The Galactic Center – Chandra X-ray Observatory
**
Unrest exists among the Dead.
“Something needs to be done. The Living do not realize the connection between them and us,” said Thales.
Salomon stood looking out at the endless horizon beyond the stone wall, flowers and trees. I need to watch this man, he thought, we all have our scruples here but top down this is an uneasy place. The comfort of the breeze is too considerate of our station. Oh, to be Home where we might rot in the fields and be of some use. Our common denominator floats us higher than I am used to. It is one thing to accept our condition, it is another to like it much.
“You stand here sullen Salamon. What do you think we should do?”
“We can do nothing about our election, Thales. What is done is done.”
“You are still a fatalist.”
“The Supervisor must know. If he doesn’t then Zeus does.”
“Zeus is not the end all be all,” grumbled Salamon.
“Hera will put him in his place,” smirked Thales. “I see her siding with us. This is an honorable protest. We only seek to see our children’s grandchildren and show them what we know.”
“At Home even an understanding of how it is here will do,” sided Salamon. Life had its advantages, but then so does death.”
“We have one less fear. Without death what can the Supervisor do to us? The gods cannot punish us here.”
“I have heard that is by Zeus’ command. We could still be punished?”
Thales grittily replied, “Then we exist only in rumors.”
***
Kassi sat at Marios’ side toying with his chest hair. “Who would have ever thought we could be so close here,” she whispered.
He grinned with his lips closed. She leaned down and kissed his nose. “It is strange,” he said quietly, “how dead we are, and yet we snuggle as one in a common thought.”
“We deserve our reward,” she replied, “we were faithful in life.”
“Hope or Temperance, which of the two was more important in life?”
Her smile seemed to drift into a quiet whine, “Hope is always a stronger virtue than moderation. Besides, we are here. Nothing can harm us from our lovemaking.”
In more seriousness than she expected, Marios said, “I still have a sense of temperance. I think we should not confront the Supervisor directly. We need a runner to send him a message.”
Now wide-eyed, Kassi insisted, “The Supervisor is female, I am sure of it.”
“Why do you insist this when no one knows?”
“It could be Hera herself, or Hades’ wife, Persephone. This I know, the Supervisor thinks like a woman.”
Frowning, he toyed, “How does a woman think different than a man? Our minds are one in the same.”
“Only in love, my dear Marios, only in love.”
***
You see how it is at the beginning of this long, long story. Here we are in the twenty-first century and the Rebellion still continues, how shall I say, “Underground.”
I am a nameless character like no other. An observer if you will, and as such, the Past is changed just by my arrival, and yours is too, by this reading. Some call me a Betweener but that isn’t the half of it. After all, how can you have half when you have no idea what full is?
These resourceful characters you have just met know where they are. Call it Heaven or Hell, Both or Neither. These dead people call it Elysium or the Elysian Fields as they are ancient Greek from about the time of the Storyteller, Homer, let’s say 800 BCE or 2700 years ago. I say about because you really have no idea. You set the arbitrary dates, not me. Human beings are strange that way, setting dates like they know the beginning and the end of things.
The Dead measure Time like water. From their point of view, back some 2700 years ago by your cultural measuring, time was half full. The Dead know things like that, they know when time will fill the bucket. The Living don’t have a clue but they think they do. Now let’s interlude on their fabled Mt. Olympus and enjoy the Place from a god’s point of view.
***
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