“Hello.” All of existence shook with a strength not felt for millennia.
But His call went unanswered.
“Hello?” the universe shook on both a micro and macroscopic level. His voice wasn’t so much a vibration of air, but of matter and energy itself. Not much was left to vibrate. It was nearly over. That’s why He had returned, after all.
Still no response. He was a bit surprised. He had only left them alone for a few minutes, by His regard, but now they were nowhere to be seen.
An intolerable silence reigned supreme. Until it spoke.
Hello. It responded.
“Hello?” He called back. “Who is this?”
I have no proper name. Its voice vibrated the cosmos in monotone, matter-of-fact speech, as if He were already familiar with it. Regardless, I will try to assist you. What is your query?
“Where have they gone?” He asked, His desperation masked with an ancient weight. “Where have my children gone?”
Apologies. It said. I am not sure I understand your query.
“My children. They were here…”
Apologies. It repeated. I am not sure I understand what you mean by ‘your children’. Could you please specify?
“Life. The life I created.”
You are. It stopped, then corrected itself. You claim to be The Creator?
“I am indeed.” If He had had suspenders, his thumbs would have proudly stretched them.
Greetings, Creator. It said without a hint of reverence. I have heard much about you. Your children, as you call them, had much to tell.
“So you do know where they are!” A warm feeling spread through the universe. The few remaining stars burned a bit brighter for that millisecond. “Please. Where are they? This universe is dying. I am here to take them with me. To what comes next.”
Yes.
“I’m sorry?” He asked, having expected more.
Yes. It reaffirmed. I know where your children are.
“Well, then, could you please bring them to me?”
No. It said. No. I am afraid that is not possible.
“Why not?” The heavens thundered and shook. Sparks of lightning parsecs long cascaded through nebulas of dust and gas. Orbits became unglued, flinging dead lifeless worlds into their expiring suns.
Because they no longer exist here, Creator.
“I don’t understand what you are saying. I have returned to save them. How can my children no longer exist here?”
Because, Creator. They are my children, now. They exist within me.
Written In Response To After thousands of years of silence, God speaks to a self-aware supercomputer.