“We are Galaxia.”

Tempor Solten did not actually hear the words. It was more of an echo from some deep recess of his mind. As part of Galaxia, a galaxy spanning conglomeration of the minds and senses of not only human and robotic minds but also of lower animals and plants, even the planets and suns contributed in a small way to the overall consciousness, Tempor was always aware of that echo.

He didn’t like it.

It was not easy to block out the echo. Tempor knew from long experience exactly how difficult it was to maintain his solitude for more than a few hours at a time. The sheer force of septillions of minds bearing down on him made it a daunting task. A task that he labored at whenever he could gather together the necessary mental resources.

As part of Galaxia, it was also impossible for Tempor to hide his reluctance to participate in the common consciousness. Many times his mentor Willo Ober had counseled him, questioned him on his antisocial behavior and always with the same result.

“It invades my mind," Tempor said. He deliberately spoke in Galactic Standard instead of allowing her access to his mind, in an attempt to enhance his argument and, partly, to annoy Willo.

“It pushes at me, makes me feel like I’m in some archaic prison with no way out, no way to shut out the noise.”

Gracefully, Willo Ober sat on a large rock giving the impression that she did not want to disturb the surface layer of molecules. Tempor laughed inside, thinking to himself, “We have been reduced to being polite to rocks.”

“Tempor, we understand your feelings. We…”

“Willo, you and the rest understand nothing. You have no idea what it’s like to be inside my mind. To feel the almost unbearable weight of all the minds touching mine. I know I am different. I know I don’t fit in. I know I don’t belong.”

“But how can you not? From the dust between the stars to the central black hole to the most complex robotic and human minds, Galaxia exists as a whole.

How can you not be a part of that? Of all Galaxia, you are the only such deviation we detect and we are concerned.”

“Willo, when I allow Galaxia in, I sense your concern but it still does not ease my sense of not belonging” and, with a pained look on his face, Tempor turned and walked away.

“You!!!”

If Tempor had said it aloud it would have been a shout of surprise and shock. Instead, his thoughts registered upon the mind of his visitor, who, while quite used to the leaps and dances of the human mind, merely asked, “May I enter?”

Recovering slightly from his initial shock and barely remembering his manners, Tempor whispered a rather weak, “Of course, please.”

Lowering himself into the offered chair, the visitor allowed his senses to take in the modest yet comfortable home, located as it was near the top of a rather large hill which Tempor thought more a failed mountain than a hill.

“Tempor", the visitor began in a pleasant if emotionless voice, “I have been aware of you for sometime.”

“I?", Tempor replied. “Don’t you mean We?"

“No, Tempor, I mean I. I am speaking as an individual and not as part of Galaxia.”

“You can shut it out?", Tempor almost shouted the words.

“I can and it is something you will have to learn.”

Pointing to the chair across the table the visitor motioned for Tempor to be seated and then began to speak again. Tempor detected a subtle change in the voice. Still emotionless to the ear but on a very subtle level to the mind, an impression of some great import.

“This story may take some time so please bear with me and forgive me for any interruption of your day.”

“As you know, centuries ago, there existed a vast galactic empire. Made up of millions of worlds and almost uncountable numbers of humans. The Empire was collapsing. A man, a very special man, saw the collapse coming.”

“You’re speaking of Hari Seldon.”

“You also know then, that Hari Seldon developed Psychohistory which was used to guide Man’s progress through several centuries. Later it was abandoned when Galaxia was chosen as the future course of human society.”

“All of Galaxia knows that", responded Tempor who was beginning to wonder where this was all going.

“What Galaxia doesn’t know is why.", the visitor’s voice giving the impression of a whisper.

“It’s gone!", Tempor exclaimed. “I don’t feel it. Galaxia is gone!”

“You’re blocking it!”

“Yes, I don’t wish Galaxia to be part of our conversation. Even after I leave, that part of your mind will not be available to Galaxia. Consider it a gift. With another small adjustment you will be able to use that part of your mind to block Galaxia with no more effort than it takes for you to sustain your heart rate.”

With his curiosity winning out over his civility, Tempor blurts out, “Why are you doing this? What is this all about?”

“Please allow me to continue the story and all will become clear. I’m afraid it’s a habit I acquired from an old partner of mine who, in the course of his work, often saved the day by telling stories.”

“What Galaxia doesn’t know is that Pyschohistory was flawed. It was flawed in so subtle a manner that no one ever discovered the truth, including Seldon. Psychohistory, according to Hari Seldon, was developed on two basic assumptions. The assumptions being that Psychohistory would only work if it involved great masses of individuals numbering in the millions or more and that the masses were not aware of the existence of Psychohistory.”

“Again,” said Tempor, “nothing new here.”

“The Subtle Flaw, as I’ve come to call it, is where Psychohistory fails.

The unspoken assumption of Psychohistory is that those masses of individuals had to be human beings", the visitor then became silent waiting for Tempor’s response.

Tempor was about to say that everyone knows that but then, with a sudden clarity, realized that no one knew that.

“I understand the reasoning behind that,” said Tempor, “But what of it? There are only humans in our galaxy.”

“That is true," said the visitor, “There are nothing but humans in our galaxy.”

Tempor detected the emphasis on the word “our” and somehow knew that emphasis was suggesting something he had never considered and so immense in its implications that he could do nothing but stare at his visitor with the look of a child first discovering the world around him.

“We are not alone in the universe.” the visitor replied to Tempor’s unspoken question.

Still reeling from the sudden overload of information and almost wishing for the sometimes soothing touch of Galaxia, Tempor managed to ask, “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because," the visitor replied, “you are to be our ambassador.”

“Ambassador? Ambassador to what?”

“To all the others like Galaxia.", the visitor replied.

“Why me?”

The visitor began speaking again as if already knowing the question would be asked, “Because, of all the minds in Galaxia, yours is unique. I have waited for a mind like yours. A mind that not only desired time away from Galaxia’s influence but also strong enough to resist it if only for hours at a time.”

“Why is that important? Shouldn’t the ambassador represent all of Galaxia and therefore be in touch with Galaxia?”

“No, and that is precisely why I have chosen you. Until we are sure of the intent of our galactic neighbors they must not be allowed to touch the mind of Galaxia.”

Feeling the weight of destiny suddenly pressing on him and not sure he wanted this burden anymore than he wanted the burden of Galaxia asked almost in desperation, “Why not you? Your mind is far more powerful than mine. You can already block out Galaxia. Why me?”

“Your mind is unique in another way. You posses the full range of human emotions and have a creative element to your mind that I do not. I have learned over the years to express certain emotional states when the situation warranted it but it is not the same. My creative abilities in some ways are even worse.”

“Come, walk with me and let us plan the future of Galaxia.”

Tempor opened his mind and let it expand outward. His consciousness rode on the crest of the combined mental resources of a galaxy. Tempor felt himself dwindling as his mind began to touch the reaches of intergalactic space. With a brief twist of his mind he looked back and saw the whole of the Milky Way, the whole of Galaxia, and then continued on into the emptiness between the galaxies.

His mind followed the tendrils of cosmic dust that surrounded his galaxy.

His consciousness expanding deeper and deeper into the void. If not for the mental support of Galaxia his mind would have broken under the strain of the expansion of his conciousness and then…

Touch! The softest of touches pressed against Tempor’s expanded mind.

Tempor halted the expansion of his consciousness and waited.

“Welcome!”

Tempor felt the thought and his expanded mind interpreted the thought as “Welcome!”

A sincere and gentle welcome. As if two life long friends had been reunited after years of separation. Tempor felt the welcome familiar.

Similar to the way the touch of Galaxia felt when he allowed it in.

Tempor allowed a thought to escape, “Who are you?”

“We are Galaxia. We are the Galaxia of our galaxy. We have felt your presence and have waited a long time to welcome you into the assemblage of unified galaxies.”

“There are more?", Tempor asked.

“Countless more. The universe is aging and as it ages more and more galaxies find their way to a common consciousness and then eventually find their way to the others as you have. You have come as a one and not the whole. Do you speak for all?”

“Forgive our caution. We did not know what to expect.”

“You are not unique in this. Many, including us, first contacted the others such as you have. You will find, however, that no galaxy can attain commonality while harboring thoughts of hate and rage. All are at peace.”

Tempor felt the truth in it all.

“Where do we go from here?", Tempor asked.

In reply, the other Galaxia opened its thoughts to Tempor. Tempor’s mind was flooded with millennia of history, thoughts, lives and deaths and the coming of its commonality. In the end the only difference between the two Galaxias was the history and not the outcome.

“Now, allow us to introduce you to all the others.”

Tempor and the rest of Galaxia met the others. The others who helped shape the destiny of the universe. Who served as guardians, sometimes helping a galaxy reach commonality and even though it had never happened, always on watch for a galaxy who may reach their level and not be at peace.

The universe was old, ancient, almost beyond ancient and it was dying.

Entropy had taken the ultimate toll and it was winding down to a cold, dark emptiness. There was not enough within the universe to halt the expansion and prevent the final decay.

Within the thoughts of all the unified galaxies a common thread expanded out to fill the universe, “Let us join together, let it not end this way!”

The gathering reached out and drew together and the minds of the universe became one. It reached out and gathered the universe together. Every particle responded to the call. As the universe came together, the closeness gave even greater power to the unified galaxies and with no thought of their own demise, filled only with a consuming desire to recreate that which had sustained them for so long, the Guardians Of Destiny imparted the last of their energy and the spark of creation joined with the mass of the universe and, once again, expanded outward to fill the void.

Disclaimer: The characters and situations in this story are the legal property of the Estate of Isaac Asimov. This story is in no way intended as a challenge to that ownership, and is offered solely for entertainment purposes.