But this was not science.
For generations, we had searched for answers. We unraveled the puzzles, the mysteries, the nature of nature and existence itself.
Though answers were found, some questions remained unanswered, even unanswerable, questions that climbed from the fog of our ignorance to loom before us like peaks of some ominous mountain range, growing more daunting, more humbling with every principle we uncovered.
And as the questions took shape, we knew, as we had always known, that they distilled down to a single query:
Why do these laws exist which govern our universe?
It was a question to end all questions, but to stop questioning was and is unthinkable. We knew, somehow, that the question of "Why?" would always remain, and if we answered one aspect of The Question it would only lead to another. But that did not stop us from digging. We dug through answer after answer until we were no longer digging but diving.
The device was our hunger incarnate.
We called it the Ocean of Answers, though every answer was a question. It read, in a sense, information from other dimensions of existence, other planes or universes, bound by different physical laws, if any. Some argued that we created these universes in the process of reading them. I suspect that they exist--though not by our understanding of existence--apart from us.
In any case, we measured the Ocean of Answers. We recorded irregularities. ...of what? We did not know. There was no vocabulary and the instruments behaved in unexpected ways.
We were learning a new science. A series of truths and patterns at odds with reality. Rumors came down from the overseers that we had piqued the interest of The Mother.
Do you know what happened then?