by Jared Ravens
"It is not like the last!” said Goetz. “I improved it, for under rock is metal, and this one can find metal and shape it into unbelievably strong substances.”
As if to prove its point, Curson, as it was called, pulled a ton of ore from the side of Sigma and melted it in his hands. Using his massive, dirty thighs he pressed it into a straight, flat sheet. This took little time and was impressive but his filthy, naked body and rude mannerisms ruined the experience.
"Put this thing back where it came from,” I told Goetz, "I see no use for it.”
Goetz did not put it back. Goetz extolled the virtues of Curson and Spaulding and invited me to the Table of Eternity. I walked away before it could finish its sentence.
The woods were the only place I could find solace now. Curson and Spaulding set about building now, making structures from rock and metal that caused a ruckus night and day. Spaulding talked while Curson sat quietly. I had none of it. I went deeper and deeper into the forest until I could hear them talk no more.
I experimented more with what I could create, making people from simply a thought and a wave of my hand. They became more resilient and clever, walking about with their own goals and aspirations. They found their own food and built small huts and lived in peace as I watched. I would herd them deeper into the woods if I heard Goetz approach. I spent long days sleeping by the river and pastures deep inside the forest. I felt my mind becoming healed.
One day I was attempting a new creation, cutting my hand by the river to see what would emerge. I then fell into a deep sleep, my hand leaking great red drops into the
water. When I woke, the river was red and boiling. A figure was lashing about, with multiple limbs made of water itself. A great beast many times larger than I rose up, sapping up all of the water in the river and making it a bare canyon for the time. Its legs and arms whipped about for some time as all of the people fled into the forest.
It was then that I could feel Goetz. Though I could not see it, I could feel it was smiling. I yelled at it, asking what it had done.
"This is our creation! For we have created this of your body and my mind, something more powerful yet.”
The thing settled down, becoming its new body, a brown and red mass of hands, arms and feet pressed into a large, disgusting ball. I recoiled at it. Eyes emerged on the side of it and it spoke to me through some sort of a mouth. I could not understand what it was saying.
"It is saying it is Harper,” Goetz said proudly. "And it is our son!”
With this, I was disgusted for the final time. I finally understood it would not stop. Goetz was intent on creating other things to surpass me. Though it had not succeeded yet, it would continue to do so until it did. This was it wanted. Something bigger and more terrifying, something more structured and stronger than I.
I did not ask for males to be created, you see. Goetz, the genderless thing of smoke, saw that I was female by choice and set about to make something to be my counterpart. This thing, Goetz, was born to an absentee parent in Sigma and had no idea how to be a one. Goetz is a thing of no social skills nor understanding. Its attempt to create would destroy everything I had created.
"Do you know what you are doing?” I said to it.
"I am making things, for that is our nature,” It told me, as if it should be proud.
"You are making a mess,” I said. "A son? I asked no one for this. What is a son?”
"A counterpart to you,” it said proudly.
A counterpart. This was the word that it used to say replacement. Improvement. I knew what it was doing, even if it did not. And I would not stand for it. These things may be stronger than me but they could not create like me. For I had seen The Void and it made me more powerful that all of them put together.
"These things, they bask in the knowledge and security that I provide,” I told Goetz. “You create more and more of them, without regard to what I have created. If you cannot leave me alone, I will force you to do so.”
I walked past the beast called Harper. It laid helplessly as a wet ball of flesh as I walked deeper into the woods. Goetz continued to call out to me but it did not understand me and I did not care to understand it. I had found my calling. If Goetz wanted sons, then I would have daughters, and they would defend me, the Mother of Mothers.
I ordered my women to make an enclosure and form weapons. I knew this would not be enough, for we did not have the knowledge to build the protection we needed. We could not hide forever, either. I knew what I needed, and I set out at night to sneak into Goetz’s camp.
I found Curson and Spaulding by the fire. Harper was no where to be seen, which was for the best. I waited until Curson left the camp to travel up Sigma before I approached Spaulding.
“Brother,” I asked, “What do you think of Goetz?”
Spaulding was effusive in his praise, and spoke of the world we could help it create. I kept my composure despite feeling sick at the ideas he was bringing up. When he was done I asked:
“Don’t you think we could do it a better way?”
“We couldn’t survive alone,” Spaulding said.
“But we could. By building a fortress at the top of Sigma,” I told him. “Goetz could still know us but it would be separate, and we could build what we wished.”
I did not initially want to include the others in this but I had no choice: I needed Spaulding’s abilities. I also need Curson, if he would help. If Goetz decided to bring create something to oppose us, I would need all the assistance I could get. Spaulding could not see this.
“I know you want to be a leader,” he told me, “but we can’t survive without Goetz.”
There were other fires around the base of the mountain and I looked at them closely for the first time. Little things were moving around them. For the first time I saw what they were: Little men in the mold of Spaulding and Curson, ugly and obnoxious. They danced and shouted loudly as they ate and drank in near nakedness.
“What is that?” I said, knowing what it was. “How could Gotez create that? It stole that from me! And it criticized me for making something mortal!”
“Aye!” Said Spaulding, happily. “They are not mere mortals. Goetz took an idea and made it better! For they may die some day but their spirits will forever wander the land!”
I was horrified at this, at the cruelty for such an impulsive move. I believed that when something died it should be allowed to become extinguished.
“Don’t you see?” I said to Spaulding. “Its making an army! If we don’t act, it will hold everything, and we will be at its mercy.”
Spaulding was unable or unwilling to see this, or perhaps he did and was simply a coward. For men are vicious but they are often lazy in the face of fear. I remember his strange, dumb look, almost like a wounded animal resigned to its fate. I knew then that all action would have to come from me.
I retreated back behind our walls. I plotted with the women and one night I led them out to Sigma. The men, Spaulding and Curson, were sleeping at the base. Silently the women began tying Spaulding while I held guard with a spear and shield. When he discovered what was happening Spaulding let out a wail and woke his brother. Slow to rise, I began stabbing at Curson, pining his body to the ground. He pulled himself up, letting a spear run clean through his body, and threw me to the ground. He ran to pick up his metal weapons but by the time he returned the girls had put Spaulding on their backs and carried him, screaming, into the forest.
Curson yelled at me and pounded at my shield with his sword. He cut through the wood barrier and slashed at me but I only laughed as he asked where his brother was. I grew larger and larger, and he did so in kind, and as a storm of blood flew over the land from our fighting Goetz finally appeared.
I was delighted that it was angry, and I grew my cut limbs back and told it that I would hold its son in my possession until I felt that it would create no more.
"For you are destructive in your creation, and I alone am the mother of creation.”
; It raged at me with every word it could find but I dismissed it, telling it I responded to none of those names.
"I am Celia, named so by me, and only women may have the pleasure of calling on me at all from now on.”
And so, I escaped into the darkness, pursued by the lumbering and noisy Curson.
Night in Far West
Bern stood the road that night looking in the direction of The Hill, as Mount Sigma was called. He scratched his face, a nervous tick that he developed. He had grown a slight beard from days of night shaving, something that would normally drive him crazy. But he didn’t notice the new hair. His mind was occupied.
“You going to stay out there long?” Jonathan asked.
“Just a while longer,” Bern said.
“Oh, that’ll be OK,” he replied, hands on his hips, looking tot he night sky as if it might rain.
“Its not dangerous here,” Bern said, more of a question than a statement.
“Oh, it is,” he replied
They were many leagues from the nearest town. Bern comforted himself by remembering they were near a main road and it would be easy to travel if an emergency happened. What emergency might happen, though? This was Far West, the place way out there where the swamp met the beasts. As animals croaked in the blackness, Bern’s head was swimming with possibilities. It wasn’t the dangerous beasts that he was thinking about.
When he had read the letters Jonathan had sent, somewhere in his mind he had compartmentalized it as a story, something some person had given him to try and get published as fiction. It was dangerous fiction, blasphemous, something that ridiculed the neat and orderly Official History that they were taught. But a lot of people did that. They did not publish it, but they told satirical stories about the titans They laughed at them. But they did not do it to their faces.
Bern had thought he might be coming to see the author of stories. But after he had finished reading the opening of the new creation story, he had witnessed Jonathan tense his body and close his eyes. His arms flailed across the page as words came out of his hand like a machine. He had written a rant of insidious rage against everything the managers on The Hill stood for, so breathtaking he had to step outside.
Somewhere in the darkness, between the swamp and The Hill, past the sugar root smoking robbers waiting on the side of the road, sat some blessed person or super being that had transmitted this account directly to Jonathan’s hand. If it was Celia, it was a book to scorch everyone around her. She was baring everything, and it didn’t sound like the story was going to become kinder. She was casting herself as the victim, which was not unusual, but she was also presenting herself as a kidnapper of some of the same beings she now liked to say she had authority over. No one thought of her as a benevolent being, but humiliating and emasculating her kin openly in writing would be damaging beyond repair.
If it wasn’t her controlling Jonathan’s writing, then someone was playing a giant and dangerous prank.
Bern wasn’t afraid of the animals. He knew what to be afraid of. The managers on The Hill did not take kindly to being embarrassed. But he was now in the middle of it.
He thought of walking away but soon it was raining as if the ocean had been dumped into the sky. Jonathan was cackling that ‘good old Staley’ was determined to drown them. That didn’t make Bern feel any better. If Staley was after them then, well, who could fight the weather? Bern wondered if they would drown that night and be done with it.
Wet and hunched over he drank tea for the heat, not the taste, and asked Jonathan his opinion. He reiterated that the testimony was delivered directly from Celia.
“But what it says about Goetz is reckless,” Bern replied. “Goetz is represented in just about every temple, no matter who the congregation worships. You can’t say you’re not afraid of what you’re writing. This testament makes Goetz seem like an idiot.”
Jonathan's sly smile snuck up on his face as he shook his head.
"Its the truth," he said. "I said it, I wrote, it’s the truth."
"It might be the truth, but do you know for sure Celia is sending this to you?”
He looked at Bern, annoyed for the first time. He repeated:
“It’s Celia.”
"If she wants it published,” Bern sighed, “we have to publish it. But..."
"Just do it, it don't matter after that."
"It does if they start fighting again."
The Masters on The Hill never stopped arguing. Though they pretended to abide by rules for the good of humankind, they were indeed obnoxious when it came to their pride. The fight over blame for Fairfax was threatened to ruin everything.
“Well, what you are reading now is the first fight they ever had,” Jonathan argued, “so maybe it just sets the record straight for once.”
"How much do you know about the official story of their origins?”
"Lil bit. I used to be a teacher.”
Bern thought this might be a joke but Jonathan didn’t smile. Nothing like this was taught in school. Goetz was the ruler, end of story. Everything is below it, even Celia. Anything she does is with Goetz’s consent.
"So you know none of this is officially on the record. The historical account is that Goetz made Celia and taught her everything. Then Goetz got mad at her and left her alone.”
"Well, Goetz still gets mad at her in this story,” Jonathan replied, “so it's not so different."
I looked at the pages and pages of scribbled notes in front of me.
"It's a difference in tone and details," I replied. "It's a difference in everything.”
Mother of Mothers
Adapted From Celia’s Testament of an Alternate History of Creation
As Received by Jon Forth
I set my women about fortifying the walls of our fort. I created more women and had them guard the towers day and night. It was in this atmosphere that we truly bonded for the first time. Yes, I had created them, but I did not know them like I wanted to until then. I learned their quirks and subtitles, their differences from me and the many qualities that endeared them to me. I can truly say that I love the female human.
It was during this time I established daily meditations, afternoon reflections, and nightly praise sessions. This was not done for my benefit but for their own, for by looking inside themselves they would find me. And by looking at me they would find themselves. I saw all of us women as a complete circle, divorced from the things Goetz was creating. They learned this and they accepted it as truth, because it was. And so we became a union in praise of each other, determined not to let those outside of our town intrude on us.
Spaulding was kept tied to a tree, and let it be said his reputation for non compliance is well earned. He was rowdy and irritable from the moment he entered our fort. He would yell his complaints and curse at the girls. When he got loose enough to stand he would stomp his feet, causing the ground to shake. We had to tie and bind him again to muffle his rudeness.
I knew his hope was to yell until he was rescued by Goetz and his confederates could locate him. I expected this to happen. I did not want to fight but if that is what it came to then so be it. I wanted peace in the land, and this was the most efficient way.
"They're going to run over you!" he would tell me, in much harsher words. I told him he should address me as Lady.
"They're going to trash you, Lady!" His was, and is, a filthy being, but I enjoyed his humor, so long as I was in control.
"You can work with me or with them," I told him. "The choice is yours. But I would think carefully.”
He spit swore a lot at this suggestion so I put his gag back on and slept for a very long time, knowing boredom would get to him. Eventually he was worn out enough that he had to listen to me, not simply yell obscenities during our talks.
"I need a fortress on top of Sigma," I told him. "A fortress of stone that will allow me to be left alone with my ladies."
He scoffed at this.
"No stone will keep Goetz and Curson from yo
u."
"Well, I wanted a metal palace but Curson was too strong from us, so I settled on you."
He stopped talking for a long while after I said this. I left him alone to think.
I would speak to him reasonably, and he would appear to listen, then go back to his old talking points. He refused to move from the brainwashing Goetz had given him. I came to a point where I realized I must offer him a decision, and let it fall where it may.
“If you do this for me, you can be my first in line,” I told him. “The first prince, if you will.” He seemed confused by this but I don’t know why. This was a generous offer; to allow a man to help his Queen rule would was magnanimous to say the least. All he would have to do was build a castle. Maintenance would be required, of course.
“I wouldn’t work for you if you even if Goetz ordered me to!” He spat.
I drew back at this, insulted and angry. It made me realize there was nothing left of these beings; Goetz had gotten to them first. It had told them what to think and what their purpose was. I was lost among them. They would all be this way, eventually. I fell into a despair. The women did notice and they asked about me. I couldn’t explain to them. I thought about taking them into exile but the thought of running only made me frustrated. I wouldn’t let Goetz drive me away.
Goetz had told me once that it believed I could be eliminated. It had said this rather casually, as if contemplating my annihilation was good afternoon conversation. All that would have to happen was to chop someone down to bits so small that they couldn’t be reconstructed. This was its theory. I never thought about it seriously because Goetz didn’t even have hands to hold a sword.
Now I was thinking about it.
“I don’t see how to live in a place that has me and all of you within it,” I confessed to Spaulding.
He told me that I I could leave any time. I ignored him.
“I’m going to be overrun eventually,” I told him. “Goetz won’t stop making things like you. It’s going to get its way eventually.”
I was looking away from him but I could feel his mood change.