Jasper Fforde - The Great Troll War

‘What if there’s no one there?’ I asked.

‘No one where?’ asked Shandar.

‘Out there,’ I said, pointing towards the heavens. ‘What if all the advanced intelligence in the galaxy was living on a pale blue dot orbiting a medium-sized sun on an outer spiral arm of a none-too-unusual galaxy? What if the best you get to rule over is something jelly-like that has only just dragged itself out of a shallow sea?’

‘It’s a good point,’ said Shandar, ‘and one which I have considered. If life has not yet emerged, then I will create my own, and populate worlds with creatures made in my image. I will truly then be a god. Not one that assumes or has assumed their power – but a real one. A Creator. A Controller. A Grand Architect. The One Who Is All Things To All Creatures.’

‘You can’t create things just so you can control them,’ I said. ‘That’s not being a god – that’s just being a massive bully led by a galactic-class ego – a child building sandcastles on the beach so he can knock them down.’

I saw Shandar clench and unclench his fists.

‘You test me daily, Miss Strange.’

‘You said you wanted to learn about your Better Angels: this is called humility.’

‘I disagree with your approach,’ he replied. ‘You are to bring my Better Natures forward as a conductor brings up the bassoons – only when required, and in moderation.’

There was silence for a few moments.

‘You must have some of this kedgeree,’ said D’Argento nervously, ‘it’s really very good.’

‘I have some toast,’ I said, nibbling on a corner. Shandar’s power and ambitions weren’t the only thing worrying me right now. My goading of him had another purpose: to remind myself how much I despised him. He had decided during his self-spelled immortality to de-age himself back to about thirty-five and to make himself more handsome. To Shandar, there was no point becoming a god if you were walking around in a body not fit for purpose. In this I had little interest except that, worryingly, and despite everything, I found myself thinking that he was not unpleasing to the eye. Worse, on another occasion I thought one of his jokes hardly rubbish at all. There could only be one explanation for this: he was beguiling me with his new-found power. If this were to run to its logical conclusion, my resolve would be removed entirely and with it any chance to potentially save the lives of the trillions of sentient lives which currently had no idea at all of their possible annihilation.

It would be preventive tyranny at its very finest.

So long as I could act.

‘How are your quarters?’ Shandar asked.

‘A gilded cage is still a cage,’ I replied.

‘Your humour is very surly at present,’ said Shandar, helping himself to more kedgeree. ‘Something wrong?’

‘Where do you want me to start? I am here because I was coerced. You have kidnapped me and expect me to do your bidding.’

‘You came of your own free will,’ said Shandar. ‘You could have refused my deal and died with your species and planet. That option was always open to you.’

‘It was no option and you know it.’

‘There you go with that ingratitude of yours again,’ said Shandar. ‘I am about to elevate you to the status of a god. What can you possibly have against me?’

‘The Better Angels of our nature are there to prompt us to a better place,’ I said, ‘and to offer virtuous judgement to guide us all to honourable conduct. You want to manipulate mercy only to feed your personal ambitions. Besides, I am mortal, and to be honest, what is stopping me from taking a one-way trip out of the airlock? You need the better side of yourself to achieve lasting domination; you said so yourself – evil alone is not enough; a stick is valueless without the carrot, criticism worthless unless tempered by praise.’

He stared thoughtfully at me for a moment.

‘Agreed,’ he said finally. ‘You are too valuable during this early re-educational phase to be lost.’

He pointed a finger at me. I experienced a brief shudder and suddenly felt stronger and lighter and more buoyant. I moved my hands and they seemed to work with greater precision and speed.

‘There,’ he said, ‘I have given you immortality and invulnerability.’ He paused to let this sink in. ‘You are now like me, a superhuman whose destiny is to lead. You may not see it straight away, but you’ll come round to it. And you will admire and respect your master for what I am doing, given time.’

‘I’m immortal?’

‘You’re welcome. You will age naturally until you are twenty-two and perfect in every way, then stay that way for ever. Our wedding party will be delayed until our first planetary conquest: no point in making a star go nova 57 57 ‘Going nova’: an exploding star. Shandar’s idea of a firework display. I don’t suppose he cared whether that sun was home to a friendly system of planets. without any witnesses, eh?’

‘You should really say thank you,’ said D’Argento. ‘This is an honour not yet even bestowed upon me, and I am the Mighty Shandar’s most loyal subject.’

‘Everything comes to those who wait, my dear,’ said Shandar, laying his hand affectionately on D’Argento’s. She moved slightly as he did, and for a fleeting moment I thought I could sense disgust on her face – but then it was gone and she pressed her other hand on his and smiled sweetly.

I’d never thought of what it would be like to be immortal – one doesn’t, really, but I could muse on it now. It seemed only a mere flash since I left the orphanage. If that’s what the passage of time felt like, the inevitable end of the universe would doubtless come cantering up with annoying rapidity. I thought again of how the view from the orbit of Ganymede was something to behold.

‘What did you say?’ said Shandar, his tone sharper than normal. He’d heard it when the Quarkbeast communicated it to me the first time, and the suspicion I’d had earlier about the message suddenly made more sense. I had a daring thought. But if I was right, I didn’t want to raise his suspicions.

‘I was just thinking,’ I said, ‘why don’t we drop into orbit around Ganymede? We could use the time to acclimatise in a place closer to home – and study Jupiter, or at the very least collect some data to analyse at our leisure.’

He looked at me, eyes narrowed.

‘Are you up to something, Jennifer?’

‘I just think a moment of reflection before departing our home solar system would be time well spent, that’s all.’

‘I disagree. My decision is made, I need no time for reflection.’

‘Since Jennifer is your empathy consultant,’ said D’Argento in a rare moment of support, ‘I think it might be a good idea.’

Shandar stared at D’Argento, then back at me.

‘Very well,’ he said finally. ‘Ganymede, eh? It will be a good opportunity to see how well I can manoeuvre the tower at close quarters. A useful skill I should hone now, before we head over to Proxima Centauri. Besides, you are still not fully understanding the brilliance of my mission. Perhaps you need a couple of weeks so we can straighten it out in your head. Who knows? By the end of that fortnight you could have completely changed your mind about me.’

He smiled as he said it. My suspicions about a beguiling were correct.

‘That might indeed help,’ I said. ‘Would you pass the Waldorf salad? 58 58 Named after the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, this salad is made of apple, celery, walnuts and grapes on a bed of lettuce, liberally drizzled with mayonnaise. I seem to have developed something of an appetite.’

‘That’s good,’ said Shandar. ‘I do so hate girls who pick at their food.’