Divine Advice - Part 1

This is post 10 of this series. Wow. It is spiraling out of control. It won’t be long before things really start going crazy. I’m getting there, I promise. It is super close. If you know what I mean. BELIEVE. Shintra letamere latere.

–Beginning Basic Narration of Recording 10–

“FINALLY!” Lapadj screams out at the recorder and thus Sarela.

He is in the middle of a sparsely decorated room that is clearly not a part of the office at which he is pretending to work at. There is no extraneous furniture about the space. Only the default items of a Human abode. As for the presences, there is only his cloaked form and the invisible being of the Szarehan Sarela.

“What?” Sarela snips at him. “You miss me?”

“I missed the recorder,” Lapadj clarifies. “There were things that happened that should have been recorded and detailed.”

“Just share them with the Spine later. It is not like the information is lost or anything.”

“But it will be inconsistent with the previous recordings. It will not be the same.”

“Do you think anyone will care?” Sarela asks.

“I will.”

“Whatever.” She scoffs his protests away. “What happened? Why not detail to me what happened during the rest of the day?” Sarela says in order to placate the fuming Kharatzara.

“I might just do that…” He sighs. “Well, we made tests for a delete post by ID function and then made it. It was not that difficult, to be honest. Then we…refactored.” He shivers in place. “It was not all in vain.”

“The pull-thing became merged or whatever?” Sarela asked.

“Yes.” He motions to click his fingers but no mana or sound comes from the action. His fingers are fleshy and soft and he scoffs at them.

The recorder shifts its view, looking side to side. Then it ripples for less than a second and then an orange wispy form appears into view. It is a Szarehan.

“We are in private, you know,” Sarela says, form clearly and brazenly visible. Two little white slits exist on what can best be described as an imitation of a face. They flicker like eyes. “No need to still be cloaked. Also, why did I even bother to hold the recorder when it can just control itself?”

“I know we are in private. I know I can break cloak, but I am not going to. It ruins the authenticity. As for yourself and the recorder…” Lapadj blinks a few times. “A unique touch?”

She laughs hysterically and her ethereal and intangible form flies across the room. The recorder, acting on its own volition, focuses on her movements. She moves right through Lapadj and merges back into a coherent wisp as he spins around to face her.

“A unique touch, indeed,” she says dryly. “Whatever. I am going to just float around and comment. I do not feel like carrying that thing around.”

“Is it really carrying, though?”

“Close enough to carrying.”

“Well. Whatever.” He shakes his head. “As long as these chronicles are being recorded, I could not care less how it is being done. Just please do not leave again. I almost lost my mind with the Humans.”

“Was it about refactoring or the test driven development cult?”

“Both, but more of the latter,” he replies. He crosses his arms and strolls across the room. “Their philosophy does not make any sense. They claim it is more efficient, but if they were more diligent in design and more effective in ‘coding’ then they would not need to do such things. They are crippled by ignorance and myopia and instead of trying to remedy that they have constructed a complicated solution.”

“At least they are trying to correct themselves,” Sarela points out.

“True. True…” His voice trails off. He looks around the space. “Their methods are certainly not something an Empirian would approve. But I wonder…”

“You wonder what?”

“If the Gods would approve of it. Excluding the Ascended and Haeihlseth. The other Gods are so…disturbingly not Empirian. They have strange opinions.”

“Which Gods?” Sarela asks.

It takes sometime for Lapadj to respond, but eventually does with: “Specifically, the God of Programming.”

“There is a God for that?” the Szarehan questions, voice dripping with incredulity.

“Apparently. Just checked the Spine.”

Sarela laughs. “That is amazing–that we did not know that God existed and that the God exists.”

“Aye ky to that,” Lapadj says, speaking partially in Tyra Tarkush with no care.

“So what are you going to do with that information?” she asks. “Worship?”

“No, I am going to call this God and ask what they think of this Human programming philosophy. They are so minor they will certainly answer.”

Sarela lets loose a burst of cosmic energy and the view goes black.

–Ending Basic Narration of Recording 10–

*Yeah. I’m going there.

You know it.

TO BE CONTINUED.*