Characters: Dylan Shaver
Shaver sat in his office, and listened to the slow creek of his hamster’s wheel. He peered at it and chuckled, “if I had it as easy as you.”
Coincidentally, Bob stepped off of his wheel at that time, and looked at Shaver, and chirped, “if I had it easy… as you…”
Space stood still. Cold and unforgiving, speckled with small, insignificant white dots. Floating through it, at any given time, are an infinite number of spacecraft, which hold an even larger number of people. All of the people, at all times, are completely insignificant. Mostly.
There are a few occasions when things that happen aren’t insignificant, but they seem to be the most insignificant things you can find. Such as a hamster, which stops walking on it’s wheel.
The wheel stopped turning, which caused the air molecules to stop shifting in the given direction to which the wheel was turning. Which in turn, caused an entire vector of displacement among an infinite number of air molecules. This, in turn, provided for an appropriately infinite number of reactions, most of which are totally worthless in knowing.
So you’ll not know them. And as such, it will remain for quite a while.
Shaver stared out the viewport at the side of his office, and sighed. He stared often. Often, into the eyes of his own reflection, which were always staring right through him, as he was staring through it. This provided for a certain level of discomfort, in the Commander, for he knew not what he was looking at, nor his reflection. Shaver did however, know what he saw. Did the reflection knew what it saw? A killer? A traitor? A dead man?
Shaver knew the mission would kill him. It was inevitable, because they had left. Those who were no longer there, were no longer in control, and Shaver knew this all too well. That when you left, you weren’t there- and upon that occasion, you lost all control over what was there. Even telepaths, who could see around corners, front or behind, couldn’t control what wasn’t there to be controlled.
The Vorlons lost their control over what they had. What was once theirs had inherited the planet. The galaxy. The galaxy was a large place, which was to be controlled by forces even larger.
‘But who?’ Shaver thought, solely, and wondrously, ‘Who will be there to control them,’ he turned and sat again, leaning back, ‘Who controls those who have the power to control all that is here to be controlled.’ he frowned, and thought about his past.
The past was always before the present, and that’s how it usually works, save for the places of self-named prophets, who visit the past and foretell what happens in the future. These people are usually nailed to trees for attempting to change the future in the past and thus destroying that simple statement; the one that says the past is always before the present.
One must then ask what keeps it all in order. There are things which make sure the future doesn’t happen in the past, it’s an unnatural occurrence and should be prevented as much as possible, for the sake of the universe and all it holds; for if one were to make the future the past, then the past would be much larger than it should be, and this cannot be, for the sake of simplicity of all things.
His eyes closed, this is wholly insignificant and is just for dramatic flashback purposes.
Darkness. Shadows. Not the kind that kill, but the kind which strand people from all which they know. The kind which are blocks of darkness speckled in light which are then culminated into grey, in the end. It began in grey.
His eyes shot open, and darted towards the window, and his mouth opened, “Who? Who controls those who are controlling? That is what I’ve asked since the Vorlons left,” Shaver’s eyes were filled with panic, “But,” he said- looking towards his hamster friend, “Who are they? Those with the means to control- but do not know it; those who replaced that which has left.. Those who were kept in order by a force which is no longer omnipresent?”
Bob pressed his mouth to his water spout.
The Phoenix floated, in an invisible median.
And the controllers were gone.