Consequences

We should have listened to them.

The Ontologarchy of Minds sent an Agent to the Palace Imperialate. Tall, gleaming, and arrogant, it demanded we give up starflight. It seems that our stardrive, found only after centuries of research was illegal and unsafe.

The Agent refused to offer an alternative. "Distribution of technology to emergent cultures is illegal."

With colonies on 40 worlds, less than half of them self sufficient, we couldn't stop. "What do you plan to do if we continue using the drive?"

"Nothing." As if it were enough.

Sol was the first star to move off the main sequence unexpectedly. The thoughthives found the answer: our stardrive left scars in the fabric of spacetime. Scars where the gravitational constant was just slightly different. Change the equations, and you change the rules. The scars were the spawning ground of anentropic lifeforms.

The Imperium is dead, and all that is left of humanity is a few thousand habitats hastily modified for relativistic flight. Our former space is under quarantine, and when the Ontologarchy finds us, we are destroyed. As I scan the memory tapes of that meeting, I shake my head at our arrogance.

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