Inside the Garden of Being, nested in the black hole at the centre of the Ulas Galaxy, from where no light can escape, the gods stood in a circle over their solar systems. These systems were far away across spacetime if one were to travel by light, but immediately below their gaze in the viewing pods, from where each god carefully cultivated a world with patience, ambition, and love.
Aeliana felt her cheeks blush and looked down as Lord Silvius listed all the problems with her overpopulated planet, Earth. This feedback session had escalated into a telling-off. The other young gods looked away, busy with their own planets, but she knew they were listening. It was when Lord Silvius said that Earth was in such a mess, he had a good mind to put her humans out of their misery, that she started to cry.
“At some point, it’s just cruel,” he said. “Your creations are a conundrum of cleverness without any wisdom. And those that are wise aren’t very clever. How long has this experiment been going on?” Of course, he knew the answer.
“Since human life began? Two hundred thousand revolutions.”
“And they’re still at war?”
With that, Destin sniggered.
“Destin,” Lord Silvius turned his attention. “I suggest you focus on your own life-forms. Have they figured out space travel yet?”
“No, Sir.”
“Well, Aeliana’s have. They’ve been to their moon.”
“But mine live in peace.”
Destin’s experiment probably wouldn’t win any prizes, but at least his inhabitants weren’t suffering. Aeliana longed to guide her humans – tell them about the game. But that was cheating. Sending enlightened souls back as helpers was frustrating because it took so many lifecycles for a soul to complete. She had designed Earthlings to thirst for knowledge. The inadvertent effect was their fear of the unknown. They divided into groups and spied on each other. They filled gaps in knowledge with false beliefs and started wars to prevent more war. Even the children suffered. She sniffled some more. The little ones were so cute.
“Peace won’t help when their sun dies, will it?” Lord Silvius was wiping the smirk off Destin’s face. “Peace isn’t going to take them to a neighbouring solar system. At least Aeliana’s have some chance at survival.”
Aeliana puffed out her chest and wiped her cheeks. My wonderful humans, she thought.
“They nearly have a cure for cancer,” she said.
“They’ve shown good tenacity there.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“But you still have a sustainability problem. And it’s going to get worse.”
She could hear concern beneath his irritation, and it alarmed her. She recalled the moment they had to terminate Gabin’s world. Gabin had believed that young souls with an appetite for glory would drive his planet forward to achieve long-distance space travel and win him the Grand Appointment. Instead, society never stabilised. War waged over resources until the cruelty got too much, and there was no hope of healing. The decision was made: an asteroid would be sent in. It would be quick. A few revolutions of its sun, and the rock would die. The souls would be redistributed among other worlds. No one wanted them so young. But Lord Silvius said souls grew with every life, so they would not behave the same way again. Anyway, souls had to be recycled. Even if they only learned one thing in each life, it was a waste not to reuse that knowledge. Aeliana realised in this moment: Lord Silvius feared having to make the same decision again.
Destin’s old souls would be accepting when their sun expanded towards them. Their solar system would perform the most spectacular death transformation. All the gods would gather around to watch and wonder at the profound, unspeakable beauty of the universe, speculating, as they did from time to time, whether there was any meaning to their existence. Destin would be given a new solar system and a fresh start, as had Gabin. His new world had just begun to stabilise, and he was putting together his human formula.
Aeliana looked on with envy – oh, to be at the start, with so much hope of creating life that could outlive its sun. Then she would be appointed Grand Leader of several solar systems, which would be populated with her prototype. Her dream was that humans from two of her solar systems would discover each other.
She came back to the concern surrounding her Lord and silently wished Gabin luck.
“Why don’t they see the warning signs?” he asked.
“They do, but they refuse to believe the data.”
“Have you sent back enlightened souls?”
“Of course. But they don’t listen.”
“I was a little harsh earlier. There’s still time, okay?”
“They are designed to value short-term gain,” Aeliana admitted the flaw. “It was beneficial for early survival, but now… If only I could tweak them,” she said in frustration.
“Tweak them?”
Giggling broke out among the circle.
“Aeliana, we are trying to create independent life. So that one day we might understand ourselves. If you need one formula for early development and another one for sustainability, that’s not independent, is it?”
“I just meant… if only I could show them their potential.”
“What happened when Dulcia revealed herself to her planet?”
Aeliana caught her breath. “They all died.”
“Why?”
“She told them everything. But knowing she was omnipresent became unbearable. Until they found a way to rebel – burning forests, destroying animal habitats. Many took their own lives… When the virus came… they blamed her.”
“These life-forms are not equipped to know, Aeliana. They are equipped to learn.”
The gods fell silent. The tragedy was Dulcia’s humans had been progressing. Without imagination, they simply lived in peace and gathered knowledge about their world. But they could not perceive what was possible. So Dulcia showed them. She was out of the game now for breaking the rules.
Aeliana shuddered every time she thought of Dulcia’s fate. Unlike their human experiments, the gods could never escape to a different plane of consciousness. Existing for eternity, having willed themselves into being, all they could do to exercise their minds was live through these creations. Over time, they had even begun to imitate them, adopting the vibrations of human form and physiological expression. Lord Silvius called it a curious circular development, as the Garden of Being blossomed into a human paradise, luscious with birth and decay.
Without the game, they could explore the universe for a while, but after that, there was no escaping the sameness. No one knew where Dulcia was. The elders believed she was responsible for sending bad souls into other worlds. She had taken some with her before she was exiled and could have hidden them in dark matter at the edge of their ghost sun.
Every time a soul manifested on Earth, trying to create division, Aeliana suspected Dulcia had sent one of her bitter children. Was she trying to tempt Aeliana to intervene to save her planet? If another god broke the rules, Dulcia wouldn’t be alone. But Lord Silvius was right. If Aeliana interfered now, they would always need her help. She might achieve her goal, but as a cheater, secretly nudging here and there. That was not her dream.
She thought of how vulnerable her humans were. But they also had vision.
“They need to act as if they are one,” she said out loud. “I keep hoping they will figure it out.”
A bell rang. Everyone interrupted their planet-tending to look around. A soul had become enlightened, escaping the cycle of life. But from which solar system? Aeliana squealed to see the orb of light rise from her pod, vibrating at the frequency of the Garden of Being.
“Welcome,” she spoke. “I am your God. You have completed your soul’s journey.” She could only imagine how the soul felt. “I am so proud of you!”
Everyone sent the soul love, and its presence grew.
“Come and see the universe,” Aeliana said. It was her favourite time. When she got to tour the stars and see through the eyes of a newly enlightened being, so full of pure energy, they were as one. They went to the viewing tower and looked down at the universe shimmering in holographic form.
“There is much work for you to save your planet, but for now, let us take in the majesty of our home. Where would you like to start?”