The People of Bad Sleep left galactic civilization, but they did not leave the galaxy. Their ancestors had been passengers aboard the slow ships that undertook humanity’s first interstellar voyages. Before leaving Earth, they had spent twelve generations learning how to live in space, then departed aboard ships traveling far below the speed of light. By the time they reached their destination, descendants who had set out later had already arrived. Advances in technology had made the descendants’ ships faster. Those who departed first arrived last. An unfamiliar civilization was waiting for them.
The families of the early voyagers were granted special rights in recognition of their contributions to exploration. The twelve families enjoyed the galaxy’s wealth and power for a long time. But some among them could not adapt to the world they had reached. The lives they sought to preserve had already become obsolete. People designed genomes before birth, the dead were restored from memories, and living an entire lifetime in a single body had become rare. Some members of the families exchanged their rights for the old slow ships. They did not leave because they were wealthy. They left by giving up their wealth. They set out once more toward distant stars. There, no one decided what kind of person a child would become before the child was born. Parents passed on their own genes, and a child’s face and disposition were known only after birth. People grew old, fell ill, and died when their lives came to an end. They did not consider this a misfortune. Mainstream civilization called such births Bad Sleep. To them, it was simply sleep. A verse survived in their old voyaging songs.
Though the night is long and the road bends
The way toward you is bright
I am still a tiny point
But I keep going
The worlds of Bad Sleep prospered. Their people settled new planets, raised children, and began work that the next generation would complete. Nor did they consider it strange to send ships toward destinations they themselves would never reach. They did not demand reinstatement in the galaxy’s citizen registry. Nor did they seek to reclaim the right to protection. The lives they had chosen had an end, and they did not fear it. The photon deficit had not begun in the civilization they had left, nor was it something they could have prevented. As the galaxy’s energy diminished, the stars in its outer regions were affected as well. The People of Bad Sleep did not demand the right to be restored, but neither had they given up the starlight under which their descendants would live. They did not hold the central regions responsible. Their records continued to contain voyage plans, birth registries, and dates for the next harvest until the very end. There was another verse in the old song.
The distant place is only
A place not yet reached
The galaxy’s records could not establish how far they ultimately traveled. The destination of the last slow ship to depart remained on record, but there was no record of its arrival. They might never have reached their destination. Or, like their ancestors who had first set out for the stars, they might have departed knowing they would not live to see their arrival.