Published by One Fine Day Reading 2013 www.onefinedayreading.co.

uk Edward Chilvers asserts his right to be identified as the author of this work edwardjchilvers@onefinedayreading.co.uk

By the Same Author The Shallow Valleys Perished The Executioners Apprentice The Executioners Apprentice: The Siege To the Land of the Vertical Mountains

From a very young age Dr Harley Huxtable had been convinced he was destined for greatness. He had been a strange child, one devoted to his studies and making no friends, completely uninterested in sport or the play of other children. Much of the time he had appeared lost in a world completely of his own making, either reading avidly or wandering up and down the grass concourse of his boarding school muttering inaudibly to himself, his daydreams such that not even the most vicious of bullies could rouse him from his musings. At school he had been brilliant, at university he was hailed a genius and by the time he became Professor of advanced matter physics at one of the greatest universities of the world he was considered a great man. His work on particle theorem was unparalleled and by the time he reached his fortieth birthday he was hailed by some as a

modern day Newton. And yet Harley never really seemed to enjoy any of it, never seemed to appreciate the lauding of his teachers, the adulation of his fellows or the dinners given in his honour at which the greatest scientific minds of the country would line up to pay homage to him. He never really awoke from his dreaming. Most of his colleagues and students found him to be vague and aloof, sometimes even downright rude. He did not seem to be at all interested in the simple pleasures of alcohol, entertainment and sex rumour persisted that he did not even own a television. But he must surely, they wondered, be up to something in that huge farmhouse he had managed to acquire for himself in the Thames Valley countryside just outside Oxford. Many in the scientific community worried that Harley was too lazy, that if he only applied himself a little more his brilliant mind (a mind that came around only once every few hundred years, they said) could advance the cause of physics into a new epoch. Though his research papers were brilliant he produced few of them. He did not like to lecture and was rarely at the university when he didnt have to be. When his colleagues tried to share notes with him or come together with him to benefit from his wisdom he simply snubbed them. Most of his time he spent shut up in that farmhouse of his, a farmhouse which did not contain any animals and where the grass on the fields was simply left to grow as it pleased. Just a little deeper into the rock. Dr Harley Huxtable stood back and watched as the great quarrying equipment bored down even further into the Scottish mountainside. All around him people in white coats and goggles hovered around, hanging on to his every word. He had told his colleagues and financers he was conducting an experiment into the gas particles found deep within the prehistoric rock as a means to investigate their aging processes, but this was all nonsense. His research assistants and fellows trusted him absolutely because he was a genius. And the fact none of them really knew or understood the experiment was not really all that surprising, in fact it was typical of Harley because the great man was quite simply on another plane to the rest of them. He did not trust anybody enough to reveal the true meaning behind the drilling. Behind him stood a huge wooden crate the size of a house and inside that crate, packed tightly with foam and sawdust, was the realisation of his lifetime dream.

Benjamin Rutherford, former SAS Major and winner of the Military Cross, was a broken man. His career in the army, where he had once been tipped all the way to the top, was now at an end, had ended in an ignominious dishonourable discharge and he had narrowly escaped prison. He had been unlucky. Nobody who truly knew what had happened could doubt that and yet he had been in charge when the disaster had happened and the buck now stopped squarely with him. He could not stand to be inactive and yet with his record none but the most menial of occupations would have him. Certainly the army was not willing to take him back. It was galling. It was strange. It was as though his memories had suddenly been transplanted, overnight, into a completely different body. It was as though he had been lobotomised. All his life Benjamin Rutherford had craved the thrills of the great outdoors. He had hiked and flown. He had tunnelled and climbed. Above all he had led, a true leader who had inspired loyalty by the very tone of his voice. Now, with the great betrayal that had led to his disgrace, all this was at an end. Benjamin Rutherford no longer wanted to go out. He no longer sought out the company of others; in fact he now ran from both of these things and rarely left the four walls of his self-imposed prison. From his nondescript one bedroom flat on the outskirts of an industrial estate just outside, Ipswich Benjamin Rutherford stared out at the driving rain, sighed and got ready to go out and claim his benefit cheque. Everything was in place. Dr Harley Huxtable almost allowed himself a little smile. The great

metal box was ensconced snugly into the mountainside and the diggers were packing the rock around it. The box could be accessed only by a narrow passageway and even this would be closed up in time. Harley turned to leave. Did we succeed? Asked one of the research assistants as he passed her on his way to his car. Harley glanced at her and paused. Succeed? He asked in puzzlement. With the experiment, Professor. Was the experiment a success? Harley licked his thin lips and treated her to a penetrating stare. You are a doctor yourself are you not? I am, Professor, she replied. Then you tell me whether the experiment was a success, said the professor simply, and he walked away. The research assistant shrugged in bemusement. A few months later Harley published a paper on the experiments he had apparently been conducting in the Highland rock. The paper was well received, as all of the great mans papers were well received, but there was a general consensus amongst his peers that this was by no means the professors best work. Many commented that it was in part a rehashing of old ideas, confirming what they already knew with only a slight angle to advance the scientific knowledge of gas particles. Some of his harshest critics pointed to the paper as yet more evidence of Harleys laziness. But the professor, as usual, seemed not to care at all. The paper was duly noted and forgotten about. Harley Huxtable returned to his Oxfordshire farmhouse and looked thoughtfully at the large empty space in his barn which had once housed the culmination of all his dreams. For the first time in his life the professor was uncertain. He was not quite sure how to proceed. I must find myself the vital cog, he muttered to himself as he paced up and down in the early hours of the morning. I must find the perfect specimen. The man to help me realise my lifes work. The man of one million years. Now you have been a silly boy, havent you? Said the nurse patronisingly. It wont be a very quick death if you swallow the pills down with water, just destroy your liver and cause you all kinds of problems. But the point is it wont kill you outright, thats all just nonsense. So did I do any damage? Not this time. You were lucky you chickened out and called us. But still; silly, silly boy. Benjamin Rutherford sighed and sat back heavily against the fluffed up cushion of his hospital bed. It was all going wrong for him. Even his death was not proceeding to plan. He would be sure to jump off a bridge next time. That was certain to do it. Nobody ever survived a jump off a tall bridge. Benjamin closed his eyes and tried to sleep but it was no use. His mind was abuzz with memories of his past. He remembered the great wilderness of Afghanistan; leading his men into the most hostile and inhospitable regions, deep into the heart of enemy territory. He remembered how he had pushed his men, and they had pushed themselves even further, because they had wanted to please him. He remembered how the captured insurgents had trembled before him and begged for their lives, begged to tell him every one of their secrets, for here was the great Captain Rutherford, a man whose reputation had travelled the entire length of this arid land. Now, just a few months later, he was being called a silly boy and a chicken because he was no longer able to cope with even the most simple trials of life. If only it was all over. Good afternoon Mr Rutherford. Benjamin was of a mind to pretend to sleep. He did not want any more unwelcome interruptions,

condescending medical staff treating him like a child or psychologists trying to get him to open up about his past. But he knew they would only come back later. Reluctantly he opened his eyes. The fellow sitting on the chair beside his bed surprised him. He did not look like a doctor. Indeed it was a surprise to Benjamin that the man had been allowed to enter a hospital at all because he looked most disgracefully unhygienic. His mousy brown hair was long and greasy and he wore a pinstriped black blazer around a size too big for him that positively glistened with dirt and wear. He had a matted beard that was completely unkempt with tufts and strands sticking out here and there. And yet Benjamin was sure he recognised the man from somewhere. Are you a doctor? He asked warily. Of sorts Mr Rutherford, replied the unkempt man. He had the slow and nervous voice of one who was not used to talking. But that is not why I am here. I wish to offer you an opportunity, so to speak. A chance to, how can I put it, escape from the life you so clearly despise. Are you from the army? The secret services? Asked Benjamin, hope rising in his veins. The unkempt man shook his head. My name is Professor Harley Huxtable, Mr Rutherford. I am a scientist. I see. The professor regarded the former soldier thoughtfully. Benjamin Rutherford appeared a perfect specimen for what he had in mind. In his mid-thirties and of average height, slim and stocky with not an ounce of fat on his body, and his dark features gave him an almost Mediterranean look which Harley found a most pleasing aesthetic. Best of all the former soldier had had enough of this world and was seeking to enter another, but whether that was a world of death of something else entirely was open to question. The man would definitely do, so to speak. I suppose I had better tell you what I want, said the professor at last. I suppose so, replied Benjamin apathetically. First of all I would like to say I know all about you, Mr Rutherford, began Harley. I know about your military career and how it ended, and how you were unlucky. I know what you have been doing since, and that is not a lot. I know you have tried to end your life and that you are deeply unhappy. I am sorry if what I say is distressing to you, Mr Rutherford. Would you like me to address you as Captain? Whatever you want, shrugged Benjamin in a bored tone. I think I should like to call you Captain, said the professor. It has a far better ring to it, I think. So Captain Rutherford, Harley cleared his throat. My name is Harley Huxtable. I am, as I have said, a scientist. Perhaps you have heard of me, for my colleagues tell me I have a certain amount of celebrity. Your name rings a bell, said Benjamin. Cant really say Im a fan though. Never mind, said the professor. His voice dropped an octave. His face became grave. Captain Rutherford, you and I are complete strangers and yet I am about to open up to you more than I have ever opened up to anybody in my entire life. Benjamin sat up in bed, his interest piqued. Go on, he said cautiously. The professor cleared his throat. All my life, he began. I have been fascinated by the notion of perfection, the idea that it possible to create something that cannot be bettered and indeed that the elements of perfection are already apparent in our universe. A particle, for example, is a perfect manifestation. One cannot improve upon a particle, it can simply be changed to create another particle which is equally as perfect. It is true we may find different uses for the different types of particle we create but this in itself does not alter my contention that the particle itself, as the very essence of the universe in which we live, cannot be improved upon. That is to say it is impossible to create anything without using particles, nor would it be desirable to do so. Benjamin Rutherford nodded slowly, not really taking it in.

The professor continued. Time is also perfect, Captain Rutherford. Time is something else that cannot be altered or improved upon. The physical world cannot survive without time; a world without time is beyond our understanding and this is why we find the notion of infinity so difficult to grasp. Everything in our universe must react to time. Time is the ultimate and unalterable catalyst of change. We cannot improve upon it and nor would we desire to. Benjamin Rutherford furrowed his brow and did not even attempt to disguise his confusion. The professor did not seem to notice. All my life, Captain Rutherford, said Harley emphatically. I have strived to understand perfection, to create a being of the most perfect wisdom who is able to answer all of the fundamental questions of our universe. To this end I have conducted many experiments and at last I believe I have found an answer. He leaned forward and his voice became a whisper. What I have done, you see, is to create a chamber in which the particles control time itself, in which they do not age with time but rather exist in a state of constant harmony. Everything within that chamber is as it is, and will remain how it is forever. It cannot be damaged, it cannot be destroyed. Do you know what this means, Captain Rutherford? Im afraid not. It means I can at last begin to create the perfect being! Exclaimed Harley emphatically. For this is no ordinary chamber I have created, rather it contains everything one could possibly require to obtain perfection! On a computer within that chamber is a database containing every printed work ever written, computerised in digital form. There is also an antenna within the chamber that will download to type format every spoken and printed word as it comes in, so that one can keep up with progress without being corrupted by the outside world. But best of all I have invented a giant computer programme within the chamber, a sort of computer game if you will. I call it the God Simulator. I created it by downloading the entire database of the British Library and have fed into it every feasible scenario that could possibly take place in our universe, as our current laws of physics understand it. With the God Simulator you can make any command you desire. You can simulate the creation and advancement of intelligent life, build rivers and mountains plants and suns, an entire universe of your own making. There are no limits! With this simulator to learn from, and with the knowledge of the entire world, one could remain in that chamber for a million years and emerge at last into the sunlight as the supreme being! As God you mean? Said Benjamin, his eyes wide open. You mean you wish to create a man to become God. I believe it is possible, replied the professor. And I would like to offer you the opportunity. I do not deny it will be difficult. You will face trials the like of which no man has ever faced, for you will feel yourself to be immortal. But afterwards, oh but you could control the world, Captain Rutherford. Just think of it! So what would you have me do? Just stay there, in the chamber that I have created replied the professor. There is actually a great deal to be done in there, more than there is to be done within four walls anywhere else in the world. If you are hedonistic you will be provided for. Likewise if you are studious, religious, romantic or psychopathic and you will be all of these things at some point or another. Benjamins face became serious. I think you are quite mad, he remarked. Of course you do, replied the professor calmly. And I do not blame you for thinking that, because you do not understand what I am saying. Your mind simply cannot comprehend the enormity of what I am saying. Of course you think me mad. Benjamin Rutherford thought carefully for a moment. Like I say, he said at last. I do not believe for a moment you have the means to carry out what you have just described, not that I understood half of it anyway. However before you came into the room I was five minutes away from discharging myself from hospital and jumping off a bridge. You have, at the very least, got my

attention. I do not believe a word you are saying but I am nonetheless willing to play along with your game. I have no family, no career. Nothing, in short, to lose. Thus did Benjamin Rutherford allow himself to become persuaded, and it was easy. Harley Huxtable, with his great mind, had counted on nothing less. He had chosen Benjamin Rutherford precisely because of the former captains fragile mental state, because he had all but given up, his mind was no longer with the conventional world and could thus be moulded and led like a pliant sheep. The morality of the situation was lost on the professor. He had long since ceased to care about societys scruples. All was fair in the quest for the greater good of bringing his lifes work to fruition.

Two weeks later Harley Huxtable and Benjamin Rutherford met near the same mountain in the Scottish Highlands where Harley had concealed the chamber all those months before. This rock formation is geologically secure, said Harley as he led the way down the darkened tunnel. It has not changed in almost fifty million years and it is not likely to do so either. It may be submerged by rising sea levels in time but it will not vanish altogether. And even it did this chamber is made of the strongest material imaginable why it would survive a nuclear explosion. I was not sure whether I would come or not, said Benjamin vaguely, not really paying attention and speaking more to himself than the professor. In the end I thought what the hell, Ill play along for now. A few weeks by myself in complete solitude, away from the world and all its ills and playing computer games the perfect escape. I can see you still doubt me, Captain Rutherford, said Harley, not sounding at all bothered. Rest assured I am true to my word. You may not yet realise the huge impact you are eventually to have upon mankind, or perhaps you just cannot cope with the timescale involved. Either way you are to enter the chamber and that is good enough for me. And do I have a get out clause? Asked Benjamin. If I dont like it can I leave whenever I want? You will not want to leave, replied the professor confidently. But if anything does go wrong whilst I am alive I will of course take steps to assist you. Well I suppose thats something. Steep steps led downwards to a heavy looking metal door that reminded Benjamin of a bank vault. The professor produced a large wheel and inserted it into a cog, turned it hard. The door swung open. Another door of exactly the same type stood before them. This is the entrance, explained Harley as he closed the first door behind them. This door is simply to avoid corrupting the atmosphere of the chamber. He inserted the wheel into the cog of the new door, turned it and it swung open. If you please. Benjamin smiled sardonically as he stepped into the chamber. See you in a million years, he muttered as the door swung shut behind him. Harley Huxtable walked back up the steep stone steps, along the stone passageway and out into the open. Over the next two days large mixing lorries poured concrete into the entrance to the chamber until it was completely filled in. The professor purchased himself a cottage in the nearest village and phoned the university to resign from each of his posts. He ordered a few possessions be brought up from his farmhouse in Oxfordshire and made arrangements for the farmhouse to be sold. Then he ensconced himself in the attic bedroom of his cottage and determined never to be seen in public again. Benjamin turned back towards the door and found there was no handle attached to it. It was just a

smooth piece of what appeared to be wood. It did not budge when he pushed against it. Benjamin did not harbour any especial desire to escape, simply to test out the parameters of what was, for the time being, his prison. The chamber was like a well-furnished, spacious middle class living room with plastered magnolia walls and comfortable furnishings, a settee and an easy chair set out near the centre before a large Persian style carpet. A large and elaborate looking chandelier hung down from the ceiling. A huge screen dominated an entire wall. Stairs led upwards to a mezzanine floor which contained a large circular structure shaped like a circus big top. Benjamin approached the circular structure which whirred and buzzed. A door was set into the side. Benjamin reached out to open it then stopped himself. This must be the God Simulator, he told himself, and he was not ready to enter that just yet. Underneath the mezzanine floor was a sleeping area complete with double bed and chest of drawers. The computer was set just before the stairs to the mezzanine floor and appeared to be attached to the giant screen. Next to it lay a portable reading tablet. An old fashioned grandfather clock stood not far from the computer. Below it was a timer which counted how long had passed since his confinement. Two minutes so far. To the right was what appeared to be a window, for there were curtains across it and sunlight seemed to stream in. But when Benjamin investigated further he found that it was in fact an artificial light source there to simulate sunlight which could be turned up or down as required and even had a full and half-moon setting. A closed off area leading to what was presumably a bathroom stood to the near right hand side. Of the fabled antenna there was no sign. Benjamin assumed that if it existed at all it must be on the outer structure. There was no kitchen area, Benjamin suddenly realised with alarm. No kind of food at all for that matter. There was, however, what appeared to be an oven door situated just to the side of the great screen. Benjamin approached and opened it cautiously. It was exactly like an oven inside. Written on the back wall of the oven however, in what appeared to be black marker pen, were the following words: Ask. Close oven. Open oven. Consume. Benjamins face creased in confusion. He closed the oven door. Steak, he said uncertainly. There came a whirring sound from within the oven itself. He opened the door. The steak stood there on a plate, medium rare. Just the way he liked it. He retrieved it from the oven and wolfed it down hungrily. As good as any steak he had ever tasted. He approached the oven again. Beer. And it was there. Cigarettes. Cigarettes. Women. Nothing happened. Consumables only, it seemed. Benjamin sank down into the easy chair and declared to himself that it was the most comfortable seat he had ever sat on. A remote control sat on the arm rest. Benjamin flicked a random button and the screen flickered to life. The following words appeared: Choose film or show. Benjamin chose a film. The lights dimmed. The film played on the big screen complete with 3D effects and surround sound. It was like being in a cinema. This is okay, said Benjamin aloud. I will not starve, I will not die of boredom. I can stay here for a few months. This is not so bad. Benjamin Rutherford spent the first three days of his confinement drinking beer, smoking cigarettes and watching films on the big screen. During that time he remained in a near constant state of drunkenness and so was unable to fully appreciate the anomalies taking place around him. He did not at first think to question, for example, why the plates and beer bottles and cigarette ends he so casually discarded simply disappeared within an hour of being done with. He did not question why it was that when once he fell asleep with a smouldering cigarette in his mouth which then dropped down on to the carpet below there was no scorching or worse. He did not draw any relevance from the time he staggered up to use the toilet and tripped and fell against the glass coffee table then got up without a scratch. He did not wonder why he only used the toilet when he thought he should, and not because he really needed to. He did not comment upon his lack of a hangover when he woke up.

On the fourth day Benjamin Rutherford awoke in his bed and decided he would not, after all, get drunk today. Instead he would clear up the mess he had surely made. But of course there was no mess to clear up. Everything was as clean as it had been the day he moved in. Benjamins first thought was Harley Huxtable had come in to clean up whilst he was sleeping, or had sent a cleaner in on his behalf. Or perhaps Benjamin had somehow managed to do it whilst very drunk. No, that could not be it. He could just about accept the notion of food appearing from nowhere but he could not see how things could simply vanish into thin air. Benjamin decided to perform an experiment. He approached the oven. Orange juice, he ordered. The machine whirred, Benjamin opened the door and there was the orange juice. He downed it quickly and set the glass down upon the coffee table and waited. After around half an hour the glass simply vanished. Benjamin shook his head. He could not understand it at all. Of course the truth was that the food and the beer and the containers they came in were not really there at all. They existed in the chamber solely because Benjamin willed them to exist. He did not, in fact, need to eat, drink, sleep or go to the toilet. He did so only because he was used to it and because he found such things to be rather pleasing. Here in the chamber, with its sealed environment, shielded from the excesses of time, everything would remain the same. Not even Benjamin could change it. He could only change himself. If he felt drunk it was because he wanted to be drunk, if he was hungry or thirsty it was because he willed it upon himself. He did not wish to suffer physical pain or headaches and so he did not suffer them, even though in the real world these things came naturally to those who over imbibed as Benjamin did. Two weeks into his confinement Benjamin Rutherford decided he had had enough. He wanted out. It was not that he was bored of the chamber, or frustrated or claustrophobic, it was merely that he desired human company. But the door was bolted firmly shut and there was no method of communication with which to call the outside world. Ben began to panic. He overturned the tables and chairs and his bed; he smashed his fists against the magnolia walls and gouged his fingernails against the plasterwork. It was no use. He ordered a bottle of whiskey and drank it all down in under half an hour then passed out on the floor (but only because he thought this was the appropriate action to take. He did not have to pass out or be drunk if he so desired). When he awoke the room was back to normal again. All was as it was before. For two weeks the cycle continued anew. Ben would wake up, smash up the chamber, get drunk and fall asleep. It was a year before Ben finally accepted he was to be here for the long term, probably the rest of his life, which he at this point considered in human terms. In all of that time he never once entered the God Simulator, if that indeed was what it was, because he imagined it might involve some kind of commitment and he was not ready for such a long term commitment just yet. He began to greatly miss human company, and the company of women especially. He still watched a lot of films and he still got drunk a great deal but he also read as well, and the reading tablet gave him an unlimited supply. Although he was no longer as prone to acts of violence he nonetheless became terribly depressed. He began to look upon Harley Huxtable as the incarnation of the devil and became convinced the professor was secretly filming his plight. Indeed the search for hidden cameras became something of an obsession for Benjamin and there were days when he did nothing except comb every inch of the chamber in a fruitless hunt. Sometimes he would sit for days on end, neither eating, drinking or sleeping (none of which he was required to do any longer) but instead pondering the complexities of the professors character and trying to work out what it was that had inspired the man to embark upon such a strange experiment. Harley had said that Benjamin was to become the perfect human, the ultimate being, and yet Benjamin certainly did not feel he was

making any progress in this direction as yet. He was sure the professor was somehow watching him and wished the man would give him a sign, some advice or at the very least have a conversation with him. Besides, surely the professor somehow had to moderate the experiment in some way, even if the chamber itself was self-sustaining as it appeared to be. Benjamin soon realised he did not age or become unwell no matter what he ate or drank and so, released from any sort of responsibility for his own actions, gave himself away to total hedonism. For a very long time he did not pass a single sober hour but instead drank and smoked and injected himself as and when he pleased. The God Simulator and the great library database within the computer went completely ignored as he indulged himself in every pleasure. He dearly hoped the professor was watching from somewhere. He dearly wished the great man, the man with the once in a hundred year brain could see what an atrocious mess Benjamin was making of the entire experiment. The best times were when Benjamin would indulge in a cocktail of drink and drugs for weeks on end then fall asleep for days and dream non-stop. In his dreams he found he was able to take control far better than from the confines of what was in effect his cell and was able to interact with his fantasy people, build relationships and succeed. Of course the professor loomed large in these dreams as well but for some reason whenever he met him Benjamin could never be angry with the man. Often they ended up working together in some nonsensical adventure before the professor would fade out of sight only to return much later with an equally ridiculous scheme. Sometimes dreams and reality blurred and Benjamin spent years convinced of the reality of his imaginings. When he finally woke up for good, twenty-four years later, he found he could remember next to nothing of what had passed. Benjamin could never quite pinpoint what it was that led him to leave the hedonism behind and try the God Simulator for the first time. One day he simply woke up fresh and warm in his bed and was overcome with an overwhelming desire for goodness and purity. He felt the need to be creative, to do good, to exercise control over something more than his own hallucinatory dreams. And so he climbed the stairs to the mezzanine floor. The God Simulator had a diameter of three metres and was around two metres tall and consisted of thick blue metal with glass windows which seemed to have been blocked out with blue paint. Benjamin had poked his head inside the God Simulator before now but he had never bothered to switch it on. When he entered he was confronted with a comfortable padded swivel chair. He sat down facing a large red button which, aside from the chair, was the only thing in the sphere. He pressed the button. Suddenly the small room was plunged into the most complete darkness. Benjamin turned slowly around in his chair, turning again and again. A small light hovered in front of him. He reached out his finger to touch it. The light attached itself to his finger. Benjamin brought the forefinger on his other hand round and pushed his two fingers together and then apart. The light expanded before him and became a warm glow. He stretched it as far as his hand span would allow then rose from his chair and pulled it at the edges so that it filled every part of the room. He returned to his chair and regarded the colourful clouds which now filled his vision. He reached out for a yellow cloud and took it into his hands, moulded and kneaded it into a ball and set it back in its place where it glowed brightly before him. He kneaded an orange cloud, then a red one and set them both back into the orb. Then he took the red ball and brought it together with the yellow ball. A great explosion filled the space and Ben felt a pleasant heat against his face and the whoosh of air. When he looked again he found what appeared to be tiny balls of gas floating before him. He kneaded a yellow gas cloud into a ball and brought several of the other balls around to hover close to it. Slowly the smaller balls of gas began to circle the yellow orb in a regular orbit. Benjamin reached out and put his hands between the yellow orb and the furthest ball of gas and pulled outwards. The Solar System, for this

is what it was, grew larger, indeed it seemed the space inside the Simulator grew larger and soon he was looking down at one of the smaller balls of gas and it was the size of a beach ball. He zoomed in upon the ball of gas even further still until it filled almost his entire field of vision. He reached out and spun it around and it continued to spin, steady and regular. A cloud began to develop around it and as he watched the gas turned first to liquid, then cooled still further until solid patches could be made out. Soon it was a perfectly spherical, perfectly solid sphere. Benjamin licked his finger and touched a cloud. The cloud grew dark and grey then started to rain water down upon the surface of the sphere. The cloud grew until it almost completely covered the sphere and all the time the water rained down upon it. When at last the rain subsided Benjamin saw vast oceans and continents, with patches of land containing huge mountain ranges, plains and sandy deserts. Benjamin wiped some of the sweat from his brow and smeared it upon the surface of the earth. Tiny plants appeared and spread. They grew better upon the plains and not so well amongst the mountains and deserts, but they grew differently wherever they sprung up and in the most fertile areas became huge trees in forests which covered entire continents. Benjamin zoomed in some more and soon he was swimming actually swimming in the deep seas of the world he had created. He dived down, deep into the depths then plucked a hair from his head and allowed it to float before him. The hair twisted with the currents and disintegrated, its remains falling to the bottom of the sea. Benjamin followed them and soon he saw tiny fish swimming this way and that and before he knew it the entire ocean, wherever he swam, was positively teaming with fish. He reached out and took hold of a handful and moulded them together. A much larger beast with great tusks and a wide mouth now appeared before him. Benjamin moulded more fish into different shapes and more and more sea beasts were created. Now he swam back to the surface, took hold of one of the smaller beasts and threw it on to the dry land. The creature grew legs and crawled away. Benjamin took more beasts from the sea, of all different kinds and cast them on to all parts of his new world. Some he threw on to the plains, some he threw on to the mud, some into the deserts and some into the mountains. The beasts changed before his very eyes. Massive, terrifying monsters roamed the surface, some on two legs, some on four. The monsters fought with one another, preyed upon and consumed one another. Some came to dominate a particular area whilst others slunk off, defeated, to the more undesirable corners of the world. Benjamin took hold of a beast and threw it into the sky and as it fell it grew wings and made off into the air where it built a nest in the forests so it could be safe from the larger monsters. And all of the beasts, all of his creations, changed and evolved depending on where in the world they settled. In the colder polar regions the beasts developed thick fur and padded feet, white camouflage so they could hunt and hide more easily. In the arid deserts they grew scaly and lizard-like, and in the great plains they grew lean and quick. Benjamin roamed upon the surface of his world, witnessing earthquakes, tsunamis and volcanic eruptions. But he was the master of it all. Benjamin came to a vast stretch of plain bordered by a mountain range in the far distance. Here he sat down in a clearing by an oasis and there sculpted a model of a man and a woman from the mud. He gave the sculptures hair from his own head and watched as the two came to life before him. Finally some people to talk to! But the man and the woman did not seem to interested in speaking with him as an equal but chose to worship him instead, bringing him gifts of crops and sacrificing animals in his name. Benjamin created more people from the mud and these people bred amongst themselves. At his direction they built primitive stone structures, and constructed stone monuments in his name. They created giant effigies in his image and their adulation of him became more and more elaborate. They came to him and begged for his favour, and when he was unsure who was the most worthy they fought amongst themselves in terrible wars, developed great fortresses and siege equipment, built armies and colonised land then used that land on which to build great cities surrounded by walls and served by roads and viaducts. The march of humankind was relentless. Their cities expanded

across the world and the technologies improved. Castles became skyscrapers. Now they no longer cared about Benjamins favour, now it was all about themselves. Places of worship were knocked down and ignored as the people forgot about him. In a rage Benjamin zoomed out, far out, beyond the solar system and more until he had zoomed out so far he was holding the entire universe between his fingers. He screwed it up into a ball and darkness pervaded once more. The experiment, for now, was over. Benjamin stood up, stretched and left the orb, made his way down the steps and glanced at the grandfather clock. It showed the passing of twenty-five thousand years. For ten thousand years Ben was filled with a new despair. He went back to his debauchery as never before and the dreams blurred with the reality once more. Once he went, intoxicated, back into the God Simulator but the result was a universe of hellfire in which the tortured beings lined up before him to beg for death. Eventually he sobered up and resolved he would drink no more. He began reading with a vengeance, working his way through all the great volumes in the database. For years he did not move, did not get up to eat or sleep or go to the bathroom but instead remained motionless on the sofa, his eyes moving up and down over the lines of text on the electronic portable reader. He worked his way through every volume ever written and when he was finished went back and read them all again. Still he could not get it right. He could not destroy the spirit of the people he created, no matter how he created them. He tried to create an intelligent race of cat like beings but they behaved exactly the same as the humans. He tried to be vengeful and went around destroying cities and wonders but this only served to make his people resentful. He tried firing off meteorites into the planets but these were too destructive and meant he was forced to start all over again. He tried to create life on other planets, created water planets and desert worlds but still the results were the same with one tribe trying to dominate over all and ignoring his will at the end. He created worlds designed solely for his own pleasure, where the rivers ran with whiskey and perfectly formed women bowed to his every whim. But the advance of free will was unstoppable. His women turned against him. His slaves became servants, then masters and discovered formulas for turning the rivers back to whiskey. They defied him. It did not matter how much he read, the results were always the same. Humankind was a basic imperfection. The only success he ever enjoyed was when he created worlds without the presence of people, where the animals lived together in packs and rose and fell depending upon the luck of the seasons and where the rain fell. But as soon as humankind was added to the mix, no matter how late in the cycle of the world that may be, everything fell apart. Despite the good intentions of the professor the project appeared doomed to fail. Eons passed but it all seemed like nothing to the being who had once been known as Captain Benjamin Rutherford. Outside of the chamber time continued unhindered and the march of humankind was relentless. Planets were colonized, galaxies explored and the brain size of the average human expanded considerably so that old ideas such as entertainment and war were no longer considered relevant. Humanity now numbered in their trillions across the universe and occupied great glass cities which floated in the sky. Nobody had to work and luxury was the order of the day, every day. Physically, the average person became taller and lost most of their hair. Even the females now only possessed a few thin strands around their crowns. Certainly they would have been considered ugly to a twenty-first century visitor. But in the corner of the world that had once been Scotland not a great deal changed, geologically at least. The mountains corroded with the rains but there was no great flooding and certainly what small changes there were did not penetrate so far underground to the chamber. A million years passed by.

The Being sat silently on the high backed comfortable chair in the chamber, eyes open and unblinking, his expression serene. He had not moved from this spot in over twenty-five thousand years. His eyes were focused continuously upon the Grandfather Clock. One day, and without fanfare, the clock marked the time as being one million years to the second since he had first set foot into the chamber. From behind him there came the sound of a click. A panel had opened up in one of the walls. Calmly The Being got up and walked through the panel without a second glance at his home, made his way up some narrow stone steps, opened a door and stepped out into the sunlight of Earth. Professor Harley Huxtable awoke and stretched in his time capsule. The past million years had seemed like one long good nights sleep to him. The capsule had made it so. He pressed a button and the door opened into a large underground cave where he had concealed himself upon the completion of his invention. He too climbed some narrow stone steps and blinked in the sunlight of the future Earth. I have been expecting you, said a voice. Harley turned around to face The Being. Benjamin! Exclaimed the professor in delight. You have made it! My finest creation! Dare I ask you how our experiment has gone? It has gone exactly as you planned it, replied The Being sanguinely. You asked me to become the perfect human and I have become it. There is no greater human than I upon this universe. Then you have become a God! Exclaimed the professor. And I, the creator of a God as well! So do they bow down to you then, Benjamin, these future humans of Earth? The Being shook his head. I am afraid these newer humans learned a little too well, he replied. They made themselves as close as they could to the perfection you sought for them. They eliminated disease and old age until they lived for thousands of years and were afterwards sick of life. But in the end it was by my own innate imperfection that I made them truly perfect for is it also not true, professor, that death is something else that cannot be improved upon? The professors eyes widened. What do you mean? He demanded. How well they protected themselves and eradicated our old diseases, replied the Being. Every single malignant germ upon the planet come to that. But when I came into contact with them, with all the primitive old world bacteria still infesting around my backwards body, their fragile immune systems were too weak to cope. The professors face contorted with horror. You dont mean -. I am afraid so, professor, replied The Being. They are all dead of a fever which we would barely even feel. So you see, I shall truly be the perfect being, because I shall be the only being left alive the length of this entire universe aside from yourself, and I am afraid you are no longer worthy of me, Professor. You were right. I did indeed become the ultimate life form and I did learn what it would take to rule over the earth in harmony. Intelligent life, you see, is a completely unnecessary element in the equation. As soon as I was able to eliminate humankind in the God Simulator everything else fell into place. But this is not advancement! Exclaimed the professor in anguish. Perhaps it is not advancement as you would recognise it, replied the Being. But now humankind has gone all other elements of the universe can expand and grow like never before. But what of our great discoveries and wonders? Protested Harley Huxtable. What discoveries? What wonders? Demanded the Being. Do you think that humankind discovered gravity, or the planets? Do you think that we discovered all the elements of the periodic table? Why all of these things were already out there and just waiting to be found. The so called inventions created by humankind were worthless and self-serving. They did not advance the

universe, they did not improve it why the universe as a creation is perfect, Professor. None of what humankind ever did meant a thing. The professor threw up his hands. Oh what a terrible miscalculation I have made! He exclaimed. I should have thought you would have been beyond the stage of madness by now. I should have left you in there for two million years as opposed to one! Then perhaps your mind would have been a great one and not one that was insane! I do not blame you for thinking that, replied The Being with a smile. Because you do not understand what I am saying. Your mind simply cannot comprehend the enormity of what I am telling you. Of course you think me mad. Harley Huxtable turned around, as if in a daze. He left The Being and climbed the mountain that had for so long housed his great chamber. When he reached the top he looked over and saw the shattered remains of the glass cities that had crashed to earth, still burning and smouldering, for there was nobody left to pilot them. He saw the twisted wreckage of star-ships and the largeskulled skeletons of the most advanced race of humans, trillions of people decimated to a man. Harley Huxtable climbed back down the mountain and returned to where The Being was still standing. What a mess you have made of it all, he said in disgust. I should never have selected you for this experiment for I knew from the outset you were unstable. Very well! I am responsible for this mess and so now it is for me to put it all right again. For now the world is yours, Benjamin Rutherford. For now. He turned and started to make his way down the stone steps that led back to the chamber. I shall see you in a million years.