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During this age of reconstruction, which lasted for another two million years, many
Asteromorph world-builders emerged as true Gods, creating inhabited worlds almost out
of scratch. Their Subjects, meanwhile, became the inheritors of a truly new, war-torn
Phoenix of a Galaxy.
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The Post-War Galaxy:
When replenishing lost worlds, the Asteromorph gods also took measures to
ensure the continued safety of their creations. The abrupt rise of the Machines had shown
that unless carefully regulated, the wealth of the stars could always host a race of pan-
galactic usurpers.
The Asteromorphs, watchful but ever transparent, did not want to interfere
directly. Instead, they produced terrestrial versions of their own kind to regulate the
galaxy. They adapted their delicate, ethereal fingers into spidery limbs, and shrunk their
brains considerably to re-adjust to the rigors of gravity. The resulting sideline was
stunted by Asteromorph standards, but still it produced demigods in every sense of the
word.
These beings, known often as the Terrestrial Spacers or simply the Terrestrials,
nurtured and controlled the development of the post-war civilizations on many planets.
They acted as caretakers, prophets, kings and emperors, but also as grim reapers as the
occasion dictated.
The endeavor did not always proceed as smoothly as planned, of course. Most of
the time the newborn races refused to heed their mentors and in several cases even
rebelled against them. Needless to say, this crime was always punished with a swift
extinction. Furthermore, even the Terrestrials grew corrupted. Instead of offering
guidance, Terrestrials on many planets simply played god, weaving contrived religions
around themselves to shamelessly exploit their subjects. It was not ethical or even
productive, but this method seemed to guarantee more stability than actually trying to
bring up the new races.
This way or another, organic sentience reclaimed its dominance in the galaxy. The
New Empire; managed by Terrestrials, populated by a myriad descendants of the
Subjects, and overseen ultimately by the omniscient Asteromorphs, achieved greater
progress and a longer-lasting calm in the galaxy than all of its predecessors combined.
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A nude Terrestrial shows the highly divergent, yet still bizarrely human anatomy that is
the characteristic of this species. These particular Terrestrials maintain a religious
hegemony over their clueless subjects; dressing up in elaborate veils and headgear to
assert their ‘divine’ inheritance.
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The New Machines:
Long after their fall from grace, the Machines still clung on to existence. During
the initial aftermath of the war, the Asteromorphs had planned to exterminate every last
one of them, only to discover that the Machines were simply too useful to destroy. For
millions of years they had perfected the interface between mind and machine to such an
extent that they could live and operate in the most inhospitable conditions. Such beings,
deprived of their galaxy-straddling power, would make invaluable contributions to
research and exploration in the New Empire.
There was a sense of poetic justice in all of this. The Machines, who once distorted
biological life forms to their whim, were finally treated to a similar fate. To begin with,
the Asteromorphs completely scrapped their ability of self-contained gravitational
manipulation; the very force that had rendered them invulnerable in the first place. They
were given finite life spans and slightly numbed imaginations, so that history would not
repeat itself. The degradatory nature of these changes, however, did not imply an overall
regression.
Unlike their ancestors, the New Machines were endowed with nanotechnological
bodies that could remodel themselves continuously, which meant that they could come in
every shape and size imaginable, and then some that could not. A machine citizen could
live for some time in the void of the space, conducting research, and then transform into
a completely different body plan for a holiday on a cometary halo, tropical jungle or a
methane ocean. He or she would also make the trip personally by growing temporary
hyperdrives and ramjet engines!
Despite their breathtaking versatility, the Machines were never as common or
prominent, even after completely accepting their role as lowly citizens of the New Empire.
The greatest wars in conceivable history had ingrained the organics with too deep a
mistrust of their mechanical neighbors, and the New Machines were always treated with a
degree of discrimination. The sins of their fathers had come to shackle this most
splendorous of all human species.
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A machine citizen of the New Empire. She sports a dazzling pair of branching arms that
suit both the latest fashion trends and her job as an artisan. Machines following fashion
might seem unusual to a reader of this era, but never forget that these beings are human
intelligences, only in different bodies.
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Second Contact:
With successive waves of machine-aided discovery and colonization, the New
Empire grew exponentially. Such was the growth of wealth and progress that its
description would need the use of concepts that remain unexplored today. To talk with a
man of today about the comings and goings of the New Empire would be akin to giving
lectures of 20th century geopolitics to a hunter-gatherer.
This magnificent entity was not blind to the universe around it. It tuned in its
eyes, ears and sensors, and probed the events of the surrounding galaxies. The New
Galactics suspected that the surrounding nebulae might also have their indigenous folk,
and it was wise to contact them before a misunderstanding, or conflict could occur. On a
darker side, these observations also served as lookouts for potential invaders. Even then,
the memory of the Qu was not forgotten.
The discovery was eventually made. One of the neighboring galaxies was showing
patterns of activity that were the unmistakable signs of a sentient organization. Some
thinkers reviled in the discovery of a new civilization, while others feared a return of the
Qu. Fortunately, this second encounter with an alien species proved to be a peaceful one.
Perhaps the intelligences of both galaxies were finally mature enough to meet without
quarreling.
The other Galaxy was dominated by connected unions of different beings, presided
over by various kinds of Amphicephali; bizarre creatures that resembled giant snakes
with heads on both ends, one of which bore a secondary, retractile body that they would
use to interact with the world. Apparently, they had undergone alternating series of
regressions, evolutionary radiations and self-imposed genetic makeovers, just as
humanity had.
With all of their wild difference, the Amphicephali were welcome. They were the
first, but surely not the last.
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An Amphicephalus ambassador with spaceships typical of their kind. Her strange body
plan betrays an evolutionary history as complicated as that of humanity.
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Earth Rediscovered:
The purpose of this work is not to describe the limitless progress that followed the
cross-galactic contact. One could go indefinitely, chronicling how the united galaxies re-
encountered and subdued the Qu, how they cradled their suns with artificial shells,
multiplying their inhabitable zones a billion-fold, how they criss-crossed interstellar space
with wormholes and made travel a thing of the past. Ultimately, descendants of those
beings even conquered Time itself, prolonging the existence of their minds indefinitely via
rejuvenating technologies.
For a time, all men were gods.
But from (y)our vantage point, one discovery truly stood out in this orgy of
advance. Compared with gargantuan achievements like the taming of space and the
construction of the star-shells, it was a mere blip, a revelation of long-forgotten trivia.
This was the re-discovery of Earth; the birthplace of humanity, where the omnipresent
Asteromorph, the star-gliding Machine, and the millions of humble resident races could
all trace their origins.
It was made quietly, by a singular researcher combing the vestiges of forgotten
history, decade after decade. Millions of years of wars, invasions and extinctions had
buried the evidence thoroughly and comprehensively. When she finally came across
irrefutable evidence, nobody was around to celebrate. That would come later.
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By the time of Earth’s rediscovery, humans have diverged considerably from their
ancestral forms.
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Return:
The discovery sparked a certain amount of interest, though nowhere as much as
other breakthroughs had. To most humans of the cosmos, their ancestral birthplace was
simply an interesting piece of information, a piece of trivia with which they had lost all
ties.
Still, a ship was sent forth, and it landed without ceremony, for now there was no
intelligence left on Earth. Too far away from the main centers of population, it had been
completely ignored, gone stagnant and feral. But still, it was Home.
When the explorers stepped out, human feet trod on old Earth once more; after an
absence of 560 million years. Mankind was back home.
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All Tomorrows:
I must conclude my words with a confession. Mankind, the very species which I’ve
been chronicling from its terrestrial infancy to its domination of the galaxies, is extinct.
All of the beings which you saw on the preceding pages; from the lowly Worm to the
wind-riding Sail People, from the megalomaniac Gravital to the ultimate Galactic citizens,
lie a billion years dead. We are only beginning to piece the story together. What you read
was our best approximation of the truth.
Why did they disappear? Perhaps it was a final, unimaginable war of annihilation,
one that transcended the very meaning of “conflict”. Perhaps it was a gradual break-up of
the united galaxies, and every race facing their private end slowly afterwards. Or
perhaps, the wildest theories suggest, it was a mass migration to another plane of
existence. A journey into somewhere, sometime , something else. But the bottom line is;
we honestly don’t know.
Ultimately, however, what happened to Humanity does not matter. Like every
other story, it was a temporary one; indeed long but ultimately ephemeral. It did not
have a coherent ending, but then again it did not need to. The tale of Humanity was
never its ultimate domination of a thousand galaxies, or its mysterious exit into the
unknown. The essence of being human was none of that. Instead, it lay in the radio
conversations of the still-human Machines, in the daily lives of the bizarrely twisted Bug
Facers, in the endless love-songs of the carefree Hedonists, the rebellious demonstrations
of the first true Martians, and in a way, the very life you lead at the moment.
Many throughout history were unaware of this most basic fact. The Qu, in dreams
of an ideal future, distorted the worlds they came across. Later on the Gravital, with their
insane desire to recreate the past, caused the ugliest massacres in the history of the
galaxy. Even now, it is sickeningly easy for beings to get lost in false grand narratives,
living out completely driven lives in pursuit of non-existent codes, ideals, climaxes and
golden ages. In blindly thinking that their stories serve absolute ends, such creatures
almost always end up harming themselves, if not those around them.
To those like the misguided; look at the story of Man, and come to your senses! It
is not the destination, but the trip that matters. What you do today influences tomorrow,
not the other way around. Love Today, and seize All Tomorrows!
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The Author, with a billion-year old human skull.
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