PmWiki | Tripocalypse / Lilith

I woke up to a brightness in my eyes. No idea how I got here.

A golden street, leading to a massive gate, surrounded by enough brightness that I cannot discern the horizon. At the gate was a podium with a little boy sitting on a chair, looking like he doesn't want to look at me. That stung me inside for some reason.

There's a short line. Eventually, the boy calls me by name. How did he know my name?

"It's my job to know. I'm the one who opens the book to see if your name is on the big list."

What book? Ah, there it is. "You know what book", he says plainly.

Looks like I get some sort of Christian afterlife after all.

"REVIEW THIS LIFE", came a booming voice from nowhere.

"You got it" the child said casually. This filled me with dread for a moment, I instinctively knew who that was. A lot of nasty people, and some genuinely decent people, told me about this god all the time.

The child took out a video tape from somewhere, popped it in a VCR connected to an old style cathode ray tube TV, and began playing it. All these things just sort of popped up - it felt like they'd been there when I first arrived, but I remembered their absence. Strange.

"What are you doing?" I asked. It came out as more frantic than I intended.

"Watching your life, your time on earth".

"Why?" I was expecting some questions. Instead, I am treated to a ridiculously sped up replay of my viewport that is, nevertheless, crystal clear.

"You know why."

The tape began playing, and soon it showed my time as a baby and a small child. I wasn't bothered with it, although there were some cringeworthy moments.

Did someone snicker, or was it the tape?

Ah, my teenage years. A few fond memories and a lot of angst. Every single time I shoplift the tape seems to slow down. Every single time I turn around and tell the manager that he or she needs to check their security the tape speeds up.

"On this day, March 23, you 'borrowed' the family car and stole away one of your classmates to see an abortion doctor."

My legs go numb for some reason. "She demanded that I punch her in the guts to induce an abortion. Turns out she wasn't pregnant in the first place. I did the safest thing among the alternatives."

"Sorry you were mislead, how that lie of least evil came about I'll have no understanding. Let's continue."

"Is this actually part of my judgement? Because if so, I exercise my right to a jury trial."

No answer to that.

"Here's someone you've been dating, told you about God's plan and how God loves everyone, including you. You told this person that he was wrong, and that you had no more time for the relationship. This caused this person a great depression."

"I don't date creationists. We were on a stargazing trip for crying out loud. Ask Einstein if he's up here." Keep it together. It's definitely not just a kid, but there's no reason to become hostile yet.

The child played further. There's definitely some snickering in the background... I can't see anyone else around me. That's worrying.

"February 14th. One of your friends came to the Lord, confessed his sins, and repented for all the bad things he did. You ridiculed him, disparaged his friendship, and declared yourself a racist."

"I've never abandoned a friend regardless of our differences in belief. Keep watching that thing, and you'll find out. And I didn't declare myself a racist, I said that it's natural for people to feel closer to people who are more like themselves. Is it not so?"

A thought comes to me, that perhaps I should apologize for everything I've ever said. Where'd that come from? I've said a lot of stupid things to people, but if this is my day of reckoning, I have a duty to stand behind it. I'll apologize to those I've hurt, if they care and if I already haven't, not to whatever this being is.

"Before you say anything else, let me remind you that you also said that you didn't need His forgiveness and that if you ever met Our Lord, you'd tell Him to His face. Before we continue, I'll grant you that chance."

I'm angry now, angrier than I should be. Calm down. This will require de-escalation to sort out, not anger. Save anger for when you need it. "Great. Understand that if He starts a fight, I will finish it." Yeah, that didn't come out as rational as I wanted it to.

I looked over, and there to the side, sitting on a stone was Jesus, looking... very disappointed, actually. I let a bit of fear at the sudden apparition wash over me, but can't shake the sadness. He looked classically well-proportioned, perfect even. So, why is He out here instead of behind those gates, waiting for people to come in?

Well, for right now, I ain't budging. "All right, let's have it out, in front of Him if you want."

The child ignored me and continued playing the tape.

"And then the day of your death. Right before, you tried to talk some of Jesus' followers into beliving false words, when they told you the truth. Then your end came. You died instantly, I assure you that you didn't feel a thing."

"I was wrapping up a debate, yes. You can call my words false, if you like, but my math checks out - the universe is much older than a few thousand years. What happened, did one of those crazy people run me over?"

The laughter grew a bit louder, and the tape stopped.

"Now comes the book."

"Look, I've done a lot of good things and a lot of bad things in my life. I regret very few of them. If I have any regrets, is not doing enough in either direction, and for THAT, I am sorry. So about this book of yours, is it read-only?"

"No can do, if it's in here, it's in here. If not..." The child sighs. What, the double-predestination nuts were right? This is ridiculous.

Owing to however time works here, we scan through the whole thing, twice. I can't keep count of the names, but out of the teeming billions of humanity, there are very few here.

"Is this name written?" asks Jesus.

"No, Lord. The name isn't in there" answers the child. I get the impression that I'm supposed to just spectate.

(complaint about the good things not showing up)

"YOUR VIRTUOUS DEEDS ARE AS FILTHY RAGS TO ME."

Suddenly there's a pile of those between me and the Throne. I pick one up. When I do, it turns out to be what's left of my favorite sweater, a simple green job with a patch on it, the logo of the people I was working with. I put it on.

"YOU MUST BE ASHAMED OF YOUR NAKEDNESS."

It's not a statement, or a command, it's a bit of both. I let shame wash over me quickly. The sweater is just a bit too short, and I do not cover between my legs. Instead, I touch the words on the logo.

"I'm ashamed of having died for my cause. I should've been smarter, and lived longer for it."

(matthew 25:30 stall condition)

"... So, you have to tell me 'Well done, good and faithful servant' and then let me into heaven. But, I never did ask for your forgiveness, so you must toss me into hell. The two are contradictory."

The figure sitting on the white throne lets me continue, much to my surprise. I half expected I'd be in a brawl by now.

"If you create a duplicate of me for either job, that won't have been 'me' in any meaningful sense. You are always right by definition, and you never change your mind. Figure it out. You demand fair judgement, and so do I. I'll wait."

And wait. It takes me some time to realize that the figure on the white throne is frozen. It takes me considerably less to find that so is everyone else. I walk up to the being holding the Book of Life, and wave. Nothing. I touch its hair, and I bounce back with a perfect sine-wave sound. It doesn't move. Neither does the book's page, much to my disappointment.

(everything stops)

(walk away until the white throne is out of sight due to low resolution rather than horizon)

"Did you beat God at chess? Shogi? Tied him at tic-tac-toe?"

"No, I sort of... Captain Kirk'd him."

"That's a new one."

I told her the story.

"Oh, yes. I've met a few people who have done that, they just called it something else."

"Who are you?"

"I'm Lilith. I was the first one here."

"Do you know what 'here' is?"

"God can't lose. He doesn't understand it, you see. And if he doesn't understand it, it doesn't happen. So, it has to have no time in which to happen. As best as I can figure out, we're outside of time. If you want more math than that, you'd have to ask Albert."

"I walked for... I don't know. Hours. Years."

"And now you can rest. If there's no time, there's no space, either, it's just a matter of... perspective. Take my hand."

I do. She gives it a tug. We walk a few more steps. Something comes into view as my understanding of my eyes start resolving it in the whiteness, just like she did, only much faster and much bigger.

It's a square landscape, mostly green, a mountain on one end. From away, it looks like a videogame level. And then we reach the edge of it, and we mostly stop. The front half of my understanding of my body feels inertia. In front of me is a landscape that could easily be Napa, or Tuscany. I step on the grass. It feels solid enough.

"... what is this?"

"It's a splay. There are a few hundreds, all made from memory. This one is my home." She lets go of my hand and points to a small ancient Middle Eastern town, incongruously placed at the feet of the quarter-mountain in this Mediterranean landscape. "You can stay for a while, but don't make a mess. The last person I found got as far as installing wifi. You'll figure out how to get to some very different places, I'm sure, but for now, rest, do the simple things in order. You can share some memories with me later if you like."

I look around. The air smells like soil and oranges. I get what she means about not making a mess. "... uh, thank you. Do you need any carpentry done?"

She gives me the sort of pseudoseductive look that flight attendants regale to minor celebrities flying first class, and walks off at a fast pace towards the village. I'm hungry, all of a sudden. Up the hill there are blackberry bushes. I wave, and she waves back, and I take my favorite sweater off, tie the sleeves together, and get gathering. It's a start. Bunnies scatter when I get to the bushes. I'll have to learn how to hunt.

(failure condition)

The first few days? years? hurt too much to let me think, but eventually, I do. I am in a lake of fire and brimstone. Well, fire and brimstone means a number of things - a recognizable chemistry, for one. And lake means that it has a shore.

I stop struggling, and instead, let myself sink to the bottom. I open my eyes. Red-out, or nearly so. It hurts me, but it can't harm me. Walking in a straight line with no reference points is extremely difficult, so I kick a bit of mud and rocks at the bottom just enough to make a bump. I move a few steps, and do it again.

I have to tell myself I don't need to breathe, and surface a number of times before I can make myself believe that. When I come back down, I lost the bumps, and have to start over. Eventually, after many tries, I manage to make myself stay on the bottom. Now, all I have to do is look back, see the few bumps that I can see in the red haze, and use that to make sure I am moving in a straight line.

Eventually, there's a distinct upward component to my slog in the mud. I can follow it, so I do.

Without warning, on the next step, my head pops out of the burning brimstone. I scamper out to shore; it's red, smoky, hostile, pebbles and rock and little sand, and it turns into a vertical wall that goes up past my ability to see through the haze. I take one triumphal breath, finally free of the pain.

Now what? Now we dig.