by Steve LeBel
“She doesn’t have feelings. You have to have a soul to have feelings,” Lenny declared. “Everything you see in a creation like Sissy is an instinct or a learned response that mimics emotions. They don’t feel a thing.”
Sissy responded with even louder clucking sounds.
“I don’t know, Lenny. It sounds like Sissy’s upset with what you said.”
“Nope. It’s not possible. She has intelligence, but definitely no feelings. I can show you the books to prove it.”
Suzie reached over to stroke Sissy. “What do you think, Sissy? Do you have feelings?” Sissy’s clucking changed to purring.
“I don’t think we agree with you or your books, Lenny.”
“It’s called anthropomorphism. Untrained people like you make that mistake all the time. You’re projecting your own feelings onto something that doesn’t have any. Builders are highly trained to avoid that mistake,” said Lenny with finality.
Sissy clucked. Suzie shook her head.
“I think Sissy and I agree with Bernie,” she said.
We Must Explain
The inner circle of priests and priestesses had assembled with great haste. No one dared to keep Speaker Zardok waiting. Especially not lately.
“Members of the Inner Council, these are evil times,” Zardok began as he called the meeting to order. “Evil is everywhere. It has killed our people, destroyed our cities, burned our forests, and now it corrupts our night sun. This evil must be fought. Every time it stands unchallenged, our people pay for it with their lives. We cannot allow this foul power to continue its advance against us or against the people we serve in the name of the Sun.
“This evil has spawned another evil, and we must be equally vigilant against it. It is the evil from within. Everyone suffers from confusion and doubt, but some have chosen not to cast these demons out. Instead, they have embraced them. These defectors have claimed our temples and have begun teaching their own distorted versions of the truth.
“We may be powerless to stop them, but we must not allow this to happen again. If the Temple and the people we serve are to survive, we must preserve our resources and strength. We cannot allow these things to be taken by defectors and splinter groups who think they have found answers when we cannot.
“I submit these groups formed because we were slow in giving direction and interpretations to the people, and without answers, they fell victim to false beliefs. Henceforth, we must respond more quickly, so people see us leading in this battle against evil. Can I assume this is clear to everyone?”
No one challenged his statement.
“Then let us discover answers in this matter of the night sun,” said Zardok. “Who wishes to begin?”
Lord Noseter was the first to stand. “I think we can make some suppositions. The bloody color of the night sun tells us it has been grievously hurt. This much is obvious. Also, we can see, in spite of its hurt, it still shines. From this, we have proof it yet lives. The unresolved question is whether it has been struck a mortal blow or whether the night sun can recover. If it’s possible for the night sun to recover, we must consider any actions we can take to aide its recovery.”
As Lord Noseter took his seat, the Lady Eonis stood. “I see this differently, Lord Noseter. It is not blood I see on the face of the night sun. It is anger that we see. We have done something to displease Him. If you need further proof, consider the light He bestows on us. It has been muted. In His anger, He denies us the full gift of His light.”
The next to stand was the Priestess Ximow, long noted for her wisdom and her ability to see clearly. Ximow said, “Honorable members of the Council, I believe we’re approaching this question in the wrong way. Consider: we’ve already determined the night sun to be a gift from the Sun. It is a thing created by our Sun and nothing more. If it appears different to us, we should not ask ‘What is wrong with it?’ We should ask instead ‘What is the Sun trying to tell us?’ I believe the Sun has a message for us, and He’s using the night sun to deliver it. Our task is to understand the message.”
Zardok scanned the room. Ximow’s words had resonated with the Council. “Let us consider Ximow’s argument further. Ximow, please continue.”
“Yes, Speaker. Please consider the night sun for a moment. It’s a source of light that chases away the darkness. This alone makes it a wondrous gift. But I believe it’s more. I believe the night sun is a tapestry upon which the Sun paints his messages.
“We’ve already seen one message. Tonight’s message is the second. The first message was delivered as we watched the night sun being consumed night after night until it wasted away to nothing. There have been many interpretations, but I submit the Sun is showing us the future. I believe He’s telling us His light will soon be extinguished. I believe He’s using the night sun to show us—”
The Council was not ready to hear these words. Protests broke out from all quarters. Zardok sat stunned. Finally, he said, “No. I reject this idea. The Sun is immortal. Nothing can harm Him.”
“Speaker, if you order it, I will say no more. But I pray you let me continue. If, Sun forbid, I’m correct, the Sun may not survive without our help.”
In ordinary times, Zardok would have wasted no more time on Ximow’s preposterous idea. But these were not ordinary times. It was hard to deny the parallel between the Sun that lights the day and the new night sun that lights the night. Perhaps the Sun did create the night sun to deliver its messages. It arrived before any of the disasters. Perhaps the Sun has been trying to warn us, he thought, and we failed to listen.
Zardok had no choice. He held up his hand to silence the others. “I feel a fool for listening to these ideas, Ximow, but I concede if there is even the smallest chance you are right, we must consider your thoughts.”
“Speaker, I assure you I take no pleasure in putting these ideas forth,” Ximow said.
“Continue.” Zardok steeled himself for her unwelcome ideas.
“As I said, the first message was to tell us the Sun may be consumed. I believe these disasters have led to a weakening of the Sun. I believe the red color is His way of telling us He fears grievous injury.”
“Why is the injury something that has not yet happened?” asked Zardok. “You theorize our Sun can be harmed. If this is true, then surely He has been harmed already by one or more of the tragedies we’ve already suffered.”
“I believe the messages speak of things yet to come. Consider the first message. We saw it portrayed on the face of the night sun before the disasters began. So too, I believe the blood tells us of something yet to be.”
“Do you have any further interpretation for us?”
“Just one more thought, Speaker. I ask this question: Why would the Sun tell us of things yet to be? He must believe telling us can make a difference, that we can help in some way. But I have no idea what that could be,” said Ximow, her voice trailing off at the end.
“Ximow, I thank you for your thoughts. You were right to speak them,” said Zardok.
He turned to the full Council and said, “I caution everyone here to keep these words inside this room. If the people heard them, nothing good could come of it.
“So where do we go from here? I remind you, we must have answers before the dawn,” said Zardok.
“Speaker, I council caution,” said Lord Spekon. “There are no answers we can provide by dawn that will satisfy the people. The people already whisper the Sun has not been able to stave off these disasters. If we tell them our Sun is in mortal fear for His life, there will be panic everywhere.”
The Lady Eonis stood and said, “You are right, Lord Spekon. May I suggest we tell the people something they will find easier to accept? Let us tell them the red night sun is a sign our Sun has begun fighting the evil forces. Tell them it’s His promise that He will keep us safe as He always has. This will give the people reason to hope. It will also give us time to find answers.”
“I do not like deceit, Lady,” Zardok said with a frown. “But I fe
ar what would happen if the people lost hope.”
Zardok sat in silence as he considered. Finally he turned to Lady Eonis and said, “We will tell the people your story, Lady, though I do not like it. We will do it because we must not let the people lose faith in the Sun. Meanwhile, this Council will unravel the mystery of what the Sun is really trying to tell us.
“If He needs our help, we must not fail Him.”
Getting Discouraged
Journal Entry
It’s Billy’s first day back from vacation, and he’s already back at it. This time, he turned Suzie’s moon red. I can’t find anything else he did. I changed it back to yellow.
I can’t think of a way to stop him. There has to be something. Suzie thinks confronting him will make him more destructive. She is usually right about that stuff. That leaves me with only defensive strategies, which is almost impossible. Building is very complex. The more advanced I make my world, the more ways there are for Billy to destroy it—my job gets harder while his gets easier.
It has been days since I’ve done any real building. I can’t concentrate. Every time I think of something, I also think of how easily Billy can wreck it. How in the world can I stop someone who is as powerful as I am?
Honestly, I’m discouraged. I’m afraid I’m going to get fired. Nothing I’ve done is going to impress Shemal. Why should it? My universe wouldn’t get a passing grade back in school. I can’t let it end like this. There has got to be something I can do.
You know what bugs me the most? It’ll break Mom’s heart. She’s sacrificed so much for me. If I fail, what’s it all been worth?
Maybe Isaiah will give me a job at the bookstore.
A Little Breeze
The time lever jammer had been hard on Billy. It had taken days to get his strength back. However, as his strength returned, so too did his anger. And with new anger came new ideas.
He routinely visited the Lab-1 and Lab-2 continents to see if Bernie had been working on anything new, but all he ever found were the plants. So he contented himself with tormenting every green thing he could find.
Bernie’s lack of creativity when he chose a simple model for his world made it harder. If his land mass was more spread out, instead of being a flat little sausage around the equator, he could use it to generate water and wind currents. But he imagined Bernie didn’t want those variables in his world. It meant a little more work for him, but he didn’t mind at all.
High above the atmosphere, Billy pushed and pulled the air below him. Even Billy was affected by the beauty of the swirls and twists of the air as it churned below. He was the conductor of an orchestra, gesturing with his arms, warming it here, chilling it there, as he performed his tasks. His arms were not needed for this work—everything he did, was with the power of his mind. But it was simple work, and he enjoyed the feeling of potency as the whirling clouds seemed to obey his hands.
He grabbed and twisted the storm in an ever-faster counterclockwise direction as he prepared it for the northern coast. Above the swirling center of his storm, he chilled the air above. With downward motions of his hands, as if directing the brass section of an orchestra, he sent cold air down the funnel of his storm toward the ocean below. When it arrived, he did not wait for the warm ocean to heat the cold air. Instead, he turned his palms upward and, with swift jerking motions directed at the trumpet section of his mind, he heated the air himself. It was short work to produce this monster storm. It was even shorter work to nudge it toward the waiting coast.
The conductor god continued his symphony through three more movements, changing the tempo of each movement as he created the next storm. Each one was a masterpiece of destruction. By the time Billy reached the finale, he was exhilarated by what he had done.
Each of the four great storms would gather ever more strength as they spiraled toward landfall. His only regret was not being able to use his time lever to observe the damage.
He would have to leave that fun for Bernie.
Oh, Do Tell…
Suzie was only half listening as Bernie and Lenny talked about design strategies for Bernie’s universe. She liked to make suggestions when she could, but it was hard when you only understood one of every three words. It was a welcome distraction to see Sissy’s antenna waving at her.
“Well, hello, Sissy. How have you been?”
The small lump of fur made a clucking sound.
“Are you still upset, Sissy? Do you want to tell me what’s wrong? I’ll listen to you.” She cooed as the little piece of fur crept closer to her. Sissy dropped the little chain that kept her attached to Lenny and arched her head and wiggled her antenna.
Suzie held out her finger as Sissy crawled on. “You want to come talk to me, Sissy? I’ll be happy to talk to you. The boys don’t even know we’re here right now, do they? We might as well have a little girl time,” she cooed.
Suzie heard the clucking sound change to purring as Sissy crawled onto her hand. Suzie smiled. “Yes, Sissy. I like you too. We’ll have a nice little talk while the boys talk about boring stuff, okay? You know, I think you’re getting cuter every day, Sissy. Did you know that? Yes, I think you are,” Suzie declared as the purring continued.
“Do you want anything to eat? Last time, you liked the vegetables a lot. Do you want some today?” Suzie was surprised as she heard Sissy’s purring change to a popping sound. She reached over for her salad and offered it to Sissy, who continued to make a soft popping sound. Sissy made no movement toward the food.
“Okay. It looks like you aren’t hungry. What do you want to talk about? Can you make other sounds? I know you can purr and Lenny said you make the clucking sound when you’re upset. And now you made a little popping sound. Can you make other sounds?”
Sissy responded with a very soft, hard to hear, “Ye-ye-ye.”
Suzie’s eyes widened. “Are you trying to talk with me, Sissy?”
“Ye-ye-ye.”
“Does that mean yes?”
“Ye-ye-ye.”
“Does that mean no?” Suzie asked, expecting to hear the ye-ye-ye again.
“Pop-pop-pop,” said Sissy very softly.
“Oh, my. Can you understand me, Sissy?” asked an astonished Suzie as she raised Sissy closer to get a better look at her.
“Ye-ye-ye.”
“Lenny, can Sissy talk?” Suzie asked. She had to ask again before she was able to break into the intense conversation going on. Apparently, when someone is discussing geothermal design, it makes them partially deaf, she thought.
Lenny rolled his eyes, clearly miffed at the interruption. “No. She makes different sounds, but they’re random, except for the purring and clucking,” he said as he turned back to Bernie.
“Is that right, Sissy?” Suzie asked.
“Pop-pop-pop.”
“You really do understand me, don’t you?”
“Ye-ye-ye.”
“Can you tell me why you’ve been upset?”
“Ye-ye-ye.”
“Are you mad at Lenny?”
“Ye-ye-ye.”
“Is he hurting you?”
“Pop-pop-pop.”
“Do you like Lenny?”
“Ye-ye-ye.”
“Do you like Lenny a lot?”
“Ye-ye-ye.”
“Is it something Lenny is doing?”
“Ye-ye-ye.”
Suzie thought for a moment. She asked, “Are you upset about Candi?”
“Ye-ye-ye.”
“Is Candi doing something to harm Lenny?”
“Pop-pop-pop.”
“Is Candi doing something to harm Bernie?” Suzie asked suspiciously.
“Pop-pop-pop.”
Suzie looked at the tiny lump of fur on her hand. She recalled Lenny’s frustration because plans to see Candi were running into problems. She also remembered Sissy’s power to change, if ever so slightly, the probability of future events.
“Have you been trying to keep Lenny and Candi apart?” she asked in as even a ton
e as she could.
“Ye-ye-ye.”
“Sissy. Are you jealous?”
Silence. Then, “Ye-ye-ye.”
Suzie drew in a long slow breath as she looked at the tiny creature in her hand. “I have a very important question, Sissy. Are you sure Candi is no threat to any of us?”
“Ye-ye-ye.”
“Then, Sissy, I think I should tell Lenny about this. If he understands what’s going on, maybe he can make it better. Is that okay?”
Silence. Then, “Ye-ye-ye.”
“Lenny, we have to tell you something,” said Suzie. Although she tried to interrupt, it was clear the best theoretical model for conceptualizing particles as they fell into black holes was more important. She had to poke Lenny to get his attention.
“What?” he exclaimed, blinking as if suddenly discovering himself in a brightly lit room.
“Sissy can talk,” said Suzie. She watched as Lenny began his eye-roll again. “No. Listen to me, Lenny. Sissy and I have been talking. She makes a ‘ye-ye-ye’ sound for ‘yes’ and a ‘pop-pop-pop’ sound for ‘no.’”
“I told you she makes random sounds. They don’t mean anything,” Lenny insisted. It was clear he wanted to get back to black holes and string theory.
The problem with these guys, thought Suzie, is sometimes you have to smack them really hard to get their attention. So she said, “Sissy has been keeping you and Candi apart.”
Suzie watched Lenny’s expression go from impatient indulgence to full attentiveness in less than zero point four milliseconds. Lenny believed Sissy could affect his life.
“That’s nuts. Why would she do that?” Lenny asked doubtfully.
“She’s jealous of Candi.”
“How can she be jealous? She doesn’t have any feelings to be jealous with.”
This produced an alternating string of clucking and popping sounds. Lenny stared at the little piece of fur as he held stubbornly to his position.