I wish that I could tell you about everything that my wife saw and heard once we had reached the end of the journey we were on for three days into a new portion of the galaxy to meet with a new civilization. But if I did, my wife would have to kill both you and me, and I like my life.
When your wife is Admiral Vlarian Triefield, you already know you are going to know things you don't get to talk about, and she would tell you that since she is married to me, a commercial fleet magnate, there are things she can't talk about either.
The above, however, is half the point of the story in terms of humanity.
After passing through all the tests that were before us to get there, the place designated to be a meeting house was not as much of a surprise, which was a surprise in and of itself.
My wife, owing to her quarter of Vulcan heritage, was a limited telepath among a mass of limited telepaths – BILLIONS of them, according to her, who together had created an environment for us to pass through and share with them that was strikingly like our own, with some foreign elements mixed in … it was like walking through an analogy, with some tests to make sure we understood the material.
Still, I can't say I hated the process, or had a terrible impression of the culture that put it on … my wife and I worked together well and learned that we could rely on each other in truly difficult situations.
It was a surprise to come into a beautiful conference-style room in a building not too dissimilar to the meeting places of my European ancestors after all that, and even more of a surprise to meet a couple of humanoids not too dissimilar from us … at least, not on that occasion.
“We are not too dissimilar to you because you have shown yourselves to not be too dissimilar to us, at least in character and understanding,” the male figure said, in a voice remarkably similar to my grandfather's.
“Welcome,”said the female figure, in a voice quite similar to my wife's grandmother, T'Lari.
Of all the things we sat and talked of, I cannot write and could not even if many of them were not classified… the things I learned of my own galaxy, and universe, were mind-blowing. The things that are publicly known and can be publicly known I can relate to the best of my ability … one of them was that humanity and other cultures like it had been very wise to outlaw time travel by means of going at warp speed around the sun counter to its orbit.
“Since your 20th century, you have known that there is a multiverse, but there are as many phases of time inside even this galaxy as there are spirals of continuous life in the galaxy [which is a more accurate means of describing the orbits of planets actually being vortices as their stars likewise orbit the galaxy in bigger, slower versions of vortices, not perfect circles]. Had your civilization survived addling time by warping up or down the spiral around your own sun, you might have taken the habit to other suns and introduced deadly error to yourself and to all life in the galaxy, and so might other civilizations have done the same to you.”
“So, the multiverse is actually in operation within the plane of the present universe, as well as external to it,” my wife said.
“Of course, as every second leads you toward eternity that is external to time, but cannot be divided to its bottom in terms of its depth of smaller units, or in the depth of the consequences that come from it. Each second is a piece of eternity, and leading to the larger eternity, but all pieces of eternity are themselves eternity.”
Quantum physicists and string theory proponents had been working on these questions for centuries, but to have another civilization so flatly confirm what was known and add a sidelight was a wonderful thing. They shared much evidence from their own research, for which we were very grateful.
The question for which we had come – would this civilization join our little planetary consortium – came off the table almost immediately. Ambassador Bhirseyn and his wife had been diplomats, not scientists, and they had made a good first impression. Our hosts strongly expressed that, but had said that they had known that the ambassador and his wife would not be fitted to understand that the portion of the galaxy that we called our frontier was just another waypoint for them, not a home, not a place to sign permanent treaties.
“But, we would welcome friendly relations,” the male figure said, “among many such civilizations that we hold in such esteem at our waypoints.”
“Is this why I can sense billions and billions of minds, focusing on this place, right now?” my wife asked.
“Yes,” the female figure answered. “It is a source of great interest, and a sign of good to the universe, that at last, humanity and its friends shall be represented to us well.”
“What?” I said.
“We will show you,” the male figure said. “Your consortium is not unknown to us, but you do have and yet do not have the place in the galaxy, and the universe, that you like to think you do.”
All at once the building dissolved around us, and we were all sitting in the meadow of flowers V.T. and I had passed through earlier. It was night, and I was not surprised to see certain blooms just glowing in the dark:
and others like they were congealed moonlight:
“All of these,” the male figure said, “are representations of the bloom of civilizations, and their guardians.
“Now, come and see, the center,” the female figure said, and we followed them into the middle of the meadow.
“That is Vulcan, and its civilization,” the female figure said as she pointed to one near the center. “Nearly destroyed, but recovering, through logic, so much so that it by visiting humanity made it possible for humanity to know its neighbors.
“And yet it too is ailing, and shall not be fully healed – and nor will any of the rest will immune to death and dying – until humanity is fully healed,” said the male figure, who then pointed out what you see at the top of the page … that bloom faded, seemingly overgrown with some terrible green-gray fungus like that that kills conifers on Earth.
“That is humanity, whose Guardian the Creator made in His own image, only to see the Guardian and his mate rebel – and that rebellion has blasted his entire civilization and everyone adjacent to it, and everyone outward in all the spirals of continuing life throughout the entire universe. The nearer, the more terrible the effects,” the male figure said.
Talk about a humbling moment for humanity, but, there was hope!
“The first Guardian of Earth failed, but the Second Adam, when He returns to Earth, will not fail – and when He comes, all the universe will be healed, beginning with humanity, outward,” the male figure said.
“The first flower that you saw, that stood alone, out of the dry ground, resembling your idea of a cross … that was for Him, and those like you who represent Him well,” the female figure said. “We are all here, with you now, because of Who He is, and because of Who He has made you to be.”
“The husband loves and leads his bride as the Second Adam leads His bride, and the wife reveres and respects her husband as the bride should revere and honor the Second Adam – all is in order and balance, and wherever we meet such, there we have friends, even among humanity.”
“Wow,” I said. “I knew this was all deep, but I didn't know it was that deep.”
The male figure finally chuckled – still awesome enough to be impressive in his amusement.
“There is a Book of Books on Earth, I believe,” he said, “that says the angels are watching you to look into these matters. No need to get overly excited about the likes of us, also made lower than the angels.”
All at once, the building reappeared around us, and we were sitting in the meeting place.
“You are our guests, and all civilized people that may eat together should do so.”
You would think they had a line on the Garden of Eden and that Adam had not messed up – such a dinner I have not had before or since of marvelous fruits and nuts, and they shared it with us down to the last course, one tiny fruit the size of a jellybean.
“This one is optional,” the male figure said, “but it would make your return to your portion of what you know of the galaxy easier, for it would be harder for beings like you to travel back than to travel here. That is what caused Ambassador Bhirseyn's accident, because we did not know the limitations and could not warn him.”
“So how does this work?” I said.
“You sleep,” the female figure said. “There is enough that, by your own laws and needs in your culture dare not be uttered, but there is also that which your eyes dare not see. One of our friend civilizations can get you and your ship back in good order, but by means harmful for your mind to contain.”
“They intend us no harm,” my wife said, “and, the scanner tells me the same thing about this fruit.”
“All right, why not – can we see and thank our benefactors, though, in the meadow, first?” I said.
“How thoughtful of you – yes, you may,”the male figure said.
“They, and we, would be delighted,” the female figure said.
The building disappeared, and again we were in the meadow, by a blossom that reminded me of fog lit with sunset over the Pacific Ocean, representing the civilization that somehow was going to get us home.
We addressed our thanks for their kindness, and then popped our little fruits in our mouth – tasted a bit like mint and watermelon.
“Farewell,” the male figure said.
“You were much enjoyed, and, in due time, welcome to come again,” the female figure said.
All at once, the orange-colored blossom flashed, brighter than the day –
– and, my wife and I woke up curled up in our bed on Rustbucket 2, at exactly the coordinates from which we started our journey, but only one second after we made contact with our new friends.
“Was all of that a dream?” I said as I sat up.
“No,” my wife said. “Look at the computer screen … and remember how we learned: each second is a piece of eternity.”
Written there, left on the screen for us, were the details of the agreement reached – the Bhirseyn-Kirk Agreement is to this day honored between the human-led consortium and the civilization we had reached that accord with.
The Bhirseyn-Kirk Agreement, on paper (or electronic tablet), is pretty much a garden-variety friendly neutrality agreement – relatively rare because the planetary consortium had galactic rivals snapping up territory in a less friendly way, but increasingly on the frontier we had met beings such as these who did not need consortium protection. Billions of telepaths able to make of visitors' surroundings whatever they wished from visitors' own minds really do not need any further protection.
The admiral and I returned to our family, and our quiet and peaceful life on Earth, changed and deepened and better fitted for the humility of such a life together.
More palette changes on the flowers in the meadow made from the featured fractal yesterday make for a grimmer and yet hopeful story today -- down a darker, subtler path of color until the very end, when an accidental rendering on white gave the shocking return to light that completes the whole journey!