He lifted his staff and tapped the end on the great concrete doors that stood before him. The double doors opened and an armour clad guard drew his sword.
“I am here to see our Great One,” said Hymptol quickly.
“Forgive me, sir,” said the guard through the visor on his helmet, “I was not expecting you.”
“Our Lord contacted me in my dreams. I believe my time has come.”
The guard seemed taken aback. “After all of these years?” He bowed his head and sheathed his sword. “Then I wish you all the luck for the future, sir.”
“I fear my future is to be a short one.”
“Then I wish you all the joy in what remains of your life.”
Hymptol acknowledged the guard and brushed past the soldier, his cream, jewelled cloak billowing behind him. He continued his journey deep into the palace, towards his God‘s chamber.
It was at this point where the light of the Eye began to consume the natural light that shone through the high-arched windows which overlooked the hills around the temple. And it was also at this point that Hymptol began to feel nervous. He had come here so many times, seven times a year maybe for sixty years, and he‘d never gotten over the sensation of fear.
“My Lord,” said Hymptol as he approached the main chamber. “My Lord, it is I, Hymptol.”
There was nothing.
“My Lord. You called me in my sleep. I came as soon as I could. It took me a while to find the transport to -”
“I understand,” came a rather weak and frail voice from beyond a small stone door.
“You…you sound ill, my Lord,” said Hymptol carefully.
“Come. Come into my chamber.”
Hymptol opened the small door and the yellow-green light shone into his face, brighter than he‘d ever seen it. After he had managed to direct his vision past the glare he noticed that his Lord was lying - no, slouching - in his wooden throne.
“My Lord,” said Hymptol, with real concern in his voice, “what has happened to you?”
“I am dying, Hymptol.”
“But you can‘t die,” said Hymptol. “You are a God of the Eye.”
“And I‘ve lived for thousands of years on this planet. I’ve created you and nurtured this world. But we all have to die. It‘s time for me to join all of the other ones who have possessed the Eye.”
“But what will become of us?”
“You will continue living like you always have and I will watch over you, but my body shall be gone.”
“My Lord…”
The old man raised a hand. “Please, Hymptol, just do me one last favour.”
“Anything,” said Hymptol, lowering himself down to his Lord‘s position and taking his hand.
“Take the Eye from me and cast it out into space. Eventually, in time, it will find another who can become a God and create a civilisation worthy for this universe.”
“And they will become one with the Eye?”
The man coughed and spluttered. “The time approaches. Remove the Eye and cast it into space. Quickly!”
Hymptol clasped the glowing yellow eye that hung on a silver chain around the old mans neck. The cat-like eye glowed with life and was vibrating with power. It wanted to find a new owner. As Hymptol slipped it over his Lords head, the mans face glowed yellow and then he was dead.
“Goodbye, my Lord,” said Hymptol sadly, and with a little regret that his services hadn‘t really been dismissed.
He crossed over to the large window that dominated the back wall of the chamber and threw the Eye as high as he could. Instead of falling back to the ground it floated up through the purple clouds and out into the blackness of space. It wanted to go. It wanted to be free. It wanted to find a new God.
For years and years and over many distances the Eye travelled through the cold vacuum of space, endlessly searching for a new mind, a new person for it to turned into a God.
Eventually it drifted into the Garazone System and onto the artificially created atmosphere of Garazone Central. It floated through the clouds and as gravity increased, it‘s descent grew faster and faster until it landed in the middle of a market stall. It was forgotten for more years, biding it‘s time, until eventually a cargo-freighter Captain named David Tressure, on shore leave, visited the market.
The star ship Dignity shot through the blackness of space attempting to evade her pursuers. The gun-metal grey flying saucer had been on their trail for what seemed like ages and they showed no sign of giving up the chase.
“Status report?” ordered Captain Tressure from his command seat.
“Both engines are down and it‘s only our momentum that‘s allowing us to move forward,” replied the pilot.
“Commander, give me a report on that saucer.”
“We‘ve finally got a match, Captain,” said the female commander. ‘It‘s a Dalek saucer.‘
“Bloody Daleks! I thought they were all dead!” said Tressure.
“No chance,” replied his commander. “If there‘s even one Dalek alive then it‘s enough to make a whole galaxy quake with fear.”
“Not this time. Turn us around.”
“Manoeuvring thrusters are down too, sir,” reported the engineer through the com system.
“What about aft weapons?”
“We might be able to manage something,” replied the tactical officer.
“Then aim for their engines and try and knock them out,” he growled. His hair was full of sweat he noticed as he ran his hand through his thick brown curls.
“We‘ve got 43 percent power,” called the engineer again.
“Then fire whatever we have.”
Outside, the saucer closed on Tressure‘s ship, but a thin beam of blaster fire was emitted from the rear canons.
It didn’t even scorch the Dalek ship.
“Report!” demanded Tressure, his face full of hope.
“No damage to the Dalek saucer.”
Tressure‘s face creased in anger. “Blasted pepper pots. What the hell do they want?”
“Obviously something in our cargo,” said the commander.
“We‘re just carrying a load of trinkets and nick-naks! I didn‘t know the Daleks were into that kind of thing!”
The ship lurched forward and Tressure flew out of his seat, hitting his head hard on the pilots chair.
“Sir the back of our ship‘s gone!”
“What?”
“The whole back of it‘s gone. But the cargo‘s safe.”
“Sadly, Lieutenant, I couldn‘t give one flying fnarg about the cargo.” Tressure made a decision. “Okay, everybody to the escape pods. We‘ve done all we can to defend the ship.”
Before they could leave the command bridge the ship lurched forward again.
“What‘s going on?” shouted Tressure above the noise of explosions.
“The ships taking a dive sir. We‘re heading towards that planet.”
Outside the sleek silver freighter was now bathed in black smoke and grey fumes pumped up from the now missing back-end of the ship. Flames licked up all around and the metal began melting while cracks appeared on the surface. The saucer fired a few more shots at the ship to ensure it crash landed. Whatever the Daleks wanted, they weren‘t concerned that they might be damaging it.
The ship nose-dived towards the planet.
Theen was a planet that was the definition of dead. There was no life, no animals, no birds. Not even any wind. It was just hot sun beating down on a whole globe of desert.
At night time it was freezing and in the day it was too hot. Usual characteristics of a desert, but the deadly silence was broken by a screeching sound. The silver, dart-shaped Dignity was diving towards the sand dunes. The sun reflected off it‘s silver panels and the reflection of the desert could be seen in it‘s bodywork. It tried to level off, but couldn‘t.
With an enormous clash of thunder the ship hit the sand scooping up the grains and burying itself half in the ground before finally coming to a stop.
Tressure kicked his way out of one of the escape hatches and slipped down the curve of the ship and into the sand. He was battered, bruised and burnt - but still alive. Just. His skin was torn from his face and one of his eyes was gone. Blood poured from cuts on Frenchman‘s body and he screamed in agony as he fell back into the sand.
Then something caught his eye. His remaining eye.
The cargo had been scattered all over the sand and a yellow glow was coming from one of the objects. He painfully dragged himself across the sharp grains of sand until he reached the object. It appeared to be an eye; a bit like a cats. It was small and yellow and glass-like and was attached to a necklace chain. He‘d remembered seeing it at the market on Garazone Central, but it hadn‘t been glowing then. Something was drawing him to it. He reached out his hand and touched it.
A warm glow filled his body and he floated up into the air. Globules of energy erupted from him and he felt his skin being re-assembled on his battered form. His eye grew back and the wounds healed. He felt almost too powerful for words.
He looked up to the blank blue sky and saw the dull-grey Dalek saucer attempting to land. He grinned and let out a wave of energy. The Daleks were caught by surprise and the entire saucer disintegrated into millions of little pieces.
Tressure laughed as he felt more and more energy forming around him. Suddenly trees and plants erupted from the desert. The sand disappeared, replaced by grass and foliage, soil and vines. Holes in the ground spewed out water which became lakes and ponds and seas. Where there was once a dead, desert world, there was now a beautiful jungle planet.
Tressure floated to the ground. His skin had turned an orange colour and he investigated his new surroundings. He couldn‘t believe that he‘d done this to the planet. He looked down at the eye. It was glowing brightly. He sensed a connection with it and he clutched it tightly. Something had happened to him. He felt like a God.
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