“Where am I?!” Teteke exclaimed. He tried flailing, but his body was restrained by some unseen force.
“Calm down.” A soothing voice said. “You’re fine. You’re okay. You’re safe.”
Memories flooded back to Teteke as his eyes darted around the dark room.
“Is this Alpha-Sen Saran?” He asked.
“Alpha-Sen Saran. An ancient colony that existed 53 light-years from Earth during the period the first human colonists arrived. Is that where you’re from?” The voice asked. “Alpha-Sen Saran?”
“No, I’m from Earth. I was Freeze-Dried and sent to Alpha-Sen Saran for a new life.”
“Freeze-Drying: An ancient process that removed the moisture from a lifeform while subjecting it to extremely low temperatures and pressures, clinically killing it and allowing it to remain indefinitely preserved to be revived at a later date.”
“Ancient process? It’s new. What are you talking about?” Teteke asked.
“You’ve been on quite a marvelous adventure.” The voice said. “Can you remember when you were frozen?”
“It was 2860… March, I think.”
“March. The name used to describe a period of time on Earth near the first equinox of each year. Fascinating. And the number you gave was 2860?”
“2860, yeah… Why?”
“Would it be safe to assume that’s Anno Domini?”
“What?”
“AD?”
“AD… 2860 AD? Yeah, of course.”
The voice remained silent for a moment.
“So from what you’ve told me, you were freeze-dried in the early part of 2860 AD, then sent on your way to a colony on an exoplanet?”
“Yeah…” Teteke said as a strange, dark thought began snaking its way through his mind.
“My my my… A marvelous adventure indeed.”
“Where am I?” Teteke asked in a serious tone. “What year is it?”
“It doesn’t matter. We’re fixing this error, and after we do, you won’t have any memory of this interaction.”
“Please… Just tell me.” Teteke begged.
“Alright. You remember getting freeze-dried, and had planned on being shipped to Alpha-Sen Saran, correct?”
“Yes.”
“While en route your ship exploded, and you were jettisoned into deep space. You drifted aimlessly for a few eons, where you had quite the series of adventures. About 300 million years after the explosion, you floated through a cloud of water vapor. Microbes that had been living there clung to your body, and after several hundred million more years they evolved into an intelligent species. They grew and flourished and eventually drove themselves to extinction, but they left behind some wonderful artwork on the outside of your colon. Roughly nine hundred million years after that, you passed through a nebula, and your gravity caused free-floating dust to come together and coalesce into larger and larger objects until entire new planetary systems formed. Funny enough, the descendants of earth-based life would eventually colonize a few of these. At several points in your journey you floated through clouds of highly charged and dangerous nano-machines, which were leftover remnants from warring alien civilizations, but because of your petrified state you were unharmed. Twice you passed within sensory-range of alien civilizations. One of those occasions started a war, while the other led to the advent of a brand-new era of scientific discovery for that species. Indeed, you went on quite the marvelous adventure.”
Teteke tried taking all this in. “So wait, if I’ve been frozen for that long, does that mean Earth is gone?”
“Earth, Alpha-Sen Saran, the planetary systems you helped create and the descendants of all those who evolved there.”
“Oh my god…” Teteke trailed off.
“Existential Crisis. The deep and contemplative thoughts pertaining to an individual’s place in the universe. Oh dear, you needn’t experience one of those. Pretty soon none of this will matter.”
“I know.” Teteke said in a low voice. “Of course nothing matters, but we humans have always needed to believe that we do matter to give our lives meaning. I know the void is always calling, but we strive to find purpose, and now… Well…”
“No, you don’t understand. This doesn’t matter because we’re sending you back in time, back to Alpha-Sen Saran.”
“What?” Teteke asked his unseen companion.
“Yes. Your freeze-dried body was far enough and moving fast enough from the rest of humanity that causality issues won’t arise. This version of you can be sent back, while the freeze-dried version of you from the past can continue his trek across the cosmos. Records will also be altered, and you’ll return to the human-colony showing you arrived on another ship. Of course in keeping with the preservation of causality, your memories will be altered as well, but you’ll get to live out a long, happy life.”
“But… Wow. I don’t know what to say.” Teteke gasped. “Thank you! But why go through all the trouble? I mean, to me it sounds like the brief period of time I’ll be alive is nothing compared to the age of the universe. What’s the point in sending me back?”
“I could tell you that it’s because a sentient life is one of the most precious things to ever exist, but that would be a lie. The truth is, I’m bored. You seem to bemoan your short lifespan, but the opposite, a life that extends indefinitely, has its own burdens. After trillions of years we do what we can to maintain our sanity, and by rescuing you, we briefly got to vicariously experience the mental musings of a mortal. To show our appreciation, we’re sending you back to the time and place you’re most suited. Are you ready?”
Teteke had a million questions he wanted to ask his unseen host, but he never got the chance. In a flash, every one of his atoms separated into tiny packets of energy, which were condensed until they became individual singularities. These singularities extended backward in time, creating microscopic fluctuations in gravity throughout the distant past. At one point in spacetime, these fluctuations concentrated into a tiny region, where the quantum energies that underlie the universe were instantly and forcibly pulled together until they created atoms… Then molecules… Then an entire human.
Teteke blinked.
“Awake I see.” A smiling woman said.
Teteke looked around. The facility was just as he imagined.
“Wow, was that it?” He asked. “Am I really on Alpha-Sen Saran?”
The woman laughed. “You’re here, sugar.”
“So two-hundred years really passed from the time I was freeze-dried until now?”
“Two hundred years.” She nodded. “Hard to believe that much time’s come and gone, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Teteke answered, boggling at the thought.