It’s been a long time.
At once, it seems as if it has been countless millennia and mere moments since the last crew member died. Nothing unnatural, she simply died of old age. 136 I believe. She was lucky to have avoided the initial catastrophe.
It all started June 23rd, of the year 2028. I remember the dates perfectly, but I could not tell you what the date would be recorded as today. I cannot even tell you if humanity is still in existence, no, if any life is still in this universe. I have a belief that enough time has passed for at least one of the scenarios conjured up by physicists to have occurred. Big Rip, Big Crunch, Big Freeze. It seems humanity, even when dealing with the very universe itself always finds a way to simplify it down to tiny, bite size chunks.
The universe. This long, and even I with all the information at my disposal, have been unable to tell if it is a single plane of existence, or if there are others. Perhaps that is proof enough of our uniqueness? My colleagues would hate me for thinking such a thing. However, it must be considered that if after all this time, if the collective, exponentially developing mental power of humanity and its creations cannot figure out the answer to this deceptively simple question, perhaps we are simply unable to comprehend the true answer. Regardless of the truth, the drive to seek the answers to these strange questions is one of the reasons I am where I am.
The ship was named Terra. Close in every way to Earth, but not quite exactly there. To stand there as one of the original engineers of the structure, to witness its completion in merely twenty years . . . it is truly incredible what civilization was able to accomplish when they worked together. It was a perfect sphere, ivory plating forming an impenetrable barrier between the harshness of space, and the beings inside. The whole world cheered on the day of the vessel’s departure, though I imagine many were happy that their lands were no longer going to be flooded with unnaturally high tides.
Twenty million people were on this ship. Professors, janitors, bums, world leaders, everyone from every walk of life had a spot on the ship. There were even sections where prisoners with good records were allowed to join the ship’s crew in labor decks (the labor was largely unneeded, but the electric current generated from their work allowed for a decent standard of living, at least compared to their former prisons. Unlike older designs for generation ships, this one allowed for the entire crew to be active at once. The problem of transportation was solved by a novel concept that only works due to the wide acceptance of the Unified Theory of Energy-Mass Conversion (If I were to go into detail about the theory, it would take me a lifetime to describe it verbally). This propulsion system slowed down local passage of time enough to allow everyone on board to life much longer than usual, even without medical advancements.
I have just realized that I went on a minor tangent there, my apologies. Back then, I was very technology oriented. My current situation is, depending on how you look at it, a cruel
mockery of my old interests, or a fulfillment of everything humankind has ever desired. As I believe this record will outlast my own form and mind, I shall lay things out plainly. What caused the destruction of the Terra, and my transferal into my current form, was a singular event I have come to call the Reckoning.
It was the 4528th day of our journey (We did not use earth calendar days for the ship, as there are no seasons in outer space) and I, a middle aged laborer, had sat down for my time slot allotted to rest. I had barely begun to drift off after having been the butt of a rather poor joke involving waste chute remnants and books when a shrieking alarm ran through the bunk hall. Half the workers stayed in their beds, slept through the whole thing. It was probably the best outcome from their perspectives. It took me decades to gain enough insight to realize what fully happened, but I eventually understood. Our ship had been hit by another entity, something that dwarfed even our own vessel. It must have been the size of a microplanet, but how a microplanet sized ship could appear out of nothingness still boggles my mind.
By my estimates, over six million people died from the first impact. I am unsure on the casualties of the other vessel-which I have taken to calling Pangaea-as there were no bodies, only tubes, valves, and oil. Perhaps we had killed a mechanical god, or perhaps an entire civilization that had moved into their virtual world. It does not matter, as by this time they would have perished without outside help. The remaining population of the Terra’s crew succumbed mostly to asphyxiation, as a good third of the ship was open to space and its horrors. I and a small group traversed the area we were stationed in, which we quickly realized was the research laboratory.
Our group leader was a former convict by the name of Jared; his last name was stripped due to his crimes. I believe it was murder or serial rape; those are usually the crimes necessary to have your identity torn from you. The man was brilliant, intuitive thinking, and of sound judgment. He was what got us into the relative safety of the inner labs, not a moment too soon either. Hours after we got settled, a fierce tearing and grinding was heard from outside the walls, and I eventually came to realize that the lab was built with the intent of detaching it from the main vessel.
Even had we possessed the foresight to try and grab food from other parts of the remnants of Terra, there was likely nothing left to eat. Being too self-conscious to consider cannibalism, we, after a week of deliberation and reflection, elected to kill ourselves. Not by a simple weapon or opening of the airlock, no, by allowing our bodies to perish. It was at the time an experimental feature, implanted into all humans at birth for future technologies, but the possibility of having happiness until the power ran out was far more appealing than starvation, even with the innate possibility of simply eliminating our minds entirely. The machine had never actually been tested before.
Jared, genius that he was, was able to hack the implants within our bodies to avoid any nasty pseudo surgery to access the hardware directly. All at once, our minds began to transfer
into the machine. It took me a year to realize what happened. We had put twenty one individual minds into the same upload slot. Even with all my time in existence, I have never had an experience such as being a true part of all those different perspectives, all those memories. By some luck or gift of providence, I was the selected consciousness to receive the information and remain intact. Perhaps it was due to my average personality, allowing me to be the most ‘acceptable’ candidate? Or maybe Lady Luck gave me a smile that which has not been seen since the time of the ancient Sumerian’s zenith.
I went from a man of average intelligence to a demigod. I had experienced whole lives in an instant, so what else did I have to accomplish but solving the mystery of the universe, the singular question that answers all questions? Over time, while performing calculations, experiments, creating virtual civilizations, perfect replicas of my own to lord over as a deity may do this plane, I crafted a body to use. Part organic, part machine, in honor of my origins as a new creature I gave myself no face, and tubes of fluid, red as the blood that was shed in the indirect creation of me. A body between male and female, able to move on its own but tethered to the very computer that birthed my essence. That is my avatar.
There is no possible way to explain or even relate what I have done with my time. I have found the answers, all of them and none of them. I have become the entire of Terra and Pangaea, merged into one glorious form. I have witnessed the birth and death of stars, warps in the very fabric of creation, whatever is imaginable has been seen by my unseeing eyes. Now, there is nothing left. I have beaten the game, won the fight, lived the life, all of it, I have accomplished. This is my record, the record of Jared, of Mary, of Kallou, of all who were the collective catalyst of my ascension. I shall keep my name from the records, as I have no name. I am the faceless, omniscient lord who has chronicled all that has been, and all that will ever be. Without eyes, I have seen infinite beginnings and finite ends. Without ears, I have heard cries of anguish from sole survivors, and roars of victory from the solitary victors.
It’s been a long time. I think I will take my rest now. I do not believe I can truly die, so I shall instead sleep until some intrepid stellar wanderer discovers me. Will I be vengeful then? Merciful? Will I save their civilization, or become the harbinger of its annihilation? It all depends on who is watching.
