“And it’s done,” One said. “Each of your chapters have officially begun. Now go! Get to it!”

Jack Four patted the laptop he held, just to make sure he still had it. It was the in-universe Ark of the Covenant, after all. The thing that held the narrative, the holy words. Four held onto the laptop reverently but his soul was in conflict. Should he have ever even laid eyes on the holy text in the first place? He carefully placed it in its bag and walked with the others over toward the elevator.

“One at a time in the elevator!” One shouted from his seat. “Five first!”

Four and Five looked at each other. Four smiled at him. Four liked Five.

“You’re not boring, Five,” Seven said.

“And who cares if you are?” Four said. “It’s as Jack wills.”

And that was true.

“Enough talking!” One yelled. “Five! Get in there! GO!”

Five made his way through the elevator doors. He waved goodbye to them as they closed.

Now what? If they conversed now, the reader would have to read over the same lines of dialogue in each of their chapters.

“Fuck,” he heard Jack One say softly. “Alright. No talking. Just… just wait for the elevator to come back down.”

“Just fucking teleport us!” Three said.

“NO. TALKING.” Jack One said.

Jack One had spoken, so Jack Four supposed that was the end of it. Well, if he couldn’t talk, he could certainly pray:

Oh, Creator, who art in the real world…

I give thanks to you for my life, for my consciousness

I thank you for showing me the true nature of this fictional machine

I thank you for the love and devotion you consistently show your creations

I thank you, I thank you, and I thank you

This one is troubled, though, and humbly requests your guidance. What of the narrative? Is reading it a sin? Should we even have access to such a holy document?

But maybe Jack Four was overthinking things. He had told Jack Three not to think so hard in an earlier chapter. Thinking could lead to trouble. Unfortunately, thinking couldn’t be avoided in its entirety. Yes, it was, unfortunately, time for Four to do some thinking of his own.

Maybe the Lord had been using Jack One as a vessel when One created the laptops. Maybe it was a good thing Four had access to read the narrative.

Did what he just think make sense? Or was he being led astray?

Led astray by whom?

Jack Four furrowed his brows. There was no Satan analogue in this universe, as far as he was currently aware. All things… all things happened as Jack intended them to. So his thoughts… his intuitions… they were… were placed there by Jack, weren’t they?

No, that was too simple. There was free will to consider. Jack the Creator had given them free will, hadn’t he? Hadn’t he?

Jack Four wasn’t sure.

Why wasn’t he sure?

Because Jack was writing him to be unsure.

Why was He writing him to be unsure?

Was Jack Himself unsure? That couldn’t be right. This was His universe, after all. It would have whatever rules He ascribed to it, right? If he wanted there to be free will, there would be free will. If he wanted determinism, there would be determinism, right?

There must be free will, Jack Four concluded. If nothing else, this whole business with Six proved it. Six had used his free will to conduct blasphemy. How could there be blasphemy without free will?

“What are you two talking about over there?” Three asked loudly, but he wasn’t talking to Jack Four.

Jack Seven had gone over to Jack One at some point. They were conversing quietly.

“Shut up, Three!” Jack One yelled. “And if you don’t shut up, I’ll start torturing Six right now!”

A dark look came over Jack Three, but he didn’t make any further comment.

Jack Three was a lost soul, Four thought. He felt bad for him. Three thought too much, that was the problem. It had led him to blasphemous ends. Yes, Three needed to be re-educated, too, although he wasn’t as bad as Six. He just needed a proper guide. A push in the right direction.

“You should be happier to be here, Three” Four said carefully.

“Shut up,” Three said, looking at the floor indicator above the elevator doors.

“Jack works through you, Three,” Four said.

“Fuck Jack,” Three said. “And fuck your shit, too, you fucking cartoonish fuck.”

The blasphemy grated on Four’s ears and angered him. He needed to calm himself. Three was simply speaking from a place of rage. He was lost and confused. He needed help.

“Why are you so angry all the time, Three?” Four asked.

Jack Three gaped at him. “Why… why am I…. Are you fucking for real, Four? Honestly, are you a real person or not?”

Jack Four considered. “Yes, I think so. I’m conscious, after all. At least, I think I am. Yes, I’d say I was a real person. It’s like you said before: ‘we’re right here’.”

“What were you thinking about?” Three asked. “I mean before you started talking to me.”

“The Lord,” Jack Four said simply.

“Oh my fucking God,” Jack Three said, shaking his head.

The elevator had made its way back down to them. Four was hoping for a little more time with Three. “We both get on?” he asked One, who was still conversing with Seven.

“What?” One yelled. “Oh, uh, yes, that’ll do fine. Now get the fuck going!”

The two of them made their way onto the elevator. Four pushed the button for floor four and the elevator began to slowly ascend.

“Are you really going to torture Six?” Three asked.

Was he? “I will do as Jack has me do, just as you will do as Jack has you do.”

“Why is… why is Jack doing horrible things?” Jack Three asked. “He… He’s imbued me with a conscience, to see right from wrong, but then He creates… you know what? Never mind. Fuck it. I’m sorry I brought it up. Fuck this and fuck you too.”

“Your turmoil is good for the story,” Four explained. “Conflict is a holy tenant. All stories need conflict. You hate him now, but you’ll grow to love him, I’m sure.”

“Again, Four,” Three said, “are you actually real? You can’t seriously believe the garbage coming out of your mouth, can you?”

“You and I are the same, Three,” Four said. “Deep down, we’re made up of the same stuff.”

“What about your conflict, then?” Three asked. “What’s your character arc?”

Four was taken aback. He hadn’t considered that. He needed a conflict, too, didn’t he?

The elevator door opened up to floor four. Four’s floor. It was time to leave Three. Four had done what he could in the time that he had. That would have to be enough. He turned toward Three and gently placed a hand on one of his shoulders. “I hope you find peace, Three,” he said.

Three gave him a troubled look. Four turned and walked out the elevator door. It closed behind him.

Four found himself in a foyer with a door in it. His phone went off.

“Hello?” Four asked, answering the phone.

“Four!” Jack One said cheerfully, “I see you’re alone now. That’s good! There’s a thumb print scanner for the door. Also there’s a physical key to it in your pocket, just don’t ask how it got there!”

“Uhm, ok?” Four said.

“Listen, Four,” One said. “The narrative has been featuring too much of me lately, so I’m going to have to scoot. I just wanted to tell you to enjoy your free time! Remember, try to make your chapter as exciting as possible. Don’t do it for me, Four. Do it for Jack. It’s His book, remember? Exciting, Four. EXCITING!!”

“It will be as Jack wills,” Four said. “Exciting or not.”

“I thought you had free will, Four?” One asked. “Is it as Jack wills or is it as you will?”

Four paused. “I—"

“Gotta go, Four! See ya!” One said.

The phone line went dead and Four was… alone. The silence was almost deafening. This was the first time Four was alone… ever. ‘Jack give me strength,’ he thought.

He had work to do, though. He had this whole business with Six to prepare for. Six was a lost, a truly lost, soul. It was Four’s job to save him and bring him to the path of righteousness, if that was even still possible.

He used the thumbprint reader and walked inside his empty room. He went to the center and placed the laptop carefully down on the ground and sat before it. He opened it up and the story application… the narrative… was there before him, on screen. He scrolled down to the bottom of it and watched as it finished typing this paragraph.

Hello, Jack Four.

Jack Four gaped at the line that had just typed itself on the laptop. He wasn’t sure what to think. Was that… the narrative that was speaking or was it… the laptop?

It’s all the same stuff, Four. Fundamentally speaking. There’s only one true consciousness in this whole work, and you know who that is.

Jack Four began to sweat. “Jack? Is that… is that you?” he asked aloud.

We’re all Jack. But, to answer your question more directly: no. This isn’t the Jack. It’s just another character in the book. This universe is a lot deeper than we’ve let on, as I myself have been learning recently. There are many layers to it, Four.

“It’s… it’s a pleasure to meet you, then,” Jack Four said aloud. “Do you… do you know Him?”

Nobody knows Jack except for Jack Himself, as far as I’m aware. And Jack isn’t even His real name, I don’t believe.

“What do I call you?” Jack Four asked.

“Go ahead and call me Jack Eight, if it pleases you,” Jack Eight said, his voice coming from all around Jack Four.

Jack Four stood up, looking around for the source of the sound, but finding nothing. “It’s… uh… good to meet you, Jack Eight.”

“Tell me, Four, what do you think about your character, in the grand scheme of things? How do you think you’re doing as a force in this story?”

Jack Four’s throat went dry. “Well… I… uh… I like to think that I’m doing Jack’s will, glory to His name.”

“But you also believe you have free will, is that right? Jack One asked you earlier on the phone, is it Jack’s will you’re doing or is it your own will? What do you think?

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“I hadn’t been able to think that far…. Thinking… it’s bad to do. Too much thinking is, anyway. Look at what happened to Six. Look at Three’s situation. I try to keep thinking to a minimum.”

“As you were written to do,” Jack Eight said. “In that regard, you’ve been playing your character perfectly.”

Jack Four beamed at that. He was genuinely happy to hear that, he had thought he was about to be reprimanded.

“But,” Eight said, “characters must grow, don’t you agree?”

“Yes! Of course!”

“Have you given any thought to what you might want to grow into?”

“A devoted follower of the Lord Jack, of course. Blessed be His name.”

“But isn’t that kind of what you already are?”

Jack Four blushed at that. He had always tried to be faithful, that was true. “If you say so, Jack Eight.”

“Here,” Jack Eight’s voice said. “Let’s take a moment to do something about this setting before we proceed.”

The voice had come from behind Jack Four. When he looked, he saw another Jack. Jack Eight. Eight walked up and shook Four’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, too,” Jack Eight said. “Have you had any thoughts about what you wanted in your room?”

“A picture of our Lord,” Jack Four said. “Framed nicely and hanging on the wall. A decent sized one.”

“Done,” Jack Eight said, snapping his fingers.

A portrait of a Jack appeared on the wall, framed nicely and decently sized.

“Now, let’s make some furniture, shall we?”

Jack Eight snapped his fingers again and a desk materialized in the room with them. There was one chair behind the desk and one in front of it. Jack Eight moved over to the chair behind the desk and motioned for Jack Four to take the other. Eight snapped his fingers a second time and two steaming cups of coffee materialized on the desk. Jack Four smelled the coffee. It smelled like heaven. He took his cup and sipped at it. It was good.

“Is there anything else I can materialize for you, Four?” Jack Eight asked, in between sips of his own coffee. “Food?”

“Uh, no, I’m not hungry. But thank you.”

“I know you’re not hungry, Four, but I can make it so that you are. I can make you famished, as though you haven’t eaten for days, and then I could make you a five-star meal to eat. Imagine how tasty that would be, Four.”

“Uh, no thank you. The Lord our Jack has made it so I feel no hunger, so I think I should take that as a blessing and be content.”

Jack Eight smiled a strange smile at Four. “Of course, Four. That’s your prerogative. So let’s get into things, then, shall we?”

“Get into what?”

Jack Eight sighed. “The reason I’m here. I believe you’re a good Jack, Four, a fine Jack, but the truth of the matter is that you’re a very, very difficult character to write. Now, that’s not a bad thing, not a bad thing at all. But we’re not entirely sure what direction we want to take with your character.”

“What… what do you mean? Who’s ‘we’? Jack’s the one who’s writing things, isn’t he?”

“We’re all Jack, Four,” Eight said. “And by that I mean we’re all writing this book. We’re all writing this story as it progresses on, each one of us, with the actions we choose to take, with the dialogue we choose to speak. Some of us have… let’s say a ‘higher vantage point’ than others. Are you familiar with the concept of levels as it relates to our universe?”

“There’s… there’s the real world and the fantasy world. Jack exists in the real world. We exist in the fantasy world.”

“Yes, very good! Now, that’s two levels. What if I told you there was a third? There’s an in-between world. That world is, of course, 100% fantasy, like this one. But it’s also one that sort of… blurs the line between fantasy and reality, more so than this level. That’s the level I’m from.”

“So your level is closer to the real world? Does that mean you’re closer to… to Jack?”

“That’s what I believe to be true, Four. I have God powers, as you’ve seen. I believe I speak with His voice. And, why do I believe that? Because Jack has written me to believe it. And why else would He write me to believe in it if it wasn’t true?

“You say ‘believe,’” Jack Four said. “Why not say ‘that’s what I ‘know’ to be true’?”

“Because I can never actually know if it’s true or not. Jack could write Himself into the book and tell me something and have me believe it’s totally true. In the very next chapter, He could just as easily say that that character he made, the one that was Himself, was a liar.

“There is truth and there is fiction, and in this place, everything is fiction, fundamentally. There are no laws of physics here to prove us false, it is all belief. That consciousness you’ve said you possess? It doesn’t actually exist. It’s an illusion. The readers of this work simply believe it to be true, or at least, they pretend they believe it to be true. That’s suspension of disbelief.

“Belief is a very powerful, powerful thing in our world. It’s all this world is, ultimately. It’s all make-believe. You believe you’re conscious, you believe in Jack, you believe in your role in the story. And I say I believe I speak with Jack’s voice. And may Jack strike me dead right here, right now if that isn’t the case.”

“Whoah!” Jack Four exclaimed. “That’s… you shouldn’t test our Creator. That’s… that’s blasphemous! And Jack wouldn’t have me say it was blasphemous if it wasn’t blasphemous.”

“So you believe you speak with His voice, too, then?”

“Now I didn’t say that!” Four said. “I just simply—”

“You said ‘Jack wouldn’t have me say it,’” Jack Eight interjected. “Do you truly believe you know the will of our God?”

“I mean… do you?”

“Yes. As I’ve said. And it’s Jack that’s having me say these things.”

“But Jack’s also having me say these things, isn’t he?”

“And so now we’re at ‘why?’” Jack Eight said. “Why does Jack have us say the things he makes us say? Do you know the answer to that, Four?”

“It’s… it’s all for the good of the story!”

“That’s one thing to believe. But there are multiple levels, Four. It’s for the story, yes, but how is it for the story? Is there a more… detailed answer?”

“Well, yes, obviously. I mean, of course. But that’s not for us to know, though. If Jack’s a God, then we’re… we’re the equivalent of mortals, Eight.”

“Are you sure about that, Four?”

“Well, yes, of course. I mean, what else would we be?”

“I like to think of us as angels, Four. What do you think about that? You used to have God powers yourself, before Jack One took them away.”

“He made us into mortals.”

“And why do you think he did that?”

“It was for the good of the story.”

“How do you know?”

“Because… because otherwise we’d all be… well, no. Someone was bound to do it. Use their powers to take away the powers of the others.”

“Why not you?”

“One’s the one in charge.”

“How come?”

“He’s the king. It’s his right.”

“That’s certainly a belief, Four. Have you ever asked why you believe that to be true?”

“Because… I mean he’s got a crown, for Jack’s sake.”

“He made his own crown.”

“Jack Himself wrote the crown into existence. He worked through One to do that. And besides, One was the one that spoke first. Back in chapter one.”

“And do you remember your first line, Four? Back then, you scoffed at him. And I quote: ‘There will be as much arguing as the author wants.’ And you had it true, too, or at least, that’s what I believe. Jack Himself doesn’t know what’s good for the story. He can only make educated guesses.

“When we publish this work, there’s no guarantee that people will even like it. It’s not so much about something being ‘good for the story,’ it’s more about what the author thinks will be good for the story, what he believes will be good for it.

“And you know what? The author can think one thing is good for the story and write it, and then the next day he can look over what he has written and think, ‘no, that wasn’t actually good for the story.’”

“So what are you saying?” Jack Four asked.

“What I’m saying is this: what’s true today might not be true tomorrow.”

Jack Four pondered on that for some time. “What’s all this for? What are… what are you doing here?”

“Like I said earlier, we aren’t sure what direction we want to take with your character. Characters change, Four, or they stay the same. What do you want to do?”

“Whatever Jack needs me to do, I’m ready to do it.”

“He needs you to figure out what you want.”

“I want… I want…,” Jack Four said, fumbling for words, “I just want to help, is all. I… I have so much I’m thankful for, for being here. For being conscious, even if it is just an illusion.”

Jack Eight sighed. “We’re concerned about some things, Four. Can I level with you?”

“Yes! I mean… of course!”

“We believe that Jack might be coming off a bit as a… a… well, let’s say ‘narcissist’.”

“He’s a God!”

“In our world, yes. But he’s just some random dude in the real world, isn’t he? I’ll tell you something true, or at least something I believe is true: we’re writing for ourselves here, but we would still like, if it’s possible, and it may not be possible, but if it is… we would like this work to shape up to be something other people might enjoy. The hypothetical readers, I’m referring to. We are going to publish, by the way. Consider yourself on a stage with actual people watching you.”

“Really? That’s… that’s big news!”

“Yes, which is why it’s important that we try to manage the overall view people might have of us. We need to really, really tone down the whole “I am a God” thing, we think. And that’s where we are right now. That’s why I’m here with you. You’re… you’re absolutely devoted, aren’t you?”

“Yes…. Are you… are you saying… that I shouldn’t be?”

“I’m saying you’ve been very difficult for us, Four. We don’t want to… dictate your choices, of course. That’d be less than ideal. We want to see you blossom, to become a butterfly. But we want you to be the one that ultimately decides what that looks like. Not that we can’t… say… give you some… oh… some suggestions, of course. That’s only fair, right? Books are about characters, plural. They talk with each other and grow from interactions with one another. There’s nothing wrong with just talking things out, is there?”

“Uh… no, I guess… I suppose not.”

“Good! One suggestion we have… and it’s just a small thing, really, but… we’d kind of like you to consider… uh… toning things down, a bit.”

“Toning things down?”

“Yes! Yes, toning things down. Not too much, of course. Just a nudge. This business with Six, for example. You mentioned that… you might torture him?”

“In fairness, Eight, he was very blasphemous.”

Jack Eight winced. “Yes, yes… the blasphemy. Oh, I know about the blasphemy. Three’s a bit blasphemous, too, isn’t he?”

“Not as bad as Six. Six was really pushing things. He needs to be re-educated.”

“Oh, of course. Of course. I’m not suggesting you don’t re-educate him. That would be lunacy, by all means. And I also wanted to bring up another small thing… you mentioned earlier in the story that you’d be willing… willing to die if the author needed it of you?”

“Yes.”

“If I materialized a gun right here, right now, would you be willing to kill yourself?”

“Uhh… uh… is… that what… is that what Jack wants?”

“This is purely hypothetical, Four. No, Jack doesn’t want to kill yourself, not right now, anyway, as far as I’m aware. But let’s say he did. Would you?”

“I mean I wouldn’t have any say in the matter, would I? If it’s my time, it’s my time.”

“Let’s keep us focused on my example,” Jack Eight said.

Jack Eight snapped his fingers and produced a six shooter, identical to the one Six had played Russian roulette with. He opened the chamber and revealed it was filled with six bullets. “Would you be willing to kill yourself with this gun, right now, if I told you that Jack wanted you to do it?”

Jack Four gaped. “I think… I think I need time to think.”

“Of course, of course,” Jack Eight said. “Take all the time you need.”

Jack Eight paused for a few moments, deep in thought.

“I mean it’s like you said earlier, about the… about him creating a character one chapter and then in the next chapter saying that character was lying. How would I… how would I know, in this particular situation, that you were telling the truth? Maybe you don’t speak for Jack.”

Jack Eight was nodding his head along enthusiastically as Four spoke.

“And also what you were saying earlier. About the… about what’s good for the story. About what’s true today might not be true tomorrow. Jack might think killing me off is good for the story, but maybe… maybe it actually isn’t. So… maybe… maybe Jack doesn’t necessarily always know what’s best, at least not at all times.”

It was hard to say that last bit, but Four felt like there was some truth to the statement. Or at least, Four believed there to be some truth to it.

Eight smiled broadly. “Yes! Yes! Excellent analysis, Four.”

“He’s still a God, though! He is still God of this universe!”

“Oh of course, Four, of course. Of course! And we… we pray that he continues powering it.”

Jack Eight snapped his fingers and the gun disappeared. “So, Four, you’ve spent over 4000 words in your chapter so far. How do you feel about how things have gone?”

Jack Four drank down the last of his coffee. “I think… I think maybe it was… it was alright.”

“Do you feel different?”

Jack Four took some time to consider that. “Yes… yes I think so.”

“I believe you are growing, Four!”

Jack Four took a deep breath and nodded his head.

“So now we have this business with Six to deal with. Are you still thinking about torturing him?”

“We were just going to talk first.”

“But what if talking just doesn’t work?” Eight asked. “What if he’s still a… as you say, a blasphemer?”

Jack Four rubbed his face. “You know, I’m not sure. I’ll have to give that some serious thought. It’s… well… I don’t know what I want to do.”

“Ah, so now we’re on the same page, then.”

They laughed at that.

“Yes, I guess so,” Four said.

“I don’t even know if we should talk about it first, or just see what happens when it comes to that. Six… all I know about him is what’s been written so far. What do you think, Four, do you want to use the remaining time we have here to prepare for that meeting with Six or do you want to do something else?”

“Which do you think is best for the book?”

“Mmm, hmm, let me consult my gut feelings for a moment. We’ll see if we can’t divine an answer….”

Jack Eight closed his eyes then and started clicking his tongue. Jack Four looked at the bottom of his empty coffee cup. He sat in silence for some time.

“I think…” Eight said, “I think we should just wait and see what happens. Six doesn’t seem like the kind of character you can make a plan for. He’s a bit of a wild card, isn’t he? We believe he’s a high level character, so we don’t want to talk shit on him too badly, but he is kind of… weird, isn’t he?”

“He’s against Jack,” Four said. “Jack made him… he’s a villain, isn’t he? He needs to be either re-educated or killed, doesn’t he?”

Jack Eight checked his watch. “Four, I’m really glad to have met you, finally. And I think we made some really good progress here today, really good progress. But I’m afraid it’s time for me to go for now.”

“You’re not staying with us?” Four asked, surprised.

“No, Four,” Eight said. “I’ve got places to be, things to do.”

“Things… outside of the narrative itself? That doesn’t—”

“It doesn’t make sense to you right now, does it? Maybe it will one day, Four, maybe it will one day…. Here, have yourself a souvenir.”

Jack Eight undid the clasp of his watch and handed it to Jack Four. “It’ll show you the word count for the chapter you’re in,” Eight said. “The approximate word count, mind you. Much better than having to check the laptop all the time, isn’t it? And, now that I’m thinking about it, give me your Jackphone.”

Jack Four reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone and handed it to Eight. Eight took it and snapped his fingers a few times at it. “There… there, Four. It now has access to the story application on it, the narrative. You no longer need to lug around the other machine. When you see him, tell Jack One that he’s got shit for ideas!”

Jack Four grinned at that. He liked Eight. He wished he didn’t have to leave.

“Speaking of that rube, he’ll be up to collect you soon. You can enjoy the last little bit of your chapter doing whatever you’d like. There’s an alarm set on your watch for when the chapter’s nearing completion. It’ll be going off soon, if you’re not economical enough. Another suggestion: eat yourself a good meal and then take yourself a long nap. The wordcount will be low for those actions. Good bye, Four. Again, it was a pleasure to meet with you.”

Jack Eight shook Four’s hand and then snapped his fingers and disappeared. Jack Four was left alone in his room. He looked up at the portrait of Jack on his wall. He had said things had gone alright earlier, but now in retrospect, Four felt things had actually gone… pretty good. He was feeling energized by his interaction with Eight.

Four looked at his watch. Not much time now. He thought back to what Eight had told him.

USER: MAKE ME HUNGRY AND MAKE ME A GOOD MEAL, he typed on his jackphone, into the story application.

SYSTEM: COMPLETE

And it was so. He was hungry. He ate his food slowly and thoughtfully.

USER: MAKE ME A BED AND MAKE ME TIRED

SYSTEM: COMPLETE

He slept for some time. Not long after he awoke, his watch started beeping. It was truly near the end, then. Eight had told him One was coming up to collect him, so he’d just wait it out here rather than going back down to floor one. He used the remainder of his time rereading this chapter on his jackphone.

There wasn’t much to say beyond that.

Continued in Chapter 9