BARRIER

*** * ***

Commander Omron stared blankly at the screen. They had been on the Frontier near the R 986 system for three days. They were taking measurements and observing the Barrier.

What were the readings? Omron, bored with everything, longed, like every inhabitant of the galaxy on its edge, to return to base as quickly as possible.

Slowly, but steadily, it was growing.

When had it started?

The first observations date back to before 16B, but in this location, energy consumption is 6600% higher than in other regions. It's starting to draw energy from a nearby star.

Omron had little understanding of technical details. Like most of those who belong to the elite (though not yet the highest), he didn't concern himself with details. To him, all devices had to work, and how they operated was of no concern to him. If something broke (which happened rarely and irritated him greatly, like everyone else), he threw it away and bought another.

He knew as much about the Barrier itself as anyone else – created in the immemorial, ancient times of the First Republic by the Great Imram. Everything concerning the Ancients was shrouded in mystery, magic, and ambiguity. Only snippets of information about them, offering only general outlines, were known. It was known that it was the Ancients who, during the First Republic, had explored the entire Galaxy and united it. Then they built the Barrier.

The Barrier was a network of billions upon billions of satellites, tightly enveloping the entire Galaxy like a net. The satellites generated a broad-spectrum force field outside the Galaxy, preventing anything from entering from beyond its borders. Recently, however, the Barrier's energy consumption in this region had begun to increase. Slowly, steadily, and steadily, the satellites began generating more and more of the energy they needed to maintain the field in their reactors. Recently, demand exceeded the capacity of their reactors, and cunning devices began drawing energy from a nearby star. According to experts, the star's energy should also be depleted soon. This was precisely the mission of the Omron ship. One of the last conscious senators on the corrupt Imperial Council became interested in this phenomenon, whether out of genuine concern for the Galaxy or pure curiosity born of boredom, it's unclear.

"When will the star's energy be exhausted?" Omron asked.

The technician shrugged.

"We don't know. The consumption isn't constant; it increases sometimes more strongly, sometimes less strongly. It's not linear, and we haven't found any pattern in the pulsation itself.

" "You wouldn't find pattern even in ocean tides," Omron thought. Indeed, the technicians' education left much to be desired, as did their mental acuity. They had excellent instruments, but they weren't fully capable of using them and drawing conclusions.

Had the reconnaissance team returned yet?

Yes. This is the only place where such an increase in energy consumption occurs. This spot indicates an increased demand for energy; even if it expands, the process occurs so slowly that it is imperceptible. Something external is concentrating on this very spot.

Good. We'll stay here another day – Omron followed the orders he received, albeit reluctantly

. The Barrier had been operating continuously for thousands of years. It repaired all faults itself through its servos. In place of any accidentally destroyed satellite, a new one immediately appeared, generated by the reproducers of neighboring units. The Barrier replenished and repaired itself. Almost no one, except perhaps a few scientists, remembered how the Barrier worked, and no one could repair it. There had never been such a need. It was a perfect machine, the largest ever created. And it was created to defend against external threats. That was all the Holy Books of the Past said. No one had ever ventured beyond the Barrier. The galaxy was like a grid. Why was the Barrier built? What danger could lurk beyond the Barrier? No one knew the answers to these questions either. For thousands of years, the only danger to the Galaxy had been within itself. Internal strife, civil wars, coups, corruption among rulers – these alone threatened millions of planets and quadrillions of lives. History was quickly forgotten. In place of a fallen Republic, an Empire or a Federation arose. Continuity, as it were, was maintained. True, there were isolated rebellions and splinter groups of self-proclaimed kingdoms. Depending on whether the Republic or the Empire existed, such pockets of resistance were crushed or sovereign territories conquered more or less quickly. The only entity that existed almost intact was the Galactic Fleet. Throughout its existence, various suffixes were added to its name – "Imperial," "Republican," and "Federation" – yet it remained the same institution. It belonged to senators, the Council, and consuls, but its structure had long remained unchanged. The greatest source of information, and the oldest, was the Starfleet archives. Despite this, even there was no information about the origins of the First United Republic or the reasons for the construction of the Barrier.

Omron was tired of doing nothing.

Wake me up in 17a.

That's right.

The ship Omron commanded. It was a 2C-class cruiser. It had the longest range possible. Relatively modern, but nowhere near the 6Y-class battleships or even the older 3X-class. However, it was very versatile. The vessel Omron commanded was commissioned as the 6420th class. This was also its full tactical name, 2C-6420V. The last symbol denoted the number of modernizations (or repairs). The 2C-class cruisers were no longer the youngest. The 2C-6420V had already participated in three battles. The last, according to the Starfleet archives, was in the A-1640 system during the P648B rebellion.

Omron had barely managed to lie down when a signal woke him. "

Commander, please come to the bridge."

It was the voice of the officer on duty. When he arrived, the officer gave him the following report: "

Unusual, sudden, and severe power surge in the nearest satellite.

Sensors.

Most are interfering with a strong force field. The rest are indicating nothing."

Omron walked over to a huge screen showing a satellite generating a force field in the area.

What the hell is trying to get in here?

*** * ***

Tiny, considering the capabilities of the race that created it, the ship was traveling through the vast expanse of the galaxy. Its sole occupant, Professor of Archaeology Urmanhoff, one of the most distinguished scientists in the entire Republic, was preparing for sleep. This was not to be an ordinary sleep. Urmanhoff had been researching the development of various races and beings for years. In recent days, he had made several extraordinary discoveries. Treated theoretically and in isolation, these discoveries would undoubtedly have contributed to the professor receiving further awards and titles, and would surely have pleased him—if only the professor had treated them without any connection to reality. The first few minutes after their discovery, the great scientist was even pleased, but now he was preparing for the "raw-ba" ritual of death in his sleep. Isolated from the world, he had spent a long time alone studying every possible record from the past that he could find. He was so absorbed in his work that he didn't listen to reports from the Galaxy, didn't listen to or watch hundreds of news broadcasts. Only now, after completing his work, did he find the time. Then he understood. All his work had to be compared to the present moment, to reality; only then did one receive the full picture; only then did Urmanhoff grasp the meaning of his work and all his discoveries. For years, he tried to prove a hypothesis: every civilization, no matter its stage of development or technological advancement, goes through three stages: initial development, a phase of greatest flourishing, and a final stage of decline, which, as Urmanhoff discovered, cannot be stopped. This decline is unaffected by any technological, cultural, or philosophical achievements. Moreover, as research has shown, virtually no culture to date was aware that its decline had just begun. All civilizations, reaching their peak of development, were too proud and haughty to imagine their end. The decline always began imperceptibly for these beings.

Until now, for the professor, it had been merely a theory, albeit one supported by hundreds of historical examples. "

So, we've reached the end," the professor declared, watching the news for the first time in years.

At that moment, everything ceased to matter. The enormity of the discovery and its timeliness overwhelmed the professor.

Perhaps this is how it's supposed to be, he asked himself silently, perhaps all civilizations are supposed to be unaware of their ultimate demise, just as every creature is unaware of the moment of its death.

After a moment, Urmanhoff realized what he was doing. "

I'm looking for a reason, for order in the chaos that is life," he said aloud to himself again, "is this how it's supposed to be?"

He was even surprised that from the first moment, from the moment he realized there was no salvation for him or anyone else in the Galaxy, he was surprised that it didn't frighten him. Urmanhoff was resigned to this fact. He didn't know whether it should frighten him. He remembered fragments of notes found on some backwater planet; he couldn't even remember its name.

Wait a minute, he thought aloud, what was that planet's name—Dran Terda, Tarn Derva, Nard Vedra—no, he couldn't remember. All he remembered was that he'd been trying for a long time to prove his point, and when he succeeded, he was incredibly surprised by the age of those notes. They were more than twice as old as any he had heard of. They predated the First Republic, and that seemed impossible.

Urmanhoff pieced together his discoveries only when he heard a small mention in some local news about increased energy consumption by barrier satellites near Tetuach. The seemingly meaningless mention, combined with a fragment of verse he had managed to decipher from a forgotten planet, dazzled him. He remembered this fragment from the very first moment. The hardest part was translating it. The forgotten words, ambiguous, were a language unlike any he had heard:

"(...) when the finality arrives (...) nothing but new life can save old life (...) For there exists in the universe a force (...) capable of destroying everything to give way to new forms of life, and it appears only when life itself has not collapsed or has not led to its collapse (...)"

Now that the professor had learned of the unexpected energy surge at a certain point in the barrier, he was certain that this scrap of writing was true. Urmanhoff knew the barrier would certainly keep this thing out for some time; it wouldn't be able to resist indefinitely. And this force would press on until it succeeded, for that was its purpose. That was its destiny. Therefore, Urmanhoff was fully aware of the end of the Galaxy. He didn't even care what form this force would take. Whether it would be alien life forms or some other cosmic phenomenon. Deep down, he didn't even want to see it. "Were we too perfect, or had we existed too long," he thought, "cosmos trying to punish us now. We lived long, perhaps even too long, meaning that in the eyes of the universe, immortality is punishable. This is the new law of the cosmos. On the other hand, it was interesting how ambiguous the word "force" was in that language; it also meant evil and... depth."

The professor finished the sentence, "raw-ba," sat down for a moment, and then lay down. Slowly, carefully, savoring these last breaths. "It's interesting—that was his last thought—that all highly advanced, intelligent life forms rest lying down." At that moment, Urmanhoff closed his eye.

*** * ***

Omron's ship completed its scans of the satellite and its surroundings, but they didn't gather as much data as they had expected. It was unclear whether this was due to the technicians' incompetence or whether there really was some completely unknown force outside. The technicians calculated that the satellite would last for about 6482e, and then, unless another satellite was generated in time, something would break into the galaxy's core. Omron ordered a U-turn, and a moment later the cruiser was flying at top speed toward fleet command to report. Nothing happened, and nothing would happen. The Galactic Council was too busy with internal disputes and punishing its own dishonest members that it couldn't address the barrier problem. And why would it? The barrier had operated independently and unnoticed for so long that no one noticed, and many didn't even know of its existence. They had become accustomed to it, just as they had become accustomed to interplanetary travel.

*** * ***

68E, after Omron's departure from the burdened Barrier, the satellite could not withstand the pressure of the singularity stream and ceased functioning. The 0.012 millionth of a second gap needed to replace it with a new satellite was enough to begin the exodus of the Galaxy. The new satellite never appeared, and the harbinger of its end—the Depth—began to penetrate the Galaxy's depths.

But Professor Urmanhoff, perhaps the only being in the entire Galaxy aware of the end, never saw this. He drifted, dead, peacefully in his tiny ship through the cosmic void.