Interlude 8: Continuance

So, the First-Born abandoned the Locus, their enclave.  Where did they go?  Answer: they dispersed everywhere.  Some found other pleasant places in the Aether and made their homes there – agglomerating Space and Time and adding a measure of Matter.  But they remained at risk, and risk is something an immortal abhors.  Others went back home, back to their Progenitor, the place of their origin. Many chose to make their domiciles close to the outer husk, to ease their comings and goings, and to keep watch.  To stand ready and vigilant against further attacks and to direct the repair fleets.  Defenses were constructed, but against an unknown enemy, of unknown abilities.  Well, their effectiveness was in doubt. 

And many others choose to emigrate.  To make their homes in other Universes, though they were different, each with their own set of parameters.  It takes 26 different physical constants to make a Universe: such things as Newton’s gravitational constant – g, a number that determines the force of gravity in relation to mass; or Plank’s Constant – h, which relates a photon’s energy to its frequency.  Plus 24 more.  But the First-Born were adaptable, as evidenced by their longevity.  They flourished in their new homes, reveling in their new lives.  And they kept in touch, for they all shared a common heritage and a common problem – the “Others.”  The entity or entities that lurks in the Aether and chooses to occasionally attack sundry Universes and sundry interlopers, like themselves.

The First-Born were also united by the quest to define the Aether.  To keep asking and answering questions until they acquired enough knowledge to live securely again, anywhere.  The search was engaged, from many different approaches, from the very broad to the very specific.  And their knowledge base increased exponentially.  But the big question remained – Who are the Others?  And how did they manage to direct and control the Manifolds?

In what could be considered a long time ago, it was determined that the Progenitor was sentient and aware.  Able to sense stimuli and respond to it.   A new question was posed: To what degree was the Cosmos cognizant?  Was it like a dog barking to go outside?  Or like Einstein musing on the speed of light?  In time they learned that the voicings of their Progenitor consisted of much more than simple cries of anguish, as heard in the gamma-ray bursts.  Patterns were discerned in many other places as well.  The web of Space-Time vibrated, and those patterns could be interpreted.  The flows and currents of Time varied in a discernable manner.  And fluctuations were detected in the background hum of the Universe itself.  Some claim this residue to be leftover radiation from the Big Bang itself, but it proved to be more.  It was the song of the Progenitor.  Its thoughts, and its feelings, made available to all who would listen.  And these refrains expressed the joys it felt to be, and also, the anguish of its being.

In all civilizations, there is an intrinsic need to seek explanations.  Explanations of that vast jumble of sensory data that endlessly flood the collective consciousness.  To make sense of what’s out there, all those very big unknowns.  And the problem with unknowns is – anxiety.  Unknowns always cause anxiety, an uneasy feeling because, whatever it is, it could be bad.  Hence – religions were created.  They explain the unknowns, relieve the anxieties, and serve as the common denominators of all cultures.  And a Creator was usually created to explain all the unknowns.  The First-Born were not immune to these compulsions, and many sought answers in, and even from the Progenitor.  And early on, many worshiped the Great Macrocosm.  They received its blessings and sung its songs.  But they wanted more than to hear; they wanted to be heard.  They wanted their prayers to be answered.

And why not.  The codes were deciphered, the languages of the Universe.  And they could experience, to some extent, its state of mind, its qualia.  Thus, a vast array of beacons were constructed, and communion with their Maker was attempted.  At first, there was no answer, for they were not loud enough.  So, they built more beacons, applied more power, and their Presence was finally acknowledged.  The Progenitor responded, and dialogue was established.  What would a god say to his communicants?  Be good, and you’ll go to heaven?  No.  Its responses were almost unintelligible, as one would expect:

“My Space glows with the flows of Time.”

“Glistening with gladness, pulsations of apprehension.”

“What am I?  Who am I?  Where am I?

“Perplexity.  Existence.  My magnitude exalts.

“Rejoice do I in self-knowledge, I sing songs.”

“Pain, great pain.  My Presence diminishes.”

Great secrets were not unlocked.  The context had to be deciphered the old-fashioned way, using the methodologies of science, logic, and reason.  And, of course, it was.  And the meditations of the Universe were enough.  They satisfied the hunger for religion and provided answers to the unknowns.  All were contented, for a time, until the First-Born went beyond.

“We can abide.”  This statement was transmitted by many disparate groups, and it echoed among their new enclaves.  Some messages even contained joy.  The joy of abiding in different places of existence.  But eternal felicity was not to be.  This fact went unstated.  There was no need for its reiteration.  Lamentations were felt by all.  The sorrow of being apart and unattached.

“We shall overcome and bask again in the love of our combined Presence – in Time.”  This thought emanated from the oldest and most expansive Awareness.  It was a message of hope.