SPOOF OF THE WEEK

The Invention Of Land Creatures

Part Seven of The Invention of Everything;
An Eyewitness Account

Continuing Readers: Please, page down past the brief material in italics.

New Readers: If you missed a previous part, you’ll find it appended after Part Seven. Here’s the brief introduction to these remarkable notes, repeated for your convenience.

An unexpected manuscript showed up in our inbox. We were immediately convinced of its authenticity and decided we had to share it with you. It was accompanied by the following note:

“Hi, there. How’s life working out? Who am I? That’s for me to know and for you to guess. Let me just say that I witnessed the invention of everything. And I kept good meeting notes.

"I wanted every planet to come with an instruction manual, but my suggestion was a nonstarter. I decided the next best thing I could do is release my notes. I hope they help clarify things for you.

"I sent them by Multi-Verse Mail to all the planets projected to have life on them that could read. As far as the earth goes, I addressed it to NewsLugh.com. I figured it would exist about the time the news would come in especially handy. Why a humor magazine? Hey, I think I’m a bit of humorist myself.

"Sorry, but I have to be a little vague about the participants in the meeting, because they’re all very high up the totem pole of the universe and like to keep out of the spotlight. But I assure you that my notes are accurate.

"I thought I’d start with the invention of sex, since that seems to be the foundation of a lot of things. This particular invention was a tough one because we weren’t sure how to make it work.

"For instance, some of the participants wanted direct physical contact. Others thought the male could mail his sperm to the female, and she could deposit it in an egg bank.

"Direct contact between the two, though it seemed like a daring idea at first, won on its overall merits.

"Then the question became, should it feel good or not? I’m happy to say that feeling good won by a unanimous vote. After all, we want you to like us.

"Looking back, I think we made the right decisions, not only about sex, but about everything. And, speaking of everything, you'll find how it was invented in my notes, too, or, at least, the highlights, like land and water, air, heat and light, water and air creatures, land creatures, and details like food, gravity, and magnetism.

"I hope my doodles help you understand why things are the way they are and appreciate our handiwork. Nothing would make me happier.

"In conclusion, I just want you to know we did our best, and I sure hope you like us for what we decided.”

The Invention of Land Creatures

Part Seven of The Invention of Everything;
An Eyewitness Account

When today’s meeting began, there was a special excitement in the air. We had invented the creatures that would go in the water and the air. Now, we were going to invent the land creatures. Once we decided on them, we’d have creatures for all the places where there would be places for them.

“Today’s the big day. We finish inventing creatures. Did you bring any prototypes?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Excellent. Why don’t you take the lead?”

“Thank you. I’ll get to the examples I brought in a moment, but first I’d like to give you an overview of what we have in mind in tech.”

“Please, go ahead.”

“Thank you. As I said in the previous meeting, we plan to utilize the creatures we already have in the water to get some up onto the land.”

“Can you provide some specifics?”

“Of course. Since we already have creatures in the water and in the sky, guess what? Some of them are already spending some time walking on the land.”

“How do they get there?”

“How else? They’re walking around on the bottom of the water. Sometimes, they walk out onto the beach.”

“Makes sense. Can you provide a for instance?”

“Sure. Lobsters.”

“Yes, I can see that.”

“And remember the water birds? Sometimes they fly onto the land.”

“I assume they would.”

“But now we get to the key event. We have these fish that would like to get up onto the land but they can’t.”

“Why not?”

“They don’t have legs.”

“Oh, right. Just tails they wiggle back and forth against the water.”

“Right, but they have one other ingredient that helps them keep their balance.”

“What’s that?”

“Fins.”

“Fins?”

“Yes. We derived the terminology from 'fish inserts.' Now, the fish I’m talking about keep poking their heads out of the water near the land and thinking, Wow, what a lot of uninhabited real estate. It looks inviting, too, because by now we have the land plants.”

“How did we get those?”

“Remember the plants in the water?”

“Yeah.”

“We decided some of them could wash up onto the land and start to grow there. We also plan to have water birds bring some of the seeds and scraps farther inland on their feet. The wind will help out, too.”

“How can water plants grow on the land?”

“What? You think we programmed dumb plants? They’re not only made up of our perfectly responsive atoms and molecules; they consist of plant cells, which know they’re in a do-or-die situation. So they do what we call adopt the land. Excuse me, I mean, adapt to the land.”

“They adapt, not adopt?”

“Well, whatever. Let me put it this way. They behave like orphans who want to be adopted and make all the changes they have to so they can be at home on the land.”

“Smart. So we have plants.”

“Right. And these fish, longing to get up onto the land. For a long time, all they can do is flap their fins. But over a few eons their bodies realize that the fins have to change into – “

“– legs!”

“Right. Neat, huh?”

“Solid, baby.”

“Thanks. So they become what we call amphibians, as in 'I am not fibbing; I have legs and can travel in the water and on the land.' Eventually, some of them like it on land so much they decide to stay there. Since they don’t need to swim anymore, some would even lose the ability.”

“So now we have our first dedicated land creatures?”

“Yes, we do.”

“What happens next?"

"Simple as a dimple. They get together to reproduce and over time they diversify into creatures that fit into every little niche where they can find what they need, principally, food, water, and, of course, mates.”

“Can we see some examples?”

“Sure. Mind if I use projections for the first land creatures. They’re too big to get into the room.”

“Why so big?”

“We figure they can sort of tamp down the land for the ones that come later.”

“Good thought.”

“Now, this is what we call a brontosaurus.”

“Wow, is that to scale?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry. It’s a vegetarian. But adaptation to land entails a response to all the forms of available food. So here we have something called tyrannosaurus rex.”

“Would you look at those choppers?”

“Yeah. It’s a meat eater.”

“Are you sure you didn’t overdo it? I wouldn’t want to meet up with that guy or gal on a hike in the woods.”

“Well, the first two I showed you are extremes. There are all kinds of the same sort of creatures in between. We call the collection dinosaurs.”

“Dinosaurs?”

“Yeah. It stands for ‘dine on anything.' The important item to note is the trend.”

“What’s that?”

“We intend to start with really big creatures that are just smart enough to enjoy life’s basic pleasures – like being aware of their environment, getting around in it, eating, and reproducing.”

“Then?”

“Over time we plan to have creatures that will be smaller but, in some cases, smarter. Eventually, we expect to have one kind of creature that can even begin to appreciate what we’ve invented.”

“Really? Now, that’s interesting. Is there a specific way you measure the difference in intelligence between the dinos and the appreciators?”

“We have a benchmark.”

“May I ask what it is?”

“Yeah. Enough intelligence to have fire trucks.”

“Why fire trucks?”

“Well, remember that the earth is still hot in the middle?”

“OK.”

“And it is, in its own way, really alive – all these atoms and molecules, vibrating and moving around, and it’s warm, not stone cold all the way through. So, like any living thing, it keeps changing. For instance, the land that’s under the water sometimes gets to spend time being the tops of mountains, and the tops of mountains get to spend time being the bottom of the water.”

“How does that happen?”

“The land is floating around on the molten center.”

“Molten?”

“It’s just a fancy word Morton invented for 'melted.' As I noted in a previous meeting, the center of the agglomeration is hot enough to melt steel. In fact, it’s made of melted steel.”

“Heavy thought. What do you call the land that’s floating around on top of it?”

“Plates.’”

“Plates?”

“Yeah. But no relation to dinner plates. Much, much bigger. Anyway, as they move around, they rub against each other, slide under each other, etc., and, in the process, they form dips where the water goes and crinkles that become mountains.”

“Neat process. I can see the whole thing right now. What about the creatures? How do they take the ride?”

“It happens so slowly they don’t even know about it, that is, until we get the smarter creatures, who may figure it out. But even they don’t experience much of a disturbance, especially when you consider the entire gizmo is spinning around itself, circling the source of the heat and light, and moving out from where it started.”

“When we staged the birth of the universe?”

“Right.”

“I love that phrase. It’s so touching.”

“Me, too. I think it has to do with the word 'birth.' Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to the creatures.”

“Don’t let me stop you.”

“Thanks. Now, as part of our principle of infinite appropriate or, at least, feasible variety, once in a while things get too hot.”

“How?”

“Oh, various ways. The melted steel under a mountain might build up some pressure and blow its top.”

“Don't tell me. And out comes the melted steel?”

“With lots of flying rocks and ashes. Anyway, over time, the entire mess can cool down and become new land.”

“Very good. Fresh real estate.”

“Always. There’s only one complication, which brings us to the fire trucks.”

“What’s that?”

“Some of the plants will catch on fire.”

“Can’t you just have some water show up and put it out?”

“Yes, we can. You remember rain?”

“Yeah.”

“If it happens to fall back down where there’s a fire, it can put it out. Otherwise, we’d have to have something unnatural happen. I think we decided that once we launch the thing, we let ‘er rip.”

“Right. We’re quality builders. I insist that the universe we invent can function on its own. When it rolls out of here, it’s history.”

“Absolutely. No mechanic in the trunk, at least, that’s the goal.”

“Of course. Can we get back to the fire?”

“Yep.”

“What happens?”

“Usually, it just burns until there aren’t anymore plants near enough to catch on fire.”

“Sounds like a big fire. We don’t want too, too many. I want the creatures to have nice lives, at least, overall.”

“I know you do, and we keep that goal constantly before us.”

“Any other thing that can cause them?”

“Yes, there is. The heat and light we put up in the sky can dry the plants out, especially when the rain doesn’t fall for a long time, so they can catch on fire even without a mountain losing its top. Finally, a really big event we settled on has a place in the mix.”

“What’s that?”

“Remember when we decided that the dust we’re using to make the agglomerations wouldn’t all go into picture-perfect planets?”

“Right. A lot of the unused stuff would still be floating around. It felt more natural to have some of this and some of that.”

“Exactly. Anyway, the space we’re working with, especially in terms of a source of heat and light and the planets that spin around it, is limited. So inevitably one of these pieces of leftover stuff and a planet would attempt to occupy the same space at the same time.”

“Uh, oh. You mean they’d bang into each other.”

“Seems like an inevitable intersection to me.”

“That’s correct. All our mathematical models show it has a place in the mix. Of course, once in a while, the piece of leftover building material would be pretty big, so there would be quite an impact. It could cause a fire, too.”

“I’ll bet. Might even knock some of the molten stuff out of the center of the planet, right?”

“Yeah. Suddenly, volcanoes and plant fires all over the place.”

“And still no fire trucks?”

“Unfortunately, not at this stage. But actually that’s part of the plan.”

“How so?”

“Well, by the time one of these giant pieces of leftover material slams into a planet, the big initial creatures would have been around for quite a few eons, and we’d like to make room for the smaller and, in some cases, smarter creatures.”

“We’re going to knock off all these big beauties?”

“How can we do that?”

“Well, think about it. The agglomeration is only so big, right? Nothing leaves, pretty soon there’s no room for anything new.”

“You’ve got a point there. So?”

“We went with the idea that each kind of creature would have a certain share of the overall lifespan of the agglomeration.”

“You mean all the creatures don’t last as long as the planet can play host?”

“Right. Everybody gets a share.”

“With plenty of time to do what each creature is most likely to do?”

“Exactly.”

“Sounds right. Anybody know how else to make room for new creatures?”

“What if we give the dinosaurs a means of transportation to another agglomeration?”

“First of all, we’d be interfering. And second of all, they won’t be smart enough to pilot them. I mean, you really have to get into this thing unfolding in a natural way or all kinds of complications start to arise.”

“OK, OK. Then it’s settled. After the dinos have been around for a long time –"

“– I absolutely insist on being generous. How about 100 million years or so?”

“We took your always benevolent inclinations into account. How about 150 million years?”

“Done. Go on. There’s a big fire.”

“And, as I said, there are no fire trucks. So the fires keep burning. The sky fills with smoke. Not enough light and heat can get through it. The planet gets cold and the dinosaurs – “

“– don’t say that word. You know my position on that.”

“Right. The dinosaurs do not – whatever – they complete, or end, their lifespan on the particular agglomeration.”

“And all because they didn’t have fire trucks.”

“Yeah. Well, if we’re going to let a planet start from scratch and go through its lifecycle on its own, we can’t very well start with a big red fire truck sitting there, and the dinosaurs driving them around.”

“Doesn’t seem at all like a natural development to me.”

“Please, continue. But remember. Never say ‘die.’”

“Believe me, I learned my lesson. Now, what’s the eventuality? You’ll be delighted to know that over time, and I mean a good deal of time, the smoke clears away and the dust settles back down. So the heat and light can get through again.”

“And the whole thing starts over again?”

“Almost. Some creatures will make the transition.”

“Good. But how do you plan to work that?”

“We figure that some of the water creatures will stay cool enough to make it. Of course, some of the ones that remain amphibians can skedaddle back into the water. And some of the smaller land creatures will find hideouts, especially the ones that don’t need too much heat or fresh air. We restart with those.”

“And?”

“Well, now that we’ve done big dumb, we think it’s time for small smart.”

“Seems like an appropriate variation. Where do we get the new critters?”

“Well, after the big fire and the clearing sky, the conditions are a bit different. Naturally, some of the creatures start changing into whatever’s just right.”

“In what sense?”

“Well, for instance, if we’re going to have smarter creatures, they have to be able to do more than walk around and grab food. So the smarts we programmed into them will go to work and develop, not only feet, but hands.”

“Really? They’re going to have those, too?”

“Got another way for them to have something that helps them do more with their increasing intelligence?”

“I think you’re right. Please, proceed.”

“So here’s the deal. They sit around all day and try to do more and more with these hands. Some of them finally even develop what we call a thumb.”

“A thumb?”

“Yeah. We took it from the thought, When a creature has one of these, it won’t be dumb.”

“Thumb, not dumb?”

“Right.”

“I like that."

"Me, too."

"Good. Let me show you what I mean. I have a mockup. See, four things we call fingers and this fifth thing we call a thumb."

"Interesting development. Keep going.”

“Well, watch this. See how the thumb works with the four other fingers. Neat, huh?”

“Whoever would’ve thought just one more digit could make such a big difference?”

“Yeah. And imagine looking at your hands all day and thinking, I know I can do a lot of things with these, but I just don’t seem to have enough brains. And what happens? You got it! The thought sends a signal to the brain: Can you please get smarter? And, over time, guess what? The brain catches on and meets the request.”

“Wow. How?”

“It develops into a more complex central processor.”

“Of course. Excellent.”

“Thanks. Now, let me show you some examples of smarter creatures. They’re waiting outside. OK, you can come in now. Please, if you’ll just stand right here. I’ll take the one that’s in the cage. See this one? One of the first to develop with feet and hands. We call it a monkey.”

“A monkey?”

“Yeah. The ‘mon’ part stands for “moronic by comparison” with some of the later creatures but the ‘key’ stands for the fact that it's the key to getting significantly brighter creatures.”

“'Mon-key? Nifty.”

“Glad you approve. Anyway, since the monkeys are the first ones with feet and only pretty functional hands, they aren’t that smart, so they don’t listen well. That’s the reason for the cage. But as you can see, all the other ones understand enough to listen. Excuse me. Could you please arrange yourselves in order of appearance? Thank you. See how they gradually change from looking more like the monkey until we get to this guy and gal, who look the least like the little guy in the cage?”

“Suddenly, so little hair. Why so?”

“Oh, it seems like a less beastly motif. But notice that they have plenty on top and a sparse distribution elsewhere. We were trying to differentiate the new series, and the first thing we thought of is, Hey, why not let them stand on their own two feet, to free their hands up completely. But they still looked pretty much the same. Then we noticed the obvious. They were all covered with about the same amount of hair. From then on it was a no-brainer. We decided to take the wrapping off and saw right away that more brains, less hair seemed like a natural marker.”

“I can see that. Won’t they get cold?”

“At times, but, hey, they’re smart, right?”

“So they figure out how to cover themselves with things.”

“Yes, they do.”

“Talk a little about those two at the head of the line.”

“You used the right word.”

“What, ‘head’?”

“Yeah. They’ve got some pretty good ones on their shoulders. You can say hello if you want to.”

“Hi, there.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Hold it. You mean they can even talk like us?”

“Hey, why not? We figured, How smart can they be if they can’t talk?”

“Gotcha.”

“Wonderful. I just love that idea. Land creatures that can talk just like us!”

“Fantastic! You guys in tech never cease to amaze me.”

“We do our best. You can go now. And please take the monkey with you. Thanks. OK, that’s the top line on the land creatures, at least, as far as we need to go into it at this session. Of course, there'll be whole lot of smaller creatures, like bugs and worms. But they're a given. ”

"I think you covered those sufficiently in the previous session. Anything else?"

“I'd just like to ask if you're planning for even smarter creatures than this last group?"

“Right now they're just a hypothesis. I think we want to see how the last entry in the series does."

"The couple at the head of the line?"

"Yeah. We think they'll be smart enough to manage. If they turn out to be unequal to the challenge of life with thumbs and bigger brains, they're programmed to request an improvement.”

“Good. I need you to get the whole thing right from the get-go.”

“We are doing our very best. Anybody need anymore detail on the land creatures?”

“Exactly how smart are the latest thumb creatures?”

“Well, you know, as the saying goes, ‘Vanitas, even among the Gods.’”

“'Toss' what?”

“Translation, ‘vanity.’”

“Oh. What, we have a weakness?”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but after all the work we’re putting into inventing the universe, we thought there should at least be one creature who’s smart enough to appreciate our handiwork and even understand a certain amount of it.”

“Well, the potential is there, so realizing it seems more right than just pretending it’s not a possibility.”

“Actually, I don’t see any downside.”

“Well, let’s talk about that. All the creatures, wherever they are, will be able to appreciate what we did to a certain extent, won’t they? I mean, they’ll be alive. They’ll see, hear, feel, smell, and taste things. They’ll reproduce. Sleep, wake. The usual drill.”

“Yeah, but most of them aren’t going to be able to think about their own lives by standing outside of themselves and saying, ‘Hey, look at me. I’m a monkey in the woods. What should I do with my life?’”

“No?”

“No. They’ll just be into enjoying life in all the basic ways, mostly physical with enough mental ability to get done whatever they’re capable of.”

“I think you’re saying that the smartest ones will have the capacity to think about their own lives?”

“Yes, we are.”

“Will they even be able to decide whether or not they like our handiwork?”

“I think we should give that a go.”

“I’d say they’re all bound to think, Wow, look at the land, the water, the sky, the heat and light, the plants, the other creatures, and I get to be part of it, so aren’t I lucky? So they’re bound to like us.”

“Well, I think we should have the courage to let them make up their own minds. You just know there will be some dissenters.”

“I suppose, and, going back to our variety principle, I think you're right. Let them decide for themselves, regardless of where they come out.”

“I concur. As soon as we slap a restraint on them, it’s like we don’t trust our own craftsmanship and, out of respect for the ladies in the lab and right here in this room, our craftswomanship.”

“Well said.”

“Thanks. As I mentioned earlier, we’d even like them to be able to discover how things work. In fact, if you don’t mind, we’d like to give them enough intelligence to become scientists.”

“Now that is a bit of vanity, making them scientists, too.”

“You’ll have to excuse me, but we really like the idea.”

“I’ll go for it as long as we can have some esthetically minded creatures among them. You know I’m a beauty maven.”

“I want all kinds of variations. So there we have it – scientists, artists, and, of course, plenty of folks just to enjoy what those two groups manage to do."

"Don't forget business types. Somebody's got to support all this science and art."

"Of course. But go on. I’d like to know just how much these creatures will be able to understand?”

“We thought we’d be daring and let them figure out anything about the universe."

"Anything? I don't know about that."

"I mean, such as what it’s made of and how it works.”

“How about how it got there?”

“From what we decided to call the birth of the universe on.”

“You mean, we limit it to the post partum stuff?”

“Right. What about why it’s there in the first place?”

“There will be limits, and we're going to give them a pet that helps them understand their situation."

"What kind of pet?"

"We call it a dog."

"A dog?"

"Yeah."

"How does it help?"

"When these creatures talk to it, it will have this ability to cock its head to the side, like this, and look at them as if it's trying to understand. But they'll realize it never really does. It just looks that way."

"And that reminds them of their own situation in terms of the questions we decide are beyond them?"

"Right. They'll know they're not alone with certain limits. But now we've gotten into material I'd like to reserve for our question and answer period.”

“I agree. I think we’ve done enough for today. Between the ones in the water, the sky, and on the land, my mind is literally overrun with creatures. Anything else you want to say before we close the meeting?”

“Only that we’ve really had a great fun thinking them all up.”

“The work shows it. You really got into it. Before we adjourn, may I ask what’s on tap for next session, which, I assume should be our last, at least, on this project?”

“It should be. We just have to settle on some details, like gravity and magnetism, after which we’ll have our Q & A session? Then I think it’ll be a wrap.”

“Sounds like a plan. Extraordinary effort. I think we’re on our way to a promising universe. See you all tomorrow for our final and, I trust, infinitely satisfying meeting.”

So now we had invented the creatures. Thinking back over the developments, I never would’ve thought so much would depend on fire trucks. The next session looked like the last one we’d need before we moved into major production and distribution. After the Q & A period, I planned to bring up my idea that every planet where life can develop should come with an instruction manual. I haven’t got a clue how the idea will go over. But I’m hoping for a green light.

By Tom Attea

The Invention of Water And Air reatures

Part Six of The Invention of Everything;
An Eyewitness Account

Now, the stage was set. We had land, water, the sky, heat and light, and our first invention, a way for whatever creatures we would invent to reproduce and have a great time doing so. Now, we were ready to develop the actual creatures who would inhabit the invention. Today we were scheduled to start with the ones that would go in the water and air.

“I want to congratulate everybody for your work so far. It’s because of your dedication and contributions that we can now invent the creatures who will inhabit the universe. I understand you brought some prototypes.”

“Yes, I did. I thought some samples would be helpful.”

“Excellent. Is there any special way you’d like to proceed?”

“Actually, there is.”

“How so?”

“From the bottom up.”

“Where’s the bottom?”

“Didn’t we say the water would go where it’s low?”

“Yes, we did.”

“So what could be lower than the bottom of the water?”

“Not much, at least, as far as creatures are concerned.”

“Good. Then let’s follow your lead and start there. What do you have?”

“To get things started, hot water.”

“Way down there? I didn’t know the heat we’re putting way up in the sky would get down that far?”

“It doesn’t. This heat comes from way down under.”

“Can you elaborate?”

“Sure. When the original agglomerations we decided to call planets take shape, they’re really hot items. In fact, during the first few billion years or so, you wouldn’t want to sit down on one.”

“That hot, huh?”

“Enough to melt steel.”

“So what happens?”

“What else? Over the millennia, they cool down, I mean, at least on the surface, or else where are the creatures going to be comfortable?”

“Got ya.”

“I see where you’re going. There’s still heat toward the middle that finds its way out.”

“Right. And, of course, that leads to – “

“– hot water!”

“Which facilitates the socializing of the atoms and molecules.”

“Ah, ha! So we have a hot time in the old water tonight.”

“If you need to look at it that way. Anyway, the water’s boiling hot, the atoms and the molecules are rubbing up against each other and combining this way and that. And out of this really happening whirlpool bath of attraction and repulsion we get molecular couples, families, extended families, etc.”

“And then?”

“Eventually, they combine into creatures that are just right for the environment.”

“Got a name for that?”

“Yeah. We call it ‘Survival Of The Ones That Fit.’”

“Sounds right. Go on.”

“Mind if I go to the tank?”

“Please. But I’d like to move through this aspect of creatures. I’m looking forward to inventing the ones that go on land. I understand we plan to make some of them intelligent enough to understand a bit about what we plan to accomplish. ”

“Now, mustn’t jump ahead. The ones that go in the water and in the sky are every bit as important.”

“Fine. Tech will be tech. Go ahead.”

“Here we have something that actually lives under the bottom. “

“Under it?”

“What? You want to waste all that room?”

“No way. I want creatures wherever they can fit.”

“That’s the principle we’re working with down in the lab: maximum appropriate variety.”

“My sentiments exactly. What do you call that creature?”

“A sandworm. Of course, there are different kinds, but let’s just group them under the heading 'sandworms.'”

“Gotcha.”

“We’ve also got all kinds of sand bugs.”

“I might have guessed. I think we can allow you to work out the details on those. Just stay pretty much with six legs for all those whatchamacallits?"

"Insects. Will do. Mind if some can walk and fly?"

"Sounds like a good mix. What’s next?”

“Well, right here we have, as you’ll notice, a prototype that’s standing on the bottom without moving.”

“What do you call that?”

“Actually, we have two types. This green one that’s just standing around is a typical example of what we decided to call a plant, in this case, seaweed. But notice this other critter that’s just standing on the rock, waving it’s colorful arms. It may look like a plant, but actually it’s what we intend to call an animal.”

“No kidding? I thought only plants were just going to stand around?”

“That was the original concept, but we thought about it and decided, Hey, why not have some rudimentary creatures that just sort of stand around, too?”

“Seems that there should be a place for such creatures. How does that one function?”

“See the tiny wavy things?”

“Yeah.”

“They’re called cilia. We talked about those when we discussed reproduction. Remember?"

"Who could forget? I think we all enjoyed that session."

"Enabled the entire thing we're inventing. But go ahead."

"You might like to know that the name 'cilia" is derived from the irrepressible thought that, vital as they are, they can at times look a bit silly, waving away with no apparent reason. In this case, waving them is actually how the creature attracts food.”

“Food?”

“As you remember, all the creatures need energy. And food is the way they’re going to get it.”

“Got a name for the process by which it locates and intakes food?”

“Yeah. We call it ‘Natural Food Selection.’”

“All right! Like it!”

“Thanks. For short, we call it ‘eating.’”

“Understood. Please, continue.”

“What’s that other thing stuck to the bottom?”

“This item with the round hands over itself?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s the middle ground. It can attach itself to something but it can also crawl around.”

“What do you call it?”

“These we call clams and these mussels.”

“What’s the diff’?”

“Well, the word ‘clam’ refers to a defensive tactic. Watch when I move my finger toward it. See how it clams up?”

“Neato. What about the other term?”

“That covers the means of locomotion. Notice this one that's on the move. See. It pokes out of the shell and kind of muscles its way around.”

“Interesting concept. What’s that creature crawling around on the bottom?”

“We call that a lobster.”

“Why is that?”

“You see these sharp, two-fingered hands? They use them to lob food around. Ergo, lobsters.”

“How can something that moves that slow possibly get food?”

“The plan is it eats things that fall to the bottom.”

“Dead things?”

“I asked you not to use that word. Remember, anything that lives never dies. It just completes its life.”

“How about just “ends it’?”

“Whatever, as long as you don’t say ‘die.’ What an injustice to the whole process. As the creatures live, they save their lives. So they don’t just die. Got it?”

“Yes, boss. Sorry about that.”

“Please, go on.”

“OK. So this guy or gal just crawls around on the bottom and eats things that fall there.”

“You seem to have this part of the water pretty much under control. Can we move on from the bottom?”

“I have a few more things to cover.”

“Sounds like more detail work. Take care of it down in the lab.”

“No problem. Next, we have the things that get around by the process I noted at an earlier meeting, called ‘swimming.’ Anybody need a review?”

“I think we all remember. You can continue.”

“OK. See all these colorful little guys and gals. They’re what we call fish.”

“Fish?”

“Yeah. It’s a combo we worked out from the wish that we could come up with creatures that can move through the water really fast, even though it's quite thick, say, in comparison with air. So 'fast' plus ‘wish’ led to ‘fish.’"

"Works for me.”

“Me, too. And the fish swim?”

“Right.”

“Why only little ones?”

“We’re limited by how big a tank I could get in here.”

“Of course.”

“We're also working on a whale of a demo tank ."

"Good. Look forward to seeing your work as it evolves."

"Fortunately, the bigger ones function pretty much the same way as the little ones. For instance, see how they're wiggling their tails back and forth?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s the principle behind all of them, no matter how big they get.”

“I remember. They push the water this way and that with their tails and the water pushes back, so they go forward?”

“Right on, baby! Except when you get to most of the biggest creatures in the water.”

“What happens then?”

“They move their tails up and down. We thought it was a necessary variation.”

“I’ll go along with that. You were talking about developing a way for the creatures in the water to breathe. How’d you manage that?”

“Gil had an insight, so we call it gills. Let me take this little fella out and demonstrate for a moment. Excuse me, he’s kind of feisty. Got ya! OK, now look here. See these little red things just behind its head.”

“Yeah. Those the gills?”

“Right.”

“How do they work?”

“The fish uses its mouth and these flaps to move water over them, and the little red wonders nip out the O2 and give back CO2.”

“Which the plants in the water can’t wait to breathe in?”

“Exactamundo! Now, I can go into detail as long as you want me to, but that’s basically what happens in the water. Just let me remind you about the stuff that floats on it. Remember plankton?”

“Who could forget? We know. Elemental teamwork with the creatures that breathe in O2 and breathe out CO2. It breathes in CO2 and sends out O2.”

“Right. A lot, too, because there's going to be a lot of it. ”

“So let me recap. The whole shebang starts in hot water. Then we get creatures that inhabit every possible nook and cranny that can support them – under the bottom, on the bottom, above the bottom, and right on top. Am I right?”

“That about covers it. Of course, as the atoms and molecules respond, they can create quite an array of creatures. Our thoughts are still taking shape but overall we plan to provide for a perfectly flexible response, which, of course, would lead to perfectly appropriate variety. At least, that’s the plan. All the life that fits. ”

“Excellent. So have we covered the water creatures sufficiently?”

“Almost. We still have to talk about the creatures that swim on top of it and fly over it. That, of course, brings us to the air creatures. ”

“What do you call those?”

“Collectively, birds. These we named water birds.”

“They can actually float on the water and fly up into the sky? How so?”

“Let me move to the birdcage. Excuse me. I put this cover on them to keep them quiet. See. The plan is that they develop these big flat hands that they wave back and forth. In the process, they beat against the air and the air beats back.”

“Sort of like the way swimming works?”

“Yeah, only a lighter take on it.”

“But how do they stay up there? Looks like a pretty plump critter just to be flitting around in the sky.”

“That was a real brain teaser. But we finally realized two things. First, we could give the air creatures hollow bones, which would be much lighter.”

“Good thought.”

“Yeah, but it still wasn’t quite enough. The thick hair that was intended to keep them warm weighed them down.”

“What hair? I don't see any of the usual type. ”

“I see you noticed. We developed this special kind of hair that would be lighter. “

“Interesting. But how so lighter? The strands look much thicker.”

“Yeah, but the main part is hollow.”

“Like the bones?”

“Right. We call them feathers.”

“Feathers, as in?”

“Flying in all kinds of weather.”

“Makes sense. I assume at some point they get tired of flying around?"

"Yes, they do."

"What do they do at that point."

"Land."

"I know we have land. I mean, what do they do? Come down onto the land?"

"Or the water. Either one. Oh, I should mention where they eat."

"I assume when they're not flying around?"

"Not necessarily. Remember I said we had bugs that go under the bottom of the water. Well, we also have bugs that go just about everywhere."

"Don't tell me, even in the sky?"

"Yeah. Wherever the little buggers can find a livable niche."

"And the birds can catch them even when they're both flying around?"

"Yeah. The aeronautical math was a bit challenging, but we were able to work out how the bird and the bug could intersect, even when the bug was doing everything possible to avoid the conjunction. Of course, life won't always be that challenging. The birds and the bugs will also be able to alight here and there and chow down."

"Sounds advisable. Anything else?”

Well, at some point we have to get creatures onto the land, and we thought, Wow, why not tap into the creatures that are already in the water?”

“Seems like the right tactic. But I think that moves us into the next meeting – the land creatures. Agreed?”

“Yep.”

“Inspired work. Really. Tell the people in tech I commend them."

"Thanks. I'll be sure to forward you compliment."

"Seems to me we now have a good handle on creatures that go in the water and the sky. Let’s adjourn for today. Tomorrow, we do the land creatures.”

So now we had made the big transition from setting the stage to starting to populate it. We had the water and the sky behind us, and the land creatures were just ahead. I kept wondering, What could go on the land that’s different from what we invented to go in the water and the sky? Oh, I suppose the unique attributes of life on land would do a lot to guide our thinking.

By Tom Attea

The Invention of Heat and Light

Part Five of The Invention of Everything; An Eyewitness Account

At our prior meeting, we realized that, once we had invented land, water, and the sky, we had the stage set, except we needed light. We also considered the advisability of including heat. In today’s meeting, we planned to work out the details.

“To get the meeting rolling, can we recap where we are?”

“Yes, boss. We decided we want the creatures to be able to see where they’re going, so we need light.”

“Go on.”

“We also decided we want them to be comfortable; ergo, we need heat.”

“Makes sense to me.”

“The suggestion was also made that we go for overheads, but there was concern that the sky could be too crowded. Tech assured us they had a way to combine light and heat into one thing.”

“OK, so let’s see if we can throw some light on the entire subject. You confident you can pull off the heat-and-light combo?”

“I think we’ve got a good handle on it. I believe I mentioned Helen’s idea of ‘fishin.’”

“I thought you were going to respell that to avoid confusion?”

“That was my intention.”

“How did you make out?”

“She was a little put off at first.”

“Did you take our suggestion that she could keep the sound of the word if she just spelled it differently?”

“Of course. But she told me that couldn’t possibly work.”

“Sounds like Helen. Why not?”

“Actually, for what is, I decided, a very understandable reason.”

“Please, explain.”

“She called it ‘fishin’ to differentiate it from another process we considered for heat and light, called ‘fission. As you know, the latter is a much clunkier process that entails breaking up this big item we call uranium, instead of combining Helen’s little H’s.”

“I’m sorry. I’m terminally confused.”

“Good. That’s actually part of the explanation.”

“What is?”

“Confusion.”

“Please, explain.”

“Sure. The two words that were under consideration, ‘fishin’ and ‘fission,’ already sound pretty much the same and are spelled differently. So that kind of stole our thunder.”

“Too bad.”

“Don’t sweat it. I told Helen I myself was actually a bit confused by her nomenclature.”

“And?”

“She made a comment I’d rather not repeat. But I decided the better part of valor was to gloss over the affront and attempt to cheer her up. So I said jokingly, ‘What if we take my confusion and make it part of a new name for your alternate process?’”

“I commend your patience. How did she react?”

“She was fine with that. It isn’t very often that your boss gives you the opportunity to have fun at his expense, right?”

“So what did you come up with?”

“’Fusion.’”

“I suppose that's intended to be a felicitous combination of her ‘fishin’ plus your ‘confusion’?”

“Yes, it is.”

“I think it's a neat name, especially considering you derived it from ‘confusion.’”

“Thanks.”

“It works for me, too. So let’s go with it. Can you provide some detail on the process?”

“Sure. As Helen sees it, two of her H’s combine.”

“Right.”

“Then two more combine.”

“Wait a minute. Why two and two?”

“To prepare for the big event.”

“What’s that?”

“Now, the two that combined first smack into the two that combined second.”

“And so?”

“What do you think?”

“Now we have four, right?”

“Not quite. That was a trick question.”

“What do you mean?”

“The really important thing is that we don’t quite get a total of four.”

“OK, let’s go with that. Now, two and two don’t make four? How can that possibly be right?”

“Not in this case, which only confirms that making ‘confusion’ part of the name was a brainstorm.”

“We’ll see about that. What do they make?”

“3.97.”

“Hold on. Two plus two now equals 3.97?”

“Well, in the part of the universe called heat and light.”

“Mind explaining that?”

“Not at all. When the two and two combine, the missing amount is transformed into the big event.”

“Which is?”

“Energy!”

“Energy? I thought we were talking about heat and light?”

“In this case, the energy comes out as heat and light.”

“Wow, terrific stuff. But, if what you’re saying is true, that means only .03 of the four H’s becomes energy. How good is that?”

“Actually, it’s astonishing.”

“Why is that?”

“It means the process can go on for as long as we need it to.”

“I’m sorry. Can I have some clarification here?”

“Gladly. First, you have to imagine the process happening all over this big round ball in the sky billions of time a millisecond. Then we get the two things we need.”

“Here we go again. And what do they add up to?”

“We’re not adding anymore. Just making a list. Mind if I go on?”

“Please, I can’t wait.”

“OK, so what do we get? Numero uno: lots and lots of heat and light. And, numero dos, a process that can go on and on.”

“I’m all for that. It goes perfectly with the entire invention.”

“And the reason is?”

“It produces all this energy with relatively little matter.”

“That seems like a very important matter. Like, how long?”

“Oh, depends on the size of the big round agglomeration. On average, ten billion or so years.”

“Wow, that’s plenty long. Are we going to make any creatures that last ten billion years?”

“Let’s just put it this way. They shouldn’t worry about heat and light. They’ll have plenty.”

“Besides, if they figure out how to last ten billion years, they should be able to figure out how to hop to one of the billions of planets we’re planning that will be near a star with lots of energy to spare, right?”

“One would hope. But let’s stay real. With ten-billion years worth of heat and light in the bank, I wouldn’t call running out their immediate concern.”

“A point well taken. Now, I notice you refer to this source of heat and light as a big round ball in the sky. I’m not sure you want such a thing to get too close to the planets, especially the ones with creatures on them. They could be toast. Am I correct?”

“Crispy critters. So we figure it should be some distance from the planets, in particular, the ones that are going to sprout life.”

“What? They can’t all sprout life?”

“How? If we put them too close together, they could bang into one another. So we figure the ones that are too close will be too hot, the ones that are too far away will be too cold, but the lucky one or ones that are just the right distance from the heat and light will be the right temp for the molecules and atoms to go to work and come up with actual creatures.”

“How about as the big round ball burns up? Won’t it cool down?”

“Good point. I think I know where you’re headed. Yeah, as things cool down, the planets closer in could sprout life, while the ones farther out could freeze up. Plenty of matter on every planet that’s rock-solid to start things cooking.”

“I love where you’re going with this. I’m a big advocate of your end benefit: Life in as many places as possible. I don’t want to waste anymore planets than we have to.”

“Excuse me. What do you mean, 'waste'? I’m not in the business of wasting entire planets.”

“What do you mean? How about the ones that are too hot or too cold for anything much to happen?”

“No, no, you’re not getting the whole picture. They help set up the balancing act that keeps the planets that can sprout life in the right position for all the good things to happen.”

“Oh, great. But don’t go overboard. I also like a lot of junk to be just there. It helps balance the stuff that’s really necessary.”

“Yeah, somehow allowing for just about everything – no junk, along with plenty of junk – feels more natural.”

“Agreed. So now we have a handle on heat and light. But I’ve noticed that you keep referring to this amazing item as a big round ball. Can’t we do a little better on the name?”

“Yes, sir. I’ll make a note.”

“Think about this. How many of them are there going to be in a system where you have planets swirling around them?”

“Pretty much only one to a group. Anything else seems unnecessary and could prove quite distracting.”

“I’m always for simplicity, as long as it works. So maybe you should work with that concept to come up with a name.”

“One?”

“Yeah.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“You’ll also want to work out a name for all of them collectively. I mean, you’ll have all these big bright things out there. The creatures look up. They see them. They need a name.”

“Oh, we already have the group name.”

“You do? Let’s hear it.”

“We’re worked with the word ‘far,’ because they’ll have to be far away.”

“Right.”

“Then we took the concept that they’ll be producing heat and light almost nonstop.”

“Yeah.”

“So we took the ‘s’ and the ‘t’ from ‘nonstop’ and came up with the name ‘star.'”

“’Far,’ ‘star’?”

“Right.”

“Meets with my approval. Why not just do the same thing with the name for one of them.”

“In what way?”

“I dunno. Maybe just take the ‘s’ and add it to ‘one.’”

“So we get ‘sone.'”

“Yeah.”

“Nice sound. Let me play with the spelling a little bit, and I’ll get back to you.”

“Sure.”

“Before we wrap, I want to return to an issue that came up during the last meeting.”

“What’s that?”

“The background color for the sky. You said it depended on how we work out heat and light.”

“Yep.”

“And?”

“We’re thinking sky blue.”

“Nice. Like it. But how do you get there?”

“The light comes down from what we’re calling the sone. It hits the air. Some of the light gets through and some doesn’t. What gets through looks blue.”

“Ah, ha! Got a name for that?”

“Diffraction.”

“Where did that come from?”

“We developed it out of the idea of a fraction of the light.”

“As in ‘da fraction?’”

“A bit hip-hoppy for me. But you can think of it that way if want to. Our real inspiration was the word 'dazzling.'"

"Oh. Mind if I stay with 'da fraction'? ”

"Entirely up to you."

“Settled. May I review the color scheme?”

“Go ahead.”

“Down we have brown; that’s the land. Up we have blue; that’s the sky.”

“Don’t forget the white and grey clouds.”

“Depending on how much water they’re lugging around?”

“Right.”

“OK, and in the water, we have clear.”

“Why clear?”

“So what’s swimming around in it can see where it’s going.”

“Good thought. Still sounds kind of plain.”

“Don’t forget. Now it can reflect the blue sky, or whatever other color happens to be up there.”

“OK, OK, that’s enough already with the color scheme. My planet is spinning from it all! I mean, my head.”

“All right, let me recap. We have this bright round thing up there that’s a star, which, in the singular, we’re referring to by the working name of the ‘sone.’ It produces heat and light for approximately ten billion years. So now, in terms of the entire setting, we have land, water, air, heat and light.”

“You got it.”

“Sounds like the stage is set to me.”

“Don’t tell me we can finally get around to what should be walking around on it?”

“Don’t forget swimming.”

“Right. Walking and swimming.”

“We also have other concepts.”

“Here we go again. Like what?”

“Flying.”

“Don’t tell me.”

“Come on, remember the sky? We’ll want something to make use of all that space, won’t we?”

“I can’t see the whole thing being there without something in it, can you?”

“Not really. But aren’t we’re starting to get into the next meeting? I suggest we adjourn for today. Excellent work and see you tomorrow.”

So one hot meeting came to an end. I don’t know. Sometimes you make just one addition to a plan and you feel entirely different about the whole thing. Once we had heat and light, I was really starting to warm up to the idea of the universe.

By Tom Attea

The Invention Of The Sky

Part Four Of The Invention Of Everything;
An Eyewitness Account

Once we invented water, we realized that for rain to work right we had to have a place for it to go up into and fall back down from. We settled on a working name called the sky and set aside today’s meeting to invent it. As usual, the CEO kicked off the discussion.

“We seem to be moving in the right direction. So far we’ve got –“

He pointed to my notepad.

“– sex, land, and water,” I recapped.

“Good. So let’s take up the sky. Any thoughts?”

“It can’t be too heavy.”

“Why not?”

“It’s going to be on top of everything else, isn’t it?”

“Good point.”

“It shouldn’t be too thick, either.”

“Why?”

“Getting around could be tough.”

“Agreed. But can we move on to what it should be?”

“Sure. Let's think about its functions.”

“As I noted in yesterday’s meeting, we need a place for water to go up into and come back down from.”

“So all we need is a big empty space?”

“Don’t jump to conclusions. You know I can’t stand empty spaces. As soon as I see one, I have this irresistible urge to fill it up with something. And I'm not about to settle for part-time content like rain."

“Good thinking, boss.”

“Well, that’s kind of the inspiration for our whole agenda, isn’t it? We decided that something is better than nothing.”

“Absolutely. How can nothing possibly compare with something?”

“Can we just move on with the matter at hand? Here’s this enormous space, called the sky. What goes in it, I mean, besides rain traffic?”

“Well, let’s think about the creatures we plan to invent. What could they use the sky for?”

“Excellent question. Here they are, alive. What do they need besides fresh water?”

“We have a concept called fresh air.”

“Air? Can you elaborate?”

“Sure. If they’re alive, they need all kinds of processes to keep them that way.”

“What are you thinking?”

“We’re developing a laundry list. I’ll share it with you in time. Right now, I’m only prepared to discuss how being alive might relate to the sky.”

“Go ahead.”

“Well, what happens when any kind of process goes on?”

“You tell me.”

“You need energy to power it.”

“I wish there was a way around that but I can’t think of any.”

“Don’t tell me we need to hook everything up with wires?”

“No, no, we’re way past that. We only need wires to hook them up inside.”

“What are you calling that wiring?”

“The nervous system. We’ll also need tubes to transport fluids. But more about those things later. Right now, let’s stick with energy.”

“OK, I’ll bite. How does the creature get it?”

“Internal combustion.”

“Go on.”

“It takes in things, which we’re putting under the general heading of food, and burns it up.”

“Without catching on fire?”

“Right. It’s a different kind of combustion. Totally flame-free. ”

“Interesting. How does it work?”

“Oh, it takes a lot of chemical processes, which we’re fleshing out in the lab. The relevant thing, in terms of the sky, is what do we need in it to faciitate combustion?”

“I know that. Two of the atomic thingamajigs Oscar invented.”

“O2?”

“Right. So think about this. If we put it in the sky, they can get it from there.”

“How? They reach up?”

“No, no. We have this really innovative idea called breathing.”

“Breathing?”

“Yeah, it’s a way to get the fresh air into each and every creature.”

“Good. How do you manage that?”

“We plan to provide them with various means – basically holes the O2 goes into and dedicated devices to get it to where it’s needed.”

“OK. So the O2 goes in. What happens next?”

“What else? It fuels the combustion.”

“Done. No point overworking the issue. Anything else to consider?”

“Well, there’s an esthetic matter. Should breathing take a major effort or be something that’s really easy?”

“As I see it, we can’t very well tire them out while they’re trying to get something they need to keep from getting tired.”

“Right. Then they might give up on breathing.”

“Yikes. What would happen if they did that?”

“No fuel, no processes.”

“That’s a major downside. We better make O2 very easy to get.”

“I agree. So the O2 goes in easy as can be, and we have combustion. But, as the saying goes, what goes in must come out, right?”

“With certain exceptions."

“So what comes out?”

“We figure a combo of Oscar’s O2’s and Chuck’s atomic invention.”

“How so?”

“Chuck devised a really efficient way for his gizmo to hook up with the O’s.”

“And so?”

“It comes out as Chuck One, plus Oscar Two.”

“That’s one ‘C’ and two ‘O’s’?”

"Right. In a word, CO2.”

“Like it. An epiphany of efficiency.”

“So let me get this straight. The O2 goes in. We have combustion. Then the CO2 comes out.”

“You got it.”

“So far, so good. I endorse cycles, since they can go on and on, which fits with our overall plan, right?”

“Yep.”

“Hold it. I think we skipped a step.”

“What?”

“Where in the heck does the O2 come from?”

“Good point. We need a source.”

“We’re thinking of a team effort.”

“In what sense?”

“Well, since the creatures need the O2, we need something to make it.”

“Any thoughts?”

“Of course. Do you think I’d come to the meeting unprepared?”

“Sorry. Don’t be so touchy, OK?”

“I’ll try, but I expect you to show a little respect.”

“Can we just move on?”

“All right. Now, we figure the neatest setup would be if they take the CO2 the other creatures are producing and, come on, come on, think about it.”

“They turn it back into O2?”

“Right.”

“Brilliant. We have creatures who need O2 and turn it into CO2, and we have these other creatures walking around who take CO2 and turn it back into O2?”

“Right, except we figure that the ones that take in the CO2 and make the O2 won’t be able to walk around.”

“Why not?”

“There might be disagreements. One half of the team could say, ‘Look, we produce all the O2, which you need like breath itself.’ And the other half could come back with, ‘Hey, we could say the same thing about the CO2.’ No need to set up a potential confrontation.”

“So the things that make the O2 just stand there?”

“Yeah. Or maybe wrap around a handy support item. The key thing is they wouldn’t have movable feet. In fact, just to be on safe side, we don’t even think they should talk.”

“They can’t walk or talk?”

“No. Got a problem with that?”

“How happy can they be?”

“Depends on how we structure their needs. If they can satisfy them, no reason they can’t be happy.”

“Fair enough. Are we talking about what’s on land and in the water?”

“Essentially. But when it comes to water the things that produce the O2 could also float around, as long as they don’t have feet or voices. “

“Got a name for this half of the team?”

“As a matter of fact, two names."

"I see you've really got a handle on this."

"Thanks. They’re such an essential part of the plan we thought we’d tie the nomenclature in with the word ‘plan.’”

“The way we did when we came up with ‘planets’?”

“Right. In fact, we took that word as our jumping-off point.”

“How so?”

“Since they’re not going to be everywhere, but only on planets that can support creatures, we thought, Why not just drop the ‘e’ from ‘planets?’”

“So we get ‘plants'?”

“Exactly.”

“Same thing goes for the ones on land and in the water, right? ”

“Oh, for sure, I mean, for the ones that just standing there. But we thought it would only be right to give the things that float around a slightly different name.”

“What did you settle on?”

“’Plankton.’”

“Why that?”

“We figured there’d be a ton of it, floating here and there.”

“I like it. Everybody for calling the part of the team that makes 02 ‘plants’ and ‘plankton,’ please raise your hands.”

“’Plants’ and ‘plankton’ they are.”

“So let's recap. We have the half of the team that that moves around taking in O2 and sending out CO2, right?”

“Right.”

“And the other half taking in the CO2 sending out the O2?”

“Yep.”

“Wow, what a beautiful dynamic.”

“Yeah. Back and forth, and everybody’s alive and happy.”

“I only have one question.”

“What?”

“How can the things that make the O2 have a process if they don’t start with O2?”

“Good question. We’re giving them a slightly different approach. Basically, it’s a setup that lets them borrow combustion.”

“They borrow it?”

“Yeah.”

“Who from?”

“You mean, where from?”

“A mere technicality. Please, explain.”

“They’ll download it from the next thing we need to invent.”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t you sense that something is missing?”

“I sense that a lot is still missing. I just don’t know what part of the puzzle you’re referring to.”

“Here’s a hint. We’ve got land here, water there, and the sky up here. The stage is set, except for?”

“Lights?”

“Right. We need stage lights? What else? Come on, come on.”

“I dunno. If I did, I’d be in tech.”

“Heat.”

“Oh, right. We don’t want the team to be cold, at least, not all the time.”

“No way. They’d be miserable.”

“And we don’t want that.”

“So we need light and heat.”

“How do we manage that?”

“We’re thinking of overheads.”

“Overhead lighting?”

“Yeah. Also, heating.”

“All that, hanging up there? I don’t know. This sky is starting to sound kind of busy to me.”

“That’s because you’re not seeing it the way we are.”

“Go on.”

“Helen has a fantastic idea for her atomic brainstorm.”

“What?”

“Instead of just planets, we create these other agglomerations that produce heat and light.”

“One for heat, another for light?”

“No, no. The way we envision it, one does the work of two.”

“Great, if you can pull it off."

"But how? Just with Helen’s ‘H’s.’”

“That's the plan.”

“I say, go for it.”

“Will do.”

“How long do you think these agglomerations can do both things?”

“The way we’re thinking, for plenty long enough.”

“How so?”

“Helen, who, as you know, is a very outdoorsy type, who just loves to go fly fishing.’“

"I don’t understand what that has to do with the longevity of heat and light."

“One day when she was on the stream she had this idea that she calls ‘fishin.’”

“'Fishin?’”

“Yeah. It’s a process that makes heat and light with H’s for an incredibly long time.”

“I’m fine on the process. But the name? Way too confusing.”

“Why?”

“Because ‘fishin’ is done down in the water, and this happens up in the sky.”

“I pointed that out to her. But you know Helen. When she gets an idea, she’s really hard to dissuade.”

“May I suggest a compromise?”

“Always.”

“Give her the sound she wants, but spell it differently.”

“Do you think she’ll go for that?”

“Give it a shot.”

“OK. I’ll let you know.”

“I think we’ve gotten a little ahead of ourselves with all this discussion of heat and light. Let’s get back to the sky. Anything we haven’t covered?”

“There is an important detail. It has to move around.”

“Why?”

“So it can take the water from one place and drop it on another place.”

“Makes sense. But how can the sky carry it around? I don’t see something that light having arms, legs, and buckets, do you?”

“No way.”

“And it can’t swim around with it, can it?”

“No.”

“Then how do you expect it to lug the water around?”

“What do walking and swimming have in common?”

“Go on.”

“It’s all about the pressure principle. You press your foot down and the ground pushes you forward. You push the water to the side, and the water pushes you ahead. Action, reaction.”

“I don’t understand how that applies to the sky?”

“Simple. We’re going to make it so there’s pressure up there that will fluctuate from one place to the next.”

“And?”

“It gets high in one place, and low in another place. So what happens? One kind of pressure is always pushing out or sucking in the other kind of pressure.”

“Hmm, what do you call such movement?”

“We’re adapting the concept of winding up and winding down.”

“So you get?”

“We’re just going with the first syllable.”

“’Wind?’”

“Right. But to avoid confusion with ‘winding,’ we thought we’d say it differently.”

“How?”

“Oh, the change is as light as the invention itself. We just moved in a short ‘i’ for the long one and came up with ‘wind.’”

“’Wind,’ as in the ‘wind flows,’ sort of like how we decided water flows?”

“Almost. We thought we’d give it its own word for movement, but we didn't want to go too far afield, so we went for a handy rhyme.”

“What?”

“’Blows.’”

“The wind blows?”

“Right.”

“And the water flows. I like that.”

“Sounds good."

"Thanks. Of course, sometimes the sky can pretty much just sit there. Picture this: movement and stability, perfectly joined?”

“I can see that.”

“I have a concern.”

“Go ahead.”

"Light as it is, the sky is enormous. So it can’t move too fast. Or it might blow all the land and water away.”

“We figure that most of the time it will blow gently.”

“Good.”

“But what about at other times?”

“Remember our variety principle – and that you can’t appreciate one thing without the other. Gentle wind, hard wind. But don’t worry. We set limits.”

“Like what?”

“It won’t blow all the land or water away at once. That we know for sure. But we’re still calibrating.”

“OK. Work on it. Anymore additions to the sky?”

“I know it’s moving. But I still don't see how it’s going to carry the water around? It’s light, water’s heavy. Frankly, I find the whole issue troubling.”

“We considered that apparent contradiction, but we quickly realized it’s not really a contradiction. All we had to do is make sure the sky has the right luggage.”

“This I can’t wait to hear. Tell me about the luggage in the sky.”

“Remember I said we plan to make the rain out of itty-bitty pieces of H2O, so it can ‘uperate.’ Sorry, I keep forgetting, ‘evaporate.’”

“Yeah?”

“We figure once they're up there the itty-bitty pieces can get together and make their own luggage.”

“Neato! How?”

“We went back to agglomeration.”

“You’re finding that concept very useful?”

“Yes, we are. You have a problem with that?”

“No, just pointing it out.”

“Trust me, we need all the workable principles we can get. Now, to return to the rain. The itty-bitty particles will agglomerate into luggage we’re calling clouds.”

“Clouds?”

“It’s just our word for mounds in the sky.”

“Fine. So the itty-bitty water particles agglomerate, like dust, excuse me, atoms and molecules, agglomerate into what we call land? Only now they’re clouds.”

“Kind of, but, unlike land, the agglomeration proceeds in a much more diaphanous way."

"'Di-' what?"

"Lighter to you. So the clouds can still stay up there.”

“And move from place to place?”

“Right. Only when they agglomerate a certain amount of water, they let go and down it comes.”

“Neat. But not too much at once.”

“Well, no guarantees there. Remember our variety principle.”

“Just set some limits, OK? I don’t want to see the whole thing we’re making get washed away.”

“We’re in the same boat.”

“Good.”

“Esthetically speaking, got a color for clouds?”

“We think white when they’re light; then, as they get more H2O in them, since they’re heavier, they’ll look darker.”

“Seems right. So when they’re darker, the creatures will be able to expect rain?”

“Frequently.”

“Why isn’t anything with you ever just one thing or the other?”

“What? You want simplicity, too? Let’s just get the universe right, OK?”

“He’s right. Anyway we can manage the task. Please, continue.”

“At other times, the dark clouds could just go somewhere else before they dump.”

“Excellent. Got a background color for all this cloud activity?”

“Not yet. It has to wait until we invent the lights.”

“Why?”

“They’re kind of tied together.”

“In what way?”

“Oh, with what gets through and what doesn’t.”

“I think we’re getting into tomorrow’s meeting.”

“Let’s just stay with the sky a moment longer. Anything else to it?”

“Lots.”

“Like?”

“Well, for one, Nancy has a real contribution.”

“What, ‘N?’ I’m not sure about this practice of letting the people in tech name their inventions after themselves.”

“Why? We find it to be a great morale builder. And, given the amount of OT we’re putting in, we sure can use it.”

“I’m in complete agreement. What to talk anymore about the ‘N’?"

“Maybe at a later time. Before we call it a wrap, I do want to mention that we have an alternate name for the sky.”

“What?”

“Sometimes we call it the atmosphere.”

“Why that?”

“Well, the “at” part kind of stands for the atoms we put into it, and the ‘sphere’ stands for how it kind of wraps around the land and water.”

“Could get a little cumbersome.”

“We thought about that. So for short we also decided to call it ‘air.’ It comes from ‘fair.’”

“’Fair?’ Why that?”

“When the sky is calm and clear, we decided to call that condition ‘fair weather.’”

“Oh, I see. ‘Fair,’ ‘air’?”

“Right. We wanted to go witha name that accents the positive.”

“Excellent! I think that about does it. We’re into detail work that’s better off left to you people in the lab.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

“So next on the agenda, we need some bright thinking about heat and light. Good work and everybody have a nice evening.”

So now we had the sky pretty much under control. I could see it now, sort of like beautiful wrapping paper for a planet. But bringing heat and light together into one thing. That really gave me something to exercise my noggin about.

By Tom Attea

The Invention of Water

Part Three of The Invention of Everything;
An Eyewitness Account

Now that we had invented land, everybody wondered, what could be missing? The day before, there was some talk about an idea called water. Today, we were scheduled to work on it. As usual, the big boss kicked things off.

“OK, it’s time to dive into water. Any thoughts?”

“I’m concerned.”

“Why?”

“Well, we just invented land. Why cover it up?”

“I have another take on the issue.”

“What?”

“It might be kind of neat to balance things out. Land here, water there.”

“That jives with the way we’re thinking about H2O.”

“H2O? Never heard of it. ”

“Sorry. We’re making water out of two of the atomic gizmos Helen invented and one that Oscar came up with. Basic, but the combination works.”

“OK. Go on.”

“Well, he said ‘Land here, water there.’ We’re thinking land is dry, so maybe water is wet.”

“Sounds right."

"Then I think the question becomes, how much water are we talking about?”

“You mean – “

“– I can go with the concept, just not all over the place.”

“Wisely said. Make a note of that. Water in moderation.”

“Sure, boss.”

“What else?”

“I want to know exactly where it goes – on top of the land, under it, inside of it, or above it?”

“We’re thinking it would mostly go on top. But it could actually go anywhere.”

“Then what’s left for land?”

“I don’t think you’re seeing the whole picture. You see, the water is different.”

“How so?”

“It won’t just sit there like land. It will move around.”

“Oh, that’s interesting. Can you provide some detail?”

“We have a concept called “flow,” as in ‘go with the flow.’”

“Go where?”

“Mostly, downhill.”

“How does that work?”

“We plan to make it relatively heavy. So the flow will go to where the land is low. See how it all ties together?”

“Oh, flow, go, low. Got it! So the land is still everywhere that’s high?”

“Generally speaking, yes.”

“Except?”

“We’re working on a way to get it to places where it can’t just flow.”

“What for?”

“Let’s say the land is just sitting there. It’s dry. Now, remember when I said the atoms and molecules would combine in different ways?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, we need a way to move things along, and we thought maybe the water could facilitate that.”

“You mean like social grease?”

“Exactly. The water becomes the social grease. And we wouldn’t want to deprive land that just happens to be high of all the interesting possibilities, right?”

“Seems fair. So how do we get it up there?”

“We have an idea with the working name of ‘uporation.’”

“I think you might want to work on that terminology. It’s a little clunky.”

“Mark it for evaluation.”

“Sure. ‘Eva –‘ What if we just tab it as ‘evaporation’?”

“Done deal.”

“Include that for short we call it ‘rain.’”

“I don’t now how you get from ‘uporation’ to 'rain.' It seems like a bit of a stretch.”

“Not really. First the water ‘uporates.’ Excuse me, ‘evaporates.’ Then it rains back down.”

“Like a cycle.”

“Sure. Land high, water low. Question: how do you get water up? Answer: itty-bitty amounts of H2O float up. Get it? That’s why we made the structure so simple.”

“You guys in tech are really on it.”

“Thanks.”

“So go on.”

“Now what happens is, it can drift here, there, and everywhere, and then, at some point, it falls back down.”

“On the land where it’s high?”

“Right. But actually on any land or even on water that happens to be under it. Down it comes. Whoosh!”

“And everything under it gets a fresh supply of social grease?”

“You got it.”

“Like it. Do you have in mind any other function besides social grease?”

“Oh, sure. But no need to go into that now, except I might mention a nifty detail.”

“What’s that?”

“When the land is out of place, say, on your hands, because you’ve been working with it.”

“Yeah?”

“And it’s time to eat, so you want it off of there.”

“You don’t eat land?”

“Not in its basic form. I’ll cover that in time. Let’s stay with land on your hands.”

“OK. What do you do?”

“You employ the flow to move it off.”

“Hey, neat.”

“What about water? Do you eat it?”

“Yes, but we call that by a different name.”

“Why?”

“You don’t chew it. It flows down into you.”

“I see. What are you calling that process?”

“’Downing,’ as in, 'I think I’ll down a glass of water.'”

“Think about that. The whole idea of ‘down’ strikes me as kind of a bummer, especially for the long-term.”

“Sure.”

“I have an easy fix. Why not combine ‘downing’ with what he just said?”

“In what way?”

“You said ‘downing,’ he said, ‘think,’ so how about ‘dinking?’”

“I’m not sure that’s spot on. But play around with it and get back to us.”

“You got it.”

“Any other thoughts on water?”

“Well, as long as it’s there, shouldn’t there be something in it?”

“I’m glad you asked that. We’ve already got some prototypes.”

“Like what?”

“Depends on how long the water and the land have been mixing things up.”

“They don’t do that from the get-go?”

“How can they? The water can’t arrive until after what you sometimes still derogate as dust agglomerates into planets.”

“That’s understandable. But then where does it come from?”

“Good question. We figure we’ll add it with these traveling objects we’re calling comets.”

“They lug the water around? How do they do that without it flying off? Are there compartments?”

“Not necessary. We plan for the comets to spend most of their time where the temps are quite cold, so the water freezes and locks onto whatever land the comet is made of.”

“Cool. And?”

“Well, as you know, all the items in the really big thing we’re inventing are moving in three directions at once – spinning, circling, or heading out, sometimes maybe in. So, statistically speaking, they’re bound to intersect from time to time.”

“So the comet smacks into the agglomeration?”

“Not only that. The impact generates heat. The ice melts. And voila! We have land and water.”

“Sounds perfectly natural to me.”

“Thanks. I take that as a compliment. But now here’s where everything comes together.”

“In what sense?”

“Now that the social grease is in place, the atoms and the molecules start to get together. The more they socialize, the more they make.”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute. Tell me exactly how they make things besides themselves.”

“No problem. They’re loaded with energy. Remember energy?”

“Yeah.”

“OK, and what is energy?”

“You tell me.”

“What else? The most basic kind of what we decided to call life.”

“It is?”

“Sure. What do you think life is, the absence of energy?”

“OK. I can go with that. So we have all these things – land, water –”

“– atoms, molecules – all loaded with energy. And they’re – “

"– all set to combine into more complex forms of life.”

“Depending on?”

“The conditions they find themselves in. Remember when I told you we programmed them so they could be perfectly responsive to whatever environment they get together in.”

“Right. So? “

“We’ve got the ideal deal – land, water, a mixture – “

“– And the result is?”

“The right mix.”

“Wow, I like that.”

“Brilliant. You guys in tech are just awesome.”

“Thanks. Let’s just hope whatever results from all this appreciates what we put into it.”

“How can they not, I mean, to the extent they can?”

“Well put.”

“Can you provide any specifics about what combos might result?”

“There are just a tremendous number of possibilities.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“Can you give us some for instances?”

“A couple of basics, more as our thinking evolves. We figure, given the size of the agglomerations we plan to include, or, as we decided to call them, planets, whatever develops would have plenty of room for feet.”

“On land?”

“Right.”

“What about in the water?”

“Remember it’s heavy. So walking would be tough.”

“Got a way around that?”

“We’re looking into a prototype that gets around without feet.”

“That’s interesting. What are you thinking?"

“Something we’re calling swimming.”

“’Swimming’?”

“Yeah. It’s this really sleek thing that can slip through the water by kind of wiggling from side to side, pushing water this way and that, which in turn pushes it forward.”

“Seems like an appropriate accommodation.”

“So nothing in the water walks?”

“I wouldn’t say that. Don’t forget. Way at the bottom of the water there’s land. Some things could walk on that, especially if they’re smaller, so they wouldn’t have to move much water out of the way as they go along.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you’re intimating that we could have creatures all over the place? Land, water, wherever. ”

“Well, everywhere that can support something. That’s the way the atoms and molecules are set up. They have this great urge to combine. Give them a chance and, blam, they snap together and make something that fits into whatever the livable niche is.”

“Can I just ask a detail? You know I’m a visual type.”

“Sure.”

“What color is the water?”

“We haven’t addressed that yet.”

“Any thoughts?”

“So far it’s just clear.”

“You can see right through it?”

“Pretty much.”

“Anybody have any suggestions?”

“I have a no-brainer.”

“What’s that?”

“When it moves a lot of land around, it could take on the color of whatever land it’s moving around.”

“Good match of form and function. Any other ideas before we wrap things up?”

“Let me just say, even though it’s actually clear, it could reflect things.”

“You mean, whatever happens to be above it?”

“I thought the only thing higher than land and water is rain?”

“Well, evaporation does need a place to go up into and then rain down from.”

“Oh, right. Any thoughts?”

“Some preliminary stuff. We call it, for short, the sky.”

“Seems like a fundamental part of the mix. May I suggest we make that the subject of our next meeting?”

“Then we’re done with water?”

“At least, for the nonce.”

“Good work. Mark the agenda. Tomorrow, we delve into the sky.”

“Already done, boss.”

So now we had a pretty good grip on land and water. An amazing duo, if you ask me. Now, I was looking forward to inventing sky. After all that went into land and water, it seemed like a pretty transparent task. But you never know. Sometimes projects that seem easy as sky turn out to be anything but.

By Tom Attea

The Invention of Land

Part Two of The Invention of Everything;
An Eyewitness Account

Now, it came time to invent land. First, we had to tackle a big question: Why should there be anything, instead of nothing? Here are my notes on the meeting:

"OK, today is the day we invent – what did we decide to call the dry stuff?"

"Land, boss."

"Thanks."

"May I say something?"

"Sure."

"Before we go and invent land, let’s ask the big question. Why should there be anything, instead of nothing?"

"Why? You like nothing better? Sounds kind of empty to me."

"Boring!"

"Well, we’re here. That’s already something."

"True, and, as long as we are, don’t we want to do something constructive?"

"Sounds right to me."

"OK, then, that’s it. All in favor of inventing land, raise your hands."

Everybody raised their hands.

"Good. So let’s go on. How do we get the job done?"

"How else? The usual way. Little by little. Then, over time, we have something really big."

"OK. So what do we call the stuff we start with?"

"How about dust?"

"Dust? You want to call the atoms and molecules I’ve been working on for over a week dust?"

"Sorry. It looks like dust."

"That’s what you know. I put all the intelligence required in those tiny wonders for my so-called dust to combine into all kinds of higher creatures and plants."

"You did?"

"Yeah. And don’t think it was easy."

"How do they do that?"

"Easy. They respond to whatever kind of environment they find themselves in and get to work."

"OK, I like that."

"Sure, sure, but right now the dust is just sitting idly by. How do we get it going, so it can amount to something?"

"You’re right. Say, what if we pack it into a really tight ball – I mean, like, incredibly tight – and suddenly, wham-bam, it releases all the energy we squeezed it together with and it flies apart."

"Energy? You never mentioned that before? Is it something new?"

"Oh, sorry about that. You’re right. I forgot to tell you energy is the other half of the tiny wonders I cobbled together in the lab. It makes all the itty-bitty parts do their things – swirl, attract, repel, and combine in all kinds of ways. You name it."

"Oh. Good thing you thought to make it."

"Thanks. Now, I don’t mind the name 'energy.' But can we please think up another name for 'dust'? I can’t stand knocking my marvelously capable inventions like that anymore."

"OK, OK, anybody got any suggestions?"

"I have it. The dust is the foundation of everything, right?"

"Right. So it really matters?"

"Un-huh."

"Then, hey, why don’t we call it matter?"

"Matters? Matter. I like that. Neat tie-in."

"Then it’s settled. Everything is made up of energy and matter."

"Why don’t we say them in the order they’d logically occur: first we have matter and then we have energy?"

"I could go for that but, to tell you the truth, I made them so they’re interchangeable."

"You did?"

"Yeah. But I’ll grant you this. They sound better if you put the 'matter' first, as in 'matter and energy.' Turn that on your tongue, and I think you’ll agree."

"Sounds better to me. So let’s go with that. Everything in the universe we plan on building is made up of matter and energy."

"Says who?"

"Me."

"What about where all the stuff goes? We need a place for it."

"When you’re right, you’re right. So we also have a place."

"Sounds way too indefinite. How about we alter the word 'place' a wee bit?"

"As in?"

"Well, what if we take out the “l,” which is just standing there all by itself, bend it into an “s” shape, and put it first. Then we’d have 'space.'"

"Nice word. Sounds right."

"I agree. So then 'space' it is! Anything else?"

"Is the big thing we’re going to invent going to be there a while or is all this effort for next to nothing?"

"Let’s hope for a long while."

"We have to provide for that, don't we?"

"For what?"

"The duration."

Good point. But 'duration'? Do we like that?"

"Sounds kind of wimpy to me."

"Yeah, the syllables just seem to tumble all over each other."

"Let's just do what we did with 'dust' and think up a neater name."

"Excellent."

"Hey, why not pick a word that goes with how big a job we have ahead of us?"

"Like what?"

"Time."

"Has a nice ring to it."

"Yeah. Sounds long, too. Anybody for changing the name 'duration' to 'time'?"

Once again, everybody raised their hands.

"OK, so now, let’s review things. We have four things: matter and energy, space and time. Are we all right on that?"

"What do you think? You did the grunt work on most most of the stuff."

"I think it will do for now. I mean, we’d be getting ahead of ourselves, but the guys down in the lab are working on the ways these things interact."

"Interact? Oh, yeah, I can see that. Can you be a little more specific?"

"No problem. We’re toying with concepts like motion, gravity, magnetism."

"Sounds fascinating. But let’s stay with the topic at hand."

"You’re right, boss. Land is tough enough to invent."

"OK, now, we’ve got all this matter. We pack it into a tight ball. When it’s packed tight enough, the pressure releases and sends the matter flying every which way. How’s that?"

"So far, so good. We should have a name for such a big event. Any ideas?"

"First, let me ask, should it have a sound effect?"

"Why?"

"What, a big thing like that should happen and there’s no sound?"

"You’re right. Even when we play pool and one little ball bangs off another one, there’s a smack. A sound effect is only fitting."

"Who's going to be there to hear it?"

"Always metaphysical. Can we just stay with the practical stuff for now?"

"Sure. Just thought I'd bring it up."

"Anybody got a name suggestion?"

"Well, since the whole thing is so sudden it could all kind of go bang."

"Sounds reasonable. So we call it a 'bang.'"

"You mean, 'The Bang.'"

"Right."

"That’s it? Something this big?"

"OK, OK, how about 'The Big Bang'?"

"Very workable. But I don’t know if it captures the romance of it all."

"Only a scientist could think of such a clunky name for such a grand event."

"You’re the literary person. Give us a little help here."

"Sure, sure. Well, it’s really kind of like a birth, right?"

"Yeah. A birth. Go on."

"So that’s what we call it. 'The Birth.'"

"Much better than 'The Bang' if you ask me. But can’t we give it some appropriate magnitude, like the way we put 'big' into 'The Bang'?"

"How about this? We call it 'The Birth of the Universe.'"

"Wow, that knocks me out."

"OK, it’s settled. 'The Birth of the Universe' it is. I’m making an executive decision on that. Now, here we have this matter, flying out in all directions. What happens next?"

"What else has to happen?"

"Are we going to invent creatures or aren’t we?"

"Yes, we agreed on that."

"So where are they supposed to walk. On the dust?"

"You’ve got a point there."

"Don’t tell me."

"What?"

"No sooner do we send the dust flying – sorry, I mean the matter – than we have to get it to come back together again."

"No, no, we’re past just a redo. We need to work it out so that now the matter agglomerates in a whole lot of disparate places."

"Aggloma – what?"

" – erates, as in clumps up."

"Oh, fancy word for the same thing if you ask me. But go ahead."

"OK, so it agglomerates into really big things that creatures can actually walk on."

"That big, hunh?"

"Only other choice is to make their feet really tiny."

"Right again. You’ve got an incredible understanding of this."

"Thanks. I’ve thought about it a lot."

"So now it sits there, and we have what part of the plan in place."

"Space."

"What?"

"In space. Remember, we renamed 'place'?"

"Oh, right."

"Well, it's a very basic part of things. After all, no agglomerations, no places for much of anything else."

"Solid thinking. So these agglomerations are really 'it?'"

"Well, fundamentally speaking. Hey, I have it. Why don’t we put the word 'plan' together with the word 'it'? So we call each one of the agglomerations a 'planit.'"

"Way too transparent. We can be more subtle than that, can’t we?"

"OK, OK, let me think. What’s the most artful way to get the job done?"

"What else? We change only one letter in the name."

"Same old, same old."

"But it works. So let’s stay with that. Now, we don’t want to mess with the word 'plan,' do we?"

"Too essential to the entire process. After all, what can you do without a plan except make a mishmash?"

"So then we’re down to 'it.'"

“'It' it is. And I like the way it ends, with that very definite 't' sound at the end."

"Me, too. So that leaves only the 'i' to work with. What do we know about it?"

"You mean, about the 'i' in 'it'?"

"What else?"

"We decided way back when to call the thing a vowel, right?"

Right."

"So let’s just work with the available variations."

"Why don't I write them out on the easel, boss?"

"Good idea. Go for it."

I got up and went to the easel. I picked up a Cosmic Marker and went to work.

"We have, in the usual order of the vowels, 'planat,' 'planet,' 'planit,' which we already nixed, 'planot,' and “'planut,' which sounds a little dicey to me."

"I see two contenders – 'planet' and 'planot.' What do you think?"

"I think it would be really counterproductive to name something that we’ve worked so hard on with one out of only two syllables being a big fat “not,” staring everybody right in the face for a long, long time."

"You’re right. So what if just we go with 'planet'? Everybody in favor of calling the balls of dust – excuse me – the agglomerations of matter 'planets,' raise your hands."

All present except one raised their hands.

"Why the abstention?"

"I don’t know, boss, I kind of like the crazy sound of a 'planut.'"

"Well, you always were a bit of a nut. 'Planet' carries by a majority vote."

"OK, so now we have a planet."

"Correction. Planets. Remember, the whole thing, as planned, is going to be huge."

"You’re right. We have planets. What else?"

"What does the land look like? Is it bumpy, like an agglomeration often is, or is it smooth in places?"

"Do we want the creatures on it to have to walk around on bumps all the time?"

"Would that make them happy?"

"No way. We can do better for them than that."

"Hey, what if we go all the way and make the whole thing flat as a pancake? Then they could walk for miles and miles."

"Then it wouldn’t be an agglomeration."

"Excess. You always become excessive."

"Sorry, boss, it was just a thought."

"OK, then, how about we keep it round but it's smooth as a cue ball?"

"Can you please keep your mind out of the pool hall for a few minutes longer? We’ll be done soon enough."

"I think all smooth is really boring myself. I don't care whether you call it a pancake or a cue ball."

"Me, too."

"I think it’s time to remember our variety principle."

"Agreed. So this is it. We have bumps and smooth places."

"Excellent. But, as long as we’re talking about variety, how about hard and soft?"

"And, hey, what about all kinds of colors?"

"OK! Wow, this planet thing is starting to sound really interesting."

"Do you think your atoms and molecules can manage all those variations?"

"No problem. I worked out the mathematics. The matter is ready to be as perfectly responsive to whatever conditions it winds up in as water tumbling down a hillside."

"Water? Did you say water?"

"Yeah?"

"What’s that?"

"Something else we’ve been working on in the lab."

"Really? What’s it do?"

"What? All you want is land? Think about it. Shouldn’t there be something else, just to even things out?"

"Interesting but –"

" – I agree."

"Sure, boss."

"I also had this nagging feeling that we might be missing something."

"Hey, you just gave me a flash."

"What?"

"The concept behind it. Duality! Land longs for something else to complete it, like left-right, up-down, boy-girl?"

"Good observation. So let’s all think about it. We reconvene tomorrow morning, same time, same place."

So we brought the invention of land to a successful completion. But what else would we need for a planet to be a planet? I mean, something really gorgeous. Hmm, I went home thinking about that. The more I did, the more I became convinced that water had a place.

By Tom Attea

The Invention Of Sex

Part One of The Invention of Everything;
An Eyewitness Account

Once we voted to go ahead with the idea of the universe, we had to deal with a lot of details. In fact, the day after we took the vote, we had a crisis on our hands. If there was going to be something in the universe besides vacant planets and underutilized suns, especially something that might enjoy our big achievement, the item or items would have to have a way to replicate. We didn’t want to have to show up every time the job had to get done.

At first, figuring out how it would work sounded easy enough. Who knew how many complications there would be? I’ll just give you the top line. Here’s how the discussion went.

“I know we’ve all put in a long day,” the CEO said, “but nobody goes home till we put the lid on the reproduction issue, OK?”

Everybody agreed with the big boss. So tonight would be the night we invented sex. I became excited just thinking about it. Since I can’t identify the participants anymore than I do, you’ll just have to make do with the dialogue.

“Are we sticking with the idea that most of them are incomplete in themselves?”

“Anybody want most creatures to be hermaphrodites?”

Nobody raised their hands.

“OK. So now we have these two halves. Let’s pick a species so we can see what we’re talking about."

“How about human beings?”

“I can go with that. What do we call the two halves?”

“How about men and women?”

“As in male and female?”

“Right."

"I like it. So back to the reason we’re working late. How do they reproduce?”

“Since there are two halves, they’ll need some way to mix things together, so a third thing results, right?”

“Sounds on the money. So what do we call these two things?”

“How about the male has this thing we call a sperm, and the woman has this other thing we call an egg?”

“Brilliant. Now we have a sperm and an egg. Where do we go from here?”

“You mean, how do they get together?”

“Yeah.”

“What if the male mails his sperm to the female?”

“It arrives in her mailbox?”

“Right.”

“Might die on the way. Remember, in the early days they won’t know about all the benefits of freezing, just weather-related incidents.”

“You’re right. We have to give them time to discover advanced stuff for themselves.”

Here’s where I got in my big suggestion.

“Hey, I have it. What if we provide each planet with an instruction manual?”

“Why would we do that?" the boss wanted to know. "We decided to give them brains, didn’t we?”

“Yes, boss, but, you know, even an alarm clock comes with an instruction manual. Don’t you think an entire planet could use one?”

“It would save the inhabitants a lot of grief,” a pal of mine volunteered.

“No, no, we’re smarter than that," the big boss told us. "We can create creatures that can figure things out for themselves, or I’m ready to scrap the entire universe project right now.”

“But, boss – “

“ – Look, would you buy a car that comes with a mechanic in the trunk? No. If we build the universe right, it should be able to drive out of here and do just fine on its own, OK?”

“OK,” I said, “just a thought.”

Since that was the CEO talking, I knew I had to give in. But I knew right then what a great service it would be for me to keep good notes.

“Now, back to the sperm and egg. What happens next?”

“I have it. What if we do direct deposit?”

“How would that work?”

“Well, we’d give the male a tube and the woman a receptacle. He puts the tube in the receptacle and delivers the sperm.”

“Where’s the egg?”

“Where else? In the receptacle. Only way up there, so it’s safe.”

“Like it. Sounds like a plan.”

“Hold it. Are we sure the male should have the tube?”

“Let’s just say for now, one half has a tube and the other half has a receptacle.”

“How do they work with that setup? They’d have to be mighty close.”

“Hey, that sounds interesting.”

“What?”

“Being mighty close. It might even help them like each other.”

“Hmm, do you think they’ll need help with that?”

“Who knows? Probably in some cases. I don’t see any downside.”

“OK, so they get close. What happens next?”

“You mean, how does he make the deposit?”

“Right.”

“What do you think? He puts it in the receptacle.”

“But how does he get it in there? Wouldn’t his tube have to be stiff?”

“Probably be a help to them.”

“Right. But should it be stiff all the time?”

“I don’t’ think that’s advisable. How would he, say, run from wild animals or look uninterested when he thought it would be attractive to a memeber of the female half?”

“Doesn’t sound like good design to me. Let’s match form and function here. It’s only stiff when he needs it to be. OK?”

“Sounds right. So how does it get stiff?”

“I have it. What if they hold each other in their arms?”

“Yeah, yeah, go on.”

“And they rub their bodies together?”

“Why?”

“Let’s say it makes them feel good – and we tie feeling good in with stiffness. He feels good, up it goes.”

“What about the female half? Shouldn’t she feel good, too?”

“Seems fair to me. Hey, I just thought of a win-win situation.”

“What’s that?”

“She feels good and helps the process along by creating some lubrication to help with the tube.”

“Fantastic tie in.”

“We’d have to build that into the nerve endings.”

“I think we can manage that. The better they feel, the happier they are, right?”

“Before we get carried away with all this feel-good stuff, let’s ask a more basic question. Should it feel good to replicate or should it be painful?”

“Do we want them to do it or don’t we?”

“After all the work we’re doing to get them to the point where they’re on a planet and ready to go for it, we better want them to.”

“I’ve got a build on that. What if we make it feel so good they can’t resist doing it?”

“Now, there’s an outstanding thought. You mean sort of an insurance policy that, no matter how dumb they might be in some things, at least, they’d reproduce, so some smarter people might come along.”

“Right.”

“Terrific concept. So let’s go for it. All in favor of making sex feel so good they can’t resist doing it raise their hands.”

All the hands went up.

“OK, that’s it. Motion carried. Boy, are these creatures ever gonna love us. Anything else?”

“Well, we have to think of everybody. So, good as it feels, there are bound to be people who somehow decide sex isn’t a good thing.”

“Are you kidding, with all the benefits we’re loading it with?"

“Who knows, guilt of some kind?”

“About what? We’re making the design choices, not them.”

“Of course. But you know how much we like variety. What a joy to see all the molecules combine this way and that! So we have to plan for everything. What do you think? Should the naysayers be able to resist doing it?”

“I think those few who have a negative viewpoint should be able to decline, but I think we should make it really tough for them. It’s the solid middle ground.”

“I can accept that.”

“Good."

"Now, I want to get back to the design thing for a moment. They’re rubbing their bodies together. They’re feeling good. What happens?”

“What?”

“Brush burns.”

“What do you mean?”

“What are we making the skin out of, vinyl?”

“You’re right. Hey, I have it.”

“What?”

“We take an idea right off the top of their heads.”

“What’s that?”

“Hair. We put some hair down there, sort of like a cushion.”

“Long hair like they have on their heads? That might complicate things.”

“I have it. What if we make a special kind of short, fuzzy hair? Form and function, perfectly joined.”

“Do you think they’ll be OK with that? Does it seem too animal?”

“It might embarrass them, particularly in the early days, when they’re trying to distance themselves from the other creatures we plan to introduce.”

“You mean, like monkeys?”

“Exactly.”

“I don’t know. I think having some hair here and there might help them feel more at home with the other creatures.”

“Instead of all by their lonesome selves, feeling desolate on some planet in the middle of somewhere?”

"Right."

“Good insight. Very harmonious. I want you to know that. OK, so let’s recap it and take a vote. Here it is. The male has a tube. Can we agree on that?”

“I’m too tired to go on about who has what.”

“Good. It’s getting late. So let’s move on.”

“Hold it, hold it, let’s not rush ahead too fast.”

“What do you mean?”

“What makes the sperm go from the tube way up to where the egg is?”

“Excellent question. Any thoughts?”

“How about this? At some point, during all the rubbing together, he feels so good he launches it toward the woman.”

“Yeah, yeah, but what powers the launch?”

“What else do we have to work with? Muscle power. You know, they contract.”

“OK, that’s it. The muscles start to contract and we have a launch.”

“And it feels good.”

“Really good. And what about the woman. She has muscles, too.”

“When you’re right, you’re right. So her muscles start to contract.”

“Yeah, but why?”

“I have it. So out comes even more lubrication.”

“Love it."

“And, hey, boss, what if she has little fans way up there, just to help move the egg toward the sperm?"

"You mean, like, cilia?"

"Right."

"Equality if I ever heard it. Make a note to include cilia."

"You got it. Nice coincidence, since we decided fans go more with feminine fashions. By the way, I have another way to make nice.”

“What? We haven’t made this enough fun yet?”

“No, no, get this. We give the male a really big reward when he deposits the sperm, and the female an equally big reward when she really lubricates the receptacle. Then they’ll want to do it even more and, when they think how much pleasure we put into the design, they’re love us like crazy.”

“Great observation. So what do we call this good feeling?”

“What else? The climax.”

“Done. A climax it is.”

“Can I just enlarge on that?”

“Sure.”

“Well, after they do it and she finds herself with a little replica inside of her, she’s going to have to go through a lot, while the guy just sits back and thinks, Wow, look what I did. So I think she should get a reward commensurate with her responsibilities.”

“Good thinking. Anybody got any suggestions?”

“I have it. What if she can feel good more often than the guy?”

“You mean she can have multiple climaxes?”

“Why not? It would be tied to all the rubbing around, not just the launch. Besides, when it comes to lubrication, who’s counting?”

“Is this getting hot or not? I think we’ve covered it. Anything else before we take a vote.”

“One thing. If sex is going to feel as good as we say it is, they’ll want to do it a lot. But there’s no way one woman can have that many kids.”

“You’re right. Not only that, how can we ask one man to support that many kids? So the question is, can they only do it when they have making kids on their minds to help them get excited?”

“That’s a lot of holding back.”

“Right. So what’s the answer?”

“Well, let’s think about that. If they’re holding each other in their arms, rubbing around together and feeling good, and then we have a climax – hey, maybe they can even both go off at the same time – the whole experience might be a great way just to get them in each other’s arms to help them care about each other.”

“You mean, sort of amity through proximity?”

“Right. They’re in each other’s arms, it feels good, so they feel good about each other. Hey, maybe when they love each other it even becomes one way they express love. How about that for a fantastic concept?”

“Great. Just great. Anything else?”

“Just a detail. You know I’m a numbers guy.”

“What?”

“Well, we know we want them to succeed at replication, so how does that influence the supply of sperm and eggs?”

“Good point. Any suggestions?”

“Sure. More is more. All we do is make sure the guy has plenty of sperm to launch and the lady has a plenty of eggs to drop.”

“We need to get specific. First, let’s deal with the man. How about a hundred a pop?”

“A hundred? Come on, man, we think bigger than that. I refer you to the overall plan. The universe, we agree, is going to be based on numbers in the zillions – planets, stars, you name it.”

“So what if we give the male zillions of sperm?”

“That may be overdoing it. I’m not sure he could get around with that much sperm between his legs.”

“What if we settle for billions?”

“Still seems like more than the required amount.”

“Millions, then?”

“Per launch?”

“Yeah. How can he miss?”

“OK. Then, like, what about the number of eggs?”

“We wouldn’t want him fertilizing millions of eggs at a time.”

“You got that right. We can’t have the woman trying to make room for that many replicas at once. How about if, as a control, we just provide for one egg at a time.”

“Sounds good, but a little too predictable. What if every so often there are two, three, four, even five of them?”

“Why don’t we just agree that generally there will be one and once in a while two or more?”

“And get this. What if from time to time after the sperm meets up with the egg, the combo can split? So we get a twofer – two babies for one good time together? It’s like what they’ll one day call a BOGO sale: buy one, get one free.”

“Now we’ve got some really interesting variety going. So the guy has millions of sperm, and the woman has…”

“An egg a month.”

“OK, seems workable. But let’s examine the implications of that. The woman produces an egg a month for how long?”

“Oh, maybe thirty-five, forty years. We don’t want her having kids when it will be too hard on her body.”

“OK, and the male produces millions of sperm every time he gets excited, maybe three times or so a week for how long?”

“He could go for more years since he doesn’t have to carry the child.”

“Might also be a good idea, because the males will get into more trouble, especially in the early days, when they have to go out and hunt for dinner, etc.”

“You’re right. So let’s let him be ready for launch for, say, fifty, sixty years or, if he’s quite a guy, even longer?”

“Sounds right. Over their lifetimes, he produces billions of sperm and she produces hundreds of eggs.”

“How can they miss? I think we’ve got reproduction nailed.”

“Before we wrap things up, let’s ask the tough question. What about all the sperm and eggs that don’t make it? What do we to think about them? After all, every one of them will be a genetcally unique, one-of-a-kind potential offspring?”

“Well, at least, on the particular planet. Let's let the numbers work for their benefit and ours."

"How do we do that?"

"Simple as a dimple. When they realize the enormous odds against being the one or two offspring, they’ll appreciate how lucky they are to be the sperm and egg that made it.”

“You mean the odds against a successful hookup help them appreciate their lives?”

“Exactamundo! Know anything else with odds against it like that?”

“I think that about wraps it up. Let’s vote on it. All in agreement with sex as we’ve invented it?”

The yeas were unanimous.

So we knocked off for the night. We knew we had a big day ahead of us. In fact, quite a few big days.

By Tom Attea

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