by Mark A Labbe
“That’s the spirit, Kev. Wishes are pointless, aren’t they? You know, maybe if you pressed the button on that black cube of yours five times, you might have a fighting chance of figuring things out. Why don’t you try that? See what happens.”
Flustered and annoyed, I said, “You know, I thought you were my best friend, but I can see this has all just been part of some sick game.”
Clive smiled in his easy way and said, “I am your best friend, you moron, and anyway, you did this to yourself. This is your thing, not mine.”
“What do you mean?”
“Rules are rules, Kev,” laughed Clive.
“Bastard.”
“Indeed.”
I didn’t usually think of myself as the competitive type, but knew that deep down I was. I found that all of this doubt and maybe danger had somehow stirred something deep within, a sense of purpose and maybe even amusement. If I was playing a game, then I intended to win, and I knew I wouldn’t win standing here talking to Clive while he ate a bowl of cereal.
“You’re going to lose,” I said.
“I never do.”
That stopped me, and in that moment I realized something. This was not the first time I had played this game, or at least a game with Clive and the others.
“I’m going to win this time,” I said.
“Well, you’re not going to win unless you press the button on that black cube five times, dummy.”
The black cube. I vaguely remembered instructions for the black cube. Never press the button five times on the black cube, but why? Clive wanted me to do it, clearly he did, and I suspected he wanted me to do it in his presence, but something told me that was not the smartest thing to do.
“Tell you what, Clive. I’m going to go somewhere you will never find me, and I am going to press the button five times.”
“Suit yourself. It’s about time you did something productive.”
“You really are a bastard, aren’t you?” I said, before teleporting to a small cottage in Brimfield, Massachusetts, circa nineteen eighteen, a cottage on a lake, the only cottage on that lake at that time, a cottage I had built, one that I believed only the girl and I knew about.
I entered the cottage and went upstairs to my bedroom. There, I sat on the bed and pulled out the black cube. I heard a voice, my voice, say, “Are you sure you want to do this right now?”
I looked around, seeing nobody. I had forgotten about the voice, the voice that claimed to be me, but in that instant, I knew it was me and thought it possible that I was communicating with myself from some point in the future. Of course, that wasn’t true. In fact, the voice was nothing more than me talking to myself, or at least to other selves that inhabited my mind, selves that remembered things I did not and occasionally communicated with me, most often to warn me about things.
“I need to know what it does. Do you know what it does?” I said.
“I know, but I think you’re going to have to get the answer on your own.”
“Should I do it?”
“Should. Must. Will. I think you already know the answer, but maybe not the right answer for now,” said the voice.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Don’t you think you should be trying to figure out what the clear cube is? You know that is the biggie. Why aren’t you trying to figure that out?”
I did know the clear cube was possibly the key to everything, but had not thought about it until the voice mentioned it. “Do you know what it is?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know it is so important?”
“I don’t know, but I believe it is. Why do you think Clive wants you to press the button on the black cube five times?”
“I don’t know. He said that was the key to winning the game,” I said, feeling doubt creeping up on me.
“Maybe he was lying.”
I had to admit, the thought did cross my mind, but something told me Clive wasn’t lying to me. Perhaps he was stretching the truth, but I did not believe it was an outright lie. “I don’t think so.”
“So, are you going to do it?” said the voice.
“I think so. Why don’t you think it is a good idea?”
“I would tell you, but it is impossible for me, in my present state, to see all ends. Perhaps you should do it, perhaps not. It is not for me to say, but I believe that this might be the wrong time. Anyway, you’ve done it before, although you don’t remember it.”
“You’re me, right?”
“I am.”
“Then why are you talking in circles? You should be helping me.”
“I am helping you, you moron. Be careful.”
“Thanks,” I said, as I pressed the button five times and blacked out, my body falling to the ground.
Jesus
Precisely thirty-seven days later, my time, I woke to find I had gained almost infinite knowledge, or at least all of the knowledge of all of the beings who had ever existed in all of the infinite universes up until the point I pressed the button five times, with the exception of the girl, Clive, Jesus, Bri, and the Proth Sphere, but you should know that already if you have really been reading this story.
I could spend an infinity of ages telling you about all of the wonders of creation, all of the events, ideas, realities, all of the funny and sad things, and everything else, but that would take an infinity of ages, and we really don’t have that kind of time, or at least you don’t. Suffices to say, creation is a wonder beyond comprehension, something so ridiculously complex and beautiful that, if you had the capacity to understand, you would conclude that it is a wonder beyond comprehension, something so ridiculously complex and beautiful that if you had the capacity to understand, you would conclude that it is--well, you get the point. It is pretty damned amazing.
So, I woke up with tremendous knowledge with one thought on my mind. Why did I not have the knowledge belonging to the girl, Clive, Jesus, Bri and the Proth Sphere? There had to be a reason, but none of the knowledge I had gave me any clue what that reason was. I knew I would get nothing from the girl, Clive, Bri and the Proth Sphere, but wondered if I would have any luck with Jesus, a man I knew quite well, although I had no direct memories of interacting with him. Rather, I had the memories of those who had witnessed my interactions with him. Few of these memories offered anything telling, so I decided I would pay him a visit and see what he could tell me about this game.
At the time, Jesus was back in ancient Israel, his stomping grounds. He had this thing about going there, becoming the savior, and then getting crucified for being perhaps too good a savior. He had done this an infinity of times. A quirky guy with a big heart and a strong desire to help others, he tended not to get involved in the game. However, I wondered if he was somehow playing the game in some subtle way.
I found Jesus in ancient Nazareth, in a market, walking with Judas. Upon seeing me, Judas frowned, as he always did when he saw me, something I did not quite understand given that Judas’ memories offered no explanation for his distaste for me.
“Look who it is,” said Judas. “So, Kev, what brings you to these parts?”
“Hey, Judas. How’s it going? Do you think I could have a word with Jesus?”
“Well, we were in the middle of a conversation,” said Judas.
“Yeah, well, maybe you can continue that conversation later,” I said, annoyed.
“It’s okay, Judas. I won’t be long,” said Jesus.
“Fine. But, just tell me what you think about my idea,” said Judas.
“Look, I think you should ask for more than thirty pieces of silver, dear friend. I bet you could ask for double that. Think of all of the people we could feed with that money,” said Jesus.
“I don’t know, Jesus. The priests are real cheapskates, but I’ll try for sixty. Anyway, are you sure you really want to do this? I mean, they are going to put you through hell.”
“I know they will, but it is for the greater good,” said Jesus, patting Judas on t
he shoulder. “Now, give me a moment with Kev. We can talk about this more in a bit.”
Judas nodded and then shot me a dirty look before walking away. Jesus looked at me, a kind smile on his face.
“He really doesn’t like me,” I said.
“Well, he thinks you put me up to having him betray me to the priests.” said Jesus.
“Why does he think that?” I said, wondering why I did not have this part of Judas’ knowledge.
“Well, he thinks you’re God.”
“What? Why?”
“Ask yourself that question, Kev. Anyway, what’s going on?”
“I need your help.”
“I can see that. Tell you what; Let’s go to the bar on Uthio Minor. Nobody will bother us there.”
Jesus and I teleported to the bar.
Brok approached us and said, “Green tea?”
“Yes, Brok,” said Jesus. “Make mine a double.”
I nodded a Brok and turned to my friend. “If I ask you to tell me what is going on are you going to cite the rules and refuse to answer me?”
“No.”
“Okay then. What the hell is going on? What is this game I’m playing? Did I create it?” I said.
“What makes you think this is a game?” said Jesus, a kind smile on his face, one of sympathy and understanding.
“Wait a second. This isn’t a game?”
“You feel set upon, my friend. You believe the entire universe is somehow against you. Ask yourself, why is that so?”
“Well, I’m asking you that. What is going on?”
“You are being deceived, led into a trap. I have told you this before, but you always forget. It is a wonder that everything has not been lost.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“All creation is at stake, Kev. Everything is in jeopardy, and you must keep evil at bay. You must save us all.”
“What evil? What are you talking about?”
“A great, ancient evil is at work, Kev, a destructive force that wants to end absolutely everything. It is manipulating you, driving you toward a horrible end, and you must stop it.”
“What evil?”
“Search your mind, Kev. You have the answer.”
I searched through my memories, all of my knowledge, looking for some great evil, and found something I had missed before, something that made me reel back in horror. “Satan!” I cried.
“Yes, Satan. Only you can stop him. You must stop him, or all will be lost. You have to remember this.”
“Well, how am I supposed to stop Satan when I have Clive and the others toying with me all the time? Why are they doing that? Do they know about Satan? They think they are playing a game.”
“This is no game, Kev. You have to remember.”
“Remember what?”
“Everything you have forgotten.”
“How do I do that?”
“I do not know, but I know it is what you must do,” said Jesus.
“I have to warn the others. I don’t think I can do this alone,” I said.
Jesus took a sip of his green tea and drifted off into space. I looked at mine and thought maybe I should pass on yet another green tea experience. I had to keep a watchful eye for Clive. There was no telling what he would do if he found me. This was no time for whatever game we were playing.
A strange thought struck me. Clive couldn’t go to heaven. I remembered him telling me that once. I gasped. Clive was Satan. That had to be true. I turned to Brok and said, “Brok, have you seen Clive?”
“Rules are rules, Kev,” said Brok, his eyes shifting, focusing on a point behind me.
I looked out at the beach, seeing Clive a few hundred yards away, coming this way, the sphere floating a few feet behind him. It didn’t look like Clive had seen me. If he had he definitely would have teleported over.
I knew I was in terrible danger, and knew that I might have to leave before Jesus finished his green tea experience. However, there were many questions I needed answered.
In that moment, I recalled one of Aputi’s dreams, or nightmares, take your pick. This nightmare, a convoluted and vile thing, was of the end of all creation, a nightmare now mine that, if it came true, would end all creation, absolutely everything, including God. God. Did I believe in God? Aputi believed in God, as did all of the beings that had ever existed in all of the infinite universes.
In all my years, or at least the years I could remember, I never gave God much more than a passing thought, and usually only a doubt filled thought, but now I wondered if God did exist. I now believed that Satan existed, so did that mean I believed in God? I felt something pulsing in my pocket. I pulled out the three cubes. It was the clear cube pulsing, but why?
I focused on the cube, wondering what had activated it. I had been thinking about God and Satan. I had been wondering about the existence of God. Who was God? The cube’s pulse intensified. Who was God? What was God?
I don’t see any point in holding this back from you any longer, because I think you might have already figured it out, because I think it will help make things make a little more sense if you haven’t figured it out. I am God, although at this point in the tale I did not know that, and I would not discover that for some time. However, at this point, I developed a very profound belief in God, a god I desperately wanted to save from the madness of Satan.
If Clive managed to connect me to the Proth Sphere and that nightmare came true there would be nothing left, including God. Was that possible? That had been Clive’s goal all along. He had been waiting for me to press the button on the black cube five times all this time so I would have the one nightmare that would wipe out everything. How did he know about this nightmare? Did he know it was Aputi’s nightmare? If he did, could he use the Sphere on Aputi to end all creation?
I paused for a moment. If Clive knew that Aputi had this nightmare it would be easy for him to find Aputi and connect the little bastard to the sphere. Clive would have already ended all creation if he knew Aputi had that nightmare tucked away in his twisted mind. So, clearly, he did not know it was Aputi’s nightmare. Could he find out? How could he find out? I couldn’t chance it. I had to get the sphere.
Clive and the sphere had stopped on the beach, Clive facing me. He waved before he and the sphere disappeared. Was he taunting me?
Satan
I knew Clive would be easy enough to find, given that he probably wanted me to come after him. I did not know, however, what I could possibly do to overcome Clive and wrest the sphere from him. He was much larger and stronger and had always been more cunning than me. If I were going to get the sphere from him, I would have to trick him somehow.
I needed to set a trap.
It hit me. Heaven existed. If there was a heaven then there must be a hell. What if I could trap Clive in hell and then gain control of the sphere? How could I send him to hell? What was hell? Did anyone know? I searched my memories, surprised to find the memories of all of the beings that had ever been in hell, trapped for all eternity with no hope of release.
While the memories of these beings told me quite a bit about this terrible place, they did not give me enough information to determine whether or not I could trap Clive there. I needed more information, and I thought I knew someone who could help, Bri.
Bri had no physical form that I knew of, no presence in the material world. I remembered that when I negated the infinity of universes, I ended up in some other dimension, in Bri’s presence, but unable to see him. I also remembered trying to bring Bri and the sphere together after Aputi changed the entire universe into a giant cesspool, and knew that I could communicate with Bri from the material world.
I looked at Jesus, whose green tea experience was taking an unusually long time. I couldn’t wait for him to come back to reality. I had to go somewhere safe, somewhere where I could talk to Bri, so I teleported to the workshop in Earithon, now empty, the girl who looked remarkably like my girl on a three month holiday on Pooter Gorth.
“Bri,” I said.
“Hey, Kev. What’s going on?” said Bri.
“Bri, we have a serious problem. Clive is Satan and he is trying to destroy all creation and even God, forever. We’re not playing a game. This is serious.”
“Really? Satan? Well, that explains a lot.”
“What does it explain?”
“Rules are rules, Kev.”
“Dammit, this isn’t a game. There are no rules. I need your help. I want to trap Clive in hell. Hell exists, right?”
“Last time the sphere and I created the universes we created it, so, yes. So, how are you going to trap Clive in hell?”
“That’s why I need you. I don’t know if I can do it. Do you know?”
“Well, I don’t think I would be breaking any important rules if I told you that there is a way. Really all you have to do is get him to go there. That will trap him, although there is a way out.”
“How do you get out?”
“Rules, Kev. I can’t tell you.”
“Dammit, we’re not playing a game. Tell me.”
“No can do, buddy.”
“Well, can you tell me how I can get him to go to hell?” I said.
“Maybe if you went there, he would follow you.”
I didn’t like that idea one bit, but I accepted that it might be the only way. “So, how do I go to hell? Can I just teleport there?”
“No. You have to tap your heels three times and say, ‘There’s no place like hell.’”
“You’re joking.”
“I never joke. Anyway, you should know that.”
“Why would I know that?”
“Do I need to invoke the rules yet again?” said Bri, laughing.
“You’re a real bastard, you know that?” I said, deeply annoyed.
“So, are you going to hell?”
“Yes, but I have to tell Clive first. Does he know how to get there?”
“I’m sure he does. He is Satan, after all.”
“Does he know how to get out?”
“Well, if he is out now, I would assume he knew at one point, but that doesn’t mean he knows now,” said Bri.