Gemini III: Games of Light and Shadow

By Kyle Pierce

During the Second World War, the British government hired a talented mathematician named Alan Turing to solve a potentially war-losing problem. The problem was the highly sophisticated code the Nazi military used to encrypt their communications, which all previous attempts to decode had failed miserably. The Nazis used a device called an Enigma machine, capable of generating 159,000,000,000,000,000,000 cipher variations. To further exacerbate the problem, the Nazis changed the settings on the Enigma machine every 24 hours, presenting an entirely new, seemingly unbreakable code to vex the British cryptologists every day.

Turing's solution was not to try to crack the code so much as reveal it through a process of elimination. He achieved this by developing code-breaking techniques that narrowed the possibilities down to a number that could be tested using a device he designed called a Bombe. It is believed that Turing's contribution to cracking Enigma shortened the war by as much as two years, saving the lives of untold millions.

Alan Turing was born while Gemini was rising, with Venus and Pluto in the third decan.

The third decan of Gemini encompasses the last 10 degrees of the sign and corresponds with the time of year that immediately precedes the summer solstice, the longest day of the year. This is when the sun approaches the zenith of its power, the height of its reign over the northern hemisphere. It seems appropriate then, if only accidentally so, that the Chaldean order method of determining rulership assigns this decan to the Sun. Many cultures throughout history celebrate this period as a time of fertility, such as the Midsummer festival in Sweden. However, most acknowledge a dark side to this period, as when the Sun completes its period of ascension, it also begins its decline, and the days begin to grow shorter. Fittingly, the triplicity system of rulership also grants Saturn overlordship of this decan.

(Thousands gather at Chichén Itzá every year for the summer solstice. The Mayan-built central pyramid of El Castillo can be seen illuminated by pure sunlight on one side, and pure shadow on the other.)

Each of the three decans of Gemini is presided over by oppositional pairs according to the two primary systems of rulership, Mercury and Jupiter in the first, Mars and Venus in the second, and the Sun and Saturn in the third; each represents different faces of the duality inherent to the sign. In the third face of Gemini, we can no longer entertain an endless multitude of options, as we did in the first decan, nor can we continue to maintain mutually exclusive situations or natures within ourselves, as we did in the second. Here, we encounter the duality between light and darkness, life and death, truth and lies, all or nothing. But resolving the tension of opposites is rarely as simple as turning a switch on or off. While the rulers of this decan oppose each other in their significations, each contains internal contradictions as well. While the Sun sheds light, allowing truth to be revealed, the Sun’s light also blinds, concealing much beneath its rays. Saturn represents the limits of what we can see and the things which are concealed beyond Saturn’s boundaries; Saturn defines what we can see by showing us where what we can see ends. One can deceive by withholding the truth as well as by misrepresenting a falsehood as truth. And sometimes the truth can only be discovered deductively, by identifying what is not true first. In this decan, we are drawn into a game of withholding and disclosing, of manipulating light, as it were, to open doors, gaining access to what would otherwise be off-limits. This is a game that Alan Turing knew well, and it would, in many ways, define his life.

The ways in which the themes of Gemini III show up in Alan Turing’s life are profound, and more numerous than can be covered here. Turing was tasked with revealing the truth of the contents of German communications. The presence of Pluto exaggerates and intensifies the level of concealment and complexity of that code with a near-infinite number of possible permutations, while peacemaking Venus suggests the goal of his task, that of ending a war. The success or failure of his task would have profound consequences, but his involvement ultimately drew him deeper into the world of British intelligence and espionage. Even after cracking the code, the British couldn’t simply act on every piece of Nazi intelligence they decrypted, as it would risk the Nazis catching on and creating an entirely new cipher system, bringing them back to square one.

Gemini III has been historically associated with the deity Praxidike, a goddess tasked with the execution of justice as defined by the goddess Dike. Indeed, there is a reckoning that takes place in the third face of Gemini, where choices must be made, and we must stand or fall with the consequences. Laws both natural and man-made hold special relevance here, and many of its natives will find themselves walking the often razor-thin boundary between compliance and violation.

Turing’s contribution to ending the war with Germany would remain a secret for half a century after World War II, and tragically, his service to the British government would not spare him from punishment when he found himself on the wrong side of the law. Alan Turing was a homosexual, which in post-war Great Britain was illegal. In 1952, after police discovered that Turing was having an affair with another man, he was convicted of indecency. He was given a terrible choice: either serve two years in prison or submit to chemical castration. He chose the latter, and he died two years later. It is believed by most that depression caused by these hormonal treatments led him to take his own life. It is also suggested that a visit with a fortune-teller contributed to the depression which may have led to his death.

This decan is often home to spies, conmen, illusionists, and cryptologists—individuals for whom life and livelihood hinge on the careful concealment and selective revelation of truth. But this does not mean that individuals with placements here do not have good intentions or are any less deserving of trust than anyone else. Often, quite the opposite is the case. Many are exceptionally conscientious and tactful, possessing an intuitive understanding of the impact their words and actions have on others. This often makes them adept at handling sensitive information and delicate situations. Their innate capacity for sensing moments of great consequence can make them invaluable in navigating crises and able to capitalize on emergent opportunities. They are usually quick to detect patterns and trends, some are endowed with gifts of foresight and, in some cases, a predisposition toward divinatory practices. The gifts this decan imparts lend themselves well to careers in politics, as the games played by kings are as ever games of light and shadow. But the sword that Praxidike places in their hands cuts both ways and many find themselves drawn into high-stakes situations where, even when the outcome is favorable, the stress and pressure can negatively impact their physical and mental health. They are often more serious-minded and restrained than their cousins in the other decans of Gemini, tending to be more cynical and generally have less fun. This is not an especially fortunate decan and seems to be associated with an unusually high number of aviation-related accidents.

While the Sun signifies pride and praise, Saturn signifies humility and its close associate, humiliation. This decan casts light on the illusory nature of power and authority, the great and powerful Oz we see and the frail old man hiding behind the projected image. While this knowledge makes some skilled and ambitious manipulators of such images, it may breed irreverence in others. Ibn Ezra gives us the image of a man ornamented in gold and wielding a bow but desiring “to play music and laugh and mock in all sorts of ways.” While garbed in symbols of power and implements of war, he behaves in a way that might be called flippant or perhaps comical, lacking respect for the authority of others and even his own. The Ten of Swords tarot card, which this decan is associated with, depicts a man lying face down, apparently dead, with ten swords sticking out of his back. While the image is stark and ominous, there is an element of comic overkill to the depicted figure’s fate, which is further ironically juxtaposed with him making the papal gesture of benediction with his right hand, as if to bless this otherwise morbid image. There is a farcical undercurrent to the themes of this decan where the extremity of contradictions sometimes reaches a point of absurdity. Reality has a way of mocking itself at times as if to remind us when to recognize that so many human dramas are much ado about nothing.  

The third decan of Gemini is often the site of a tipping point, a moment in time where the tension of possible outcomes reaches a fever pitch, and events of true consequence ensue. The confluence of transgressions and bereavements culminates in declarations of war. The tumultuous churning of the heart coalesce behind the will, and declarations of love are made. The flurried machinations of the mind run their course, leaving behind substance of truth and deed.

The Rider-Waite-Smith Tarot version of the Ten of Swords

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown;” words once put in the mouth of Henry IV by Venus in Gemini III native William Shakespeare. And as sovereigns to one degree or another of our own lives, we must all bear the weight of the choices we make, the paths we took, and perhaps especially those we did not. As children, we dream of all the people we could become, all the things we might do, the lives we might live. But we get older, and time forces us to choose. And sure, we can change our minds, quit our jobs and pursue our dreams, or leave an unfulfilling marriage in search of a more ideal partner. But every year that passes, the sunk cost that comes with those changes accumulates, the options get narrower, and the body count grows as possible versions of yourself are eliminated until only one is left—the person you are. Some find the burdens of this crown so heavy they refuse to wear it at all, placing it on the heads of others. It is very easy to get weighed down by the tragedy of so many lives unlived, but it’s far more tragic to arrive at the end of the road only to realize you never really lived at all.

Austin Coppock calls this decan “the Executioner's Axe,” a name which aptly conveys the gravity of the choices Gemini III presents us with. None of us will leave this world with our hands clean, as refusing to choose is still a choice. So why not wear your crown with both pride and humility, honor the dead but bury them all the same, and  - after due consideration - let the heads roll?

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About the Author

Kyle Pierce (he/him) is a consulting astrologer based in the Detroit area. Kyle has written, hosted and produced numerous podcasts, videos and articles aimed at educating audiences on a wide range of topics within astrology. He is especially interested in conducting astrological research based on large sample groups and developing practices designed to remediate difficult chart placements. He currently hosts an ongoing Decan walk which will soon enter its 3rd year.
Instagram: astrology4earthlings
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Twitter / X: kyleVpierce
Website: kylepierceastrologer.com

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References

Benjamin Dykes, “The Decans in Astrology”

THE DECANS IN ASTROLOGY (franken.de)

Austin Coppock, “36 Faces: The History, Astrology and Magic of the Decans”