Exercise #6
12/05/13
“Do you know what your son did?”
“What, my dearest.”
“He destroyed the solar system.”
“Oh, boys will be boys.”
“Excuse me?”
“Come on, Venus. Let him be. He was just playing.”
“Do you know how many specimens lived within that system?”
“How many.”
“83.5 Trillion. 83.5 Trillion. All sentient. 15 thousand had high cognition. 3 were evolving societies.”
“They were primitive. Reckless.”
“We had a lot of hope in their development.”
“If they were so evolved, they would have survived his play time.”
“You gave him too much power. He is only twelve.”
“He only has three months till he is thirteen. He is a growing boy growing strong. He is peaking into the prime of his adolescence. He needs to prepare for his manhood.”
“Manhood? What are you saying, Mars?”
“If he doesn’t learn how to deal with power now, when will he? This is the time.”
“There is no training in this. He is a child. And you gave him a colossal weapon as a toy.”
“The universe is his play ground.”
“He must understand there are limits to our power.”
“I would not lie to my son. There is nothing beyond our reach.”
“Our reach is farther than our grasp.”
“I don’t follow.”
“This is proof. Just because our technology is vastly superior to any specimen within the virgin super cluster, this does not mean that we are not reckless with our power.”
“We are not primitive.”
“Our advance does not portray our wisdom.”
“From time to time, he must get his hands dirty. Better for him to learn that now with limited power. He will have to make mistakes. It will be the only way he learns.”
“Yes, I agree. But at what costs?”
“What is a mere solar system in the grand scheme of things?”
“It is everything. What we do too the least of them defines us.”
“Venus. He was just playing.”
“You don’t get it, do you? This is no way to raise our son. If you’re going to give him such a powerful tool as a matter manipulator, you need to be more hands on.”
“I have a super cluster to oversee."
“You have mastery over space and time at your disposal. Make it work.”
“And if I don’t.”
“Hell hath no fury…”
“You wouldn't hurt a fly. Come on, dear. Don’t you think you’re taking this a bit extreme.”
“Don’t you dare call me dear. And no, I don’t think I’m being a bit extreme. If I were you, I’d bite my tongue.”
“Or what? You’ll smite me with your peace?”
“You really want to go there?”
“If all the cards shall be on the table, then yes. Your peachy clouds of peace-making are not what ended the galactic wars.”
“It was your superb commanding skills and diabolical super weapons that did the trick.”
“You put all the weight on me.”
“You have all the power.”
“Are you jealous? Would you like me to share?”
“No. I am far too wise for that. I know better. I would be overcome. As clearly you have.”
“Overcome by what, my dearest radiance?”
“Hubris. You think that you are god.”
“We are all gods. Without us, the universe would be in disarray.”
“Or maybe things would work out just fine without us.”
“Why would you say that? You know they need us.”
“There is no hope in our reign. Only terror.”
“We have brought prosperity. I do not think ill of your peace. I know its limits though.”
“And your power has no limits. And that is the problem. You dish out wrath and destruction without the slightest hesitation or considerations. Quintillions die every day at the flick of your wrist, and you pay no heed or notice. And by the beauty of the stars and atoms I swear I will not let such a fate become of our son.”
“He will be commander of the Virgo. There is no changing that.”
“He will take your throne, but I pray his generation would not be as ours has been. Let the sins of his forefathers not stain the sands.”
“You would have him take after you then.”
“I would have him not bathe in the pleasures of war.”
“You disapprove of my methods.”
“I loathe them. I adored you once.”
“When I considered your ramblings.”
“I warn you to tread lightly.”
“I will not tip toe around your eggs shells.”
“You’ll step on them.”
“Crush them. None shall defy me.”
“I will not let our son be raised under this behavior.”
“He shall become a man.”
“Your definition of manhood is twisted.”
“You would neuter the boy.”
“I would give him a heart.”
“I would have him mind his stomach.”
“While the Universe starves.”
“I have earned my reign.”
“You have lost all regard for life.”
“Life is what we make it.”
“Your creations are only used for destruction. You would destroy all the super clusters if it would satisfy your stomach.”
“I destroy only when my gut tells me.”
“Then teach our son such control. Patience. Care.”
“We did not have a daughter. I know this displeased you.”
“How dare you. The nerve.”
“It is time for our son to play with the universe. He needs to see all he can see. He needs to learn what skills and technology he has at his disposal. By the time he is of age, the tri-cluster alliance will have amassed their forces.”
“Diplomacy! You piss your pants at the sign of competition. You would pee on a millions worlds to stake your claim.”
“The Universe is ours.”
“We have not earned the right. If we can learn to use our technology to care for the stars and planets and species instead of tearing them apart, then we may.”
“You are not to judge.”
“I have made mistakes in the past. I can say I have learned. Have you?”
“This conversation is done.”
“No, it isn’t. It has just begun.”
A ring flickered on her right hand. Stars and asteroids shimmered across its gold surface.
Mars’ eyebrow raised.
“Your son is not the only one that knows how to steal.”
Mars reached for his sword, the Cleaver of Suns, the instrument of his might and powers, but Venus raised her hand out first.
Mars’ armor and skin ripped from his chest, erupting in sparks and debris. A billion stars, asteroids, and shattered planetoids flew through the vacuum.
Her white dress wavered in the wind of the blast, ripped and splattered with blood.
Mars plopped to his knees. The floor was obsidian, the circular court floor nearly reflecting the stars and outer space just beyond the mosaic, semi-circular glass-viewport. The entry door whooshed open, and a boy with sandy hair jogged into the room.
“Mom, what happened?!”
“Go back to your room.”
“But Father’s hurt!”
“Obey me. Your Father’s disregard has ended.”
He did not move, but he stood several yards between his parents. He reached out his ringless fingers toward his dying Father. Mars stared at his son, tears in his eyes. He took a nose dive against the floor.
“Do as I say.”
Little Yahweh walked back to his room.
Venus waited for the door to shut. Then she stepped over Mars’ head, her bare feet in his blood.
She knelt down. Mars barely was able to look up. He tried to speak, but coughed up blood.
“W—wh---why?”
“You stopped listening to me.”
He closed his eyes, but she could still see his chest rising and falling. His heart was filled with pain, she sensed.
“Our marriage was once of compromise. You listened to my loving pleas for peace. I listened of your demands for security. But then you became reckless and inconsiderate. Your morals were lacking. So, I compromised mine.”
She whipped her hand up in the air, the gold Prometheus ring flickered. Mars‘ body flew up in the air, his skull colliding with the ceiling. He fell back down, limp.
“You are only sad that your son won’t be raised in your footsteps. The irony is you never gave him the time of day to know you.”
She walked across the court, staring out the viewport of Olympus, the solar-system-sized military base. She bent over, and picked up the Cleaver, its many buttons and scrolling holographic mathematics glistening.
“Yahweh shall now learn to reign in My footsteps. I will teach him and mankind a different way. And now, for our crimes, we shall end the tyranny of man. I will cleanse this Universe of our filth, leaving only enough of our kind to start over on a new world.”
She walked away.
“No more war. No more peace. Only tough love.”
12/05/13
“Do you know what your son did?”
“What, my dearest.”
“He destroyed the solar system.”
“Oh, boys will be boys.”
“Excuse me?”
“Come on, Venus. Let him be. He was just playing.”
“Do you know how many specimens lived within that system?”
“How many.”
“83.5 Trillion. 83.5 Trillion. All sentient. 15 thousand had high cognition. 3 were evolving societies.”
“They were primitive. Reckless.”
“We had a lot of hope in their development.”
“If they were so evolved, they would have survived his play time.”
“You gave him too much power. He is only twelve.”
“He only has three months till he is thirteen. He is a growing boy growing strong. He is peaking into the prime of his adolescence. He needs to prepare for his manhood.”
“Manhood? What are you saying, Mars?”
“If he doesn’t learn how to deal with power now, when will he? This is the time.”
“There is no training in this. He is a child. And you gave him a colossal weapon as a toy.”
“The universe is his play ground.”
“He must understand there are limits to our power.”
“I would not lie to my son. There is nothing beyond our reach.”
“Our reach is farther than our grasp.”
“I don’t follow.”
“This is proof. Just because our technology is vastly superior to any specimen within the virgin super cluster, this does not mean that we are not reckless with our power.”
“We are not primitive.”
“Our advance does not portray our wisdom.”
“From time to time, he must get his hands dirty. Better for him to learn that now with limited power. He will have to make mistakes. It will be the only way he learns.”
“Yes, I agree. But at what costs?”
“What is a mere solar system in the grand scheme of things?”
“It is everything. What we do too the least of them defines us.”
“Venus. He was just playing.”
“You don’t get it, do you? This is no way to raise our son. If you’re going to give him such a powerful tool as a matter manipulator, you need to be more hands on.”
“I have a super cluster to oversee."
“You have mastery over space and time at your disposal. Make it work.”
“And if I don’t.”
“Hell hath no fury…”
“You wouldn't hurt a fly. Come on, dear. Don’t you think you’re taking this a bit extreme.”
“Don’t you dare call me dear. And no, I don’t think I’m being a bit extreme. If I were you, I’d bite my tongue.”
“Or what? You’ll smite me with your peace?”
“You really want to go there?”
“If all the cards shall be on the table, then yes. Your peachy clouds of peace-making are not what ended the galactic wars.”
“It was your superb commanding skills and diabolical super weapons that did the trick.”
“You put all the weight on me.”
“You have all the power.”
“Are you jealous? Would you like me to share?”
“No. I am far too wise for that. I know better. I would be overcome. As clearly you have.”
“Overcome by what, my dearest radiance?”
“Hubris. You think that you are god.”
“We are all gods. Without us, the universe would be in disarray.”
“Or maybe things would work out just fine without us.”
“Why would you say that? You know they need us.”
“There is no hope in our reign. Only terror.”
“We have brought prosperity. I do not think ill of your peace. I know its limits though.”
“And your power has no limits. And that is the problem. You dish out wrath and destruction without the slightest hesitation or considerations. Quintillions die every day at the flick of your wrist, and you pay no heed or notice. And by the beauty of the stars and atoms I swear I will not let such a fate become of our son.”
“He will be commander of the Virgo. There is no changing that.”
“He will take your throne, but I pray his generation would not be as ours has been. Let the sins of his forefathers not stain the sands.”
“You would have him take after you then.”
“I would have him not bathe in the pleasures of war.”
“You disapprove of my methods.”
“I loathe them. I adored you once.”
“When I considered your ramblings.”
“I warn you to tread lightly.”
“I will not tip toe around your eggs shells.”
“You’ll step on them.”
“Crush them. None shall defy me.”
“I will not let our son be raised under this behavior.”
“He shall become a man.”
“Your definition of manhood is twisted.”
“You would neuter the boy.”
“I would give him a heart.”
“I would have him mind his stomach.”
“While the Universe starves.”
“I have earned my reign.”
“You have lost all regard for life.”
“Life is what we make it.”
“Your creations are only used for destruction. You would destroy all the super clusters if it would satisfy your stomach.”
“I destroy only when my gut tells me.”
“Then teach our son such control. Patience. Care.”
“We did not have a daughter. I know this displeased you.”
“How dare you. The nerve.”
“It is time for our son to play with the universe. He needs to see all he can see. He needs to learn what skills and technology he has at his disposal. By the time he is of age, the tri-cluster alliance will have amassed their forces.”
“Diplomacy! You piss your pants at the sign of competition. You would pee on a millions worlds to stake your claim.”
“The Universe is ours.”
“We have not earned the right. If we can learn to use our technology to care for the stars and planets and species instead of tearing them apart, then we may.”
“You are not to judge.”
“I have made mistakes in the past. I can say I have learned. Have you?”
“This conversation is done.”
“No, it isn’t. It has just begun.”
A ring flickered on her right hand. Stars and asteroids shimmered across its gold surface.
Mars’ eyebrow raised.
“Your son is not the only one that knows how to steal.”
Mars reached for his sword, the Cleaver of Suns, the instrument of his might and powers, but Venus raised her hand out first.
Mars’ armor and skin ripped from his chest, erupting in sparks and debris. A billion stars, asteroids, and shattered planetoids flew through the vacuum.
Her white dress wavered in the wind of the blast, ripped and splattered with blood.
Mars plopped to his knees. The floor was obsidian, the circular court floor nearly reflecting the stars and outer space just beyond the mosaic, semi-circular glass-viewport. The entry door whooshed open, and a boy with sandy hair jogged into the room.
“Mom, what happened?!”
“Go back to your room.”
“But Father’s hurt!”
“Obey me. Your Father’s disregard has ended.”
He did not move, but he stood several yards between his parents. He reached out his ringless fingers toward his dying Father. Mars stared at his son, tears in his eyes. He took a nose dive against the floor.
“Do as I say.”
Little Yahweh walked back to his room.
Venus waited for the door to shut. Then she stepped over Mars’ head, her bare feet in his blood.
She knelt down. Mars barely was able to look up. He tried to speak, but coughed up blood.
“W—wh---why?”
“You stopped listening to me.”
He closed his eyes, but she could still see his chest rising and falling. His heart was filled with pain, she sensed.
“Our marriage was once of compromise. You listened to my loving pleas for peace. I listened of your demands for security. But then you became reckless and inconsiderate. Your morals were lacking. So, I compromised mine.”
She whipped her hand up in the air, the gold Prometheus ring flickered. Mars‘ body flew up in the air, his skull colliding with the ceiling. He fell back down, limp.
“You are only sad that your son won’t be raised in your footsteps. The irony is you never gave him the time of day to know you.”
She walked across the court, staring out the viewport of Olympus, the solar-system-sized military base. She bent over, and picked up the Cleaver, its many buttons and scrolling holographic mathematics glistening.
“Yahweh shall now learn to reign in My footsteps. I will teach him and mankind a different way. And now, for our crimes, we shall end the tyranny of man. I will cleanse this Universe of our filth, leaving only enough of our kind to start over on a new world.”
She walked away.
“No more war. No more peace. Only tough love.”
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