Write a story in which a decision cannot be undone.

THE FINAL DECISION ABOUT CREATIVE ACTS        By Lawrence Cromwell

 “This is the decision I’ve prepared my whole life to make. It will affect all of our kind who are now living and all who come after us,” Jador announced to himself. He knew that the consequences of the decision he was preparing to manifest would fall directly on his head now but could either break a chain of unbelievably horrific suffering which extended back into antiquity now or extend the heartless behavior visited on his kind on into the future. Only Jador could make the decision, and it all came down to this momentous point in his life.

Within Jador’s species, there was a decision point repeated only once every Eon. When the time arrived, an individual was chosen to decide how he would spend his own life and to affect the lives of countless others to follow (or not). This was not a planned event within his kind, but basically an inevitable outcome of their reproductive cycle in response to the supply and demand of nature. With or without his consent, his action within the next few moments would dictate the rebirth of an entire species or its quick demise. Either way, Jador would not live to see the next generation.

As he approached the Arena of Fate, he found himself completely immersed in the overwhelming ocean of pheromones suffusing the final plot of ground, his destiny. He was dizzy from the pressure of his natural calling but had taken upon himself to be the soul decider of his actions. What was he to do? On the sacred ground he approached, the deed he was expected to execute had been repeated countless times throughout the history of his race with the same results. Did he really have a choice? So many depended upon him to make the right choice. How could he turn his back on a tradition that affected his entire race so profoundly?

Short of the end of his journey, he stopped dead and rested. He could feel the uproar from his kind begging him to get on with his job, his fate. This had never happened before. What was causing him to pause and debate the outcome? His mind filled with the outcry of a tradition going back to the very beginnings of everything in his memory. For Jador, the simple question came, “Why me? Why should I be responsible for the continuance or the demise of my kind? But it was his and only his decision to make and time was growing short to carry out that duty or not. How could he even question the necessity of his part in the ritual? But it was his decision alone. That was non-negotiable.

Jador, having rested, but not having decided, knew that if he hesitated much longer, he would be making the decision by default. As time was quickly running out, his options were also disappearing. If he was late by even a short time, it could mean the doom of his kind.

Now, he entered the arena. A short march forward was the object of his journey. She towered impossibly large over him, not even acknowledging his existence, and definitely not questioning the ultimate climax of the event. She was the source of the intensely rich abundance of pheromones surrounding him. It was all he could do as he approached her to maintain any self-control.

When he reached the left hind foot of the gargantuan female, she deigned to notice his presence, and he executed his short ritual of ritual rhythmic tapping on her foot to gain her permission. She signified her permission by allowing him to proceed. Then began the arduous climb up that foot and on toward the beginning of her leg. Reaching the actual leg, he once again stopped and executed a new sequence of tapping to ask for the right to continue his climb. Once again, at her knee and still later, he stopped when it was time to proceed to her reproductive organs. At this point, for Jador, the end was approaching. A short dispatch of his duty, the contribution of the precious liquid and he would be finished.

Finished in more ways than one. For he knew what the consummation of his part of the bargain would bring. She would quickly remove his head, less strenuous than picking a grape for larger animals. And there was the sticking point for Jador. Why should he actually finish the deed, with no more thanks than his quick decapitation? Not even a celebratory kiss, a cigarette or toast as some other species would engage in. His part would be completed, he would be killed and eaten while she got to bask in the limelight of becoming the Queen and soul generator of the next generation. How was this fair? As he considered this gross injustice, he heard a thunderous voice from above.

“Hey! What’s going on down there? Is it in yet?”

“Ha! Very funny!” Jador said while he thought to himself, can she not even tell what’s going on down here? At that moment, a powerful tool for justice had just formed in his mind.

He said, “Just a moment. I’m preparing to do my part.”

She replied, “Well, hurry up. I don’t have all day and this is important!”

“How important can it be? I don’t hear Wolf Blitzer announcing the great news or Harry Enten giving a statistical breakdown of the size of the swarm about to be conceived.”

“Hairy Ants? What?”

“Never mind. Just give me another minute!”

Jador made some loud noises to indicate that he was busy conceiving the next brood. Then he said, “That’s it! I’m done!”

The voice from above said, “Well, it’s about time! Let’s get the rest of this over with!”

As his giant partner made to bend down to finish him off, Jador said, “Wait! Are you sure you want to kill me?”

She said, “What’s to be sure of? You’re finished, now it’s my turn. I remove your head, go give birth to a new race of PM’s and history moves forward.”

Jador said, “Not so fast, Queen. I didn’t really do what you expected me to do. I was faking it! How about that?”

“Faking it? What on Earth were you thinking?”

“I was thinking about getting a little respect before consenting to do my important job.”

“I don’t believe you. And to prove it, I’m going to go ahead and call your bluff and kill you any way, the usual way!”

“Too bad, Queen. I have one last move to check your move.” With that, Jador had the last laugh and proved that he did, in fact, have a choice after all by diving straight down to the floor beneath him and killing himself.

Thus, history was made or unmade.