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Rated: 13+ · Novel · Sci-fi · #1777919
Squirrels are an imperfect system for interstellar travel.
The Universe is a VAST enough place that there are only five sentient beings in it whose opinions actually matter. It is important to note right off that the reader of this book is not one of them. It is also important to note that neither is the writer.
And it is the writer’s opinion that the universe always balances itself out so that there are five, only five and perpetually five of Those Whose Opinions Actually Matter.
One is killed off as soon as another is born, spawned, or excreted, or however its particular form of being comes into being. Some, who are astute, or wise, or hallucinogenically augmented enough to recognize this phenomenon have argued that it proves of the existence of an omnipotent God. But, then again, people who truly ponder these things are never Those Whose Opinions Actually Matter. And again, no, you are not one of them.
To you, they might. Your opinions I mean. Matter that is. But, believe it or not, you’re just not that important. Nothing personal. Me neither. It’s okay. It’s actually a bit of relief, if you think about it.
The one person who noticed that the small percentage of Those Whose Opinions Actually Matter rarely have the time, interest, or disposition to draw conclusions on the existence of God and therefore generally left it up to the vast VAST majority of Those Whose Opinions Really Don’t (again, lookin’ at YOU here), happened to be a hyper-intelligent light-years-wide collection of Cesium atoms.
However, before Dave, (that was the Cesium atoms’ name) could share his epiphany (really “its” epiphany, since it’s hard for cesium atoms to form gender-specific organs) of a universe that structured itself so that God could remain happily and blamelessly ambiguous, he (it) was so startled he (it) self-ignited and died horribly painfully before he (it) could tell anybody, taking a burgeoning star system, having just achieved orbital space flight and about to complete it’s first atom splitting reactors, with him. (It).
At first glance this seems like kind of a shame, however the Scarlons, who lived among Dave, were racially a planet of warlike brutes, and probably would have committed a small but annoying amount of atrocities before they blew themselves out of existence anyway.
However Dave’s Epiphany would have been a virtually unassailable argument for a sort of self-aware force that organizes our universe, i.e. God. So his untimely death was a bit of a Dues Es Machina anyway.
See what I mean? What if YOU or I (better you than I, frankly) was responsible for the deaths of the Scarlons? I mean, I wouldn’t invite them over for drinks, but I wouldn’t wish death on them either. Talk about guilt. Glad there’s someone else to take care of these things, ambiguously blameless though he may or may not be.
Anyway, in the GRAND scheme of things, there are only five beings whose opinions actually matter: that is to say, have any influence over the matter which composes “being” and matters to most beings made of…matter. Three of them are far too busy, or evil, or interested in the world around them to notice that their opinions really do matter. Two of them, two men, however, are just self involved enough to know EXACTLY how much their opinions matter and be very proud of it.
Well, not so much proud per say. Just confident. Very, very confident. Really to a fault. In fact, you might not like them. I mean, that, of course, depends on you. Not that your opinion matters, ultimately. Sorry. I mean, book’s already written, right? But you might not like them. They’re not necessarily likeable. I’m just preparing you.
However, It is with these two we shall begin our tale.

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