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Letters from the Universe


Letters from the Universe

If the Universal Library contains everything, which is to say that the Library contains a true history of each and every periodic (cyclical) universe, concurrent and consecutive, then there will be the possibility of communicating across time and space. 

The Universal Library is generated by an algorithm; maths applied. Any intelligence that can code an algorithm that also is slightly clever will code a Universal Library algorithm; ubiquitous. Any culture that can do that can write a letter, and that letter becomes part of the Universal Library's true history collection. The algorithm will attempt translation into its provided-set language by happenstance (English, in this case). That means that any other intelligence anywhere in space, any time, any other periodic universe, might just come across that letter. 

And reply.

Here is the Librarian's letter, and following that one of the many millions of replies.

I am the Librarian of a Universal Library, a maker of the algorithm with only one function; the algorithm randomly chooses—coincidence—one character of a set of characters, and then repeats. By this method, the algorithm coincidently writes true histories of each and every periodic universe, both consecutive and concurrent. This letter is written for you. By me.

You are in my periodic universe, and you are also in a periodic universe a million periods back in time or one just over as our closest neighbor universe. I cannot count the number of you reading this, many of you reading this in response to your own prior letter or about to write a reply of your own. I will read them. That is the nature of the impossible. The impossible happens by coincidence.

We are each other in comparison to nothing of lesser importance than this—a letter sent into time, delivered to every periodic universe where there is a universal library. How many universes is that? Wherever there is math, there is a universal library and this letter, and yours, are delivered. I had intended to share the universal library with rest of the people of this blue planet circling a small star, but I read forward in alternative history and saw the outcomes that such a decision would create. They’re not ready for it just yet. They’ve no context for it and so it would be our utter destruction as a lifeform. Soon. There will come the time, a miniscule event barely noticed by even a blade of grass on a sunny hillside, that they are ready. Perhaps then context will be their capacity, and that capacity will enable use of the universal library freely.

That is the nature of the universal library—true histories do exist, but which is true and which is one-off, or quite untrue? The ones you choose to make? As simple as that? We basically understand each other though our languages are different because that is also the nature of the universes—the nature of math, and algorithm—to translate from my series of symbols to your characters or symbols. I do not believe the whole context will translate. I don’t believe that’s important. I do not intend offense or defense.

I write this letter in the hope it brings you hope. I know you as you, in your own universal library, know me. We are as we are. We do as we do, but perhaps we write these letters for something better. I do not know better. Do you? Write me a reply. The universal library will deliver your letter.

I am reminded from our popular entertainment that we are all stories in the end. I am reminded that stories are where memories go when they are forgotten. To some of my detractors, they feel I leave their lives and memories to the dust as if old books on a shelf. I do not. I became the Librarian. I love them.

Whether you are like me, or I am like you, good, bad, striving for peace or belligerent in war, I forgive and love you. You are completely and utterly forgiven and loved.


The Librarian

Here is one of the replies, translated by the algorithm into English.

We received your letter. We reply in kind. We laugh at some translations to and back to language. No context for some—all context. Laugh. Is yours also we? Just one? Star? Is above? Is sky? We caretake Collection a cycle thirteen to power twenty six before your letter. Dead. Not yet born. Redundant meaning on scale.

Cycle started a million billion periods compare to your period around? Around star? That is above? Above is haze. Dark? Unlit lit? All context.

We do look forward. Some ask in anger. We cannot allow. Seems the same for you. Some ignore us. Seems the same for you? We ask us. We do not know better. War. Same? Peace. Same. Birth. Same. Sleep. Same.

Is experience of sleep awake too? Dream? Do you dream?