The Lotus Flower

Pilot: 4853.

Newborn Name: LOTUS EATER

As I stepped inside Oratorium, I heard his soft prayers coming from the center of the room, and the nearly audible words found their way into my ears, whispers that felt like wind shifting the sands of a desert.

I called him by his Trueborn name.

"John..." - I said softly. He didn't care to reply, as he was deep within himself, meditating on a passage I had heard before, but don't remember exactly where:

"I was driven thence by solar winds, for a space of 9 million years...."

The dark and crystal-hard architecture of Oratrium made every sound feel like a secret whispered directly into my ear.

"John" - I repeated a little bit louder, but he didn't stop reciting the passage:

"...Which was so delicious that those who ate of it, stop caring about home."

I reached the center of Oratorium, and in this place of low ceilings and long echos, I sat beside him. The chamber of each pilot was different, each designed to emulate an environment where they could spend some time without their suits, Oratorium was John's.

"I care about home Mel, but I won't come back, not as Odysseus did." - his voice was deep and rough, it felt like sandpaper brushing against my skin.

"I know John..." - I replied.

"I have heard 1348's prayer..."The Pilots Prayer" she called it. I consider it appropriate, I think I will also recite it... when the moment comes."

Since the beginning, John had been a massive project that required massive assets; impressive amounts of funding, hundreds of scientists specializing in a dozen of fields, and some of the biggest pieces of equipment I've ever seen. And his massive size was the result of all these investments.

Every exhalation he made felt as powerful as the lungs of a whale pushing tons of water through its nostrils, every inhalation just as strong. His face was always in the shadows, most pilots don't like to show their faces. His arms were as big as a gorilla´s and as strong as the front legs of a polar bear, like the rest of his body. I never knew exactly how to feel around him, in that dark, glimmering cave. Mostly I felt at peace, followed by sudden but brief moments of panic.

"I heard some rumors about the prayer among the other caretakers, every pilot is talking about it, but apparently, non of you wants to share it with us...would you share it with me John?" - I asked.

"No." - He responded, and he gently rested his massive hand over the right shoulder pad of my pressurized suit. Although gentle, his hand was so heavy that I could feel the pressure of my suit suddenly increase. One of those brief moments of panic started to creep out from my heart into my bloodstream. If John accidentally ripped my suit, the atmosphere of Oratorium would collapse my lungs, keeping me from breathing until an emergency team came in to get me. They wouldn't take long, but the experience wouldn't feel great either.

I paralyzed.

"Mel, you wouldn't understand, and neither would the other caretakers. You are not leaving home, you don't need to hear 1348´s words." He let my shoulder go, and the pressure in my suit (and the pressure gripping my heart in panic), regained its normal parameters.

It took me a few seconds to recover, but I decided to stop wasting time:

"Okay. Then, straight to business: Pilot 4853. Status." - I said.

John put himself on his feet, straight and heavy as a monolith, and opened his arms, palms facing upwards. He inhaled and exhaled a total of three times, and each time his breathing became deeper and deeper. The acoustics of the architecture made his exhalation techniques sound like giant waves crashing against the walls and selling of Oratorium.

I turned my eyes to the section of my visor displaying john´s physiological and psychological data. With every respiration, his muscles got more relaxed, and his cerebral activity became more and more controlled; the brain diagram that before showed erratic and random blinking dots of light populating the frontal cortex of the brain, now showed what resembled a purposefully driven laser dot, traveling through the brain diagram; going from the frontal cortex to the cerebellum, and traveling through the temporal lobes. Finally, every dot of light gathered in the center of the brain, and position itself over the diagram that indicated the amygdala...

"Reaching Genome... Opening DNA library... Selecting sequences to analyze. Caretaker, I need your Input." - He inhaled and exhaled deeply.

"Analyze DNA sequences modified by Cetacea and Harriotta Raleighana mRNA's."

"Analyzing. I feel the rate of conversion underperforming Caretaker; Cetacea replication feels close to minus ten percent. For Harriotta... minus eighteen percent." - He inhaled and exhaled, this time his breathing was slower and even deeper.

I could tell he knew the feedback these results would bring.

"Okay John, let´s move to the physical layer." - I thought.

"Pilot 4853, analyze the progress of Atavism Activation in modified organ systems."

"Analyzing. Atavism Activation is progressing, for now. Bone and muscle reconfiguration is ongoing... Caretaker I am starting to feel anxious, concentration is difficult to maintain."

"Noted, take a deep breath 4853, we are almost done. Proceed to analyze mRNA percentage." - He inhaled and exhaled, this time it felt shallower and some dots of light started to migrate to other parts of the brain diagram displayed over my visor. I caught a glimpse of his heart beating faster under his translucent skin.

"mRNA is very low, under two percent, I am sure Caretaker." - More lights started to appear over the brain diagram, and now I could hear his heart beating even faster.

"Thank you. Pilot 4853, break concentration." - I saw John's muscles starting to relax, his heartbeat beginning to ease, and the dots of light indicating his brain activity regained their normal patterns. John had resurfaced.

"Welcome back John, I have your feedback; First off, you need to increase your mRNA intake to maintain the correct rates of conversion in your DNA and maintain the correct Atavism Activation progress. Have you been eating the correct doses?".

"No. As I told you before, I don't want to leave home, Mel."

"That takes me to my second piece of feedback. Your self-control and self-regulation are in top shape, but you are still afraid to leave home John, the pain of leaving will be bearable. You need to work on your belief systems, if you lose resolve out there, your fate will be sealed... What is fear? John, What will keep you safe?"

"Fear makes me blind, Understanding will keep me safe and help me negotiate with my fate" - Said, John.

"This is exactly true John. And please, go back to eating the correct doses... Yes, they will make you forget, but they will also increase mRNA percentage and rate of physiological reconfiguration."

John sat again on the floor and extended his right arm to reach a black bowl placed near his left foot, and from the bowl, he took a bunch of the beautiful white flowers and smelled them softly.

"And the Lotus-eaters did not plan death for my comrades, but gave them of the lotus to taste." - Said john after smelling them.

Our DNA makes all of us unique, but unlike most of us are taught in school, unlocking the full potential of our uniqueness requires bartering, and few of us are ready to accept the proper exchange. For John, to become a pilot means to trade himself, and forget home to become something more.

I saw the flowers disappear into the shadow covering John's face, I took it as the confirmation that he would keep eating the correct doses and keep moving forward with the project. Respectfully, I vowed in his direction and left Oratorium.

Before he started the path to become a pilot, John had managed to find peace in a house deep in the forests of the north, breeding his huskies, but his unique DNA sequence made him the only choice... and for some reason unknown to me, he chose to volunteer for the project.