The Prince and the Singularity - A Circular Tale by Pedro Barrento

Author:Pedro Barrento [Barrento, Pedro]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pedro Barrento
Published: 2013-01-19T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13: The Universe Factory

New Universe! Positions, everyone! New Universe!

The thundering voice resounds through the dormitory where thousands of lesser Gods are lying in their beds.

New Universe! Positions, everyone! New Universe!

Unending lines of bunks start to rattle. At first, the only movement comes from bodies shifting position under the sheets. The annoying voice does not let up.

New Universe! Positions, everyone! New Universe!

Bodies start sitting up in the beds, yawning, stretching arms and legs. They wake up, laboriously, from a lethargy that may have lasted a fraction of a second or a billion years. Where they stand, there’s no space or time, at least not in a sense that humans can understand.

Events do occur. They must unfold somewhere and in a sequence, and in that sense there has to be time and space. Beware the analogy, though; it is a false one. Time and space may exist for them, but they are not ours. Everything happens between the singularity of an end and the beginning of another singularity, in a dimension that makes itself accessible to the Gods alone.

New Universe! Positions, everyone! New Universe!

With each new announcement the voice becomes ever more irritating. In the dormitory the commotion caused by the lesser Gods is deafening. They get up, some talk to others, all make their beds and plump the pillows. A chaotic frenzy of activity rules where moments earlier only silence could be heard.

When every last one is up, the announcements suddenly stop.

Thousands of simultaneous conversations cross the air: greetings, comments, interjections. They are Gods to be sure, but so mundane are their endeavours that it could easily be happening in the world of men.

‘A new Universe? Again? Will this never end?’

‘What a silly question. Of course it never will.’

Conversational fragments, here and there.

‘What did you create in the last game? I made several forests, a species of gorgeous little birds. . . so colourful, and a civilisation with lovely pyramids. What about you?’

More fragments.

‘This time, I’m going to bet everything right at the very beginning, so I can go back to bed. I’m sick of spending millions of years in that stupid card game with ever so cautious tiny little wagers.’

‘Don’t be absurd! It’s such good fun. You’re just a hopeless kill-joy.’

A group of five characters moves intently through the noisy confusion, looking around, as if searching for someone. Suddenly, they stop.

‘You there. Yeah, you, beanpole! Come here.’

‘Beanpole’ looks around, not quite convinced they are talking to him. Nobody else seems to be paying attention. Finally, he points to himself hesitantly, looks at the group and asks:

‘Me?’

‘No, the bunk. What do you think? Do you see any other beanpoles around here?’

The group draws closer. They stand in a circle around him. They don’t look very friendly, but not exactly threatening either.

‘We’ve been watching you.’

‘Who, me?’

‘No, the bunk!’

‘Watching me? When? I was asleep. You were too, weren’t you?’

‘We didn’t mean now, dimwit. We’ve been watching you making creations in the last few Universes. During the card games.’

‘Ah!’

‘To be perfectly honest. . .

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.