2010 HSCC 11th Day!

Welcome to the 11th day of the 2010 Harbor Street Christmas Celebration! Today we have another tale from Bethlehem.

Tales from Bethlehem:
The Star's Tale

By Stephen B. Bagley

      So I was hanging around the sky, when one of the Host appeared to me. I flared before I got control and dampened my corona. To say I was shocked was an understatement. I was a minor star, not one of the big reds or the blazing blue-whites. Bertha, a red supergiant in the system next to mine, liked to point out my complete insignificance in the general Scheme of Things. Bertha was older and positive that the whole shebang depended on her lighting the way.
      "You'll never be more than a dwarf," Bertha had told me more than once.
      "Ignore her," Clarence would tell me. Clarence was young, barely out of the nursery. He was blue-white and already carried a system larger than Bertha's.
      The seraphim drew close, its radiance overwhelming mine. "I am sent by the Source," she said calmly. "A great Task has been appointed unto you."
      The Messenger of the Source said the Source had asked that I Burn at a particular time to fulfill a portion of His mighty and unending work.
      "I am His to command," I said, frightened and puzzled. "But I have not the needed mass to Burn."
      "That which you need, you will be given," the seraphim said. She drew close to me. "Know you that The Rebel will oppose this. Be strong. Be steadfast. For the sake of love, the Source is bringing about a great work, and you have been Chosen to play a part. You are Blessed among the lights."
      "She smiled gently and went away, leaving me dazzled and dazed.
      "I can't believe she didn't talk to me!" Bertha fumed when she was certain the seraphim was gone. "I am more worthy!"
      "Congratulations," Clarence said, ignoring the big red. "It is a great honor."
      I was silent, thinking of the Source and what had been requested. Eons passed. The time approached for me to attempt to Burn -- even though I knew it was impossible.
      A Being approached me then. This one burned darkly, a rolling black nebula.
      "I am Serpenta," the Being said. "I greet you, little star."
      "I know who you are," I said, feeling my core quake. "Be gone. I will have traffic neither with you nor The Rebel."
      "Oh, little star, you wound me," Serpenta said. "I noticed your lovely light and came to bask in it. That is all." He paused. "I wanted to visit you before you Burned. It's a shame a beautiful star like you would be asked to do such a thing."
      "The Source asked me, and I am obedient," I said. "Depart."
      "Ah, but it wasn't the Source, was it?" Serpenta said. "He sent one of the Host, a lesser being to command you. If this is so important, why didn't He come Himself?"
      "He made me," I said. "I am His to command."
      "Of course, you are," Serpenta said, circling me in a lazy orbit. "And He did make you. But what has He done for you lately? Do you have children? Do you burn with fierce, fantastic heat? Do the comets give themselves to you in worship? No, my astra, no. He made and forgot you, just one among all the others. And now He seeks your Burning for the sake of tiny creatures that don't even worship Him."
      "What?" I gasped. "They don't worship Him?"
      "They are fallen," Serpenta said. "They ignore Him, they curse Him, they turn their backs to Him. To think that one as brilliant as you would be asked to make such a sacrifice just to mark His Son's birth! How dare He ask that of you!"
      "His Son's birth?!" Prominences flared across me.
      "Yes," Serpenta said. "He is allowing His Son to take the form of these worthless humans. He is heartlessly sending His Son away. You have no children worlds, no sister suns, nothing in the void, but if you had worlds, you would cherish them. You would give them light and heat, but He does not bless you, His faithful servant, while He blesses those who reject Him."
      "His Son," I breathed plumes of plasma, trying to understand why and how the Source would give up His Son.
      "Don't do it," Serpenta urged. "Don't give your approval to this folly. The humans are not worth a particle of your light." He drew close to me, his Being skimming my photosphere. "There is another Master in the sky," he whispered. "One who would reward you with children. Perhaps even a sister sun. You have everything to gain by refusing and everything to lose by obeying."
      "So your Master would give me all that I want?" I asked slowly.
      "Yes," Serpenta said.
      "And all I have to do ... is disobey the One who made me what I am!" I flared and sent out corona loops. My photosphere blazed and then darkened as I drew in my outer layers, pulling them toward my core.
      "You cannot Burn!" Serpenta roared, his black, jagged wings unfolding. "You will be nothing! You are wasting your light!"
      I did not respond. What I have, I give! I sent across the trackless void. What I am, is yours! And as the seraphim had promised, mass suddenly gathered in me, diving into my core, nuclear flames compressed into liquid fire, and then ...
      Then ...
      Then I Burned.
      My light surged into the void, a mighty river of gold, a glorious torrent that swept my unraveling essence beyond into the unbounded night.
      From beyond, The Source turned and smiled at me. "Well done," He said, reaching forth His hand and cradling me.
      I fell into His limitless love.
      And that's how I became a seraphim. Sometimes I go by and see Clarence and Bertha. Clarence is always glad to see me. Bertha ... not so much.

Excerpted from Tales from Bethlehem. Copyright 2010 by Stephen B. Bagley. All rights reserved. No copying without express written permission from the publisher and author.

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