In Perpetuity (4 page)

Swain backed himself into a seat upon a cluttered desk. “We could have brought artifacts and historical documents here, too. The Rosetta Stone, Cleopatra’s Needle, Constitutions defining dozens of nations— all spared further erosion. Earth is too volatile, nothing lasts there. Your discipline grants you an acute appreciation of this fact. On the Moon, time stands still. Hiatus.”

He swigged at his thermos in lieu of a sigh. “Well, for another few weeks, at least. Before I gathered the smallest fraction of what I’d hoped to house here, people back on Earth looked at a spreadsheet and decided a handful of temporary numbers were more important than a permanent legacy for humanity. Where’s that spreadsheet going to be a million years from now?” Swain looked toward just such a spreadsheet printout lying beside him on his desk, and let out a sad chuckle. “Maybe I should be glad they’re only sealing it. No one’s coming with torches and rope. Still, it feels like a victory for ignorance. I can’t let it happen that way. I won’t let Alexandria’s library decay again. The night you came to see me, I had an idea. It’s consumed my attention ever since.”

Swain gestured to the computer terminal on his desk. “I went to the widest public forum ever devised. I wrote to the world about this place, about how it’ll soon be sealed up like a time capsule. I asked for submissions, things that might tell future explorers something about us. The response?” He shrugged, this time with genuine amusement. “Anecdotes, fiction, poetry, jokes, letters, artwork, photographs, biographies,
auto
biographies… I won’t possibly put a dent in it, but I’ll leave a note with the unsorted material to explain the situation. Yes, for all the lovely submissions, there are plenty of things that may be considered offensive or just plain wrong, but it’s not my aspiration to play censor. Everything I receive, I print.”

Swain turned back to an awestruck Nazari. “I’m glad someone defied the rule-makers to see this. I’m going to miss you all dearly. Can you think of anything you’d like to contribute, on behalf of yourself and the colony?”

“Me?” Nazari asked once he’d found his tongue.

“Yes. Actually, now I insist. Your voice is every bit as important.”

Nazari frowned, racking his brain. He pointed to a stack of blank paper on Swain’s desk. “May I?”

“By all means.”

Nazari sat before the pile, removed his gloves, and corralled a pen. He did indeed have a crucial tale to write down. Before he got started, he messaged Talbot again. “I’ll need a few hours to immortalize us. Should I use your real name, or would you rather remain anonymous to the future?”

Thank You For Reading!

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About The Author

Ellis is a versatile author and editor based in Pittsburgh PA, with publication credits in both fiction and non-fiction (
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