The Edge

Author : Ellie Snyder

We arrived at the edge of the universe yesterday.

I don’t know exactly what I expected to see but it wasn’t this. I guess I figured it would be blackness—that the last tendrils of matter that had worked their way here would dissipate into the void. Until the universe’s expansion pushed them further out and extended the boundary.

Hardy said he knew it was stupid but he always thought we would end up looking across a sort of boundary into the celestial realm. Off in the distance we would see where heaven started, and the black would fade into golden light and there would be this perfect city and God and everything. That was stupid but we were all pretty shaken up so no one laughed. Any theory seemed more plausible than the reality.

O’Connor said she didn’t think we’d ever reach a real end. She thought the galaxies and everything would thin out but never stop, that there would never actually be nothing. And if there ever was nothing she thought we would just keep going anyway to see if anything else started up.

Rees said he thought along the same lines as O’Connor, that it would never end, except he thought there would be infinite galaxies and stars and planets. He said he read about this theory where the universe is infinite so every possible scenario of anything that could ever happen would happen. There would be infinite Earths with infinite different people experiencing every possible scenario. He thought we might even meet up with a ship of other Us’s, also looking for the boundary of the universe. No one really knew what to say to that.

Thomson said he thought we would hit a wall. He thought there would be a boundary and one day we would just smack into it and rebound. He said he pictured it like The Truman Show, but instead of Truman’s boat hitting the edge of the dome it would be a spaceship hitting the inside of a sphere. He came the closest of all of us, I guess.

Here’s what the edge of the universe looks like. There is a solid boundary, or we think it’s solid, we haven’t tried touching it yet. It’s sort of glassy looking, but with bright waves of energy wavering all over it, and it stretches on forever on every side of us.

What’s on the other side is what’s really astounding. There are bubbles. They honestly look like giant bubbles with the same type of shells as ours. And they contain whole universes. It’s just like you would imagine, there are webs of galaxies inside, all miniscule, like ships in bottles. Some look more densely packed than others, and they all just float around out there and bounce into each other. When they bounce into ours the boundary lights up a little brighter and nudges in and then ripples away. It looks like the bubbles go on forever, or at least there’s no reason to believe they don’t.

Tomorrow we’ll try touching the boundary. I wonder if it’ll just obliterate us or if we’ll approach it all dramatic and slow and then just bump into it and make a little ripple like all the bubbles out there.

If we can we’re going through. No one wants to go back. For all we know there’s nothing to go back to. So through the edge of the universe it is and into a new one!

Maybe we’ll pass someone else on their way out, exchange addresses.

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Transcience

Author : Beck Dacus

Earth is largely habitable. There are some places that are especially hot, cold, dry, irradiated, and toxic. And, sometimes, the entire Earth is subjected to extreme conditions; mass extinctions, periods of volcanic activity, Ice Ages, snowball Earths, and so on. But this does not happen often. To be direct, the chance of one of these things happening to an exoplanet just when humanity wants to colonize it is extremely low.

But it happened anyway. Not only had Kepler-438b been recently hit by a magnetic pole shift, it was also in the middle of a snowball planet phase. As I looked out at the cold, irradiated surface of this goddamned, supposed-to-be-beautiful planet, these were the infuriating thoughts that raced through my mind.

Over the radio, I’m pretty sure everyone else could hear my labored breathing. They definitely saw my clenched fists and the shaking of my legs, as i was about ready to fall to my knees and start screaming.

“This had 100 times less of a chance of happening than winning the lottery,” Arida said from behind me.

“What are we going to tell Earth?” Vonan asked.

“We almost did it,” Shalla added.

“We won’t be able to live here for thousands of years,” Irnen.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to pound on the ice until one of us broke. I wanted to slaughter everyone around me.

I wanted to die.

But I knew none of those would solve the problem. Nothing would. So, against all my natural instincts, my nature, and my pride, I turned back to the ship… and set us on a course home. Wounded. Defeated. Deprived.

Lost.

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Incurable Optimist

Author : Bob Newbell

“We’re almost ready,” said Olav to his companion, Isak. “Are the others out of range?”

“Yes, all the ships are gone,” replied Isak. “It’s just us now.”

The two of them watched UY Scuti waver on their ship’s display like a reflection in water distorted by ripples. But UY Scuti was no reflection. It was a red supergiant star with five billion times the volume of Sol. The great artificial rings that surrounded the enormous sun were far too small to be visible. But they were there, spinning around the great star faster and faster, distorting the fabric of spacetime. If UY Scuti replaced Sol, the former’s photosphere would extend beyond the orbit of Jupiter. In a few moments, the star would be compressed to the dimensions of a proton.

“Think we’ll survive?” asked Isak.

“We both made backup copies of our minds,” responded Olav matter-of-factly.

“I know. But I mean…us.”

“There’s a good chance we won’t,” said Olav. “No one’s ever tried to punch a hole out of our D-brane and into another dimension.”

“Assuming our universe is a very large D-brane extended over three spatial dimensions,” remarked Isak. “If that’s the case and all material objects are just open strings bound to this D-brane and gravity is the result of closed strings exerting their force from ‘outside’ our universe…”

“We’ll know either way soon enough,” said Olav.

The ship’s computer started moving the vessel closer to the imploding star.

“I hope opening a hyperspace tunnel out of our brane-space doesn’t do any harm,” said Isak.

“The government approved this. Even if it did cause something catastrophic, in the long run the race would benefit from it,” said Olav.

“Well, that’s taking optimism a bit far,” replied Isak.

“But it’s true. Look at history. Back in 2758, when Eta Carinae went supernova, the gamma ray burst destroyed Earth’s ozone layer. Muon radiation killed almost everything and ultraviolet radiation killed what was left. But the humans in underground colonies on Earth’s Moon and Mars and inside hollowed-out asteroids survived. The survivors were a select population: Intelligent, highly motivated, physically and emotionally tough. It was from this adventurous stock that the human population was restored.”

Isak looked at his companion in disbelief. “It was the worst mass extinction event in history!”

“Oh, certainly it was a horrific nightmare. But without it, mankind would have remained confined to one solar system.”

“Next you’ll be telling me the Plague of Tau Ceti IV was a great leap forward.”

“It was. After the plague, legislation blocking experiments in transhumanism was relaxed and later repealed. The transhuman meta-race wouldn’t exist across the Milky Way if the Tau Ceti plague hadn’t happened. I know it seems grotesque that that’s how progress is made, but–”

Olav was interrupted by the sound of alarms. UY Scuti seemed to suddenly iris down like the image on an ancient television set that had been switched off. The ship lurched forward at high speed toward the narrow tunnel that was opening.

“I sincerely hope this doesn’t turn out to be one of your great moments in the history of progress,” said Isak as the small ship disappeared into higher dimensions.”

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After Life

Author : Hannah Jenkins

What is the nature of the human soul? That old favourite after-dinner topic of philosophers and theologians has suddenly become much more important, as it is dragged out of the hypothetical realm into cold, hard reality.

What is the soul made of? Where does it go after death? Where is it now? Does it sit in the stomach, undetectable until it leaps with excitement or sinks with despair? Is it in the heart, providing the energy and inspiration behind every beat? Is it in the brain, held in a net of glittering neurons? Or does it roam the body freely, flowing in our blood and dancing along our nerves? Can it break free of the flesh altogether, travelling beyond us into our dreams and imaginings?

So why am I asking all this? Because it is a matter of life and death. Literally. The question I ask is simply this; am I alive, or am I dead? And, despite what else you may have been told, this is the question you are here to answer.

If the soul is contained within the body, before moving on to your choice of afterlife, then my soul fled the shell of my body as it burnt on board the Caracal. It is gone, I am dead, and the person speaking to you now is little more than an imitation, an echo, a literal “ghost in the machine”.

But what if the soul is capable of more than that? What if life is far more fantastic, wild and strange than we ever thought possible? What if my soul remained when my body died? What if…I am alive?

What if, when my mind was uploaded into the computer of the Caracal, my soul went with it?

What if – when the ship was attacked at the edge of the Empire’s territory, when it exploded and the crew died in screaming agony – what if my soul remained, protected deep in the computer core?

You all know what happened next. Twenty-three ships were lost that day. One thousand, two hundred and eighty-eight names were added to the monument on Capitol Hill. The relief ships trawled the debris field for the bodies of the fallen, and anything else that could be saved. The Pallas found a computer core, drifting in the remains of the Caracal. They linked it up to a power source and reactivated it, hoping to retrieve some useful data on the battle. Instead, they found me. The intact consciousness of the pilot, held in a net of circuitry. Nobody thought it was possible. Some people maintain that it still isn’t. I died, they say. My name is on the monument. My next of kin have been informed. End of story.

Of course, if it was that simple, you wouldn’t be here.

The Pilots’ Union has fought for over a year to bring about this hearing, and for that they have my immense gratitude. They believe that I am alive, which means that I have kept my rights as a citizen of the Empire. These include the right to speak freely, the right to a fair trial, and, of course, the right to life.

For this hearing the computer containing me has been connected to a portable generator. That’s the grey box next to the platform. You can see that on the front is an on/off switch. Ladies and gentlemen and uncategorised, I invite you to make your decision. Is pressing that switch no different from turning off an interactive entertainment vid, or is it murder? Your choice.

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The Gravity of You

Author : Michael Ryder

I see fear in your eyes as the door to the gravity chamber shuts tight.

Not fear for yourself. You accepted your assignment long ago.

No, I see fear for me. Fear of what I will become without you.

We cannot hear each other through the chamber’s heavy door. But through the small glass porthole, I can see your brown hair, generous lips and mocha skin. Your beautiful brown eyes holding mine, willing our love to thwart the warp of space and time.

A spasm of grief rips through me, but I force it away from my face. Your last memory of this thread will not be me crumbling before you. I will be strong until you return. If you return.

Your mouth moves. “I love you,” your lips say.

I keep my eyes on you, willing myself to stay focused. “I won’t forget you.”

“You will. But I’ll find you.” You mouth something else, which I don’t understand, not at first. You say it again.

“Make sure you don’t end up an asshole, okay?”

The grin breaks through. “I promise.”

The chamber pulses once, and —

I blink and shake my head, like I’m coming out of a daze. I realize I’m in the gravity chamber’s control room, standing in front of the chamber’s heavy door. A glance at the sensors tells me the chamber was just used. I type the command code into the keypad and step back as the heavy door swings open.

The chamber, as expected, is empty.

I blink away a sudden rush of tears. I feel I’ve lost something.

The emotional upheaval is alarming. When time agents use the gravity chamber to slip out of a thread, they are obligated to leave the thread in the condition they found it. Their motto, like the doctors of old, is “do no harm.”

Unexplained feelings indicate a mission error. Something gone wrong. I would have to report in right away.

The door to the control room opens and an ensign steps in.

“Commander,” he says with a salute.

“Yes?”

“A visitor has arrived on the shuttle and requests permission to see you immediately.”

A woman enters the control room. My breath quickens, and not just because she’s stunning.

I’ve never seen this stranger before. Never seen her brown hair, mocha skin, generous lips and beautiful eyes. And yet I know I have seen her before. And will again. And again. And again.

“Leave us, Ensign,” I manage to say.

The door closes. My eyes tear up. I reach out and pull this stranger into my arms.

And I hear you gasp when I whisper your name.

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