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____"In a future beyond the future...
____"Humankind had spread like sperm from their testicle planet called Earth into the vast and mighty expanse of a cold and lonely galaxy. It had explored every corner of its plethora of stale solidified matter between the black abysses of nonbeing freckled only with scant specs of stars and atoms. It had faught rebelious AI, impending supernovae, ugly green aliens, and galactic civil war, with nothing but a bored clique of a billion populated planets to show for it. Then, just to be thorough, it had done it roughly fifty billion more times--populating galaxies throughout the Only Known Universe Ever Known, named Okuaka after it became clear there was never going to be another one--just to see if there might be some place out there that didn't involve the cliche threat of rebelious AI, impending supernovae, ugly green aliens, and galactic civil war.
____"Somewhere around the dead middle of the evolution of man and the duration of Okuaka was an unpublished freelance novelist named Skip Friter. He of course wasn't living at the precise dead middle an isomorphic progression of the two (what are the chances?)--nor really anywhere near it at all--but he was in such an apocalyptic crunch for time that his sheer desperation for a good topic had flipped his imagination from being indescriably underactive straight into a total hallucinatory psychosis. The peek of galactic civilization seemed such a magnificent topic that it was sure to fly even if executed miserably. It was a plan that might have worked had the sheer magnitude of the idea allowed anything other than complete implosion into the biggest writer's hole Skip had ever faced in the history of his life as a prolific siff writer somewhere between Stephen Hawking's last thought and the theme death of the universe."
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