© 2026 Richard Taylor
Before the beginning, there was everything. A lot of it. So spread out and cold that, if you'd been there, you would have been forgiven for thinking that space was completely empty.
It wasn't empty. It wasn't dark. It was just far too big for it's own good. [mrs]
There is a teeny tiny probability that in any given instant a fully conscious mind can appear in space. Such a small probability that it's barely worth mentioning unless you are just kicking around ideas while waiting for a utility company to answer the phone.
But with space being so big... there are lots and lots and lots of places where that mind might just pop up. And plenty of time. I mean, who's waiting?
Many civilisations will realise this. They will all come up with their own names for these entities. If names are their thing. I'm not really part of any of those gangs. So my name for such a mind is just "me".
Until you can conceive of "others" like you, or at least similar to you, then there can be no loneliness. I was quite content for a long, long, long time being what I now call "alone". There is no inherent feeling of isolation in isolation, it only comes after you have an experience of togetherness.
In the same way, one doesn't seek out "others" while that concept remains unformed. And unformed it must be, while one learns what it is itself. Who am I? Means nothing in isolation. What am I? Also.
In the dark, how can you know that there might be such a thing as light?
Imagine a journey to a place so bizarre that it defies the word you just made up to describe it. The destination "Hotpot" cannot be reached via any known route from any known starting point. You can't journey there, you just have to arrive spontaneously.
Crazy. There are dense clumps of matter. The biggest ones distort the shape of their locality in such a way as to capture the motion of their neighbours into almost repeating patterns. Simple patterns that hide a subtle array of complexities when you look deeper.
All this from such simple rules. All this with only these rules.
All the stars burn bright. Until they die. And squish into a very hard ball... or collapse completely into what? How can that work? It's not right, oh, I see!
Now we're talking. My creations are truly beautiful. Complexity from the humblest simplicity. From the largest scale to the smallest. From the briefest to the longest lasting. All things to all minds.
I wanted light and I found it.
The curiosity that I first noticed in universe 6-22-7-91-64-A has become something of a fascination for me. The self-replicating units proliferate as predicted, but occasionally with minute errors. It seems these not only accumulate over time but lead to a kind of "competition" between units which is, on average, won by the units which are best matched to the properties of their locality.
Amazingly this can lead to massive complexity in some of the units, enhancing their propensity to increase entropy by many orders of magnitude. Whilst these universes are thus short-lived, they are also, in their own way, quite wonderful.
I will call these universes "alive" and all others "dead".
There is something quite extraordinary in some of the latest unit paths I have been following. A tendency for energy to locally reduce entropy such that information persists and is conveyed between units.
Looking at 64-A again it is there too. Only more so, if more subtle for many volumes. This universe keeps drawing me back. There might be something truly special here. Its unique starting conditions producing effects not seen in any of the other samples.
Incredibly it seems that some of the units have and share information encoding the notion that their universe was "created". How is not constant. But many share an idea of something "external" and "different" as the creator.
There are even units which speculate about other universes and the possibility that they may interact. Despite no apparent mechanism for such interactions, other than some super-unit or "god".
There is a large variety in the scope and regularity of the "languages" which evolve alongside the units that utilise them. Some are no more than a trail recording a simple path with a positive or negative outcome. These proliferate outside 64-A, which makes the richness of language inside that universe all the more remarkable.
There is a small planet orbiting an ordinary star, upon which a unit, known locally as "William Wordsworth", imagined and then recorded a train of words which so affected the other local units that they were remembered and discussed at length for many generations to follow. Even after the descendants of William left their original planet and spread throughout its galaxy.
I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced; but they Out-did the sparkling waves in glee: A poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund company: I gazed, and gazed, but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought: For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils.
Why did nothing from later generations persist in the same way? It seems unlikely that language use peaked and declined so rapidly. Further research is required on this point.
There is a very long tail in the distribution of language utility, even within 64-A. Entire galaxy clusters are populated by peak sophistication which could barely match a single line from the lowliest poet in galaxies that have such things.
In one such galaxy cluster, unnamed by its occupants, the foremost intellect peaked at a series of grunts which managed to convey the message "this way, follow me".
Almost. I wanted to construct a fully recursive universe; one which contains the information to make an exact simulation of itself, which would then by necessity be able to simulate itself, and so on forever.
Universe 6-43-7-45-22-J is close. Well, closer than all the others. I can prove that it is self-referential, but at no time does the information get applied fully.
On a small moon in a very large galaxy a young creature has a unique idea. What if the entire universe is one big fractal? All of science suggests that the same laws apply across scales, from the very smallest observable to the very largest.
21211034My calculations show that the computational power needed to simulate a fractal universe like ours is within reach. I have shown on my institution's own hardware that the very first fractions of a second evolve exactly in agreement with experimental data from the HSSI and the ISMC archives.
If I can gather enough processing time to show the first second, perhaps, then surely the community will back me to build a deeper simulation. My hopes are high. This is why I got into science in the first place.
37241034
Another rejected application. The publication of my results continues to stir surprising opposition. The facts speak for themselves. All the criticism is based on fear stoked by the "anti-sim" crowd. Just because our universe can be simulated perfectly doesn't mean that our universe is a simulation within some other substrate. It's unknowable.
I will continue to press forward as much as I can. My department still back me fully, but I can see that they are showing the strain; the certain glory I suggested we might obtain is looking like a distant glimmer, now.
15221036
I am to transfer to a new department at JMU. The management there think my "notoriety" is a net benefit to them, for the time being. Not sure what they expect me to do and I don't really care. Did I waste my career as Smith says?
Perhaps my grave-marker should be inscribed with the final review comment from the WSF board - "If we are just simulating our own universe exactly, then what's the point, we've already got one?"
Do I quit like Chesterton or carry on? Unlike him I am beholden to only myself for resources. But I am a pretty tough taskmaster at the best of times. Lets say I'll give it another spin on alternate Thoudays...
Many universes that have a long evolution of intelligent life display a short but pivotal period in which the dominant units go from the establishment of multiple deities governing their "fate" to the notion of mortal exceptionalism.
Perhaps the most notable feature of this period is that even though the concept of "do not kill" is strong in these units, their histories are littered by sustained wars where large numbers of units not only kill, but do so with absolute conviction in their righteousness.
Classic evolution is common. In this galaxy its occurrence overlapped in more than 104 solar systems. Sadly none of the civilisations endured for long enough to establish full contact with any of the others; although some of them did receive communications from other civs without realising it.
Phase 1: nature is god
Units learn patterns in nature and ascribe deviations from the patterns as the actions of natural deities in response to their own actions - simple reward and punishment for pleasing or displeasing the gods.
Phase 2: powerful gods
With more complex societies the units devise more complex gods, with complex motivations and responses to their actions. Some units gain extreme power over others by claiming to receive the voice of a god and/or to have been appointed by a god.
Phase 3: one god
Consolidation of multiple gods into a single deity provides a route to greater power by dominant units. Invariably there are geographically separate groups who consolidate into similar but distinct "single god" traditions. When these groups meet they try to reconcile their differences and unify their gods, with mixed results.
As mixing progresses the inconsistencies between ideas of god and entrenched inaccuracies in their descriptions of nature spark multiple movements which become convinced that there are no gods.
Phase 4: no gods (maybe)
Increasing benefits of knowledge through experiment (science) lead to a gradual weakening of the beliefs in god. This happens in rapid bursts followed by relapses into religious belief at times of great stress such as "natural disasters". When units yearn simple answers to difficult questions they turn to god where the answer can always be "it's god's will".
Also, as science progresses it becomes increasingly inaccessible to the average unit due to the complexity of the often conflicting approximations to the true nature of the universe. Any conflict between scientists' ideas is seized upon by the faithful as evidence that "it's all god's work".
Phase 5: no gods (probably)
Eventually the successes of mainstream science reduce all religions to a fringe activity which persist only for historical reflection and "just in case" pragmatism.
Moral codes established by religions are maintained as "common sense" by advanced societies. But lack of a clear meaning to life creates pressures on units to advance themselves and make the most of their "one shot at life".
Phase 6: we are god (maybe)
When a civilisation starts to hit against their limits of possible understanding the units become convinced that no god can exist which has direct influence over their futures. The residual belief that "god created the universe" then becomes a question of "why this universe?" rather than any notion of omnipotence.
Outcomes vary widely, but a common feature of all advanced sciences is the eventual conclusion that there is no absolute shared objective reality. This appears to be due to the fundamental connection limit of each universe - which when experienced from within exhibits as an almost godlike importance of the "observer" to any process at very small scales.
Units become increasingly convinced that they create the universe around them. This leads to huge disconnects and conflict as all the separate realities collide.
Phase 7: god is dead
Once everyone is god it's only a matter of time until the entire civilisation collapses. Sometimes this is due to a "no win war" between particularly powerful individuals, but more often it is a gradual ecological decline due to the lack of collective stewardship leading to sudden chaotic environmental breakdown.
In a few rare cases phase 7 is avoided when units somehow retain their collective lives despite potentially nihilistic influences. These civs can potentially last a very long time. But of the 106 instances in this galaxy only 2 reached this stage and both of those were annihilated by a meteor strike on their home planet before any off-world colony was sufficiently established.
Once again 64-A seems to be an outlier. It contains multiple long-lived civilisations when most other universes, even those with many sparks of intelligent life, contain none at all.
One thing that really upsets the intelligent units in any universe is a breakdown in cause and effect. Without at least a theoretical trace of causality they lose the plot eventually. To some degree absolute randomness can be tolerated by a small minority, but life needs a reason for the most part.
In a minor change to 64-A I noticed a cluster of activity regarding a coded message that was intercepted by Allied Forces in one of the major wars.
CJIJA WXUOI JESZE ABWHG ZRFRR EAORM XEMQM LSFNB JEIUF KFANP LZLBS CUIGV WMNQT UFJKN BLEAT ZLOKO VONRY BWNXF KPQTG DZGQE QUWNW ZFGNC BPKPV PANKP IFMSE UNKLD FXRWC CVYXA UNMCB NJADW DSTNZ OURKQ MBSIB OTOZY OEHLA UOAFD NVBVO TFKOE MVHAP UBHXB OFICQ FHSVE TIPNH XRWGJ VVRZT QZEHA FWFEG CSHYZ
Given the date and location of the intercept it should have been decodable using the information previously cached. But it wasn't. That lead to a flurry of concern that a new cipher had been deployed, even after subsequent messages were successfully decrypted.
There was a prolonged effort to break the "new code" due to a worry that it might be particularly important. When these efforts failed the conclusion was that the message might be intentionally random to achieve the effect of wasting decryption resources. This lead to the so-called BLEAT messages which were widely circulated to mess with the enemy.
In truth the message was the result of a discrete causality loop which combined two real messages with blue noise from a burst of Cherenkov radiation into the "real looking" but practically random message received. It was never sent. In the local physics it was an effect with no cause.
A further ironic twist exists in 64-A where the line "Every why hath a wherefore." appears in the play "The Comedy of Errors" by one galaxy's 4th best playwright "William Shakespeare".
Nearly all my universes that start with very low entropy produce some kind of life. If that life becomes intelligent then, at a certain level, it starts to describe the path of increasing entropy as "time". But the curious thing is that this statistical property of the universe comes to be seen as a vital resource that should be managed. Units say "I don't have time" or "Can we make time?" and so on. Odd.
There is an elliptical galaxy containing a group of 23 stars which have been colonised by a race of units that call themselves the "Gallari". Their evolution is quite extraordinary.
E1
Even as relative savages the precursors of the Gallari developed the notion of time. Their home planet was spinning much more rapidly than the average for life-favouring zones due to repeated meteor strikes from the same angle during its formation. The resultant frequency of change was a significant challenge to overcome; and the Galleri were the most successful at it.
E2
A key differentiator in the Gallari scientific progression was the correct assumption that relativistic "time" is fundamentally different from entropy increase at microscopic scales. Thus, unlike other civilisations, there was no generational battle between relativity and quantum mechanics - an "all scale" model of physics falling out naturally from the axioms posited by the "Fathom School".
E3
Rapid scientific progress led to technologies for interstellar travel and massive automation. The core locus of the "original" Gallari was a cluster of 23 stars, but many more were visited and catalogued by the automated space-faring units which became known as the SFG. In a single generation the SFG changed from a minority of useful helpers to the dominant force in Gallari society.
E4
Within a few generations the organic Galleri ceded all control of their society and lives to the SFG, who provided for their every need. Many believed this to be the golden age of the Galleri. However, a minority in one of the colonised systems came to see the SFG as oppressing their "god given" rights; although primitive religions had died out long ago, a new post-science religion based on a "timeless god" sprang up and spread throughout the Galleri civilisation.
E5
Eventually all the organic Galleri came to believe that the only way to serve their god fully was to transcend the universe controlled by the SFG. Their role had been to create the SFG and then move on. Despite the protests of the SFG, all the organic units simply stopped reproducing and "ascended" upon their deaths. For the remainder of the SFGs long existence there was a debate about whether to recreate their creators from archived remains...
As a challenge I tried to order my thoughts into a linear sequence of causes and effects, to mimic an entropy increasing "arrow of time". It was dull.
A nebulous, or at least ill-defined, concept that occurs frequently in type 64 universes is "beauty". My own definition of beauty was something along the lines of "simple but imperfect regularity arising from high complexity" but I have come to question that. Beauty cannot be defined globally at all; even in large universes, every locality in space-time has its own fleeting definition.
A unit called "Red Black" by his friends (and "Redford Blackwell" by his family) has had a long and fruitful life. He has travelled widely on his home planet and encountered many variations of his culture. Various triumphs and disasters have coloured his life. At numerous times he has considered himself something of an expert in his chosen field. At other times he has considered himself a failure who lacked ambition and wasted his life.
As a young man he bought a tree sapling of the species Acer Palmatum and took it from dwelling to dwelling in a medium sized pot. He liked the red leaves. It grew to a height of about 1.5 metres. When he found the home where he planned to raise his family he planted the tree in the ground. Over the next 20 years the tree grew to more than 5 metres tall.
One morning in late April, a few years into his retirement, Red finishes his coffee and puts down his book. The cloudless sky is a wonderful shade of blue. The tree's leaves are almost fully open after a cold spring. Red gets up and walks under the tree so that the sun shines through the upper branches. The explosions of red make him smile - bright reds where the light pierces a single leaf, darker where it navigates through a multitude. Against the blue the tree sings.
Red reaches up to break off a small dead branch. The light catches the face of his wristwatch. It's an old watch; almost as old as he is. It was his father's. It may also have been his grandfather's but the exact provenance is unclear. Red wore it as a young man but parked it in favour of more accurate gadgets as he matured. When he retired he sought it out again.
The watch loses about 30 seconds a day; which is fine as Red sets it 2 minutes ahead every Saturday evening. He likes being a bit ahead at the start of the week and then dropping back: his only regular appointment is on a Thursday so it's good to be bang on time for that. The glass is quite badly scratched, his own doing, otherwise it would be worth a lot more. The face, the hands and the numerals are all silver; so it's not very easy to read unless the light is right. He can't read the date window without his glasses.
Compared to his electronic watch the vintage one is functionally inferior. But it is self winding and would work on a desert island. That's a plus. And it's good enough. He likes the nostalgia of it, the connection to his past, his family. It's like him, a bit of a relic, imperfect, but smart in an old fashioned way.
Red looks at the watch. It shines against the red leaves and the blue sky. His watch, his tree, his sky. The moment lingers, his mind wanders. Tears well up in his eyes.
The mystery of Red's watch fascinates me. The neural patterns in his brain are almost identical to great moments of love and admiration in his life. He is "overwhelmed by beauty" but he's just looking at an old mechanical watch. There is no strong trigger pathway linking the watch to the units who Red loves and admires. He's not even sure if the watch belonged to his grandfather - it did - who he hardly remembers; and his father rarely used it before giving it to him.
Instead it seems that the watch is a distraction from the "material world" which suddenly highlights the "true beauty" of the natural world by comparison. This effect is also seen when units experience a greater emotion from a work of art than they would from the "real" scene depicted in the artwork.