And many a word at random spoken #1 – National Recording Registry

National Recording Registry

Examining all the recordings was taking longer than Gabriel expected, but he preferred it to the rest of the group's work. Many of them had been damaged by the building's collapse, or worn by exposure to the elements and the passage of time. Still, the group believed in this work, and Gabriel believed most of all. The recordings were all that could be salvaged from the library, and they held the best chance of understanding those who lived during the library's existence. Even fragments of sound or seemingly random words could help them understand their ancestors, and more importantly, what happened to them. All of them hungered for understanding.

He remembered learning as a child that his world was new and hopeful, a second chance for humanity; that sometime in the past, those who gave birth to his world had simply gone silent. It took forty years to send Earth a message and receive the subsequent reply, and for a time, both worlds clung to that tenuous connection. But Gabriel's world had not received a message from Earth in just over one hundred years. Gabriel's people continued sending messages, their urgency always increasing. Nothing but cold silence came back home.

When one hundred and forty-two years had passed, Gabriel's people were no longer satisfied by silence. The expedition they sent found an almost unrecognizable world. The first time he saw what remained of Earth, Gabriel remembered the pictures he'd seen of her vast, blue oceans, and the childhood dreams he'd had of swimming in the Pacific. He wanted more than anything to remember those pictures when he looked at the angry, blackened water before him. Endless kilometers of ash and bone explained why no one had answered their messages.

If I understand how they lived, Gabriel had hoped, then I might understand why they died. So, he pored over the recordings he found in the remnants of the library, even though few of them were intact, and even fewer made sense to him. But the one he had just found was undamaged, and it was wondrous, a song sung by a kind, plaintive voice. Gabriel turned the volume up on his equipment, and fell silent. The messages exchanged with Earth were far more advanced than this recording; they had contained text, images, computer data, as much information as their science allowed them to send. Still, the voice in this long-forgotten recording said more than a thousand such complex messages could carry. The ghost of a man sang hopefully, and certainly, as though he'd lived until the end of time and arrived in the presence of God.

"We shall overcome," he asserted, "we shall overcome."

It was the first of many songs Gabriel uncovered, but the rest of the expedition found nothing so encouraging. The ruins surrounding the library were all that remained of what was once one of the planet's largest cities. All of Earth's major cities were similarly destroyed, and the planet's smashed computer systems were inoperable. As Gabriel spent weeks extracting and preserving the recordings, the group's scientists found traces of radiation left behind by extremely powerful weapons. Further tests revealed catastrophic environmental damage, even before the weapons were used. No one spoke openly of the inevitable conclusions as Gabriel's group returned home. For the first time, Gabriel came to understand why his world existed, why his people had left Earth, why he had been taught suspiciously little about humanity's history. His nausea refused to pass for days.

* * * * *

Ten years had passed since the expedition returned home.

The group had given detailed reports of their findings to Gabriel's leaders, and they decided to hide the truth of Earth's destruction. The public believed that natural disasters forced Earth's population to evacuate to an unknown destination. Gabriel had never disagreed with a decision so strongly, but he kept the truth to himself. Though he knew the truth could save them, that it could secure the next thousand years if everyone truly understood the thousand before, he knew that it could also mean the end of his people's hope, and his uncertainty kept him silent. He learned to live with his lies, even though he felt like they might choke him. We shall overcome, he thought.

But Gabriel's silence had not been enough. Someone from the expedition had secretly released their findings.

Their world had never known war, but the truth about Earth's fate quickly split his people. Gabriel's leaders cried out for understanding, for patience, for peace. The weight of Earth's history must balance against your anger, they said. If we do not choose our actions carefully, we will destroy ourselves as surely as they did. Gabriel was respected amongst his people, and he echoed the call to peace, but he knew it was not enough. His leaders discovered that the citizens most outraged at their lies were organizing, secretly arming themselves. No one knew what was coming, nor were they prepared.

The fighting was terrible, made especially savage by the fact that its perpetrators were as unprepared for violence as their victims. Gabriel remembered the blackened oceans of Earth, and was unsurprised by humanity's rediscovery of its cruel capacities. We shall overcome, he told himself, even as his cynicism grew, as he saw a million wills bend toward bloodshed. Only when rebellion threatened to swallow his world whole did Gabriel's leaders come to him to finish secret plans they had begun long ago.

Even though they had not known of Earth's ultimate fate, they knew all too well that part of humanity's history they had hidden. It was only a matter of time, they finally told Gabriel, until the chaos we escaped came to find us.

Gabriel agreed to leave on another expedition, this one possibly longer, and with an uncertain destination. He had embraced those words of faith he found on Earth ten years ago, he had believed that the lost treasures he brought home would teach his people the lessons their ancestors had learned at so high a cost.

As Gabriel's ship left to find humanity's newest home, he could see the explosions rocking its last one.

He was determined to record the true history of his people, to shout it at the top of his lungs, if necessary. He knew those left behind had to avoid the mistakes that destroyed humanity's second chance. He could not stand the thought of another expedition returning to the crumbling planet he'd left, only to bring back horrible secrets that threatened to end them. He had never liked his world's name, Novo, he had never used it. Had "Novo" really been so new when its people brought old demons to it?

* * * * *

Humanity came to the sixth world that had cradled it.

They had long since lived among the stars, but they had undertaken the arduous task of studying their former homes to better understand their past. They still hungered for understanding.

Their science lacked knowledge of any other species that had migrated so drastically and survived; humanity debated the significance of this fact frequently and with great passion, but could not conclude whether it spoke well of them.

The sixth world had been evacuated without signs of destruction. Their first discovery was an orbiting satellite, broadcasting a single message in multiple data formats, including an outdated language.

"We have found it again," she said, with satisfaction.

"We shall overcome," spoke a disembodied voice to the night.