At least that's what everyone's always said, since the beginning of time I'm told. It's kind of difficult to believe now, though. It's a long story that all started a few weeks back.

Actually it started years ago, when the Priests took control under the Solar Federation. The Priests hold their lofty position high in the mountains of Syrinx, which lie just north of Megadon, where I live. Megadon is known as the center of the Federation, but Syrinx is where all the power lies.

The Priests can provide us with all we want (which they essentially do), and get their own way at the same time. They're really powerful looking people, just by sight. They always dress in these long, black robes -- almost religious looking but not quite. They all have long beards, too. I'm not sure why this is, but they've had them as long as I can remember, long black beards. Kind of a depressing sight, but definately awe-inspiring. They hand everything out from their position in the Temples of Syrinx and expect to get loads of praise for it. They usually do.

The Temples of Syrinx hold everything the heart and mind desire, and more. That's a statement you hear quite a bit in Megadon, and it's basically true. It's all there -- art, music, business, everything. The Temples, though their main deal here is supposed to be government, contain all of the city's museums, concert halls, art exhibits... everything artistic just thrown into one building.

I remember visiting the Temples with my wife Marcia about three months ago. Entering the Temples of Syrinx is an experience that can never be forgotten. The first thing that hits you when you walk in is the music. A crashing beat assaults your ears as soon as you enter. I guess that's probably the central part of all the Temple music. It's all got that strong beat, along with some high pitched sound; fast-moving and kind of drawn out at the same time. I can't really describe it too well -- it's something that has to be experienced to really understand. It is really great music, though.

Once you're inside, you notice just how huge these buildings are. There are huge walls in the place, a sort of light grey in color. There's basically one main hall in each of the three temples with passages branching off leading to the different arts. All the halls are kind of toned-down, if that makes any sense. The only thing that hits you when you walk in in the music -- there's no outlandish decoration, no powerful lighting... just the music.

At the end of the hall is a huge altar, colored black, which the Priests sit behind. There's something of a raised section in the back there, so the Priests have to look down on anyone who comes in to see them. It's no wonder that the people of Megadon are intimidated into praising the Priests. I even praised the Priests. I thought it was wonderful what they had done with the Federation. At least I thought that up until the event two weeks ago.

I told Mack, the plant supervisor, that I was leaving early, and headed out on Walking Route #3. It was a nice walk home, since the route was so deserted at this hour. I remember thinking to myself what a nice job the Priests had done with the artificial scenery -- trees, bushes... all sorts of landscape beauty. All shades of green, colorful flowers, a real work of art. I was thinking that it was almost as beautiful as some of the scenery in the Temples when something caught my eye.

The light was shining off of something under an artificial bush by the side of WR3. I couldn't think what could be breaking up the perfection of the Priests' work. I went over, pulled the bush out of the way and saw it. It was obviously not part of the scenery, but I reached out to touch it anyway. Thwaannggg! I jumped back about ten feet when the thing screamed out at me. I'd never even imagined anything like this.... I picked it up, being careful so it wouldn't make another sound, and carried it home with me to look at there.

"Marcia!" I called my wife when I got home. "Marcia, honey, come see what I've found!" I probably never entered the house more excited than when I brought home the object.

She answered me twice, using the same phrase: "What is it Steve?" The first time she didn't see the device in my hands and sounded bored as usual. Once she saw it, though, her tone changed entirely. "What is it, Steve?!"

I answered her second question. "I'm not exactly sure." Not sure at all, more likely. We talked about the strange device for days.

"Where do you think it came from, Steve?" Marcia would ask me.

"I don't know... I'm pretty sure it's not from the Priests, though. That's not really their style. They've always been striaghtforward, not secretive like this."

Marcia drove me crazy with all of her questions. "What do you think it's for?"

"I guess I'm not really sure. It probably has something to do with the noise it makes. I've got to figure it out." I spent hours at a time studying the thing. Marcia had to have been getting fed up with me. She'd ask me a question, I'd answer her quick and go back to studying it, or ignore her entirely. I slowly bacame possessed with the thing.

I studied it well. Pretty oddly shaped -- kind of like a big figure eight with a flat board coming out of the top (kind of like a neck). Wires are stretched across the length of the thing. The wires vibrate when I touch them, and produce beautiful music. That was key. The music I got from this thing was better than any Temple music ever produced. No crashing beat to accompany it. I wasn't restricted to fast high-pitched melodies. There were the high notes, of course, but I could produce low tones, feeling tones. Emotion. That was what came out of this thing, emotion.

"Show it to the Priests, Steve. Show it to them, they'll know what to do. Make a trip to the Temples of Syrinx, and show it to the Priests." Marcia wouldn't let me alone for ten minutes without bugging me with this. I argued with her about it at first. I just wasn't sure if it was right to bring it to them. I know they rule Megadon and everything, but I wasn't sure if they could possibly know what to do, since I was convinced it wasn't theirs. To get her to shut up, I finally agreed with her. Maybe it wasn't the right thing to do, but at least it got her away from me. I think she knew I agreed just so I could be alone with it again. I guess she was right, though.

After a while, I had a good enough song for the Priests. (What I didn't know at the time, though, was that it didn't matter). I entered the cold, grey Temples of Syrinx quickly -- it was finally time. The black robes, the black beards, the black altar, all greeted me readily. As for me, my speech was more than rehearsed and ready. "Most honored Priests of the Temples of Syrinx. I realize that it is a bit unorthodox to come before you like this, but I have discovered an amazing wonder that I decided would prove quite interesting to you all."

I know this probably sounds too formal, but for the Priests, it's just protocol. With this, I started playing. The song sounded better than ever before, echoing through the halls of the Temples. My voice wasn't even close to good enough to match the device, but I began to sing anyway.

"Feel my music," I urged them, in song, "hear what it has to say. It's life, it's love, it's feeling. Feel my music."

My hand slipped on the neck of the device when I heard the Priests' reaction. They conferred for a moment, and the rightmost beard began to twitch, then he spoke. "We already know of your ancient wonder," he told me, sneer in his voice, "and we have no need for it. Megadon is doing perfectly well without the ways of the ancient world. That device is nothing but a throwback to times when the people were helpless, slowly destroying their world."

I can't believe -- it's not possible! I didn't stop playing, as much as I may have wanted to, I believed in what I held. I only continued, with more energy than before. Maybe they didn't hear me, maybe they didn't understand me.

"Listen.... You must be able to hear, to understand, to feel what this has the ability to do. This is more than music, this is more than even you."

Maybe that last statement was too much, but I really beleived in everything I said. I was convinced that this music would be able to reach them. It never did reach them. "We have no use for an instrument of people from old times and old ways," the one beard grumbled, anger building in his voice, "Now begone, brother, and leave us to our work. Your silly whim is of no use for the greater good."

Silly whim. They actually called this beauty a silly whim. As if this wasn't bad enough, they turned up the music in the Temples to overpower my own playing. The rumbling beat rolled over my playing, crushing it soundly. It was no use. The fast wailing lines cut through my feeling music too easily. I finally dropped my hands and let the device dangle from a strap on my shoulder. I walked back out into the grey halls and sat on a grey bench, looking up at the tall grey ceiling. It was late at night when they finally had to kick me out of the Temples. I wandered home through the quiet night streets and fell into my bed.

I knew this thing had possessed me, but I just didn't care anymore. I looked out my window at the night sky, and I saw nothing but grey. The twin moons did nothing to light up the grey sky, or the grey buildings of Megadon. The city almost blends into the sky, leaving nothing to stand out, no single beacon, no guiding light.

Was all this left up to me? I slowly fell into a deep sleep, and left it to my dreams to answer my questions....

I stand at the top of a spiral staircase, looking down into a deep abyss. It's grey all around me, but nothing solid -- no ground, no sky, just grey with the blackness of the abyss below. An oracle meets me at the top of the stairs -- someone to guide me through the world of my dreams. Kind of stupid to have something like this, I think, but I follow the oracle away.

He leads me on away from my house, away from Megadon, away from the Temples of Syrinx. We travel for days, past the Outer Planets with their atmospheric domes, past places I've never even seen.

I see works of art better than anything ever seen in the Temples. Maybe it's just that they're not confined in the cold grey walls, but they produce feelings, too, like the device. There are paintings of the land around me, sculptures capturing life almost better than life itself, music better than any music ever created. It's true -- the device is true.

I also see people. People with enthusiasm, and open minds. Their eyes are open to see all the beauty around them, to create the beauty around them. They all have creative eyes, the ability to compose.

The oracle explains what I'm seeing. I don't see him speak, but I feel his words, his thoughts. These people are the same people who the Priests called "helpless." They are the Elder race. Long ago, they left Megadon, hoping to find more beauty. They hoped to learn more, to see more, to be more. Something which the Priests have prevented every Megadonian from achieving. Every day, this race grows stronger, building power to return and claim their home where they belong.)

I pray constantly that this dream was different from all my other dreams. Dreams usually fade away, but this one just can't. This dream is the only thing that can save Megadon.

But I begin to wonder if Megadon needs to be saved. I've lived with the Priests for so long.... Maybe it is the best way. They provide everything for us. Nothing needs to be worked for. There's no point in work....

But where is the ability to create? I can't be the only one who beleives in creative powers -- the power of the device. The Priests have taken all that away from us. They provide us with the art and culture that they want, their creativity -- squeezing any remaining bit of originality out of us. This can't be the way that it was meant to be.

But the Temples contain all the art that anyone could want. They're open to all Megadonians. Besides, there's the Temple Paper and Templevision for home culture and art. Maybe it's better leaving control of these things to the Priests. Things like these can get out of control, too much creativity might be bad. One man's creativity is another man's hatred. Art can be offensive to some and pleasing to others. It can all get out of hand, but not if it's in the proper hands.

But whose hands are proper? It can't be the Priests. Art is meant to stay with the people. The Elder race must have the answer. Keep the art with the people. The Priests are wrong. But what can I do about it? Does one man have the power to lead a revolution though music?

I think of the dream again, the abyss. The Elder race must return it's the only answer. The Priests are wrong, but I don't have the power to right that wrong. I stand at the edge of the abyss, looking downward to the depths of despair....

I can't tell what's happening from my home, but I can't leave, not now. Lights flash in through my window, but I can't see where they're coming from. There's a noise, a crashing beat. It must be battle. The dream must be coming true -- but who will win?

There's more and more sound coming from outside. My house shakes with a powerful force. The crashing beat continues. The light from the Twin Moons is dimmed by smoke -- I can see that much. Maybe the new moons are over -- maybe destruction of Megadon is here. Who will win?

It must be the Elder race, it has to be. Here to tear the Temples down, here to change the life of every person in the Solar Federation. The lights flash more quickly now, the smoke builds up outside. I can hardly see the Twin Moons anymore. The battle must be fierce -- two even forces? Who will win?

"Attention all planets of the Solar Federation.
Attention all planets of the Solar Federation.
Attention all planets of the Solar Federation.

We have assumed control.
We have assumed control.
We have assumed control."

 
     __
  /|/  \         |         Sensibility --
   |   |         |          Armed with Sense and Liberty,
   | _/          |_          With the Heart and Mind united
   / \ /|  | |\  | \          In a single, perfect Sphere
  /   X  \_/\/_\/   \_____        .-------------------.
 greed \ @chopin.udel.edu         : Glen "Trroy" Reed :
        \____                     `-------------------'