The Melted World (Worlds of Creators Book 1)

by Davi Cao

  “Was it also hard when you found out that you were Creators?” he asked.

  “Not to all, so don’t think you’re the only special one. We have sympathy for your busy troubles,” --J-- said.

  “I understood nothing at first! One moment I was fitting in with the whole community for the second time in history, and on the other I was like ‘Where is everybody? I can’t fit in here! Where are the walls?’ It was so strange, wasn’t it?” OOOO said. “But it was very interesting, and of that I was sure from the start, wasn't I? The world after mine was made of pure light, thus Creators had no footing and I thought I had reached the interior of the rocks from which my world was made up. I mean, I had died many times already, hadn’t I? I knew I wasn’t stuck in any semi-conscience realm, because full light was not how it was like, was it?”

  “And how did you find out that you could create anything?” Colin asked.

  “I imagined and I wished! Isn’t that the way? Hanging in the middle of nothing, seeing nothing, I thought about my community and I wished they were there to give me something to fit in. Then they showed up, didn’t they? And they disappeared right after, vaporized.”

  “See how similar it was to your own pleasant discovery, my dear Colin?” --J-- said.

  “I laughed at that, thinking that they died and would come to life again on their own, but they didn’t, did they? I wished for a friend again and it showed up, exploding right after it. It was so interesting, wasn’t it? Yes, so much so that I tried something else, didn't I? I imagined the big gentle eater that we used to find new kinds of us, and it appeared in front of me like the others. That was a sign, wasn’t it? A sign that I was behind those apparitions. Things got bigger and bigger from there, until the world changed again and I met others, you see?”

  “Who was the world of light's Creator?” Colin asked.

  “I never had the pleasure of meeting it. Good idea, looking for it, isn't it? I can learn a few things, can’t I?” OOOO said.

  “You can, you certainly can, my wonderful friend,” --J-- said. “Are you interested in learning about me too, Colin?”

  “Of course!” he said so with honesty, captivated by their stories, a child in front of the TV.

  “I remember being at peace. All others of my kind had dominated their respective big cathedrals, marrying all tasty humans each could find. Those were exciting times, because once the breathing was over, we found the path open to being whoever we wanted to be, not having to marry anymore. I considered the possibility of—” --J-- tried to say.

  “Wait! What do you mean by cathedrals? Were there churches in your world too?” Colin said.

  “It’s a translation issue. The intricate words I use to communicate with you are beyond my humble control, so we must talk more to make their true great meaning explicit. Our solid cathedrals were similar ideas to the planets in Terra’s universe. And they could only exist if they had one of my kind to take care of them. Romantic humans were free to come and go between beautiful cathedrals, and our passion was to breathe them and then marry as much of them as we could.”

  “I see ...” Colin said, shuddering at the idea of slavery, his mind translating –J--'s speech with his own particular repertoire.

  “As I was saying, I considered the possibility of becoming a fleshy human myself, by using my lovely spouses as a vector for transmutation. But I had little time to muse on this fascinating idea. My charming equals in other cathedrals disappeared, and the glorious cathedrals themselves merged into one huge ugly blob of exploding matter. I watched each and every one of those whom I married blend with the land and the others. Everything became one indivisible pulsing world.”

  “That’s terrible! Are you ... Are you, by chance, from a kind that misses things?” Colin said.

  “I’m not. Being a colorful bishop displeased me. I wanted to be the air that we breathed and shared with our beloved ones. When it all changed into that monstrous world, I was glad. Immediately, I imagined and wished for the dimension of fluidity and speed, and it materialized. It had an immediate impact in the colossal blob, deforming it and tearing it apart. My fate was clear to me from the start,” --J-- said.

  “Don’t forget to say that I already knew you,” OOOO said.

  “Yes, in my world, Creators interacted with creations directly. We just couldn’t marry them,” --J-- said.

  “Who sets these rules? Who says what can affect what?” Colin asked, disturbed by the laws he was far from understanding.

  “The current dominant Creator does. Right now, OOOO set those rules,” --J-- said.

  Crisalid remained blackened and frozen in its place, and it had been so during the entire conversation. No signs of melting. Colin learned more about the power that he had and considered his choices. If he ever got Terra back, he could inflict any change that he wanted in it. Infinite wealth to everybody, indestructible environmental balance, faster than light travel, reversal of entropy ... Anything that his imagination could conceive!

  “I admit that your worlds seem like interesting places. Much better than this one right now, for example,” he said.

  “You really don’t like it? Look again, you have to see how nice it is, don't you?” OOOO said.

  “My dear Colin, we want nice intensity, and we can’t have nice intensity if we don’t have big contrast. We need as many different world views as we can find. This is how we survive,” --J-- said.

  “I’m trying to understand it, ok? It’s still not convincing enough, though. What if we find the perfect world? The one where everybody is happy and nobody ever suffers. Isn’t that world worth saving forever?” Colin asked.

  “We sometimes have worlds like these. They’re boring as hell, aren’t they?” OOOO said.

  “To most of us, yes. That’s why they end quickly, or violently, because their Creators usually don’t react to boredom the same way we do,” --J-- said.

  “Oh, I know one of these lovers of utopias! A human Creator named Alana. Isn’t that right?” OOOO said.

  “I never met her in person, I’m sorry. I saw only a few others pushing for similar ideas, all of them nonhuman,” --J-- answered.

  “We should have a method of finding others like us in an easier way, shouldn’t we? Speaking of that, where is the other one?” OOOO said.

  “The other one? You mean the dust snake?” Colin asked.

  “It didn’t return yet, did it? Did something go wrong?” OOOO hopped fast around the others to push them against the blocky Creator and stay in the middle of their bodies.

  “It could be lost. Let me go out looking for it,” --J-- said.

  “What if he melted down, OOOO?” Colin said after --J-- ran away like a racing car.

  OOOO’s pupils contracted to a tiny dot in the gray spheres of its eyes. Its large mouth arched down and its pointy teeth all slid together to meet in the center of its skull. It turned its head slowly to Colin's direction, and it moved its spidery legs in a mechanical march towards him. He stood by the blocky Creator's side, and as OOOO approached him with its comic worried look, he stepped sideways, only to realize that the creature looked for him.

  He pushed his back against the flickering bas-relief behind him, scared of OOOO’s strange coming. It brushed its disheveled dense hair on Colin’s belly and pressed him hard on the blocky Creator, involving his body with its many legs. It then stayed there, with a look of apprehension fixed at the horizon.

  “You st ... Stop this! What are you doing?” Colin said.

  “I need to fit in, we have to fit in, don’t we? I need it, yes, I don’t want to think of not fitting in—”

  “The World Voice is coming to you too, isn’t it?”

  “Creators shouldn't melt, it’s too bad if it happens.” OOOO tried to climb on Colin’s head, its big size getting in the way of its intention.

  “You should create a shield,” the blocky Creator said to Colin.

  “To avoid melting down?” he asked.

  “Yes, you and the oth
ers. You’re the only one so far who can do it. Look at Crisalid. Firm as nothing else in this world.”

  “And probably dead. If OOOO, the World Voice’s creator, can’t shield itself, why should I worry?”

  “Because then you can create more.”

  “I don’t want to create! I want my world back. Please, is that too much to ask? You can all go on with your existence, you can spend all eternity creating whatever you want! My wish is not for something new, it is for something that already existed, that was good in its own way and that served me well.”

  “You wouldn’t even try to make it better?” the blocky Creator said.

  “What is better?” Colin said.

  “More interesting.”

  “It was interesting enough. We had stories to tell for generations, up to infinity.”

  “You wouldn’t even consider turning it into a Utopia? It would be good for a Creator who doesn’t like suffering.”

  “I want things exactly the way they were. That was home, you know? It had its problems, it had many challenges to overcome. But isn’t that the fun of it? To overcome them? So, no, no Utopia, please. Only Terra, the way it was. That’s the world I learned to love.”

  “You have too much potential to be stuck with the ghost of a world,” the blocky Creator said.

  “If I am stuck there, allow me to be so. It’s an experience, isn’t it? It’s interesting to you, isn’t it? So, learn with me and help me to get my world back. I’ll fight until the end for it! Isn’t that a story worth following?” Colin said.

  After hugging him with the full embrace of its legs, OOOO loosened its grip and stood again on the ground. It hopped next to Crisalid, touching it with one of its cylindrical feet, and hid behind it, looking at Colin. It fixed its eyes on the human’s firm stance, his clenched fists and his raised chest, tense like no other Creator he saw in the past worlds. It then left its protection and smiled again.

  “He’s right. He can create a great story with his quest, can’t he?” OOOO said.

  “Indeed, he can. Climb over me, both of you. I’m going to take you to New York, as promised,” the blocky Creator said.

  ∙ 13 ∙ Mountain Creator

  Mounted on top of the blocky Creator, Colin blinked and Crisalid disappeared. The landscape faded as well, replaced by a different setting, one marked by giant shapes and tall ruins. The group reappeared in a valley, surrounded by round mounds of melted buildings. The slimy surface in which they stood grew higher little by little. Soon the world would become a flat pool of Terra’s ruins.

  “Are you sure we’re in the right place?” Colin said.

  “Yes, Manhattan Island, 11th Avenue, as requested,” the blocky Creator said.

  “This is where Mae used to live, isn’t it? Chelsea Park, I remember it! I just can’t see it, can I?” OOOO said.

  “I’ve never been here when it was intact, and I have no idea of what we should see in this place. Either way, It’s not New York anymore ... In which building did she live?” Colin said.

  “Here, I’ll show you.”

  OOOO and Colin jumped to the ground and moved a few steps in the mud. The blocky Creator waited in place. They got near a mound of dismantled steel and concrete, the place where OOOO hoped to find anything interesting. Colin climbed the small hill of soft detritus, sinking his feet in a gray mass of slime and small bits of artifacts, dunes of liquid plastic.

  On the horizon, a bumpy line of round ruins was a picture of desolation. Tall mountains of melted buildings emerged at a distance, in the densest neighborhoods of former times. In the mound beneath him, Colin found no entrance of any sort, no object to give him any indication of Mae’s whereabouts, just like the giant city's corroded scenery indicated nothing of value.

  A sad place, joining in the rest of the world's misery. Buildings in a state of decomposition flowed down the streets and buried the mighty avenues in rivers of melted matter. Waves of glass, rubber, steel, and concrete reached the waters and became one with it.

  “Don’t you want to visit any other place? It’s interesting even when melted, isn’t it? Let’s take a look at the skyline!” OOOO said.

  “What’s your suggestion?”

  “Ellis Island!”

  They took another ride on the blocky Creator, who placed them in the lookout point where the One World Trade Center's skeleton reigned majestic above Lower Manhattan. Mere morbid curiosity guided Colin, a silly hope of seeing anything still recognizable, any sign of Terra’s former glory.

  “I thought the big one would resist longer. It looks like a finger coming out of the mud now, doesn’t it?” OOOO said.

  “Yes, and all the rest is the same. You were right. We’ll never find Mae in here,” Colin said.

  “We probably won’t, will we? But we can try. Trekking is one of our joys, isn’t it? Games and sightseeing, yes, that’s the way of a Creator!”

  “Can she hear us if we yell loud enough?”

  “Maybe. It will be hard to compete against the World Voice, though.”

  The great pillar of light glowed in the distance, casting anguishing rays as far as the islet where they rested. After teleporting so far from it, Colin expected to escape its presence, at least while it covered the distances that set the continents apart. Instead, it dragged New York into its gloomy depression.

  “Is there any place in this world where we can’t see the Voice’s pillar?” he said.

  “Haha, no! Funny, isn’t it? It is alone in here, sure, but it is divided in simultaneous projections. It can sweep the whole planet at once, in multiple perspectives, and yet it is one, isn’t it?” OOOO said.

  “That’s terrible. And boring too, you know? Where’s the fun in admiring a landscape that’s the same everywhere you look?”

  “The World Voice running after us, aware of our probability, and unable to reach us. We, the immortals, fleeing from it. That’s the fun, isn’t it?”

  On top of the blocky Creator, they got back to Manhattan. They showed up over of a big mound, and looking around they found nothing of interest. OOOO got down, hopping fast to sweep the entire block. It stopped in front of a half-melted object that Colin couldn’t see well from the distance. It took it with three of its limbs and brought it to him. Balanced between faltering feet, the smooth glass screen of a tablet reflected Colin's face.

  “Mae loved these things,” OOOO said.

  “Almost everybody did. We could do a lot with these small computers,” Colin said.

  “We often created new material for media consumers, did you know that?”

  “No, but that’s something I can believe. You were creators just like we were.”

  “In a way, yes, you were inventive. Too limited by your own circumstances, though, weren’t you?”

  “Who isn’t?” Colin crouched on the blocky Creator, in the middle of a hostile world that melted things.

  “You want to look for more interesting things, don’t you?” OOOO said.

  “Could we go to Central Park? It seemed to be so nice that I bet we will find others in there.”

  They teleported to the Sheep Meadow area, the wide grassy plain where city dwellers and tourists sunbathed surrounded by skyscrapers. It had become a gray swamp, however, melted down to the point of complete destruction. It had small mountains of flowing debris by its edges, gel-like matter that invaded the park's borders and turned it into a valley.

  “Mae! Mae! I want to talk to you! Mae!” Colin yelled, stepping down to walk with freedom and express his wish.

  “Here! Here! Here! It’s OOOO, isn't it, show up, whenever you are!” OOOO shouted to help.

  “You need a better plan,” the blocky Creator said.

  “Then tell me what’s your idea. Is there anybody else to ask for her? Do you see any trace of her presence? If she’s around, she might hear us and come speak with us,” Colin said.

  “I don’t want to interfere with your actions, as my interest is in watching your story unfold. So, do as you please
,” the blocky Creator said. “But remember, you’re a Creator. You can create helpful things.”

  OOOO, paralyzed in place, spreading its legs to make a wide dotted circle with their tips. With the force of its will, it materialized a huge disc in the middle of what used to be the largest park lawn. The creation rocketed itself up in a slow rise to the sky.

  It had a round top with a slender long neck and a belt of voluminous messy straps at the bottom. As it ascended, it released pulses of light that whitened everything and emitted loud bangs that hurt even Colin’s indestructible ears.

  He loved it. The help that he looked for in companionship, OOOO’s explosive rocket, releasing four blows and imploding in the middle of the fifth, taken by the world's sadness. Its last explosion came down with a timbre of a moan, overflowing with pleasure, gifting a moment of joy to its creator.

  “Ironic, isn’t it? I always try to leave something out of my control. I adore surprises, don't I?” OOOO said.

  “That was a good idea. Whoever is living around here will certainly hear us,” Colin said.

  “Only if they want to, you see?”

  “Why wouldn’t Mae want to hear to us?”

  “She might wish for some time on her own, might she not?”

  Colin imagined a giant loudspeaker. A machine able to emit a message so loud and clear that his search would be heard by the entire universe. He bore the powers of Creators, didn't he, he could do whatever fitted in his imagination! A loudspeaker.

  He focused on the object’s primary duty, he sketched a few of its details, and he blended a bit of Crisalid’s thoughts with it, so that it could hope to stand the world’s inherent hostility to Terran matter for a while at least.

  It materialized. It was huge, rivaling in height the melted skyscrapers on the horizon. OOOO backed away, surprised at the sudden apparition. The blocky creator disappeared at a wink from its resting place and reappeared for short moments in multiple angles all over the huge loudspeaker.