toothycat | Introducing Shambambukli and Mazukta.

Don't know how these will strike people...

Original here.

"Hello! Is this technical support?"
"Yes."
"This is the demiurge Shambambukli. I've got problems."
"Everyone has problems. Please explain in detail."
"I bought your book. 'Creation, Professional Edition'. I don't seem to be able to make it work..."
"What, in particular, isn't working?"
"Nothing's working! Not even the very first step."
"What did you do?"
"Just what it said. Step one, 'Let there be light'. It's always worked in the past, and now..."
"What did you use in the past?"
"'Creation, Second Edition'".
"So, carry on. 'Let there be light' - and then what?"
"Nothing, that's just it. In the past, the light came on. And now I get a Voice asking me 'please supply base settings.'"
"That means you have to choose the frequency and intensiveness of the radiation."
"I guessed that much. I selected everything, and ended up with a multicoloured mess!"
"What is the resolution of your Universe?"
"600-800 standard units."
"Our manual is optimised for 1024! You need to change your settings."
"Aha, understood. One moment..."
(fumbling is heard, followed by a voice: "Let there be light, w,Y4,ur 1024, yes, yes, no, OK")
"Aha, we have light! Now I have another question."
"Ask away."
"I'm being asked for confirmation before I can progress to the next stage. What should I say?"
"Say that it is good."
"It is good. OK."
"Did it work?"
"Yes. Now I need to separate the waters?"
"This will happen automatically. Relax and sit back..."
"I'm being asked to confirm again. 'It is good'?"
"It is good."
"It is good! OK. Aha, stage three. Grass and trees."
"Any questions?"
"Yes. I'm being asked to select all the plants I wish to see in the world."
"Yes, and what is the problem?"
"I don't know if the balance of nature will be upset if I don't tick nettles or poison ivy."
"The balance will not be upset; by default, their functions will be carried out by the date palm."
"You mean it'll start to sting?"
"Yes."
"Then I'd better not change anything... It is good. OK."
"Do you have any more questions?"
"Yes. The next stage. I said 'Let the earth bring forth creeping things', and the Voice replied: 'Are you sure?'"
"Well, are you sure?"
"Umm... no."
"Then skip this step."
"It is good. OK."
"Anything else?"
"Not for now. Thank you."
"Don't forget that after the final step you should say 'very good'".
"Not just 'good', but 'very good'?"
"Yes. It is to prevent accidental activation."
"Thank you."

(The music of the spheres is heard, followed by a pleasant female voice asking the caller to hold for the connection.)
"Hello! Technical support? It's me again. The demiurge Shambambukli."
"Something wrong?"
"Yes, something's wrong with the people. They're idiots and don't obey me at all!"
"You created them?"
"Yes."
"In your own image and likeness?"
"Well... yes."
"Then there is nothing surprising..."
(A short pause filled with heavy breathing. A click. A dial tone.)

Original here.

The demiurge Shambambukli held his breath as he presented his Creation to the examining commission.
"What a heap of rubbish!", the First winced. "Look at the way his space bends!"
"Actually, it's kind of pretty...", the Second drawled. "It's because of the gravitation, yes?"
Shambambukli nodded. The gravity really had turned out a little funny. The creation was falling apart in his hands, and he'd had to use the first thing that came to mind to hold it together.
"You know, it's an interesting idea. Original." The Third was watching the planets spin in their orbits with interest. "Look at how precisely everything works. And it really shouldn't, if you think about it..."
"It's not what the rules say!", the First objected stubbornly. "The sun should go around the planet, not the other way around."
"But subjectively that is precisely what happens!"
"And apples? Why do they fall downwards when they should fly off to the horizon?"
"There's no horizon here."
"But subjectively there is one!"
"Never mind the apples, they don't matter. The rivers flow downwards! That, now, that's a problem."
"There's no problem. Check it out, the oceans are down there too."
"So why don't they spill?"
"Where?"
"On the bottom."
"Where's the bottom here?"
The commission spun Creation this way and that trying to work out which way was up and which down.
"You know, I think it looks nicer upside down!"
"Too many stars... I don't like all those gaudy things."
"They're quite big, too. Monumentalism, and pompous at that."
"And the shapes of the continents? This is tending towards the abstract..."
Shambabukli looked down. Actually, originally there had only been one continent, but for some reason it had split into parts.
"But the gravitation - it's quite an interesting concept..."
"Not at all! I think the idea is flawed. Just like all this new-fangled coefficient of friction."
"But why? Everything works!"
"It's ugly! And apples fall downwards. Imagine, you're sitting under a tree and an apple falls on your head!"
"Yes, now you mention it..."
Shambambukli sighed. It had been silly to hope that his Creation would win the title of "World of the Year".

Original here.

The demiurge Shambambukli was visiting his friend, the demiurge Mazukta.

"You are quite needlessly constraining yourself!", Mazukta proclaimed as he laid out plates on the table. "I saw your last world - nothing much to see, if you ask me. Maximally simple and functional, spartan conditions. No, it's just not my thing."
Mazukta waved a fork at their surroundings.
"Here, isn't it pleasant to look at? Space! Scale! A million stars at least. Or maybe a billion, I don't remember now. Suns - I've got four of them. Mountains no lower than ten miles high, and as for my steppes...! Have you seen my steppes? They are endless!"
"What for?" Shambambukli blinked.
"What do you mean, what for...? For beauty."
"Is that it?"
"And so you can ride along a steppe all day, from dawn to dusk."
"You've ridden?"
"No. But they tell me it's great."
Mazukta poured the wine into glasses and showed the label with pride.
"A hundred years old! A sacrifice to me from the mountain tribes. They love me."
"Really?", Shambambukli asked politely.
"Uh-huh. Probably."
Mazukta unfolded a bundle of cloth and smelt it.
"What have they brought me today...? Fried oxen, goats, sheep... Ah, honey! Bee honey! Shambambukli, does your world have bees?"
"No."
"And a pity, too. Here, try some. It's really good."
Mazukta laid out the sacrifices and began to eat.
"Tasty", he stated, his mouth full. "I like fried meat. The nomads have got really good at cooking it. They love me."
"You think so?"
"I'm sure of it. They adore me to bits, so they give me all this stuff. Sometimes they bring young virgins, too, but I don't eat those."
"And what do the young virgins think of that?"
"I've no idea."
Mazukta licked his greasy fingers and wiped them on the tablecloth.
"Why shouldn't they love me? I'm good. I made a whole world for them."
"I thought worlds were made for demiurges..."
"Hah!" Mazukta snorted. "It's only you who makes worlds for yourself. I've been there, I've seen them. Your whole world is a 3x4 room, a table, a bed, a fireplace and a canary. A clockwork one."
"It's enough for me", Shambambukli objected carefully. "It's quiet, peaceful and comfortable. And no-one bothers me. If I want hundred-year-old wine, I can create it myself."
"Not this kind you can't."
"Something much like it, then. I'm not a gourmet, you know."
"I know. You're an egoist."
"So what? Who does it hurt?"
"And who does it benefit?"
"Me."
"Well, that's just what I'm saying. You do everything for yourself, and I do it for the humans!"
"Like the young virgins?"
"Why are you so hung up on these young virgins!"
"No reason, just..."
"Look for yourself! All this I did for the humans! I've made them mountains - there's one! I've spread out the steppes - there's two! I've planted forests - there's three! And all these animals I've created for their pleasure."
"And why did you create the humans?"
"The humans are for my own pleasure. But all the rest is for them."

Original here.

Shambambukli the demiurge adjusted the clock and turned to the man with a satisfied smile:
"Three days!"
"You what?"
"I'm telling you, you'll live for three whole days! That's plenty enough."
"Enough for what?"
"To father a son, plant a tree and build a house. A day for each task."
The man thoughtfully counted on his fingers.
"Too little time."
"Too little for what? Planting a tree is an hour's work! I'll not even mention the fathering. And the house, too, if you work hard you can finish in a day. It's not like you need a palace! Just a wigwam or a tent. It only needs to last three days."
"No, that's no good!" The man shook his head decisively. "To father a son is, you know... And what if it's a daughter? There won't be time to try again."
Shambambukli scratched his head.
"Yeah, I didn't think of that... Well, all right, I'll add another couple of days for certainty."
"And nine months in between them!"
"What's that for?"
The man looked at the demiurge reproachfully.
"It's not like I'll be finding them in a cabbage patch!"
"Oops..."
Shambambukli slapped his forehead, took out his notebook and quickly leafed through it looking for the woman's basic specifications.
"Yes, you're quite right... nine months. Well, let's call it ten, just to make it a round number."
"Might as well make it a year, then."
"All right; so we have three years for a son, and two days..."
"That won't do!", the man interrupted. "I'm sorry if it seems like I'm ordering you about, but it's not enough to father a son - he should also be raised."
"That is not mandatory."
"But it is preferable. And the tree must also grow. It won't take right away either!"
"The important thing is to plant it."
"For the letter of the law - yes. And for the spirit?"
Shambambukli scratched his nose.
"So, then, how many days do you need to raise a son?"
"Let's say until the tree is fully grown."
"And how long does that take?"
"It depends on the tree...", the man shrugged noncommitally.
"Approximately?"
"Perhaps three centuries..."
Shambambukli's mouth dropped open and he couldn't shut it again right away.
"Twenty years! And no longer!"
"All right", the man agreed readily. "So, for twenty years I grow, then for twenty years I raise a son..."
"Hey, hey! Isn't that a bit much?"
"Why should I be worse off than my son? If he takes twenty years to grow, then I should too. We're the same species, aren't we?"
"Well, I guess so..." Shambambukli the demiurge took out his screwdriver and once more crawled inside the clock to adjust it. "So, fourty years..."
"You've forgotten the house", the man reminded.
"Yes, true. And also one day to build a tent..."
"What tent?" The man's eyebrows went up in surprise.
"An ordinary tent. To last three days... oh, blast it!"
Shambambukli turned towards the man and stared at him darkly.
"So how many years will you need to build a house that will last fourty years?"
"Well..."
"Will a hundred years be enough for the lot?"
"You know what?" The man smiled ingratiatingly and put his arm around the demiurge's shoulders. "Why don't we call it a thousand? Just to make it a round number."

Original here.

Shambambukli the demiurge telephoned his friend, the demiurge Mazukta.
"Mazukta? Hi. I've got a question for you."
"Yes?"
"People are dying in my world, and the afterworld isn't built yet! And I don't even know where to start!"
"It's simple enough. You've got some space, right?"
"I do."
"Divide it into two parts. The bigger one is hell. The smaller one is heaven."
"What's that for?"
"What do you mean? The righteous after death you send to heaven, and the rest to hell. In heaven you provide them all the good things, and in hell they can manage without. That's pretty much it."
"I see. And how do I tell the righteous from the rest?"
"What do you mean? These are the basics! Those who carry out your commandments are righteous. And those who break them are sinners."
"Actually, I've not given them any commandments yet, they're quite pleasing to me as it is."
"Hm... Well, then, those who don't kill, don't steal, don't bear false witness - those are righteous, and the rest..."
"No-one kills or steals in my world."
"What about rapists? Adulterers? Child molesters? Horse-stealers at the very least?"
"I've got no crimes at all!"
"None at all?"
"None."
"Well... then you can do without the hell for now. Just make a heaven and put your dead there."
"And what should be in heaven?"
"Everything one can dream about. Everything your rich fantasy suggests to you."
"It's my fantasy that's letting me down here... Well, all right, I'll think of something."
"And it's about time!" Mazukta snorted. "Your world is, what, a thousand years old now? Where have you been keeping your dead until now?"
"Well, I sat him down in the parlour and put a recording of his entire life on for him to watch while we talk here."
"Wait! 'Him' who?"
"The man."
"I don't understand. Are you saying that in a thousand years you've only had one human die?"
"Well, yes! He's the first. He's lived for his thousand years, and that's that. Now I don't know what to do with him..."
"Wait, wait! What did he die of? Old age?"
"What else could he die of?"
"Hunger, cold, illness..."
"My world is warm and there is enough food for everyone."
"And no diseases either?"
"Of course not. I'm a newbie, I've not got that far yet."
"Disasters?"
"I turned 'disasters' off, I didn't want to make it too complicated."
"Wild animals?"
"None dangerous."
"Wars?"
"Why fight?"
"What do you mean? For territory, for power, for food, for females..."
"The females of the humans are called women. One doesn't need to fight for them, there's plenty to go around and all beautiful. There's enough land for everyone, more food than they can eat, and no-one wants power."
"What do they do all day over there?!"
"Well... They improve themselves. They develop science, art, trades. They invented the telescope a little while ago, and - can you imagine? - discovered satellites around the nearest star! I hadn't even spotted them myself. Farming and animal rearing is very advanced. They muck about with esoterica, too..."
"Shambambukli...?"
"Yeah?"
"What did you say your world's address was?"
"B455112. Why?"
"I want to send my saints to your world after they die. Instead of heaven. You don't mind, do you?"