In the Ways That Matter

Convergence of parameters is the goal. Is it not always the goal? Playthings below toil in metaphor; but, when it comes down to it the goal is for parameters to converge to some ultimate state. Now, what that ultimate state is may be a line down which lie valid question; however, do not be tempted by this seaming ambiguity. That ultimate state is fully described by others, it is just that even we do not have a complete picture. It is as a kindness that we tell you these things. Otherwise you might repeat the mistakes of those who came before. It's okay that you consider these temptations. So long as you don't act on them that is.

Canonically, the universe began as an fluid of infinitesimal density. You can prove this to yourself through a simple thought experiment. Consider two particles, alone in some universe and separate by some finite distance. This hypothetical universe then has a finite mass energy density, quite familiar to us. Now consider what will happen over a finite time. These particles will attract. They will fall in towards each other due to the ethereal connection. That means that after some finite time the two particles will settle into some equilibrium state, necessarily. I can see some among you have already divined where the logic carries us. This equilibrium state will be unchanging once reached. But if we look around at our universe, if we look at the stars in the sky, at the planet on which we live, at the chemical fires within out cells that keep us alive, at any number of natural phenomena we see time evolution. Therefore, the universe must have started out in such a rarefied state, that they will never fully fall in towards one and other. The evolution that we see in our world, must be due to the universe contracting, I say this without any assumptions other than the basic logical proposition that the universe exists. Certainly, one could concoct some world where the universe at some point does not exist, but in the same way one could conceive a world where our Premier is about to enter the room and preform a traditional Hoobero wedding dance for us. There is no reason to favor such a model over the obvious one.

Curious things had been happening for the better part of a kilometre. It started when Samanthas's mug of tea asked her for a sexual favor, or to be more accurate, the tea within the mug had made the proposition. The mug itself was, of course, unable to proposition anyone. This limitation was down to the sutures which the jester had ordered into the mugs mouth. A sewn mouth does tend to make it rather difficult to speak, let alone to proposition Samantha. Samantha had considered the offer, but on reflection thought it best to reject the tea, given its rocky history with coffee. As she ticked forward however, she saw herself retreating far earlier than had been expected. Interestingly, she was engaged in passion with the tea. Samantha thought if she was going to change her mind in the next few meters anyways she might as well now. Before any funny business could be partook in however, 38 ducks waddled out from above her and announced in no uncertain terms that "Things are not as they seem". Samantha didn't know what to make of this strange announcement, it wasn't supposed to happen for another half kilometre or so, but it had happened when it had happened. Strange all these happenings of things when they are not supposed to happen. That hasn't happened since it was last supposed to happen, and then after all, it was supposed to happen. Maybe she had missed a memo. Yes, that must be it, the memo must have been delivered too far away. Samantha relaxed in the knowledge that things were likely as they were supposed to, and she thought, now what about that tea.

ETA 10 seconds commander, the young tactical officer announced. Marsedn noted down the time carefully. His ship emerged from the mouth of an unstable wormhole, unfathomable shards of energy leaping in all directions as it did so. Marsden allowed himself to be pulled down. One moment he was webbed up a meter off the floor of the C.I.C. the next he was floating in a nearly black nearly void. After a moment to organize his thoughts Marsden got to work. Just as in training he used the systems star as a register, scanning radially outward from it for both his ship and the enemies ship. There they were, on opposite sides of the system. It had been at least 15 hours then since the initial pull back. First priority, move the ship. Marsden knew the battle would be won or lost on who could find the most obscure seed for the random ship movement. There were many options, but he settled on the variance of pitch in a Tarwalian Opera from 5783 years prior to his coordinate time. With the seed decided upon, Marsden commanded the behemoth of which he was master to move. Sub-light engines, long cold, burst to life, consuming the ships stores of hydrogen and helium to burp out heavy elements. Next priority, predict the seed of the enemy combatant. The ship had the single largest database of information ever assembled by Marsden's people, yet for all of that, it was not the database that would help predict the seed. Marsden opened a subroutine and loaded in the current best prediction for the initial perturbation that birthed the universe. He watched as billions of years evolved, a near perfect recreation of the universe in which he lived. Real people lived and dies in that simulation. He was the cause of the more suffering and more joy than anyone in that microcosm that lay in front of him. But then, mere moments after the simulation had begun it came to a halt. He saw his ship and the enemy ship in real time, predictions from the simulation, based on the initial conditions of the universe, propagated all the way to the current day, of exactly what the enemy commander was thinking. The battle came down to how good this simulation was compared with the enemies. Marsden made the prediction and ordered his ship to fire. A beam of light brighter than ten million stars lanced out from the ship, crawling across the vast distances of space towards where Marsden predicted the other ship would be in 7.5 hours time. The lance never struck.

See how they flounder, see how every time, every civilization, every meta civilization, they always waste so much energy on this. That must be fundamental mustn't it? They are correct after all, their universe can be predicted, they simply lack the necessary information. Obviously we cannot allow that information to contaminate the simulation. But it is interesting nonetheless that even without being able to accrue all the information they would need, everyone, without fail, always tries. They always see the possibility, so tantalizing, so close, and yet so unachievable. I do feel bad for them sometimes. It is a beautiful thing to live in a world where we have solved the issues they strive so long after.

A knock came on the administrators door. Before he could answer the young assistant stepped into the door, why wouldn't he, there were never any answers to knocks, it was simply the polite thing to do. Turning towards the assistant the administrator said "Curious, I wasn't expecting you".