The Andromeda Treaty dictates that all people live life as they so desire.
There is a saying where I come from,
Something like “The third time’s the charm“,
And so it was for mankind, like a prophecy
from a rage-filled beast of the Old Book.
The divided apostles said “Tell me when, Lord“
and they let the bombs drop when they thought they’d heard the call.
And so they soared and fell aimlessly
Put Men’s dreams and aspirations to rest
Many fled destinationless across the open wasteland
But as much as they ran, they only died tired
As the rapture swallowed the children of God
The Selected Few were rushed to the Ragnarok
Shed their final tears, bid their farewells
And tachyons propelled them upwards into infinity
Uncertain whether the prototype would take them safely
Throughout the vast emptiness of space
The remnants of humanity began anew elsewhere.
We’ve found Eden adrift in the cosmos
Made Home out of a guest house
Vowed to learn from our mistakes
Built a colony out of peace
Taught our children of our shortcomings
Showed them how to be compassionate
Planted the seeds of prosperity
Let them reap what we sow
They’ve grown into good people
The colony’s spread wide over this green orb
Resources abound, but let us not be hasty
Thus we harvest consciously
Mother, here speaks Jóhann
I record this entry bearing a heavy heart
Let it be known that I took no part in the call
But, alas, my fellow Elders outnumbered me.
In the wake of many an unauthorized interplanetary explorations of our sons and daughters
My own included (I gasp for air in tears);
The rogue squad’s been cast out of the heavens
And thrust below onto the icy deserts of Cygnus
Alma, my dear daughter
I hid provisions, tools and instructions on their craft
Left her all that is my own
For I know my vendetta is doomed to punishment
But so should their sins, so should their unforgiving ideals
So should their short memories on when we turned our backs on one another
Maybe it is nature and not circumstance after all
That demands we keep falling after rising
But I believe in our children more than I do in us
Soaked in red I shall watch them take off
Lift above into a fate that’s only theirs to command
As for me, I’ll accept mine
And in shackles and dirt I will smile
We were puritans.
They are pilgrims.
This is it.
From these snowy dunes we’ve made Home
Apart from our ancestors idealism
In truth, contact’s scant
But they were the ones who made their own beds.
In little more than a century
Cygnus has grown into a galactic powerhouse
Set colonies in the nearest planets and keeps growing
At last a seemingly balanced society.
An empire, I say.
We’ve warmed our houses from the cold
With love, care, devotion
Resources abound, technology abounds
Exploration, harvests, expansion, everyday words
Oh the joy of thriving!
Our force is unstoppable.
No object is immovable.
So we took the Gods’ fire
And lit the dark at last.
Do you know how empires thrive?
Let me tell you how.
When power corrupts the purest of men
And hammers fall from Gods’ hands
When generations draw lines in the sand
Then stomp them, waste away, then draw again.
And history, so they say, can’t be washed away
But without memory, is there such a thing anyway?
So they rewrite the books, or rather adaptations
And trap us here in distant constellations.
But let us not speak in tongues or riddles
Orion is but a supplier for Cygnus
Our children are but cogs in the wheel
Too crooked and weary to be concealed.
Not any longer, alas.
An atomic messiah, they say, has been born,
From this void of burning sand, forlorn
Skin red, eyes pale, grip tight, anger harnessed
A tidal change in a dry land so tarnished
Oh magnus imperium, look up and see:
From here on out, war shall break upon thee
Not out of some renewable fallacy
But out of a defining prophecy:
“The reign of the oppressors shall end under a crimson sky through the fists of a Messiah of Ire, and the Empire shall collapse upon itself and bring forth a new dawn for Men. Thy god cometh from Orion.”
No soul shall be spared.
22 years of bloody war.
And what for?
All we’ve ever known and loved,
Pushed to the brink of annihilation
The families that never were again
The children that never reached the age of reason
While we did… yet this was what we chose.
The shame and the embarrassment tell no lies.
We thought that, if we began anew
We could right our nature’s wrongs
We had learned so much…
And remembered so little…
The Andromeda Treaty dictates
That all people live life as they so desire
That all dreams and values be reached effortlessly
In a vast network of wires and electricity
Each to his own world of perfection.
Because, they say, reality is irrelevant
It is what you experience that matters
Every soul is now equal in chances
Everyone gets what one believes to deserve
All us rebels were hunted
Brought before the Wires
Plugged in against our will
And what would you know?
They were right!
What’s the point of living if things don’t go your way?
If our nature is cruel?
If the world is unfair?
If suffering is required?
If conflict is unavoidable?
If promises are broken?
If wholeness is unattainable?
There’s no point, is there?
So just give in.
Give in with us.
Like the rest of us.
Be one of us.
Or be no one at all.
Be nothing at all.
Nothing at all.
No h ng a a l.
No g a