The untimely death of universe-building artist Alaric Silvershade sent shockwaves through the artistic community of the vorinians. After being seen as a rising star in the beginning of his career, for years, his work had been met with ridicule and dismissal, a laughingstock among peers and critics alike. Yet, in a stunning turn of events, the very same creation that had long been scorned had suddenly captured the admiration and awe of art enthusiasts and lay audiences alike. The news of Alaric’s demise spread like wildfire, and whispers of disbelief and bewilderment filled the air. The murmur was that the now-celebrated artist had tragically taken his own life.
Senior Detective Marcus Grimes sat across from his eager young partner, Detective Jenna Andrews, as they discussed the peculiar case of Alaric Silvershade. The seasoned investigator was wary of the eccentric artist-types they’d have to deal with, but he was committed to doing his job. Jenna, on the other hand, appeared genuinely intrigued by the mystery before them.
“Sir, what do you make of this note found near his body?” Jenna inquired, handing over a piece of paper with Alaric’s scrawled message. “I am an artist. I do art to find meaning. But if the truth is meaningless, what is there for me to…”
Marcus studied the note carefully, weighing the implications of its cryptic words. “It could be interpreted as a suicide note,” he mused, “but it might also be just another artistic rambling. We can’t jump to conclusions just yet.”
Jenna nodded in agreement. “Right. So, what’s our next move?”
“We need to get a better understanding of Alaric’s state of mind in the days leading up to his death,” Marcus suggested. “His ex-girlfriend called us after hearing the news, and she volunteered to be interviewed about their last encounter. Let’s see what she has to say.”
Detectives Grimes and Andrews arrived at the residence of Alaric’s ex-girlfriend, Clara Bennett, who welcomed them into her tastefully decorated home. It was clear that she, too, was a part of the art world—her living space adorned with the snippets from universes that showcased her talent. Though not a star, Clara had found moderate success, her recent universe creation productions garnering respectable acclaim.
As they settled in, Jenna couldn’t help but ask if Clara had ended their relationship when Alaric’s ambitious universe production began to falter. To their surprise, Clara shook her head, “No, it was he who broke up with me. I believed in him, but he needed people to believe in his production, which, as you know, wasn’t going well. When I tried to reassure him that he’d find sponsorship for another production, he was offended. He wanted someone to say this production would work. I couldn’t lie that convincingly, and honestly, even he didn’t believe in it any more. Nobody did.”
When asked about their recent encounter, Clara revealed that she had reached out to congratulate and apologize to Alaric when his production finally took off. “I had moved on personally, but I felt it was right to acknowledge his success.”
Marcus inquired if she had noticed anything unusual during their meeting. Clara hesitated before answering, “He wasn’t elated as one might expect. He was incredibly sad and sounded almost incoherent at times.”
The detectives showed Clara the contents of Alaric’s note, to which she nodded somberly. “He mentioned something like that during our conversation, but I couldn’t decipher what he meant.” Although concerned, Clara admitted that she no longer knew enough about his personal life to intervene or alert someone close to him.
As the detectives prepared to leave, Clara offered one last piece of information. “When I left his place, a science professor from the university arrived to meet him. I didn’t catch his name, but he might be able to shed some light on Alaric’s state of mind.”
As they left Clara’s home, Senior Detective Grimes seemed convinced that Alaric’s death was a suicide. Jenna, curious about the implications, asked, “Does that mean we’ll close the investigation, sir?”
Marcus shook his head. “No, not yet. Our investigation isn’t thorough enough, and there’s still more to uncover.” He paused, then added uncharacteristically, “I want to know why he would take his own life at what is the most successful time in his career.”
Jenna was taken aback by her partner’s personal investment in the case. In all her time working with Marcus, she’d known him to be extremely competent but also emotionally detached from his work. His curiosities had always been limited to what would help solve cases, never venturing into the realm of personal interest.
With this new insight into her partner’s mindset, Jenna felt even more determined to uncover the truth. They decided that their next move would be to speak with Alaric’s sponsors and recent employers, hoping they might offer more information about his state of mind. Meanwhile, their colleagues would work on identifying the university professor who had visited Alaric shortly before his death.
Detective Jenna Andrews noticed a shift in her senior partner’s approach as they interviewed Alaric’s employers and sponsors. Grimes’ questions were more sweeping, as if he were trying to unearth the artist’s entire life story, not just the circumstances surrounding his death.
The employers didn’t have much to add. Alaric’s ambitious production going haywire hadn’t left him in financial ruin; he was a competent artist who managed to secure enough work to stay afloat. Though not the most social or happy person, there were no signs of serious issues like depression. Company would have provided help if needed, it was a policy mandated by law, and even during then years when failure of the production clouded his reputation, no one had ever seen him as suicidal. They were genuinely puzzled by the idea that he might take his own life now. As for any potential enemies or personal issues, they knew little about his family and couldn’t provide any leads.
The mood shifted significantly at the sponsor’s office. The atmosphere there made Jenna uneasy. The sponsors tried to convey sadness over Alaric’s death, but their thinly veiled delight at the success of their investment was difficult to ignore. Unsure of how to react, Jenna glanced at Marcus, who subtly acknowledged the situation but signaled for her to carry on. This was the reality of their world, and they had a job to do.
During their interviews, the detectives were given a detailed account of the now-famous universe-creation production by Alaric.
The art of universe-creation was one of the most challenging, costly, and powerful forms imaginable. A universe-creator had to meticulously plan every aspect of the universe’s life, from its settings and structures to its characters and events, its rules and consequences, its beginning, middle, and end. A creator had to ensure that the universe adhered to its own internal logic and principles, whether it was rewarding good deeds and punishing bad ones, or tracking the behaviors and consequences of its inhabitants as they related to a higher power. The process of building, maintaining, and managing a universe required immense resources, with the audience’s response determining the return on investment for sponsors and the financial success of the creators themselves.
Alaric Silvershade had been a rising star when he approached the sponsors with an idea born from his dreams. He proposed a universe that would require a substantial initial investment in resources and the establishment of fundamental rules governing its operation. However, once those rules were in place and the initial resources provided, the universe would evolve on its own, with no further management or maintenance needed. It was a high-risk proposition, as the large upfront investment would be irretrievable regardless of the production’s performance. Adjustments couldn’t be made along the way to respond to audience reception, as was possible with other, more conventional universe-creations.
Despite the risks, the sponsors were enticed by the prospect of backing an experimental universe, particularly one conceived by the rising star that was Alaric Silvershade. Those were the heady days when the art world was eager to invest in ground-breaking and unconventional projects, and the sponsors didn’t want to miss out on a potential blockbuster.
They agreed to provide the necessary funding.
Even with the substantial funding secured, it took Alaric a considerable amount of time to gather the necessary materials and refine the fundamental rules that had only vaguely appeared in his dreams. But eventually, everything was in place, and the universe was launched with a literal bang. The concentrated matter and energy exploded outward in a blast that reverberated throughout the world vorinians were the masters of. Jenna was too young to remember that, but Marcus recalled the launch now.
However, the initial excitement didn’t last. Although the universe was undeniably dynamic and ever-changing, with mesmerizing colors, sounds, and energy, it lacked a coherent narrative. It resembled a perpetually shifting canvas, with paint splattered haphazardly and no discernible meaning. As time went on, the audience lost interest, and revenue dried up.
Sponsors and supporters urged Alaric to step in and infuse his creation with some semblance of a story or drama. Yet, he remained steadfast in his commitment to a no-maintenance universe. He claimed that he had left no means for intervention, even by himself. While some suspected that his refusal to intervene was rooted in stubbornness or ego, the fact remained that no one could, or would, intervene in the universe’s progression.
Over time, Alaric was forced to take on other jobs to support himself and to fulfill his financial obligations to the sponsors – of a minimum monthly payment even if there were no revenues to be had. He still visited his universe occasionally, taking notes and observing the changes. However, he rarely saw anyone else there, aside from the occasional rookie reporter sent to write a review as a hazing assignment or a more experienced journalist being punished by their editor for some transgression. Alaric had a few unpleasant encounters with these reporters.
Sometimes, an earnest rookie would genuinely attempt to make sense of the universe and interview Alaric, but their efforts only served to irritate the artist. A few articles were published, mostly discussing the reporters’ boredom with the production and occasionally describing their unpleasant exchanges with Alaric. The once-promising universe creation was slipping further into obscurity.
Then, about a year earlier, things took an unexpected turn. A rookie reporter on a hazing assignment made a startling discovery. In a small corner of the universe, on a tiny, near-spherical rock, signs of life emerged. While not identical, these life forms behaved similarly to some of the simpler organisms found in vorinians’ own world. They were able to convert external energy into sustenance and were even reproducing. The seemingly pointless, sterile universe had given birth to life, and the reporter’s scoop, though not front-page news, attracted attention.
Initially, only a few hardcore art enthusiasts visited the universe after reading the article. But what they observed was mind-blowing, and word of this extraordinary phenomenon spread rapidly. Life on the small rock evolved and changed continually, becoming more and more complex. Continuous observation revealed that these transformations were not happening out of thin air; organisms’ offspring displayed small changes, some of which would spread throughout the species. Over time, these accumulated changes led to the emergence of entirely new organisms.
At this point, scientists took notice of the universe and its small corner of evolving life. A professor, particularly interested in understanding the origins of vorinians’ own world, approached the sponsors to request that the universe’s data be recorded in as granular a fashion as possible. He believed that the universe had inadvertently become a fascinating experiment that could help answer essential scientific questions about their own world. The professor agreed to sponsor the data recording and storage using his own grants, even leaving a small profit for the sponsors. The sponsors, already enjoying a significant financial return from the universe’s newfound success, happily welcomed another source of revenue and began recording the data.
Alaric, the artist, was also reaping the benefits of his creation’s popularity. Everything seemed to be going well for him, which made the idea of him committing suicide even more baffling.
Jenna wondered how the universe would continue now that the artist was dead. However, she was reminded that this universe didn’t require any management or maintenance. The sponsors were set to enjoy an incredible return on their investment for a long time to come.
The detectives obtained the name and contact information of the professor from the sponsors, fairly certain that he was the one the ex-girlfriend had seen visiting the artist. Their next stop was Professor Thompson’s residence. Of all the people they had met in connection with this case, the detectives found the professor to be the one mourning the tragedy the most.
“We cannot protect our geniuses. Truth indeed is meaningless,” the professor mumbled as he invited the detectives to take a seat.
They were surprised by his choice of words and the parallels with the artist’s note. Upon questioning the professor about it, the detectives learned the rest of the story.
In recent months, something even more extraordinary had happened on that small rock within the Alaric Silvershade’s universe. As life evolved and became more complex, some very intelligent species appeared, comparable, if not quite equal, to the vorinians in terms of intelligence and their ability to change and control their environments. One species now seemed to have practically taken over the world of that rock. Because the data wasn’t recorded for a long time, Professor Thompson and his team didn’t fully understand all of their behaviors or communications, but there were so many parallels to their own world that they could make very informed guesses about what was happening. They started organizing themselves. Small settlements emerged; then more complicated forms of society developed. They had religious beliefs, rituals, education, traditions, and families like the vorinians. Their politics was complex, with alliances constantly shifting and the rise and fall of kingdoms happening all the time – it was all so fascinating. Ideologies emerged and fell out of favor. Murders, conspiracies, revolutions, art, music, and even their own form of universe-creation were present in their society.
“They have become like us?” Jenna blurted.
Professor Thompson nodded and repeated, slowly, “They have become like us.”
The detectives asked him to elaborate on his interactions with Alaric. The professor explained that together, they had worked on interpreting the changes in the universe. As the world of the dominant species in the artist’s creation became more like the vorinians’ world, they reached a ground-breaking conclusion: their own origins might share similarities with the species in the artist’s universe.
The professor went on to discuss the many different theories that had been proposed about the nature of the world, often found in religious texts. He explained that universe-creating artists had attempted to design universes based on these theories, but none had ever resembled their own world – until now.
The detectives took a moment to process this revelation, realizing that the newly commercially-successful universe created by the artist could potentially answer one of the most profound scientific and philosophical questions of all time: how did we come to be?
“Goodness! What does it all mean for us?” Jenna detected a note of almost fear in her senior partner’s question. He was definitely more agitated than she had ever seen.
“Are you religious, Detective?” the professor asked in return.
“I… I think I am spiritual, though I don’t necessarily believe in a particular religion.”
“You believe in a higher power?”
“Yes.”
The professor looked at them solemnly and said, “If our interpretation of this universe is correct, then there may not be a higher power in our world either.”
Everyone fell silent.
Professor Thompson broke the silence after a while. “My team and I are still trying to figure out what directed the evolution of life and species in Alaric’s universe. Why they changed one way versus the other, why certain species survived and others became extinct, and why some species became dominant. But the funny thing is that the dominant species in this universe seems to have progressed faster. They seem to have been able to figure out how they came to be and also to have a theory about why evolution happened a certain way. Now, as I mentioned earlier, because of a lot of missing data, we don’t totally understand their communication and behaviors, but we are working on that too. Either on our own, or by understanding them, I hope to have a better answer for this.”
He paused, looking solemn. “But Alaric had reached the conclusion that the truth, and our lives, are meaningless. The last time I met him, I got very worried. I tried to get him to talk to a psychiatrist friend of mine. When he wouldn’t agree, I tried to get my friend to visit him, but Alaric didn’t even open the door. Before I could figure out what to do next, I heard the news. I was still processing it, and before I could call the police, you called. So, here we are.”
After a long pause, Marcus asked, “Your psychiatrist friend will confirm that you contacted him?”
The professor nodded.
Marcus stood up and Jenna followed him promptly.
“Excuse me,” Professor Thompson asked hesitantly, “This may not be a great time, but after the case is closed, do you think it is possible for me to access Alaric’s notes. He would have notes from the time we weren’t recording the data. It may really help.”
“You should engage a lawyer for that,” Grimes responded practically, “his personal belongings, and copyrights, will be subject to inheritance laws. So, I don’t know. But–”
“Yeah?”
“Will you let me know once you have found the answer?”
The professor nodded.
“I think forensics will confirm that it is a suicide,” Marcus said once they were outside.
—
Two months later, Grimes received an email.
Dear Detective Grimes,
I managed to obtain Alaric’s notes, and we’ve made rapid progress in understanding the dominant species on that small rock of Alaric’s universe. We’ve also made observations in other parts of the universe, where similar processes are occurring and are in still earlier stages. So, I have a fairly confident answer to the question that was left unanswered in our last conversation.
We already knew that organisms were changing on that rock. The question was what directed the change. The answer is surprisingly simple: survival. When organisms reproduce, their offspring often have some random, small changes in them, mostly not very discernible. However, some of those changes enable them to live longer and reproduce more. The offspring to whom these changes are successfully passed, in turn, live longer and reproduce more. So, slowly the individuals with such changes come to dominate the species and in effect the change spreads to the entire species. A lot of such changes accumulate over a long time, altering the species completely. It may be difficult to fathom that the currently dominant species, which is so complex biologically, could have evolved from the early simple organisms we noticed on the rock. But remember that their time is much slower than ours. What is one year for us is millions of years for them. They had ample time for changes to accumulate.
There are many things to explore, and we are learning something new and fascinating almost every day, much of it from that dominant species in the universe. We have given them a name – humans.
I hope this satisfies your intellectual curiosity. If you have more questions and have patience with scientific writing, I would be happy to send you the papers that will soon be published.
Now, on to the unhappy topic of Alaric’s death, now confirmed as suicide. As a scientist, I waited for substantial evidence to come to this conclusion, but Alaric, as an artist, was convinced that this is what was happening, as I discovered in his notes. And he was not wrong. If changes are random, and survival depends on external circumstances, we are really living in a random, inherently meaningless world. I am an optimist and can still find meaning in small things. Given that we as a species has evolved and survived, I take joy in making this discovery that this is how we may have come to be. But if Alaric concluded that everything is meaningless, I don’t think he was wrong. I tried to push psychiatry on him, as any other well-wisher would have. But is this really about mental health?
I am not so sure.
Sincerely,
Professor Thompson
Miles to go... 