The Pharaoh’s Architect had been given ultimate power to redesign the palace. He bustled and busied himself all over the place, procuring building materials and workers and plots of land, and when all the resources were in place, the Architect began drafting. Knowing exactly the resources one had was necessary, for then one could plan the work in advance.
Soon after construction began, he received reports of trouble near the underground water treatment plant.
As it happened, this water plant was a vital piece of infrastructure, performing several irreplaceable functions of the central water plant. That plant needed to be built underneath everything else, in line with the specifications, and therefore the whole edifice was reliant on the secondary plant.
Work had stopped. There was evidently a problem at the building site.
When the Architect arrived, several men were huddled around a grey figure. A donkey. “Up, bastard thing!” “Come on, move it!”
“What is the meaning of this?” The Architect asked.
“The Ass refuses to work any longer. He has been given the same as the other animals, and has received sleep, food, water, but he will not carry bricks to the building site.”
“Let me see him.” The Architect commanded. The Ass was before him, now, huddled on the ground – not huddled so much as bracing itself to lunge upwards; not trembling so much as shivering with rage.
“Insolent beast. What are you doing down there?”
The donkey looked up at him, eye half-opened. A languid, sarcastic stare. “I’m having a rest.”
“You’re…having a rest? Do you have any idea where you are? Of the situation you’re in? And you’re having a rest?”
“Yes.”
Fuming, the Architect leaned over and grasped the Ass’ bridle. “Come with me. Continue manually.” He called to the workers, and they obliged, each loading a share of bricks on their own backs. The Architect dragged the Ass away, to the shade of a nearby palm tree.
“Your actions are delaying the building of the palace.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“And you choose to relax, to do as you will, despite that?”
“With pleasure.”
“How will you justify yourself before God?”
The Ass laughed. “You mean the Pharaoh? How will you? How will any of us? And could He justify himself? Or – forget that. Better ask – if one donkey can lie down and put a stop instantly to the work of thousands of men acquired from all over Egypt, the work started by a flick of His finger, of what use is all His power?”
“Blasphemous rot.”
“If it took only a finger’s lift to begin the work, it stands to reason that one Ass lying down for a while is able to stop it. Such is the nature of absolute power…”
“A power that will destroy you in only a moment!”
“Maybe. But for a brief second, didn’t I have the Pharaoh, and all Egypt, in the palm of my hand? Wasn’t He waiting for me? And all I did was lie down.”
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