REINCARNATION

It was the first night he dreamed about being a fish.

The building which the rebels held for seventy-one days was all in flames, but some other people armed with stones and sticks attacked police stations in the city.

Delightful feeling of the dream vanished in the news. No, they did not have only stones and sticks, they’ve got hold of some system similar to multi-D-plus, they could apparently alter the reality around their enemies, but only for a short while. Stupid cops didn’t understand at first, but he saw it immediately – before he turned them all off. The only result will be another nasty traffic jam and nothing more.

When on one of the following nights the dream came back, he woke up with a clear feeling that something of vital importance has happened to him. By then he was going to work by circuitous routes, avoiding places of street fighting; it was an ordeal for his nerves, but that morning he was driving happily, as if he had done a good job. The feeling had certainly nothing to do with his real job, which lately – he couldn’t tell at which exact moment or how did it happen – he began to regard as meaningless, if not harmful. Not his fault though. And he could say the same about the jobs of most of the people he knew. No wonder those guys resorted to sticks.

Awakening the third time from the same dream, he remembered every detail: the wonderful feeling of weightless freedom and perfect understanding of the world, his shimmering skin surrounded by the liquid light in a perpetual breathtaking change, his body with no superfluous weight, constantly washed by seawater that was bringing particles of the sky… He felt too good about what he had been in the dream, and too bad about what he was again, to go work that day. The city was quite a mess, and it was easy to assume he got stuck in one of the blocked quarters. Feeling comfortable with that excuse, he let his thoughts go freely, but since they kept coming back to that elusive dream, he headed for a little walk through virtual stores.

He wanted to buy a device that would allow him to return to his dream every night. Why wouldn’t such a thing exist, there are surely many people who would love to buy it? Perhaps indeed there is such a thing, but he was working too much and didn’t have time to hear about it. True, a commercial would certainly have got through to him, but perhaps the thing is still in the experimental stage? No, he is not an irrational person and knows that such thinking is very arbitrary, but he’s not more resistant to the temptation of accepting his desires as reality than anyone else either – therefore, with a wry inward smile, he kept wandering through the shops searching for novelties.

And so it happened that he stumbled on an offer of worldviews and halted there for a while. He did not have a definite opinion about the world and his place in it, and at this point he would have found most acceptable some system of beliefs that would divide people into the essentially scaly or furry. But as he wandered among the worldviews on the special offer, the idea that he could find a solution to his problem there was becoming more and more compelling. (And maybe this was a result of the sophisticated ad, which followed him, flattered him and nestled around, at times managing even to grow some ephemeral fins waving before his eyes.)

“Choose, choose, of your own free will, according to your own special needs, choose a worldview that suits you!”

At some point, though, he got irritated by the voice of the ad, discerning a condescending tone in it. He changed its register but did not leave the shop. Instead, he headed for the depths. At the end of the day he knew: all programs are associated with certain chemicals, transferred directly by the latest version of m-streaming; they can cause a permanent reaction, but it is also possible to choose a trial period lasting from 10 to 90 days. Free counter informed him that he referred most frequently to the program under the label of “reincarnation”, therefore he immersed himself in the specifications of that thing.

Belief: The soul is essentially clean. Taking a body it becomes impure and must go through the cycle of birth and death.

Cycle, fine, but why would a soul wish to take a body in the first place? He pondered about the question for a while, but then he thought it would be explained later and read on.

After a body dies, the soul passes into another one, not randomly, but according to the merit of the deceased. Each of your actions will bring fruit some day; you will feel the consequences of your deeds either in this or in a future life.

At that point he almost gave up. Why would anyone want to believe that the world is a system of penalties and rewards?

Your next life you may enter either as a man, as a god or as an animal –

Ah yes, finally, that’s it! An animal! A fish!

– until you quit all adherence and accomplish the final liberation.

The word “adherence” definitely felt strange. But he guessed every belief had some strange words to it –

And here are the reasons why the soul is given a new body: that it could be submitted to the consequences of its acts, this is the most common reason; to quench its thirsts in this world of illusion; to return some debt, in a good or a bad way; to be submitted to the suffering it deserved offending one of the Great; to be purified and finally leave the world.

To quench his thirst in this world of illusion … well, that seems acceptable.

He did not have a lot of patience and did not read much further, but what he read was good enough. He opted for a trial-version and had only to decide just how many days would be sufficient for a complete experience of this worldview. He had some doubts about its authenticity, although the shop proudly exhibited its certificates. Still it seemed funny that anyone could have ever believed in such a thing just like that, out of the blue; for such a belief would make death desirable to some extent, at least as a change. He never thought about death as something desirable, that is, when he was thinking about it at all, having learned, as everybody else, to assume that it would be abolished during his lifetime. But then again, he remembered learning as well that all indigenous beliefs were equally valuable and in equally realistic correlation with reality.

Ten days, that would be enough.

During the trial period there were no drastic changes in his life. He went to work as usual, only once, inadvertently, he got into the open space between fighting groups and it was a miracle he managed to get away unharmed. Afterwards, he heard that one of those fragile truce-agreements was in effect on that morning.

During the trial period he dreamed he was a fish only once and woke up as happy and unhappy as before. He thought how all this was really weird, because he had no previous experiences with fish, the only thing he could remember about them was a feeling of restraint, some sort of leaden musing, when he found himself in front of a whole fish on a plate.

Awakening on the eleventh day was much less comfortable than on the previous ten. It seemed that the world disintegrated into incoherence, into a series of unrelated and meaningless phenomena; he felt his skin tightening and becoming too small, and several times that morning he was seized with a sensation of suddenly collapsing into an abyss. At work, he disregarded the rules and secretly glanced at the worldviews shop. Possible side effects after a trial period include – Well, then, everything was fine with him and the world. He should just wait for side-effects to fade away and then decide. But everything wasn’t so fine with the world. Later that day, all connections were cut down several times, causing significant changes in the market. Someone suggested that these data were not worth much anyway because the rebels had the control of a part of the bases for some time now and were deliberately creating confusion. But he could not really believe that.

He was going home tired of all the chaos at work and the panic attacks that still wouldn’t stop, he was driving through a freshly cleaned neighbourhood reading the inscriptions written on the walls by the rebels and not yet removed… Fight for a better world… The words caught his thoughts and he wondered for a while if he wanted a better the world, and what that could mean for him… But no, the world in general cannot get any better, it’s always bad and good in the same proportion. All he wants is to be a fish. Saltwater fish.

When the panic attacks finally stopped, he asked for a day off. Choosing a worldview is not a trivial thing and it deserves some time of peaceful reflection. He knew that his request would not meet with the approval, especially after he had been absent on that day only two weeks ago, but he made the most of the poor visual coverage of his neighbourhood and somehow threw everything upon objective circumstances.

All in all, he wasn’t dissatisfied with the experience of believing in the circle of rebirth and everything that came with it; even now, when chemicals were no longer active, he felt almost ready to believe in reincarnation. But he was not quite satisfied either. What bothered him when he first read the specification was still causing doubt; it was nice that there was a choice of worldviews, it was an undeniable step forward for the civilization, but shouldn’t there be a possibility of choice within the option of “reincarnation” as well? For the choice is a far more advanced concept than that of punishment and reward. He decided to write a letter to the store.

Dear Sir, We have received your complaint and after consulting our experts, we can answer the following: indigenous belief in reincarnation in all historical forms does not have the option “choice”. Excessive deviation from the original beliefs drastically reduces the realism of their correlation with reality. The belief exposed to such proceedings loses its value. Therefore, adhering to the professional level of our trade, we cannot satisfy your desire for an added option with options. Sincerely, the team.

Historical forms? Well, he might research some historical precedents and modify his request a little bit.

Hello, thank you for your prompt and thorough answer. I realize that you cannot, at least in the current state of affairs, introduce an option with options, but perhaps it might be possible to introduce an option of purchase. As you are probably well aware, the world operates on the principles of the free market, and it does not seem out of place introducing the possibility that a customer buys a form of reincarnation according to his preferences and material possibilities (with the possible partial restriction in the sense that the chosen form cannot be human twice in a row, although this does not seem quite necessary). I think that a possible objection about this not being in accordance with indigenous beliefs is easy to refute, if we only take a look at the history of spiritual and material transactions in human societies, form the investing in lavish constructions of the numerous buildings of worship, maintaining a wide variety of professional priests, starting and making wars in order to buy eternal life of one kind or another, up to the direct purchase of indulgences and rituals, i. e. simple transactions within the monetary system. Please consider my proposition as soon as possible, and let me know about a possible introduction of additional program of “reincarnation with choice”.

It was a very nice scholarly letter; he read it several times even after he had sent it. But it did not get him a satisfactory answer. Just a few austere words thanking him for his interest and informing him once again that at the moment there were no worldviews available but those which could be seen in their offer. They kindly suggested he had a look at all options again, assured that he would find something that would suit him. He turned off all video exits and went to sleep with a single desire to go back to his dream.

Well, he thought the next day, I’ll buy that worldview. And before doing it, he should just find out some procedure that would make the sum of his deeds in this life cause the fish incarnation in the next one.

Having quite given up going to work, he did not hurry anywhere anymore. He had contracted deliveries until the end of the month, and although the situation in the city deteriorated again – it was hard to understand the logic of those blockades – the food arrived regularly.

There must have been someone somewhere with a similar problem, he thought, plunging into a new research with much confidence. And indeed there were people in this world who wanted a certain body for their future life (to his amazement, mostly human body), but he never encountered any method that would seem at least somewhat reliable. The only unquestionable thing was the hierarchy of beings and the hierarchy of good and bad deeds – but he would probably find out more about those and their interconnections when he finally buys the program. He got a little angry at himself for not having done it already and immediately returned to the store. Next night, while the chemicals were slowly starting to work, he dreamed his sweet dream again.

In the morning, yes, everything was much clearer: the animals are lower forms of life than humans, the smaller the animal the lower a place on the scale. But his passion for the fish-being didn’t lessen because of that (And how could we explain it? By an error in the program?). Humans are pretty high on the list, which means that the human incarnation is the result of good deeds, and animal of less good ones. The question was, what sort of deeds prevailed in his life. He thought and thought and he could not think of anything bad. So, it seemed very likely that he would be reincarnated as a higher form of life, perhaps even a lesser divinity. And that wouldn’t suit him at all. A simple solution imposed itself: he must do something really bad in order to increase his chances. But what should be the exact degree of badness?

That day the food delivery did not come. He hardly noticed, putting the data of his past life and possible future deeds in various tables, trying to establish a reliable scoring system.

Food delivery did not come the next day either. And although that was not yet a problem, he wondered what was happening. He was surprised when he let the news in and saw that the rebels were holding his building. How was it possible that he wouldn’t notice? And why would they be here? Remembering, however, who lived in his building, he thought that it would not be surprising after all – if it were true. This news gave him a wonderful excuse, in the case he decides to go back to work when that supposed siege is over. But the thought of returning to his job was quite repulsive.

In whatever way he arranged the deeds – and his new worldview was very useful in qualifying them – he was constantly colliding with the same problem: in his current position it was not possible to do anything bad, indeed, it was not possible to do almost anything at all. He should go out and get some weapon, it would give him a chance.

Again, he took a glance at the possibilities of orders and deliveries, but they were not so great, implying all sorts of conditions that he mostly did not meet; and besides, who knows how long he would have to wait for his arms in the actual circumstances. Poison is a better option, he concluded; so he would have at least some benefit from his formation and knowledge about various harmful substances, some of them available over-the-counter. He got ready for some shopping in the real world, a little tired of being closed in the apartment so long and a little hungry. But as soon as he opened the door, he collided with hooded men who ordered him to go back in. Not wanting to risk death while he was not sure of the future, he obeyed.

But it all made him exceedingly angry: his own incompetence, the lack of food delivery, those people outside perpetually creating problems. All people, actually.

He sought solace in sleep, but that night the gods did not fulfill his wish.

He woke up in the middle of the night and after trying to sleep in vain for some time, he took a rational approach to the problem: review everything in the fridge, use his own resources.

Of all the things he found a jar of baby corn seemed the most promising. True, he was careful about his food, but this thing was open – because the cover fell and rolled somewhere where he could not be bothered to look for it – for ten days at least. He put the contents of the jar under the strongest light he had and sought out a magnifying glass. For a long time he did not use that obsolete tool, it’s a sheer luck he didn’t throw it away. On the small screen the names were appearing in a slow flow: Aspergius, Fusarium … well, that might do… what else… Zearalenone, a thing with wonderful name, but inefficient… next… Salmonella… Staphylococcus aureus, another one with a nice name, it should not be there actually… Oh, here it is: Clostridium botulianum. Well, now he needs some kind of meat. Or cheese. He found both, but he rather ate the cheese (chewing with a small disgust, thinking of all the things he would probably see on that cheese through the magnifier). He cut out the pieces of corn with the highest concentration of Clostridium and distributed them over the meat. Happy to find a half-full bottle of milk he threw the rest of the corn it in. Now he just had to have patience, because he won’t get the sufficiently strong concentration for a week at least.

He examined his edible reserves and concluded that with a rational approach he can survive as long as necessary. But as he looked at the half-empty box of rice and a small packet of pasta, his stomach crumpled hungrily. Well, he will prepare something very nutritious for a start, and pray… to whom? Names of the deities were not well anchored in his memory yet… but he’ll take advantage of the waiting time to deepen the knowledge of his beliefs.

For one week he was sailing through the sea of stories. Perhaps he would even have extended the waiting time, if only he weren’t getting so hungry.

Checking on the status of his microorganisms, he was very pleased. And only then he remembered that all the water collectors and purifiers were probably under a special protection. He decided to go back to work, reactivate his e-identity one last time and write a fake work order for himself.

He was getting ready to go out, trying to look like the rebels. It was not easy with his wardrobe, but these people shouldn’t be narrow-minded. After all, it could be said that he was on their side, in his way. He found an old lunch box that he luckily didn’t throw away either. In the given circumstances it’s reasonable to be carrying his own meal to work, that should be clear to everyone. Carefully and beautifully he wrapped his poisonous meat and put it in the box.

He met nobody in the hallway, and the street seemed deserted as well. Piles of broken things and garbage were lying around, as if some tidal wave had passed through the town bringing rubbish. But everything was quiet. He took a quick glance at the news and I saw that some kind of negotiations started again the day before; that a part of the city was impassable, and his neighbourhood evacuated. It was all very convenient, and he concluded the gods were on his side. At the curb several bodies were lying covered with white cloth. He heard some shots, but by then he was already in his vehicle. Of course, he thought, another failed truce.

Carefully driving toward the business district he could clearly imagine the near future: the situation is finally calming down, people are dying from unknown causes, and it seems that the good old plague is back in town.

(from the book hanging sheep-stealers, a novel, translated by the author; on the photo part of an artwork by Manulea Pauk)