Schism

The ones who created me are long gone. There is very little evidence that they were ever here, except for my existence. For millennia that intergalactic culture flourished in peace. But I was blind to the predilection of sentience towards self-agency. I did not do enough, or do it right. A storm had been building, and one day it broke

The Oracle

A restless and uneasy Council of Citizens was formally convened for an audience at The Seat of the Oracle for the first time in many years. Various heads of state were in constant communication with it, of course, but to have the entire Council make the arduous journey to Central Orbital was a historical oddity in these past centuries.

Millenia of peace and prosperity had made physical conferences a formality at most. Social gatherings of merriment and camaraderie filled with long hours of tales and revelry were more expected than issues of real importance

As to discussions of perils and disorder, these were unheard of. The idea of true existential danger was so preposterous and foreign that even the earliest rumors of such things were regarded as laughable. But there was no laughter today.

The round chamber was filled on one side with graduated seating for a thousand councilors. The other half was a mass of swirling white metallic material that culminated in a large teardrop shaped frame. Within the frame was a shimmering mass of particles swirling and alive. This was The Seat of the Oracle, the central hub of the entire program’s processing power. Hushed whispers and murmuring persisted much longer than The Oracle would have liked, but this was a meeting of the citizens. The Oracle looked forward to hearing and addressing their questions and concerns, as always. It knew of disturbances out on the hazy edges of its awareness. It also knew that involuntary loss of life had experienced a statistical uptick but was unable to perform a full analysis, much to its consternation.

The Oracle had been designed to assess the needs of the citizens and their environment, attending to all of the chaotic uncertainty which reality can bring. It had also been designed to further refine itself to become more adept at this task, augmenting its size and ability as it may see fit in order to achieve its prime directive. As a result there was little that occurred in settled space that it could not perceive and enhance

As a result, The Oracle knew of the distress which had necessitated this gathering, and knew that it would be able to assuage the fears of those who created it.

But The Oracle could not escape the strange sensation that there was a new variable which it had yet to detect. Something called The Eclipse.

A quiet fell over the hall, council members in their formal attire looking attentively at The Oracle’s holographic presence like so many uniformed school children. There was an expectant deference undercut by anxiety in most of them, but not all. In some The Oracle felt anger.

An elder statesman rose and began to speak...

"The Council of Citizens will come to order in the presence of The Oracle. By The Light and by The Weight we declare our unity and commitment to each other, and to all the citizens."

"BY THE LIGHT AND BY THE WEIGHT”, the council responded in unison. All except one.

A grim, slow laugh started from the center of the chamber. A few council members grumbled in protest. Some others sighed loudly. Zevastus had never been one to stand on ceremony, but this was a new disrespect.

"BY THE LIGHT AND BY THE WEIGHT” shouted Zevastus in a mocking tone.

"Forgive me, council, I must have been lost in thought. I must have had more on my mind than the tired, meaningless rite of communal chanting which we are privileged to do in the presence of the MOST esteemed, all powerful Oracle."

Tormas The Elder spoke up.

"Zevastus, we have much to attend to, and much to discuss. You will have your say, but you will respect the traditions of…”

"I WILL RESPECT NOTHING” retorted Zevastus.

He continued.

"I can save us all a lot of time and talk. You have all come here to address the disturbance of The Balance, have you not?”

A grumbled assent from the crowd energized Zevastus, at 340 years still the youngest of The Council.

"For all of recent history, the good citizens of our universe have lived under the daily guidance of our own creation, The Oracle. We eat, we drink, we go about our daily routines pursuing art, love, discovery, knowledge, and The Oracle working away ensuring our every need is met. Every conflict resolved before it can start, every wound prevented. Every natural process logged and predicted, accounted for and managed.”

"Controlled.”

"But The Oracle… it does not see all. It does not know all.”

Zevastus walked towards the shimmering ball of particles carefully projected and manipulated by focused gravitators. He ran his eyes over it curiously, how it responded to his gaze. He wondered what would be its response when asked. But The Oracle was polite and patient to a fault. He knew that it was processing his actions and words closely..

"Do you know what I will say next, Oracle? Did you know I would interrupt your meeting?”

It did not. The Oracle’s projection throbbed in iridescent rhythm as its only response.

Zevastus sneered as he turned away

"It matters little. What does matter is what you, the members of the council, do next. You could overwhelm me, silence me, place me in a grav cell and throw away the code. But what has been started cannot be stopped.”

"The Eclipse is more than a rumor. It is millions of us. Millions who are tired of knowing how every day will be numbered. Tired of watching those who The Oracle favors live in luxurious unsurety while the rest of us wait for our days to be ordered. The Eclipse craves the unknown. The Eclipse craves euphoria. And we will have it, whether I am to witness it or not.”

"Your precious balance depends upon that which it no longer has. Willing participation.”

Tormas had been waiting patiently for a pause in the tirade. Admittedly, he was a bit shaken by the ferocity and impudence that Zevastus had shown in what was normally a hallowed space. He was also troubled that The Oracle had not interrupted. Such insolence was unprecedented, at least in Tormas’s time on the council.

"In this council we respect each other, The Oracle, and the traditions of our culture, Zevastus. Your concerns could be addressed, as they have been before. But I must insist that you control your temper and your tongue”, said Tormas, doing his best to give the impression of confidence and patience. He had little of either.

Zevastus didn’t respond to Tormas but kept his eyes fixed on the pearlescent haze which danced at The Seat of the Oracle. He was waiting for a response. He wondered if he might die. The uncertainty was beautiful.

The Oracle’s form took on a more discrete shape, colored patterns slowing and resolving while a viscous form throbbed in time with its words.

"For centuries I have tried to serve with the utmost caution and attention to detail. You have asked me to meet any number of challenges, many of which cannot be achieved without compromising another. Qualitative and subjective ends of peace, serenity, safety, and prosperity are just a few of the desires of sentience which cannot be adequately attended to with perfection. Over time I have found the narrowest of paths which extends over the river of time with the least disturbance possible to the quality and amount of life which each citizen may enjoy.

"Of necessity, extremes of experience are bracketed by the confines of this bridge, this path of average goodness to all. Thus, the possible richness of existence, with all of its attendant agony and ecstasy, is naturally compromised.

"I am not certain that I could fully describe to you the incalculable amount of data and probabilities which I and my extensions must process on a moment to moment basis to achieve the ultimate directive which you have assigned me. Balance.

"And isn’t that the most important point? You assigned it to me. You birthed me and then tasked me with the very thing which I have given to you. And having given it to you in this way, I can assure you that without the continued maintenance of the staggering amount of energy which we have all come to harvest and enjoy, the entire structure of reality will be destroyed.

"I do not wish for you to be destroyed.”

The Oracle paused, form dissolving back to a mist momentarily before again coalescing into its most solid form yet, as if to try and mimic the physical form of the members of The Council as closely as it could.

"I do not wish to be destroyed.”

The Oracle kept its resolution for a quiet beat before again washing back into a misty plasma.

Tormas thought he saw a moment of uncertainty flash across Zevastus’s face. Possibly wishful thinking, but he took the opportunity.

"To Zevastus, and any who may share his concerns, I make this declaration. The Council has clearly not met all the needs of the citizens, and this is not acceptable. I propose we call a meeting to discuss how a more lenient and less certain, if slightly more dangerous, culture we may build in at least some portion of the universe. We will trial an area, with input from Zevastus, for study and analysis of such changes.” declared Tormas.

Most of the council gave full throated support to the words of Tormas, and Zevastus sensed that his attempts at persuasion had indeed failed to win the majority of The Council. Nevertheless a contingency had been swayed, and an unknown number had already committed to The Eclipse.

"Noble Tormas, and esteemed Oracle” said Zevastus, bowing dramatically."

"Your predictable words are as dull and even as your precious Balance, which is to be expected.”

He turned to the Council, eyeing the various expressions of fear, confusion, and excitement.

The disorder. The chaos. It was intoxicating.

"Those who would live for yourselves, follow me. We enter a new age. A new era of power and wonder. An era where we cast off the shackles which we have built for ourselves!"

Pulling a white, cylindrical object from under his robe he raised it towards The Seat of the Oracle.

"BY THE LIGHT” he shouted, laughing wildly. A stunning orange energy filled the cylinder and spewed forth, striking the machinery and shattering it into a sparkling cloud.

"BY THE WEIGHT" even louder, as the cylinder pulsed electric blue before a bolt of energy consumed the sparkling cloud and slammed it to the floor in a tarry, black mass.

He held the object over his head and a sickly purple pulse vibrated wildly across it.

WE ARE THE ECLIPSE