The Second To Last Human Alive

Chapter 8 - The War Of Ten Thousand Universes

Ur-Elohim Demiurge was, in a manner of speaking, outraged. Although the Great Omnipotent Light had no such animal urges as emotions, he was still in a state of agitation over the news.

His greatest rival, his only true equal, had declared war. There was no formal declaration, the coward, merely a sudden and fierce attack on Ur-Elohim’s forces throughout dimension, form and time. Morningstar’s forces had also destroyed a very pleasant dream Ur-Elohim had been planning on having in a weeks time. Such an outrage, although it failed to evoke such primitive a response as outrage in the Seer of Eternity, could not stand. Even if war had not been Morningstar’s goal he would soon know its embrace.

“I want every Exotic-Matter Ship in the fleet crossing Morningstar’s timeline. Convert pocket dimension 616 into antimatter. And see to it that some assassins attain enlightenment and have them kill all his allies in Nirvana.”

That would be a start, but Ur-Elohim’s forces were not prepared for a war on this scale. The most pressing matter would be to contact himself in the distant past and warn him of the impending danger. Convince him to hire those damnable planet assassins, have them find the Key to Fate, and to bring it to the end of time. Ur-Elohim was not looking forward to a chat with his past self. His past self was always screwing his future self over, such is the way of linear time.

“Schedule a meeting for me a thousand years ago with,” Ur-Elohim sighed “Ernst and Dougall.”

The names tasted like anguish and compromise in his mouth. 

* * *

“Alright,” said Gadswell, gingerly taking a seat “You know enough about things you shouldn’t to bring me here. It should go without saying that I am an unfathomably busy man. You have 5 minutes and they’ve already started.”

“Oh I have a feeling you have time for us,” said Mint “You might say this proposal is once in a lifetime.”

“That was your one embellishment,” said Gadswell “One more and I walk. What is it that you have.”
Mint smiled very slightly at the threat.

“I have a list,” she said “Of the presidents of Earth 3, or rather, those who will become president.”

“Oh do you now?” asked Gadswell “I suppose you want me to ask if I’m on your magic list?”

“As a matter of fact,” replied Mint “You are.”

“Ha. I suppose you told my opponent that he would win when you made your pitch to him.”

“I didn’t say you won this election did I?”

Gadswell laughed and began to stand up from his seat.

“And how can you verify the accuracy of such a list,” he scoffed.

“I’m from the future,” said Mint matter-of-factly “But you, oh wise and powerful politician, have no reason to believe me. Nor do I expect you to. What I want you to do is take this,” she handed him a slip of paper “Read this after they’ve officially tallied to votes and announced a winner.

“Is this real?” asked Gadswell, rubbing his thumb lightly on the paper.

“Oh it’s paper all right,” said Mint “From a tree and everything.”

“What do you want from me?” Gadswell asked, trying his hardest to mask the fear that suddenly gripped him by the asshole “You said something to my people about Project Ice Cream Headache, things you couldn’t possibly know. Things I don’t even know for sure. So if you are who you say you are, and you already know I lose this election, what do you want from me?”

“You have influence within project Ice Cream Headache. All we want are two prototypes.”

Mint read Gadswell’s mind before he could finish sugar-coating his next question.