The God Machine works in mysterious ways. Most religions have some version of this saying. Little do people know that their religious stories originated from our pens, from the God Machine directly to us, the scribes, the makers of the story.
Well, that’s the way it’s supposed to work. Unless you break the rules. Mind you, breaking the rules is difficult. Firewalls are in place to ensure that we, the scribes, stick to the program, that we see what’s in our files and only in our files. We don’t get to see the lives of others, except where they overlap the lives of the people for whom we the scribes are creating a story.
That was my “in,” you know. The overlap. I had Anthony Alexander’s file. I was to give him the cure for all sins. He was to kill his friend, Oliver King, after all. It made sense to deprive him of this sin. To give him the cure for all sins to prevent it.
But life as a scribe can be drudgery. After a while, the stories start to sound the same. Same patterns. Same Byronic hero. Or villain, depending upon whose literary tendencies you subscribe to. Satan in John Milton’s “Paradise Lost” was a Byronic hero, you know.
Maybe you didn’t. I didn’t. Not at first. It’s not like scribes like me have time to keep track of all the overzealous appetites of man and angels. Not usually.
No, I have no excuse for what I did. I couldn’t change Anthony’s appetite. Since that wasn’t in his file as a parameter for his story, I couldn’t touch it. The God Machine would have stopped me. So I changed Veronica’s appetite. It was a simple matter, I thought. No writing required on my part, because I didn’t have a file for her. That’s why it was so ingenious. I didn’t technically write the story of her cravings for the rapunzel plant into the God Machine. Therefore, that change in her couldn’t be traced back to me. It really was just a simple flip of the switch.
Brilliant theory, but it was just that. Only a theory. See, what I’ve discovered is that if you don’t give the God Machine its story, it’ll fill in the gaps. It makes up for missing information by pulling from the other stories already in its system. In this case, it didn’t know why Veronica craved the rapunzel plant so much.
So? You may say. What’s the difference?
The difference is famine. That’s what. I made it so that Veronica craved the rapunzel plant. The God Machine filled in the “why” since I gave it none. In other words, it created a famine, which in turn created a shortage of the rapunzel plant and other foods, which in turn created a craving in Veronica.
And it keeps going. The scribes of the God Machine might be slaves, but they are also the keepers of order.
If ye eat of the tree, ye shall surely die…
I fear that this is the truth and not just myth as I watch as the decay sets into Anthony’s life. The decay that I was supposed to stop.
I know of no cure for this sin that I have committed.