A Solemn Builder's Tale

It was a cold and windy evening when the Builder arrived. She looked at me with eyes colder than a winter gale and a gaze deeper than the deepest sea. I saw a deep pain in her eyes, something of a faint haze that encapsulated her longing stare. She was the first person I had seen in many months, the people here don't come outside anymore.

“Do you need something?” I asked, my eyes locked with hers, “The weather has been nasty recently, why don’t you come inside for a hot cup of tea?” She didn’t blink, though her longing stare told me everything I needed to know. I led her into my home and put on the kettle, asking her to sit in the living room by the recently lit fireplace while we waited.

I looked around my small living room, taking in all but the smallest of details. Stealing another look at the leather recliner and small couch laid carefully on the hard wood floor. My eyes stayed for the briefest of moments on a picture, framed above the fire of myself and one other, each of us wearing one half of a heart-shaped locket. A token for us to remember each other by. Though that picture was taken many years ago, long before I came to this quiet place, it was anyone's guess if they were even still alive back in the Original City.

“May I tell you a story?” Asked the Builder as she sat down, “I have not spoken to anyone in a very long time and I wish to relieve a burden I have been holding ever so tight.”

“Of course you may,” I reply with a smile, “I’ve also been rather lonely, the people here aren’t very social, so it’s nice to meet someone willing to talk.” She looked at me briefly, a sense of appreciation and comfort in her gaze. Though her eyes betrayed her excitement, as they were underlined with dark and heavy bags.

“You see, I am a Builder. It is my duty to design and build incredible creations.” The Builder took a deep breath, calming a faint shake in her voice, “I am a Builder but I must not build my next creation. For you see, this creation will damn many souls to an eternity of torment. I am a Builder, but I am also a human, with family and friends who I care for dearly. As a human, I cannot build this creation. I do not know who may suffer from it. My mother, my father, my husband or my children. I as a human cannot risk them. However, as a builder, I must do exactly that. For if I do not, it is I who will be damned, as some other poor Builder will suffer through this decision just as I am and choose to build this creation. Tell me, kind stranger, what should I do?”

I stared at her for a moment, unsure of what to say. After all, what could I say, what could possibly help her in such a predicament? What creation could cause the distress she is facing? I had heard of Builders before, geniuses that came about every now and again. Masters of their craft and pioneers in their field. Many Builders had created weapons that nearly brought about the end, while many more created devices of peace, structures of impossible immensity. But alas, she continued, not waiting for my response.

“I cannot decide to cause an unknowable amount of people to suffer. But I also cannot bring myself to suffer in their stead. You see, my next creation is a machine that will bring peace to the world. An ultra-powerful and omniscient construction that will solve our problems for us. It will bring an end to world hunger, solve every case of poverty and homelessness, it will end all wars. This creation will bring about an ultimate justice where none will have to suffer. None except those who oppose its ideals.” She looked at me, a fire burning in her once seemingly listless eyes. It’s clear that this is something she’s passionate about, but for some reason, I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong.

“But how do you know that your creation’s justice will be the same justice as you or I?” I questioned, truly confused about how such a machine could exist, “What if your creation’s justice is one we normally view as evil or unethical? What would happen to those who opposed it?”

“An eternity of suffering, a punishment suited to those who would take away the peace and prosperity of the world.” She looked back at the fireplace, her face filling with a sadness I didn’t know one could possibly feel. But before long, she looked back, a pained smile across her face, “Which is why I will be the one to suffer, so that no one else has to, at least for now. But you shouldn’t think about it too long, after all, your tea is ready.”

And the kettle began to whistle.