In fourteen years, the solar system will pass through a river of stellar gas.
All life on Earth will be extinguished.
Unless …
Eighteen months after Anye Civilization came out of the shadows — 25,000 years after arrival on Earth — a dull black cylinder emerged from N-Space near Saturn’s outer rings.
An inkblot in a sea of celestial wonder: AMV Bharamin, flagship of the migration fleet, backdropped by Earth’s most spectacular neighbor.
One-by-two kilometers. Eighty-four decks. Capacity fifty thousand souls.
Off the books, presumed lost until Oregon native Glenn Mehrenholz fell into the murky, aromatic cistern of past life emergence — thereby remembering exactly where he parked the old relic, himself, in a prior existence.
The ship had been waiting on the edge of a trans-dimensional boundary, beyond which all of spacetime converged at a single vector.
Time-arrested. Five days subjective since last transit. Fit for occupancy.
On Command Deck, the recovery party entered the immaculately-preserved quarters of the legendary Guru Masala Brahmarsi, there to find a handwritten missive, weighted down by a glass sculpture of a dove.
‘To those who come after, be inspired by the legacy of all who hoped and dreamed. May God’s blessing be upon you.’
Dr. Arya Kali Saraswati Kaur Khalsa was moved beyond words. Her husband, Glenn Mehrenholz, was not.
He told her, “What we have here is a neglected old barn, full of surplus farm equipment and antique space cannons.”
His friend Tom Bjornson, master of AMV Anuraga, agreed.
“I don’t know what you could possibly use it for, except to start more trouble.”