Many long years ago, thousands of them, you betcha, an Apprentice Overlord had decided to Rule The Universe.
Well, it wasn’t available.
Seems all of the Good Overlords, Bad Overlords, Mediocre Overlords, and Evil Overlords had divided up all of the universes millennia ago.
None were left for anyone to take over. Every thousand years, approximately, a computer they had built selected some of the universes, and changed management. While those Overlords selected by the computer complained about having to redecorate, the rest felt it was good/bad it wasn’t their turn, and took vacations.
So what was the Apprentice Overlord to do ? He pondered for many years, and decided to Ask for Directions.
Seems there was one opportunity left. Artificial Universes. Just send off 2 coins, any coins would do, and 5 boxtops from a breakfast cereal.
Get your ‘Make an artificial Universe Kit !’, said an advert in the back of ‘Overlords Magazine’.
So the would be Overlord sent off for the items. A millennia later, the kit arrived.
The kit consisted of; a pencil, paper, grid paper to draw maps on, and a small booklet of information.
The booklet was 23 mimeographed pages of badly typed text. Page 12 seemed to be missing.
He complained to an uncle, who took turns being a Good Overlord and a Mediocre Overlord.
The uncle took him to the Family Library. And showed him the same booklet. Evidently the Family Sideline was selling such kits from a mailbox on Pluto.
He then handed the Apprentice Overlord the Real Book on Artificial Universes. And told him, “Next time ask, after reading the book, for the use of the Artificial Universe Builder Machine.”
The Apprentice Overlord, after reading the 560 page Real Book on Artificial Universes, decided that the paper and pencil were much more useful at the task.
He worked at it for many years, then used the Artificial Universe Builder Machine.
It made one world, flat, parts of continents, lots of islands, weather.
No people. No mountains. No rivers. Then he noticed the settings for population, mountains, hills, rivers, ocean currents.
Just have to do it all by hand. So he did.
Well, by hand, by using the Artificial Universe Builder Machine and various settings, levers, and buttons, to add the missing stuff.
He kept mumbling parts of a magic world story; complete with dragons, orcs, humans; he was reading on the days he didn’t work on his Artificial Universe.
Then he discovered, with the world almost done, that the machine had a microphone and had taken his mumblings as directions.
He called it Crest of a Star.
Of course, this artificial pocket universe thinks it came into being when the following poem was read over the interstellar radio:
the poem: bass fiddle, galaxy, nebulae, piano
a treatise in space, time, music, infinity.
[ Copyright by me, 2015. All Rights Reserved. ]
As the spiral galaxy slowly turns,
out there in the Intergalactic Night,
a bass fiddle slowly plays,
one note at a time,
with many spaces in between,
nebulae thick with interstellar,
dust and gas,
form proto-systems,
out there,
in the Galactic Night.
Civilizations rise and flourish,
fall and fail,
across the Island Universe,
many of them call Home.
Comets blazing in the night,
some hitting planets,
some making like glorious sparklers,
in numerous solar nights.
Gas giant planets fuss and fume,
while smaller planets,
Pluto-like in their size,
get renamed and called minor,
while in some solar systems,
such places find their astronomers capable of naming,
all of them,
in their many thousands.
Starships move across the firmament,
slowly they go,
as cosmic speeds are counted,
unless you use the speed,
of one galactic turn,
on its gigantic axis.
Globular clusters,
hover above the Ecliptic,
glowing in the night,
some used as navigation aids,
and others see them as pretty.
A bass fiddle somewhere,
is slowly plucked,
string by string,
the quarks show charm,
both are claimed to be theories,
by some and fact by others.
Hydrogen abounds,
stupidity to,
the galaxy cares not,
as it spins on its axis,
in the Galactic Night,
other galaxies are globular,
some stretched by collisions of gravity,
and others are in some strange form,
varying by which direction they are observed from !
[ Shakyspear aside: all that dust, doncha know ? ]
A piano is slowly played,
note by note,
in some of the empty spaces,
in between bass fiddle notes,
plucked by some gigantic hands.
[ the galaxies abide ]
[ exit ]