A Darwinian Nightmare

Originally they were intended to establish the first dependent colony in the new  frontier of Mars.  There was not much which would have recommended their sophisticated and complex ship to the original Conestoga wagons, but the concept was the same.  Go to Mars, carve out the first steps of an envisioned future space port, a way point for further galactic or even inter-galactic travel.  Settle down, have children, become the space-age equivalent of the Mayflower.  Even the title of their mission, Plymouth Venture, pointed back to those nearly forgotten years when the promise of a new land, new beginnings and the opportunity to be involved in a dream of enormous potential claimed the imaginations of so many.

The key concept was "a dependent colony."  Mars held no immediate prospect of independently supported human life.  For the envisionable future, the colony would have required a steady stream of logistical support, rotation back to the "main land" for some, infusion of new talent and gene pool expansion.  The ultimate hope always lay beyond Mars, beyond Pluto, even beyond the galaxy.  Somewhere, out there, was another planet whose delicately balanced ecosystem would approximate that of earth.  Somewhere, out there, the gigantic experiment that constituted the infinitely complex and ultimately fragile nature of that insignificant rock orbiting a medium sun of no particular consequence, might have been duplicated or perhaps duplicated to some approximate extent such that man, by application of his powers, could bring it whatever distance remained necessary to support life.

All that dream was shattered ten generations ago.  No one knows exactly where the plague began.  The similarities to the Black Plague of the 14th century were too close to even think about.  Then it had been the newly established and highly efficient trade routes linking the Mongol empire to the various nations of the Western world which served to nearly destroy human life on the planet.  Then, as is always the case, there was a  phase lag between scientific knowledge and technical achievement and it  proved that such a lag could be deadly.  Silently then the fleas had spread the poison which apart from the tightly linked and even more highly successful trading routes, would have limited the decimation to the closed communities of the orient.  It became the most terrible disaster ever to wreak havoc on the earth.  KIlling more people in a year in Western Europe alone than the cumulative total of the whole AIDS epidemic which happened later on in the 20th and 21rst centuries.  More people died, more cities were destroyed than in any of the great wars of even those terrible days.  Only the remaining relative isolation of the pre-technological age finally halted the ravaging disease.  Only the closing of cities, the retreat into enclaves of feudalism, limited the destruction.  It had been a close thing then.

But, ten generations ago, a mere 400 years or so, that retreat had been impossible.  The complex network of a true global economy, global travel, global communication had so interwoven the earth's population that the initiation of a highly contagious, rapidly mutating, drug resistant virus could not be stopped.  Medical technology could not extrapolate beyond the observed mutations.  There was no way to catch it before it got there.  Inoculations proved worthless.  The Darwinian processes operating in what seemed to be an infinitely compressed timescale at microscopic and unseen levels produced organisms which developed infinitely complex and deadly forms suited  and prosperous to air, water, earth, organic and inorganic media.  There was truly no place to hide.  The maxim "survival of the fittest" showed no inclination towards generosity  in granting suvival to the most worthy. 

Human beings and all other animals on the earth, were simply outclassed in survival skills.  And now all that remained of a once teeming planet, was an dull, wind swept hulk devoid of the so called "higher life forms.  The air, the seas, the rocks and dirt, all still teeming with the still mutating virus.  At least, as far as Richard, the last remaining occupant of the Plymouth Venture knew.  Perhaps the virus, after destroying all other life, had ultimately consumed itself.  Who knows?  At this point, who cares.  The old earth was forever gone and he would not go back even if it were possible in what few moments remaining of his life that he could.

Ten generations had gone by.  The original Plymouth Ventures Crew had, after a period of shock and grief, simply settled on what appeared to be the only option possible.  It was beyond the capacity of their small colony and provisions to ever translate Mars into anything approaching a sustainable environment.  The problems were too great.  But the Plymouth Venture itself provided enough quantities of dirt, organic materials, and other such things to reduce the margin of survival down to at least, a finite possibility.  They would have to strictly govern their population.  They would have to diligently conserve resources.  They would have to turn their sophisticated equipment and scientific skills to the task of immediate survival on the ship rather than on Mars. 

And, what they could do was accelerate the original plan.  Turn the ship outward.  See, if generations in the future, based on the distances to be traveled and the speed possible to be attained, if one day the dream might come true and a new home for the human race discovered.  Originally they had no idea that they might become an ark instead of a Mayflower.  But circumstances had dictated otherwise.  What other choice did they have? 

And so, they departed and simply aimed their ship toward the stars.

Over the generations that followed there had been periods of excitement and a despair.  Many social problems, survival problems, psychological problems had arisen and had been more or less handled.  But what became apparent some time ago, was that the clock was winding down and there was simply no way it could last forever.  The closed community was not infinitely self-sustainable.  Delay was possible but there would come a point when the deterioration of supplies forcing ever greater restrictions on numbers in subsequent generations, would finally reach the point where, even if a suitable planet was found, the colony would die.

That threshold was reached years ago.  And the morbid psychology of the situation had taken its toll.  People no longer cared.  There was no vision to pursue and no purpose in much else.  Life had lost its meaning and all that was left was for each individual to deal with whatever time he or she had left in whatever way that person would or could respond.  That had been the worst period  of all.   By the time it was over, the already reduced population had been degraded even more.  And the decline had become even more precipitous.  Now, he was all that was left and even now, he could feel the last few moments of his own life stealing from his body.

In the course of their travels, they had developed sensors and other equipment for evaluating the various planets they had encountered.  During the early high days of giddy anticipation, as they had sent out transmissions, "pinging" the distant galaxies, surveying the various worlds they had passed.  The sum total of human knowledge about the infinite universe had dramatically increased.  Their computers had downloaded huge stocks of information from earth before the last transmission had ceased and they had added wonderful things to it.  They knew more than their long dead scientific fathers had ever dreamed.

But the conclusion of the matter was clear.  The Darwinian process for life formation was simply too delicate.  The probabilities required to support the chains which were necessary to simultaneously develop eco systems and life forms to inhabit those ecosystems were just too great for it to happen more than once, even in an infinite universe and in infinite time.  It is simply a matter of multiplying a very small fraction by itself over thousands and thousands of iterations.  The precise balance between heat and cold, the placement of the planet about its sun, the stirring of the winds, the mix of moisture and dry, the whole "system" problem of balancing a basket ball on a pin while roller skating in a hurricane - given time and dedication, it can be done, but the odds of doing it twice are pretty much impossible.

And so - the truth of improbability finally dawned on the inhabitants of the Plymouth Venture.  The original romantic vision did not take into account the ultimate truth of Darwinian mathematics.  There simply was no other home.  And the final harsh reality was now upon the human race.  When he closed his eyes, and even now his vision was beginning to blur, the vast beauty of the universe, the glory of its suns, the brilliance of its colors, the wonderful symmetry of its physics, would lose all their ultimate meaning.  There would simply be no one left to appreciate it.

Thus, as Death began its inevitable final conquest, Richard's eyes clouded and dimmed.  But it was not Death which produced the tear that silently and slowly worked its way down his face.  That came from Richard himself.  It was the final human response to a universe devoid of purpose and meaning.