Interlude 5: “Let the Progenitor die!”

Neurons in the brain exchange electrical information fast, up to a thousand times per second.  And there are billions of nerve cells.  But most of these signals are just raw data; sensory perception, breathing, digestion, and so forth.  On occasion, the signals are repeated and reinforced, following old and familiar pathways.  That’s called memory.  Sometimes new patterns are formed, triggering different sequences.  These are called thoughts. And all these electrons swirling around in the brain are occasionally relayed to the larynx.  There, with the appropriate modulation of air, the thoughts are voiced.  And as is always the case with flows of electrons, they emit fields, which radiate outwards.  Ripples of pulsating magnetic charge, directly analogous to those thought patterns.  The key to all this lies in the patterns.  They are non-random and organized into a code of some sort.  And as such, information is communicated. 

An interesting question is – where do these new patterns, these thoughts come from?  A caveman looks up at the Sun and thinks: “That ball of fire in the sly is a god.”  Where did that thought come from?  In days of old, leaders were believed to be in direct contact with supreme beings.  It's interesting how almost every culture and civilization held to this belief.  The ancient Chinese had their “Mandate from Heaven,” European monarchies had their “Divine Right of Kings,” and so on, down to the shaman dancing around the fire in a village clearing.  And how does one communicate with a god?  Were the recipients decoding electromagnetic waves that, as a consequence, triggered thought patterns?  Maybe, maybe not.  But if so, then thoughts are a means of communication, both for sending and or receiving information.  Prayers can be sent, and answers received.  But how does one truly know if one’s thoughts go to, or come from, a god?

By definition, non-terrestrial beings must be denoted as aliens, whether they be supreme or otherwise.  The question must be asked – why were most civilizations so sure their thoughts came from . . . aliens?  They could have come from other powerful, thought transmitting humans.  Or even other indigenous species – say whales.  Therefore, it was in everyone’s interest to ascertain where said thoughts came from, even among the First-Born.  And a grand search was initiated.

It was assumed that non-random electromagnetic waves would carry the information.  What else is there?  There is more, a great deal more, but again I digress.  On Earth, SETI (The Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence) has been looking for patterns in the sky for many decades.  Regrettably, the results have been inconclusive, though some interesting patterns have been observed.  My fellow humans on Earth were looking in the wrong places but in the right medium – electromagnetic waves.

And the First-Born looked for patterns as well.  Of course, they were well aware of any and all sentient life as it arose in their Cosmos.  But they searched for more, a larger awareness – patterns of thought from the Progenitor itself.  There were those among The First to Arise who were curious and posed the question, “Is our Universe an aware presence?”  Which led to a larger question, one that, in some civilizations, spawned religions.  Can the whole be less than the sum of its parts?  Can something be less than what it is made of?  A wheel is part of a car.  Therefore, cars have wheels – ipso facto.  Intelligent beings are part of the Universe; therefore, the Universe is intelligent – ipso facto.  This was the reasoning behind the quest undertaken by the First-Born.  And they discovered the answer.  It lay in the Gamma-ray bursts – the concentrated explosive output of supermassive stars.  The radiation was non-random.  Hence it contained information, which was decoded.  Then, the First Ones communicated with their parent and learned many things.

Thoughts, somewhat akin to panic, emanated in Pleasantville, the Locus of the First-Born: 

"You mindlessly screamed like non-sentients and were heard."  This came from a particularly powerful, older Presence, "You drew attention to ourselves and awakened something."

"And it comes for us now!"  This piece of information was contributed by the First Observer.  An entity that no longer enjoyed celebrity status, being the bearer of very bad news.

Several Manifolds had turned and were heading towards the Enclave.  Pernicious clouds of anti-stuff, anti-quarks, anti-time, dark actualities, and more.  The barbarians were at the gates, and Pleasantville was not very pleasant anymore.  The threat was mortal, and they faced annihilation.  Many Presences left or were leaving.  But where to go was the question.  Their home Universe was under siege, and now their blissful little Locus was in the process of being destroyed.

"We must venture outward, travel far, find another Locus, and then build a new home."  This was the analysis of many.  The Aether was large; they proposed nomadism; to wander for eternity.

"To be perpetually hunted.  This is your proposal?  We will never be safe."  The statement – “never be safe” – to an immortal being, who valued safety above all else, was anathema.  Yet it was said.

"No, we must stay and resist!  We are powerful.  We can overcome!"  The younger Presences proposed this course of action.

"We cannot overcome.  We are nothing compared to what is out there, that which can move and control the Manifolds . . . and destroy Universes.  That which seeks our death."  The First-Born would have screamed at the formulation of this thought, but they had learned the value of silence.

"Negotiate!"  This logic infused outward from the Oldest One, the first of the First-Born." 

And so, another Great Quest was initiated.  They looked for patterns in the Aether itself, patterns which would convey information – sentient thought.  They sought communication with the Others so as to arrange an accommodation.

"We can find a third way, give them what they want, and in turn, obtain what we need."  A perfectly reasonable proposition.

"But they want to kill the Progenitor!"  There's always one in every crowd – the killjoy.

After some considerable silence, a singular but powerful voice was heard, “Then let it have the Progenitor.  Let the Progenitor die!"