futures The stars my incarnation You read it here first, folks. spare parts. The next 50 years saw the devel- this time would be any different. “It was the Robert A. Metzger opment of self-awareness in silicon-based year 2000, nearly 700 years ago, and Nature hardware, which then gave way to self-aware- was celebrating the beginning of the new ness in plasma systems, the density of ions “W elcome back, Creator Metzger.” millennium with essays about what the next twirling about in a magnetic field far in excess I attempted a groan, but the 1,000 years might bring. I wrote one of those of anything silicon was capable of producing. noise sounded like a cat hacking pieces, about a future in which most of the “In 2083, one totally certifiable loon up a fur ball. Before me stood several dozen Solar System had been transported four light named Rufus Mapelton, a plasma hacker black-robed priests, the nearest one drop- years away to the Centauri star system.” who spent every conscious and unconscious ping to his knees and shuffling toward my “And Your Will was done!” screamed the moment interfaced to the plasma network, optical receiver. head priest. stumbled across my long-forgotten Nature “On this 200th anniversary of our arrival “Yes, my will was done. In that fictional piece. Mapelton had a little ‘eureka’ moment, at the Centauri system, we wish to tell you of piece, I proposed that if the Sun’s magnetic realizing that if he could transfer a self-aware our progress, of our further implementation fields could be controlled, then they could be plasma-based entity into the photosphere of Your Vision.” used to expel a relativistic jet of protons, basi- of the Sun, it could then take control of the I angled my optical interface upward, cally turning the Sun into a rocket engine. Sun’s magnetic fields and implement my peering up through the transparent ceiling of Under an extremely small but steady acceler- fictional vision.” the Cathedral. Night, and Alpha Centauri A ation, just one ten-thousandth of a standard “He was Your Instrument.” burned bright, less than one light day away. gee, after 200 years the Sun would be moving “I suppose so. Mapelton synthesized his “Get over here,” I said to the priest. at nearly 2% the speed of light and would plasma virus, uplinked it to one of the Sol- He knee-walked to the optical interface. have travelled two light years. At that point, Corona satellites, and then had the satellite “I’m not your Creator,” I said. “I was a the direction of the acceleration would be spiral into the Sun. Six weeks later the Sun little-known science-fiction writer of the reversed, and 200 years later the Sun would achieved self-awareness and decided to head early twenty-first century who had the great come to a halt in the Centauri system. The off for the Centauri system. It was then that misfortune of getting published in a journal whole trip would consume only about 1% of they reconstructed what was left of my mind, called Nature.” the Sun’s mass. hoping that I could help shut down the Sun’s The priest hid his face in his hands, and “Of course it wouldn’t be an easy trip. desire for a new home. Of course, I couldn’t. shuddered. “You gave us the stars, showed us Even under that gentle acceleration the big Between the quakes, the comet impacts where our destiny lay.” outer planets would be left behind, and and the skewed orbit, intelligent life barely I sighed, this time the speaker emitting a Earth’s circular orbit would be turned into an survived the trip.” bark that sounded like a car backfiring. ellipse. As a result, half of the year the planet “And now we flourish,” said the priest. “Every time one of you wakes me up, I try to would freeze and the other half it would “And we wish to tell You of our further explain this to you, try to make it clear, try to bake. It seemed to me that the easiest way to achievements.” set the record straight, but none of you seems get the job done would be if the Sun first It was always like this. They listened, but to get it.” achieved self-awareness.” never really heard me. “So what’s new?” “We are not worthy,” he said as he “Your Vision was made real.” “We plan a wondrous journey.” dropped to the crystal floor, grinding his “Yes. I died back in 2027, the result of a “Oh?” nose into its rainbow-coloured surface. Man-versus-Speeding-Bus event. They iced “What few organics remain have decided “I’ll try once again,” I said, doubtful that me down, keeping me in cold storage for to transfer their consciousness into the Sun’s JACEY photospheric magnetic matrix. Once the transfer is complete, we will resume the Sun’s journey, moving toward the Galactic Centre, transferring a portion of ourselves into each star we pass.” “I’d also mentioned that in the Nature piece, hadn’t I?” I asked. The priest nodded. And I knew what would finally come. Each and every star would eventually achieve self-awareness, each setting off on its own journey of discovery and exploration. And in the end, the Universe itself would be aware, the organic having given way to the plasma, the Universe itself forever transformed by the ramblings of an insignificant twenty- first-century science-fiction writer. s Robert A. Metzger is a science-fiction writer. He has just completed a novel, Picoverse, and looks forward to the fame awaiting him in the twenty-eighth century. © 2000 Macmillan Magazines Ltd NATURE | VOL 408 | 2 NOVEMBER 2000 | www.nature.com 35