TITLE: The Last Deferred
GENRE: Science Fiction
The Ioi waited, silent, poised. Almost time, came the murmur that rippled through their ranks across the world in the time it takes a thought to spark from one synapse to another. It had been over two millennia since they had last acted, and the design they had woven was threadbare, indeed. When the machines started to churn and the skies blackened with soot, the Ioi began to trace the patterns of life backwards and forwards through time, searching for the right one.
They felt his birth late in the century and they waited, waited for him to ripen. And it was a long time, waiting. Not so long by the way that the Ioi measure time, but rather by the way that humans do.
The tiny being that imagined itself a god came shortly after his birth. What hubris to think that you controlled destiny, when you are but it's lowest tool? They felt the little god's meddling like steel wool upon their skin. They watched though, as it intersected with his life, and had to laugh. In order to have lived as long as the Ioi had among humanity, a sense of humor was imperative. Human beings really were quite ridiculous.