Chapter 19 - Empyrean Glossa
“Lilian told you how it was that the tablets ended up in my hands, correct? Of the Sillum, his enslavement of the local population, and his failed attempt to bring his god’s minions into this world?”
“Yes,” said Ben, “and she said that the Nisirtu who found the tablets shipped them to Argentina to a society building or something like that. A few centuries ago.”
“Actually, it wasn’t a few centuries ago. It was fifteen centuries ago,” said Ridley.
Ben laughed mirthlessly. “There was no contact between South America and Europe or Africa at that time.”
Ridley shrugged. “No Ardoon contact, but we, the Nisirtu, were present on every continent at that time. You say that is impossible, but is it not also impossible that we should be able to forecast all world events before they happen?”
He’s got you there, Ben.
Ridley continued, “In fact, the Nisirtu who stumbled upon the ceremony was a scribe, like me. He shipped the tablets and his report back to Queen Sodietti, then the ruler of the Fifth Kingdom, who, being a skeptic, had the tablets thrown into a vault. She wrote off the Tiwanaku episode as unscripted Ardoon civil unrest. That would have been the end of it had not King Sargon, Lilian’s father, stumbled upon the scribe’s account and the tablets during a restoration of one of his residences in Argentina some twenty-odd years ago.”
Ridley lowered his chin. “Packaged with the tablets was an unopened scroll that contained the scribe’s theories regarding how the Sillum gained control of the locals. The scribe believed, based on his interview with the Sillum’s followers and others, that the stranger had been gifted with what the scribe called the Empyrean Glossa.”
Ben helped himself to the bottle of whiskey Ridley kept on a nearby table. As he poured, he said, “Language of the Heavens?”
Ridley nodded. “Let us just refer to it as Empyrean. The scribe suggested that Empyrean was the primal language of all sentient beings - a language that is hardwired into our consciousness. It is our animal language.”
“I don’t understand what that means.”
“Animals are born with languages. They are not learned. A dog’s bark in one nation is understood by a dog raised in another. The mating call of a bird on one continent is understood by a bird of the same species born on another. The languages are inherent to the species.”
“I’d hardly call a dog’s bark a language, Ridley. A form of communication, yes, but not a language.”
“A form of communication then,” allowed the other man. “It is not a perfect analogy, I admit. In any event, the scribe suggested that the language spoken by the Sillum was the language that nature, or the gods, intended humans and other self-aware beings to use. It is thus the language not only of the angels, demons, and gods but also of the Adams and Eves.”
“A single language spoken by everyone?” Ben swirled his drink. “I don’t like it. That would put me out of work.”
Ridley chuckled. “Yes, and because the language is primal, it would be the language that all human communication descended from. It would be perfect, which means that extremely difficult concepts that would take thousands of words in a derivative or diluted language like Spanish or English could be expressed in Empyrean in far fewer. Perhaps as few as one or two.”
“One or two?”
“Yes, if they were the right words. Words that you and I cannot comprehend because they carry so much meaning. Words worth a thousand pictures. A speaker would not only express himself perfectly, he would be able to convince any listener who did not speak Empyrean to do or believe anything. The speaker could, in a few syllables, send a listener into panic, or the throngs of ecstasy, or into a rage.”
Ben shook his head. “Again, I don’t follow you.”
The sage explained. “All humans are persuadable. Politicians are experts at persuading people, as are dictators, propagandists, lawyers, writers, poets, salesmen, priests, advertisers, and marketers. They use words and images to convince listeners to believe what they want them to believe or to feel what they feel. People can even be convinced they saw something that never happened. Yet this takes time. Hours, week, months, or, in the case of advertisers, sometimes years.
“In contrast, a speaker of Empyrean would need only seconds because his ideas would be perfectly expressed. They would therefore register as uncontestable truths to any who heard them.”
“Oh, I get it,” replied Ben. “You’re talking about the power of suggestion taken to the umpteenth degree. Essentially, a form of instant hypnosis. That’s how the legendary Sillum turned the king’s guards against him and enslaved his population. He spoke Empyrean.”
“Yes, and thus whatever he said was real became real in the minds of his listeners. Whatever he told them to do, they were compelled to do. The listeners were simply unequipped mentally to challenge the perfectly formed concepts he put into their minds.”
“But,” objected Ben, his glass in the air, “If all sentient beings are gifted with the Empyrean Glossa, why doesn’t everyone still speak it?”
The old man scratched the back of his neck and said, “It’s difficult to say. Presumably a perfect language would require a lot of brainpower. It could be that humans somehow evolved away from it - perhaps our brains were put to better use learning how to make fire or hunt wild boar. Perhaps, for some unknowable reason, the ability to tap the language has been denied us by some outside force.”
Ben said, “If the language contained within the inscriptions is Empyrean, what is the writing system? The etchings?”
Ridley shook his head. “No writing system for an imperfect language could possibly capture the fullness of Empyrean, and there would be no reason for such a writing system to exist prior to the Empyrean. In this instance, the language and the writing system are of the same essence. They were born together. Both are perfect.”