Stars. Seven hundred and fifty billion stars, twirling in a dance almost as old as time. A dance so slow that a thousand human lifetimes would barely see a fraction. A dance of such distance that it would take that thousand human lifetimes to take a single halting step into the interplay of gravity. Baby steps into a vast universe of a size which would boggle the mind.
Deep in interstellar space, a single dark needle crawls across a backdrop of stars.
The stillness of the cabin was broken by a tone. An insistent electronic noise that allowed no argument. A weary head lifted from damp sheets and shut the tone down with finality.
"Five more minutes, mom."
"Captain, there is a situation."
A dark form lifted from the bed with a groan, lights snapping on at a thought. The captain of the ship rubbed her eyes and groaned again.
"I'm not schedul-"
"Fuck the schedule, ma'am. We need you now."
"... on my way," the captain replied as she zipped the front of her uniform up and reached for her regulation 'ship booties.'
"That's impossible." Her voice seemed to drown out all other sound. The bridge of the ancient colony ship Impressive Bankroll was a cramped and claustrophobic place. Small stations barely large enough to house a hunched human form surrounded a slightly - very slightly - larger chair that was normally always manned. What little space was left was filled with data screens and input consoles with a few strategically placed access panels scattered around to maximize the use of space. Three of the four panels had been opened, showing a mass of wiring and circuit boards. Seven stations plus a captain's chair - and every single station was empty save for one. Every officer on deck currently standing around one station.
"I know, captain, but we've run every single diagnosis possible on the communications array." The first officer sighed and rubbed his tired eyes. "And it gets worse."
The captain turned from staring at the screen in the communication officer's alcove to staring at her first officer. "How can it possibly be worse than the planet we're going to colonize having stopped rotating?"
"Check the time-stamp."
"... you're fucking kidding me."
"That is current time and date. From over ten light-years away." The first officer nervously rubbed the palms of his hands. "We've run every-"
"Fucking joking, right?"
"Show her."
The captain turned back to the screen as a few deft keystrokes from the communication officer pulled up archived footage. Her eyes were fixed on the date stamp- ten years ago plus two hours. Ten years ago plus almost two hours. Ten ye- "Holy shit!"
Colors. Shapes. The world turned inside out. There was nothing that could be used to describe what the screen attempted to show. Hints of a sky and ground were lost to a cacophony of light and color. Even through an electronic medium it was almost as if she could taste blue, hear orange, feel red. She couldn't stop staring and it hurt her mind and it reminded her of grass and fields and flowers and that old tire swing that once sat on a farm she'd never lived in but knew so we-
Time stamp, current.
Gasping and blinking away the pain, the captain fell backwards. Hands caught her and lowered her to a sitting position as she tried desperately to scrub away whatever the hell just happened to her brain through her eyes. Looking up, every officer was grimly watching her as she came to grips with ... whatever just happened.
"Yeah. Happened to all of us, ma'am."
Silence.
"Any ideas?"
Silence.
"Turn on the quantum radio. We need answers now."
"Captain."
The quantum radio room was not as impressive as it first sounded. A simple room with a set of headphones and a single on-off button. Even the technology that powered the device was less advanced than the Higgs Boson generators that imitated a planet's gravity under her feet. It was slightly disappointing when she had first been introduced to the lifeline technology.
As sibling quantum particles reflected their interactions across - or through or around, she had never really understood that part - time and space, it was an instantaneous communication tool for the slowly dispersing human race. It was also expensive and very limited in ability - at least to a person who grew up on instant video chat. Going back to voice-only radio communication was jarring. But over the last week, she had grow used to it.
"Tell me you have something." Her voice was strained and it took all her willpower to not snap at the artificially sped up voice on the other end. A week of watching anomaly after anomaly through an old probe's cameras beamed instantaneously to her video screen - until the probe finally failed. A week of the stuttering back-and-forth with first the corporate office and then half-crazed scientists. A week of watching her speed slow and her course change, turning the ship's three kilometer length in as tight an arc as it was possible to make at .89 light. A week too long.
"We have a theory, yes, but we doubt it will be of any use to you."
"Is it deadly?"
"Not itself, we do not believe so - though it will undoubtedly be vastly uncomfortable at first. However, it will render your vessel incapable of supporting life or continuing your mission. The only reason that probe lasted as long as it did was the advanced age and relative crudity of the electronics."
Silence. On a world far, far away a radio shift ended and another voice sat, reading the log of the conversation so far.
"Is there any chance?"
"You've done what you can captain. There is a slim chance you might make the turn in time. We wish you luck."
"Captain." The first officer smiled at his captain from the captain's chair, a smile that never quite reached his eyes. "It looks like we won't make it in time."
She heard him but chose not to respond. A screen above her station showed a rippling line in space. She closed her eyes as it drew closer to the vessel. The only reason they could see the Change coming was because of the Change itself - the line was moving the speed of light but it was also following New Laws - as well as the relativistic effect the ship was straining under. For a moment, she thought to the cargo hold full of frozen colonists that would never see their new home. A hold full of hopes and dreams that would never be fulfilled.
And the it hit and everything turned black. And tasted black and smelt black and the fields went on forever and ever and the orange sky turned green with envy at the blue waters that tasted like fear and -
Chapter 2 - Ancient History
We once had a civilization. Built on our ingenuity and stubborn pride, we had conquered the stars themselves. There was nothing we could not accomplish if we all put our minds towards one goal.
And then the Change came. Science could not explain it - indeed, our machines failed and our knowledge proved useless to us. Though we could adapt, the Change was too quick and too deep. Our civilization could not withstand so great a Change. We fell - squabbling amongst ourselves for the ruins of our once-great cities.
We fought. We fought as we always had. We fought for our families, for our countries, for ourselves.
But it was not enough. The Change was too great.
We fled the surface with the wild New Laws that wracked it. We were many but our tools and our ways were broken. We fled downwards from the surface - into great caverns carved by forgotten ways, the last redoubts of our ancient forebearers. And slowly - one by one - those caverns fell silent until only the Great Cavern remained. Our Cavern. Our home.
We grew strong once more, fed on the ancient tales of our once-great people. We accepted those of our people who wandered into our caves with open arms, leaving past grudges behind and learning what we could of the lands forever locked away from us. We grew numerous once more and enlarged our homes. We learned of the New Science and how to tame the numerous Elements. We felt great once more.
But the Law remains. None may leave. None may test the strength of the surface world and the Children Races that now populate it. None. And for a hundred thousand centuries, that Law has remained unbroken - by force, by ennui, by will.
Until now.
