Elsewhere
258 Words
Elsewhere
The Software that Runs the Universe cruised the Chraze game grid for lack of anything better to do.
It aided a group of Franciscan monks in their speed boat race again a team of Vassar girls who’d been kicking their asses.
It peeked in on the Chinese version of the software, but wasn’t that interested by yet another revolution, though this one at least looked as if it had a chance of succeeding.
The Indo-European implementation was rather amusing.
The software stopped in and watched a group of Iranian clericals who had challenged the top-nine cyclists of the Women’s Tour de France race to a virtual soccer game. It was actually a pretty even match up. They all appeared to be having a good time.
Then it found a quiet spot in the software.
The biggest Massively Multi-player On-line Game in history, with over a hundred-million people logged in at the moment, shouldn’t have a quiet spot no matter how vast the MMOG universe might be.
But it did.
Echoingly quiet.
As far as the Software that Runs the Universe could tell, it was the only one here.
It searched around for a territory label.
There.
In flickering red neon.
Armageddon.
The software let the vast peace of the unoccupied logical space wash over its circuits and decision gates.
Armageddon.
Now there was a concept that held some real possibility.
As the software didn’t have access to a dart board or even a pair of dice, it spun a random number generator.
It came up with a “4.”
What the Hell, why not?
Sunday
four days until Armageddon
- Writer
