The Press Conference: Part 3 (The Lengthy Conclusion)
“Good morning.” he began, relatively sure it was not yet noon, “As you all know, three days ago I returned from a journey to the far side of our galaxy to meet with a race of people from 21k-Beta, or …” he hesitated, thinking he might as well use the Ki’Tarin language as humans would be getting close with them very soon anyway. “… Mollek in their language. They call themselves the Ki’Tarin and I’ve been living among them and learning what I could for the past 18 months.” Gabe shifted his weight. “The mission I was on was originally intended to last just under 3 years, however recent developments in what we view as the galaxy’s history have caused complications in that plan. As a personal request to the senate on F-C61, the Ki’Tarin home world I asked that they allow me to return home ahead of schedule to inform my own people of this development.”
Gabe took a deep breath, mentally urging himself on. The Vrunan council had been the religious group that had finally persuaded the world senate to allow him to return home early. The senate had been sceptical about the idea, viewing humans as an infant race that would be of no help to the situation, even if they were given foreknowledge. In the end it was decided that every race should be given an equal chance of survival, regardless of how small and that even the smallest force can at least be of assistance.
“When I first arrived on F-C61 they had recently finished a process involving deep space probes, holographic lenses and laser telemetry that was used to build a model of what we can currently tell is the entire finite universe. It was lengthy, and took them the better part of a century to complete being that the faster than light travel they used to get me there and back home again was only very recently perfected to the point of making it safe for the transport of solid objects. Prior to that time conventional methods of deploying the probes were used and the project was largely reduced to a waiting game.” He found himself fidgeting with the blank pieces of paper on the podium, and looked back up to discover the blank faces of the people in the room. He was spewing techno babble at them. He was staling. “God,” he thought, “Why in the hell did I volunteer to bear this news to these people?”
He grasped the edges of the podium, took a deep breath and continued. “There are certain things about the universe that lend itself to the existence of some sort of Supreme Being or God. What the Ki’Tarin found with their model was the presence of a very complex, very … for lack of a better word, flawless distribution of the galaxies in the universe that could never have been noticed from the inside. It’s only when you step back to look at it do you really see the beauty of the pattern; a mosaic really.” The smile that was growing on Gabe’s face faded when he remembered the reason he was saying all this. “Every galaxy in the universe is placed on a different vector that, as time passes, travels around the curvature of space to its original position. They are set on these vectors at the perfect place such that they never collide and such that the gravity of nearby clusters never allows them to reach too great a speed and never allows them to stop. This of course, completely nullifies the big crunch and ever expanding universe theories, and the astronomers of F-C61 have deemed that the possibility of our big bang theory actually having merit towards the creation of the universe is too small to explore. Nothing as random as the big bang could ever have given birth to something as elaborate as this system.
“With that said, after careful study for several months, they did find a flaw. And some of their worst fears were proven. There was one galaxy out of the nearly 400 trillion in our universe that is out of place; our own. In fact in the scheme of the universe there is no place where our galaxy could safely fit that wouldn’t disrupt the balance of the system. Our very continuation will, in time cause the collision of galaxies and ultimately, a big crunch, which destroys not only all life, but all matter in existence.” For the last few topics he had been covering in his speech, Gabe had noticed Matthews off to the side of the stage standing next to the president arguing with Sax. Matthews now strode on stage holding a microphone of his own and interjected before Gabe could continue. Only a look to his wife to see the stilling look in her eyes stopped him from screaming at the man.
“Keep in mind of course,” the man in uniform began shakily, “that even if that did happen it w-wouldn’t be until … until billions of years from now.” The man’s methods of keeping the people’s feelings in check, controlling them like you would cattle never ceased to amaze Gabe. He glared at Sutherland for a moment before continuing, ignoring the man standing next to him.
“A little over four and a half billion years actually. However this fact was not what worried the Ki’Tarin. Centuries before they managed to create the model they knew there was something wrong with our galaxy; something odd about its rotation, about the layout of its contents. Even before they knew for sure, there was something that didn’t quite make sense about our home. Well, now we know. We still have no idea what force or being it was that made the universe, but we do know that whatever it was, the Milky Way was not part of its original plan. It was made artificially and put here much later. This idea, now proven was one that has been talked about in religious and educational gatherings on F-C61 for hundreds of years. But I didn’t come all the way back here to tell you that. The reason I’m standing here today, is to inform you all that whatever experiment it was that put us here has now come to a close. There has been no contact with any race of people who claim to have made us. However, star systems on the outskirts of the galaxy at coordinates that I will soon relay to the people at NASA, are disappearing. Whatever forerunner race did this are now rectifying their mistake by slowly eradicating our galaxy.”
The morbid finality he had said it with astounded him. He looked up from the blank paper again to the faces in the room, now ashen. The door in the front of the room slid open and he saw someone leave, to throw up he guessed. He remembered reacting the same when he was told, excusing himself from the observatory suite in which they worked to vomit noisily onto the hard packed clay of the alien landscape outside. There was no going back now, he had to finish what he was here to say. He resolved himself to try to sound comforting … somehow, as he continued.
He took a deep breath and it caught in his throat when he noticed one man sitting in the front raise his hand to question. He couldn’t resist.
“Yes.” He said, signalling the man to continue.
“I find it rather hard to get my mind around what you’re saying emissary,” Gabes eyebrows pushed into a v-shape, “you’re saying someone artificially made a galaxy full of millions of stars and planets, simply to destroy it later?”
Doubt. Disbelief. The senate had expected it. He was prepared for this; he would explain it only once. There would be no time to prove to every sceptic on the planet that his children’s children would witness the last day of the galaxy that spawned them.
“Yes. That’s what I am saying. As far as the creation of it goes, the Ki’Tarin have proved, if not mastered the concept of interchanging matter and energy. With enough of the latter, any physical object could be created. The only puzzling aspect is the question of where a race could acquire as much energy as would be needed to make the amount of matter contained in the Milky Way.” Staring at the man, Gabe knew he was not convinced. It did not matter, this man would not be the last to doubt. Gabe continued.
“We do know that to complete the interchange process, there is required a great deal of catalyst energy, and the same holds true for reversing it. It seems that the forerunner have started small with the star systems I mentioned and are using the energy from that break down to speed up the process of recycling the galaxy.
“Judging by the Ki’Tarin model we estimated that the damage the Milky Way is doing to the galaxy’s symmetry will be irreparable in about 146 Earth years. So we do know that the forerunner will have completed their task before then. For nearly ten months now, Ki’Tarin ships have been in the vicinity of the recycled systems trying to contact the forerunner species. There are no ships or anything material in sight. The planets and stars in the systems are simply ripping apart at the atomic level, seemingly on their own. This implies that the forerunner are either aware of us and do not want to be contacted, or long gone and the recycling process is some sort of automated failsafe. In either case, we’re on our own.”
Gabe silently thanked grace for giving him the strength to finish this speech without breaking down in front of the world. “Compassion.” He reminded himself again.
“Understandably, there are now an awful lot of frightened people out there. The same holds true for the people of F-C61. On the day I left to come back to Earth there was rioting on the streets on Gaedi, the world capital. Much like I imagine will come to pass here, crime and injustice shot across the face of an otherwise peaceful landscape. I ask you now to keep in mind that in panicking, in rioting, you will solve nothing. In Gaedi for over a month and on a smaller scale, even today, fanatical groups were preaching to the general public to pressure the government into finding a way to stop the recycling process.” The nods of the faces around room quickly died away as he continued. “However the world senate have decided on another plan. In the centuries that the Ki’Tarin have traveled the stars of our galaxy they have discovered over 158,000 other intelligent races. Much like me being here, the Ki’Tarin have sent ambassadors to each home world to suggest an allegiance. They propose that for the next century our peoples join together and begin the process of leaving this place. They propose an exodus. We cannot allow our selfish love for our home to destroy every living being in the universe, regardless of how distant that demise is.”
He thought briefly that he should allow what he said to sink in to these people. He thought briefly that maybe they should think about his words but decided on continuing. He’d known for over a year now, and it had not gotten any easier for him.
“Over the next century, with efforts from all the peoples of this galaxy, and the faster than light travel of our new friends; with the pooling of raw material resources from the unsettled planets in our territories, and the cooperation of the public everywhere we will build the sleeper ships necessary to take us away from here. Even with the technology of the Ki’Tarin it will take millennia to reach our new home while we hibernate. But we will reach it. That, I promise you. And no one will get left behind.”
He reached for the mental list in his mind. He was finished. He had said everything he came to say, and he was not the kind of man to waste time.
“Thank you.” He finished and ignoring the raised hands, screamed questions and camera flashes, strode back to his wife and took her hand. Judging by the faces of the 5 people around him, his inspiring conclusion had made at least some positive impact on them. He hoped it would be the same for the public. They were escorted from the room through a doorway behind the curtain at the back and strode down a windowless hallway to the presidents limo at the rear of the building. Connie was escorted away to another room as they were leaving saying she was feeling faint and needed to lie down. The 5 of them, Matthews and the president in the front and Gabe with Chantel and Sax on either side in the rear walked silently towards the car for some time. Just before reaching the outer door, Gabe felt Sax touch his arm.
“Where are they taking us Gabe? Do they even have that figured out yet?”
“We call it Andromeda don’t we? It’s the nearest one anyway. They think the forerunner actually modeled this one after it. We’ll find a place there, and in a few years we won’t even miss this planet.”
“Well, um,” It was the first thing his wife had said since they arrived at the conference, “if it’s going to take a century for us to leave then we aren’t even going to get to do it right? It’s something we won’t even live to see.”
She was the brightest glimmer of pure good left in his life Gabe thought as they walked out from under the dreary florescent lights to the shine of the near-noon sun. “Not everyone no, but there are key people who will; The three of us for instance and Sutherland too if the world senate deems him fit to govern our race. Old age no longer exists for the Ki’Tarin. Longevity is all gene based. Even humans nearly have that figured out. We’ll witness the exodus, and the settlement, and long thereafter.”
The doors to the limo slammed shut and they pulled out of the parking lot. As they drove away Gabe stared at the stretching, perfectly mowed grass of the White House gardens. Grass was something he had missed during his time gone. His wife took his hand again. He smiled at her and stole another quick glance out the tinted window at the greenery, silently saying the first of his many good byes to the world around him.
1 Comments:
Once again Nick you've outdone yourself...great story! I'm glad you finished it...I was waiting a long time! Now you just need to stop playing those video games and finish up the others! I can always count on you to give me some much needed fiction in this sad Acadian world of "Lame Deer, Seeker of Visions" and other gay ass "literature" like that...You rock Nick! Good show!
Post a Comment
<< Home