Canticle Blue

59. Two Worlds

Music - O Earth, O Earth, Return by Bill Douglas

"A god who can be blamed is not God."
—Grahmen Ravi

Five days after Annibet Sem married Devon Weske on the Sky Island, all forms of media communication originating from Havel stopped. The Colony ship Hedra, then reserved exclusively for Ark missions, had been outbound from the planet at the time. The crew reported seeing a flash of light so brilliant that the planet had briefly disappeared. After that, there were smaller explosions in many other places resulting in fires and dust clouds. They had wanted to investigate further but could not return because of space-born debris and radioactivity. Their limited views of cities showed massive infrastructure damage. On the night side of the planet, there were no lights. Since the Hedra was carrying a cargo of rescued life-forms, it then departed for Nantis.

The Bryn community received the news with consummate shock. There was no need for anyone to call for moments of prayer or silence. For weeks, there was a great abundance of both. The Colonists also found themselves flocking to the Sky Island, not only to catch distant glimpses of Havel, but to be among plants and animals which had come from there. The recently completed island was not only a source of comfort but reflection. A tremendous achievement, It had taken three years of hard work and countless rescue missions to complete.

Before the last perimeter section of the island was finished, it had already been described by its builders as an "out-of-the-way place." By the time it was completed, everyone referred to it as "Sanctuary," a place so inherently peaceful that people seldom spoke above hushed tones there. Its dome section was like that of other modules, but the center of its basin contained a large, shallow reflection pool, the bottom of which was transparent and used the same facets as the dome. When the water was still, the rings and storms of Nantis drifted visibly beneath the pool. When stirred, the spectrum of colors continuously mixed and swirled on the water's surface. The pool was surrounded by tiered seating areas, and above those were twelve steles facing outward. All were made of white marble and displayed glowing blue texts of valued sayings which changed periodically.

In the weeks after Havel was lost, Grahmen Ravi spent much of his time there. One evening Prince Aedh found him on his knees near a stele, with his head lowered. Out of respect, and without sound, he glided to the center of the chamber, stood in the air above the pool with his wings extended downward, and waited. From there he could see individuals, couples, and groups of people throughout the sanctuary, in quiet discussions, singing, or in prayer. When he looked back at Grahmen, he was reading a stele display of something he had written: "A god who can be blamed is not God."

Aedh settled next to him, hoping he would speak to that issue.

Grahmen pointed to the text. "I wrote this because I felt that leaders on Havel, and not God, were totally responsible for what happened there.

Aedh agreed. "There are many historical examples of failed leadership, but none on this scale."

Grahmen continued, "I wanted to write, 'God was not in the apocalypse,' but felt it would be presumptuous. A few of our people had asked about that. I was encouraged to see that none of them asked if our people could have done more to make Havel a better place. Questions like that are simply open-ended. They have been asked in our communities for centuries. Some of our ancestors actually gave their lives in the hope that people would just listen. Our approach to peaceful coexistence has never been secretive or exclusive.

"The thing that's troubling our people the most is how we get beyond this. I pray with all of them, certainly. But I also tell them that, regardless of conditions on Havel, we should consider that there could be survivors there. And we should think of what we can do to find and help them.

"Not at all to make light of what has happened, Aedh, but I wonder if this period of time will be remembered as something of a parable. On the one hand a viable world with possibly no life, on the other an otherwise hostile place that is thriving."

"What might such a parable teach?" Aedh asked.

"Perhaps the contrasting fates of those who are attentive to the most important things, and those who are not."