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and the creature would be left wondering, and that wondering would leave a mystery. So my universe would have logic and rationality and organizational principles, but it would also have spirituality and mystery.
    Three laws. I floated about the interior of Aalam-104729, squeezing the vacuum here and there to see if the laws held, and they did. No loose parts or inconsistencies. I was satisfied with what I had done. More than satisfied. In retrospect, creating a principled universe did not seem so difficult. I had been concerned for no reason. I was eager to make a fourth law. Perhaps I’d do a dozen. Or two dozen.
    What should I do for my fourth? Uncle Deva wanted harmony. My symmetry principles were already harmonious, but I could do better. I divided the ubiquitous energy into parts, each with its corresponding force, and I ordered the forces in a progression from the weakest to the strongest. All right. Harmony. I decreed that each force in the progression was stronger than the preceding force by a constant ratio, like an even-tempered musical scale. Done. What could be more harmonious! But, almost immediately, the universe began writhing and straining. Space fissured. Pieces of emptiness screamed through the tears. Shortly thereafter, the universe turned inside out and was gone, and I found myself standing beyond in the Void. Evidently, the fourth law was not compatible with the first three. The constant ratio of forces, although beautiful, contradicted the even greater beauty of embedded relativity. Looking about, I saw that, fortunately, Aunt and Uncle were nowhere within sight. Quickly, I caught another universe of roughly the same size and shape as Aalam-104729, pinched it slightly at its midsection as I’d done before, and gave it my first three laws. Three it would be, and no more. I wouldn’t make that particular blunder again.

A Soul for the Universe
    When Aunt Penelope and Uncle Deva saw the cosmos I’d made, with its three laws, they were not displeased.
    Well, what we got? said Uncle, looking more rumpled than usual. He held the universe up and squinted at it from all sides. Although it appeared nearly the same as before, it had a new heft, he announced, and it vibrated with a higher frequency. Yes, said Uncle, the three laws seem to be agreeing with the thing.
    It’s because He’s taking His time, said Aunt, like I told Him to do. You take your time, and you can do good work. You rush into things, and you might destroy a whole universe. What a pity that would be.
    Uncle Deva passed the new Aalam-104729 over to Aunt Penelope, who began her own inspection. She rolled it over on its side, turned it upside down, spun it around. It was still expanding, getting bigger every moment. She nodded her approval. So, Nephew, she said. What’s next?
    It’s still empty, I said. Perhaps it’s time to start putting things into it.
    If I may make one last suggestion, said Uncle Deva. You say that your universe has a spirit. I don’t follow all of that folderol of causal connections and so forth. You always defeat me in those kinds of explanations. Be that as it may, I would be grateful if you give your universe a
soul
. You need to make sure that everything in the universe is connected not just to other things, but to
you
. You are the Maker, after all.
    I don’t feel that’s necessary, I said. I know I’m the Maker. But there’s no reason my creations need to know it. You know it. Aunt Penelope knows it. That’s sufficient.
    Don’t be modest, said Aunt Penelope. For once, I agree with your uncle. You are the Maker of everything. Your creations should understand that. They should have some awareness of you and your infinities. And it’s not just about you. It’s about our family, all of us here in the Void, our reputation. You’re an artist, Nephew. Deva and I appreciate your artistic work, but that’s a small audience.
    Aunt Penelope, please. I haven’t decided whether I’m going to make any living