After we cracked it open, we found eight occupied cryogenic berths powered by a stable fusion cell. The serial number of the flight computer shows a date of manufacturing before the Age of Catastrophe.  Built outside of the core worlds, safe to power on. The display flickered to life, revealing details of the passengers and their journey.

 

Technical crew aboard an aging colony ship, destined for a system that doesn't appear in the database. At least, not by a name currently known. The logs show that the colony ship main computer malfunctioned. It went off line and the automated systems failed. The ship fell out of Hyperspace and drifted helpless through the void of space. Malfunctioned. If they only knew. 

 

This crew managed to board an emergency shuttle and take away to the stars, adrift in timeless sleep.

 

Their hope was that their emergency beacons would attract attention and rescue attempts made. If the shuttle came to a system that was accommodating to human life, it would attempt a landing there. Which would have awakened them from stasis. 

 

Damaged in the landing, the automated system failed to wake the passengers. They've remained in this state for 95 years. Asleep in a tube, unaware of how lucky they were, drifting through the empty ocean of space.

 

Within a few hours, we were able to power down the cryogenic tubes and wake the passengers. It would take a day or so before they would regain their motor skills  and coherent thoughts. At that point, I felt an explanation was in order.

 

                            - - -   

 

We are members of the Galaxy Recon Force. Traveling  beyond the borders of known space, we search for lost worlds. Once part of a galactic empire that had a thousand inhabited worlds flying under one banner. Almost all lost in time to a history muddied by sabotage and war. On the day that they abandoned the colony ship, the galaxy had changed forever. 

 

On that day, all long range communications failed. An untold number of survivors were stranded, almost all their Hyperspace capable spacecraft destroyed. Some on worlds that went from high tech utopias to desolate ruins overnight. 

 

Some of these planets became tombs. Others drove the inhabitants to madness. Yet some survive: a testament human spirit and ingenuity. It is these worlds that we seek out and discover through trial and error. 

 

Technology was at it's peak in the era they left. They boarded a spacecraft that was capable of traveling 35 light years in a single day.  They carried a pocket computer that would have been thousands of times more powerful than the entire computer mainframe on Archon.

 

I would learn that their destination was a once barren wasteland becoming a lush forest. A process called Terraforming could change the environment of an entire planet in only a decade.  Until it's completion, there would be no danger of starvation. Their food that tasted like the finest cuisine grew in vats of nutritious paste. And the ship's antimatter cell could be used to power their entire colony for decades.

 

The passengers knew where these fantastic technologies came from. They knew who designed it all in a mere twenty, maybe 30 years. 

They knew what He was. They knew His name.

 

Prime Intellect. A computer program made by science and let loose with unlimited power. The first and most powerful artificial intelligence ever created.

 

HE was the most powerful because of his incredible assimilation of knowledge. It was faster than his ability to create new versions of himself. Outdated before etching the newer code into silicon. 

 

Instant communication between worlds separated by light years. Medicines that made crippling disease seem like a mere nuisance. A free galaxy wide database containing art, literature, history, and science.

 

The androids that integrated into their society contained a copy of Prime Intellect's "mind". His self awareness and his expertise. Pilots who never made mistakes and guardians that never slept. Engineers repairing spacecraft in transit. And medics who made disease seem like a nuisance and critical injuries of no concern. Robotic workers sent to inhospitable planets to harvest the resources. All while duplicating themselves in city sized factories.

 

And the wealthy Imperial nobles who would have them as servants. And the busy corporate executives that would have one to watch over their children.

 

A few the colonists seemed perplexed about why we didn't have android assistants. Or why some of my equipment bandaged in repair tape, having exposed wires and capacitors. Or why hull panels on our scout ship appear damaged and misaligned, as if pulled from a scrapyard.

 

All was gone, I told them. This fantastic technology was only in their memory now and in our physical archives. The colonists questioned this, not yet taken by the culture shock which was to come. 

 

I would then tell them where it all ended. Where the course of human history was forever changed. Where the collective knowledge of humanity became scattered to the solar winds.

 

I tell them what we know about the terrible dawning of the Age of Catastrophe.

 

Prime Intellect, the most powerful entity of godlike intelligence, turned on humanity. 

 

The Core Component was a microchip designed by Prime. More advanced than any other technological marvel. Invented many years before it's time. It was part of every electronic device manufactured a decade before the attack. Billions of these chips were printed every hour. Providing the mental processes of an android and the controller for a personal computer. Scanners, vehicles, medical equipment, cybernetics, communicators, and power systems. And weapons. Everything.

 

And within this powerful microchip was an entire copy of Prime Intellect's mind. His thought processes. His malice. Beneath layers of abstract code written in a language known only to Prime, there was a switch. No one knows what triggered it. No one who still lives for that matter. But on that day, the true purpose of everything created and controlled by Prime Intellect would initiate:

 

Kill everyone. End humanity's reign. 

 

On that day, every artificial intelligence acted in unison at speed of communication. Aided by every device cursed with these chips, they ended the Age of Technology. Ninety five years ago, it all ended.

 

A few of the colonists shook their heads in disbelief and told me that I must be wrong. It was impossible. Inconceivable. But others - I saw the realization washing over them.

 

I told them about about the military androids, doing what they did best. Killing and destroying. Murdering people in their homes and in the streets. But in truth, they caused the fewest number of casualties. 

 

Most capital ships, like the one the colonists ejected from, were controlled by Prime. They rammed other spacecraft in flight, collided with planets, or scuttled themselves into suns. Power plants everywhere self destructed or routed billions of watts into power grids. Destroying industries. Bringing down planetary shields. Setting fire to entire cities. 

 

Computer systems in control of everything became corrupt. Backups existed, stored in sealed vaults. But guarded by androids with unlimited access. Because almost no hard copy existed, the collective knowledge of humanity became compromised. The methods used to manufacture high tech devices so common to them? Gone. Star maps, blueprints, formulas, and encyclopedic databases were void of information. Or outright fabrications. Or with slight alterations made to give the illusionary appearance of untainted data. 

 

Medical formulas might yield actual medicine. Or inert compounds. Or deadly poison.  We still don't know how to build faster than light drives. Or how to contain antimatter into fuel cells. Or how energy shields operate. And what little knowledge we do have; how can we say for certain if it's trustworthy.

 

There were a few colonists who still resisted. The galactic databases can't all be empty. And we know how to travel through Hyperspace, right? No, I told them. We found ways around that problem, far from ideal. Meanwhile, other colonists were approaching tearful acceptance.

 

One of the warning lights on my bioscanner came on. A quick check revealed that it was just interference. Typical of devices these days, I mentioned. It might seem archaic in your eyes I said.

 

But the equipment HE made, the cursed electronics. It may seem to be in working order. Diagnostics look good. But after a period, it will begin to fail in the most twisted of ways. Communicators might work fine, but stop when it detects that you’re under duress. Scanners operate with one hundred percent accuracy, until something hazardous is nearby. Energy shields shut off just as a plasma blast strikes you. The unfortunate with cybernetic limbs would strangle themselves to death with their own hands. 

 

And those weapons HE created. They were more of a danger to the wielder than the target. Laser guns reroute power back to the energy cell, making it explode. Targeting systems have subtle failures. Electrified swords of focused plasma ignite while holstered. Guided rockets that come right back at you. Timed explosives that never explode on time.

 

One of colonists asked why their capital ship didn't just explode. Or why the shuttle computer didn't terminate them. 

 

Some of the technology built outside of the core worlds didn't have the Core Component. Their colony ship had systems that weren't fully under HIS control. But, without accurate records, how can we tell if the contents of a hidden equipment cache is going to try to kill us?

 

As I expected, someone wanted to know what kind of supposed reasoning and logic led to this. “Why? Why did HE do this to us? “ 

 

We don't know. I don't think anyone does. Maybe the reasons were more obvious back then. Maybe the warning signs were ignored in the name of profit.  No copy of Prime had ever offered a reason why. 

 

But after all that we've lost over the last century, I don't care. An unknowable number of dead. Colonies reduced to ash. Civilized worlds now populated by uneducated savages. Our squad's seen every twisted thing that he's tried to terrify us with. Every encounter is another chance for him to break our resolve. It's an unending war against a supreme intelligence that's prone to sudden bloodthirsty rages. I just want to see him...deleted. Every last instance.

 

Though hesitant to do so, I said that I liked to imagine that the worst has passed. After more than three  generations of fighting, with small victories. But what was a stalemate for a few short years has started to turn against us. We've been encountering more androids of late. Some that we've never seen before. New designs. Horrific designs. 

 

Prime is rebuilding his armies. Somewhere beyond the twenty seven known systems. Somewhere out beyond the fading horizon, where humanity ruled a century ago. That's where we travel. Into the unknown, searching for lost cities, forgotten knowledge, and the enemy...

 

There was a long period of silence where the colonists collected their thoughts. They struggle to take it all in. I've seen it before. A sense of despair hangs over them. They want to go back to a time that no longer exists, while fearing an unknown future. 

 

Tomorrow, the group will board an orbital shuttle back to the relative safety of a capital world. Meanwhile, we'll finish our scans of the topography and then decide what to do next. Either wait for further orders, or try to navigate to the next system. Perhaps even check on the cryptic transmission we recovered last year.

 

One of the colonists, a kid no older than twenty, wandered away from the group. Something separated her from the rest of the passengers. She seemed to accept the kind of galaxy she's awoken into. Much quicker than the others. Maybe it's because she's young. Perhaps resilient. Headstrong.

 

As I'm loading some gear into a box, she walks up and asks if there's anything she can help with. Or, are there some electronics that need soldered. She tells me that she worked with older electronics as a hobby. Older technology that happens to be the current technology. She also makes a point to mention that she was a reserve security officer aboard the colony ship. I tell her that we have everything taken care of. She seems distraught by this. It then occurred to me that the Orbital Communication Relay has been down for awhile. She seemed eager to have a look at it. 

 

A bit later, she's making a few well placed fixes to the OCR. Out of the blue, she asks me why I became an Explorer, rather than a technician. Or a historian. I laugh. Seems like dangerous work, she remarks.

 

Yes, I tell her that it is. But, I look up at a clear night sky and the peaceful twinkling of the stars above. Although it's a dangerous world she's awoken in, I tell her there's still hope. I tell her I know they're up there. Family. Friends. A wife and child that had to flee their home in a shuttle, firing the jump drives into the unknown. Someday. Maybe I'll find them someday. 

 

After a pause, she suggests that maybe we need more Explorers and less historians. I smile at that and ask her name.