Ariel is a work of speculative science fiction set against the backdrop of a multiverse and the mysteries of quantum physics, providing ample material for philosophical reflection.
SPOILER ALERT: Since the underlying reality of what has transpired in this 75-page novella is revealed in the final pages—and because I wish to explore a number of those philosophic issues—I’m obliged to include spoilers.
Here’s how Lucius Shepard frames his tale: our narrator, Dick Cyrus, relates what he refers to as “a series of mathematical propositions—fantasies, really—that soon thereafter were turned into breakthrough work by my best friend, Rahul Osauri.” As we quickly discover, what Cyrus formulated back in his student days at Caltech served as the necessary equations for Rahul to build a crane with a scoop made of bonded particles—a scoop capable of plucking objects from other dimensions. And, following years of gradual refinement of Cyrus’s initial mathematics, the object Rahul ultimately retrieves from that other dimension is an extremely tall, thin female capable of leaping fifty feet into the air. However, moments after she appears, she leaps away and vanishes into a nearby forest.
Several years pass. Since there are rumors, bordering on folktale, of such a female creature dwelling in the Allegheny Mountains of West Virginia, Dick Cyrus hires a guide to help him track this being from another universe, known by the locals as the “Willowy Woman.”
Cyrus eventually spots her peeking from among the leaves. Her face is “milk-pale, long and narrow, it had an exotic angularity and simplicity such as might be depicted in a comic book artist’s version of beauty, too streamlined to be real, and it was more compelling than the face of any human woman I had known. Her eyes were dark, almost no whites showing around enormous pupils, and the eyebrows were black, upswept streaks. Sharp cheekbones mimicked the angle of her eyebrows; her mouth was wide and full, predatory yet sensual.” Then the shocker: “She emerged further from the leaves, snarled black hair waterfalling to her waist, and stared at me as if I were the one thing in the world that mattered.”
Why would this creature from another universe stare at Cyrus with such intensity? The reason eventually becomes clear. This female creature is Ariel, and Cyrus is really Isha. These two lovers, Isha and Ariel, have been crossing multiple universes, playing out a deadly cosmic game of love and death—Eros and Thanatos—for eons.
Then the ultimate revelation: the multiverse is filled with millions of Ariels and Ishas—and Rahuls. The Rahuls can see that both Ariels and Ishas are violent, causing tremendous destruction and death in their wake, but Ariels are even more violent than Ishas. Therefore, the Rahuls (aided by organizations like the Central Intelligence Agency and the Federal Bureau of Investigation on our planet) set about training the Ishas to hunt down the Ariels across universes and kill them.
Turning to the philosophical, here are several topics Lucius Shepard presses us to consider:
THE RAHUL PROJECT
How effective will Rahul and all his analogues be in inserting themselves into the violence between Ariels and Ishas? Is this the ultimate expression of human arrogance, where reason attempts to nullify the chaos embedded in the very structure of the universe? And the inclusion of agencies like the Federal Bureau of Investigation and the Central Intelligence Agency sounds like pure silliness—a cockeyed plan hatched by some pencil-pushing, bureaucratic boob. The project is surely doomed from the outset, not because it is poorly conceived, but because it assumes the universe is something that can be managed.
FATED RATHER THAN FREE
From the perspective of Buddhism and other enlightenment traditions, the multiverse Lucius Shepard has created is greed, hatred, and delusion at rocket speed. Why? Because the Ishas and Ariels lack the freedom we humans possess; rather, they are driven by cosmic forces that cut them off from engaging in practices like meditation or yoga. They are bound to their predatory nature, every bit as fixed and unchangeable as that of predators such as lions, tigers, and cheetahs. In an indirect way, Shepard is asking us to reflect on our own lives as humans: how free are we when we too are driven by attraction, love, obsession, and passion?
BEYOND THE ORDINARY
Cyrus, after viewing the female alien for the first time on a computer screen: “Seeing her had excited me in a way I had not known since I was a sophomore—her appearance validated the obsessions Rahul and I had shared, our belief that the universe contained miraculous presences unanticipated by mainstream science.” This sentiment is not unusual. Many people thrive on UFO sightings, haunted houses, and supposed evidence of Bigfoot, the Yeti, or the Loch Ness Monster. The extraordinary can be an irresistible magnet. Shepard might ask: What do you, reader, find alluring? In what ways might that object of your allurement overpower you?
INTENSIFICATION VERSUS FREEDOM
A Lucius Shepard tale is an intense tale, where that intensity is often brought on by elements such as futuristic drugs. In Life During Wartime, Salvador, and Fire Zone Emerald, the drug of choice for soldiers is a pill that heightens perception, increases endurance, and greatly enhances combat efficiency—in many ways, the drug weaponizes consciousness itself. Cyrus experiences a similar intensity when he clicks into his predatory Isha nature, a way of being that is not something new to him; quite the contrary, he is having his authentic inner world confirmed by the universe. This is one of Shepard’s enduring themes: we yearn for those intense moments in life. But they come with a price—sometimes a very steep one. As humans, we love freedom and we love intensity. Frequently, we are forced to choose between the two.
The true shock of Ariel is not its multiverse, but the suspicion that we may not be living our lives at all—only repeating them across different stages.
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