by Steve LeBel
The young man, without looking up, pointed at the small numbers in brass on the outside of the cubicle. Bernie noticed the number forty-two. Everyone watching him earlier was now too busy with their own work to respond to his attempts to say hello. He walked down the row of cubicles in the direction of descending numbers until he reached seventeen.
Inside the cubicle, he found two thick manuals and a beautiful set of builder equipment and supplies neatly stacked on the floor next to his desk. A rolling chair with an adjustable tilt sat waiting for him. Bernie walked into the cubicle and sat down. He tingled with excitement. His cloud, terrified just minutes earlier, was now patting him on the back. He closed his eyes and breathed in the satisfaction of having reached what had once looked like an impossible goal.
Life is good, he thought. No, life is great!
Billy Bully
Just a year ago, he had been a new graduate from The School, standing in line hoping for a job with The Business. Well, there was no doubt he would be hired. He had good grades, and his family tree was full of builders.
In the last year, a lot of things had changed. Billy hadn’t changed, but he sure changed things around him. The division was a good example. When he first arrived, he was just the ‘new kid’. Unfortunately for some of them, they hadn’t treated him with the respect he deserved. But they learned. They’d had no choice.
On the first day of each week, Billy made a point of arriving a little early and walking around the maze of cubicles that made up the Final Assembly Division. He paused in front of empty cubicle number eighty-four. He smiled. Poor Stacey. You were the first to feel my wrath. Would it have been so hard for you to accept my invitation to lunch? Well, you gave me an opportunity to teach an important lesson to your co-workers, although I’m afraid it was too late for you. From a nearby cubicle, a god witnessed Billy’s smile as he paused before the empty cubicle. The god shuddered and quickly looked away, lest Billy notice him.
As if taking a regal stroll around his kingdom, Billy sauntered up one aisle and down another, pausing in front of several more empty cubicles. And, you, Jason. I heard you now have a job stocking shelves in a grocery store. You should have shown me proper respect. You might still be working here. Billy smiled, recalling how Jason had approached him on the street and begged for his job back. Billy had laughed in his face.
The first few victims had been for the sake of example, really. It was necessary to get their attention and make them understand who he was. The strategy was similar to what he did on Klash: size up the battlefield and then, without mercy, destroy any who dared to oppose you. There was only one difference here: he couldn’t kill his enemies. He had to content himself with getting them fired. It was better in some ways—a god’s pain would last for an eternity. A Klashian’s pain lasted for only an instant.
Naturally, there had been the predictable counterthrust when some had tried to resist what he was doing. They were the most fun really, because they knew what he was doing, had made a conscious decision to oppose him, yet they were powerless to stop him. Billy took more pride in their termination than in the others. In just six months, the battle had been won. No one remaining dared to oppose him. These were smart people. They saw his power. They knew what he could do.
They learned that if they wanted to keep their jobs, they did whatever it took to stay on Billy’s good side. A simple rule, really. Anyone should be able to understand it.
* * *
The door to Final Assembly opened. The personnel director, Ezrah, entered, followed by a young god. Billy couldn’t believe it. He hadn’t seen him for two years. Could it be Bernie was going to be working in this division? Billy smiled his first genuine smile in days. This was the perfect opportunity to settle old scores.
While Bernie met with Shemal, Billy thought back to all the times Bernie had wronged him. It was a very long list. Billy and his posse had been the most-respected and envied guys at school. They’d been the cool kids with the best clothes and special tutors—all from good homes where both their moms and their dads were builders. All the girls liked to hang out with them.
Well, that wasn’t quite true. Suzie didn’t, and that was another thing going on Bernie’s list. Billy knew she would have been another of his groupies, but for some reason, she followed Bernie around like a love-struck puppy. Billy had tried on numerous occasions to show her how unworthy Bernie was, but it just made her like him more. Bernie is a nothing, he thought. He lived in one of the project homes the Town Council built for the poor people out in Section Five. They weren’t even like real homes. They were even smaller on the inside than they were on the outside. It would be like living in a shoebox. His mom didn’t even have a real job; it wasn’t like she was a builder or anything. Okay, Bernie’s father was a hot-shot builder, but he’d had the good sense to dump them both years ago.
Their feud lasted for years. Bernie deserved it. Everybody treated him differently because his dad was the ‘Great Simeon’. So what? Somebody had to show them Bernie was nothing but a dumb geek in secondhand clothes. He always had his head in the clouds; if I hadn’t poked him from time to time, he would have walked into walls.
Usually Ber-Nerd would just take his lumps and go away. Things had changed when Suzie came along. Old Bernie had this little audience of one so he felt the need to stick up for her. At least that was Bernie’s excuse for the fight.
Billy seethed as he remembered what Bernie had done. Nothing could ever excuse it. He turned me into a monster. Whenever someone looks at me, I see their shimmer flicker as if they’re about to faint. Everyone gets the same sick feeling. And who wouldn’t? The horrible scar that ran half the length of his face reminded everyone of their own mortality. The healers said there was nothing they could do about it. But it was the first thing people saw; it was how they remembered him. They think this is the greatest injury they can imagine, but it’s not. The greatest injury is what I’m going to do to Bernie. And even then, it won’t be enough.
Over the years, he had tormented Bernie at every opportunity. By the last year, everyone avoided Bernie. If they didn’t, then one of his buddies, RedDog or Butcher, would have a little talk with them about the danger of hanging out with social misfits.
But Bernie couldn’t leave well enough alone. He started fighting back. Without warning, Billy’s class schedule was changed, and they weren’t in the same classes anymore. A few more changes, and soon, they didn’t have classes anywhere near each other; Billy was reassigned to the toughest teachers who gave the most homework. He had been forced to run from one class to another to make it on time. He could never prove it, but he knew it was Bernie’s doing. Everyone knew Bernie was a geek. He probably hacked into the school’s computers. Or maybe he used something from that Off World Technology group he was in.
One day, Billy caught up with him after school. When he confronted Bernie, all he would say was ‘Really? You don’t say.’ or ‘And you think I did this?’ and other such nonsense. Everyone knew he did it. And for proof, the next day Billy’s classes were changed again. This time, his last class didn’t end until thirty minutes after Bernie had left for the day. Billy was going to nail Bernie before school the next day, but he never did. He was afraid his schedule would get changed again, making him come in earlier so they would never see each other. The other kids were laughing behind his back. It was all Bernie’s fault.
As Billy pondered the best course of action, a frown darkened his features. Billy’s frown was strangely similar to the scowl on Shemal’s face only a few minutes earlier.
Billy knew he could get everyone to shun Bernie, but the way his Uncle Shemal ruled this division, Bernie might not even notice people weren’t talking to him. No, he needed a much better punishment. He needed full-strength Righteous Retribution. Bernie needed to go. Bernie needed to be fired. And to sweeten his revenge, Billy would tell his coworkers he was going to do it. They would watch it happen. It would be a great double lesson: punishment for Bernie for his cri
mes, and a not-so-subtle reminder of how important it was to respect Billy.
Out of the corner of his eye, Billy saw a tall figure walk by and go into the cubicle next to his. He heard someone sit in the chair. He waited thirty seconds for Bernie to settle back and relax. Timing was everything. Billy stood up, looked over the cubicle wall, and waited for Bernie to notice him. As Bernie turned toward him, Billy smiled as Bernie’s face registered the shock of seeing his school foe.
And, because quiet is more powerful than loud, Billy slowly whispered the words, “Hello, Ber-Nerd. I haven’t forgotten that I still owe you.” Then, before Bernie could do or say anything, Billy lowered himself back into his cubicle, smiling with satisfaction.
This is going to be fun, thought Billy.
Bernie’s Journal
Journal Entry
I never thought I would make another journal entry after I finished school. But Mom’s still working, and I just have to tell someone about my awesome day.
I spent time with the personnel director, Ezrah. He’s a really cool guy. He took a lot of time with me and made sure I understood everything.
Ezrah gave me the most incredible assignment. I get to build my own universe. I can make anything I want. I even get whatever supplies I need. No one will tell me what to do. I can do anything. This is so exciting! My biggest problem will be trying to figure out what to do.
When we were done, Ezrah took me to meet my new boss.
Shemal seems like a good guy. I mean, he sounds kind of strict—he scared my cloud—but I’m sure he’s fair, and everyone does a good job because of it.
I wonder what Dad’s first day was like. I read in his book that he started in the Custom Planets Division. I wonder if he was nervous on his first day. Probably not.
I saw Suzie in the personnel department. I was so excited I forgot she would be there. When I saw her, my cloud grabbed my shirt and started pulling me toward her. Every time I’m near her, that stupid cloud goes crazy. It’s always doing something to embarrass me, especially around her. When I finally got it under control, I tried to get her attention but she wouldn’t look at me. I hope I didn’t hurt her feelings. It’s frustrating.
One bad thing happened. After two years of not seeing him, I bumped into Billy again. He works in the cubicle right next to mine. He said he still owes me. I can’t imagine he’s still carrying a grudge after all this time.
I’m sure we can work it out.
The Manuals
Bernie’s brain reeled. He’d finished reading the big thick manuals Shemal had given him. His universe would have to wait. Learning the employment rules was a priority; he didn’t want to make any mistakes.
It took three days to read them all. Fortunately, he found the bathroom rules early on the first day. He was relieved to find he could go whenever he needed to, although excessive time spent in the bathroom could be a rule violation. He didn’t discover the section about lunch breaks until late the third day, so he missed three meals. Bernie couldn’t find anything about whether people from Personnel and people from the building divisions ate at the same time, but he hoped he could see Suzie there. He found a section about a water cooler, but in spite of a full trip around the office, he couldn’t find one, although he did see a place where it might have been once.
There were so many rules. Many of them contradicted each other. In school, they said there are only two kinds of rules: hard rules and soft rules. Hard rules are clear-cut and never contradict each other. All the students learned to pay attention to hard rules because if they didn’t, their universes wouldn’t work right.
On the other hand, soft rules were different and confusing. The most confusing soft rules were in psychology and sociology where there didn’t seem to be any hard rules at all. Well, there might be a few, but sooner or later someone would figure out a way to break them just to show they could. The School Board got tired of rewriting textbooks, so they added a paragraph saying any hard rule, under certain circumstances, could become a soft rule. And, just to cover all their bases, they added ‘and vice versa’. That cut down on the rewrites.
The Business’ manuals were full of soft rules disguised to sound like hard rules. For example, if you stole something from The Business, then you would be fired. But if you stole something and nobody caught you, then would you still get fired? If you weren’t, then this was really a soft rule. And, making it more confusing, none of it was prioritized. If two rules conflict, which one do you obey? Bernie wanted to obey all the rules, but it made his movements jerky. Every time he started to do something, he stopped while he did a mental text search for any rule he might be breaking.
For some rules, Bernie needed to ask someone. He tried asking people in the other cubicles, but they wouldn’t talk with him. At best, they answered him with a head nod or a head shake, usually followed by a shooing-away motion with their hands. When he asked someone if he should ask Shemal instead, she winced, shook her head no, and shooed him away. So Bernie stopped asking.
If he could find Suzie, maybe she could answer his questions.
Staring into the Abyss
Finally, Bernie was ready. The manuals read. The rules sorta understood. Potty time, lunchtime, and quitting time all clear. At last, his universe awaited.
Bernie cleared his desk of everything except the desk easel. He selected a large viewing window from his supplies and set it in the easel. Then he opened a jar of Universe Putty and placed it on the desk. He was ready.
Bernie began the process he’d done so often in school. He reached out with his hands and his mind in the way only a god could do, searching through the emptiness. Countless dimensions surrounded The World, each of them an empty void waiting to be captured and bent to the will of the gods. Capturing such voids from the infinite number of dimensions was like grabbing a slippery fish in a tank of slippery fish in a dark room. Finally, Bernie had one in his grip. He kept his concentration as he guided the void to the edge of the viewing window. Holding it with one hand, he used his other to scoop a dab of universe putty with which he bound the void to his window frame. He continued around the edge of the frame until he’d securely attached his void.
While the putty dried, Bernie moved into his new universe. He’d never found a dimension with anything in it, but his teachers said it was prudent to check carefully. He was pleased to see the dimension was a flawless void, extending forever in every direction. This is perfect, he thought.
Bernie settled back to consider his next move. Completely unbidden, he heard the voice of his favorite teacher, Beatrice, urging him to Plan First, Then Create. He wrote these words on a little sticky and mounted it on the frosted glass window in front of him. Then he got out a pencil and paper to make his notes.
And that’s as far as he got. Hours later, the void was as voidy as ever. No suns. No planets. No inspiration. A plain and simple case of creator’s block.
The problem, he decided, was too much freedom. Bernie had so many possibilities he didn’t know where to start. He’d never had freedom like this in school. No one did. No teacher ever in the history of The World ever told a student to create whatever he wanted.
In school, everything had been done inside a little box. Well, not a box exactly, although a god might think of it that way. For example, if the assignment was to ‘create moons on at least four of the five planets in a solar system,’ then they gave the students a solar system with the planets already made. They only had to worry about the moons. The planets, where to put them, how fast they moved around the sun, how big they were, or whether they should have atmospheres, were already done for you.
The gods called this modular creation. The goal was to teach one thing at a time. The division where Bernie worked was the one that supplied standardized universe kits to The School. Their job was creating identical universes so each student could focus on learning just one or two tasks. When the class ended, the universes were blinked out and re-voided.
Meanwhile, Bernie, frustrated
with his inability to come up with design ideas, began wondering why they were subjecting him to this. After all, who needed to build whole universes by themselves, anyway? Only people who wanted to win awards and stuff. And maybe a few builders in the Research and Development Division. And maybe the Maintenance Division had to know their way around. But other builders, who worked in divisions like this, specialized. Specializing began to sound like a good thing to Bernie. Life would be simpler if you only had to worry about one or two things at a time, like back in school.
He wondered if his father had this problem. It’s possible, he thought. Mom said she helped Dad with lots of ideas for his universes.
In a flash of inspiration, Bernie turned to his building supplies. Searching quickly through the boxes, his expression turned to disappointment when he failed to find what he’d hoped for. There were no pre-built suns, no pre-fab planets, no life-in-a-jar. No kits of any kind. So much for that idea. They apparently wanted him to build everything from scratch.
The problem was, if he couldn’t come up with ideas for his universe, he certainly wasn’t going to make it through his probationary period.
Lunch with Lenny
By lunchtime, not much had changed. The void on Bernie’s desk still taunted him. The universe supplies still sat on the floor. And that darn pad of paper remained blank as it waited for a plan. Any plan. Bernie had heard of gods who could build a whole universe in just six days and be home resting on the seventh. Of course, they probably didn’t have to spend the first three days reading manuals.
