Progress

The room was square. Small. Wooden panels took up the lower half of the walls; the top half was simply painted white. On the right most wall was a door that interrupted the wooden panels and the white of the wall. The door matched the panels. To the left of the door was a hat rack. This also matched the panels.

In the center of the hard wood floor were two strait backed chairs. They faced each other. One was empty. In the other sat a creature.

At first Glance the creature was human. Two arms, a head, two legs protruded from all the right places to meet the criteria some would give for being a human. It sat in the chair still and dignified. Back strait against the chair back, hands crossed in its lap. Waiting.

It wasn't until one observed the being more closely that it was obvious that it was not human at all. It changed, constantly. Its shape was continually moving and minute changes were always being made. From small shivering waves that moved along his head to appendages absorbing back into the body it was attached to only to be replaced by a new one. Minute details were what changed the most, the quickest.

As the creature sat there changing, and staring over the chair that was in front of him and directly into the wall behind it as if he knew the entire story of the wall, from its conception to its creation and even its destruction. The look was as intimate as anyone could look at a wall.

The door opened. A man entered swiftly, closed the door behind him, and reached out his arm and put the hat he held onto the hat rack. He was handsome, dressed in that white collar with a tie way. Under his other arm he held a small rectangular box. It appeared to be wooden, had two small hinges, and on the top of the box there was an emblem.

The Emblem was mettle and ridged. Cold. It was a circle and inside were two smaller circles that touched each other.

The man briefly looked at the creature in the chair, smiled just as briefly, and walked toward the empty chair. He sat down, placed the box in his lap, and looked directly into the eyes across from him.

"You say you are called Progress" the man said.

"I am. What are you called, little man?" The creature spoke the words with the tiniest voice, polite and sincere with the question.

The man paused as if to think, and then replied. "I am Quinton. Quinton Harrison."

The creature nodded as if to thank Quinton for obliging his question. "How can I help you?"

"What are you?" Quinton asked. "Where do you come from?"

Progress leaned back as the ever changing feature that most resembled a mouth formed into smile. "They say I was created when two stars collided. They were my mother and father. They collided the most intimate way parents can. After years, when all of the remnants cleared, I was left a huddled mass that was like a child still in the womb."

He paused, started again voice as tiny as the first word he had spoken. "Then I spread. I awoke finally. Years after my conception, I moved. The knowledge that I was a force above nature guided me. I saw the whole of purpose. I could see what needed to be done. I could see how to make. . ." he paused, "everything better."

Quinton kept his eyes on Progress. He watched the small changes in the creatures figure. "Why that form? You change all the time. Why do you keep the human frame?"

"It is the form I was born with. It is the most efficient form in the universe. Do you not agree?" the voice said still calm.

"I have grown fond of the form, yes." Quinton said as he looked at his own arms realizing how perfect the human form was. "What did you do then?"

Progress hummed as he thought about the question. His face almost glowed. Quinton imagined it to be a glow inherited from the stars Progress claimed to have spawned him.

"I sat out to improve all that was. I found planets and watched them. For hundreds of years I watched them. I watched as the inhabitants started civilizations, as they rose and fell, and eventually watched as planets exploded. I watched as every inhabitant died. It was only to fulfill the purpose. I enjoyed it."

"Purpose? What purpose" Quinton said almost franticly.

"The purpose of Progress. I cause the whole system."

"Its murder." Quinton screamed now enraged.

Progress came back, "Calm your self. I am above nature. Above creation and destruction, therefore the laws of man do not apply to me. Like every force I have a purpose."

"You are not a force. You are an accident. A freak of nature."

"Little man, you can't deny forces."

"Do you feel remorse?" Quinton was calm again.

"Remorse, how do you mean?"

"Do you feel remorse for those you kill?" Quinton said sympathetically.

"No." Progress staggered. Pause. "Not until recently." Progress lowered his head, taking his eyes from Quinton's for the first time.

"What happened?"

"I was watching a star liner. I watched it begin its voyage. I followed it, and before it reached its destination the thrust of the engine reversed causing an explosion. Every one of the 12,000 passengers died. I caused it."

"Why?"

"I don't know it was not my plan, not part of the purpose."

Quinton looked across to the creature in front of him. It was now in the least human state Quinton had seen it in. "You have the wrong name Progress. You think you're the wrong force. You should be called death."

"LIAR" for the first time the tiny voice was gone and replaced with anger. I make success. I know what should be and will be. All things Past present and future THUS IS PROGRESS. I foresee a time when I shall be worshiped as a GOD."

"You're a mistake, Progress. I can make the hurt, remorse go away."

The tiny voice returned "Why would I want that? I foresee the end of this planet. Why do you think I am here? I have been watching this planet, your people for thousands of years. I caused plague, famine, and disasters. Its time is up."

"You want the cure because you can't take the pain. You don't want to go on knowing you killed thousands and thousands of people. Why? Because you have a conscience. Because you weren't born by two stars colliding. You don't maintain human form because it's efficient; you have it because it is how you were created. It was an accident, you were human."

Like a crack of a whip the anger was back, "You Lie, I form a purpose. My parents were stars. I exist because I am above nature. I am . . ." Progress stopped and looked at Quinton.

Quinton silently picked up the box from his lap and pointed the emblem toward Progress.

"What is that?" Progress demanded. The anger in his face turned to fear, "So familiar." All expression left him and he began to stare even harder at the box.

"It's your cure, Progress. This box is the result of your own work." Quinton answered. "You were a scientist. Yow were in a protected space station between two suns." He paused to begin unlatching the box. "The two suns collided at the point of your Space station. You weren't meant to live. Something kept you from dieing, and you became an accident a freak of nature immortal by all accounts."

"You lie" the creature spat. "Even if it were true I still exist."

"No you don't." Quinton opened the box and pointed the opening toward progress.

A brilliant light shone on to progress. The anger in his face melted away and was replaced by happiness, a child's face. It was the face of a human, no longer changing, now constant, his true face, the face of an ancient brilliant man. "It worked I harnessed the power of a sun." The eyes looked up over the lid of the box to meet Quinton's gaze. "Thank you"

Progress disappeared.

The blaze of light vanished into the final crevice of the box as it closed.

"Your welcome" Quinton said.