The great dead seas of Mars did not stir on this bright and very hot day. The ruddy sands did not move a centimeter. The sky was a gorgeous expansion of nothingness. Cyril sat on a protruding rock that made an excellent chair. In his hands he held a thin paperback and he was staring intensely at it. He shook his head and flipped the page idly. The title of the book was The Martian Chronicles. “Ah, Bradbury, I am so glad I can read you.” Cyril sighed happily. Now that he was a Seraph again, he had eyes and could read his beloved Bradbury novel, The Martian Chronicles, on Mars itself! How exciting. Cyril began to read some of his favorite quotes out loud.
“There was a smell of Time in the air tonight. He smiled and turned the fancy in his mind. There was a thought. What did time smell like? Like dust and clocks and people. And if you wondered what Time sounded like it sounded like water running in a dark cave and voices crying and dirt dropping down upon hollow box lids, and rain. And, going further, what did Time look like? Time look like snow dropping silently into a black room or it looked like a silent film in an ancient theater, 100 billion faces falling like those New Year balloons, down and down into nothing. That was how Time smelled and looked and sounded. And tonight-Tomas shoved a hand into the wind outside the truck-tonight you could almost taste time.”
“Science is no more than an investigation of a miracle we can never explain, and art is an interpretation of that miracle.”
Cyril sighed, he loved that quote. It was just so true. He read on.
“Garrett," said Stendahl, "do you know why I've done this to you? Because you burned Mr. Poe's books without really reading them. You took other people's advice that they needed burning. Otherwise you'd have realized what I was going to do to you when we came down here a moment ago. Ignorance is fatal, Mr. Garrett.”
This was one of Cyril’s favorite bits. You see, in the book, a great book burning had occurred in which all fantasy and fiction was eliminated. However, Mr. Stendahl was alive during the book burning and had owned an extensive collection and was a huge fan of Edgar Allen Poe’s works which had been burned. Mr. Stendahl had come to the new colony on Mars and built the House of Usher and filled it with fantasy characters, despite it all being quite illegal. He invited many people to come and killed them all, replacing them with robots. An inspector came to Mars and was ready to demolish the House of Usher, however, Mr. Stendahl managed to take the inspector on a tour, all the while making dark and obvious references to the Cask of Amontillado, and lead the inspector into the cellar. There he chained the inspector onto wall and finished the wall in front of the inspector- sealing him in. This was the last thing Mr. Stendalh said before leaving the inspector to die in the demolition. It was a really good scene, Cyril thought.
With a snap, Cyril closed his book and teleported to Heaven. It was that time of the week again and he had to go collect the dragon balls before those irritating Oneiroi gathered them all and used them against Cyril and all of Heaven. This was beginning to become a bit of a nuisance. Cyril was also beginning to run out of valid wishes. After this set he couldn’t think of anything he needed anymore. For this set of wishes he would wish for power twice over and then he would be at his full one hundred million power level. After that he would set about realizing all his transformations, and if his calculations were correct, he would be around three hundred sixty million power level. He would be unassailable! Quite unlike every hive Cyril came to. Every time he happened upon one he would raze it to the ground with ease and take their dragon ball. He came upon the last one, burned it, and then found the last dragon ball.
Word Count: 707
