Gods Among Us

Mikey studied the creature glaring back at him. His first thought was fear, but his second thought, the one that won out, was curiosity. Was the creature dangerous? What intentions did it have for him? He climbed to his feet, fumbling for, and initially failing to secure, his laser pistol. When he looked back at the creature, he realized the creatures’ big, yellow eyes were locked on the laser pistol as well.

The smallest of the rabbit brothers made slow movements, careful not to portray any actions that may spook the creature. He reached in his holster again, slower this time, more deliberate and placed his thumb and index finger around the gun’s handle, carefully retrieving it from its holster, but not forming a grip around it.

“See?” Mikey said, crouching down and dropping the pistol. “I won’t hurt you. I am stuck here is all.” Mikey tried his best to form a smile, in spite of his fear. He thought of the science-fiction books he always saw his brother reading – drivel, really – then, added: “I come in peace.”a

By his feet, Mikey watched as a hand uprooted from the dirt and snatched the gun, pulling it into the ground.

Involuntarily, he gulped.

The creature’s torso rose from the ground, like a mythical being arising from a black ocean, it lifted its arm, waving at him to follow. Then, like that, it sank back down into the ground, and, as it did, the once solid path beneath began to sink in, descending to a black staircase.

Afraid but intrigued, Mikey considered the path before him. He couldn’t see the end. Was there one? He made his first step forward. Beneath his boots, he saw another pair of eyes barely visible, peeking up at him. He let a breath escape him he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding in, then continued.

Before very long, he found himself in a large, black hallway. On either side of the walls, he could see more sets of yellow eyes staring back at him, a dozen’s worth at least.

“What are you?” Mikey asked underneath his breath, speaking to himself and not in the least expecting an actual answer.

“What do you think I am?” A voice called back.

The voice was deep, silky and matter of fact, projecting from both sides of the hallway, the floor, and the ceiling overhead. When it spoke, Mikey observed beams of light traveling to and bouncing off what he assumed were the bodies of each yellow-eyed creature. The exactness of what he was witnessing, Mikey couldn’t be for certain, but it reminded him of a particularly elaborate spider’s web, or, perhaps more accurately, an animal’s nervous system. When the creature spoke, everywhere Mikey looked he saw white and blue lines.

“Are you the planet?” Mikey asked.

“I am.”

“How?”

“How do you think?”

“You’re an anomaly,” Mikey answered, trying his best to seem confident in the face of the unbelievable.

“Is that what I am?” The Planet asked plainly.

“Do you disagree?”

No.”

“So, you’re an anomaly then, do you have a name?”

“I have come to find that your kind address me as Jazming. That suits me well enough.”

“So, you know what we call you.”

“I know a lot of things. For instance, I know that your name is Michael and I know that your brother Sylvester is here with another rabbit who goes by the name ‘Needles’. Furthermore, I know that you are runaways from the Myros Construction Agency, and I also know that the Myros corporation is not on the up and up when it comes to the treatment of its employees.”

“You know where my brother is!?” Mikey asked, his ears pricked at the mere mention of his name.

“Yes, he wrecked his aircraft into me, then, shot at me.”

“He is an acquired taste.”

“Clearly.”

“Do you know where my other brother is, … my brother Jack?”

“I do not.” The statement was matter of fact, but disappointing, nonetheless. “The knowledge I have, I have because of travelers like yourself. Every ship that has wrecked here, I have learned from. Every book I have uncovered, I, or a part of me, has read. I can’t see the future; I am a mere curator of information. I hear it, I keep it, and, from time to time, I share the information I have read with others.”

“So, I take it no one has come by talking about a rabbit named Jack that was sent to Duggins?”

“I am afraid not.”

“Are you lonely?”

“Hmm, …,” Jazmine hummed in contemplation, “I can understand your impulse to ask that question, however, I do not feel I can truly grasp the concept of loneliness beyond a superficial level.”

“You don’t long for contact with other people?”

“People, … hmm. I can’t say that I do. What I do enjoy is observing it. I aim to build an archive of all-encompassing information.”

“What good is information if it is about people that you want nothing to do with?”

“On the contrary, I am many people,” The voice responded.

As it responded, Mikey observed a flash while Jazmine illustrated its point, it was like flicking on a switch, and was once a dozen pairs of yellow eyes staring back at him increased, now resembling something close to an army’s worth, all surrounding him from within the planet’s walls.

“They are sentient? They can act freely of you?”

“They can act as freely as I allow for them to. They know they need to defend themselves and survive, everything else beyond that is but mere window-dressing in the end.”

“But you want to protect them? You care about them?”

“I am their God. Does your God care about you?”

“He does, doesn’t he?”

“Does he?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know?”

“He watches over us.”

“And I watch over them. It doesn’t mean I care about them.”

“My God allows me to have freewill.”

“Your God allows you freewill until the very moment he doesn’t.” Again the statement depicted no emotion, letting Michael know the planet meant no true offense. “You know you need to defend yourself and survive, everything else is but mere window-dressing in the end.”

“That window-dressing is what makes life livable.”

“And how livable has that window-dressing made your life so far?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, as a boy you were kidnapped by smugglers, sold to a big, evil corporation, has your window-dressing made your life livable? What good is the freewill your God affords you if it can so easily be taken away?”

“Hmm, …,” Mikey responded, in his own moment of deep contemplation. It was a thought he hadn’t considered, if only because the answer would likely only serve to worsen his predicament. “Maybe he is what has allowed us to come as far as we have.”

“Or, maybe he left Heaven, stepped out for a moment, only to come back to the pearly gates and find out they changed the locks? You believe yourself lucky to have survived all you have survived, but maybe you should believe yourself unlucky to have had it happen to you in the first place. Once unlucky, once lucky, maybe you are neither, maybe you just are, and maybe that fact is independent of God?”

“Well,” Mikey started, unsure of what he would say next. “If I were to meet him, I certainly would have some questions to ask him.”

“Would you ask him to go back?”

“To when? Before we were abducted?”

“To before you were abducted, of course! It wouldn’t be difficult. Not for an all powerful God.”

As the voice spoke, a green silhouette walked out from the wall. This one was different, however. What started out as what Mikey deemed a grown adult version of its design, became smaller. It went from a grown man to a young boy, then, to a toddler struggling to walk. It wobbled forward until falling to a seated position. In a fetal position, it became an infant. And then, poof, nothing else came after that.

“My God wouldn’t sacrifice one of his own to prove a point.”

The voice chuckled, “Whose God have you been watching?”

“Why did you bring me down here? Am I like all the others who became stranded on your planet? Did you kill them!?”

“Time loses itself very quickly.” The planet sounded somewhere between sorrowful and contemplative. “ Sometimes, when my eyes stare into the never-ending sky, I swear I can see it. Every universe. Infinite. Every timeline. Things blur. I have seen men don crowns and call themselves Kings, wielding unheard of powers, veiling their cities and masquerading as demigods. In an entirely different direction, I looked and saw a hardened war veteran’s jaw drop when demons rose from the ground. I have seen it. So, when you ask me whether you are safe, when you imply things of nonsense, know this – if I wanted you dead, I’d blink.”

Mikey felt a strong twinge of fear fight its way up him. After everything, … after everything, he had never felt as terrified as he did in that moment. It may not have been God, but it was the closest thing to where they stood.

“Then, … what do you want?”

“I told you – I want information.”

“What kind of information?”

“All kinds.”

“We don’t have much to offer you.”

“You have lots to offer me. All you must do is look.”

“Where should I look?”

“I will create a map for you.”

“You are very generous.”

“Oh, you have yet to realize the extent of my generosity, Michael. Your brother and his colleague, are both above us now, looking for you. I will lead you to them.”

“Thank -,” Mikey began, only to have his words turn to ash in his throat.

“Then, I will eat them.”

“…”

“I will eat them as I ate every animal that has landed on my surface. I will eat them, and they will become one of mine. They will submerge and they will succumb, as the ones before them have.”

“…”

“Unless, of course, we are able to propose a trade.”

“…”

“I will provide you with a spaceship. My men have saw to it and have treated it well.” The planet’s voice become almost sing song in its delight. “All you must do is live your life. Find your brother Jack. Find your family. Make yourself whole. Do whatever you need to. But, one day, I will create a map for you, and you will follow it, because a promise is a promise.“

Mikey stared down. Even when he thought he was gazing away from the planet, he, in fact, started at it. There was no choice for them. Like the Mayor, promising change, it came at a cost. Like Myros Construction, each good gesture accrued a debt.

“I promise,” Mikey said.

He could only hope this debt wouldn’t be worth more than what he stood to gain.

2.

Zachary Leake stood before the coliseum, awaiting the loud and enthusiastic crowd to settle down and have a seat. He cocked an eyebrow, detaching his microphone from its stand and holding it in the paw of his hand. He donned bright, vibrant clothes, a dash of yellow, a little bit of red, and black sunglasses, it seemed appropriate for the situation. It was a big night for them, they would come to realize.

“Rabies and germs,” Zachary Leake began, leading the crowd to raise their voices yet again.

Jack didn’t know very much about Zachary Leake. Most of what he had heard had been either said in whispers or was speculative. What he did know is that the crowd, at least, seemed to know Zachary Leake. He and the rest of the Trials of Calpera gladiators stood with him, lined up against the wall of the coliseum, watching their boss at his podium.

“You have watched us, and you have cheered for us. What you once thought was fine dining here in Calpera, my friends, believe me now when I say, it was only the appetizer. So as not to be coarse, I set our course to introduce you to our very first course – mark your calendars!”

The man was charismatic, Jack would give him that. He couldn’t help but wonder just how long he had spent working on that wordplay and how proud he was of it. Based on everything Jack had heard, he struggled to find a grasp on what kind of animal Zachary Leake was.

By now, dependent on everyone else Jack had met, basically ever, he slowly became more skeptical and a natural naysayer to his own thoughts. Everything about him felt like it could drop either way – chaotic neutral, he supposed.

As for the announcer, his bright colored clothing implied he was an eccentric man, but it could just as easily imply he was completely off his rocker. The very concept of The Trials of Calpera was a – hard to distinguish – shade of grey, which clashed with his otherwise colorful repertoire.

People here died for pretend, only to be brought back. Letting an animal die, then bringing it back. It must have taken broad shoulders to play God like that. How did Zachary rationalize it, he wondered. Entertainment? Technically harmless fun?

Jack didn’t have an answer, but he found himself honest and truly enraptured by the peculiarities of the man.

Not sure what it meant, but Mama Sharko spoke highly of him. She called him a pioneer and a philanthropist. Unfortunately, Jack had yet to be truly sold on her judge of character either.

“I now welcome you to the real Trials of Calpera. Twelve chosen gladiators, chosen by you, the fans, will compete in, not the table scrap battles you have seen, but all out competitions. Anything our minds can conjure up to test their will, we will do. The winner will be crowned the inaugural Calpera Cup Champion!”

Jack leaned over toward Mama Sharko, “What exactly does that mean?”

Mama Sharko shushed him, then said, “It’ll only be the biggest prize on the whole planet.”

“The Trials will see each participant tested in risk-taking, death defying, and even some not death-defying feats. By the end, it will come down to the four final Champions of Calpera. These warriors will reap rewards for their success. They can either walk away from The Trials of Calpera with a fortune’s worth of Papers as restitution, or they can come back again next year?”

Jack laughed, “Who would want that? Don’t you get that anyways? I mean, what happens to the ones who don’t finish in the final four?”

“And, you may ask, what happens to the ones who don’t finish in the final four?” Zackary smiled, then made a sly gesture with his hand, dragging his thumb across his throat. “Are those stakes high enough for you?”

The crowd chanted. They were high enough. Jack gulped. They were more than high enough.

“The winner will win the first Calpera Cup and will not only achieve legendary status, but he will receive whatever his heart desires.”

Zachary looked over at the selection of men and women, combatants he would be making jump through hoops for no other reason than because he could. Jack’s impression of Zachary had gone from one of curiosity and speculation, to affirmative certainty – he was God in this place.

“Game on!” Zachary exclaimed.

3.

Syl, Mikey, and Needles stood inside of their new space, Syl and Needles both smiling from ear to ear, whereas Mikey would need some cheering up to say the least. He had done his best to instill the same sense of fear of Jazmine that he had been made to feel, but swiftly realized that it couldn’t be done. Maybe it was better that way, maybe they could just take the win, even if it was on borrowed time.

Syl smiled at him, “Be thankful! The planet is behind us,” Syl said.

“For now,” Mikey replied.

“For now. But he let us have free rein, didn’t he?”

“Free rein, until he reels us in?

“What’s he going to do, Mikey?” Syl threw up his hands to show emphasize his point “We will be light-years away from him before you know it. Either way, like everything else, Mikey, we will handle it together. But we can’t do that until we find Jack, so that is where we are headed off to next!”

“Yeah, …,” Mikey agreed. “… Yeah, let’s save Jack.”

“So, boys? What are we going to call our ship?” Needles asked, looking over at them with a wide-faced grin.

“What do you mean?” Syl asked.

“Well, every ship has a name, doesn’t it?” Needles, gave an expectant look to Syl, letting it linger before pretending to read some invisible book. “In all your science fiction books that you have read, right? This looks like it will be our ship for the long haul, so what are we going to call it?”

“Hmm, … I don’t know.”

“Maybe something Jack would like? Since he isn’t here with us, make him a part of it,” Mikey suggested.

“Paul,” Syl said plainly.

“Paul? What kind of name for a spaceship is Paul?” Needles asked, unable to hide her irritation.

“I like Paul. Paul’s good people, Needles. When have you ever known a Paul and been disappointed?”

“Have you ever known someone named Paul?”

“No,” Syl admitted. “But I’ve never been disappointed with someone named Paul either.”

“What about something cool like Star Destroyer or The Thousand Year Hawk? Maybe something elegant and ambiguous?”

“Paul … ia?” Syl suggested.

“I like it,” Mikey said.

“Well then,” Needles said, throwing up her hands and accepting defeat. “Paulia, it is.”