Singularity

A Story by Elyott

On a non-particular day to one particular being.

Singularity

By Elyott J Ryan

October 31st 2014

Far into the future at the end of the peak of human discovery, every question had been asked and every asked question had been solved.

There was no discovery.

There was no mystery.

There was no comedy.

People didn’t work.

People didn’t play.

People didn’t learn.

For every outcome of every decision ever to be a split second thought had already been determined.

People were born identically perfect without, gender, desire, or a point.

Their one and single purpose was to observe the universe. The council has long feared that without an intelligent species to witness the universe it would then quickly vanish, ceasing to exist. The answer to this was obviously solved, but ego.

So each person was assigned an identical lazy-boy recliner. Lazy-boy recliner technology had become far superior than what you may be use to, but unsurprisingly it still had the same old faded brown colour that your grandfather would have only given a slight grumble of slight dissatisfaction. You know that feeling right before you get to the top of a drop on a roller coaster, when you are floating, weightless? That is the feeling they manage to ensnare directly into the fabric of the chair. This technology was not without its difficulties; some moments were caught a moment too late. Instead of the weightless feeling they caught the feeling were all of the blood rushes to your feet and your neck suddenly becomes very obsolete. The occupant swiftly died of lack of blood to the brain. Progress.

Whom am I? Where is this narrator voice coming from? Why does his voice sound like Dumbledore? Well that one is easy because you imagined it that way, but all of the other answers are already found in the Archive of Archives. Yes, that is its actual name, consult it if you want to know why.

Newborns are placed in their chairs and then the archive is downloaded, uploaded and torrented into their brain. All three must be done in a specific ratio. This too was afflicted with its own tiny hiccups. The hiccups took the form of splattering brain matter across a grocery store. It was horrendous to clean up that produce department. The location choice had to do with a nephew of a scientist who knew a janitor who worked there Thursday and Friday nights, which worked perfect, because it didn’t interfere with the scientists bowling night. The Singularity Strikers. It is easier to change the day you give birth than to change your bowling time slot.

Bowling is obviously obsolete given that with all the known outcomes, only the winner ever wants to play.

People sit in their chairs merely looking around and observing the whole known universe in its entirety.

Conversation is pointless, which isn't much different from your time period.

Everyone knows how everyone else is already doing. Good.

Everyone is well aware of how the weather is doing at any point of time. Weatherly.

Everyone already knows how well your kid is doing. Non-existent.

Everyone still surprisingly wares a watch. It turns out there is no better answer to the watch. Everyone checks their watch periodically and without fail. This was just a formality since they always knew the exact time. They would sit in their chairs watching the universe until their wise old age of 4 years, 2 months, 21 days, 6 hours, 42 seconds, 87 milliseconds and 1 picosecond. The Council found that if you watched the universe for a single moment longer the observers eyes would get bored and remove themselves from their sockets.

On a particular day, one particular being at the particular age of 3 2/3 was sitting in its particular chair, when a single minuscule singularity opened in the fabric of space time that occupied the area three inches in front of its button nose.

Out of the singularity floated a single plastic yellow submarine shaped ice cube. It gently floated into its nose. It was cold and left a single drop of liquid as it bounced off before falling to the ground. The drop dripped off the tip of its nose into its mouth. Root beer.

Where did the ice cube come from? Why did it take the form of a submarine? Who chose to colour it yellow? Whose cup of root beer is now missing an ice cube and going to get warmer sooner than initially anticipated?

All of these questions floated through Emma’s head, yes Emma is her name she just decided. She had no answers to any of these questions.

Luck was on her side, it turns out there is a lot of universe to watch. Nobody at that exact moment was watching the piece of universe in which she was residing.

Emma picked up the submarine, left her chair and never looked back, metaphorically. Literally, she had to look back in the direction eventually.