Chapter 15
Jakugo

The fire lasted four days. During this time, the rag-tag assembly had separated and each one tried valiantly to help people one by one, with some arguable success. All of them had encountered the fire and its repercussions, and all were struggling to comprehend the magnitude of the suffering they had witnessed before them. And now they stood in the evening on the bank of the Marin Headlands, wondering what to do.

Sarah had found herself in the throes of a fledgling love for Michio that she could not explain nor express. Her rationale was one of finding a counterpart to her calm persona, which had returned now that her purpose in wandering had been fulfilled; his tendency to undergo periods of anxiety and manic creativity was paradoxically comforting to her, for she did not feel many such impulses and needed a constant source of change in order to stay sane. He, on the other hand, could benefit from her stability, or so she felt. It was not possible to say what would come of this, for their story thus far had been enigmatic and brief.

Alice, too, had found her complement in the pragmatism of Bernard’s scientific pursuits that could stand beside her own humanist views. She and Bernard had both realized the solution to the problem of their future’s loss of charismatin, but did not speak of it to the young, burgeoning couple, for such things were best left to take their own course. It seemed to already be a foregone conclusion, but they were patient, and did not fear that their continued prosperity was at risk.

She and the others were wrapped in their own thoughts when a unnaturally brisk wind picked up from the west. Even without any predetermined coordination, all eyes turned to the pane of glass from the lighthouse.

Not one or two but eight figures suddenly appeared at the gateway. The blue-haired girl, Sarah’s mother and father, Mr. and Mrs. Muratani, Kazoru, Michelle, and Paul all stepped into a line to the great shock of both Sarah and Michio. Unperturbed, Alice and Bernard stepped over to stand with them and face the two young artists with great smiles.

Without moving, the girl with marvelously pale hair seemed to come forward a little from the crowd, and she began to speak. “My friends. I believe we have not been properly introduced, in a certain sense of the term. I am Mnemosyne, daughter of Gaia and mother of the nine muses, here incarnated in some of the people you have come to know.”

Michelle stepped forward. “I am Calliope, muse of epic poetry.”

Paul came to the front. “Euterpe, muse of music.”

“Polyhymnia, sacred poetry.” Mr. Muratani declared amiably. “Tell me, Sarah, did I make a good bank teller?”

Mrs. Muratani stood beside him. “I am Erato, muse of lyric poetry,” she said with a deferential glance and a curtsey.

“Terpsichore, muse of dance,” said Sarah’s mother.

Sarah’s father grinned. “Thalia, muse of comedy. And I must say we’re very proud of you.”

Kazoru, still wearing his mask, said “I possess the spirit of Melpomene, muse of tragedy. Michio, I am proud to say that you have not failed me yet!”

“Clio, muse of history,” said Alice matter-of-factly.

“And I am Urania, muse of astronomy,” said Bernard. “Of course, you know that we all have other duties as well, but these are our titles. However, Mnemosyne is the only one of us who espouses no other identity.”

“That is because I have to be fully aware of myself in order to awaken the powers of the muses, of course,” she added. “I am the goddess of memory as well as the keeper of the celestial lighthouse, and now we must reveal our intention.”

Sarah and Michio were both too astonished by this turn to speak. It seemed impossible that all of these people that they had known were really imbued with the spirits of the muses. But they were obliged to hear Mnemosyne out, not knowing what else to do.

“It may or may not surprise you to find that in the 22nd century, humanity had convinced itself that it had discovered a gene that regulated the ability of human beings to communicate with one another psychically, and believed it to be linked to success in creative endeavor as well as in interpersonal relationships. This gene coded for a protein they dubbed ’charismatin,’ for its apparent compelling emotional effect on anyone who was exposed to someone who possessed it.

“They believed that the more expression one had of this gene, even sterile media of communication such as text and digital images could carry its psychic effects over into other people’s minds. While this is a nice thought, it is perhaps amusing how fervently they supported it, without realizing that it made little to no sense.”

“This folly is one that I must admit to perpetuating before I was awakened to my other nature,” Bernard interjected.

“Their one success, inputting the genetic code for charismatin into a neural network to create artificial intelligence, was actually entirely caused by the strength of belief that the originator put into his notion, and the resulting changes in the program wrought by telekinesis and sheer power of will. The essential point is this; genetics have nothing to do with creative success in the arts, and that success does indeed have power through purely mass-produced or electronic media, but this is simply because it is good art that happened to be transmitted via such means,” Mnemosyne continued. “Believing or not in the actual psychic ability possessed by humans I leave to your discretion, but the fact of the matter is that works of art and the human spirit have nothing to do with one single protein, and to think so is a dangerous business.”

Michio stared at her in incomprehension, while Sarah stared in wonder.

“I will leave you with three final things to ponder. First: you are destined to one day bear a child whose grandson is in turn destined to make the discovery of the ’charismatin’ gene. This discovery will cause wars and death that will eventually lead to a utopian society based on a form of lie regarding human nature. Is it better for humanity to live thinking that its destiny is ruled by genetics, or for society to take its course in the same way that it has, but without the delusion of gene-based creativity which was bound to eventually collapse?

“Second: if in fact there was never any substance to the theory of charismatin, was there any purpose in Alice and Bernard attempting to guide you two together?”

“And third, the jakugo; this is my capping phrase to the koan you have been presented with all your lives.”

Sarah and Michio breathed in awe as the woman assumed a fierce glow from within, her skin and bones vanishing to reveal a incandescent network of blood vessels and a pumping heart.

The newly refulgent Mnemosyne glanced at her spiritual children, and one by one they returned to their respective realms, back in their roles and disguises to guide the remainder of the world. The young couple spent a long time looking at each other, oblivious and not needing the hopelessly inadequate medium of speech to say what was necessary. As one, they tapped the pane for the lighthouse, and held their hands close to the top of the great lens about the lamp without touching. Floating as they bathed in the light of the aurora, they felt the fire of creation brimming inside their bodies, preparing to reveal itself in new and stranger ways that were yet more beautiful than any before. At last, they touched the lamp and were gone.

She smiled, noting that they had not stayed to heed her final message. “In the dark I lost sight of my shadow; I’ve found it again by the fire I lit.” E-mail: vokuro@adelphia.net