Prologue I
THE GAME BEGINS
“God hasn’t been proven not to exist, so therefore he must exist.”
- Sid Mier’s
- Alpha Centauri
HALL OF THE GODS
SOME TIME, SOME YEAR
The Trickster grinned around a mouthful of grapes. He cheerfully pelted his brother with the seeds.
“Oh, for Our Sake’s! Grow up will you?” His brother rounded on him, his eyes tinged red.
“Now, now Brother!” The Trickster stuck out his tongue, “No fightin’ in the Hall of the Gods,” He blew a childish raspberry. “You were the one to create that rule.”
Their Sister sighed at them from the comfort of her chaise, “Boys, boys, naught else you to do?”
“Oh!” The Trickster cried gleefully, “How about another Challenge? It’s been, what, over half a centaury since the last one? Oh, wait, was it yesterday? No, it couldn’t have been. . . .”
“No wonder they call you the Fool.” The Master half muttered under his breath.
“You’re just sore, ‘cos you lost last time!” The Trickster gloated, “What say you, Sister? Fancy losing to yours truly, yet again?”
The Mistress rolled her eyes, “You only won that last one because I was too kind to crush your forces into the dust,” She grinned, revealing slightly pointed teeth, “I beg you to get new players. That Zoe? And Mindi, and that buffoon Tory?”
The Trickster’s smile slid off his laughter wrinkled face, “Buffoon!” He scowled at her, “That Fern of yours would be more useful as an actual fern; much prettier, and less maintenance.”
The Master sniggered.
“And you!” The Trickster pointed a long accusing finger at his Brother, “Your whole lot died, fighting amongst themselves for absolute power, you didn’t even last the 50 years allocated time!”
The Master’s upper lip curled in distaste, “Well, this time they shall conquer.”
Their Sister sat up, “What are the conditions?” She asked eagerly.
“Any Time/Age/Era/Eon.”
The Mistress and the Trickster both nodded in agreement, and a crafty gleam came to the Trickster’s eyes.
“What about stealing players from each other – it’ll give the game more oomph.”
“Conversion – I like it!” The Trickster stroked his chin, “As many followers/gatherers as one wants.”
Their Sister said dryly, “At least a few new people,” The Trickster looked deflated. “Oh, and by the way, we start from scratch. Meaning, a new world, and a new agenda.”
“What about. . . .” The Trickster shifted through a few CD’s, he held up one with a golden Key shining on it, “The Key to the Breach of the Worlds?”
“Excellent,” The Master paused, “A new one – where’d you get it?”
The Trickster shrugged.
The Mistress closed her eyes and they were surrounded with stars, planets and galaxies. She opened them and picked out five planets, “Human civilizations living upon them, from five different galaxies,” She looked up at both of her Brothers, “New worlds to play with – untouched.”
The Trickster snapped his fingers and the rest of the Universe was gone from their sight, leaving only the five worlds. Another snap of his fingers, and the worlds were lying flat on the coffee table. Two were about the same size, but the other three varied.
The Master waved his hand and the three anomalies shrunk or grew to fit within the range of the other two. They watched as the five maps of the worlds settled into an neat even pile on the stardust coffee table.
The Mistress drew a jagged and very random line across the pile of maps, and the line glowed and shimmered.
The Trickster smiled and pressed his index finger to all four corners of the map on top. There was a hiss and a fizzing sound as the four corners of all maps melded together. Then they all closed their eyes, and the CD rose from the table and melted into the maps, “It is done, and let us proceed.”
“Good luck!” Their Sister kissed both Brothers on the cheek, before popping out of the Hall of the Gods with a small flicker of light.
“May the best man win.” The Trickster said courteously and stuck out his hand.
“I plan to.” Said the Master, and ignoring the proffered hand, disappeared in a smoky haze.
“Indeed,” Murmured the Trickster, and lowered his hand, “May the Game begin.” Smiling slightly, he snatched up a bunch of grapes and walked cheerfully out of the room, whistling a small tune.
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Any good? jai
