The God Complex: The Book Of Alan, Destroyer Of Worlds

Chapter Seven

"BREAKING 'S NEWS' ALERT: Countries across the remaining planet are making plans for their 'drink the planet dry' parties, to be held the day before the Earth officially stops spinning. Message in and tell us how you'll begin seeing out your final days."

'Washington DC,' thought Alan. 'What a Godless dump.'

Unfortunately, he had to be there but thankfully this was to be his finest hour. He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it before. As miracles go, it would knock turning water into a distinctly average rioja into a cocked hat.

These idiot humans had pushed the most rugged, durable, idiot-proof planet in the known universe to its tipping point and now, as per 'Subsection 43 of the Supreme Beings users-manual for the rock formation commonly referred to as Earth,' he had to bail them out. There was no getting around that, despite his best efforts, so why not use it to his advantage?

Sure, technically it was unethical to take credit for something that had to happen anyway, but he was just using the opportunities that presented themselves. If anything, it was showing initiative.

Sure, it's possible that mankind might mistakenly sing his praises for endless generations to come, and it's indeed possible they might pass down the knowledge that it was Alan, Destroyer of Worlds who saved mankind forever more, which, yes, might make it difficult for the next deity who came along; but that was their problem. It was a cut-throat universe out there.

He floated down on Capitol Hill and all those politicians, pretending to worship him but only worshiping themselves; it made him sick.

In fact, the only thing worse than the politicians were the scientists, those white coated bastards with their infallible, empirical data, too stupid to realise all their theories of evolution were planted.

'Dinosaurs,' he thought to himself and chuckled. 'Those idiots.'

Frankly, if it was up to him, mankind would be left to stew it's own juices, but they had been keeping a close eye on him after the 'unpleasantness' with the last species he worked his mysterious way with, so today had to be by the book.

He'd identified the chap 'Dawkins,' head of their puny space exploration programme and best placed to use his technology to save all their stinking lives.

As luck would have it, he was just drifting off for a Sunday nap, so it was the old 'vision of God' routine for this loathsome little atheist.

Like it or not it was his job to keep the natural order of things, which was a shame, the paperwork alone was going to be an absolute nightmare.

***

As the crimson sky radiated its morning heat onto Hyde Park, Susan once more steeled herself for the task ahead.

'Safe passage off this dying planet,' she thought. She didn't see how it could be true, but she had to believe in her Lord, she had to have faith. Enough faith, at least, to stand once more in front of all those people and again convince them of her truth; convince them of her Lord. All their lives depended on it.

As she carefully weaved her way through the meandering throng of hecklers, supporters and the hopelessly bored, she found her spot between her two bearded competitors and brushed down her dress, grateful to at least look slightly less unhinged than her counterparts this time around, even if she may not sound it.

'Look the religious nut is back!' She heard yelled from the crowd. 'How has God appeared to you this time? As a hamster, or as a toaster?'

Susan ignored the childish giggling from the onlookers and composed herself.

'I have returned with great news. Our creator is both understanding and forgiving, he knows how sceptical you have become at the end of days; knows it will take more than just blind faith to convince you all of his divinity; knows nothing less than a miracle is needed to turn your prayers and offerings back to him.' Susan's voice grew in strength as she grew in confidence.

'Long have you believed he had forsaken you, I believed he had forsaken me also until he appeared in my darkest hour. He only wants to give us a second chance, to save us so we can go on living and all he asks is to be recognised and for his true name to be in our prayers. So, he offers us all a miracle; a miracle that will not only prove he is the one true creator and saviour, but a miracle that will provide us passage off this dying planet.'

'Rubbish!' the crowd interrupted.

'It is not!' yelled Susan. 'Our creator sent me out today to prove to you his existence. He told me to tell you all that by the time I am finished speaking today every man, woman and child will be saved from this dying planet and then there can be no doubt.' She said defiantly and not without some small trepidation for how long she would have to keep talking before the news broke, if it ever would.

'Your Lord's name is Alan.'

Again, she ignored the trickle of laughter rippling through the crowd, 'and we have much work to do if we are to make amends for the damage done to him and to the planet he created for us. We are all in his debt, but thankfully he has taught me how he prefers to be worshipped, so with a few small adjustments we can show him...'

Susan's train of thought was interrupted by the low buzz of notifications spreading across the crowds' phones.

She exhaled relief as an excited murmur spread through the crowd. She knew this was her moment, there could no longer be any doubt Alan was real and true to his word.

She was vindicated and now needed to capitalise on his miracle and convert them to his Alanism.

'A MIRACLE!' She yelled as loud as she could, but the crowd of people in front of her were all looking at their phones, all except one.

A hooded figure in the background stared straight at Susan, held her phone aloft as to take a picture before quietly slipping away into the park.

'What you are witnessing is a miracle of Alan. Who but the almighty creator could reach down and save us all from certain doom, who else has the divine power to save us and provide safe passage off this dying planet?'

'President Abaddon! Yelled an onlooker waving her phone.

'I beg your pardon?' said Susan.