Another one. A minor brain dump while writing some Shinji Ikari raising project.
--m(^0^)m-- Wot, no sig?
Quote:2022, and six waved goodbye to the capsule, knowing none of them would be alive when it came back. It roared off riding a fusion torch, blasting towards the edge of the Solar System________________________________
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The six were long dead when it came back, sunlight striking it’s power source once more, bringing it to life. It announced its presence within the system with an unignorable blare of radio noise. Curious eyes fell upon the object snaring it up for study. It had been battered by centuries in the Oort cloud, but by all accounts had weathered it’s soujurn well.
Printed on it’s hull in the old tongue “From the year 2022. OPEN ME!!”
Ignoring those who thought it should be preserved in stasis in a museum as-is, one did so.
Inside. Images of people long lost to history. Hundreds of them. Models of old spacecraft, aircraft.... wheeled vehicles. Figurines of human beings. A well worn T-shirt. A handgun. A star-shaped medal engraved with ‘For Great Justice’. There were genetic samples. Hardware schematics. Samples of wave. And a ancient computer hooked up to an atomic battery and a soft-light holographic display unit.
An image flickered for a few moments, before finally turning clear.
An image of a red-haired woman in white/blue armour, smiling at the across the gulf of ages.
“Hello everyone,” she spoke in a softl, husky voice. “The drawback of a time capsule is that the contents inside lack context. They’re just trinkets in unusually pristine condition. A time capsule is little more than a time delayed museum telling little about what life was actually like.”
Blue eyes were directed by tracking sensors to all present.
“So, alongside the objects you see here, we’ve included ourselves. To provide context. To provide a face that can tell what the past was like. And to ensure that, on some level at least, all the people we knew and cared about will still live on within us.”
It didn’t take the scientists long to complete their work. The recordings were in remarkable condition. The formats were old, but were little trouble to recover. The building blocks of life were easy enough for them to assemble.
And so it was, a thousand years after bidding goodbye to the capsule, one of them awoke to a face surprisingly familiar, and the words:
“It’s good to see you again, Jet. It’s been a long time.”
--m(^0^)m-- Wot, no sig?