"No, but—"
"But what?" He was shouting. "Tomorrow that man might steal from another to feed his family and this adopted child. Should he not be removed from existence? Should he not be forced to watch his children sicken and die?" His voice was thick with caustic venom.
"Well, no, but—"
"Theft is wrong! It is a law. Men call it my law—"
"But the circumstances—"
"So!" He smiled. "You would investigate the circumstances? There are over seven billion human beings on the planet right now. Every second more are born or die. Would you have me investigate the circumstances of every soul and destroy those that do not meet—what criteria, Carmaterdea? What would make it acceptable to snuff out the existence of a single human being? What if the child I kill, right now, would have been the one to cure a deadly disease? What if that child was destined to save thousands from one of Gaia's stirrings? Would it still be acceptable?"
"But there shouldn't be disease! You can fix everything. You can make all men equal, all water drinkable, you can eradicate disease and hunger! You can—"
"I can observe, and attempt to guide. I am bereft of the power to do more." His smile was gone in a blink.
"Can you not appeal to the other gods? Surely you have served penance enough!"
"See? You do have a strong sense of justice. But who would care for the humans while I am gone? I cannot leave that burden to you. I would return to Gaia awakened and everything destroyed." Prometheus tilted his head down, looking at her from beneath his brow, as the corners of his mouth flirted with a smile.
"No. I would not destroy it. I will give you my oath."
"An oath I can trust, coming from the protégé of Justitia. A bargain, then? You take my place here for the time it takes to travel to Atlantis, appeal to the Gods, receive their judgement and return. And upon my return?"
"I return your domain to your care."
"You will not wake Gaia?"
"I will not allow her to rouse in your absence."
"Earth is yours, goddess." Just like that, he vanished.
Carmaterdea surveyed her temporary domain, suddenly unsure of herself. Everywhere she focussed, she still saw anger, fear, violence.... How was she to rule this domain? Could she simply observe, as Prometheus had? Was she to do nothing to improve the existence of these humans?
For several days, she held herself in check, only observing. War, disease, hunger, death; these things occurred every second. Murder, torture, pollution, suicide; they weighed upon her heavily. Oppression, abuse, and rape; she could barely control her righteous anger. She found hope too, though, and laughter, and love, now that she knew how to search for it. These things are what kept her from breaking her oath. The goodness of some humans, despite the evil running amok in the world, redeemed these humans and tugged at her sympathy. When she could watch no more, she bade the angels attend her, and opened her mind to the voices of the people.
They came in a flood, nearly drowning her sanity. So many still prayed! Some prayed with humility, many in fear. Some begged for mercy, money, or forgiveness. A few pleaded for others who could, or would not pray for themselves. There were so many! How could she choose which to answer first? Millions of souls were on the verge of losing faith, sanity, and the very will to continue living. She sent the angels away.
She had the power to make change, and none of the constraints placed upon Prometheus. Why should she not repair this world before he returned? With a wave of her hand, Carmaterdea, new Goddess of Earth, cleared the air and healed the atmosphere. A burst of power cleared the waters. Natural springs rose to create ponds and lakes where the people needed.
~Thousands of species were thrown into shock at the sudden change. The waters rose and carcasses washed onto shore in the thousands. "Apocalypse! The end days!" many screamed. The fear and violence increased. Riots and panic spread. ~
Carm saw the chaos and rushed to repair the damage. She reversed everything, including the perception of time, and began anew. This time, she knew to protect the species in the ocean when she cleansed the water, by making the purification a gradual process that would continue without her supervision. The springs only trickled and created puddles, rather than ponds.
~"A miracle!" people cried. "Proof that our God has not abandoned us!"~
It was good.
The goddess turned her attention to the fauna, concentrating on the edible and desirable foodstuffs. Crops the world over bloomed at her desire, and the food became plentiful.
~Another miracle!" The humans were rapturous! ~
Her next task was disease. The most insidious and deadly types, like Cancer, HIV, Sclerosis, Parkinson's, Dementia, Crohns, immune disorders and mental illnesses, she stopped from progressing. Once she'd set the slow reversal of terminal illnesses in motion, she turned to the non-terminal but debilitating plagues. Soon, even the common cold could not find a host body weak enough to inhabit.
With the increase in health, food and clean water, the population clusters spread out. This was good. Less concentration of humans meant less taxation on resources, and less energy Carm had to spend to stave off the damage to the work she had done thus far. Unfortunately, the humans' breeding rate increased, forcing her to render all females temporarily sterile.
Everything was working so well and the goddess was pleased—until she looked beyond the conspicuous, to the perfidious evil still lurking in mankind.
~Countries still warred against each other, and people against their governments. Politicians tried to seize control of the increased resources to retain control over the masses. Religious leaders tried to claim credit for the miracles Carm had wrought. Greed still ruled the world. Even as the poor rejoiced at the bounty, the wealthy attempted to cling to their status and increase their power. ~
*****
Carmaterdea had tried to maintain Prometheus' enigmatic omnipotence, but it was failing, even after nearly a decade. Anger and compassion warred within the goddess. Compassion won, but only by grace of her understanding that humans could not help but behave as the gods they'd been created to emulate. Only the humans' lack of real power separated them from their archetypes. Their appetite for dominance was just as monstrous. The time had come to reveal herself to the people. She chose the United Nations as her theatre.
~Every leader in the world, elected, royal, or dictator suddenly found himself standing in the assembly hall at the Palais des Nations, in Geneva. Each of them was frightened and confused. They had no way of knowing that the rest of the world was frozen in time. Not one of these powerful men and woman had experienced any sensation of travelling to the place they found themselves now, the only representative of their respective countries. Each was dressed for business, despite the fact that nearly a quarter of them had been sleeping only a blink ago. ~
The noise was intense, as most of the assemblage shouted their bewilderment or fear. A bolt of lightning struck the dais, thunder shook the walls, and the abrupt silence that followed felt like death. A man shouted, the fear in his voice wrenching everyone's attention to him. One by one, they sought the source of his horror, following his gaze. Their own gasps, shouts and screams followed. Where the dais had been, a woman stood, three times the size of the largest man, six arms extended and six hands spread in the universal sign for "stop."
When she spoke, every person in the room heard and understood, as though she spoke every language at once.
"Each of you claims control of your people, yet not one of you has the right. Some of you attempt to lead, yet few of you have the integrity. You have a choice to make now. You will be messengers, and deliver my words to your people, or you will be relieved of your irrelevant titles."
One man found his voice. His already dusky complexion darkened, his eyes narrowed in disbelief and anger. "Who are you to impose your will on us? I have been chosen by my people to lead—"
"Chosen out of fear, lies and manipulation! I am Carmaterdea. I am your goddess."
&nbs
p; "Not my goddess!" This was a woman, pale as an ice flow and twice as cold. "I have a deity, thank you, and there is no room in my life for another. I don't know what kind of trick this is, but I will not be frightened by special effects and bullied b—"
~One of the men screamed as her mouth vanished. Her skin stretched in a seamless, pale sheet from her chin to the base of her nose. She reached up to touch the place where her lips had been, her eyes bulged a little, and she collapsed, unconscious. ~
"I. Am. Your. Goddess!" Carm spoke the words quietly, yet they struck each listener like a quartet of bullets. No one moved, or uttered a sound. "I will give you the words to tell your people. You will not add to them, change them or fail to deliver every word, exactly as I have given it to you. These words will be etched into your memory. You will not be permitted to forget them. I will send each of you to your home now. When you arrive, you will prepare to address your people. In exactly twenty-four of your hours, you will begin your speech. You will feel the moment to begin. It will be as though you speak in one voice, but in your many languages. Your religious leaders will speak the same words to their people. When you are finished, the sky will change to crimson, a sign of confirmation. This planet, and its people, will begin a new existence in that instant. Go!"
Another bolt of lightning flashed in the hall, but there was no one there to see it.
The scene repeated in St. Peter's Square in Vatican City, though the leaders of the world's various religions had taken, surprisingly, more convincing than the political leaders. An elderly Archbishop had succumbed to the shock, and suffered a fatal stroke. When Carm, now five times human size, reached out with one great hand, several members of her captive audience attacked her. Holy water, staves, ceremonial knives, crosses, swords, and fists, none of them harmed her in any way. All but the bones shattered on contact with her assumed flesh. She resurrected the poor Archbishop, calming his mind as she healed his body. When this second audience had their instructions, she emptied the square, and returned to Olympus.
Would Prometheus be pleased with her changes, she wondered? Would he be grateful? Would her plan work? Without the restrictions the god had suffered, Carm was confident that she could repair this world. When God returned, he would find his humans healthy, happy and living in unified peace. Yes, she was certain of her success, and her uncle's gratitude.
She had wrought her changes morally. It might have been simpler to change the perspective of every human, simply by imposing her will on their minds. The task would be monumental, however, and draining to her power. Somehow, it did not seem ethical to compel these creatures. Free will was so carefully implanted in their design; she would have to unmake every one of them to change it.
~Twenty-four hours later, all of Earth's leaders stood before their people. Light enveloped the planet, and it was day in every country, regardless of the clock. At precisely the same moment, each of them began to speak. Five world leaders were assassinated by their own bodyguards, within seconds of beginning their speeches. Carm felt their life forces fail, and had to stop time to heal them, and reverse it to return each of them to the moment they had stopped speaking. One man died five times before he finished his speech. Many of his people declared him the Anti-Christ. ~
The speeches were brief and direct. The second coming was here and God was a goddess, the people were told. The laws of this goddess were simple and unyielding.
"All human beings are equal. Each man, woman and child will be provided everything they needed to survive, and thrive, in equal quantities. Trading those necessities is prohibited. Theft, murder and war are forbidden. Politics, organized religion and money are banned. The laws will be upheld by the goddess, and no other."
The people of the world were warned to look to the sky for the confirmation of their words. Every one of the leaders concluded their speech with their resignation. All government was disbanded, all religious organizations dissolved, all financial institutions rendered fruitless.
~Chaos set in, immediately. Panic and fear became looting and murder, within minutes of the return of the pale blue sky. ~
*****
Carm was exhausted. She had stopped time so often in the six Earthly days since she'd set her plan in motion, to resurrect the dead, halt wars, convert individuals, and enforce her laws, she'd finally frozen it indefinitely, just to rest. In the first two days alone, nearly sixty percent of the population of Earth had committed suicide. The rest of the humans held them up as martyrs. Some of them had repeated the act after every resurrection, each time with more desperate methods to destroy their mortal shells.
Most of the world had succumbed to her will, now, but still she despaired. Several small cells of dissenters still existed and those who had acquiesced were not content. The goddess left the world on hold for a month, while she rethought her plan for the humans.
*****
There appeared to be no other options. The only ways Carm could think to create complete harmony on Earth, were to extinguish the lives of the remaining dissenters, or manipulate their minds to accede to her will. In the end, she took a page from Qin Shi Huang Di. Carm took them all to an uncharted part of Antarctica and petrified them. They were alive, but unaware—unconscious. When she was done, thousands of stone people created an eerie field before her. She covered the field with a glacier and rested for another eight days before she set about the task of erasing their memories from the minds of all who'd known them.
Finally, Carm had created the perfect world for the humans. She had been caretaker for just less than a decade, now, and fixed millennia of conflict and destruction. Now, she could rest until God's return.
*****
Or not. The humans weren't happy. Their endless prayers and pleas were wearing the goddess down. They had a clean environment, healthy food, pure drinking water. Carm had eliminated disease and illness. Equality was the concept they could not grasp.
She should have expected this. The gods of old were forever vying for supremacy. Humans had been designed after the gods, so of course they'd have the same base flaws. Carm tried to teach her charges, but the prayers were unchanging.
"Please, Goddess, just let me have one more..."
"I know I shouldn't ask, but if I could just have more..."
"I can't stand this anymore, please let me just..."
"Why do you allow them to stand equal to me? It isn't fair! I'm a better person than..."
"I have been faithful. I have kept your covenant. Why can I not...?"
"Shouldn't I be rewarded for my faith? My neighbour is not..."
They all wanted more. They all wanted to be better, special, exalted among their fellow humans. For everything she gave them, they wanted another. Some hoarded, some tried to bargain. Even without money, some of the humans raced to harvest more food, gather more water, and create more things they could trade or sell to make themselves wealthier. Even after months of it, of waking each day to find the fruits of their efforts had vanished, they kept trying.
"I work harder, Goddess! I deserve to have more. If another is lazy, why should she have as much as I?"
"It's not fair!"
"It's not fair!"
"It's not fair!"
Carm was losing her patience with the constant whining. Only her oath kept her from waking Gaia and letting them all die, her oath—and the innocents. For there were still good and faithful people. There were still the babies and the children, who had yet to learn such greed and envy. There were so many who were simply grateful for all she had given. How could she condemn those, with the others?
She could not.
*****
Prometheus approached his domain with a mixture of joy and trepidation. His trip to Atlantis had been the same, and ended in a most distressing visit with his kin. Debauchery and chaos ruled on the gods' new home planet. In the depths of their depravity on Earth, they had been as innocent children compared to the lives they lived now. Jupiter and Saturn, drunk with their omnipotence, ra
ped and tortured at will, gods, goddesses and Atlantians, alike. He'd waited decades for the courtesy of an audience, and been summarily dismissed with an indifferent release from his sentence. The travel, alone, had taken five years each way. Prometheus worried at what he'd find on his return.
He was pleased to see the planet so calm, at first glance. Then he realized that it wasn't merely calm, but completely still, lifeless and deathly quiet. He raced from the outer edge of the solar system, summoning Carmaterdea as he came.
She appeared before him, her assumed mouth set in a grim line.
"You swore an oath, goddess!" Dark clouds amassed over the entire planet. "Where are my people?"
"They sleep, God. They have come to no harm. In fact, they have thrived in your absence."
"You interfered." He watched her eyes narrow and lightning dance around her face.
"I have. No more. Your humans are no better than the gods, with their constant demands and grasping for power! Without the restrictions you suffered, I was able to make them a paradise. They live in comfort, security and health, and yet they forever want more!" She wore a crown of golden light and black cloud now.
"Yes, Goddess. It is how they were made. I told you. They were created to achieve supremacy over everything on this planet. To—"
"To rape Gaia of her resources, pollute what they do not strip, and war with each other? They are the gods, with less power, and more greed and hatred."
"It is not in a human to be content with enough. They must always desire to improve and excel, or wither away in apathy and boredom. Your mistake was giving them everything, young one. If they do not work for it, pine for it, if they do not earn it, they will not appreciate it. It is the way of god and man." She resented the way he spoke to her, as though she were ignorant.
"It is a horrible way. I assume that Jupiter or Saturn saw fit to relieve you of your constraints. I suggest you simply cleanse the worst of them and begin anew, or scour them all and move on."
"They are still my children, Goddess. I cannot do that. In fact, I cannot see that having the power to change everything has accomplished any benefit. They are not happy, you are not happy, and I am not happy. All you have wrought has been nothing more than a failed experiment. I will reverse all of it now, and resume my guardianship of Earth."
Rise of the Goddess (****All proceeds from the Rise of the Goddess anthology will go to benefit the Elliott Public Library**** Book 1) Page 6