Intergalactic Summit

Even if the stars should die in heaven
Our sins can never be undone
No single death will be forgiven
When fades at last the last lit sun.
Then in the cold and silent black
As light and matter end
We'll have ourselves a last look back
And toast an absent friend.

I'm not fond of death that should be rather immediately apparent, even some of my most visible tattoos shout my defiance of death to all who can read them. I also think death is something that can be annihilated from the face of the universe. Its not an insurmountable wall, and some day, we'll get over it. That isn't to say it will be easy, death is an extremely difficult technical problem, to be attacked with biotech and nanotech and other technological means. I do not tell a tale of the land called Future, nor state as a fact that humanity will someday be free of death - I have no magical ability to see through time. But death is a great evil, and I will oppose it whenever I can. I've managed at the very least to carve out Origin as a bastion against Death, and in this one small place, we are able to see the flickers of a dawn brighter then we can imagine. I don't think humanity will always be stuck in the awkward stage we now occupy, when we are smart enough to create enormous problems for ourselves, but not quite smart enough to solve them. I think that humanity's problems are solvable; difficult, but solvable.

When I was a teenager, immortality seemed barely out of reach. Even as a street kid in Skarkon, I basically planned on living forever. I had no idea how this would happen, but the technology was there, I just couldn't afford it. So I liked to say things like "I have two living parents and five living siblings, and I'll have two living parents and five living siblings when the last star burns down to a cinder."

And then my fiancé, Aidan Asgath, died.

He died on October 19th, YC109. I watched the light leave his eyes.

And, I still have two living parents and five living siblings, but I don't really say that specific phrase anymore. Even if we make it to and through the Singularity, it will be too late. One of the people I love won't be there. The universe has a surprising ability to stab you through the heart from somewhere you weren't looking. Of all the people I had to protect, I never thought that Aidan might be one of them. Aidan was born December 10, YC88. He was nineteen years old when he died.

Clan tradition provides a number of condolences and rituals to make death easier to bear. "Aidan has passed on" and "Aidan is in a better place now." Or "He's still around as a spirit, watching you" that one's always popular. I never was able to find much comfort in the rituals, though I weathered them better then Aidan's parent's did. I think we know, deep down, that those statements are lies trying to comfort us, but I don't particularly want to be comforted.

Maybe it helps to believe in an immortal soul. I know that I would feel a lot better if Aidan had gone away on a trip somewhere, even if he was never coming back. But Aidan did not "pass on," he is not "with the spirts." Aidan is not coming back. Aidan doesn't exist any more. Aidan was absolutely annihilated at the age of nineteen. Yes, that makes me angry. I can't put into words how angry.

Aidan's death is the first time I ever lost someone close enough for it to hurt. However, it allowed me to see the face of the enemy. Now I understand, a little better, the price of half a second. I don't understand it well, because the human brain has a pattern built into it. We do not grieve forever, but move on. We mourn for a few days and then continue with our lives. Such underreaction poorly equips us to comprehend Aidan's death. Nineteen years, 7248 days, of life and memory annihilated. A thousand years, or a million millennia, or a forever, of future life lost.

Lives are snuffed out constantly, every second of every day, but finally we're on the verge of being able to do something about it. Cloning technology is the obvious candidate, and through the introduction of the Slingshot Cloning System We hope to spread our cure for death as far as we can. There are however, many other avenues to explore, and we can't explore them all on our own. We as capsuleers have all the tools and resources needed, and maybe, just maybe, ours can be the generation that ends death.

To that end, I have created this pledge. Any individual, corporation, or alliance may sign it, and their names will be added to the main list to be contained in the next post. The only qualification to appear on the list is a personal commitment to oppose death, and a zero mortality rate among all employees working for you.

Let our commitments be made publicly, so we keep each other to them. May they be made loudly, fiercely, full of righteous fury at the injustice of the universe. Let us join together, and together we can be the generation to end death.

I worry about you, Saede.

But we are cheating death regularly?

Depends on just how your philosophy on the matter runs. One could say we die all the time we just have back-ups, so there may be multiple copies of you when you reach the afterlife.

Or there may only be the you that died when you first got your implants, and everything else you've done, everyone else you've known, is nothing...

I embrace death, my own death, at least. Might seem odd that I say that, having willingly become a capsuleer, but nonetheless I await the day when I will shut my eyes for the last time.

Life is beautiful and amazing because it stands in such stark contrast with the dark. Look at how jaded so many capsuleers are. Ever wonder why so many people doubt we are human? We've forgotten death, so we throw away life. I find soft comfort in the knowledge that every person will eventually die. It binds us together, it makes us people, it keeps us humble.

Maybe a rare one glows bright enough to be seen on its on, but we are all just sparks, most too short-lived and dim to be seen individually. Together, we are a roaring fire, beautiful even for our horrible flaws, burning resolutely against the dark. What will that mean when it's all light outside?

Defeat death and we lose life.

Death has a purpose, even from the basic singular cell organisms, it's nature's way of balancing things out.

Not to mention it brings a certain dynamic to life - if everything would just stay in a constant state of invincibility and immortality, things would get rather dull rather quickly.

I won't drivel on with these basic biological or philosophical concepts however, but merely suggest you should perhaps invest into improving the lives of those already alive instead.

On behalf of my assistant manager, I would like to reiterate that "For those who want more from life." is already a slogan trademarked by Quafe company.

Thank you.

"I will exist forever!" said the face formed of sand.

The waves came, and scattered the sand all across the beach, and then storms came and washed the beach away, and scattered it to other beaches along the coast and down to the ocean floor, where time would sift more layers down over it. As eons passed, the sun grew and expanded until it swallowed the world, and all was burned and transformed into plasma in the star's heart.

Eventually, dying, the sun exploded in a cataclysm of matter and energy, and all it had gathered burst outwards, coalescing into new stars and new worlds.

And so the face's statement was true.

My theory is to put the original bodies of the crew in cold-store and activate the clones. The clones then fight and die. On the death of the clone then the original is activated and either paid off or else recloned for another tour.

No muss, no fuss.