THE CREATION

Ancients have told the story as they believed it, but there were a few things they didn't quite understand...

“Out there in the depths of space, my brothers, out there between the swirling mass of stars that make up constellations, where the only light anywhere is the pinprick of barely visible illumination from the galaxies that are all so far away they are dwarfed to almost nothing because that's what they've become, we will build our home!”

Thus thundered Daeious, his voice an agony of sound as the microphone shook in his grip, adding unexpected vibrato to his words.

The crowd was expectant. They had been expecting as much. Life had, after all, become almost intolerable as the energy leaked, slowly and remorselessly, out of everything.

The Universe was old. Everyone knew it. Stars had flickered out until there were few remaining in the home galaxy and even fewer in the distant others. Patterns in the sky, those that astrologers had interpreted in their mad way as this or that attribution of a birth or death or even marriage, were shrinking and changing and becoming darkness.

Daeious cleared his throat and wept openly. Known as a dispassionate man, he knew he had to display passion, and it wasn't difficult. He felt passion with every nerve in his body. The expectant faces in front of him expected no less, and he knew it.

“I will go into that void,” he declared, “I will furnish us with a new home world with a sun of its own, and others to decorate the night sky! And everything will be virgin and new. I will gather the dust of the ages and mould stars and planets, I will ignite fires in the darkness, fires that will burn for a million million years, and cast warmth and light upon our offspring. And you, my brothers, will journey there with me! You will be the strength of my withered arms and the muscles of my failing legs, the cowl that covers my ancient head and shields my weakened eyes. We will live again, all of us, on the clay we form with anxious hands, and then, when we are done, a new age will begin...”

A cheer went up and Daeious acknowledged it. His words had worked. His people were inspired. He would take them to the depths of unknown space, and they would create something grand and new and alive. They would build, together, a brand new Universe!

They had to. Their world was almost dead.

They had, he supposed, killed it. Or time had. The ravages of decay, the gradual disintegration of matter into energy and it leaking away to nowhere. But they hadn't helped, the people in their millions, their need for comfort, their demands on a nature that couldn't sustain them.

And when he created his new world, out there, beyond everything, he would make sure that history didn't repeat itself.

Daeious turned and walk off, supported by his dwarf.

“That was a good speech,” said the dwarf admiringly. “It was all wrong, of course, and you didn't tell them the truth...”

“What truth, damn you?” demanded Daeious.

“That the clay for your new Paradise will be their flesh. That the rocks for the mountains and hills will be their bones. That their eyes, blinded by a new light and their ears, deafened by a fresh reality, will be senseless in your new creation.”

“You devil!” shouted Daeious, “what gives you that idea, eh? I have promised, and I have always been a man of my word!”

The dwarf sniggered. “No man are you,” he prattled. “But come, we will see what we will see. Our craft awaits. The last trickles of energy have been harnessed and you and me " we'll blast off and all the dreamers will hope to follow.”

Daeious scowled.

“They'll follow, all right, but to what?” asked the dwarf hollowly.

Daeious sighed as he climbed the steps that led into a gigantic shining cigar in the centre of the desert. All around loomed countless other cigars, all with their sharp ends pointing towards the same black patch of sky.

Then it was time.

There were a thousand roaring, deafening engines pouring the collected trickles of energy into the vastness of eternity and the cigars, all of them, and majestic like birds of old, rose into the night on wispy tails of light.

“See, they are all with us,” crowed Daeious. “Each and every one of them. Hoping for a new tomorrow.”

“And raw materials for your cynical game,” cackled the dwarf. “Daeious, you've over-reached yourself!”

“We'll see about that,” whispered the cowled man. “Now, my little friend, we must sleep for a millennia while we journey on. There is a long way for us to go before we reach our plot in the skies!”

And sleep they did. Suddenly, like a light switching off, and their vessel hurtled on.

And then, like the light switching on again, they awoke.

It was a strange blackness outside. They could see that much through the crystal windows of their dusty old craft, no longer shining and silver but dull and decrepit.

The dwarf looked at Daeious.

“Time for you to go, my friend,” he sniggered, pointing a huge weapon at the cowled leader. “Time for you to take a walk on the dark side while I...” he coughed, “While I create a Universe!”

Daeious grinned. “I was expecting treachery or something of the sort,” he murmured. “It won't work, you little fool!”

“Of course it will,” laughed the dwarf. “Everything is planned to the last detail. The armada of ships is still with us. We are in a new dimension and there is quite enough material for it to work.”

“But it will need me,” whispered Daeious.

“Oh, I know that!” cackled the dwarf, enjoying himself, “that's why I've changed you. Take a look in the mirror, you old fool! I changed you, while you slept, but by bit I remodelled your ancient flesh and made you into a serpent! And as a serpent you can crawl all over my new Creation!

“Now harken to this!” He cleared his dwarfish throat and switched on their inter-spacecraft sound system. He drew a deep and twisted breath, and, “Let there be light!” he bellowed.

Author's Note

No science so it's not science fiction. Just a look at one of possible futures/pasts.

Reviews

[Chinmay]

An unexpected turn of events at the end, I must say. The end seemed a little grim, which I think, was necessary for the story. The story was indeed story, but complete.

[Peter Rogerson]

Thanks for your interest, Chinmay