The others were also fixed in place. The tendons on the back of Suzy’s hand were taut, her sword drawn a mere half inch from its sheath. Dr Scamandros’s fingers had only touched his pocket. Both Giac and Fred had just managed to shut their eyes.
Nothing spread to the edge of the lawn, and high waves of it crested together above Arthur’s head. But the waves did not come crashing down. The Nothing stopped, as if an invisible dome covered the small paved area of the Elysium.
It had only taken a few seconds, but the Incomparable Gardens were destroyed, and with them, nearly all the Denizens, Newniths, and other inhabitants of the House.
Only Arthur, Suzy, Leaf, Dr Scamandros, Giac, Fred, Lord Sunday, and the Will survived.
A word inside the column of burning letters flashed, and Arthur and his friends found their mouths at least unfrozen, though they still could not move.
‘I regret to say ...’ began Dr Scamandros, whose face was for once completely clear of tattoos. But whatever he regretted was not heard, for he suddenly stopped talking, in order to gasp as someone stepped out of the Nothing that surrounded them.
It was a man, unbowed and vigourous despite his obvious age. He wore only a plain white robe, a little like a toga.
‘The Old One,’ said Arthur. ‘Free from the clock!’
‘Freed by your hand, Arthur,’ said the Old One. ‘For which I give you thanks.’
‘But ... what is happening?’ asked Arthur. ‘Why is the Will ... we have to stop the Nothing! Won’t everything be destroyed if this last part of the Garden goes? The whole Universe? Everything!?’
‘Yes,’ said the Old One.
He walked over to the column of words that was the Will and stepped into it.
As he did so, Nothing crashed in.
The Elysium was annihilated in that final wave of Nothing, and with its destruction, so too the Secondary Realms were destroyed: every galaxy, star, and planet, including Earth, and all its people, life, and wonders.
The Architect’s Creation was no more.
The Universe had returned to the Nothing from which it had been made.
Twenty-nine
ARTHUR WAS ALONE in total darkness. In shock, he was unable to comprehend what had happened, so it took him some time to work out that he was still alive. Or something. He was still aware of himself, at least. And he still had the Keys.
‘Light,’ he whispered, and there was light. A pale radiance surrounded him, though all else remained in darkness.
I am surrounded by Nothing, thought Arthur. Yet it has not destroyed me.
No, came an unexpected answer.
It was the voice of the Will, inside his head again.
You are too strong for Nothing to destroy you, save by your own desire.
Arthur turned around. There, surrounded by a light similar to his own, was Dame Primus. Or not Dame Primus. She ... or he ... flickered between two forms that were sometimes rather like Dame Primus and sometimes rather like the Old One.
‘You are the Architect,’ said Arthur.
We are the Architect, at least for a little time longer. Soon we will return to the Nothing from which we came, so long ago.
‘Why ... why did you destroy the House? Why destroy everything?’ burst out Arthur.
More than fifteen billion years ago, as mortals count time, I made the stars and waited while planets were born. I watched as life began. But it was slow, so slow, even for such as I ... I thought to intervene, and chose to separate part of my nature, to create a related entity who would oversee this work. So it was I made the Old One from myself. More time passed, and the work went well, most particularly with the advent of you mortals, something I did not anticipate ... as I did not anticipate that the Old One would grow apart from me, and disagree. We fought, and my anger grew, till at last I chained him, and made him suffer. Yet it was also I who suffered.
‘But what has this got to do with why ... why you destroyed everything?’ whispered Arthur. He still couldn’t believe what had happened. He could still see Leaf’s face, and hear her calling out.
Billions of years, mused the Architect. Billions of years ... You cannot yet comprehend how tired I became, despite all efforts to amuse and distract myself. The House was one such entertainment, inspired by mortals. Our children were another, and they did distract me, for a time. But time is a weighty burden, and all distractions fade. I grew to wonder what might lie beyond time, what might be found beyond my own existence.
Ten thousand years ago, my anger with the Old One finally cooled, and I found that this rage alone had sustained me for that time. I was weary, so weary, and I wished to go beyond.
I decided to give myself to Nothing ... but I could not. I was held back, because I was not whole. The Old One anchored me in this Universe, for in my rage I had made his bonds eternal, to last as long as my Creation.
I could not release the Old One and so free myself, without destroying everything I had made, the House and all the Universe beyond. So I began that process of destruction with the fracture of myself, and the making of the Will. It should have been quickly executed, but the Trustees had grown disobedient, and they would not perform the actions that would lead to their own demise.
Yet they could not entirely resist the powers of my Will. In time it twisted their natures ... and so unwittingly they came to work to my desired end.
‘But why me?’ asked Arthur. ‘Why choose me? Couldn’t you just have got a Denizen to do your dirty work?’
No. It had to be a mortal, someone who can create. Denizens were made directly by me, and can only copy. I made the basic stuff from which you mortals evolved, Arthur, with some tinkering here and there, but I did not make you directly ... and you mortals surpass even Us with your ideas.
‘Why do I need to be creative?’ asked Arthur bitterly. ‘I’ve done what you needed, haven’t I? I guess we can both just dissolve into Nothing now!’
Surely you know, said the Architect. You are the New Architect.
‘What!?’ exclaimed Arthur, though it was not really a surprise.
As the old Universe is destroyed, a new one is made. You will make it.
‘What if I don’t want to?’ asked Arthur quietly. He felt very much a boy again, alone and lost. ‘I liked the old Universe!’
That is your choice, said the Architect. Farewell.
The Architect shut her eyes and lay back, as if settling down to sleep. Nothing spread across her like a blanket. She smiled and pulled it up over her head, and then there was only Arthur’s light, the only light anywhere in existence.
Arthur looked at his hands.
‘How do I make a ... a Universe?’ he shouted.
The Keys answered him. Not in words. He felt their power coursing within him, and something changed in his head.
The boy who had been Arthur, and had become something more, finally completed his transformation.
He was no longer Arthur. He was the New Architect, and now he knew how to use his power, how to shape the stuff of Nothing, how to direct it on a cosmic scale.
He just had to decide what he wanted to make. The easiest thing would be to create a raw, new Universe of simple matter, mostly hydrogen, and set some basic reactions going. In a few billion years there would be suns and planets and perhaps, billions of years after that, the beginnings of organic life.
The New Architect was tempted by this. He could make that Universe, but accelerate things. He wouldn’t make the mistake of the Architect in separating a part of himself to speed things up. He would do it himself. It would be like tending a garden, with steady work in most of it, with special parts that got concentrated attention. It would be fascinating to see what grew, and he could direct it in particular ways ...