Get Darkness Back!

June 19, 2011

Council of the Wise: Get Darkness back. Surely even you would understand Singaporedaddy that we need a speaker to represent us in Munich!

Singaporedaddy: Your Excellencies, what you all ask is impossible. You see we have lost contact with Darkness and his entire team, it’s as if they have all disappeared from the face of the planet.

Council of the Wise: Yes, we have heard as well…but surely there is a way Singaporedaddy.

Singaporedaddy: Gentlemen, its been nearly 8 months. I can only imagine what it would be like to spend such a length of time in the interior of the jungle.

Council of the Wise: If we cannot find Darkness, perhaps he can find us.

Singaporedaddy: What do you mean Sir’s?

Council of the Wise: Have you heard of the Sarah project.

Singaporedaddy: Yes, we all have your excellencies. If memory serves, it was one of Darkness’s crackbrained plans to bring back to life his dead girlfriend. Unfortunately, he pulled the plug on that project.

Council of the Wise: So it seems. What if I said to you the Sarah Project was never ever cancelled. What if I went on to say a break through has been made and according to our Dusseldolf chapter, they have managed to bring her to life.

Singaporedaddy: Then I would have to say….love will find a way and we already have our star speaker to represent us all in Munich.

Council of the wise: Yes. Love will find a way.

——————————————————–

Life it seemed stretched out in one solitary thin line for Lim Teck Hing aged 47. In his youth, he had once played a game where he manned an obscure space station in mining sector of Ursula Ibanada. Mr Lim enjoyed the game immensely. Though the affairs of Ursula Ibanada can only be described as mundane and required him to track deep space mining vessels, Teck Heng reveled in his role as a 3rd class Navigation officer of the Brotherhood. He would often say to his wife, “it’s an acquired taste, like playing with oversized train set only there aren’t any rails.” One could say the nature of the game appealed precisely to the character Mr Lim as it mirrored his own life. An existence that was played out in the forgotten hamlet of Termelok – where Mr Lim manned the only meteorological outpost in the district of Sri Manjung on the outskirts of the forest reserve in Air Terjun.

Like many others who had heard of the Brotherhood. Mr Lim frequently entertained the remote possibility the fictitious characters who colored the game were real – from time to time; Mr Lim would look out into the desolate night sky and ask of the depths of infinity: “where are you people? When will you come for me in this desolate rock called Ursula Ibanada? I am the 3rd officer. A loyal servant who serves the Brotherhood. When will you people come?” Usually the question would be met with only muted silence.

One day, the 386 computer that Mr Lim usually played the game every morning and evening could not boot up. He wondered perhaps whether it was time to get another motherboard from Ipoh – after all, the circuits were old and the message that kept appearing every time he tried to boot up the program was odd – 706 URL. 

For days Mr Lim wondered to himself what 706 URL meant – then it occurred to him that it may be an access code. A message that was sent from afar. A message that could even be dispatched from the distant galaxy where Primus Aldentes Prime was located. That evening Mr Lim opened the safe where he had dutifully kept the operating manual for the space station he manned all by himself – the cover of the yellowed operating manual read, “steadfast, loyal and ready.” – perusing the manual for the code 706 URL, Mr Lim eventually realized that the message he had received the day before was an order to start up the stargate in the fictitious space station he controlled – he would work for 3 days and nights to prepare for the space jump.

“Yes, they are going to project into the real world…they are coming!” 

That evening 4 Toyota Hilux’s pulled up to the only kopitiam in Termelok. Though Mr Lim had never ever seen any of the characters in the game in the flesh. He immediately recognized the insignia of the four houses when the stranger placed a Zippo lighter on the marbled table. He had heard of guildsmen, those fabled warriors who had once fought the biggest cyber battle in the history of the internet, gamers called the Ascension Wars – and he knew enough of the culture of to realize the stranger who sat before him in dark glasses came from the ranks which the Brotherhood described as the “serious men.”

“You are to take us to through the Suriman Trail. We need to find Darkness.” The stranger said while leaning forward.

“I’ve been waiting all my life for this one day 1st officer. I thought none of you existed. I thought it was just a game, all smoke and mirrors. You know like a fairytale… make belief. Its been so many years 1st officer…..do you want to go now? I have a fake MC that allows me to get away from work for 3 days that should be enough time for us to make it to the river. After that you guys are on your own.”

“Thank you 3rd officer…long live the Brotherhood.” the stranger dressed in fatigues replied while drawing deeply on his cerut.

Mr Lim stood up to attention and exclaimed loudly, “long live the Brotherhood!”

In the same coffee shop a group of old men who may have once bore witness to more strange events than he cared to share for fear of being labelled the village dunce looked on at this curious exchange turned to another. 

“Wasn’t he the boy who once said that there were aliens and flying saucers? You know the one everyone considered crazy?”

To which another replied, “Yes, he was an odd boy then and he is an odd man now…he stayed on here…the others all went to the big cities to look for cushy jobs. But he stayed on and got a job at the top of a hill manning a weather station. He said, they would come one day…how odd.”

And those seated in the long bench nodded in silence, except one who asked,

“They?”

“Yes, they,” the eldest amongst them replied. An old man with a shock of white as he looked up into the starry night sky.”

Entry 80439 – The Book of Ages – recorded by Sarhabat – The Brotherhood.

———————————————————–
Nestled somewhere in the bustling city of Munchen. Hans Chritensen laid the final touches to the Sarah 3D rendition. Since its inception some 10 years ago, funding had been sporadic and the resolve mixed. Hans Christensen cared not for the game or for that matter many of the illusions that clothed it. He viewed himself as one of the clear minded, those who knew the game from the inside out – hence he often be heard recounting in the cafeteria in Bavaria Motor Works,

” Ein Betahaurst technilk!,”

Hans Christensen belonged one of the few who did not believe in the game or for that matter harbor any infantile illusions that the game could somehow be more than itself; just as a man can never be expected to step outside his skin – Hans Christensen had long since come to terms with this reality – to him the game was simply a means to fund many of his programs and experiments for free – in the weekends, Hans Christensen would often recount to his friends in the local pub overlooking the Square in Bandesburg – “you have no idea how many idiots there are in this planet; who are prepared to waste good money on imaginary cars and girls – it seems they are content to pay out without ever bothering with whether anyone at the other side is really doing any serious work…what a bunch of losers!’

That reality would be shattered one day, when a group of strange men turned up unexpectedly in the BMW plant where Hans Christensen worked as a programmer – it may have been providence or as his grandmother said, “Mazahtov,” – fate – that somewhere in between this chance encounter and the iron willed belief the game could be nothing more than a game; that Hans Christensen recognized the seal of the four houses stamped on the tiny gold lapel pin of one the visitors who had taken a special interest in his department and – from that moment onwards, the grandson of the survivors of the holocaust – or the ‘shoal’ realized that those who formed the imaginary ranks of the Brotherhood had projected into the real world – with this realization, Hans Christensen realized that they had come to see for themselves the outcome of the Sarah Project – they had come to square the accounts – and this was clearest when Hans Christensen found himself seated in a ramrod chair in a room as one of the men – the serious men turned to him and asked non chalantly.

“You know why we are here don’t you?……Science officer 2nd class.”

“Yes. I knew you would all come one day. I knew it from the very moment I played the game that one day, this day would come Proconsul. The money that was sent all these years. I realized it could not be for nothing. I want to show you all what I have created in my spare time…”

“Thank you Brother…long live the Brotherhood!”

“Long live the Brotherhood!…shall we say after work…I know a delightful place where they serve fabulous knuckles and real Bavarian beer.”

“Thank you Brother. But we are here on business not pleasure!” 

Entry 88400 – The Book of Ages – recorded recently by the Chronicler of the Brotherhood.


—————————————————

Some 5 kilometers East, where the river gives way to the infinity of sea in the state of Perak – Kupusamy scanned the horizon with his field glasses as he regularly did after his morning prayers. This the policeman who also doubled as the marine officer and sometimes the forestry officer did 5 times a day, twice to read the datum of the tide that was marked on a tree trunk on a kelong some one nautical mile out at sea; and usually thrice to make out the registration numbers of the barges that ferried supplies from the mainland to the 200 or so inhabitants who occupied the tiny fishing village of Kampung Sungai Rotan – that day Kupusamy registered 4 instead of the 3 barges; another barge had slipped through this narrow stretch where the river gives way to the straits of Malacca in the cover of darkness. As the only figure of authority in the river town of Kampung Sungai Rotan, it was the job of Kupusamy to make enquiries as to the nature and business of those who berthed – but that day, Kupusamy realized it was futile to ask those strangers questions any questions – 3 days ago while giving alms to the elephant deity, Ganesha – the Brahmin priest, a young man who had once studied in MIT only to return back to continue the family tradition of priesthood in Kampung Sungai Rotan had mentioned the coming of the fifth equinox when the moon would turn blood red, strangers would arrive and it would be best if he did not ask too many questions. Before the puja, the young Brahmin had scrawled the insignia of the four houses only to utter the words,

‘Remember somethings we are not meant to know.”

Kupusamy had hardly begun to understood the hidden meaning of those cryptic words – nor was he inclined to try too either; like the pantheons of technicolor Gods that had featured through out his life; Kupusamy realized only too well, it would be futile to ask questions especially when the fate of men were intertwined with that other wheel of life; where fortunes would rise and fall, life and death, joy and happiness and all the contradictions that made up the story of life.

That day as the strangers stepped on the jetty; Kupusamy could just about make out the insignia of the four houses on the baseball cap of one of them. From that moment onwards he remembered the words of the young Western educated Brahmin priest – and so he remained silent recounting some happy tune that swirled in his head from some Hindi movie. Kupusamy did not ask for their papers; he paid them no heed; they were as the Brahmin priest said to be

 “left alone as if they were ghost.”

At the end of the day the policeman entered 3 registration numbers into the only computer in Kampung Sungai Rotan and deliberately left out the fourth. It seemed strange to Kupusamy that the young Brahmin would accompany this group of strangers into the mangrove thicket; stranger still that he was attired in Western clothes. But these were things that Kupusamy, the fifth son of a rubber tapper who hailed from Air Terjun could never ever fathom – the idea that the young Brahmin was none other than a gamer who played the game called the Brotherhood.

This event has been recorded very recently by the Chronicler of the Brotherhood in the Book of Ages.

———————————————————————————————————————————-

Somewhere in Yosemite Park was Jason Lee’s one and only love, LAURA. He had tried to locate what was left of her. If only he could find her. The responder must have run out of juice Jason figured, that could be the only reason why the wreckage wasn’t transmitting – Jason had developed LAURA with seed money from the Interspacing Mercantile Guild. Jason had first tinkered with LAURA when he worked in Hughes, only to be kicked out one day when a security guard discovered a restricted microchip in his locker that should have never left the work hangar. The same thing happened in Phathom works. And that revolving door of in’s and out’s was all Jason had ever knew. The door that Jason passed through was the parting of waves with the Singapore government. Jason was a bondbreaker. And at age 39, the failed engineer had one last throw of the dice – following his dismissal from Hughes. Jason had sold his house and invested everything into LAURA. Now it seemed the crash of his only prototype would see his dream being blown into a million pieces.

That evening as a defeated Jason pulled up to his mountain trailer in Olympiad; he noticed a letter peeking out from the corner of the kitchen sill – he recognized the seal of the four houses and realized it must have been important. An emergency perhaps. That evening Jason would log on into the game, hardly had he entered his seven digit code. A message popped up into his intray.

“Here is the money for 3 units of LAURA. You have crashed the only one we needed, you bloody idiot. So start building the other 3 pronto. Pls bring the LAURA’s and haul your arse to Malaysia. Exact RDZ point will be made known to you later. Obey this.”

That week Jason started to rebuild the three LAURA’s – Low Altitude Unmanned Reconnaisance Aircraft. He reckoned someone important in the game was lost in the real world.

A recent entry in the Book of Ages documented by the Chronicler of the Brotherhood.

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s