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The Next Generation · Original Short Story ·
The Longest Possible Now
The people of Earth had a chance to see it coming. Somehow, they knew it was the end.

In a time long ago, long before humans had invented bipedalism, two great stellar civilizations had waged war in the neighboring arm of the galactic spiral. The Arkyz, a race something like moths and something like lizards, had a desire for worlds around type G stars, which made them competitors with the Gybyri, beings of spidery crystal who communicated in spectral bursts. They soon vied against each other, developing weapons that were effective eliminators of resistance, but which left natural resources unharmed.

One such weapon, which was too large and intricate to be called a bomb, and which the Arkyz dubbed a Hiator,was set in motion from an Arkyz world wracked by a genetic plague. It was supposed to be part of the ending blow, the revenge of the Arkyz against their tormentors who had slain so many of their children.

A Gybyri interceptor, placed to stop such attacks, reached the Hiator and burst, just a fractional second too late to destroy it. It did succeed in altering its destination. Popped out of space and time into the vagarous curls of warpspace, the Hiator was forgotten to the universe for a while, and re-entered existence a great distance away.

There it drifted, all starfields unfamiliar, dropping beacons at periods according to protocol, until it encountered a star that matched the parameters of its intended target. It entered orbit around the star and extended its fields in a hemisphere around Sol, drinking in enough energy to perform the task it needed to do.

From Earth, it seemed that a dim film had slid across three quarters of the sun, making it resemble a cunning half-lidded eye or a cruel smile.

The Hiator identified the system’s inhabited world and took an hour to draw enough power to start its task. It directed its energies towards Earth, expanding its detectors and preparing for evasive action against planetary defenses. It had no way to process that Earth has no defenses that could possibly stop it.

The nations on Earth’s sunlit side saw it happening. To them, it seemed that the eye of the sun has closed, dimming the sky so that stars started to become visible through the dusky blue. But then, these stars started to wink out, as the Hiator drew nearer to the Earth.

On long highways, deadlocked in the middle of solid traffic, some abandoned their cars for a futile walk towards home. Some ran to neighboring towns to purchase bicycles. Some sat on or near their cars, the lucky ones who managed to make a cell connection, saying a long goodbye to their families, looking at photos of them on their phones.

Air traffic grew congested and chaotic at the airports, as they were not designed to hold all of the world’s aircraft trying to land at once with none taking off. The planes on standby circled like bees around the nest, their pilots marking the likeliest places to ditch the planes for an emergency landing, and glancing repeatedly at the darkening sky.

Tourists ceased to pose by monuments and trained their cameras frantically on the sky. In Pisa, none of the people who had been helpfully trying to hold up the leaning tower seemed inclined to aid the sun by holding up cigarette lighters.

On a street in Naples, a group of children stood gazing at the sky in wonderment, while a circle of adults stood around them, facing outwards with hands linked, ready to challenge any danger. Eight miles away, in an unexcavated field at the outskirts of ancient Pompeii, a similar scene lay buried in the solidified ash.

Around the world, scattered people made their way to the tops of tall buildings, standing right at the edge and staring up, ready to take a quick exit if a worse doom appeared in the sky. On many hilltops, a crowd of disciples gathered, listening to the triumphant and slightly smug exhortations of their spiritual leaders who had been prophesying doom for many years now and were finally receiving what they conceived to be their just payoff for failed predictions of the past and liberties foregone.

In like manner, humanist and rationalist communities, despite the apt metaphor regarding herded cats, gathered on internet fora and in public circles around their perceived authority figures, for human nature is something as real and reliable as any fact.

In one city two co-workers stood at a window, one devoutly religious, one an atheist. One watched in excited anticipation of a foretold end, one in a growing panic, as the sky turned from blue to black.

Families tried to group together in peaceful surroundings, and more often got caught in squalling discordant throngs. Few had the sense to stay at home and just hug each other.

Looters and pranksters took to the streets. Unheedful of temporal or spiritual authorities, or even of common sense, they stole goods that they would have no chance to use. In their houses, in the woods, in alleys, in the streets, people copulated, seeking comfort in the most fundamental human contact.

In Atlanta, a hitman held his gun warily on his victim, who knelt in terror and prayer. Finger on the trigger, he wondered if an eclipse had been scheduled for today.

Yet amid the chaos and the carnage, the rising panic and the breaking of societal ties, there were still those who stood for what was right: people helped, for there are always people who are helping in one way or another. The sharp edges of the bell curve were thrown into distinct view.

The Hiator assumed orbit, and thus the world ended.

It projected a field that took effect around each subatomic particle of Earth, and locked each in a fixed position with respect to itself, exchanging a precisely known position in space for an indeterminate velocity in extra dimensions. What was struck by its influence became colder than ice, colder than anything else possible in the universe.

Planet, air, people turned solid instantly. Descending aircraft, out of fuel, became locked in the air like flies in amber. Suicidal jumpers hung suspended over streets, razors halted as they were drawn over wrists, lover’s kisses became locked in darkness.

The Hiator held Earth and Moon in this state, frozen with respect to each other. The Hiator absorbed the incident solar radiation and used it to maintain its field of effect. The Earth and Moon continued to orbit the sun, rotating about the barycenter like an athlete spinning up a shotput. Earth’s atmosphere no longer permitted the transmission of light, and the globe, with atomic motion reduced to near zero, was effectively as cold as it was possible for anything to get in the universe. The solar system was not greatly affected; it swung around in its due course, as Earth abided. Wrapped in the blackened atmosphere, all life on Earth was trapped, motionless, like fossils in rock, hearts stuck between beats, racing thoughts locked in neurons, colder than any ice ever felt.

The eons passed and the universe grew old. Stars blazed through their lives and died in great illuminating bursts of agony, raging against the end of the light. Planets spun and orbits decayed, and still Earth abided, a jewel suspended in time and being.

Eventually, Sol itself had given most of its force. It entered its swollen stage, and took the substance of Mercury and Venus back into itself in its red rage. Earth it did not touch. But the Hiator absorbed more energy while it could, and maintained the stasis, and released its beacons, waiting for assistance that never came.




Time passed as well for the Arkyz, time to evolve and recover, and regret. They had assumed that the Hiator had been destroyed, and had used another means to win the war with the Gybyri, one that attacked the delicate structures of their brains. It took eons for both races to recover from what they had done to each other, and the beings that each evolved into in the meantime had little taste for total war. They thereafter reached accord and found peace.

And it came to pass that as the universe stretched itself flatter and flatter and time grew more and more weary, an Arkyz probe discovered a wayward beacon. Ancient records were searched, and the memory of the Hiator recalled. Probes were sent, then a full expedition, to behold the black spinning spheres rotating around a dim white dwarf that was all that remained of humanity’s fabled Sun. The expedition swiftly returned and made its report, and the problem of Earth was deemed worthy for a grand forum.

The Arkyz home world of Mecth was no longer a natural thing. The oceans were full of particles that thought; in the deserts, every grain of sand was at once a solar collector and a tiny mind. The very clouds were permeated with sapient particles and were under full control, and worked to selectively shade the ground. Though these were many entities, in aggregate they were called Mecth after the planet, for it was as if the world itself was alive with the most powerful intellect that the Arkyz could create.

Their star, called Savsti, was largely tamed, being surrounded by a Dyson Web, a self-repairing network of orbiting panels that could selectively block and absorb light or permit it to pass

Most of the Arkyz were now virtual, leading their entire lives within the vast collective mind of their planet, the Incended, for they appeared projected in reality like beings of pure light or fire. Having no parents in the usual sense of the term, they called themselves the Children of Mecth.

But a life within a machine is not for all, and so among the Arkyz lingered the Naturals, those who chose to remain in their limited material bodies. Of the Naturals, few chose to go wholly unaugmented, living out unenhanced lives and dying within the paltry span of two hundred and twenty years. And so many of the Naturals, while still physical beings, were constructed inside of more permanent stuff than nature had first used to construct their race.

All of these factions now gathered at the grand forum to consider the problem of Earth. It was held in a coliseum of light that grew outside the Natural’s largest remaining city, to save the Naturals the trouble of migrating, for to the Children of Mecth distance was no longer a concern.

Also among them came representatives of the Gybyri, to debate what would be done, for here near the end of all things, the Gybyri were partners to the Arkyz in determining what could usefully be done to prolong the existence of the universe, or failing that, to escape it.

A representation of Mecth appeared at the center of the forum as a great globe, and the Children circled around it in darts of fire like satellites of joy. The Naturals reclined on couches or upon perches, the better to spread their wings under the light of Savsti, and the Gybyri reposed on crystalline discs that served to translate their spectral flashes into audible speech.

Vygvor, Procounsel of the Gybyri, raised its flectors and shone briefly with sparkling intensity to call for attention. “We are come to discuss a serious matter, in which the fate of an entire race and world have been attached to the responsibilities of the Arksyz. As we were of old your foes, and we can take only peripheral blame, we may speak more freely on this subject than you who are our hosts, and so we shall spare you distress by taking on the burden of speaking the case against intervention, and leaving this planet Earth as we found it.

“Firstly, we observe that we have here a frozen moment of a world, and we ask, what is the value of such a moment? Countless such moments have passed into the darkness of time, and countless races in the universe have gone to extinction, with no complaints or calls for their resurrection. There is nothing so remarkable about one instant, barely a blink of the cosmic eye, to call for such effort to preserve it.

“Next, we bring the issue of the mutual survival of our two races. Most here know that our means are limited as we seek to ensure that our races will continue beyond the end of this universe, only an estimated billion years hence. Our most hopeful present plan is to create a fold in space around our worlds so that they may expand untroubled into a newly born universe, but there are limits to the degree to which space may be folded to produce such, for each such outpouching takes up much of the remaining entropy, and many, many races have already taken their leave in this manner. In this regard, trying to rescue the populace of Earth would just be an additional burden, and may cost us our own chance to survive.

“Last, we observe that the universe is old. There is a question of whether Earth should be awakened, so close to its end. Their familiar sun is gone. We could enshroud them in a sphere of blackness easily enough, pierced with lights that mimic what they would expect to see. We would thereby do them no favors, and our efforts to protect and guide them into a brief existence would take away resources for the calculation of how we may best surpass the coming end.

“We here close our remarks and yield to the general discussion.” Vygvor ceased flashing its flectors and tucked in its many legs to await a response.

“We value all moments of ours that we can preserve!” cried the impetuous Children, swirling in fiery streaks of light. “And were the creatures of this planet Earth present to speak, they would claim the same. They have museums, libraries, storage in virtual space. By a fortunate chance it is still possible to preserve them, hence we should do what we can. The first point is thus demolished!”

Evisk, speaker of the Naturals, rose from her perch. Her furry scales gave the appearance of age and wisdom, but underneath she was hale as a hatchling. “I believe I can quickly answer the other points, for they deal only with questions of material and temporal factors. But this is not the sort of equation we balance by looking at time, or resources, material as common as hydrogen.

“This is the sort of equation where the result must be: do our actions make us Arkyz? Are they the way we should act, that we can hold up our heads, and walk with pride? Should our mighty heroes of history rise forth from the dust and ask us what we have done, would we be able to fix their eyes with our own and give them an honest answer of courage? This factor must have the greatest weight in the equation.”

Mecth took note of Evisk’s words, for it was already including such intangible terms in its inner calculations, and it was pleased at the harmony between itself and the Naturals, admiring the beautiful fit of the dimensional curve that expressed the attitude in mindspace.

Mecth spoke next in a voice like the thunder and wind. “It seems that most are in agreement, and the main objections were urged not from the desire that they be heeded, but for sake of duty. It cannot be denied that it was an Arksyz device of war that brought this planet and its people to their present state. And therefore, we the Arksyz shall do what we can to make this right. However, we cannot simply deactivate the Hiator and leave them otherwise as they were. How shall we make our restitution?

“Restitution must begin with starlight,” said Evisk. “Their own star can no longer support them, and indeed has done its very best to kill them.”

“The galaxy is lacking now in G class stars,” observed Vygvor. “We have not the time to build a star for them, using the method by which we extend the lifetime of our own stars by importing stellar material from the blue giants.”

“Bring them here,” said the Children. “They can share Savsti with us.”

“Quite easy to say,” Vygvor blinked. “Planetary orbits are not simple slots on a track! Two worlds cannot stably share an orbit, and you cannot just insert another orbit without disrupting all.”

“We can manage,” said Mecth. “They can orbit opposite us, with periodic adjustments, and we can attenuate the light of Savsti to exactly what they require by manipulating the solar web. What else must we do?”

“We must undertake to waken them with a minimum of disturbance,” said Evisk. “Even when we have them in a safe orbit, we cannot just turn off the Hiator all at once and leave them be. They were suffering the greatest amount of fear when our weapon struck them. The best simulations we have run so far allow a five percent reduction in the planetary population--”

“We demand that no lives be lost!” cried the Children of Mecth, surging in waves of reddening fire.

“You must understand that such ideals, while noble, cannot always be implemented in real life,” said Vygvor. “This is already a monumental undertaking. Should we rescue even a percentage of them, it will be a colossal effort for which they must be grateful.”

“This is not a point of negotiation for us.” The Children became like pillars of fire around the globe of Mecth. “We will find a way if you will not, but no lives at all shall be lost on this Earth as we restore it. We shall incarnate and join the effort if necessary. But we are adamant!”

“Mecth, is this at all possible?” asked Evisk.

“The most feasible way to accomplish this,” said Mecth, “is to convert all life on the surface to virtual intelligences, like the Children themselves.”

“This is not acceptable to us,” said Evisk, as the other Naturals stirred with anger behind her. “It is taking their destiny from them, to turn them into virtual intellects without their consent. They must all have a choice, even those in peril, for many of the Naturals consider virtualization to be a form of death in any case.”

“You thus reject the true embodiment of spirit in our universe!” said the Children, burning brighter. “We are intellect unfettered to gross material, and we are just what the Naturals purportedly long to become after their span has finished!”

Mecth had seen this debate many times before, and judged it to be unfruitful in this case. “There is a compromise possible,” said Mecth. “The Naturals do not object to the adjustment of unliving or nonsapient materials, such as the matter which comprises all of Mecth.”

The Children cooled, and the Naturals nodded, for they saw what was coming.

Mecth continued. “The Earth is made of rock, just as Mecth was once only rock.

“And we shall teach that rock how to think.”




The details were all arranged in but a few centuries, and Earth and Moon were translocated and guided gently into a new orbit, frigid black spheres dimly reflecting light from the surrounding cosmos.

The light of Savsti shone now over the dark sphere, appearing with a corona in the sky like a space lion.

The Hiator was given its instructions. It was to withdraw its influence along limited pathways, to give the substance of Mecth time to permeate and prepare itself in the bones of the Earth. Through crust and mantle, it descended, reorganised and made itself manifest.

Sapience swam through the seas and crawled into the interstices of the rocks and between the strata. It entered the trees and danced with the chlorophyll.

And the bones of the Earth became aware for the first time, for without pathways that can perceive each other, there is no consciousness, without branches that can change in response to the passing time, there is no memory, and nothing about which to think.

For the first time, the Earth saw the sunrise. It felt its own children. Earth reconstructed the striving, the motion. The drive to be, the blind thrashing, the drive to move and consume, and in the end the urge to be more. Matter had to make something more of itself, something more than mounds or seas or wisps of gas. Matter had to become something, had to move to better purpose than weak chemical interactions or nuclear forces.

It perceived its own history buried in its skin. It felt the presence of the life upon it, and now it was something that could understand, and something that could take compassion, and something that could act.

The Hiator gradually withdrew its field, and the Earth’s blackest, coldest and longest night receded from it in a long sweeping wave. The first sunlight in billions of years reached the surface.

Earth awoke, and the life upon it awoke as well. The oceans rose and swelled again to the tides, and the dolphins and whales broke the surface again, and the Children of Mecth left streaks of fire in the sky as they flew, and their fire left gleaming ripples in the water.

Sunlight streamed over the land, and the people woke from bitter anguished night to glorious day. The ground thrummed strangely under their feet. Fights were disrupted by shockwaves that rippled through the ground; flying bullets were deflected by rising banks of rock, knives melted in the hands of their wielders.

The Children of Mecth had practiced their maneuvers over and over, and they flew directly to falling aircraft and plummeting humans to guide them safely down. As the figures streaked through the sky, two co-workers watched, one in delighted vindication, one in a severe crisis of non-faith, and neither one justified by the facts.

Around the world, as the light streamed through the trees and the birds sang, people blinked, shook their heads, and laughed. There was a sweetness in the air as if the gates of the heavens had opened, and everything seemed rich as butter, and crisp as a mountain spring. Lovers who had been kissing each other for millenia looked each other in the eye, laughed with joy, and kissed again with a new feeling.

The explanations would wind up taking years. It would take many more years before the people of Earth would be able to help the Arksyz and the Gybyri in earnest, in the grand quest to avoid the eternal gray night at the end of the universe.

But on that bright day, a voice spoke to all people, in a language they had already known in their bones since birth, a voice that rose from the ground and soared through the air and seemed to sparkle in the new constellations of the sky.

Now at last, I am able to greet you.

You are not and were never alone.
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#1 ·
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I really like myths and legends, and this had a very good cosmic feel to it. Good job!
#2 ·
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Stories like this always leave me feeling cold and empty, because this? We don't have this. If it is possible, if that's even the case, we WON'T have this, in our time.

It's not my problem, but I fear for it.
#3 · 1
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I don't think I'm grasping the significance of the stinger.

So, the earth itself is sapient now. It's telling people hello. But, uh, they were alone, right? It wasn't alive before, plus none of the aliens were around. So... yeah.

The setup here is pretty cool. Freezing the whole earth + moon while aliens argue over it's fate? Excellent scope, lots of potential for all sorts of drama. I remember reading a scene in a Heinlein book (Have Spacesuit Will Travel...?) where they put the Earth on trial, and it's stuck with me since I first read it.

The trial itself... not super riveting. I didn't feel like there was actually a possibility for any real damage, and so I didn't feel like it had a lot of tension. Sure, not everything needs tension, but still.

In the end, I found a lot of this fun and easy to read. It had some of that sensawunda that I enjoy in sci-fi. The opening descriptions of all the people on Earth might have felt a bit padded, and the ending seemed entirely too abrupt, but it was fun.

I just wish I had a better idea what you're going for thematically. That stinger feels like it should be really important, but I'm just not grasping it, I guess.
#4 ·
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I haven't used:

The adjective "Stapledonian" in maybe a decade or two, but this definitely qualifies. The word comes from Olaf Stapledon, a British SF author of the 1930s, who wrote these books with no real characters in them that spanned millions of years of galactic history. It's not a style I tend to enjoy, but this is pretty fun and short enough that the lack of detailed individuals didn't bother me too much.

Still, I think it might strengthen the story to put some actual characters into it. Maybe tell the first section from the POV of some human scientist trying to figure out what's happening during Earth's last days, then pull back to the POV of the person among the Arkyz who first picks up the Hiator's beacon and figures out what's happened. This Arkyz character can then become the advocate for reviving Earth in the big assembly, and the story can end with that Arkys introducing the unfrozen Earth scientist to the newly sapient planet. Or something like that. It'd make the story longer, but it'd also make it more concrete and draw readers into the world more firmly. If we've gotten to know someone who's been frozen on the Earth, it'll give us more of a stake in the outcome.

Mike
#5 ·
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The writing style here reminds me of some old sci-fi stories I remember reading from the 1950s and 1960s. Unfortunately, the story itself also reminded me of them, and not in a very good way.

Ultimately, the story seems to be more concerned with itself and its own weirdness than being interesting for an audience. I felt disengaged from the conflict and the arguments did not really convey a whole lot of emotional tenor. Moreover, a lot of the argument was about alien politics to which were were freshly introduced and which we have no real interest in. The ultimate solution is a bit too perfect and also just kind of feels random, with the whole “Earth given a mind” thing being more or less a deus ex machina.
#6 ·
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As I said to the other judges, The Longest Possible Now is a great idea for a story, and I hope the author writes it someday.

But right now it’s not that story. It’s like a 4,000 word summary of an outstanding science fiction novel. Some of the concepts outlined here really engaged me. Like, I wanted to hear more about these alien races and the Hiator and the philosophical debate the warring parties engaged in to finally solve the problem of Earth.

As an homage to some of the great science fiction of the 1950s, The Longest Possible Now succeeds. But an homage is not a story (though a story can be an homage). Take this idea and run with it, author, and you’ll have something that can win a contest