2-4-2473
Call me Ishmael. Some
years ago, never mind how long precisely, having little or no money in my purse
and nothing in particular to interest me on this planet, I thought I would take
off in a spacecraft of government design, and hurtle around the galaxy for a
while to see if there was anything going on out there in the inky endless void
we call “space.”
It turned out
there wasn’t much of anything going on out there, at least not according to my
instrument panels as my craft hurtled past one planetary system after
another. I did this for some 250 years,
give or take a decade. (That’s 250 years
in real time by the way, which affected my aging process very little since I
spent the majority of that time in a peaceful cryogenic slumber) Then I awoke
one day for my yearly spacecraft maintenance duties and, finding the instrument
panel still devoid of discoveries indicative of extra-terrestrial life, I
decided to set a course back towards Earth, having absolutely no idea what sort
of madness I would encounter upon my arrival.
I was now light years away from home, and at maximum warp it would take
my craft 50 years to get there, so I set it on a direct heading, had a nice hot
dinner of spaghetti with meat sauce and garlic bread from the molecular
reassembler device, and climbed back into my cryo-chamber.
And so the time
passed. As usual I was awoken once a
year to do standard spacecraft maintenance, and to simply stretch my legs for a
bit before climbing back into the sleep pod.
As I typically spend about an hour awake each year, my return journey seemed
to take no more than a couple days, though over 50 years passed. When I was woken up the last time it turned
out I only had a week left before arriving at Earth, so I decided to stay up
and watch the approach of my home planet.
It is not the same planet that I left behind in 2123. The oceans seem to have nearly taken over the
globe. There are no signs of polar
caps. I do not recognize the small
island continents. The large mostly blue
orb gets bigger and bigger until it is all I can see. I am through the atmosphere. I see a small group of islands far off to
my left and I try to track in in my mind as the ocean rushes up to greet me. My craft splashes in. It is a very smooth landing.
Now my craft is
adrift in the ocean, having, as promised by the agency that sent me out into
space, converted quite nicely into a submersible water craft. I just came back inside from my rather
luxurious deck, where I’ve been sitting for a couple hours now, looking about,
and seeing nothing but water as far as my eyes can detect in any direction. My instrument panel says I should be near
Japan, but so far I have seen nothing.
No islands. No boats. No aircraft.
It’s very warm, though it’s supposed to be February in the North
Pacific. As I record this entry in my log I am a little over 332 years old,
though I don’t look a day over 30. It
seems sleeping in the cryogenic chamber so much not only slows my aging
process, it actually reverses it! I’ve figured this out because if I really do
the math, adding up how many years I’ve been alive but subtracting the years
I’ve been in cryogenic sleep mode, I should appear to be around 50 years old. (I guess I’m gonna have to keep that thing
around.) I’m sitting in what could, I
suppose, be called my “captain’s” chair though such a designation is fairly
meaningless, as I don’t have any crew. (Well,
other than Doctor Green, but he’s a robot.
Well sort of. Actually he is a
preserved human brain with giant metallic spider like contraption built around
him. The brain I’m told is of a 20th
century human being who’s profession was something called a “Catfight
Artist.” (He drew pictures of women
fighting each other.) I’m not sure what
use that will be, but he is friendly, funny, and knows a lot about early Earth
history not to mention pop culture of his own time period. And all the many appendages his large spider
like chassis is equipped with have come in handy. I could never ask for a more effective assistant,
body guard, guide and companion.
The date is February 4th, 2473, assuming my
chronometer is accurate, and I have no reason to believe it isn’t.
2-5-2473
There is definitely life here. I saw some birds fly by earlier today as I
was reclining on my deck, and there are also fish in the ocean. I’ve considered trying to catch something to
eat, but the molecular re-organizer continues to function perfectly, and with
it I can make any type of food I can imagine, though admittedly my culinary tastes
are pretty plain. (Sometimes I even get
a craving for a good old “McDonald’s Cheeseburger”, and though I don’t
understand entirely how it works, the machine can produce something that looks
and tastes exactly like it, complete with the paper wrapper, which of course I
throw back into the intake chamber to be disassembled once again. (No sense
littering, or wasting raw materials.) When
I’m not eating, or trying to figure out what I want to eat I spend most of my
time just relaxing there on my deck, reading books that I packed with me when I
left Earth over 3 centuries ago, and staring out across the water. It’s very
peaceful, and a nice change from the cold dark vacuum of space, though I admit
I long for human company.
This is now two days in a row I have managed to come back into the ship however and record a log entry, which is a task I neglected frequently during my space travels, and one I do not intend to miss again for however long I happen to continue living.
It is substantially earlier than the normal time of day when
I make my log entry, in fact it is just after sunrise, but something of
substantial importance has just occurred:
I have spotted what appears to be LAND!
It’s still far off on the horizon, and from this distance appears like a
large flat disk lying on the horizon between the sea and the sky. If there are inhabitants living on it, I see
no reason to alarm them by increasing the speed of my approach. Without going back down into the ship to
check my instruments I can’t really warrant a guess as to how big it is or how
far away. I’ve brought Doctor Green out
onto the deck with me to create an image of it, as this could be a landmark
moment of my existence. I’m going to sit
here and enjoy the view for a while, and enjoy my breakfast. I set the molecular reorganizer to create
something called “Corn Flakes” with milk and toast. It is quite delicious. Much of my information on what is good to eat
I get first hand from Doctor Green who seems to be some sort of culinary expert. For instance, in my time on the planet there
was no longer any such thing as McDonald’s, macaroni and cheese, or Coca Cola,
but he has been able to program the reassembler to produce all those tasty
treats and more.
Now I’m down in the comfort of the control room of my
submersible. My long distance scanner is
showing me something I can hardly believe.
The land mass ahead of me appears to be a perfect circle, and it is quite
large. It is also teaming with life
forms, many of which do appear to be humanoid if my readings are correct. I am going back up to the deck now to watch
my approach.
It is now several hours later. I am again sitting in my
“captain’s chair,” writing in my journal.
Shortly after my last entry, as I was sitting on my deck, a small craft
approached me, piloted by two women. The
women were Japanese, or seemed to be from my own approximation. I have learned some interesting facts about
the planet, which I now wish to hurriedly scrawl down.
1.) (And most
important, at least for me) It seems I am the ONLY man on the planet! My visitors were extremely excited to see me,
and explained to me that the last known males died about 100 years ago.
2.) A virus called the XY virus infected the entire population of the planet approximately 150 years ago. Nobody died from it, but once it had spread throughout the world’s population, no more male children were ever born. All the frantic and desperate attempts to stave this off failed. Only one achievement allowed the human race to continue. A way was discovered for women to clone themselves. Unfortunately by this time the last remaining males had passed away.
3.) Lots of other stuff happened that affected the world and made it what it is today, most notably a 3rd world war, and complete ice cap meltdown. Only extremely advanced technological achievements have allowed for there to even be any people (or land for them to live on.)
4.) The large island
I am approaching is now known as New Japan. It is in fact a perfect circle, and
can mostly be described now as a manmade construct. The shores are in fact cliffs that rise some
100 feet above sea level, and this has been done on purpose to prevent
flooding, a system which my visitors explained to me has been used throughout
the entire world (or what is left of it)
We arrive in New Japan.
The technology is astounding. My
boat enters a sort of water elevator and we are carried up and over the side of
the wall. New Japan is more of a bowl
then a raised island. As soon as we
arrive a police escort is there to greet us.
I remain calm. I know nothing of
the customs of these women. I wish to
follow whatever rules they have and I try my best to explain this. They ae somewhat alarmed by Doctor Green at
first, but he is quite charming when he wants to be, and assures the women he
is no harm to anyone. Also I don’t
really want to be out wandering around without him.
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