Smite Me, Oh Dark One

  ***

  Lux called another meeting. I would have tried to skip it, but I hadn’t looked at the universe for a little while, so I was surprised to see that the bird people weren’t flittering over the clouds today. Normally, there was a big flock of them wherever the sun is shining.

  “Where are all the bird-people?” I asked. The 11 Gods of Sucking Up to Lux stared at me in disbelief. I hadn’t waited for Lux to call the meeting to order. I should be ashamed of myself.

  Lux raised his hands in a very calming fashion, and said, “Indeed, this is the matter we must discuss. Thundorious, you have the floor.”

  Thundorious cleared his throat with a deafening boom. “My brothers,” he said, using a phrase that was practically punctuation for these idiots. “The bird-people were constructing a craft capable of super-atmospheric flight.”

  There was a collective gasp. “Good for them,” I said. There was a collective gasp.

  “Thus, I was compelled to smite them.”

  “You were what?!” I shouted.

  “Compelled to smite them.”

  “Because they tried to leave the atmosphere?”

  “Not even severely inclement weather could deter them.”

  “Then you know it was important to them! Do we create these sentient races only to crush them when they exercise their will? How many survived?”

  “None, Brother. It was a thorough smiting.”

  I stared down at the empty cities where the bird-people had lived. They had worked their way from roosts in the trees to mountain-top cities to floating fortresses in the clouds. The next step was obviously to colonize a moon, and even the ruin of their flying machine was very telling. The bird-people were, without a doubt, the most scientifically advanced culture on the planet. Thousands of years of progress and learning, and now…

  And now they were gone.

  “Why?” I asked. I couldn’t think of another word to add to that question.

  “If they had left the planet, they might have found us,” said Lux. “Brother Thundorious made the right decision. And it presents a serious issue. We must consider a failsafe in the event our sovereignty is questioned once more.”

  “This is insane,” I said. “We created sentient life, and this is how we treat them? Divine wrath if they fly too high? Fromdon, what about your coconuts? Would you smite them if they discovered a way to contact you?”

  “My coconuts would not dare!” Fromdon said with an indignant scowl. “All know that Fromdon is unknowable. Even the frog-people. They sing as much in the Hymn to Fromdon. It is a sin to brush against the mighty coconut shell of the sky.”

  “And Buti’col,” I said. “What about the humans?”

  She considered it. I’ll give her that much. “They would be dead anyway. If Man were to come face to face with me, then surely they would all become priests, and my divine love is so intense as to drive any man to celibacy. There would be no more babies after that, and no need to smite anyone.”

  Most logical thing she ever said.

  “What of the Dwarves, O’Plenty?”

  “The Dwarves run no risk of climbing too high, but should they dig too deep, then I am hammer and they are heated iron. I will forge them anew.”

  One last chance, and the odds were against me. “And you, Lux? You would kill your precious immortal Elves, with their lives of leisure and obsession with the stars?”

  Lux raised his arms. “The Elves, too, would be destroyed. We are in agreement, brothers.”

  “We are not,” I said.

  Lux sighed. “Then we shall end discussion and put it to a vote.”

  I tried to protest, but Lux closed the floor to debate. We voted immediately. Guess how that went.

  Lux raised his arms once again. “It is decided, brothers. In the event another race should attempt to rise to our level, then the project of creation shall be summarily terminated.”

  One last chance to make them back down. I had to make it personal. “And which of you will do it? Thundorious, will you freeze the world in a blizzard? Buti’col, will you make them all infertile? You just voted that one of us will destroy the world. Who will it be?”

  Lux said, “Perhaps it should be you, Acerbus. You are familiar with monsters and violence. Your skills are unmatched in causing loss of life.”

  “My goblins don’t die at my whim. They die to motivate other goblins to live their lives more fully.”

  O’Plenty groaned. “Please, Acerbus, no more debate. Why do you insist upon filling every meeting with your constant dissent? Let us draw straws and be done with it.”

  Lux said, “A fine suggestion. Brother Flaxius, would you be so kind?”

  Flaxius plucked thirteen hairs from his head and bit one in half to serve as the short straw.

  I struck my palm to my forehead. “You’re letting Flaxius, GOD OF STRAW, officiate drawing straws. Does no one else see how asinine that idea is?” Blank stares, all around.

  I drew the short straw, of course. I’m pretty sure I saw Lux wink at Flaxius when it was all over.