themselves and have for the most part scattered around, recognizing the inevitability of a divine will.

Lazra, in the meantime, has abruptly tumbled down into the sludge of the swamp again, in its shallow part right by the bank, and trembling and terrorized, from the experiences that she’s just been through, she is standing up again and gathering herself together. She gradually recovers as Michelangelo and Dayéd get nearer with discretion, and so she reunites with her companions of a short time before. The spirit of the artist then addresses her:

-- “Lazra, I‘ve been called upon by a celestial spirit to bring you and Dayéd assistance and therefore allow you to proceed.” 

Lazra is wide-eyed and in disbelief, her mouth is hung half-open with the bewilderment, and she gives a puzzled look to the soul of the statue right beside. The artist continues:

-- “By virtue of the spirit of generosity and sacrifice of which Dayéd has given proof, not only with you, Lazra, but in favour of all your fellowmen who would get to benefit from the realization of your efforts, he has been granted the divine grace to go on, and to get back from the realm of the souls to the mortal world, as was planned by the previous promises.”

Lazra stares at Dayéd, astounded and bewildered, and the soul recounts to her:

-- “I was no longer hoping to see you nor any place not only of the worldly life, but even outside of the walls of Dis. At a certain point, right there where I was standing, I saw the shining spirit of Michelangelo come along, who was making a bright day in the dark of the eternal night, and he told me to follow him. So I started walking after him, and we then came to you.”

Lazra opens up her mouth wide, in an impulse of joy and enthusiasm, without however being able to express and sustain all that she is getting to feel after these new emotions, and she simply hangs her head down, and barely lets out a liberating weep, jerking between her shoulders.

Since Michelangelo and Dayéd’s arrival, the three have been left completely alone by the damned spirits that were previously crowding around the threshold of the city of Dis, and who now find themselves in a state of bafflement and confusion, and also by the Erinyes and the gorgon that had hurled themselves violently charging and have now disappeared from sight.    

 

Across the Styx swamp:

After taking leave of the spirit of Michelangelo, Lazra and Dayéd head off across the shore, toward the skiff of Phlegyas, that in the meanwhile has just arrived with a load of damned spirits just evaluated and judged by Minos, and destined into the city of Dis.

As they are getting ready to climb on board, Dayéd asks her, with a fearful and faint voice:

-- “Have you kept track of how long we have left in order to leave and get back?”

She half smiles, without looking straight at him, and lowering her eyes she answers him:

-- “The period is running out now, if it isn’t all up already. And to tell the truth,” she adds with a hint of laughter, “I feel that my strength is now and then falling short, and it must not be just from the exertion of before.”

-- “But it’ll still take some time to get to where we started…”, he observes with apprehension and grief.

Lazra looks him in the eye, and with a warm and merciful smile she tells him:

-- “Don’t worry about it, never mind. This has already been taken into account for a while…”

They start out on the crossing, the craft is empty except for the conductor himself, and during the first stretch Dayéd and Lazra lean against the edges and take the opportunity to relax somewhat, while she feels that her strength is dwindling away, and at certain moments she has the impression of losing her senses. The spirit of the sculpture, instead, is gradually acquiring corporeality and sensitivity, turning from the immaterial soul that he was into a man of flesh, bones and blood.

Then something occurs that neither one of the two would have expected, nor Phlegyas himself: a damned spirit immersed in the muck of the swamp seems to be particularly mindful of the boat and its passengers, and after observing Lazra and noticing that she is still in her bodily life, he addresses her with grunts and expressions which in the first place sound incomprehensible for both her and Dayéd. After a while, however, they recognize some meanings to them:

-- “…who are you? What you want? What you do here?...”, the fellow asks with brusque and threatening tones. The passengers stare at him with attention and prudence, but they reply nothing in return. Then the damned one carries on, approaching further:

-- “..nobody…no-one…nobody goes back this way, on Phlegyas’ boat…you only go that way”, and he indicates the direction toward the city of Dis. “Not this way. This way is just for the empty boat, to get some more of them.” Again, Dayéd and Lazra do not answer. The guy seems to be losing his patience in noticing the indifference to his observations:

-- “Who are you? Who do you think you are, to be doing as you wish?”

Afterwards, he gets yet closer to the craft, he grasps the edge with his hands, he yanks himself up onto it, and in one movement he awkwardly flings himself at Lazra , reaching out to get a hold of her. She screams, although her reflexes and her strength are sapping, and she plunges backwards, groping for cover, and Dayéd also reacts to defend her. 

-- “Noo-ooh!!!”, he yells out, and he dashes towards her, taking hold of the damned spirit by the arms, to set her free. He achieves that: the sprit gets warded off, while Lazra is bounced back by the hit with the physicality that the soul of the statue is acquiring more and more, and she tumbles down to the floor of the skiff. In the current phase of assuming his corporeality, Dayéd begins little by little to have some physical, fleshy contacts, at the same time gradually reducing the direct contact with the souls.

The damned one remains clasped onto Dayéd, and indeed, now another damned soul climbs up against the boatside exactly as the first one did, taking advantage of the bustle, and he latches onto the passenger together with his companion. Dayéd hesitates now, he glances over at Lazra who is free and sitting a few steps away, she is not in danger and he, in his turn, cares more about abiding by the precept than struggling for his own safety. He therefore remains defenceless and passive to the yanks and attacks from the damned spirits, but when the first one that climbed onto the edge suddenly jumps all the way on board, and he addresses his attention to Lazra once more, turning to get back at her, Dayéd reacts again, and he hurls himself toward her. In order to protect her this time, he ought to hit the damned one who is immaterially assaulting her, and throw him back into the sludge. After grasping hold of his arm, Dayéd gathers his thoughts and concentration, to consider and decide, and Lazra realizes this with dismay. As the damned soul is turning toward her, the girl is mostly worried about what Dayéd might do, coming short of the commitment. The soul of the statue then decides instinctively, charging his arm back to strike a punch. She lets out a cry of despair and anguish and she faintly flings herself to stop Dayéd’s arm, which is by now in motion and delivers the blow. Lazra gets stricken, absorbing the whole impact upon herself, and she falls unconsciously to the floor of the boat.

-- “Noo!”, Dayéd cries out with tearing pain, and he crouches down toward her, despairing of his gesture.

It is now up to Phlegyas, the oarman of the Styx marsh, to step in, as fate has planned and disposed, and with his oar he strikes the damned spirit clandestinely on board the skiff, and the other one sprawled over its edge, and he hurls them both back into the sludge of the swamp, where they‘ve been destined for ever.

Lazra is pale and unconscious, Dayéd tries to accommodate her the best that he can, with her legs slightly propped up, and her bust resting against the side of the boat; he’s feeling as if he doesn’t fully realize the situation, or what needs to be done. He takes a look around, glances at Lazra, trying to reflect, and he despairs, bending down towards her, with groans of discomfort and rage at the same time, tormented by the sense of guilt about what he has done.

 

On the way out:

When the crossing of the Styx swamp is through, they climb off on shore, and while Phlegyas turns his look toward a few dead souls that have just come along, Dayéd delicately lays Lazra down on the ground, onto the hellish earth, with her head leaning against a rock. Crouching on his knees right beside her, he touches her face, her cheeks, her forehead, crying out to himself:

-- “Oh, my God! Until a short time ago the two of us could not even touch each other, and now what have I done?” He addresses a prolonged moan to the sky, with his eyes squeezed and his hands clenched together, and then he bends over on himself.

It seems to him that her color is turning more and more pallid, and her breathing is dying away. He then grabs her arms and pulls her to himself, shaking her with desperation, and he screams to her:

-- “Recover yourself! Open your eyes! We’re almost there!” 

All of a sudden, Dayéd  catches sight of the spirit of Erì-thong, the wise hermit, who appears standing on the shore at a brief distance from him, with a fleeting aspect which comes and goes, and is barely perceptible. His expressions is benevolent and warm-hearted, and with a voice that sounds to Dayéd low and deep, as if it permeated the whole environment, he urges him:

-- “…Take Lazra with you…keep going on your way…”

-- “What do you mean?!”, Dayéd replies with distress. “She’s almost dead! She won’t answer anymore, she doesn’t breathe, the period’s been up for a long time!! She is dead!!!”, he shouts with anguish.

-- “…keep going on your way…”, Erì-thong repeats with a placid voice, “…she has found grace from the sky…” Now the spirit of the wise man vanishes into the air, and his voice leaves off all reference of place and origin, and it resonates all around and within Dayéd. “…she will come around three days from now…carry her with you.”

Dayéd is dazed, in disbelief, he does not even react to the novelty: simply, with his mouth frozen and his eyes wide open, he turns his look to where the spirit appeared a moment before, and then to Lazra, lifeless on the ground. He hesitates for a few instants, but then a practical sense of duty spurs him, and after taking hold of Lazra in his arms, he stands up and he sets off to pick up his path again.

He can no longer see the damned spirits ready to be embarked by Phlegyas, although in a feeble and fleeting way he still can hear some shouts, yells, noises as before, which are however progressively fading away. He walks on without minding that much anymore, and after a few steps, almost without him fully being aware of it, the environment of hell as it appeared to him a little while ago, vanishes and turns into a forest with vegetation, plants of different kinds and trees, which are little by little thinning out. Lazra is still unconscious and motionless in his arms, but he is not very concerned about that, as he passes with discreet steps the last lines of trees and he glimpses ahead of him the initial morning glow that is just now reaching out its first dense rays over the horizon.    

 

Return to the mortal life…:

Dayéd descends from the plain of the valley of the Soles into the ampler and wide open low land that one may cross on the way to the built-up area, and on the verge of it, in the proximity of one of the lanes that Lazra herself has been in the habit of frequenting, he meets three Interplanetary Guardians, Gus-par and Yu’ko, the girl’s two confidential friends, together with a third companion of the Order, who are at the moment walking across those natural sites. Immediately, Lazra and Dayéd get conducted to a service-center of the Order, in which there is also a first-aid infirmary, and she is admitted into it under observation, whereas he undergoes a general check-up.

 

Lazra is in bed, in an admission room of the intensive care unit at the service-center of the Order, she is still unconscious, and is under constant observation. Gus-par and Yu’ko are inside the room as well, standing one next to the other, discreetly off to one side from the bed, in the vicinity of the entrance. They are watching her with anxiety but trustfully, as Gahk walks into the room from outside.

-- “She is not in danger”, Yu’ko relates to Gahk, to inform him about the situation, “she is gradually recovering liveliness, and shortly she ought to be coming to her senses again, maybe in a few days…”

-- “But what is it with her?”, Gahk asks . “What has happened?”

Gus-par answers him:

-- “When we found her yesterday, she was extremely weak, her vital sings were very faint and irregular, and nevertheless they were gradually recovering, as if they had just started functioning again from an actual state of death. By the way that she appeared to us in the first place, actually, up to this moment she has gotten better in an amazing manner.”

-- “Nobody has quite understood yet what has occurred to her”, Yu’ko continues then, “the fellow that was with her when we met her, although in general he is doing fairly alright, seems somewhat vague and hazy about what has happened, as if he himself was feeling confused over it…”

-- “However it is…”, Gahk comments observing the girl, “if she is out of danger and she is recovering, this is already good enough, I would say…”

The other two Guardians nod slowly, agreeing with his words.

 

As if at a certain point she had decided that she’s rested enough, Lazra opens her eyes in the most spontaneous and natural way. By the side of the bed she recognizes her two friends Gus-par and Yu’ko, at whose sight she weakly stretches her lips into a smile.

-- “Ehi, there! Good morning!”, Gus-par exclaims in her direction, bending toward her. “So, did you finally sleep well? Did you rest alright?”

The girl nods half-closing her eyes. After a moment she slowly rubs them, and then, looking at the two Guardians, she asks:

-- “…Dayéd…?”

-- “He is doing well”, Gus-par answers her. “He is keeping company with a few Guadians, and he is staying with them for now, later on we’ll see. He has taken a medical check-up in here, in the past three days, and he’s turned out to be in good shape.”

-- “Afterwards we’ll see how to start telling others that Dayéd is here!...”, Yu’ko observes with a joking air.

-- “That’ll be something to think about!...”, Gus-par comments.

Lazra smiles with her eyes almost closed.

Gus-par draws closer to her, beside the bed, and he recommends in a low voice:

-- “We don’t know much about what happened, up until now we haven’t been able to gather information to understand a lot, but if you need something, or if there is any need, let us know, ok? These Guardians are available: use them!”

Lazra smiles again, sweetly and gratefully. 

 

…and first encounters:

Lazra is at the moment immersed in the beloved natural environment that she has often been to, either by herself or in company, before her recent experience, and she is standing near the two companions of a short while ago, Gus-par and Yu’ko, on the edge of a vast and flourishing meadow.

-- “This place is a wonder!”, she comments with an ample and joyful smile. “Maybe I feel attached to it from the habit of coming here so often, and this is not right, I ought to be independent and detached from places, but it certainly is a magnificent setting.”  

The Guadians smile. The three start walking along a path and she continues:

-- “I happened to think about Erì-thong. How is he? Have you seen him lately? I’d like to meet him…”

Yu’ko, who is walking beside her and at this moment is the closer to her, gives her a look, then he turns to look down again at the path where he is setting his feet, and he communicates to her:

-- “Erì-thong is dead.”

Lazra turns her head abruptly towards him, with a surprised and questioning expression, uncertain about what he might mean, whether he is speaking seriously, and with a hint of a smile still on her lips.

-- “He died seven days ago”, he carries on, after taking another look at her in confirmation, “at night. It seems that it was due to a sudden, fatal stroke. He was at his place.”

Lazra becomes more aware now, and a little at a time her expression turns serious and distressed. The amazement, for the time being, still softens the sharpness of sorrow.

-- “Seven days ago?...”, she exclaims almost in disbelief. “But it must have been the day after I went to his home!...”, she continues to reflect by herself, and then she gives Gus-par and Yu’ko an abrupt look, as if following a sudden realization. Her soul has reached a new awareness, but it is also pervaded by sadness and pain. 

 

Lazra, Gus-par and Yu’ko are then reached by Gahk and two sisters of the girl’s, who were present on the night at the public hall from which Lazra suddenly ran away.

-- “Lazra!”, both her sisters yell out walking up towards her, smiling and with a genuine enthusiasm about seeing her again. “Where were you?” one of the two inquires. “Oh, well, it’s true that for three days we were gone with Pop as well, and finally only Mom was home and she says she hasn’t heard news from you for days. She was a little concerned, although you know that she trusts you very much.”

-- “More than me for sure!...”, comments the other one smiling ironically. “We went away for three days and she kept on saying to Pop: ‘Make sure they do this, and they get that, and be careful about this yet…’ Gosh! Just like with some dim-wits!”

Lazra smiles, and then replies:

-- “If she had known in advance that I would be gone, she would have done the same with me too!...”

-- “Yes, she often does that!”, the first one comments, while all three of them laugh and smile. Lazra observes her sisters sincerely friendly and well-disposed between them and toward her, and she is at first a little amazed, although she can’t but be glad about that, and she cares about being good-natured in return.

-- “Raski says hi”, the second sister goes on. “He was doing some work that Pop asked him for.”

Lazra nods.

-- “Let’s hope for the best!”, the other one intervenes amused. “He said that it’s an experiment that he’s never tried before”.

-- “Oh, yes, come on!”, the first one replies to her. “He said that just to safeguard himself, so that nobody’s expecting anything special! In that respect, he is kind of smart about it, but truthfully he got seriously committed.” 

-- “Pop says hi too”, the other one reports looking at Lazra. “I saw him while we were on our way over here”.

-- “Thanks”, replies the terrestrial girl.

The two Guardians are present at the meeting, although slightly off to one side, and they have listened silently up to this moment, without interrupting the conversation. At this point they pleasantly get close to Lazra, and Gus-par interjects:

-- “I’m sorry to interrupt you. Lazra, we ought to get going now, it’s about all set, and we don’t have very much time…”

-- “Yes!...”, she replies readily. “We have to run!”, she informs her sisters. “We’ll see you. Say hi to Raski and Pop too, please, if I don’t see them first…”

They all say good-bye to each other and they head off, Lazra and the Guardians in one way and her sisters in another, each following their path.

 

 

 

 FROM PAINTINGS TO VIDEOS                                                                                                              HOMEPAGE