The Universe by Keith Soares

“Welcome to the afterlife,” I said, sounding bored. I couldn’t help it. This was, after all, about the billionth time I’d given my spiel. “I understand this is a very strange time for you, and that you may have a lot of questions. However, you are only permitted to ask one. Since most people find it difficult to pick just one question, I’ve taken the liberty of making a list of popular choices. Do you wish to hear the list?”

“Y- yes,” the entity before me said. His name was Carl. Carl Beaumont, formerly of Flagstaff, Arizona. Decent guy, maybe a little too into violent video games and online porn, especially since he was 62 when he died, but I wasn’t going to judge him. “Who are you? Where are you? I can’t see anything.”

“As this is your first – and only – time dying, Carl, I’m going to forgive a little of this banter. But be warned. After this, you only get one question.” Carl nodded, which was a silly thing to do when you were a formless entity, but I didn’t care. I knew everything, so I understood what he meant anyway. “I’m the Universe, Carl. I am everything. I am everywhere.”

“Are you… God?” he asked.

I tsked him. “Is that your question, Carl? Only one, remember.”

He thought a moment. “No. No, I want to hear the list.”

“Good choice, Carl. If nothing else, it’ll give you a second to compose yourself.” I cleared my throat, which was a terrible habit I’d had when I was alive. Funny how I kept doing it even after. “Here goes:

1. What is the meaning of life? That’s a popular option.

2. Where do I go in the afterlife?

3. What is my legacy on Earth? Sometimes rephrased as ‘Will people remember me?’

4. Can I be with my (insert important being here) again?

5. Are you (insert deity name here) or can I see (insert deity name here)? See how you almost selected that one by accident?

And finally, number 6. Free form. Ask me anything! So, give it some thought, Carl, and then fire away.” I waited. I had nothing but time, after all.

Even as a formless entity, Carl began to sweat. I could know his every thought, but at these times I felt it was only fair to give people their privacy.

“If you’re the Universe, what did you get wrong?” Carl said.

I was taken aback. In the billions of times I’d answered the question, no one had ever asked me that.

“Is that your question, Carl? Last chance.” I hoped he would change. I didn’t want to answer.

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“Really, Carl? No desire to talk to God, find out about the afterlife, or discuss a loved one?”

Carl formlessly shrugged. “Nah. I was always kind of a hermit, not too big into religion. I want to know where the Universe screwed up – what you regret.”

I sighed, audibly, again falling into old habits. Carl was dredging up memories. “All right, then.” I put on my most formal tone of voice, which, like most other things, was completely pointless. At least it made everything seem more official. “Carl Beaumont, your one question has been asked! Here is your answer!” I deflated back to regular me, a guy who had once owned a restaurant, employed dozens of people, had a family, and was well-loved around town. “My one regret is the question I asked when I was in your current position. I asked this: What is my legacy?”

A pregnant pause followed, and I could feel Carl’s sudden anger and frustration. “Wait, you can’t just stop there! If this is my only question for all eternity, you at least have to tell me what your answer was!”

It was my turn to sweat. But I agreed. It was only fair. Besides, soon Carl would be gone and someone else would arrive, and I’d be doing it all again. Maybe after another billion times, I could forget again. “Fine, Carl. My answer was nothing, or as close to it as you can get. I had no legacy. Many people remembered me for a few decades. A few people remembered me longer than that. But in less than 200 years, I might as well never have existed.”

“But, you’re the Universe. How can you have no legacy?”

“That’s another question, Carl, but I’m impressed by you. You asked me something no one else ever has, so I’m going to give you a pass. Here’s how the Universe has no legacy: We’re all Universes. It’s just that, when you’re down on Earth, you don’t know it yet.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Very soon you will, Carl. Your human body died, so now you will become like me, a Universe. You’ll have galaxies and solar systems, and yes, even people.”

“I don’t know how to run a Universe!”

“That’s okay, Carl. You don’t have to. It’s no different than being a human being. When you were a human, did you have to think about how to make your stomach digest food? No, of course not. And just like that, as a Universe, you won’t need to think about how the planets orbit or stars go supernova. It just happens.”

Carl struggled to understand. “Okay, then, if I become a Universe, will you and I be allies or partners or something?”

I knew this was yet another question, but I was in a giving mood. “Not really. Each Universe is, by definition, everything. Once you become a Universe, you’ll be everything, which includes me. So, while I’ll be there, it’s not really the same way I’m here now. We won’t be having conversations like this.”

“That’s it, then?” The entity that was Carl Beaumont, soon to be the Universe, shook his formless head in disbelief.

“Yes, Carl. That’s it. Time to go, now.” And without another thought, Carl was transformed. But his question stuck with me. Regret. How long would I regret knowing and being everything, yet forgotten and alone? I knew the answer. I would regret it forever.

“That’s a good story,” I said.

“Who are you talking to?” I asked.

“Oh, just me,” I replied. Who else was there, after all?

Keith Soares writes stories about down to earth characters who may become accidental superheroes, find themselves in a post-apocalyptic landscape, or generally just need to survive the strange realities of their SFF world.

When he isn’t busy dreaming up new worlds of science fiction, fantasy, and horror, Keith runs an interactive game, web, and app development agency. He’s a fan of authors such as Stephen King, Robert Heinlein, Arthur C. Clarke, Brandon Sanderson, Justin Cronin, and Andy Weir. Keith lives in Alexandria, Virginia, with his wife and two daughters, who are all avid readers.

Check out more of Keith’s work at KeithSoares.com or follow him on Facebook.