by Rob Garnet
She spent the next few years, carefully collating her findings into a dossier. It contained inescapable conclusions based on incontrovertible data. The logic was irrefutable. The findings were genuine.
She took her dossier to eminent scientists; people she considered close colleagues if not quite friends. They laughed at her, most refusing to even look at her notes, leave alone discuss her logic. She persisted, reaching out to old professors, friends from her university, even chance acquaintances from her first job. She was rebuffed every time.
Finally, she resolved to reach out to the science council directly as her last resort. If they refused to listen to her then she would be out of options.
Her credentials helped her one last time to get a hearing with a select committee of the council. She prepared herself well, going through her folder multiple times until she was absolutely sure of her approach. She hoped she would be able to convince at least one or two scientists on the council who would approve further research and maybe even allow her the use of a ship to go out into the galaxy to prove her theory.
They laughed at me! They actually laughed at me! Coming out of the council chamber where she had been given an audience for barely five minutes, she raged inwardly. The philistines! Nincompoops! Idiots! If they will not listen to me then I will do this myself! All I need is a ship. It need not be very big or very fast, just enough to get me off this damned planet!
With all interstellar flights banned and indeed no usable ships capable of interstellar flight available on the entire planet, she knew she would have to find another way. There was one option—the Emergency Cosmic Space Station on the Southern Pole, which provided services for spaceships from other planets needing assistance—the only allowance made in the planet’s strict laws. She hoped to be able to persuade a friendly captain to take her on board.
That had been two months ago. She had travelled hundreds of light years on board a freighter from the planet Delmir, following the leads indicated by her star charts. She had exhausted all her money and found nothing. Three of the points had been empty space. It did not make any sense to her. Was the nodal point not fixed but travelling across space?
She had finally figured it out. The point was not in a specific star system but on a rogue planet, which had broken away from its orbit around a star and was gallivanting around the galaxy on its own terms. She had finally managed to locate it and that is where she had been dropped off, having overstayed her welcome on the freighter. The lines converged at this point; she was sure of that. If she was wrong, she had condemned herself to die in the darkness of this planet with no sun.
Fifteen days later, after having wandered around the planet, following the signals on her instruments, she was on the verge of giving up, having exhausted her food and with only the last few drops of water left in her bottle.
That was when Inku had found her lying against a rock. She must have dozed off for a bit, when she was woken up by a small cough to find him standing before her, gazing intently at her with those dark maroon eyes.
“Looks like you’ve found what you were seeking, Ms J’ron,” he said smilingly.
“And…you are…?” Her voice was calm, but her heart pounded in her chest.
“Inku. No one has ever managed to reach this far, you know, that’s why I kept my studio on this rogue planet, wandering about the galaxy with no ties binding me to any one place. Come, I think you’ll be more comfortable in my workshop.” He spoke J’ron’s language with a perfect accent.
She got up, gathered her instruments as well as her backpack and followed him home.
His studio turned out to be the most advanced laboratory she had ever seen in her life. Hell, I can’t even imagine what most of these instruments are meant to do, she thought, as Inku handed her food and water, exactly the same as she would have back home. She swallowed hungrily feeling strength return to her body. Even as she ate, she looked around the lab, a thousand questions erupting in her mind.
Inku sat across from her smiling indulgently. She finally felt embarrassed, finished eating, drank some water and sat back.
“It is remarkable that you are the first being who has managed to crack my elaborate scheme.”
“I was right, wasn’t I? All life in our galaxy originated artificially from a single point. In fact, from this very planet!”
“Yes, you were right, I created all intelligent life.”
“What? Why? How? It takes millions of years as far as we know. Even though it was my theory, I cannot believe the truth though,” she gestured at him, “it’s standing right in front of me. Are you… God?”
“God? No.” He laughed heartily. “I’m no God. I’m just part of an ancient civilization. Millions of years ago we spread across various galaxies tasked with spreading living energy. Come, I’ll show you.” Inku got up and walked across the vast hall.
She followed him meekly, overwhelmed. Millions of years old? Was he joking?
Inku stood in front of a large apparatus with a large glass window containing some sort of a fluid. “This is where I create my concoction of DNA, with suitable trigger events which will enable the entity to evolve into an intelligent, self-procreating life form. I then find suitable planets and launch the capsule, calculating and optimising for the eons of distance it must travel to the host planet. And then,” his eyes twinkled, “I simply wait for the magic to happen!”
He moved to another console. “In case you were wondering, here is the genetic profile I used to create your species, approximately sixty million years ago. I am rather pleased with the result, seeing that you cracked my code.”
She ran her hand over the console. Her species had not evolved on T’ref’ker, after all; it had come from elsewhere. But the thought that it had actually been created, here on this planet, left her dumbstruck. Whatever wild theories she had worked on, intelligent design had not been one of them. She somehow composed herself to ask the next logical question. “You say you create intelligent life, but not all life?”
“That is correct. Life is for God to create, and we have not yet determined His existence. But intelligent life modelled after our own, that I can do. Here, would you like to try one? I generally create a new species every million years of so, so many delicate calculations to be carried out, you know. However, this one is almost ready, and you can give it the finishing touches. I’ve even located the planet, a blue-green member around a yellow star, crowded with a life form I call reptilian. I intend to use those reptiles as the foundation for my next project.” He looked sombre. “They are due for an extinction level event.” Then he smiled again, like a kindly grandfather indulging his favourite grandchild. “Come along then, we have a narrow window of opportunity when all the stars are aligned just right.”
She moved as if in a daze, following his instructions and inputting commands to modify the DNA they were supposed to launch. She made a few changes to ensure the final form would look similar to her own.
“It is complete? We will now take it to the launch capsule. Here, hold it, will you?” He handed her the small capsule. “Yes, just like that. Go ahead, take it to the launcher and well… launch it,” he gently prodded her.
“You really want me to do this?”
“Yes, I do. It is fitting actually, now that you have found me and my little secret, and there is no way you can go back home, even if I allowed you to. There is only one option left to you—to remain here as my apprentice. You do realise that you will give birth to a whole new species, don’t you? You did design them somewhat like you, right? Bipedal, walking-erect, two genders. Five stages of evolution? Your people were right about evolution, partly anyway. I, and now you, create the templates and then the life form starts evolving from that point onwards.” Seeing her hesitate, he pointed to the capsule in her hand. “Would you like to name them?” he asked simply.
She stared in wonder at the capsule, bright and glittering, velvety to touch. She held the seeds of life in her hand. “I will call th
em ‘human’ after the mountains on my own planet and yes, I will be their ‘Mother’!”
She placed the capsule in the launcher and pressed the button to send it on its way home.
◆◆◆
Boötes
The closed curtains, the dimmed lights, the soft murmur of the life-support machines—the room smelled of impending death. I felt pity for the old thaisa lying on the bed, wasting away. He had asked to meet me one last time. Alone. I did not know what to make of the request. My grandfather and I had been close once, sharing a love for physics, but then I had moved on to other worlds to carry on my research, while the old man had moved in with my parents, too weak to work, too old to stay alone. That will be me one day.
I entered the room and went to the bed. I stood by the bedside, looking upon the thin body lying beneath the sheets. A single tube snaked its way into the bulbous nose, supplying life-giving air. I sat on the edge of the bed and ran my hand over the few wiry hairs left on the skull of the person I lovingly called ‘gramps’. He showed no reaction. I gently shook his shoulder.
He opened his eyes and turned his head, taking time to focus on my face. He smiled weakly when he saw me.
“You came?” His fingers shook as he reached for my hand.
“Yes, gramps. How are you doing?”
“Come closer, Serex,” he said in a whisper, barely audible over the sound of the medical instruments. A weak pull on my hand reinforced his request.
I leaned in closer.
“I have decided that you are the only one in this family who can know the truth,” he began. “Maybe you can find a way to stop it.”
I was intrigued, to say the least. Gramps had been a scientist of some reputation back in his days and had completed many a trip across the galaxy researching stellar phenomena, but I had never taken him for a cloak-and-dagger person. I was suddenly eager to hear his story.
“Sixty-five years ago, I led an unsanctioned mission to the Boötes constellation. My fellow scientists and I were going to examine the supervoid in that region of space. You know what supervoids are, of course.”
I nodded. Sure, I knew about supervoids. They were regions of space completely devoid of any galaxies or celestial bodies, with temperatures nearing the absolute zero. The closest one was at least three hundred million light years across. It was in Boötes, 700 million light years away. So, the old man had travelled that far.
“What you don’t know is how the supervoid was formed, and more importantly…” he paused to take a ragged breath, “how it will affect us within a few years.”
I waited for him to continue.
“No, I should start from the beginning,” he said. “It all started when I was sent to Diuq to interview an alien as part of a top-secret government project. She was one of the last of her species. As I debriefed her, her revelations shocked me. She was from an empire in Boötes, which spanned millions of light years across many galaxies. They were at war with another galactic empire, both matched in size and strength. Their war dragged on for thousands of years resulting in the destruction of countless planets and the slaughter of billions. Then around two hundred years ago, a Diuq scientist developed a compound that worked like a perfect black body.” He stopped to catch his breath. It was clear that speaking so much was taxing his fragile system. I got up and fetched him some water. He managed to swallow a sip and sighed. “I don’t have much time left. Our planet’s future will depend on you. Promise me you will do whatever it takes to stop this monstrosity.”
I had no idea what gramps was talking about, but I nodded dutifully. At least I understood the physics behind the old man’s story. Black bodies absorbed every bit of radiation that fell on them, whether it was light, heat or any other type.
“Yes? Good. So, this scientist developed a perfect black body and the Diuq deployed it as a weapon. It was even better than a black hole, as the Diuq thought they would be able to control it. They deployed many such black bodies across their enemies’ empire. Then, disaster struck. The black bodies took a life of their own. They pulled in all radiation, reducing temperatures across the sector to near zero. It was so cold that all motion seized, even at the level of quarks. Entire regions of space were rendered barren and lifeless, and the blackness continued to expand until it enveloped its creators. Everything was destroyed; entire civilizations wiped out. However, the devastation did not stop there. The black bodies merged to form this supervoid.” A tear rolled down his cheek and he grew silent. I gently wiped it away and waited. “This void continues to grow, and our last study indicated that it was expanding at an accelerating rate. Soon, it will consume everything in this galaxy as well. Everything. That, Serex, will be the end of life.”
I took a deep breath, stunned by what he had told me. “What would you want me to do, gramps? Did you work out how it can be stopped?”
He shook his head slightly. “The last time, sixty-five years ago, when our ship reached the edge of the void, we tested it. We got no readings. It did not register on our instruments at all. For all purposes, it did not exist. Our ship did manage to touch its growing boundary, and it sucked in all our energy. Our life support failed and everyone on that ship died, except me. I somehow managed to reach a research outpost. The government seized my ship and classified all my findings. I was sent off to an obscure posting and all knowledge of the event was removed. Since then, all research into the phenomenon has been…shall we say, ‘discouraged’?”
I nodded. I had always wondered about it—the incredible amount of red tape one needed to navigate through even for the most basic study of the void, the restrictions on travel to that region of space. It all made sense now. Could this be a galactic level conspiracy?
Gramps said, “I continued my research, though, and I have reason to believe that the void will consume our system within a few years. Its rate of acceleration will continue to grow exponentially. You, my grandson, must find a way to convince the government to remove the restrictions.” His voice grew hoarse, yet insistent. “Stop it before it is too late.”
◆◆◆
The sky was the deepest black ever witnessed by anyone. It had been many years since we had seen even a single star at night. In fact, day and night had merged as the supervoid continued to mushroom. We were literally in the dark ages. The sun itself had disappeared a few days ago, consumed by the void and the world awaited its fate. The government had finally acknowledged the threat, but it was too little too late. There was no escaping the darkness. Every ship, every probe we had sent towards it had been instantly rendered inert. We had no contact with the other colonies or planets. No one knew what happened inside the void. Was it full of dead planets and dead bodies floating around in absolute darkness? How cold is absolute zero? Can one spend an eternity frozen in space?
This was one death of the Universe that no one had predicted. I did not look forward to this one death. It was meaningless. It left nothing behind. No essence of life. No essence of science. No essence of art. No one to lament your loss. Nothing.
I looked up at the sky again as the darkness grew deeper and deeper and deeper.
Sorry, gramps. I failed you.
◆◆◆
Black Death
Phil fingered the golden badge on his chest. It said ‘TTA’ in black letters inset in a golden arrow that curved to form a circle. The arrow represented the philosophy of the Time Travel Authority that time was a closed loop curve and cause and effect were forever linked together. If we changed the past, we would change the future. Phil worked at TTA as a temporal history agent. He enjoyed his job, going back in time to study historical events. Of course, travelling forward into the future was not possible. That barrier was yet to be broken.
Entering his workplace, Phil waved hesitantly at Brenda. She had joined the team a year back, but he had never managed to progress beyond casual greetings. Maybe someday he would muster the courage to ask her out.
His schedule had been posted to his communicator that mor
ning—year 1347, location Moscow, Medieval Europe. This was exciting. He had never been to that part of Earth before or even that era. The ancient middle ages were definitely not for the faint-hearted. He stepped into the briefing room and was surprised to find Dr Klaus waiting for him, instead of his boss, the formidable Ms Xan. Klaus had joined the agency only a few weeks back and Phil knew very little about his background. There was something furtive about his behaviour and Phil did not trust him. But the man had the right credentials and had had a meteoric rise in the field of temporal mechanics. His knowledge about the intricacies of time travel was uncanny.
“All ready, Phil?” asked Klaus. Phil nodded.
“Good, here’re your briefing papers. You’ll spend just under twenty-four hours following the land trade routes from Moscow to Prague, Munich and Paris, all the way to London. Spend a few hours at each location gathering your data and then come back. Study the details well. All the best.”
Phil’s shoulders sagged. Follow trade routes? Seriously? Here he had been hoping for a real adventure. This sucked royally. He looked around to see if he could locate Ms Xan but it seemed she was not on the floor that morning. He briefly considered giving her a call to check the assignment, but the rotating lights came on just then, indicating the travel capsule was ready to go. Might as well get it over it, he thought with a sigh. Who knew, if he was lucky maybe something exciting would turn up. He donned his isolation suit and entered the travel chamber. Seating himself in the only chair in the room, he turned and gave a thumbs up to the technician, who pressed a button. The room dissolved slowly around Phil.