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Updated: May 27, 2025
This kampong is situated in a very extensive plain on the banks of a large river which empties itself into the straits of Malacca, and is said to be navigable for sloops to within a day's journey of Batang Onan. July 11th. Went to Panka-dulut, the raja of which place claims the property of the cassia-trees, and his people used to cut and cure the bark and transport it to the former place.
I looked at him and questioned, "Pure carbon? I have never heard of its having this use before." "Your civilization was long ago and had not developed it yet." "That has perplexed me, now that you mention it," I said, "Onan seemed to mean that I was going back in time to help my ancestors, but you say that I went forward, that I am one of the ancients."
My writing of this manuscript may be considered quite a big cheat, as it details my direct involvement with Onan, the Lord of the Past, and the general circumstances of the end of life on earth, for the current age at least, but still I am allowed to write it. Onan told me just a few moments ago that I could write it and tell all that I want, to which I was taken aback.
At first our ancestors grew to immense proportions, as did the vegetation on Daem, but we slowly returned to normal size as the radioactive material was consumed. I am surprised that Onan did not tell you about it all," he said, looking at me with a slight tinge of confusion creeping into his wayward eyes, formerly filled only with hope and excitement.
"All you have to do is join us, the Futurists, and we will reward you with all the power and glory that you can imagine." At that I sobered up and replied, "But what of Onan, of my quest to stop the doom of humanity from materializing in this final juncture. He is the one who sent me, and he is the Lord of the Past, whom the Canitaurs follow.
Onan laughed quietly and said, "History is not an unstoppable machine, allied with fate to control the destiny of all things past and future, nor does it nullify the power of man's freewill, yet the force that acts upon the minds of men to form them is history itself.
Onan was dressed the same as when I had last seen him, and Zimri was close in appearance, though his hair was long and his beard short, while Onan's were the opposite. Zimri wore a little blue-green frock that fit rather snuggly but not enough to be considered tight.
He went on soberly, saying: "The prophecy is concerning the kinsman redeemer, one of the ancients sent by Onan, the Lord of the Past, to redeem us from the destruction of this polluted world." "What do you mean by 'one of the ancients'?" I interjected questioningly. "Exactly what I said," Wagner replied with a light hearted smile, "Let me explain."
This downward spiral continues until at last we find ourselves where we are now, at the end of an age." "But what else is there to do?" I asked Onan, 'If both the past and the future lead to ruin?"
"Interesting," I said, "But I do not understand how you seem to imply that I am your ancestor, while Onan seemed to mean the opposite, that you are my ancestors." "It is strange and complex, and we understand very little of it, ourselves. The time for the council has come though, for our talk has dwindled away the afternoon. Perhaps some of your questions will there be answered.
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