Sublime Awakenings

Sublime Awakenings: Chapter 39

----------Squee's Imagination-----------

As the blinding light dimmed and the man with short, curly yellow hair came back into view, finally letting go of the boy's hand, Todd gave him a curious look. “What was that?”

“Oh, surely you are aware of those who listen from other worlds. This, my lad, is meant to be a private conversation.” He had an old-fashioned British accent, but his age was indiscernible. Not old; not young. Just...there.

“Listeners...oh, yeah!” He was surprised that he had forgotten that the others might still be watching. Letta had said that they needed her to talk to him, not to see or hear what was happening inside his head. It occurred to him that normally, he would have been a little embarrassed to have mucked about, creating pretty things in his mind, unawares while everyone watched, but that didn't seem to be the case at the moment. In fact, such embarrassment seemed quite silly.

“This is for you.” The man pulled a thick, leather bound book from a maroon jacket, proffering it to the boy, who took it carefully into his hands.

“What is it?”

“It's a book.”

“Well, yeah.” Todd flipped the cover open, watching as the wind turned page after page of crisp, white parchment for him. “It's blank.”

“That, my dear lad, is because you have yet to write it.”

“Me?”

The man smiled knowingly, indulgently. “Yes, you.”

Todd's brow creased. “What exactly am I supposed to write?”

“I can't tell you exactly what to write because that symphony is no longer mine to compose.” Receiving another look of confusion, he elaborated a bit. “You see, when I die...or died to you I suppose...only half of the work will be completed, and what is left behind will be burned by a dear and trusted friend.”

“Burned? But that's terrible!” Book burning had always seemed a horrendously appalling act to Todd, worse even than plagiarism. It was like burning a piece of someone's soul.

“Yes, well, some men see danger and pain where others see enlightenment and pleasure.” A deep sigh. “In any event, it wouldn't have had the proper effect uncompleted.”

“And what effect is that?”

“To open the eternal worlds, to open the immortal eyes of humanity inwards into the worlds of thought.” The man spoke with a passionate flourish. “That is why you are the perfect choice. You have just undergone that very thing!”

“So...am I just supposed to write about the experience of...whatever that was then? Infinity?”

“Eternity. It's not so much a measure of time, now is it? It is a state of consciousness beyond time, but which can be experienced at any time, for any length of time.” Another smile, this one almost pleased. “The experience? By all means, if you want. But the important thing is where the creative vision leads you. It isn't enough to tell others about the Sublime, you must show them through art. Art is the language of the soul. Art of any kind, but I shall venture a guess that the written word, particularly story telling, is your forte.”

“Ummm...I do like to write, but I'm not sure that I'm very good at it.”

“You mustn't do that.” The man's voice was chastising, a little harsh even.

Todd stepped back a little. “Do what?”

“Doubt your talent, yourself. There are many truths, lad, but they must be believed in to be true. You must not spoil your truth with self-contradiction. You must maintain a firm persuasion in the infinities that your senses perceive!”

“Does a firm persuasion that a thing is so, make it so?”

“All poets believe that it does, and in ages of imagination this firm persuasion removed mountains; but many are no longer capable of a firm persuasion of anything. That is why this task is so important. The world needs to complete the revolution that was started in my life. It needs to throw off the chains of dogma and reason. It needs to face the Sublime, to be broken free from its illusions and obsession with weeping for a world that doesn't require any tears.”

“Wait just a minute.” Todd crossed his arms in a defensive stance, even though it was awkward because he was still holding the book. “You're Shmee, aren't you? You're trying to use me to get to all of the humans somehow!”

The man had a good, hard laugh. “Oh, no. No, I'm not.”

“Then what's with all this talk about the 'sublime'?”

“The Sublime is the vast greatness that you have just merged with: where the horses of instruction fear to tread. There is a lot of power in the creative genius, which is the portal to the Sublime, and that power is what your friend, Shmee, feeds on, so of course he is consumed by reaching it. But he only knows half of the truth, like so many humans. Fear is a path to the Sublime, but so is love, the knowledge that all is one and therefore should be loved as oneself. Wrath and love are two sides of the same coin, designed for the same purpose, but used to reach people from different points of view.”

“So...I'm supposed to write horrifying love stories...or romantic horror stories?” That would be a weird combination.

Another chuckle. “Perhaps. As I said before, I can't tell you what to write. Each generation must have new works for its time, based on older masterpieces perhaps, but they should not be repeated. You are to finish the Bible of Hell, but not as I would have.”

“The w-hat?”

“The Bible of Hell. That is my unfinished work.”

There was a resounding thud as the book slipped from Todd's jittery hands onto the wild-flower covered ground. Words spilled out of his mouth so fast that they ran together. “I-I don't want it! I don't wanna to write that!”

“Ah, but God wants you to. He has chosen you.”

The boy shook his head. That didn't even make sense. “G-god?”

“Yes, but my God is not the god of this world, not the God of the Churches. My God is bigger than that. And smaller. The true God is the Great Architect, my God is every artist, every child. God is every part of the system, God is the whole system, and God is incarnate in every being that sees as God sees: every being that sees life through an immutable substance of imagination. Seeing the Sublime is seeing God.”

“Oh. But...why me? I can't be the only person to have seen this. And why would God want me to write a Bible for Hell?”

“Because, lad, the Bible of the Churches is notoriously bad at opening the eternal eyes. It is predominately a book of rules and dogmatic morality, and rules only serve to confuse and stifle the imagination, which must be opened to the Sublime to see the glory of God. The world needs a Bible that will set them free, not one that will add more shackles.

“Heaven and Hell are points of view. To the angels of reason, Hell looks like torture, just as Heaven looks to devils. Even so, to those who wrap themselves in misery on Earth, Hell is torture, in life and after life. Those who expect misery in life and the afterlife will receive it in kind.

“Those who are lost need Hell, the wrath of God, because destruction perfects that which is good; for good cannot appear on account of that which conceals it….by element of fire all that is imperfect is destroyed or taken away. But it is the purpose of the more unsavory parts of Hell, but it is a hard task indeed, for many wear their woes as dreary priests wear their robes. They repeat their makes again and again, but learn naught. Their souls call out for the Sublime to burn away their misconceptions, to open that portal to God! That is why the world needs the Bible of Hell.”

“Do I...know you?” It was a question that had been on the tip of Todd's tongue ever since he had taken the man's hand.

The man paused to give the other a significant look. “I believe you do, but not through the usual means. You see, I am one of the bearers of that key.”

Todd looked down at the silver key that dangled from a golden colored chain. The key: Pepito's key. He had to force his mouth closed when he realized that it was hanging open. “Oh! The key doesn't belong to me! I'm just borrowing it so I won't die.” He bent down to retrieve the book, handing it back to the man as relief flooded through his being.

But the man's smile only grew, his hand touching Todd's without actually taking the book back. “He gave it to you?”

“He lent it to me.”

“For your protection?”

“...Yes. Does that mean something?” The teen bit his lower lip as the worry started to come back. It wasn't as strong as it would have been if someone had told him all of this before, but it was still there.

“It means that the key is yours.” The book was pressed back toward Todd. “That's how the administration planned it out this time around.”

“What?”

“In the Church's Bible, in Revelations, there is the Beast and there is the False Prophet. They are two different people, did you know that? The wrath and the rumor, if you will. These names are names given to us by the god of this world, who is not the true God, but they are two. The Beast carries the lock and the Prophet carries the key. In my day, the Beast lead the Revolution and I created my workbooks for the same cause, but we did not work together. Because of this the Revolution did not carry the weight of the true freedom.”

“So...everything...my whole life...is just a tool for the administration and their plans? And Pepito is just...just using me for his war. And I'm just supposed to comply with all of this?” He felt on the verge of tears, his fingers digging a little too deeply into the leather of the book. He had worked so hard to be free! Not the universe's little plaything!

“No. You're not a tool of God. You are God. Just as Jesus was the only God, so am I and so are you. So is everyone, if you make them see it. And Pepito had little more idea than you did. That wasn't part of the plan. He couldn't know. His choice had to be based on love, not reason, so that the two of you would be a true team. Without the Prophet, the Beast has no true direction. His wrath will be used for oppression. Without him, your works will not revolutionize the world. The gates of Hell will remain closed to those who cannot see the Sublime without them.”

“Writers can really make that much of a difference? I always thought that the, uh...False Prophet...was supposed to be some kind of religious leader.”

“I think you'd be surprised. In the Odyssey, when a priest and a poet fall on their knees before the hero, praying for mercy, he kills the priest, but spares the poet. According to Homer, he felt awe to slay a man who had been taught his divine art by the gods. Not the priest, but the poet, had influence with the Divine. Priests are implementers of law and transient morality, which makes connection with God near impossible. Poets are the voice of God.”

Todd looked down at the book uncertainly. “Do I have to do this?”

“Of course not.” The man's voice became more serious. “But if you don't, the world will have to wait until someone else does. And without you, your friend will be lost, and the entire world might well pay for it. He needs you, Todd. The world needs you.”

A tear finally fell onto the cover of the black leather as Todd met the other's gaze. “I-” He paused mid-sentence when the world started to tremble and shake.

“You're waking up. You won't remember most of this.”

“Why?” That wasn't fair at all! If he wasn't going to remember, why was he being told all of this? He looked at the book again. A symbol. It was a symbol, planted as a reminder that would remain, unconsciously, in his mind. Shit.

“That's just the way it works, the way it has to be.”

“But-”

-----------Back at the lab----------------

“Todd! Todd, wake up! You have to wake up now!” Pepito shook the other boy harder than he meant to as Zim unplugged the last of the diodes from his head.

“Careful, Earth-scum! Don't harm the merchandise!”

“Merchandise?” Gaz raised a purple eyebrow in the idiotic alien's direction.

Dib gave Zim a very confused, slightly disturbed glance before shaking his head. Another prime example of the very wrong things that his nemesis spewed on a regular basis. His attention was refocused on Squee when the boy began to make small unconscious movements, even letting a few muddled words pass into the waking world. “I think he's coming to!” The act of pointing out the recently obvious was a fine human tradition, one that he wound carry on to the chagrin of any green-skinned space-monster that dared scoff at him.

“But, I still have so many questions. So...many questions.” His eyes blinked several times before Todd's surroundings finally sunk into his brain, dislodging the cloudy process of dreaming. He was awake! He had been saying something about questions. What questions?

“Squee!” Letta drew attention to herself with a loud sniff. “You're back! You're awake!” Pushing her way between Pepito and Dib, the girl hugged Squee as best she could with him still seated in the holochamber's chair.

“Yeah. I guess I am.” His arm warped around her upper back, against the light blue fabric of her sweater. “Thank you, Letta. All of you. For helping me.”

More tears fell from Letta's eyes, but this time they were tears of joy, despite how disjointed she still felt mentally. “You're welcome, bro.”

Pepito shot Todd a warm smile once the girl finally moved out of the way. “Welcome back, Amigo.” He reached out a hand to help the other up. “Can you stand?”

Taking the offered hand, Todd let his friend help him up, finding it surprisingly easy to stand on his own, even after receiving another tight hug. “Thanks. Yeah, I think so. How long was I out?” He looked around the rounded, white room curiously. They must be in Zim's base. It occurred to him that everyone he knew probably had something more interesting in their basement than he did. Zim had his alien base, Dib and Gaz had a high tech science lab, Pepito had a link to Hell and Nny had a labyrinth of torture devices, not that he wanted one of those. Even Letta had a dark room!

Dib checked his watch/communicator. “About five hours. It's nearly five in the morning.”

“Ah. That makes sense.” But it really didn't, though it didn't not make sense either. The truth was that it was near impossible to tell how much real time had passed while he was in the coma-like state. It could just as easily been a few months as a few minutes. But he could walk fine, and that probably wouldn't be the case if he Shmee had kept him unconscious for a long time. “Where is Shmee?”

“You will be happy to know, Squeaky little hyuman worm, that the Shmee-thing is safely tucked away in the filthy bear of hair and wuv in another part of the Mighty Zim's base! This whole thing has been a TRIUMPH of Irken technology!” Zim pumped a fist into the air to emphasize what a great triumph it truly was.

“Irk-in?” The blond looked to the green kid with questioning eyes. “What's Irkin?”

“OH! EH...Irken is, uh, Irken is the secret, underground company which manufacturers this amazing equipment for my people! My...er...parents...used to work for Irk, the Irken corporation, before joining the FBI. Yep.”

“Oh.” She nodded in acceptance, though a disquieted look remained on her mascara-streaked face. The thought of another country having this kind of technology wasn’t exactly comforting. Her own wouldn't stand a chance in a war with them or if Irk was for hire by possible terrorists. But at least Zim's parents were on their side, evening the playing field.

Todd gave a sigh that almost came out as a laugh at Letta's gullibility. “Can I see Shmee? I told him we would talk.”

“I think that's a great idea!” Dib's right hand unconsciously ran over one of the pockets in his trench coat, making sure that he was still equipped with a recording device. “It would probably be easier if you were the one to question him. He seems much more cooperative than before, so it shouldn't be too difficult to learn what we need to know.”

Zim smiled a huge, zippered smile before speaking up. “Yes! Yes, all according to PLAN!” His plan anyway. “To the Shmee-monster! My computer has stored him in a high security level chamber of my base. Come, I will show you!”

As the others began to follow Zim from the room, Pepito gripped Todd's upper arm to stop him, giving them a small amount of privacy. “Are you really okay?”

“Yeah. I...I think I am. I guess I should be traumatized or something, but I feel okay. A little too distant from everything, but okay.” Todd sent him a reassuring smile. “I can handle talking to Shmee. I think that the portal thing made him less crazy. Maybe.”

The half-demon's mouth formed a worried smile. “Don't get too close, Amigo.” In all probability, Todd was rather vulnerable at the moment, and that sorry, manipulative ball of energy would try to take advantage of that. The power dynamics had shifted, and now he would try to play up as much sympathy as he could. And sympathy was something that Todd had an abundance of.

“I know that, Pep. I'll be careful.” He gave the other a slightly afforded look as he pulled the tan hand from his arm. Did Pepito think he was stupid?

Pepito allowed his hand to be removed easily, only to grasp the hand that removed it instead. “Todd, wait. There was someone else after Shmee left your imagination. And then something happened on your end of the data transference. What happened after you took his hand? Who was he?”

His brow furrowed in confusion before a vague flash of seemingly random imagery ran through his mind, just enough to tease, but not enough to give it much substance. “He said I wouldn't remember.”

“Remember what?”

“I don't remember.” Todd smiled, even though he was a little disturbed at this. Whatever it was felt really important, but whenever he tried to force the memories, he just pulled up a blank or the feeling of being inside the schism. “I guess that means he was right, right?”

“I...suppose it does.” Pepito forced another smile, giving Todd's hand a squeeze before following Zim and the others to the lift and then to another part of the base.

Several twists and turns down a purple, metal hall later, they arrived at a large, box-like door that opened at the sides, and sealed shut with audible pressure and locking gages after they passed through. Dib took in their surroundings carefully, memorizing everything that he could in case he ever ended up being held here. He was actually kind of offended that he never had been. Didn't Zim consider him a worthy adversary?

“Alright, Earth monkeys,” Zim finally stopped in front of another, smaller room with a one way mirror allowing those outside to see inside where the wuv bear that Shmee now resided in was being held in a clear, shatterproof cage that also carried an energy current, just in case, “this is it! Only Zim and the Squeak will go inside to question the anaphasic pest because he will be more cooperative that way. You all just get to sit and watch! And what AMAZING watching it shall be!”

“But-” Dib started to interrupt.

“NO! No butts for you, Dib-thing! Now, point your enormous head toward the mirror and watch! And feel honored!” Zim's middle finger pressed a series of numbers into a security lock, prompting the doors to slide open. “Inside, Squeaky human! And don't touch anything!”

“Alright, alright, I'm going, Zim, jeez.” Todd rolled his eyes as the disguised alien urged him forward a little too forcefully. After being lightly pushed into the room, he stepped up to the cage to stare at the pink bear.

“He can't move or talk in that containment of sicky hyuman creation, so you'll have to communicate with him telekinetically.” The invader informed the unknowing Squeak offhandedly as he locked them in.

“That shouldn't be a problem.”

Zim's smile grew as the lock clicked into place, and he spoke in a low, highly pleased voice that wasn't directed at the Squeaky child at all. “Excellent. Computer! Execute command 3-6-5-8-3-5-1-2!”

“On no!” Dib's voice rang out behind the mirror just before there was a small flash of energy in the small room. That smile! That voice! Zim was up to no good again!

“What? What's happening?” Letta started to shake again. She was going to need anti-stress meds after this, she just knew it.

“They're gone! There's nothing in there!” Shit, shit, shit! Dib face-palmed. He should have known better than to trust Zim with something this important!

“Shit! That little fucking traitor! How do we get in there?” Gaz approached the door, nearly vibrating with anger. Zim would pay! Oh, how Zim would pay! She was going to make him wish that she was never born more than anyone ever had before!

“I don't know! We need the combination!” Dib's lip quivered in a way that it hadn't since middle skool. If only he had his lap top to hack into Zim's computer!

“You think he's with Bitters?” The question was simple, and Pepito's voice was deadly serious.

Gaz slammed her fist uselessly against the metal of the door before turning back around. “Where the hell else would he be!”

The demonic teen gave the door another hard stare before turning to go. “Then that's where I'm going.” Enough was enough. It was time for Zim to fucking die.

Notes:

--Quotes by William Blake:

-“I rest not from my great task! / To open the eternal worlds, to open the immortal eyes / Of man inwards into the worlds of thought.”

-“Does a firm persuasion that a thing is so, make it so?” / “All poets believe that it does, and in ages of imagination this firm persuasion removed mountains; but many are no longer capable of a firm persuasion of anything.” This is almost a direct quote of William Blake from A Memorable Fancy.

- “Destruction perfects that which is good; for good cannot appear on account of that which conceals it….by element of fire all that is imperfect is destroyed or taken away.”

--By now it's pretty obvious that Todd's visitor was Blake. The “Beast” during his time is supposed to be Napoleon (who, coincidently, is often listed as one of the Antichrists in the prophecies of Nostradamus, with Hitler being another-see the wrath for oppression reference?). I do not own William Blake (he owns me); he is just my favorite poet. He is also one of the most complex poets, and my interpretation of his beliefs is not the only one. Also, obviously, I added the stuff about him identifying as the Prophet and the administration and all that, in much the same way that Blake reinterpreted Christianity.

--The Bible of Hell: In The Marriage of Heaven and Hell, Blake says “I have also the Bible of Hell, which the world shall have whether they will or no.” W. B. Yeats, who collected and published some of Blake's unpublished work for the first time, claims that “there is record too of a Bible of Hell, and of this the title page remains” and that when Blake's wife died a few years after he did, she left his unpublished and unfinished works to a good friend by the name of Tatham, who gave up two days to their burning because he thought them inspired by the Devil. The Marriage of Heaven and Hell is amazing btw:
http://www.levity.com/alchemy/blake_ma.html

--The Beast and the False Prophet really are two different people/symbols in Revelations. And I need to give credit to ladyyatexel (the writer of SWAN) for accidentally planting the idea of Todd being the False Prophet in my twisted brain. There is a song that plays in Pepito's house in her story, Blue by Birthday Massacre, with the lyrics “You supply the rumors and I'll provide the wrath”. Then I was thinking about writing more of Wrath and Love, wondering how I could possibly make Todd Jesus with his character, and then it hit me. He fits the “false” Prophet much more.

--The part where Blake is talking about the Odyssey is a paraphrase of a part of the introduction to Edith Hamilton's Mythology.

Squee and Invader Zim characters belong to Jhonen Vasquez.