by Mark A Labbe
“Clive, just help me remember. If I remember, I can end this and I swear I will never do it again. Ending all creation, you, the others, everyone in the infinite universes, and me is not the answer.”
I now understood who I was, what I was, and I now believed that I had neglected my creations, that I had forced something terrible upon them, perhaps to entertain myself, the most selfish of reasons. I felt horrible and prayed that if I did remember everything I would be able to do the right thing.
“Too late, Kev, or should I say, God. It is too late. You are. You are the one. You are the everything. You won’t change. It is hopeless.”
“The girl doesn’t want you to do this, Clive. The sphere doesn’t want you to do it. I am willing to bet anything that Bri and Jesus feel the same way.”
“Because they love you, despite the torture and disappointment. They love you, and I love you too, but I can take no more. How many times have you trapped me in hell? Do you have any idea? Do you remember some of those times, times when I spent billions of years in hell, tormented by demons and other horrors? Do you have any idea how many times I have ended up on The Show because of you? Do you think I enjoyed that? I most definitely did not.”
I vaguely remembered tricking Clive into going to hell, and remembered giving him the blue cube when he was not aware of its purpose, and felt tremendous guilt for doing that. How many times had I done that? I did not know. All I knew what that I had subjected him to many horrors. For what? For entertainment? Did I truly believe that I was doing something good? What kind of a god was I? “I’m sorry, Clive.”
While I agreed that my behavior had been abominable, I did not believe ending all creation was the answer. However, I did not have the memories I needed to stop Clive, or at least buy some time so I could try to set things right. I did not believe he would allow me enough time to figure things out, now fully convinced he would soon end everything.
“Sorry? You’re evil is what you are. Pure evil. I know the others don’t see it. They are fools.”
A thought struck me. “Clive, why did you write that note in my journal? Why do you want me to go to Galthinon? Do you think that might change me somehow?”
Clive looked at me, a glint in his eyes. “Do you know what Galthinon is, Kev?”
“No, but I know I have been there.”
“You have been there an infinite number of times, Kev. You created it. You created everything. I have tried to get you to go there an infinite number of times so you will figure things out, and it has never worked. You go there and then nothing happens. You never see the light.”
“Maybe if you let me go there now, I will understand. Maybe I will remember enough for whatever it is that I will learn there to sink in. Why not give it a chance?”
“Too late. Anyway, I’m sure you don’t know how to get there.”
“If you disable the containment field, I will go there,” I said.
“Won’t work, and I don’t know how you can get there.”
I remembered something, and felt like a terrible fool. I remembered an entry in my journal, something along the lines of “Make a wish to go to Galthinon.” That was the wish that would recharge the red cube. That was the way to get to Galthinon.
“Clive, I promise you I am going to figure this out. I will be back.” Before I made my wish, I saw Clive’s face change, his expression now one of surprise. I made my wish and appeared on a world that no words can fully describe.
Galthinon
I appeared in the middle of a forest of statues on a world of immeasurable size, something I knew because I remembered that it was, in fact, infinitely large, a world that, in itself, encompassed and represented all creation, my creation. I looked at the statues, representations of all of the beings that had ever existed in all of the infinite universes, my creations, although how I created them, I did not know.
I knew I was God, of that I had no doubt, and realized that I had wiped out my own memories to play this game that had caused Clive and the others, possibly the whole universe, pain and sorrow. What would happen if I remembered? Would I reset the pieces and start again? Clive indicated I had done that many times, and implied that this time we had been in this game for an eternity. I realized that Clive and the others, again, perhaps every being in the infinite universes, must all have retained their memories through the entirety of the game, and that the infinite universes were, in fact, instances of one universe, a universe created and destroyed over and over, part of the game. What kind of game was this? What were the rules? What had I done?
I realized I had recharged the wishing cube by wishing to be in this place, and knew what I had to do. “I wish I will never again force everyone to play this stupid game and that the game is over and that I will allow my creations to find their own destinies, to have free will and be happy for all eternity.”
Nothing happened.
“I wish I could remember everything,” I said.
Nothing happened.
“I wish I knew why Clive wanted me to come here.”
Again, nothing happened.
“I wish I understood what is going on.”
Nothing happened. I felt no different, completely unenlightened.
Had I wasted four charges of the red cube? If I had, I had only one wish left and then I would have to wish to be on Galthinon again to recharge it. Would that work if I were already on Galthinon? Why hadn’t my four wishes worked? Did the red cube work here?
Maybe I could wish that I was on Uthio Minor and then wish I was back on Galthinon, thus, recharging the cube. Maybe then, I could try different wishes, and repeat the process until I got it right.
“I wish I was on Uthio Minor.”
Nothing happened.
I tried to teleport to Uthio Minor and nothing happened. I screamed at the sky, cursing myself for creating this insanity.
What was I missing?
I remembered an entry in my journal, the entry about Galthinon, something I wrote about flying. I willed myself to fly, floating up into the sky, looking down on an infinite plain, seeing that I was on the edge of this immense sculpture garden. Off to my left I saw what appeared to be a giant theme park and beyond that I saw something that looked like a temple. I had written about a temple in my journal.
I flew to the temple and landed. The structure, made entirely of marble, with thirty-seven spires stretching to impossible heights, had a single entrance.
I entered into a chamber the size of a football stadium with a high roof covered with paintings, paintings of moments from my infinite lives. In the center of the chamber I saw a pedestal. I walked over to the pedestal, finding a piece of paper resting upon it. I picked it up and read.
Kev,
I know you know this already, and I know nothing I can say will ever make you know it any more than you already know it, but I have to tell you I love you and that I can never repay you for giving me everything you have given me. I have a life that is beautiful beyond compare, a blessed life full of joy. I have friends that are better than anyone could possibly imagine, including you, my creator.
You have allowed me to choose my own destiny, to break the rules at will, to find pleasures that can’t be described by words. You have given me everything and I wish that I could give you the same. You are. You are the one. You are the everything. I love you with everything I have and give everything I have to you. Now, come finish the game, you dummy.
Love, Clive
“I am,” I said, feeling different, but unsure of what I felt, also feeling the clear cube vibrating in my pocket.
“I am the one,” I added, now filled with hope and love, the clear cube now going absolutely mad.
“I am the everything,” I finished, and the world around me transformed.
Surrender
I found myself surrounded by every being that had ever existed in all of the infinite universes, beings I had created in this simulation, some free actors in the game, some not, all now looking at me, s
pace warped in such a way that I could see every last one of them.
Closest to me, I could see Clive, the girl, Jesus, the Proth Sphere, Aputi, Ruby, B24ME, and a young, towheaded boy I knew was Bri.
Clive wore a goofy grin, as did the others.
I had won the game. I had won for the first time, and though I knew this was, to some extent, by design, I realized that these silly beings had allowed me to win, and for the briefest of moments, I felt something I had not ever felt before in quite this way. I felt surprise.
I had received a gift, a gift beyond measure, and the love I felt for these souls swelled, my body threatening to explode.
“Took you long enough,” laughed Clive.
“Yeah,” said the girl. “I thought we were going to be playing forever.”
I laughed harder than I had ever laughed before and said, “So, who wants to play again?”
Everyone present, everyone that ever was, groaned at the same time, a deafening roar that reverberated through all existence.
Clive came over, hugged me and said, “I’ll play if I can make the rules this time.”
“Hey, I want to make the rules,” cried the girl.
“What about us?” said Ruby, Jesus, Bri and the sphere.
“You know,” said Aputi, averting his eyes, as he usually did, “I bet I can make the next game even more interesting than this one was.”
“I bet I can make the game more interesting than any of you,” shouted B24ME.
“No way,” shouted every single being present.
“You can all make the rules,” I said. “This will be your game, one of an infinite number of games.”
The Rules
1. Thou shalt not tell me the rules, but thou may reference the rules in such a way as to make it known that there are, in fact, rules. That should tie me up into knots, right? Also, thou may at any time cite the rules even when the rules are not relevant to a given situation. That will be quite fun, don’t you think? I know you all agree.
2. Thou shalt not ever tell me what the red cube does under any circumstances. Of course, I say this knowing full well that at least one of you will break this rule, and I have to say, you are lucky I will immediately lose the memory of you saying that.
3. Thou shalt not take the red cube from me unless I give it to you willingly. B24ME, are you paying attention? Clive? Aputi? Yes, I’m looking at you, Aputi. Stop averting your eyes. I hate that.
4. Thou, and now I am speaking only to you, Jesus, shalt not have any conversation with me in which you do not somehow let on to the fact that Clive is Satan and that he wants to end all creation. I know you don’t like lying, but thou shalt not disobey me. Understood?
5. Thou shalt not explain how the black cube works or even hint that I should use it in any particular way. Clive, girl, pay attention. Further, thou shalt not ever tell me that pressing the button five times on the black cube does not truly give me all of the memories of all of the beings that ever existed in all of the infinite universes, with the exception of Clive, the girl, Bri, the Proth Sphere and Jesus. I know you’re not going to do this in this game, but I know you will do it in the next one. What do you think will happen if you tell me that everyone in the universe knows everything about the game and that those memories are all hidden from me? Don’t you think letting me know that everyone is in on this is a huge clue? Just let me believe that everyone in the universe is aware of the game but not fully aware of all of the rules. Rule one allows for this, and I have to say, that rule is far too lenient. Of course, I’m sure none of you will remember this.
6. Thou shalt not offer any material assistance to me of any sort that will allow me to escape harm or confusion. I don’t care how badly you feel for me or how frustrated you are. Don’t do it. I’m looking at you, girl. Of course, this is an all encompassing rule, and perhaps the only rule I need make, but I know if I don’t spell things out you will all claim you didn’t fully understand this rule.
7. Thou, and this is for you, Clive, shalt not ever go to heaven. It is strictly off limits. Further, thou shalt not ever tell me that you are prohibited from going to heaven. Of course, I know full well that you will tell me just that and will later claim it was absolutely necessary to move things along. You are wrong about that. I should know.
8. Thou, you sphere, shall not allow me to use you in such a way that I will be given the advantage. I know I can depend on you, you wonderful thing.
9. Thou shalt not ever hint that the clear cube might be something of great importance to me. It is my responsibility to discover this. Clive, stop pinching Jesus and pay attention.
10. Thou shalt not ever mention the simulation or ever mention anything about free will to me for any reason whatsoever. If you feel the urge to do this, please remove yourself from my presence immediately and go dunk your head in a lake or something. I don’t care what you do; just don’t say a word about it.
11. Thou shalt not write in my journal. I have said this far too many times, and each time, one of you misfits writes a note in my journal that pretty much gives everything away. Clive? Clive? Yes, I happen to be talking, Clive. Do you want me to repeat myself or would you prefer to not know this rule?
12. Thou shalt not ever let on to the fact that my ability to heal rapidly is anything but normal. Clive? Are you paying attention? I don’t think you are.
13. Thou shalt not ever tell me how to get off The Show. B24ME, I know you have absolutely no intention of letting me off the show and I greatly appreciate that. Girl, watch yourself. You have been guilty of this countless times, and I have to say, while I love it that you can’t stand seeing me suffer, you have to accept that this is just part of the game and that it is good for me. To be quite frank, I enjoy being tormented on The Show. Call me a masochist if you like, but it is really invigorating.
14. Thou shalt not ever warn me about Ruby. I love her dearly and would hate for her to be disappointed by any rejection from me. I know you love me too, Ruby. Such a sweet thing. Anyway, there is no greater act than creation, procreation being a type of creation, of course.
15. Thou shalt not allow me to understand the nature of time travel in the simulation. I know some of you think it is a silly way for things to work and think it makes things confusing, but I’m happy with it, so just don’t mention it, please. While I’m at it, please stop telling me I have time lag all the time. We all know there is no such thing as time lag. Also, quit telling me I’ve been time traveling all the time. I will figure it out on my own. Got that, girl? Clearly, you aren’t listening. I guess telling Clive I am a poopy head is far more important than hearing the rules.
16. Thou shalt not tell me I am God, even if I say I am God. Clive, you look like you have some doubts about that one. Do I need to explain it in another way for you? No? Good. Give not into temptation, Clive. Remember that.
17. Thou—Bri this is for you, although I already know you are going to break this rule, but I want you to feel bad about it when you do, so don’t forget—shalt not tell me the only thing I can do to bring back the universe after I have wished the Proth Sphere never existed is to wish that the sphere exists again. Thou shalt not say that or confirm it even if I say anything about it, which I’m not saying I will, but you never know. Do you know? Do you truly know my mind? Of course you don’t, so don’t do it Bri. Well, at least feel bad about it when you do it. Understood?
18. Thou shalt not—Aputi, are you paying attention? Stop averting your eyes. I hate that. There is no good reason you should avoid looking at me, you silly thing—thou shalt not ever try to get the yellow cube from me under any circumstances. I know you think turning the universe into a giant cesspool is a barrel of laughs, but I have to say, everyone is quite sick of it.
19. Thou shalt not, under any circumstances say “thirty-seven” to me. Sphere, I know you didn’t hear a word I said, and I know that even if I repeat myself you will say it anyway. Shame on you. Girl, Clive, you might think you are pretty clever by asking me what m
y favorite number is, but please try to understand that these types of clues will just give me an advantage. Further, when I say “thirty-seven” in response to your query about my favorite number, Clive, you will be directly violating this rule by asking me what thirty-seven means to me. Further, the whole follow on about jelly donuts is completely unnecessary. I know for a fact I would be able to convince Bri and the sphere to connect even when they are having a terrible row without this sort of help. Something to keep in mind.
20. Thou shalt not, as a corollary to rule nineteen, ever tell me how many rules there are, dear sphere. If you have to ask why, you will never know. Anyway, you should never question the rules as stated by me. Period. Sphere, quit pestering Bri and pay attention. I swear you act like a child sometimes.
21. Thou shalt not, and I mean thou absolutely shalt not ever, under any circumstances, even if I have your feet to the fire and you are suffering unimaginable pain, say naughty words, and I am looking at you right now, girl, you potty mouth. I know most of you think this is a ridiculous rule and that it truly has no bearing on the game, but you should know that at some point in the future, there will be others, beings with free will, real beings, who will read this story. If you use a lot of bad words, people are going to think you are uncreative and crass, so do try to express yourselves in the most intelligent way possible. Are you listening, girl? This applies to you most of all. Of course, I am exempt from this rule because I will not know the rules, so don’t think for one second if I utter a profanity that you are somehow allowed to do the same. Clive, dear boy, you haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you?