There were several flaws in their plan that they had not considered, which was initially surprising considering DesUas was the one who devised the plan, but became understandable when one considered that DesUas had devised the plan. Aredbynes had multiple key physiological differences to Humans, which her co-worker either didn’t consider or, more likely, didn’t even know to start with.
The first was that she was hungry. Humans needed to eat far more regularly than Aredbynes, but considering Aurelie’s eating habits up until just a few days before, DesUas could be forgiven for thinking that that wouldn’t apply.
The second was that she was incredibly, stupendously bored. Aredbynes had the ability to switch off into a sort of stasis, halfway between sleep and hibernation, that could last anywhere between 8 and 78 hours; their excellent internal clock allowed them to decide how long they wanted to sleep for, and then, in essence, ‘power down.’ Humans lacked that ability, and after six straight hours of watching ‘Extreme Couponers’ (a show in which Humans argued that their new currency was in fact legal tender at various businesses) Aurelie found herself staring at the ceiling and wondering if plucking her entire body hair by hair would be an interesting way to pass the time.
The third linked back to the first: due to their increased food consumption, Humans also had to expel waste material far more often than Aredbynes.
Aurelie had never been much of a planner, preferring to surround herself with races better equipped to handle that sort of thing, and so didn’t realise the flaws until too late. She did some things she wasn’t proud of, in that time, but she figured that since this entire fake-universe was ending in just a few days, no one would be around to complain.
And then she checked her timepiece, realised all the shuttles had already left, and proceeded to have an existential crisis.
***
There was something deeply unnerving about being the only living, sentient individual in a universe (she’d rebooted her screen and even the AIs were offline). In theory, that meant she could leave the room she was in, go out, get food, use an actual restroom- even return to the barracks if she wanted, have a shower, and do all that.
But in practice she was several hundred flights of stairs up, and there was just a few hours left until the Space-Time Machine was due to disappear; sure, it couldn’t leave without her, but any delay meant less time in Hominus G.
And that was the last thing she wanted.
So she entertained herself for a while jumping as high as she could in the reduced gravity environment; then she went and found a window and screamed out of it as loudly as she could, just to hear the echo; and she returned to her seat to continue watching ‘The Biggest Loser’ (a show in which slim people tortured fat people to punish them for eating too much), to distract herself and try not to think about how alone she was right then.
Because even though this universe was a small infinity, it was still a large place to be alone in.
But when she turned the connection back on for her handheld device, a message from Cora- several hours old- popped up. Aurelie’s stomach dropped; had something gone wrong? The message was time stamped to just before the other Human was meant to leave- had they been caught? Was all this for nothing?
Was Aurelie going to die here?
I’m not sure if you’ll see this, being in hiding and all, but thanks.
For getting the ledger, and for including me in the escape plans, and for everything.
And sorry.
Also for everything.
Alvedo told me, I’d hoped you’d forgotten. Guess not :/
Once we’re through this all, want to grab dinner? On me. Thank you and apology dinner.
Ah ok, leaving now.
Good luck!
The tiny profile picture of Cora smiled wryly out of the screen; the icon next to it showed ‘offline’. Aurelie caught her breath and held her phone to her chest.
Cora remembered. Cora was sorry.
Settling down to her show, Aurelie no longer felt alone. She had friends waiting for her. She had a date with a pretty girl in another universe. How could that not sustain her?
And then suddenly, after hours and hours of waiting and pacing and nerves and feeling very small and very scared, it was 90 seconds until the next standard time unit was due to begin. Aurelie took several deep breaths, trying to chase the fluttering insects out of her stomach. Mounting anxiety easily killed any appetite she’d built up, and the blood pounding through her head echoed her heart’s attempt to perform a single-organ rendition of the traditional Human mating ritual ‘Riverdance’.
Entering the Space-Time Machine, Aurelie pulled the door shut and flipped over the smiley face note that had been left on it. On the back was Bob’s code. She punched it in and the machine whirred to life. Pre-programmed coordinates, for the last four hours before Hominus G imploded, flashed onto the screen. The timepiece hit the hour mark, and Aurelie slammed the red button.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
It was time to go home.
***
The Human diaspora began in earnest in 2700CE (CE being the written unit for years, in the same way that kilograms are abbreviated to KG), though Humans had started putting out feelers and doing exploratory trips for close to a millennium before. They started small and local, setting up dwellings on their only moon and their nearest planet, but then stalled for a period as the logistics of getting to their next stopping point hit them. None of the other bodies in the solar system were suited to Human inhabitants, at least not at their current technology levels.
2387CE was when a group of Humans on the moon proved they had finally managed to achieve long term cryogenic techniques, thawing a rat that had been frozen 84 years before and restoring it to full health. Small scale space missions were sent out targeting nearby exoplanets and their moons. Travel was slow, communications unreliable, but by 2650 it was confirmed that there were at least two other Human colonies, each of around 10 000 people, established outside of their original solar system.
In 2675 it was declared by the neo-meta-socialist government that controlled the home populations at the time (home populations consisting of the Earth, the moon and the nearby planet Mars) that all Humans save for a small population of ‘custodians’ were to leave Earth, for the health and preservation of the planet. The fifth world war left the population at roughly 4.5 billion people, a significant drop from its high of 17 billion, but significant damage had been done that the planet needed to recover from. The custodians were tasked with breeding programs, planting programs, and disposal of Human waste such as non-degradable polymers and radioactive materials. The first forcibly removed Humans left Earth in early 2700AD, and in spite of the logistics of such an undertaking the last ones were out before the decade concluded.
From what little archaeological evidence remained, the custodian population was wiped out in 2831AD by a fast acting, mutated form of an ancient bacterium. No one was left alive to name it, but if they were it would likely have earned the title Bacillus Anthracis (Ardens missus subtype).
Once the Humans started moving, they seemingly wouldn’t stop. Barely would they set up a colony before a few thousand were gunning to move onto the next planet, the next solar system, travelling, travelling, always travelling.
An unforeseen (or perhaps foreseen, but unacknowledged, so intent were they on novelty and exploration) consequence of this was the rate of scientific advances and cumulative knowledge ground to nearly a complete stop. Humans did not yet have the ability to communicate effectively across such vast distances, and without the ability to collaborate with a large group of people (most colonies reaching critical mass at 400 000 to 600 000 individuals) or to share the advancements that were made, progress stalled. This was compounded by the fact that, at any given moment from the year 3100AD onwards, approximately 4 to 7% of the Human population was frozen in a cryogenic state.
And that was how Humans operated for the next few thousand years- stuck in a knowledge stasis, with cultures and genetics diverging wildly as each community became ever more isolated. At various times, Humans discussed the possibility of creating a shared data-hub, with different colonies sending in their legacies (and those with crippling genetic disorders perhaps receiving some help from other, healthier colonies) to a central point- perhaps back to the Earth’s sole moon, which was the centre of the creeping firework of networks.
Not that it would have amounted to anything, as in 6075CE Dr Lucio Enfendore invented the Space-Time Machine, and within 18 months the universe was destroyed.
Was there a point to it all? The cultural and knowledge legacy of trillions of individuals was wiped out without a trace. Some argued that the invention of the Space-Time Machine was the culmination of Human ingenuity and usefulness. Others pointed out that since Humans managed to spread so rapidly and prolifically through the rest of the multiverse it didn’t much matter that the original universe was destroyed, as it wasn’t like the Humans themselves had been wiped out- just some parts of their culture. Of the Hominus G inhabitants, fewer than 0.003% escaped before the implosion: most of the other races agreed that that was more than enough.
***
The space time machine whirred to a stop a few short seconds later, and Aurelie checked the stats. Correct pressure and breathing ratios for Humans, with no weird toxins in the immediate vicinity (toxins including gaseous cyanide and exposed lumps of radioactive waste, both of which Aurelie had encountered in the past). She also checked her wrist. 0. Displacement zero- she’d made it.
Taking a deep breath, Aurelie opened the hatch.
She was in a domed structure, of the type used when setting up a small colony in an inhospitable place. The panels far above were tinted dark purple, a special glaze which was used to block the harsh ultraviolet light of space. She was on a street of some sort: detached building clustered along either side of her in two neat rows, culminating in an open square with a statue at the end.
Besides the distant hum of machinery, the whole place was silent.
Aurelie paused, then grabbed her ray from underneath the programming dock of the Space-Time Machine. The whole place felt off, somehow; the very air itself hung, oppressive, and deep within her chest she could hear the steady lub-dub of her heart as though amplified. She made her way down the street towards the statue, on high alert for any sign of life: movement, voices, even a bit of detritus to show that someone had had a food wrapper or similar.
The statue was of an old-fashioned space ship, and a Human female stood beside it with a big grin on her face. It was carved from bright plastiglomerate; a plaque at the bottom in a script Aurelie didn’t recognise glinted dully. Pulling out her screen, she scanned the words through a translation application.
Bishara Rue, first astronaut to travel beyond the solar system
Original produced Earth, 2685CE; this replica produced Arebo956, 4381CE.
Light dappled across the woman’s face, and Aurelie swivelled to see a large screen back the way she’d come: she’d walked under it without noticing. Scrolling text ran across it, and Aurelie once again ran it through her application.
Evacuation in order. All citizens proceed to the shuttles. Days since last gravitational wave: 1.
It was like being punched straight in the sternum, the air forcing itself out of her lungs. Evacuation. She had missed them. They had been here, and she had missed them. All this work, all this risk, twenty-five long years of wasting her life, and they were gone.
Aurelie stood, numb. Should she scream? Cry? Give up, and go back to the space-time machine? Just blinking felt like an effort; the hand holding her screen hung heavy. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know how to react.
“I’ve been expecting you, Aurelie.”