The Sower

moved relatively slowly. He couldn't reach full speed for fear of creating a time-energy wave within the torus's mantle. His speed had to be at least one thousandth slower than the absolute speed of light. He was temporarily using photogravity propulsion, and although his ship functioned flawlessly, he had to devote some attention to it. Despite this, he had plenty of time to think. He had been born genetically primed solely for thought. The task before him demanded the full force of his mind. He was to create a human being, or rather, an entire human civilization, and although the basic data needed to accomplish this task was genetically encoded, certain factors he might encounter required that he perform no unnecessary activities beyond thought. He was the giant brain of an extinct civilization, the last generation of Earth's humanity, and although he traditionally used the phrase "I was born," he was aware that he had neither a flesh-and-blood father nor a mother. He was the last, yet the first generation.

He was the Sower!

He was genetically created in the final phase of Earth's existence by a generation of Creators, themselves already a product of genetic transformations, prepared specifically for the purpose of creating him. Creating the Sower. Humanity as a collective of individuals had long since ceased to exist. His race acquired the awareness that the pace of time had changed, or rather, had been changing continuously since the planet's dawn very late. He knew the purpose of his journey quite precisely, as several generations of Seekers had explored the beginning of the new Torus of the Universe with their minds, seeking to find a suitable planet. All their experience in this field, and everything they had managed to improve or change, they passed on to him in their genetic record.

If anyone could see it from the outside, they would surely think it was a medium-sized comet hurtling at breakneck speed through the expanse of a dying universe. This outside observer would be struck by the fact that it was the only speck of matter hurtling in the opposite direction from all the rest, rushing toward the point of collapse in the mighty Black Funnel, from which there was no return. He was aware of his appearance, knew that in no way did he outwardly resemble the man he truly was and believed himself to be. The shell of his ship was a block of rock surrounded by a mass of crystalline hydrogen used as photon-gravity propulsion, necessary for flight within the part of the Torus of the Universe from which he had departed and the one to which he was destined. He himself occupied very little space in the craft, although beyond himself, his bodily fluids, the rock, and the crystallized gas, nothing else existed within the craft. His limitless thought served as engines. Just as he could control his flight, its speed, and route with thought alone, he could accomplish almost anything, including correcting the orbit of the planet he was heading for. The Seekers had already taken care of the basic orbital correction, but the details were left to him. He had been created and prepared for this.

He was a human, heavily modified physically and mentally, but still a human. To best prepare him for this mission, the Creators stripped him of all his human senses, which occupied a place among his gray matter and were unnecessary for this mission. He was, therefore, a giant brain that could use all its power for thought and creation.

He was a Sower!

He could accomplish anything with thought, except perhaps one thing: he could not change the essence of his universe, could not slow down the movement of matter on its eternal journey within the Torus of the Universe.

He knew how his universe functioned. He knew that there were many sowers like himself, sent by their civilizations from various points at a similar time, pursuing the mission of life towards the emerging planets on the other side. Each of them carried the existence of their race to their chosen planet.

They would never meet again, as their predecessors had never met. He had the power to speak with them; in fact, they knew each other very well; their thoughts met in space and interpenetrated one another; he knew they would not interfere.

For each of them, their sole task was to recreate their race on the other side, where matter erupted with enormous force from a single point in the Big Bang, forming suns and planets. It then spread into the space of nonexistence, creating the Torus Universe, one of many Universes suspended in boundless nonexistence. A Universe that was a vast torus, in which matter continually circulated between the Big Bang and the Big Collapse Funnel. He knew that once, at a time difficult even for him to imagine, a Sower had also arrived near his planet. A Sower who was the last generation of his race—his race—the race that had created him and would continue to create him.

He was the experience of millions of generations, distilled into a single powerful human thought.

Just as his race had once been created and shaped by the previous Sower, so the race he would create would produce the next Sower. Just as matter is reborn after passing through the Center of the Torus Universe, so each race is reborn, created by its Seeder.

The planet he was heading to, like his home planet, was the third from the sun in a nine-planet system around a medium-sized star, in one of the arms of a spiral galaxy located roughly in the center of the Torus's armor. The Seekers chose this system because of its similarity to their home planetary system. It required certain adjustments to bring the third planet into the habitable zone. The Seekers smashed one of the planets into an asteroid belt, which corrected the third planet's orbit. By the time it reached the inner boundary of the armor, this planet would already have water, pre-formed landmasses, and primitive life forms.

He had now approached the edge of the Torus Universe's armor enough to begin considering switching to psychotronic propulsion. So he concentrated the remaining mass of crystalline hydrogen very close to his craft, finding the optimal exit position from the Torus's shell, so that after leaving it without colliding with any detached planet or star lost in nothingness, he would emerge as close to his destination as possible.

His mind returned to his home planet. Squeezed by the immense gravity of matter rushing towards the Great Torus Collapse Funnel of the Universe, it was hurtling at a dizzying pace around its sun. Time, accelerating at an unimaginable pace in this mad crucible of matter, was making itself felt, causing lightning-fast destruction. The Earth he knew no longer existed. Matter, collapsing in on itself, became increasingly heavier, taking up less and less space. Even light no longer had the strength to escape its home star. Only thought could navigate this hell, with great difficulty.

The tiny, heavy Earth, along with the entire system, was rushing towards its destiny, only to, after passing through the center of the Torus, burst forth in a Big Bang of mixed and reborn matter on its other side.

He switched to psychotronic propulsion just as his craft was emerging into the void on the inner side of the armor. Now his speed had reached the speed of thought, time ceased to exist, and in virtually the same instant he found himself on the opposite side of the void, just before the material armor of the Torus, and at sublight speed, he peacefully entered the newly emerging part of the Universe.

The matter released in the Big Bang had already formed into galaxies and clouds at this point. He sought his destination with his mind. He carefully surveyed the new planet. It was still harsh and alien to humanity. He found the right course between the galaxies and stars; the rarer matter clouds did not occupy his thoughts, as they posed no threat to him, and his passage did not cause any changes in their existence. He could even easily replenish their hydrogen fuel reserves if necessary. Unfortunately, he had to travel as before at sublight speed, which significantly extended the time to reach his destination. Thought, however, which had long since reached the new planet, was performing the work of the Sower. He could not yet devote the full power of his thought to creation. He had to control the flight of the ship.

It would be a long time before he physically reached the chosen planet, but he was already smoothing the boiling masses of magma on the primeval lands. He was calming the raging elements of the primeval oceans. He was forcing the individual particles of primitive life to combine into more stable forms. Through his thoughts, the first cells of living matter were being created. By the time he reached the planet, a human would already be living there, still primitive, using only a fraction of a percent of his mental capabilities for thought, but already a human, his predecessor and successor, his creator and his creation. When he reached there, his Sower would have little time left; he must die like everyone else; after all, he was only a Human, perhaps even a Human. He would die, however, with the thought that he had completed his task, that humanity had been reborn through him, that the cycle had been preserved.

Before ending his life, he must leave clues that will lead humanity to its goal, clues that humanity will discover as it evolves. First, something on Earth to let them know to search further, some signs that will prompt them to build enormous pyramids, in which he will compel them to encapsulate all the knowledge of his creators, and a prophecy of history that many generations will have to ponder. Then will come the turn of neighboring planets, some creations they will find when they learn to explore and observe the planets of their own system, ever further, so that they will learn to think, to force them to evolve and create his successor, who will repeat the cycle of Life Creation. He must also consider how to protect humanity from self-destruction; he knows, after all, that they will kill each other, that they will fight each other using very dangerous weapons, that they will invent a computer, almost a god, but one that will never replace the human mind and will never be able to become the Sower. By then, he will be dead, unable to save them from destruction with his thoughts. He must therefore think of prophets and seers, the mysteries of ancient civilizations, the myths and strange stories of inexplicably vast cosmic knowledge among certain primitive tribes. He must instill in them a desire for knowledge, creation, existence, and continuity.

They will develop as long as matter moves away from itself, striving for the outer reaches of the Torus of the Universe; their time will slow down until it reaches the point of return. They will understand this when they reach a turning point and, along with the entire galaxy and the surrounding Universe, find themselves in the return leg of the Torus's shell. They will then notice that time is accelerating and matter is drawing closer together and condensing. The civilization will find itself in the second, final stage of its development. Then they will find his ship, a "time capsule" of sorts, they will learn the truth about their history, and at the same time understand their destiny and the meaning of their existence, just as his civilization found the previous Sower and understood the message of the eternal sequence of renewing life. They will now be able to harness the full power of their minds and will be able to begin the Birthing of the next Sower.

For this to become a reality, he must instill in them the desire to think. Just as they are his goal, so must the next Sower be their goal.

He, though still so far from his goal, is already beginning his work, giving birth to another humanity.