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"Yeah, well, just remember once you open the seal on the universe, you can’t get your money back." They turned a corner. "And speaking of making universes, with particle accelerators we may eventually be able to create daughter universes, budding off from this one. Of course, we won’t create a full-blown universe, with stars and galaxies; we’d just create an appropriate singularity, like the one that our universe burst forth from in the big bang, and then the new universe will make itself from that.

Physics says it’s possible — and I rather suspect it’s only a matter of time before someone successfully does it."

"I get it," said Don. "If you take a step back, that means we could be living in a universe created by a scientist in some parent universe’s particle accelerator."

"Exactly!" said Sarah. "And, look, you know I love following all those debates in the U.S. about the teaching of evolution and intelligent design. Well, I’m an evolutionist — you know that — but I don’t agree with the testimony that the scientists on the evolution side keep giving. They keep saying that science cannot admit supernatural causes, by which they mean that any scientific explanation has to, by definition, be limited to causes intrinsic to this universe."

"What’s wrong with that?"

"Everything is wrong with it," she said. "That definition of science prevents us from ever concluding that we are the product of the work of other scientists, working in a reality above this one. It leaves us with the cockeyed mess of having a scientific worldview that on the one hand freely acknowledges that we will eventually be able to simulate reality perfectly, or maybe even create daughter universes, but on the other hand is constrained against ever allowing that we ourselves might exist in one of those things."

"Maybe science isn’t interested in that question simply because it doesn’t really answer anything," Don said. "I suspect somebody like Richard Dawkins would say, so what if we are the creation of some other intelligent being? That doesn’t answer the question of where that other intelligent being came from."

"But science — and in particular, evolutionary science, which is Dawkins’s forte — is largely about tracing lineages, and filling in the stages. If you took a comparable view of evolution, you’d have to say that wondering whether birds really evolved from dinosaurs is a dumb question to bother with, as is wondering whether Lucy was one of our ancestors, since the only truly interesting question is how the original, common ancestor of all life came into being. That’s wrong; it’s one interesting question, but it’s hardly the only one worth asking. Whether we live in a created universe is an inherently interesting question, and it’s worthy of scientific investigation. And if a creator does exist, or if a race becomes such a creator itself, that immediately raises the moral question of what, if any, accountability or obligation the creations have to that creator — and the flipside, and the part that I think we don’t spend nearly enough time debating, which is what if any accountability or obligation our possible creator has to us," Don took a big step sideways, and looked up at the dark sky. "Hey, God," he said, "be careful with your aim…"

"No, seriously," said Sarah. "Technology gives a species the power to prevent life, to create life, to take life on scales small and large; technology ultimately gives the power to be what we would call Gods, and, even if our definition of science is blind to it, it raises the possibility that what we are is the result of the work of some other being that would, by virtue of having created us, also deserve that term God. Doesn’t mean we have to worship it — but it does mean that we, and any other technologically advanced race, will have to deal with ethical questions related both to potentially being Gods ourselves and potentially being the children of Gods."

They jogged across the street, beating an oncoming car. "And so the aliens from Sigma Drac wrote to us asking for our advice?" asked Don. He shook his head.

"Heaven help them."

<p>Chapter 26</p>

Sarah had said one of the appeals of becoming young again would be having time to read all the great books. Don couldn’t quite say that the book he was looking at now — a thriller of the type that would have been sold in drug-store spinner racks when he’d been young the first time — was great, but it was a pleasure to be able to read for hours without getting eye fatigue, and without having to put on his cheaters.

Still, eventually, he did get bored with the book, and so he had his datacom scan the TV listings for anything that might interest him, and—

"Hey," he said, looking up from the list the device had provided, "Discovery is showing that old documentary about the first message."

Sarah, seated on the couch, looked over at him; he was leaning back in the chair.

"What old documentary?" she said.

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