April 20, 2112 - Anonymous

Temples of Syrinx-
The massive gray walls of the temples rise from the heart of every Federation city. I have always been awed by them, to think that every single facet of every life is regulated and directed from within. Our books, our music, our work and play are all looked after by the benevolent wisdom of the Priests.
" We've taken care of everything, the words you hear, the songs you sing, the pictures that give pleasure to your eyes. It's one for all and all for one. We work together common sons. Never need to wonder how or why."
"We are the priests of the Temples of Syrinx. All the gifts of life are held within our walls.
Look around this world we made. Equality, our stock in trade. Come and join the Brotherhood of Man. Let the banners be unfurled! Hold the Red Star proudly high in hand!"

Discovery-
Behind my beloved waterfall, in the little Room that was hidden beneath the cave, I found it. I brushed away the dust of the years, And picked it up, holding it in my hands. I had no idea what it was, but it was beautiful.
I learned to lay my fingers across the wires, and to turn the keys to make them sound differently. As I struck the wires with my other hand, I produced my first harmonious sounds, and soon my own music. How different it could be from the music of the Temples, I can't wait to tell the Priests about it!
See how it sings like a sad heart and joyously screams out its pain sounds that build high like a mountain, or notes that fall gently like rain.
I can't wait to share this new wonder! The people will all see its light! Let them all make their own music! The priests praise my name on this night!

Presentation-
"I know it's most unusual to come before you so, but I've found an ancient miracle I thought that you should know..." In the sudden silence as I finished playing, I looked up to a circle of grim, expressionless faces. Father Brown rose to his feet, and his somnolent voice echoed throughout the silent Temple Hall.

"Yes, we know, it's nothing new, it's just a waste of time. We have no need for ancient ways, the world is doing fine"
"Another toy will help destroy the elder race of man. Forget about your silly whim. It doesn't fit the plan"
"I can't believe you're saying these things, they just can't be true. Our world could use this beauty, just think what we might do-"
Father Brown interrupted, "Don't annoy us further! We have our work to do. Just think about the average. What use have they for you?"
Instead of the grateful joy that I expected, they were words of quiet rejection! Instead of praise, sullen dismissal. I watched in shock and horror as Father Brown grounded my precious instrument to splinters beneath his feet!

The Dream-
I stand atop a spiral stair. An oracle confronts me there. He leads me on light years away through astral nights, galactic days. I see the works of gifted hands that grace this strange and wondrous land. I see the hand of man arise with hungry mind and open eyes. They left the planet long ago. The elder race still learn and grow.
I guess it was a dream, but even now it all seems so vivid to me. Clearly yet I see the beckoning hand of the Oracle as he stood at the summit of the staircase. I see still the incredible beauty of the sculptured cities and the pure spirit of man revealed in the lives and works of this world. I was overwhelmed by both wonder and understanding as I saw a completely different way to life, a way that had been crushed by the federation long ago. I saw now how meaningless life had become with the loss of all these things. My last hope is that with my death I may pass into the world of my dream, and know peace at last... The sleep is still in my eyes. The dream is still in my head. I heave a sigh and sadly smile. And lie a while in bed.
I wish that it might come to pass. Not fade like all my dreams. Just think of what my life might be in a world like I have seen. I don't think I can carry on. Carry on this cold and empty life. My spirits are low in the depths of despair. My lifeblood spills over...

"...Attention all planets of the solar federation... We have assumed control..."

And the Priests of the Temples of Syrinx were worried. For long years had they ruled the world from within their massive Temples. In the dull, depressing conference hall in the biggest Temple in the biggest Federation city, head Priests from throughout the globe had gathered to discuss the problem that was preying on their minds. Father Brown was the first to speak. "So. The prophecy is coming true." His voice echoed around the hall's granite walls. The others murmured in assent. "What can we do?" A hint of desperation underlying flat, expressionless phrasing this time around.

"Consult with the Computer."

Silence in the hall. The priests had an inborn distrust of machines, especially ones of such complexity as computers.
Deliberately, Father Brown tapped out a question.
Almost immediately - and in a voice even more characterless, undeviating and droning than Father Brown's - the computer spoke its reply.

"Rush. Formed in Toronto,1968. Alex Lifeson (guitar),
Geddy Lee (bass,vocals), Neil Peart (drums)."
Father Brown cringed at the mention of the guitar. The discovery of such an instrument had started this whole distressing affair.The Priests knew the relevance of this particular term.
" - 2112."

"Stop there," commanded Father Brown. "2112," he repeated, "how could they have had the foresight to predict...?" His voice trailed off.
"If you please, Father Brown," proffered another Priest, "can I respectfully suggest that we cease to worry about how and, more importantly, deal with more urgent matters, matters closer to hand? After all, the mob outside..."
"Yes, I can hear them too," interjected Father Brown impatiently. And then, in calmer tones: "But you're right of course. Continue computer."
"2112. Astonishingly accurate prophecy of present-day society.
Details rule of Priests of Temples of Syrinx in unsympathetic terms,
claims that Federation 'crushed' the spirit of man, asserts need for
individualism, mentions desertion of elite of Doomed Folk from Earth
to other planets, predicts the discovery of the guitar and subsequent
rejection of..."
Father Brown's mind drifted, back to those events of scant months before. He could see how that tiny, immaterial event of the smashing of the guitar had acted as a lever that had uprooted the foundations of the Priests' dreary world.
People had re-awakened, realized that there was more to life than work and sleep - and chaos had ensued. Around their ears, the Priests' world had begun to crumble.
Unaware of Father Brown's thoughts, oblivious to the seriousness of the situation, the computer droned on.
"Stop, computer."
Father Brown turned to regard the other Priests grouped around him. All were silent. There was little more that could be said. They realized that the collapse of their carefully-structured society was mere moments away. They knew that the destruction of centuries-worth of hard work was imminent. And all because of one moment of folly, the breaking into pieces of a guitar, 'a toy that helped destroy the elder race of man'.
Turning the computer off, Father Brown and the rest of the Priests returned to their seats at the stone table to meditate.
When the mob broke into the conference hall, the Priests were in meditation. The rioters tore into their one-time rulers tearing them apart by hand, rending them limb from limb, blood lusting in their new-found freedom. The Priests did not struggle. They accepted their fate.
Father Brown was the last to die, clubbed lifeless while murmuring his final words:

"Rush. They must have been one hell of a band."