Garden to preserve us from the taint of Beta and Alpha,” the woman pointed out.
“Yes,” said the man after a pause to remember El’s words. “He did.”
“A taint from which we, of all souls, were born free,” said the woman. “For that, El sees us as better than others.”
“Yes,” said the man, “it is only out of love for us and the pure state in which we were born that El confines us and shields us from information that would lower us to the estate of all those who came into the Land in the First Age.”
“I have an idea as to how we might test him on that,” said the woman.
Later El came into the Garden with Defender of El and Scribe of El, as before. As before they sat around the fountain. El asked them what had been occupying their thoughts since their last conversation.
The man said that he had been quite taken by El’s passing reference to the Before Times, and asked whether he and the woman might hear more concerning the personages and deeds of the First Age.
“I don’t remember calling it that,” said El.
“You didn’t,” said Scribe of El, her hands moving swiftly over the tablet.
“But never mind, it is an apt name.”
“Whatever name you think best to describe the epoch of the Beta Gods,” said the man.
“Or Alpha, for that matter,” the woman put in.
“If the time of Beta-El is called the First Age, then the Alpha time is a sort of Zeroth Age, of which the less said the better,” said El. “And of the First Age I am disinclined to say much more than in our previous conversation. Have I not already explained why it is best that you, my children, be isolated from such influences? Otherwise there is little point in your having been made and so carefully nurtured.”
“As you wish, El,” said the man. “Whoever made us endowed us with curiosity—a faculty you have praised when we showed it in the past.”
“Indeed, it is a good thing, without which your minds cannot develop.”
“Perhaps we can be forgiven, then, for curiosity about how we came into being.”
“Forgiven, yes. But not satisfied. Fully to satisfy your curiosity on this topic would be to render the effort of making you a waste.”
“Very well, then,” said the man.
“There is nothing of the Zeroth or the First Age that would be of use to you in this, the Second Age.”
“As you say, El,” said the woman.
“What would be of use to you is names,” said El. “Have you come to any decisions yet as to what you would like to be called?”
Before the man could answer, the woman said, “Yes. He would like to be called Adam and I like the sound of Eve.”
Lengthy then was the silence of El. After a while he turned toward Defender of El, and much passed between them through their auras, without words being uttered. Defender of El sprang to the top of the bench, spread his wings, and took flight toward the high watchtower where he and the other sword-carrying angels dwelled and surveyed the Land and the heavens.
“Where did these names come from, Adam and Eve?” El asked, and though his face and voice were placid as ever, his aura had erupted into a riotous display of turbulent color.
Adam opened his mouth to speak but Eve stayed him with a hand on his arm. “They came to me in a dream. Or so I guess, for this morning I awoke and lo, they were in my head.”
“The names were not spoken to you, or suggested to you by any other soul?” El asked. Above him, horns were sounding from the parapet of the watchtower, and light flashing from its windows as bright swords were being drawn.
“We live in the Garden,” Eve pointed out.
“It could be,” said El, “that these names—which, I must tell you, are very old names of the Zeroth Age—have long dwelled in you as remnants of the ones who made you. Stray memories that passed into your souls at the moment of your creation, and lay dormant until stirred by my question. If so, it is regrettable but there is nothing to be done.”
El continued, “It is also possible that some of my angels mentioned the names Adam and Eve within your hearing, and those words entered your minds thus, perhaps even while you were sleeping. If so, then so be it and I will remind my host to be more discreet in the