Everything. I could see everything. I felt like

everything; I was part of everything. For the first

time in my life, I belonged. Heights didn’t scare me

anymore, in fact they were blissful and warming. The lift

to God’s spire carried me higher and higher, and with each

second I went higher, I felt more elated inside. Everything was

beautiful. This world was perfect.

        When the elevator doors split, I stepped dreamily

forward past one of the stoic stewards and into God’s amazing

glass perch over the Earth. This room was so amazing. It was

truly, truly incredible.

      I sat at the end of the table, as before, but I was drained

of all spite and malicious intent. All I could do was look about,

out into the world so painstakingly well-crafted.

      “Hooke,” thundered God with inexplicable stress,

“Explain yourself!”

      “I’m looking out at this magnificent world,” my answer

came easily, happily, “this enthralling creation of yours. It’s

flawless. Exquisite.”

        “Hooke,” God called across the table, voice raising.

I didn’t answer him. Something within me was so lost

in the moment as I was connected to the entirety of existence.

“Hooke!” he bellowed, “Hooke 5-302!”

       “That’s me,” my head turned to him without concern,

“yes.”

       “Hooke! Something is wrong with you.”

       “No. I am right,” my gaze drifted out across the world

again.

       “Hooke!” he continued to punctuate with worry and

anger in his voice, “Look at me, Hooke!”

      I looked at him curiously.

       “Hooke!” the old man emphasized, “Something is

wrong!”

       “No,” I languorously replied, “Not that I know.”

       “Look at me!”

       He kept my attention from wandering.

       “Hooke! Your eyes,” God declared, “They aren’t red!”

        “I haven’t noticed,” my disinterested answer came.

        He walked over and spoke directly to me.

        “They aren’t red! Explain what you have done!”

        “Nothing. I haven’t done anything.”

        “I know that! ... Hooke!! I demand an explanation!”

        “Explain what I must tell you.”

        “Tell me why you haven’t been working!”

        “I have been working. Working all the time. I replace

lights. I correct lighting problems. I do it every day you bring

to the world.”

        “Hooke! The m--,” he quickly halted.

        The old man jerked around, turning away.

        “Stewards!” he beckoned with fury, “Leave me!”

        All four guards turned uneasily to their master. All

four had arms folded across their chests in typical poses, but

their emotionless faces had questioning tenderness unusual to

the large and fiercely protective men.

        “Leeeeavveee!” God screamed, waving to them, “I will

call you if I need you up here! Leave me! Leave us!”

         The men were hesitant.

        “I said leave!” a final barking order came.

        The stewards slowly descended their spiral staircases in

the corners of the outer corridor around the glass room. They

were gone. God pushed a button and covers slid over the holes

leading downward to offices below his room.

         “Hooke!” God turned back to me, “Tell me your reason

for not maintaining the city. It has been a month! Your slate

has over a dozen assignments!”

         “This world is too perfect to murder,” I told him.

         “Hooke!! You are ill!”

          “No, I assure you, I am fine. I’ve pair-bonded.”

          “I know. That doesn’t have any bearing on what is

happening.”

          “But, I am happy now.”

          “The world is crumbling!”

          “No, it can’t be. You made the perfect world. It took

forever, but it works. It really does work, and it is perfect.

Look at me! I finally have found that world everyone lives

within and everyone feels. I don’t need anything else,” I

explained.

          “You were made to kill!” he retorted.

          “I might have been at one time, but I am not anymore.

I have no more light or dark. I don’t need to destroy or create

anymore. For the first time in my life I am at ease and living as

you intended.”

          “Hooke, I need you to kill!”

          “How? I can’t find any motive to do so. I just want to

be happy and be like everyone else.”

          “I need you! We need you!”

          “You could kill for me. You are God. God has

complete power. No one would care if you did wrong to make

the world right.”

         “They would be challenged. The world would crumble

from within them. Maybe one at first, then two or three. As

they talked, the idea would spread, soon the entire world would

be destroyed from doubt and mistrust.

          You must understand. You are everything important to

the wellbeing of my creation.”

          “You must find someone else. I am not useful for such

work anymore. I want to live in the dream they all live in.”

           “Hooke, I have killed to make up for your inability. I

called you here because I can’t do it. Sooner or later I will

be caught. If I am under suspicion, your happiness will be

destroyed with everyone else’s. Please!”

           Within me was no urgency or desire for anything other

than to be with Sharon again. She was all I lived for.

           “I can’t. I have no ability anymore,” I explained again,

“my darkness has left me. I am now happy within the perfect

mechanisms of your world, God. Thank you for this gift.”

           The old man sat down again. He was exacerbated from

the conversation, but it meant nothing to me.

           “Hooke, I would rather you do the wrong of killing and

creating because it is right,” God explained, “because you were

made and chosen to do so. You were a natural outcropping of

the programming.”

            “You could just stop birthing.”

           “I can’t. Human biology is somehow growing immune

to the chemicals I put into the water which cause infertility.”

           “You are God. You can do anything,” I simply said.

           In my heart I believed in him. He was infallible. On

his face was a look of defeat. He put a hand to his temples and

squeezed.

           “Hooke,” he began slowly, “you will reclaim your

intended duties or I will activate those pills and destroy you

before you ever leave this room.”

            “If that is your wish, you must do so. It is sad.

However, I’d rather die happy than live that life again. That

life was complete misery. I hated it. I hated myself.

          You made this world to bring peace to everyone. I

have found that happiness you made the world to provide to

humanity. If I can’t fit into your world, you must kill me.

There is no other way.”

           We sat silently for a while. He stared at me with a

helpless air of failure.

           Several minutes later I rose from my seat. Producing

the data slate with all the populace info and random choosing

program, I placed the device next to God as I walked around

the table.

         “This isn’t mine anymore,” my voice calmly stated,

“you must find another.”

         As I strode to the doorway I heard God announce,

         “You’ll die, Hooke!”

          I paused.

         “That’s OK,” I said plainly, “I am fine if you must kill

me. I’m fine. Tell Sharon 1-323 that I thank her for all the

time we shared in our bonding.”

         Another pause.

         I walked out of the glass chamber. I walked across the

glass hallway. Pushing the lift button, the doors slid open. I

entered. The doors closed.

          My last image of God was the back of his head as he

sagged in his chair.

          Nothing happened. The elevator descended. I went out

into the streets and milled among the many wonderful people

of the Earth again as I made my way home.

           Life was beautiful.