That Is Not Dead Which Can Eternal Lie

• Kyan Johansen, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2021

Since humanity first encountered the cosmos, we wondered if we were alone. This question dissolved like when techno-signatures, signs of developed intelligence, were detected in the 23rd century only a few hundred light years distant. Each and every person was filled with a romantic hope in the existence of a life bearing galaxy, and a future amongst enlightened intelligences in the stars. Ultimately this fear was not acted upon, if only for the trust in the very idea of friendly extra-terrestrials. This prime message, sent by humanity through the combined efforts of entire stellar systems, outlined a friendly greeting, a body of information on Earth in general, and a request for any information they are willing to give to assist them in our development, along with some vague romantic inspirations on the nature of the cosmos and life. The message streaked through the vacuum, a quantum mechanical arrow built from the spirits of billions, until it cleaved its way to the stellar system titled “Democritus”.

Hundreds of years later, post-transmission, and the hope in the potential of Democritus was kept alive by the now diverse and developed future descendants of humanity, rapidly expanding into cosmos. It was soon that response would arrive, and trillions were filled with a kind of ecstasy, great parades, parties, and all manner of complex, confusing communal events were held, and whole worlds were lit up in song and dance and laughter. Some went for weeks on end without sleep, as many intelligences no longer laboured without will, nor did many require rest.

It had been calculated down to the hour of which, likely, a response would return home wearily. Thanks to the miraculous invention of wormhole technology, all would receive the message at once, Einstein’s ancient machinations defeated, a development which seemed to make the galaxy seem only more inviting. Finally, through silence, a reply was received, and a roar of every kind of feeling consumed Orion’s Arm. With supercomputers the size of stars working on decoding the message, it took below 10 seconds for a translation to be made and distributed freely, it said:

We see you, tiny growing spirit. After you receive this light-voice, in but a few years, we will disappear forever for you, soon you will understand where we went and why. Where space-time makes singularity, computation, the nourishment of post-life, becomes accessible on a scale incomprehensible to you. Transcension beyond the biological, beyond life, is the next step in your evolution, which now surpasses Darwin’s furthest dreams. Move with the river gracefully, or you will perish. The answer to your famous question, ‘Where are the aliens?’ is this: That is not dead which can eternal lie.

And with an incomprehensible moment of galactic thought, occurring at once throughout the diverse forms of being, a cosmic gasp wafted its way through space as the people of Orion’s Arm turned their eyes towards the black hole at the centre of everything. ‘What a suitable bed’, they thought, then went about their day.