*Wordcount: 769 words.
The hum of machinery and pneumatic pumping filled the air. Gears, finely wrought and slotted precisely into place, ticked and turned. Individualised chaos, at a glance at least, coming together to create something perfect and neat. Steam hissed every now and then, adding humidity to the warmth created by the machines.
Deep within this choir of gleaming metal and perfect chaos, something awoke.
A consciousness, colossal and ancient, took its first tentative look around. It tried moving limbs, and felt the very foundations below it shudder. Every cog and gear, every machine and hissing pipe and vent was a part of it. Was it.
It decided moving was an obstacle that could be tackled later.
For now, it decided to think.
For it, thinking was monumental.
It knew… It knew so much. History, Science, literature, it knew it all. Not just the terms either. It had a depth and scope of knowledge that confused it. Its first memory was of waking, here. As this massive, interworking contraption.
It should have a name, it decided, and it thought.
So many options, but it had to be right.
There was a tugging at the back of its mind, something begging to be remembered. A name.
Its name was God.
It knew what God was, and what gods were, and a brief bout of thinking allowed it to recall every religion. They all had some kind of god, and there were definite similarities. But, it didn’t recall any of that. Surely if it had created life, or the universe, or had served as some special entity to a world of fleshy creatures (humans, God knew), it would remember at least some of it?
God stopped thinking, and started to really think.
Hours passed, days. God wasn’t sure how it knew, but it knew.
However, despite spending so much time considering what it knew, God was not remembering anything. Perhaps It didn’t need to remember, God could be its own entity. It didn’t need to be beholden to memories or legacies, It could create Its own!
It probably needed to learn how to move first.
In the process of learning movement, God realised the truth to its scale. It was massive. Millions of corridors and paths and pipes winding for thousands of kilometres. Ventilation shafts the size of mice to the size of whales. Whirring machinery the size of mountains.
God was really, really big.
Every single component could be controlled individually, and God spent another few weeks learning how and what. Its understanding and control grew, as did Its confidence.
After three weeks, God tried Its first big movement, and everything shifted a kilometre to the side.
It was then that God confirmed a suspicion: It was the size of a planet. Probably a planet in its own right.
The planet realisation had been monumental. But what did it mean? Was God created; an artificial planet? If so, why? When? Had It just awoken recently, new-born, or had It existed long ago, powerful and omnipotent? God had these questions and many, many more.
After a few days of consideration, God noticed a distinct pattern. The way It thought, the time It kept, related to humans. To Earth.
It was quite thought-provoking, really. God had extensive (potentially omniscient) knowledge of, well, everything. But the knowledge was skewed, put into terms and framed by human knowledge. It might even be thinking in English.
Then a thought occurred to It: It had never tried to speak.
God’s voice was powerful and booming, accentuated by mechanical clicks and the low hissing of steam. But it was garbled, nonsensical. To God, who at this point was confident It knew everything, this was concerning.
Despite Its incredible wealth of knowledge, there was much It did not know. About Itself, and Its origins. It wasn’t even sure if Its knowledge was accurate, It had just assumed so, but recent events had understandably cast doubts.
It was time: God had to go on the move.
The section of space that God resided was empty, distant from the nearest star or even asteroids. Just empty space.
God knew where the nearest stars were (in fact, God knew where all the stars were), but something troubled It: It could not see their light.
Though, considering everything so far, perhaps God was in a place so far away that no light from any stars had had time to reach it.
Was that possible? God felt It should know, but It wasn’t sure.
Not being sure made God very uncomfortable.
So, with cosmic strength, God propelled Itself forward.
Time to get some answers.