Ewig slipped into her sister’s laboratory and shuffled through the stacks of universes that were kept there. Siorai had them labeled meticulously, so it wasn’t difficult to find the one she was after. It was the one Siorai was most proud of - her greatest achievement, she kept saying - and the only one Ewig had never been allowed to look at.
Ewig and Siorai had competed with each other from the first moment they blinked into existence. Their latest quarrel had been whether or not peace was possible. Momentary peace, sure, but Ewig maintained that sustained periods without some sort of conflict were impossible even among the most simplistic of lifeforms. Siorai had set out to prove her wrong, by creating thousands universes on flat bits of crystal, which she would then spend hours projecting and magnifying to observe.
Ewig and Siorai had worked together at first, just learning how to create these models. It was Ewig who had finally come up with the method for creating complex systems, which could be magnified billions of times. Siorai had at first been content to work harmoniously with Ewig, until the first five universes were destroyed by the life-forms within them. Since then, most of Siorai’s time was spent in the lab, trying to perfect the model that would prove Ewig wrong. Siorai had recently begun bragging about her latest universe, and that she was certain that it was the one that would “prove peace.” Ewig, however, had her doubts. Why else would Siorai be so content to show off every failure, but would not allow even one tiny peek at her first success? Ewig slipped the flat crystal in the magnifier and fiddled with the zoom controls, until finally, a swirling ball of blue, brown, and white came into view.
****
Emma shook her head sadly at the images on her TV. Over and over she watched the planes hit, the towers fall. Smoke and rubble and screams filled the screen while a voice over reminded the viewer that no matter what the government said, the attacks that had happened ten years ago could still happen. Every September, the day would be replayed, lest anyone alive at the time forget, and every September, new threats arose around the impending anniversary.
Emma was still staring at the TV when her sister slipped in behind her and wordlessly plucked Emma’s six week old son from her hands. “You’re obviously distracted," Lisa said. “Let me take Evan for you." Emma flashed Lisa a smile of gratitude, and gestured at the TV.
“No matter how many times I see it, I just can’t turn away."
“I know," Lisa said. She rubbed her face on Evan’s hair and inhaled deeply. It had taken then years to save up the money for the IVF to have him. Both of them had squirreled money away since that fateful day when Emma’s husband had been carried out of the rubble of one of the fallen towers, barely alive. His final request had been that doctors preserve some of his sperm, so that someday his wife could have the son or daughter they’d just begun to discuss having. It had taken eight years and three attempts, but finally, Emma had given birth to her little miracle. Lisa had been by her side the whole way, mourning the loss of her own partner, and vowing to help her sister raise the new love of their lives.
“Do you think the threats are valid this time?" Emma asked.
Lisa closed her eyes for a moment and let the weight of Evan’s body settle her. Then she sighed and shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t want to think about it. I’m not sure I’m strong enough for another day like that."
Emma wiped a stray tear from her cheek and then took her son from her sister. “Then let’s not think about it. It’s a nice day out. Let’s take Evan to the park."
Lisa gave a shaky smile, and said, “Sure. Let me grab my jacket while you get Evan’s stroller ready."
*****
Ewig watched the bizarre scene before her, then replayed it. She zoomed in, until she could make out every hair on the infant’s head, and back out again until all she saw was an apartment building in a row of apartment buildings.
This was the peace Siorai had claimed to create? She studied the images in the box the two women had been so fascinated by. Death, over and over again, and all of it caused by war. She’d seen similar acts in other universes, but it was especially jarring to see it here, in the universe where Siorai had claimed she had finally achieved peace. Ewig zoomed out and found another group of the strange hominids to observe, and saw the same scene, over and over: people looking at images of death, and then going on with their lives as usual. Many seemed to be particularly fixated on spending time with others of the same genetic line. Even on different continents, the pattern was much the same. In fact, almost every part of the world that had access to the strange image-boxes had at least a handful of people replaying the scenes of death. Ewig was still trying to find evidence of the peace Siorai had bragged about when Siorai herself came sprinting into the laboratory.
“What are you doing?!" she asked, horrified.
Ewig spun around to confront her sister. “You lied."
Siorai shook her head. “No. I didn’t. There’s peace. What did you watch first?"
“Two women, with a baby," Ewig said.
“Tiny apartment, on the continent they call North America? City called New York City?" Siorai asked.
“Yes. They were called Emma and Lisa."
“I know them well,” Siorai said with a faint smile. “I’ve set the magnifier to go to them first. They’re my proof, see. So much pain, so much loss, and yet they are so happy, so content."
“They’re fixated on war," Ewig argued.
“They’re proof that there’s something stronger than war. They are peace."
Ewig gestured at the disk and said, “That’s not peace. That’s one set of sisters. Do they never fight?"
“No," Siorai admitted. “But they forgive each other, and move on. They might have conflict, but they always return to peace."
“I thought the challenge was for sustained peace. I still maintain that you’ve failed."
“They’re the first universe with a planet where the people keep trying."
“What about the other planets in this simulation?" Ewig asked.
Siorai blushed. “Don’t bother with those; they’re just like all the rest I’ve made."
“So what’s so special about this one?" Ewig gestured again at the magnifier, which had now zoomed out to show the swirling ball once again.
“They keep trying," Siorai said.
“And failing," Ewig finished for her.
Siorai turned and faced the projection screen, with the white swirls of clouds so similar to the smoke from the towers that had almost prompted her to scrap the whole project. She sighed sadly. “Isn’t it enough that they keep returning to peace? If they don’t have conflict, they can’t appreciate it."
“You’re making an argument for war, now?" Ewig asked.
Siorai sighed. “You’re right." She zoomed back in on the sisters with the baby. They were chatting happily while the baby dozed in his stroller. There was so much this world had accomplished. So many things they’d taught her, about learning and innovation and perseverance. Unfortunately, the thing they seemed to be most determined about was creating conflict between their periods of rest.
She plucked the crystal from the magnifier and studied it cool black surface.
“They’re not even pets, you know," Ewig reminded her.
“I know," Siorai said. “And you’re right - they’re not my greatest success. They’re my greatest failure."
She took one final look at the darkness pulsed and throbbed within the crystal, and then sighed. She clenched her fist around it, and watched as the dust sifted through her fingers to the ground. As the last bits fell and then winked out if existence, she turned to her sister and grinned.
“So ”" what’s your next challenge for me?"