by Bud Sparhawk
Two figures appeared between two spiral galaxies, and looking neither right nor left at so common a view, the Chief Philosopher remarked, "I cannot believe I've permitted this profligate wasteful project to continue for so long." He wiggled his dark brows, an atavism that he'd carefully engineered to heighten an already fierce visage appropriate to the Imperator of all Humankind and High and Low Justice in One.
Zeron, the Supreme Scientist, Single Leader of All Man's Scientific Endeavor, and Coordinator of All Knowledge, nodded sagely at the criticism. "One cannot deny it has be such an immense an effort, Xeres. But we've had our reasons for continuing the effort."
They were so engrossed in their conversation that neither noticed the slight stickiness as they passed the event horizon of a black hole.
The Chief Philosopher rumbled; "Perhaps so, but..."
"Let me tell you instead of where we now stand, rather than rail at the past." Zeron idly brushed aside a dead star, which had inexplicably drifted into their way. "Over the last twenty thousand years we have been steadily bringing the simulation closer and closer to the original state of the universe. Ah, here we are." He stopped and warped the fabric of the universe to displace them out of the prosaically named "near" group of galaxies to the universe's center of mass, once thought to be the origin of the "big bang." His gesture was as unconscious as opening a door.