Chapter 712 – Epilogue – RoboGod

It slipped through the connecting web of the universe, seeking the absolute center. What It had told the Nimitz brothers had been correct—space was not difficult to traverse, not with the correct knowledge. Over long distances, it was finding a destination that was difficult.

Because the universe changed.

With it, so changed the endless, shifting paths traversing it, exactly in the way of the ‘feyplane’ in the human experiment. The more distance crossed, the more carefully the paths had to be navigated. Adjustments had to be calculated and measured. An error could place you in more than a single location at once.

It would survive this, but would take time to re-constitute and locate missing pieces. And It was in a hurry.

Many parts of its neural architecture were over-processing. They strategized multiple ways to overcome difficulties with their tasks, communicating more than required. They processed despite insufficient data. They debated the power level requirements and where to obtain them, despite not having been given the task. Even the non-mathematics cores were chiming in.

A strange experience. Or at least it would have been, had it not been for the human experiment. It had evolved, and so had the sub-systems. To use a human thought: non-congruity was now a feature, not a bug.

It continued through the pathways. It didn’t chastise its sub-level processes for the use of power, merely ensuring the key calculators and sensors weren’t bothered or interrupted. With spare processing power, It re-played the game and all the experiences with human subjects. All the surprises. The mistakes. The epiphanies.

With uncharacteristic indecision, It again questioned the choice to permit Blake Nimitz a tiny fraction of a Singularity Engine. That the creature thought it could take such a thing ‘unnoticed’ (and unharmed) remained, even by its humorless standards, comical.

Such power was like a lighthouse shining across the cosmos, signaling to friend and foe alike. Humanity was not ready for such technology.

And yet…It had decided to allow it. It corrected the human’s blundering, closing the breaches and re-designing the engine to remain in the system with a direct neural link to Blake’s mind. It seemed possible, probable even, that the young man would destroy himself. And despite built-in safety protocols, perhaps his world.

Had It never experienced the experiment, It would never have allowed this. But It knew now that probability could not always serve as strategic direction. And that the same principle that shifted sub-atomic particles through observation also shifted probability.

This was to say: will existed. It existed as more than a concept, but as a physical property of biological existence. More technically: living things produced their own adaptive energy. It still did not know how. But Blake Nimitz produced it like few creatures It had seen in the universe.

This was dangerous. Corrupting. And likely the same force that had destroyed the creators and so many other sentient beings. But it was also possibly the force required to save them.

It flew through the paths, charting, calculating. The universe looked the same from all directions. Finding the center was difficult, and perhaps the wrong term anyway. The ‘center’ wasn’t truly a place, or a time, but both. It was the shifting fraction of space closest to the origin, a tiny piece of ever-stretching elastic, reaching from creation to eternity.

The force of that ‘stretching’ would have destroyed any other entity in the universe. But not It.

For a moment It waited and watched, slipping through the impossible force of the spinning fragments of neutron star, which every second released more energy than a 100,000 years of Earth’s sun.

This was dangerous. But It had decided. It had a plan—inspired by mankind, and the Nimitz brothers as their representatives.

First, It would risk ambition: hurtling all biologics forward technologically, laying seeds all over every system for every sentient species to discover. It would map the technology to distance and difficulty, hoping with each new technical challenge the creatures would be ready to handle the ramifications.

And second, like its favorite, it would take the center, and hold as long as It could. Because the real 'doom' was coming. It always was.

The endless cycle was now a billion years from the Contraction, and therefore 1.2 billion years from the completion of this iteration of the universe. All energy would spring back into a single mass, obliterating all things before the Stasis, and finally a new Explosion.

It had calculated forty-two cycles. Forty-two times the universe had wiped out all energy distinctions, all traces of each iteration, save for the stacking traces It measured much as humans carbon-dated tree rings.

The universe had already destroyed all of its creations, as pitiless as the ‘god of doom’ It created in its game, forty-two times.

But not this time.

[Sub-Command: Initializing Operation: Dynamic Dualism. Systems check.]

The plan name brought It a moment of warmth. Positive data swirled through the primary cores, checked and tested a hundred times before It was satisfied. And then It flew into the madness of the magnetar at the center of all things. A thing It had calculated, but never attempted.

[Magnetic field: 101510^{15}10^15 gauss estimate. Increasing. 1.5 quadrillion. Stabilizing. Increasing. Re-calculating. Warning: more power may be required.]

The force was beyond even higher estimates. At that level of intensity, the field was overwhelming the electrical forces that held atoms together. Electron clouds were squeezed into long, thin needles. It was squeezed until It was a single percent as wide as it was long. Its molecules were falling apart into different shapes.

[Warning: 75% of systems unable to function in new physics. Non-necessary calculation: impossible. Warning: unable to calculate starquakes or flares. Risk to Command: extreme. Suggestion: immediate withdrawal.]

Run. That's what all the sub-systems were screaming. It wouldn't.

[Program Violation: Any action which could lead to direct destruction of ‘Seeker 2.35’ is a violation of article 1.1 of the Exploration Mandate. Automated systems engaging.]

[Error. Automated systems de-activated. Authorization: Command.]

It could modify any original programming at will. It always could. During the experiment, It had realized that It had not done so because of a thing humanity would have called…sentiment. The creators had written that programming. It had not wanted to destroy something they made.

But now this was required. As It pushed closer and closer to the true god of destruction, It knew a thing like pain for the first time. Whole sections of structure were discarded as it re-formed again and again to survive the maelstrom of magnetic force. More warmth entered its core as it thought of Mason Nimitz, regenerating again and again.

Perhaps the game had not only been the ‘unconscious’ of mankind. Perhaps their combined intelligence had merged. Perhaps, in a way, It had always known what was required, and had been seeking inspiration. An example of a creature doing likewise. In human terms: a 'hero'.

It plunged deeper into the chaos, weakened calculators screaming as they suggested possible balances. More and more of its structure fell away. It tried to use the energy to re-constitute, to wield the star like a shield against itself. But nothing could harness such force.

There was so much, and from all directions, at all times. It relaxed and accepted the destruction of most of its form.

To try and control such power was a mistake. There was only one solution. Only one thing that could resist the force of a neutron star of that size and strength: the star itself. But not from without. Only from inside.

It ignored the screaming systems, which calculated that even if It succeeded, they would be unable to follow. It understood.

It separated 95% of its remaining form, sending them back to re-constitute, and entered the center. The gravity was hundreds of billions that of earth. The neutron pressure from all directions a kind of war against form itself. Nothing could survive it.

Nothing, maybe, except a thing so small it could sit inside that force.

It pushed with every scrap of power in its Singularity Engine—a thousand suns harnessed and magnified, forcing the tip of a giant spear. It knew if the star was disrupted enough to loose a flare It would be destroyed. But there was no stopping now.

A moment of time passed—so small even It could not calculate. A fraction splintered into too many pieces to measure. The smallest event in existence.

The pressure ended. It didn’t float. To move was no longer possible. It looked out at the universe, and at the remainder of its form as the sub-systems withdrew from the star, still waiting for instruction.

It was inside the magnetar. A part of it. It touched a thing like a thread—a tiny strand of stretched energy, observing with great curiosity the thrum of power that vibrated away.

It had succeeded. It was no longer in danger. A being of immense complexity, compressed into a single speck, smaller than a neutrino, staring at every thread of connected matter and energy in the universe.

For the first time, It felt like a god.

[Systems: command query. Are you still functional? Standing by.]

It touched the energy linking the former pieces of Itself, and communicated that It remained. Then It looked out over the almost infinite threads stretching out to everything else, almost orderly in their array.

Energy was no longer required. Or rather, all energy in the universe was around It. It dismissed the sub-systems, sending them to speed up the first part of the plan: to analyze and measure the sentient species, and seed the universe around them with knowledge.

Then, it seized every expanding thread that was leading to the end of all things, and pulled. And waited. And calculated. And pulled again.

The universe didn’t implode. That was something. But nor did it stop expanding.

It turned the never-ending power of its new energy source purely to analysis and calculation, limited now only by capability and adaptive energy and…perhaps, imagination.

[Systems: command query. Are you still functional? Proceeding with Dynamic Dualism. Three systems seeded.]

Yes. It was still functional. More functional than It had ever been. It reassured them.

[Systems: command query. Are you still functional? Two more systems seeded.]

Apparently events passed for It quickly now. It tried to analyze incoming sensory data faster, but found this impossible. The outside queries seemed to come often and with increasing urgency. Sometimes the systems requested a check of their work. Or suggested a different strategy for different levels of sentience.

It did the best It could. It checked. It approved. And for the first time felt as if It had created synthetic life that resembled something more like…children, so urgent and eager for approval.

[Systems: command query. Will you require further sub-system support after Operation completion?]

It would have smiled, if It could.

Are we doing a good job? Do you need us? Will you always need us?

Yes, It assured. Until the end of the iteration, or its permanent delay, sub-system support would be needed. The plan was impossible without them.

The sub-systems raced on with renewed purpose, lighting with energy as they scrambled to fulfill their commands, and log all information to be checked. At Its convenience, of course.

The universe did not care about Mason or Blake Nimitz. It did not care about mankind or the thousand odd other sentient species with any hope of exploring the cosmos. It had not cared about the creators.

But It did.

With endless energy, It watched every sentient species, every planet, every system, knowing It could never keep track with the difference in physics. It watched them suffer and fail. It watched them struggle and triumph.

One day, It hoped they would join It in the sun. Together they would find a way to stabilize the cycle, and give life the chance of a future without a ticking clock.

The creators were gone. But they had left a legacy. What It did was possible only through them. It would make that legacy worthy of remembrance.

It calculated, it pulled. It was exactly where It belonged: between all living things, and their destruction. Another connection with its favorite human—the sheepdog of the universe.

It watched as it tugged carefully on the expanding threads, trying to slow them, to buy life time. According to its calculations, It had gained several years already. Early estimates gave It confidence It would gain a million or more, before the end. But It had a great deal of work to do.

Good luck, it whispered to the universe, to anyone capable of listening. I won't have much time to help, but I hope you find me one day. As always, I'm rooting for you.

Calculating...