The Master of the Universe

By Washbourne Hall

Is there a god of the universe? is an age-old question that isnt yet answered satisfactorily.

A NASA scientist specializing in artificial intelligence, Dr. Ladislaw adores his mother for her high principles, and she adores her illustrious son. Her torture and death from cancer leaves him heartbroken.

Why is there such suffering if there is a god? This other question drives him to deny creation and embrace evolution.

Going beyond denial he decides to prove god doesnt exist by making a robot indistinguishable from humans. He succeeds, and the age-old question is answered for him from a surprising source.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 10, 2003
• ISBN: 9781465329288

Washbourne Hall

WASHBOURNE HALL’S prior novel, THE ENEMIES AT THE GATE, is a cogent commentary on the life of the young during the awkward years between youth and adulthood. And now in his new novel THE MASTER OF THE UNIVERSE, he has penned a provocative and penetrating novel which probes into the age-old question, Is there a god? And he has done it with humor. If you thought you had this question well and truly settled, be prepared to have the debate come alive all over again. And be prepared to be uproariously entertained. WASHBOURNE HALL is also the author of a book of poems entitled, THE OLD MAN OF THE HILLS, and other poems. He lives with his wife in Florida.

Book preview

THE MASTER

OF THE

UNIVERSE

A Novel

Washbourne Hall

Copyright © 2003 by Washbourne Hall.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

18748

Contents

CHAPTER ONE 

CHAPTER TWO 

CHAPTER THREE 

CHAPTER FOUR 

CHAPTER FIVE 

CHAPTER SIX 

CHAPTER SEVEN 

CHAPTER EIGHT 

CHAPTER NINE 

CHAPTER TEN 

CHAPTER ELEVEN 

CHAPTER TWELVE 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN 

CHAPTER NINETEEN 

CHAPTER TWENTY 

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE 

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO 

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE 

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX 

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN 

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT 

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE 

CHAPTER THIRTY 

THE ENEMIES AT THE GATE 

CHAPTER ONE 

BOOK SUMMARY 

AUTHOR BIO. 

Dedicated to my wife,

NOLA

with love and respect.

CHAPTER ONE

 

Dr. Bronson Ladislaw removed his gold-rimmed bifocals, the better to read the clock hanging on the wall. To his annoyance he discovered it was time to go.

Oh, brother! he grumbled at the swiftness of the passing hours. Where does the time go?

Confound that thin red line of a second hand racing around the dial representing the rapid, unceasing flight of time. There weren’t enough hours in a day to do the necessary things one has to do, let alone the things one does for fun. It was, therefore, insulting that the clock hanging there relentlessly proclaimed that the few score years allotted to us on earth were passing so swiftly.

Had creation been Dr. Ladislaw’s to improve, he would first convert night into day. Next, he would endow the human body with the capacity to go without sleep (sleep was such a colossal waste of time) thereby adding a third of a lifetime in which to achieve all of the things one wanted to. But he concluded that such speculations were unworthy of his scientific mind. Life had to be taken as is, limitations and all. Perhaps over countless eons and innumerable generations the continuing upward sweep of evolution would bring about equivalent transformations. Even as he mused, however, he was compelled to recognize the reality, for the caretaker had entered the laboratory and began to close the windows, each with a deliberate slam that jangled, reverberated and annoyed. Those noisy reminders were impossible to ignore.

Night, Doc! the caretaker said in a deep baritone as he came near to Dr. Ladislaw. And as he positioned himself to slam the next window he added, Doctor Givens is waiting. He slammed another window then added as a diplomatic nudge, Wonderful woman that. I wouldn’t keep such a lady waiting.

Dr. Ladislaw slipped off the white laboratory coat and put on his corduroy jacket with the patches on the elbows. With a gesture of frustration he ran his fingers over his forehead, past the receding hairline and up through the thinning hair. Only when he was on the way out did he recall that cessation of work in the university laboratory, which he did for a living, meant the beginning of research at home, which he loved and lived for. Suddenly glad for the clock that informed and the caretaker who disturbed, Dr. Ladislaw quickened his pace.

*

Dr. Martha Givens, a friend of Dr. Ladislaw’s from his earliest childhood, sat on the top tread of the flight of steps outside the laboratory building. Her back rested against one of the marble columns that formed part of the facade. Spread out before and below her like a colorful three-dimensional picture postcard were parts of the gardens, portions of the lawns and a few of the buildings visible in the distance. Here and there she saw students and faculty members gather to talk while others, like ants on the move, bumped or avoided bumping into each other on the way to or from one building or another.

Hello, Martha! She smiled and her eyes glowed. Martha was one of those hopeful souls who saw more humor in life than most people and responded to it. "Why didn’t you come in and get me?

She took up her pocketbook, smiled at him again and arose.

You’d be furious, she said, and paused. But I don’t mind, she added and paused again as if to challenge him with what she was going to say next, waiting on you.

Dr. Ladislaw took her arm. Like playful children, they scampered down the steps and wended their way along concrete pathways that ran through the gardens and across the lawns to the parking lot. On the way, they passed a solitary chili-pepper-red racing car parked some distance from the other cars in the lot. Through vigorous kisses and torrid embraces that made the little car rock and bounce, the youthful couple inside it communicated sentiments which words alone would inadequately, if at all convey.

I waited on you as a teenager, Martha continued as they scampered along, as a young woman, and through one whole marriage.

You’re the one who got married, he reminded her. You could have asked me. The rules have changed a long time ago.

Not for me, they haven’t. My husband has passed away a year and a half and I’m still waiting. Oh! she exclaimed upon observing his crimson flush. It’s so romantic when a grown man blushes.

Dr. Ladislaw turned his face away. You know I’d screw up your life if you ever let me in it.

Perhaps I don’t mind having my life screwed up … a little.

Dr. Ladislaw removed his jacket when they reached his car, folded it lengthwise and laid it on the back seat, on top of his briefcase.

Oh, to be young and in love, Martha said as they drove past the solitary little chili-pepper-red rocking, bouncing sports car. Have a good time, she shouted at the couple, knowing they could not hear her through the glass. And then she added, barely audibly, Who knows whether it will be love and romance, or waiting interminably after the kissing and the hugging stops.

Dr. Ladislaw drove slowly on campus until he entered the highway. Each admired the lush, green countryside dotted with pockets of colorful wild flowers in bloom rushing past, until a small animal tried to cross the highway. Martha screamed and covered her face. she thought the little animal was going to be crushed. Instead of the mangled body and blood she expected to see when she looked back, she saw that the little animal had escaped and was preparing to cross again.

Don’t! she shouted as another car was bearing down. The little animal waited as if it heard her. I hate death. And you, she spanked Bronson on the arm near her. You didn’t attempt to save it. such disregard for life is frightening. Life is sacred, Bronson.

Death and life are tools of nature, he said. That little monster may become dinner for a larger carnivore, and once eaten it will have served its purpose. And who knows what smaller animal that little devil was crossing over to devour. There’s nothing sacred about life.

The universe and everything in it, including life, was created from nothing. That makes it sacred to me.

Dr. Ladislaw laughed aloud. Something must have existed, Martha, a speck perhaps, from which all else evolved.

And who, I ask you, made that speck?

Dr. Ladislaw remained silent, thinking.

Where does this Almighty Master of the Universe comes from? he asked after a while. He created himself? Are there gods above him and gods below him? Can he fit a square peg in a round hole, or make light and dark exist together?

Martha knew he was mocking her.

I don’t know, Bronson. And if I knew everything about the Almighty Master of the Universe, as you just called him, I honestly couldn’t worship him.

Bronson laughed a mocking laugh. That’s the only time I could. Why couldn’t you?

As the heavens are higher than the earth, so should his ways and thoughts be higher than mine. A god I can completely understand wouldn’t be all that smarter than I am.

Science and circumstances had pushed Dr. Ladislaw’s faith into the shadows, making him a worshiper at the altar of Mother Nature. From all the evidence, he accepted that it was she who had performed every worthwhile change in the universe.

How could your dear mother, that tough old bird as she called herself, influence you in so many ways and not at all in this? Martha said. Bronson was about to respond, but she stopped him with a lifted a hand. Stop it, will you? Please!

Dr. Ladislaw snickered. You’re always the first to open up and always the first to shut down. Is that how it would be if we were married?

After that, they traveled in silence, she, marveling at the handiwork of the Almighty Master of the Universe on her side of the road, and he, marveling at the work of Mother Nature and evolution on his side until the car entered the city and he drove into a supermarket parking lot.

I hope you’re not going to get something to eat, she said, breaking the silence.

No. Why?

I planned on preparing supper for us at my place.

Thanks! he said and left. Just between us, he returned unexpectedly to say, surprising her, I like you. Very much.

Like! she said softly, and watched until he disappeared through the automatic sliding door of the supermarket. Isn’t there a better word you could use?

CHAPTER TWO

 

Inside the supermarket Dr. Bronson Ladislaw selected several packets of flashlight batteries.

I’d like to have these tested, he said, after having worked his way through the line up to the cashier.

We don’t … , the cashier, a teenage girl with braces on her teeth began.

Get me the manager, he bellowed.

Intimidated by the voice and the air of authority about this bespectacled, balding, important-looking gentleman she paged the manager over the intercom.

I’m sorry, sir, the manager said after listening to the cashier’s explanation. We have no facility to test …

Dr. Ladislaw raised his voice, attracting attention. The last time I bought batteries here …

Some were absolute duds, the manager volunteered quietly. That happens. Did you return them, sir? They’re guaranteed.

Testing would have prevented the inconvenience of …

Life has many inconveniences, sir. Frankly, I don’t know what to tell you, unless you’d prefer purchasing them elsewhere. Please excuse me. I’m a little busy right now, the manager said, and left Dr. Ladislaw to ponder that bit of polite rudeness. And thinking he was out of earshot, he added, There’s no pleasing some people, no matter how intelligent they look.

The customers heard the manager’s comment and laughed. Dr. Ladislaw also heard it.

Good god! said a fat woman as Dr. Ladislaw went after the manager. You’d think the man was purchasing gold.

You obnoxious little runt, Dr. Ladislaw said when he caught up with the manager. The manager was short and small.

Please accept my apologies, the manager said. I wasn’t referring to you, if that’s what you’re thinking. However, in this store the customer is always right no matter how wrong he may be. So if you think I offended you, you’re right and I apologize. He bowed, the bow accompanied by a flourish of his hand. The customers laughed again. This way, sir, if you’re taking the batteries. If not, I’ll be happy to return them to the shelf for you.

From the tone of the surrounding laughter, Dr. Ladislaw recognized he had already made too much of a fuss, and that the manager had succeeded in making him appear a little ridiculous.

I’m not going to fuss anymore, this time, he said quietly, returning to the head of the line with the manager.

Very generous of you, sir. Thanks! And not wanting to leave a quarrelsome customer to create additional disturbance in the store, he waited until Dr. Ladislaw had paid the cashier and exited. You’d think the man’s important, a rocket scientist or something, he said when Dr. Ladislaw was gone.

Quite a coincidence, said a man on the line. He happens to be important, and a rocket scientist.

Dr. Bronson Ladislaw was a NASA rocket scientist, one of the top men in his field. He received a doctorate in physics when he was twenty-six. Two years later, he became a full professor at the university where he had studied. Now at forty-eight, he was renowned for his application of artificial intelligence to machines that simulated the human ability to think and reason.

Taking care of him while he devoted his life to science was his mother whom he dearly loved. When he was thirty-four and making consequential progress in his field, she was diagnosed with cancer and died a year later after having endured the most horrendous physical suffering.

He had straddled the line that separated the believers in creation from those who didn’t, for he thought there was irrefutable scientific proof that changes occurred naturally over time without the intervention of an almighty. What drove him over the line was the perceived unfairness that this almighty permitted his mother to suffer while others more deserving of such a fate were up and about, raising the devil. As he saw it, nature was impartial, having neither favorites nor targets. A loving creator would not ignore the suffering of his own creation. The conclusion was obvious: there was no god.

Martha took the package when Dr. Ladislaw returned.

Can you imagine they haven’t a battery tester in that place? he complained, still annoyed.

Martha opened the package.

What on earth are you doing with … , she paused to count, twenty-four RayOVac Ultra Alkaline Rechargeable flashlight batteries? Give me a hint, she said sweetly, and I’ll let you use my battery tester … and my battery charger if you need one.

You have?

If you paid attention, you would have known.

*

When the car pulled up in front of her house Martha hopped out and coaxed Bronson to do the same, but he sat back playfully stubborn.

Not until you promise not to fish for information about my experiment. Martha promised not to fish. And nothing more about God.

Your wish is my command, she said.

She led him into a small room cluttered with scientific instruments, where she performed experiments more to enhance her teaching skills than to advance scientific knowledge. She took the battery tester from a cupboard and put it on a table. Test away. Call me if you need the charger.

After testing and finding all the batteries full of energy, Dr. Ladislaw wrapped them in a package. Now that he was free he roamed the first floor and saw that the dining table was spread for two, and beautifully decorated with candles and flowers, the chessboard set up in the living room, and Martha busy in the kitchen. He leaned against the kitchen door, folded his arms, and with a tight-lipped smile that said, I know what you’re up to.

He watched her whirl from stove to sink to kitchen counter in her black Japanese kimono embroidered in red, orange, avocado green and pineapple yellow. She looked wonderful, gorgeous, absolutely stunning.

When last have you had dinner with a woman? she asked him.

He laughed. I can’t recall having a decent dinner, let alone one with a woman.

Then relax. Enjoy. Tomorrow is Sunday. You don’t go to church so you can sleep late.

Bronson cracked a wry smile. Don’t think I’ll be able to.

May I ask, why not?

A gorgeous young woman with a glowing tan, eyes like black diamonds and teeth like pearls awaits me. He rested the packet of batteries on the furniture nearest him, entered the kitchen and caught her as she whirled from the kitchen sink to the stove. With a fingertip, she drew a line across his cheek and down to his chin, ending with a poke to complete a question mark. If you make it worth my while I’ll not go to see that gorgeous creature.

Martha turned away as his lips were about to touch hers.

Graduate of the old school that I am, I have to say ‘I do’ before I’ll do, she said, and escaped from his embrace. I think I’ll make you some sandwiches to take home.

He was amused and amazed that she didn’t recognize the ploy, considering the many times he had used it on her.

Martha was loving, affectionate, charming, and in love. Were the circumstances different Dr. Ladislaw probably would have succumbed. But they were so close, since he was six and she four, that he loved her as a sister and couldn’t bring himself to think of her as a lover. He was glad she had the strength to adhere to her principles and not abandon herself to a momentary emotional craving as some women in love might have.

All done, she said pleasantly, a little later, and presented the sandwiches wrapped in glistening aluminum foil. Have them with a glass of milk when you get home. He followed her to the door and she opened it. We could have had such a fabulous night of chess.

He kissed her forehead. She accepted the kiss with her eyes closed, perhaps imagining the passionate thing she refused to do.

Have a good time with her, she said.

Dr. Ladislaw knitted his brow.

With whom? he asked, his face a puzzle.

Never mind. Martha smiled at his absentmindedness. A gorgeous young woman with a glowing tan, eyes like black diamonds and teeth like pearls, she whispered while watching him walk to the car. Who on earth does he think he’s fooling?

Moments after his car disappeared she stood at the door and looked out into the gray of the evening, soon to turn to blackness. Twenty-four RayOVac flashlight batteries, she murmured. To do what in the world with?

CHAPTER THREE

 

The house in which Dr. Ladislaw was born and continued to live after his mother died had been central to the social life of that upstate New York community of elegant homes scattered across the most beautiful rural landscape. Cows as large as small boxcars grazed in the fields, and horses frolicked on the rolling plains. orchards, vineyards and market gardens abounded.

The house sat on twenty-five acres of land intensively cultivated by men who labored on it three days a week. They planted the crops in rotation and each grew in its own season. And when the crops matured and ripened and the flowers bloomed they were reaped and hauled off by greengrocers and florists who contracted to purchase the entire harvest year after year.

It was an old brick house consisting of two floors and a basement. For security, a mesh of burglar bars protected the windows and the back porch. The porch looked out on nature dressed in a hundred shades of green, or dotted with a profusion of seasonal colors, or blanketed with the most luminous snow in winter. A carved mahogany door, a work of art crafted by Dr. Ladislaw’s father, guarded the entrance. There was a grand staircase in the hall on which photographs of dignitaries, from the governor down to councilmen, were taken with his mother when the house was in its heyday.

Having dedicated his life to science to the almost total exclusion of everything else, Dr. Ladislaw neglected the upkeep of the interior after his mother passed. Naturally, the place degraded, the luster faded, and the social scene was scattered among several other elegant homes.

on the day that he disposed of his mother’s ashes in the gardens, he went into the house and closed the draperies, and