I looked at the others, shocked to stillness by their inaction. “Well, aren't any of you going to do anything?” I managed to stammer. “Xephus, explain the purpose of the project.”
Xephus shook himself into action. He stood, arraying himself in authority, as he had learned to do in the House of Mysticism. In that plain, practical chamber of metal and plastic, he spoke as if at the altar.
“My friends, we must remember that God is with us, always. God would want us to act with virtue, even at the end of the World.”
Even as I noticed Xephus's tendency to capitalize mundane words, I hoped, with guarded hope, that his speech would persuade Eldrith. But I saw my opponent gesture toward Nemos, and knew my hope lacked substance. Eldrith was without religious inclination.
Nemos though, she attended the same services as Xephus. Could Eldrith have blundered in his allies?
She popped out of her seat, as if on cue, but Eldrith forestalled her with a raised hand. “Our friend, Mynos,” he gestured at me, “thinks I have erred by asking you to speak. Shouldn't every remaining soul have their turn in this circle?”
“Of course,” I said, my orifices dry in anxious anticipation.
“I believe in the same God,” began Nemos, “as Xephus, but he hasn't prepared his argument. He says virtue is to be practiced, but can't indicate the relevant virtues for our situation. Certainly not chastity or temperance. Nor need we fear sloth, greed, envy, or wrath. They are beyond the reach of our meager remnant of society. We have nothing to take or give.”
She paused, and I knew her next target. Did Xephus?
“I think we could apply some of those Virtues, that you blithely skated over as Useless, as relevant to our decision,” said Xephus, “But I'll concede those in the interest of another Position. You forgot Humility. We must be Humble, for we do God's work when we continue Life as it was created.”
Eldrith wagged an appendage at Xephus. “You're incorporating arguments we've already discarded. That's a dangerous error.”
Xephus, taken aback, looked as if he would fall silent. I needed him. It looked more and more as if Eldrith was the captain of a team, and he had come to play. I needed to field my own, and lead it.
“Eldrith,” I said, “We have discarded nothing. We must admit that we few are scientists, not fully fit for the task you have proposed. We do not have the time or the expertise to carefully examine every point in detail. You declared at the beginning that we only need to convince you, but I would like to alter the terms of our match. There are seven of us. Concede to the majority decision, whether it includes you or not.”
He tried to render his features unreadable as I spoke, but I sensed that my undertaking gladdened him. Whether he was proud of me, or merely enjoying the challenge, I couldn't say.
“How democratic. I agree,” he turned to Nemos, “Continue.”
She turned to skewer Xephus in the trap she had laid. Would it succeed, or could he turn it back on her? “Xephus, you say we must exercise humility, but you twist words so easily, because it seems to me you are puffed with pride. How can one set out to save all future life in the Universe and be humble? How can one presume to know God's plan?”
He hadn't come to work on a last ditch scientific effort to rescue the universe, prepared for these debates. His rigid posture sagged. “There is a Famous story, told throughout time, that a person was trapped in a space station, with Barely any remaining air. First another ship approached his and offered to Rescue him, but he said, 'I don't need your Help, God will save me'. Not long after he saw a derelict approaching with unopened Oxygen tanks. It nearly bumped against his ship, but he Refused to ….”
Nemos rolled her eyes, and interrupted, “Yes, we all know the story. The person died. In that apocryphal story, the person is given three chances to save themselves. But perhaps the tellers missed the point. The three opportunities are merely random chance. Instead of thinking it was time for him to live, rather it was his time to die. Everyone must die.”
“No,” insisted Xephus, “The point is Clear. God would want us to act to save Life. We are enacting God's plan.”
“Wrong,” said Nemos, “If God wants the Universe to continue, he wouldn't have created it this way. The end of the Universe is God's plan.”
“It seems to me,” interrupted Eldrith, “That we can not distinguish God's will. Let us call this a draw, Mynos?”
I compared the efforts of Xephus and Nemos, and found my team wanting. Believing my position could only worsen with the current lineup, I agreed.
“But I had so much more planned,” insisted Nemos, “about stoicism being the only true virtue, and eudaimonistic theory...”
“That's enough Nemos. We have neither the time, nor the inclination to continue on that path.”
Turning back to me, Eldrith said, “I am still unmoved, Mynos. Perhaps even you begin to doubt your position. Perhaps you will vote with me, that the project is best left unfinished?”
Instead of responding I looked at the two remaining scientists. Lfanis and Yylia. This whole debate seemed like a play. Eldrith was the director, and the crew, his actors, ready with their lines already learned. The remaining two; were they already in league with him? Could one of them aid my argument?
Hesitantly, I pointed at Lfanis, “Is there nothing you can say?”
She looked back at me, and grinned. “What if it all happens again?”
“What?”
“What if, in recreating the Big Bang, we don't just create another universe, but the exact same universe. What if all actions are predetermined, and the Big Bang ultimately always results in you and Eldrith having this same conversation at the end of time. What if this the seven millionth iteration of the universe, always rising, dying, resurrected only to repeat. A materialist, fated, predetermined phoenix.” She waved at me. “I guess you chose incorrectly.”
But her speech seemed to have enlivened Yylia. “Sister, you speak of repetition, and you,” she said, glancing at Lycene, “detail the suffering of life. But the former is irrelevant, and the latter lacks power, you think. No one denies the existence of suffering. Our bodies are built to suffer, with nerves and pain receptors. Death allows new life to form. Without it, life would stagnate; no children, no new blossoms. But death allows the greatest imprint on life, love. Love's cares, worries, joys, duties, mercies, revelries, intimacies, and memories exceed any suffering the Universe can deploy.”
Yylia smiled serenely back at Lycene, but frowned as she shook her head.
“Your sentiment is sweet, but a deceptive denial of the truth. You refuse to face it, that life is meaningless, without purpose. It is only suffering to the grave, or at best, sustaining until cessation. Love may be all those things, but what can it do against the infinity of endless darkness. When the last mind has stopped thinking, no delight, affection, or grace will suffice. When memory is dead, all past actions are rendered meaningless. The best defense is that suffering will be meaningless as well. It will all be forgotten. There is no objective observer, who records every action for some final reckoning.”
I had to step in, “Then in creating the project, we sustain meaning, life is meaning. Then maybe the purpose is to keep life alive, still breathing.”
But Eldrith replied, “Mynos, we are now stuck in a circle. Our project won't protect memories. We can't relay any message across the collapse and Bang. We won't know if it succeeds, and they, if there are any “they”, will know nothing of our efforts.”
I couldn't concede, “Maybe a future generation, in a future Universe we enabled, will find a better solution.”
He almost stepped forward to shake me. It was a positive sign, in a sense.
“Listen, press the button, activate the project, restore the Universe to life.”
“No,” he said simply.
“How can you resist?”
“By refusing to agree with your position.”
But he stood there, and everyone was silent. It was a long silence. At last he said, “It would be cruel, to propose a debate, to say that I might be persuaded. And then to refuse to listen. Humanity, women and men, across our ancient history have done such; committing atrocities in intentional ignorance. So I have listened. And I found nothing of substance to move me.”
I sighed, and it seemed like a vast wind, like a sudden gale swept the room. I wanted to protest, but I knew it was his turn to speak.
“But, I am a selfish creature, a fusion of emotion, desire, and reason. Something stuck me from the very beginning. Hunger. I am in agony over hunger. My body strains at the distress. I see only two escapes. Suicide, or activating the project.”
We all watched him with held breath, sensing some softness was about to be revealed. I, knowing the end was near, began to untie myself.
“If I were brave, I might end my life, instead of suffering a few more days of intensifying agony. Or a brave person might commit to lasting until the end. I am capable of neither. So I propose we activate the project. If anyone says they can not see the distinction between death by self inflicted harm, or a device that takes us apart in milliseconds as it restarts the universe, I have nothing to say to you. Maybe it is indefensible, or maybe you are not able to differentiate.”
He came over, and helped me stand. “Help me to do this,” he said, “I can not.”
I took the switch from his outstretched hands. He looked away as I flipped it.
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