53 The Rulebook Forbids itBuffy and Skip were like dogs that had lived their entire lives in puppy mill cages. When let out onto a sunny summer lawn with squeak toys and rawhide chews, They had no idea what to do. 

Flash wanted desperately to free them from the mental prison that held their spirits captive. 

“Come with me” he said. They rose and followed him to the bed of rubies. He raised one to eye level and it projected brilliant beams of dancing light. 

They shrunk away, and glanced about as though in fear of getting caught and being punished. 

“It’s ok!” he reassured them, “Let’s go and see what wonders this world holds for you.”

“The rulebook forbids it” they claimed. 

Had Flash missed something?  “Show me” he said, handing the tattered book to Skip. 

With worried faces, they began pouring through the book, searching for a basis for their fear. 

“I know it’s here somewhere” Skip muttered, becoming more and more flustered. 

“What I see in the book,” Flash said, “is the freedom of potential, not the blinders of fear. I think you may have misunderstood the message.”

The Ololians were so steeped in misguided beliefs that it was difficult for them to see the beauty in anything.  In light of this, perhaps Flash actually was a redeemer of sorts. But could he break the chains that shackled them?

“If you look for something, that is what you are apt to find. If it is fear you concentrate on, you will live in fear. On the other hand, if you can see beauty, then you can live joyous and beautiful lives.  Does that make sense to you?”

Their apprehension was palpable. How many years had they lived under this umbrella of suppression?  Their former world was drab and colorless. They were clearly products of this oppression, yet Flash thought he had detected a spark of joy at the blazing crystal.

“Let us further examine the rulebook,” they pleaded, and Flash obliged with an immense feeling of pity. 

As they sat, huddled over the pages, Flash set off to explore the area. He followed a yellow path which he could easily retrace if he made it any substantial distance from the ship. 

Flash was met with surprise after surprise on his ramble.  As much as he tried to keep the big picture in view, every detail beckoned him to stop and marvel.  The jewel encrusted terrain eventually gave way to a softer, almost spongy surface, but still in intense color like before.

While the landscape continued to captivate him, Flash couldn’t help thinking of Buffy and Skip, and he wondered how he could help them. Not to meddle, but they clearly looked to him for guidance.  This was their planet, not his, and this realization changed the way he viewed it.

As the yellow path narrowed and came to an end, he turned and followed it back.

From a distance, Flash could see Buffy and Skip still hunching over, just as he had left them. He felt compassion, but did not know what else he could say. 

As he neared them, he heard the sound of laughter. 

With their backs turned to him, Buffy and Skip were building a glimmering castle out of crystal shards.

They were oblivious to his presence, piecing stones together to form an ornate structure with balconies cantilevering out from tower walls. A sweeping amethyst roadway led to the main gate whose arch reached several feet above the mosaic floor. Looking over their shoulders, Flash saw within the mosaics, images from his own journey that brought him all these light years to meet them, and his heart was glad. 

Behind the castle, he saw something that did not quite fit the creative and playful scene. There, pages disheveled, lay the rulebook, a relic from another time.

The crystal palace was so detailed and well constructed that Flash could hardly believe his eyes. It was nothing like a child’s sand castle, but appeared to be an exact replica, only more beautiful than any Flash had ever seen. 

“How did you do this?” Flash asked in amazement. 

“This is how the pieces fit together,” they said. 

Flash could see it now. In this recreated world, the two inhabitants had all the tools they needed to fit the pieces together. They did not need him to teach them how we assembled the puzzle on Earth. Perhaps they would do it better here without his intervention.

Just one or two of Olo’s magnificent crystals would be worth a fortune on earth. Here, there were blue diamonds and clear emeralds larger than watermelons, but Flash was only interested in one souvenir. 

“You dropped your book,” he said. 

“We don’t need that anymore.”