The Protector of the Universe: Another Short Story

Those people, very few, who know about my role as Protector of the Universe assume that I am always cool, confident, and in control. He’s near-omnipotent, they think, what could possibly throw him off his stride? What could confuse him, frustrate him? What could scare him?

I’m scared all the time.

Scared about what I could become if I let things slip. About what I, with my power, could truly do if I lost some of my standards. If I lost my humanity. If I allowed myself to lose control.

Sometimes I get asked things like “Why do you still eat?” “Why do you still breathe?” “If you can teleport, or fly, or do whatever you want, why do you still drive around?” “Why, with everything else you still do, don’t you sleep?” Actually, I do sleep. I just stop time before I nod off, so I can enjoy a refreshing twelve-hour nap without having lost any real time. It just appears that I don’t sleep, is all.

But the real answer to these questions is fear, primal fear. Sure, I could go without eating, or sleeping, and I could just teleport everywhere I wanted to go in a puff of smoke. But with every step I took towards optimizing myself, towards losing the shackles of the flesh, I would take a step away from my own humanity. My soul.

If I stopped eating, sleeping, traveling, breathing, I would have less and less in common with the rest of the humans on Earth. Pretty soon, I might find myself beginning to wonder why I still interacted with them face-to-face, when it would be so much more efficient to appear with a thunderbolt from on high or as a disembodied voice, booming out over the horizon.

Pretty soon, I would wonder why I even bothered with having a body, if I wasn’t going to use it for anything much. And then, what would I become? Some kind of cosmic deva, floating in the stars, unbodied, unaffected by such petty human concepts as morality, joy, hope. Merely a vessel for my great power, dispensing it only with eyes to the cosmic consonance, losing sight of all the infinite small sparks of life and happiness that make this universe the jewel it is. That’s what I’m scared of.

But in addition to fear, there is also pain.


I frequent a café known as Spanner’s, in Albany. It’s outside of the hustle and bustle that is New York City (in a million inhabited worlds, you may be interested to know, I’ve never encountered another place quite like the Big Apple. It’s just so...vibrant.), but still metropolitan enough not to make me completely lose interest. And the food is good, with good service. A little overpriced, but really, that’s not exactly a priority of mine.

The real reason I go, though, well...you might call it the service. I call her Ashley Simms. One of the waitresses. Beautiful girl – flaming red hair, freckles, delightfully pale white skin, and a smile that could bring cheer to a patient with terminal cancer. Her hazel eyes sparkle “as a rich jewel in an Ethiop’s ear,” to quote one of the finest wordsmiths to ever put pen to paper. Yes, yes, she also has fantastic tits and an ass that just won’t quit, but I admire her beauty more than I admire her sex appeal.

Yet more stunning than her physical beauty is her vibrant spirit. I’ve known her for two years now, since I became a regular at this place, and yet every time I enter I’m stunned afresh at the sheer radiance of her presence. She’s never without her smile, her disarmingly nice nature defusing even the most annoying patrons, with no hint of sarcasm or bitterness.

She takes a genuine interest in all those she associates with. If ever time permitted during her hectic work schedule, I’m fairly confident I could sit her down and tell her my life’s story, up until I became Protector, and at the end she would smile brightly and thank me warmly for sharing with her. And she’d remember every detail.

All right, all right. Nobody's that perfect. I admit that she probably has some kind of terrible flaw, some imperfection, some bad quality about her, but for all my power, I am unable to see it. To me, she is the very definition of perfect excellence.

I have it for her, and bad. As you may have imagined. It’s not just her attractiveness. Hell, with a snap of my finger, I could magically conjure up ten girls proportioned to my exact specifications and thinking only of my pleasure. (I did once. Didn’t leave my house for eight weeks straight.) Ashley is pure and perfect in every way I can detect, mentally and physically. Given the general tenor of the universe as it relates to my love life, though, she thinks of me only as a good friend. Not that friendship with such a marvelous girl is bad, but to see her so close and yet such a distance away can become an agonizing thing.

Ashley is a jewel among dross. So, of course, she has a boyfriend, Bill. She rarely mentions him to me – I get the feeling that she sort of knows I have a thing for her, so she doesn’t bring him up much – but as far as I can tell, they’ve been dating since before I met her. For a long time, I cherished hope that she would break up with him for one reason or another, and I would be there to catch her as she fell, but it eventually became obvious that I should not hold my breath.

This brings me to the fear. See, my power allows me to do almost anything. I can reshape planets, consume stars...tear a galaxy in half. It would be absolutely effortless of me to simply twist a thought in her mind – and direct all her passion for Bill towards me. The temptation will arise when she gives me a brief hug as she leaves the restaurant at the end of her shift, or when she leaves an extra mint with my receipt and a little smiley face drawn on the bill.

I could do it in an instant. To see it happen...to see the look on her face, confused briefly, then changing to an expression of pure joy and radiance, the thought of this miracle is enough to strain my will to the breaking point. The only things holding me in check is my unshakable belief that it is the most grievous of sins to subvert the will of another, and my appreciation and respect for her as a person that is far too great to allow me to impose my will over hers.

Still, though, sometimes I want to do it so badly it leaves me trembling, and I have to get up and leave quickly lest I do something I will forever regret. I mean, yes, if I had a moment of weakness, I could undo what I had done, or even go back in time and fix things so that I never succumbed, but the stain of performing such an act would be on my soul for all my life. And I will live a very long time.

Today was different, though. I noticed as soon as I entered. She moved as though in a dream. Distracted. Her mind elsewhere. Her famous smile was still in place, but she had a strange look in her eyes that I had never seen before.

Upon seeing me, Ashley brightened up and approached.

“Hey, you,” she said playfully. “Table for one, again?”

“You know me,” I said. “The loneliest number yet again, I’m afraid.” She giggled and showed me to an empty table. It wasn’t my favorite – an elderly French couple occupied my preferred table near the window – but it was in just the spot for the setting sun to shine down upon me. She always did have a knack for this sort of thing. It’s one of the things that made her a good waitress, and a good friend.

As she turned to get my lemonade (I always ordered the same thing, to the point where I no longer had to order), I saw her eyes cloud over again, like they had been when I had entered. What was different? I sat back in my chair and pondered. If this guy Bill had hurt her, I decided, well...hoo boy, was he gonna be in for it.

A sparkle from her direction caught my eye, and I saw it. A ring of silver, with a small diamond set in an intricate pattern of sigils, adorned her fourth finger on her right hand.

Oh fuck.

I thought I had long since abandoned any thoughts of going out with her, but the finality of the engagement ring I glimpsed was like being hit with a truck. I sagged in my seat. All the small displays of affection she had shown me over the years – the hugs, the brief touches on the arm, the warm smiles – rose up in me like bile. This was it. My last, desperate hope had finally turned to ash and cinders with a single gleam.

So caught up was I in my own pain that I barely noticed her arriving back with my mozzarella sticks. Morose as I was, I vaguely registered someone saying something to me. With an effort, I snapped back into the real world.

“You okay?” she said, her brow wrinkled with concern. “Are you feeling well?”

Summoning up all the fortitude within me, I cleared my expression and returned to her with a smile nearly as sunny as her traditional one. “I’m okay, Ashley,” I said. “Just lost in thought.” Her smile returned at the news. “Say...” I said, pointing at her ring finger. “Didn’t notice that before. Did Bill finally pop the question?”

I expected an explosion of giggles and a quick confirmation, before she scuttled off to do her duties. What I didn’t expect was for her brow to furrow again, and her eyes to drop.

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “He did. I’m...” She blinked once, twice. “I’m so happy,” she said, and I have never once heard a person say that phrase with such conviction and yet so obviously mean it so little.

“Are you all right?” I said, leaning forward.

“Yes,” Ashley said, shaking her head slightly. “It’s just...well, I’ll talk to you about it later,” she murmured, turning away to one of her other tables. As she went, I watched her wipe her eyes on the back of her hand.

What on earth was going on here?

(Yes, I could have used my power to read her mind and find out, but not only is that taking another step away from humanity, it’s a gross invasion of privacy, something I’m not at all comfortable with.)


I waited until her shift was over, I knew how late she worked on Wednesdays. I was sitting outside Spanner’s in one of their wire-mesh chairs next to their wire-mesh tables, topped with an umbrella that might as well have been made of wire-mesh for all the protection it gave from the elements.

Ashley emerged, absent-mindedly taking off her nametag, and sat down next to me looking downcast. She sniffled slightly and fiddled with her nametag.

“What’s wrong?” I asked pointedly. “You just got engaged, shouldn’t you...y’know...be happier about it?”

“I am!” she said sharply. She turned to face me. “I love Bill. I have for a long time now. I’ve waited for this day for years, but...” She turned away again.

“What?” I said. “Did he hurt you?” Part of me wanted nothing more than to locate and absolve her pain for her, yet another, perverse part of me wanted her to tell me how badly he had wronged her, so I might descend from on high and mete out righteous punishment.

“No.” Ashley looked up, her eyes brimming. “See...I never told you. Bill has stomach cancer.” My eyes widened. Ah... “The doctors...” She sniffled again. “The doctors just told him that it has definitely turned fatal. They only gave him three months to live.” She took the ring off her finger and held it in the palm of her hand, the streetlights glittering off of it.

“He...he gave this to me...he said he wanted to get married quickly, so he could...” She broke down sobbing and fell into my arms. I held her while her chest heaved, doing my absolute dead-level best to ignore how fantastic she looked even while wracked with grief. After a minute or so, Ashley calmed down some, and sat back into her seat.

“He gave this to me...he said he wanted to get married so that he could die a happy man,” she said in a hollow voice.

It is an unfortunate measure of my imperfect character that part of me cheered at this pronouncement. She obviously loved him dearly, but a person can only stay attached to a dead man for so long, before the land of the living and the close friends with unrequited feelings make themselves apparent. It might take years, but what did I have if not time? Banishing these thoughts with a disgusted shake of my head, I leaned in closer.

“That’s very noble of him,” I said softly. “I hate to see you like this...” Wiping her eyes, Ashley nodded. “You obviously love him, and it’s terrible that it has to happen this way. If there was anything I could do, I-”

I stopped, stunned at my own words. Had the impact of gaining my power truly not sunk in yet? It would be so simple...but I would have to reveal myself. My secret is very, very closely guarded, and I hesitated long before divulging this even to my very closest of friends.

I was going to offer more hollow condolences, when I looked up and into her eyes. She was puzzled at my cutoff in mid-sentence, waiting for me to continue. Her watery, red-rimmed eyes decided for me. I could not see those eyes burdened with such grief any longer, even if it meant revealing my true nature to her.

“I, uh...I actually have a couple of things I wanted to talk to you about,” I said. Even as I spoke, I cursed myself for my insensitivity. Her fiancée, who she loves deeply, is dying, and I had the unmitigated gall to bring up my own subjects. But it is a testament to her wonderful personality that she dried her eyes and awaited my words, attentively. Ever considerate, she was (and is), ever thoughtful, ever pushing away her own needs to help and comfort others. What could I do in the face of such nobility?

“I’m...” I was going to ease into this, but damn everything, sometimes bluntness was called for. “I have something I have to admit,” I said quietly. Ashley said nothing, confused. I soldiered on. “I’m the Protector of the Universe,” I said.

Her confused expression segued into one of utter amazement. I could see the questions in her mind, without using telepathy or anything. Why is he wasting my time with games now? Before she had a chance to speak, I acted. My eyes flashed.

Her eyes widened and her mouth opened slightly. I had imparted into her the tiniest fragment of cosmic quintessence – for a fraction of a nanosecond, she saw all reality, all the universe, and my place in it. She saw who I really was.

The sensation faded. The knowledge did not. Her mouth closed, but her eyes remained wide. “You really are...” she breathed. I nodded.

“There’s something else I have to admit,” I said, hesitantly. “I...I love you.”

Her eyes softened. “You do...?” she said quietly.

“Yes, I do,” I said, fully aware of how useless and futile I was sounding. “I have, for...some time now.” I gazed into her eyes, full of so much emotion. “But you don’t love me. You love Bill. You see me as a friend,” I continued, each word feeling as if it was ripped from my soul.

She said nothing, but nodded slightly.

“You have no idea...how difficult it’s been, with what I can do,” I said. “The temptation to just change your mind...it’s been slowly killing me for a long time.”

“Why didn’t you?” she said softly.

I was taken aback. I could not answer.

“I mean...I love Bill, more than anything,” she said. “And I’m sad for him, but I treasure the time we have more than I dread...the end. But to think of you, with all your power, to see me and love me...and be able to make me love you...why didn’t you?”

Her generous spirit truly was unquenchable. To empathize with me for not dominating her, to try to understand my motivation for not forcing her to love me, while in the grip of such crushing grief...she truly was a jewel.

“I couldn’t bring myself to,” I said, slowly. “It would be like...” I waved my hands fruitlessly in an attempt to explain. “It would be like hacking the Mona Lisa out of its frame and hanging it up in my bedroom. I could not bring myself to violate such purity for my own selfish ends.”

I looked away. “If I had done it, and I had looked into your eyes, and seen love and devotion and compassion, and known it was all a lie...I wouldn’t be able to go on living, knowing I had desecrated something like you.”

I was forced from my reverie by a gentle kiss on the cheek. Shocked, I looked back at Ashley, leaning back into her seat. Her eyes brimmed with tears once more, but she was smiling again. “That’s why I like you,” she said. “For all you put yourself down...and you do, a lot,” she added, raising an eyebrow good-naturedly, “you really are a good person.”

I tried to smile back, but my heart just wasn’t in it. “There is something I can do, though,” I said, so softly she almost couldn’t hear me. “Bill has cancer, metastasized...fatal?”

“Yes,” she said. A tear dripped from her eye, but her expression remained steady. She wiped it off quickly.

“Not anymore,” I said. My thoughts tingled in my head, power flickering invisibly around me, as I reshaped reality. “In the morning, the doctors will be mystified to find that his cancer has gone into complete remission.” Ashley’s eyes bugged wide, and her mouth slowly started to open. “Within three weeks, there will be no evidence that there ever even was cancer there. He will be healthy, and pure, and...ready to marry you without a time limit hanging over his head.”

I looked back at Ashley. Her eyes were positively alight, and her smile was lit up like a beacon. “You really...?” she breathed.

I nodded. “Think of it as a wedding present,” I said.

She sprang from her seat and latched onto me, hugging me with tremendous strength for such a slender girl. She kissed me again on the cheek, then stood up and backed off. I followed her gaze to the hospital down the street.

She met my eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered.

The sheer emotion she put into those two words brought tears to my own eyes. She took a step or two towards the hospital, with an anxious expression. I nodded wordlessly. With one last smile, she tore off down the sidewalk, dashing across cross-streets, until she burst through the doors of the hospital.

I remained where I was, not moving, still feeling the impression of her kiss on my cheek, for a very long time.