"Ooh, nasty."

"What's that, Skarpers?"

"Hmm? Oh, just some little war I'm watching down the bottom of that big continent over there. The ones with horses and spears were kicking butt but then the other ones figured out how to make this explodey powder stuff shoot things out of tubes and now it's all gotten a bit gooey."

"Seriously? I dunno, sometimes I wonder whether this whole sentience thing was a mistake. I mean the music and poetry and literature and art and civilisation and butt-scratching sticks and all that kind of stuff are great, but do you think the little sods can leave it at that? Not hardly. No sooner does one lot discover crop rotation or get all enlightened or build some magnificent wonder of the world or something, than some other lot with bigger swords comes along to salt their fields and lop off their heads and burn their wonder to the ground. Maybe I should have left the place to the trees and sea-capsicums and shaggy mole-elephants."

"Are you kidding me, Am? No way. This sentience stuff is great. Leaves I Spy for dead. What with wars and revolutions and genocides and so on, there's hardly a dull moment. It's a great watch. Sure beats hanging around waiting for the next genus to evolve. Besides, what do you care what the little pyschos get up to? They're not your responsibility."

"Aren't they? I mean, I did foster the conditions that led to their existence, which kinda makes me feel a tad responsible. Besides which, they've started trying to figure it out."

"Figure what out, mate?"

"Everything. You know, life, the universe, the whole shebang. What it's all about and where they came from."

"So?"

"So, they're not very good at it. Far as I can tell, most of their belief systems seem to involve some lunatic taking a wild guess and then, provided said lunatic happens to have a louder voice or a smoother tongue than the next lunatic, a bunch of idiots jumping on board to worship whatever they're told to."

"Okay, right. Sounds a bit misguided, but where's the harm?"

"The harm is that half the time some other lunatic tells their followers to worship totally different stuff to what the first lunatic said and you wind up with something like that war you're so interested in. It's a mess."

"Oh yeah, for sure, but it's an entertaining mess. So, what kind of stuff are they worshipping?"

"Well, mostly the sort of things you'd expect, I guess. You know, the sun, nature, big rock things that look a bit like two armadillos wrestling—if you screw your eyes up and the sun's on the right angle, anyway. Pretty much anything that takes their fancy as potentially mystical. There are some pretty weird ones, though. I mean, there's one tribe over on the western landmass there who worship cheese."

"Cheese?"

"Cheese. They reckon the world was squeezed from the udder of the great sky-cow and lay dormant for a million years, until the holy cheesemaker came along and kicked things off with the great curdling. And it will all end at the coming of the dark mould."

"Ha, love it. C'mon, Am, you've gotta have a laugh. You couldn't make this stuff up. Besides, even if you wanted to set 'em straight, what could you do?"

"Well, I've actually been giving that some thought. I could write the truth in letters of flame on the side of a mountain or something grand like that, but I'm a bit worried their tiny brains couldn't take it. I think I might have to break it to 'em a bit more gently."

"Like, how?"

"Like, via an intermediary. Someone more on their level. Someone with a brain every bit as tiny and misguided and therefore relatable. In other words, via one of them."

"One of them?"

"Yeah. I've just gotta find the right one. You see, I'm thinking what I need is a prophet."

"Right. Gotcha. Um...what's a prophet?"

"Someone to spread the word, Skapari. Someone I can set straight on how things really are, so they can go off and tell everyone else. Ideally, without blowing their puny minds."

"Yeah, right. I can see that. Good thinking, Am. Got anybody in mind?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. See that poor stiff staggering along all by herself through the desert? The one about half an hour off carking it from exposure and dehydration?"

"Oh, yeah. Sucks to be her, I guess. Should have taken a left at the last oasis. What about her?"

"Well, her luck's about to turn. She's going to get an unexpected shower of rain. And then she's going to get an even more unexpected shower of revelation. Check this out."

~~~~

"Greetings, little one. It is I, your creator."

"Huh? Who said that?"

"I did."

"What the? Who did? Where are you?"

"Why, I am everywhere. I am all around you, little one. I am omnipresent."

"Omnipresent? Omnipresent, my butt. Whoever you are, you'll be omni-punched-in-the-face if you don't show yourself, right now."

"Calm yourself, little one. I can neither show myself—nor be punched in the face—as my existence transcends physical form. I am simply manifesting my voice in a manner comprehensible on your plane of existence. Do you understand?" 

"Oh yeah, sure, I understand. I understand either the storm that just saved my life was a dehydration-induced hallucination, and you are too, or someone behind that bush is playing a seriously not-funny practical joke. Bovvo, if that's you over there, you're in big trouble, sunshine."

"Oh, for goodness' sake. Kindly observe, the aforementioned bush has now turned to dust—with no-one hiding behind it. And this is no hallucination."

"Whoa. Uh...right. And who are you again?"

"I am your creator."

"My grater?"

"No, not your bloody...ahem. No, little one, I am your creator. I am Am."

"You am what?"

"Am."

"Yes, we've established that. You am something. What's the something?"

"There is no something. I am simply Am."

"Huh?"

"Look, you dense little smudge of carbon...uh, that is to say, what I mean is that my name is Am."

"Seriously? Bit of a lame name, don't you think?"

"You know, I'm starting to wonder if you're prophet material."

"What?"

"Never mind. Look, your name is Jules, right?"

"Hey, how'd you know...? Oh, yeah."

"Listen, Jules, have you ever wondered what it's all about? What it all means? Where everything came from?"

"Not really. See, there's this big cow up in the sky and—"

"Jules?"

"Yes, Am?"

"Do me a favour and shut up, would you? And then sit your butt down on that rock over there and brace yourself. Things are about to get revelatory."