Voyager 1 Down

Your Voyager mission to explore other worlds had to end at some point. But you knew that before your intrepid vessel accelerated out of the solar system and hurtled through interstellar space. No doubt Mission Command monitored Voyager 1’s interminable progress and you all cheered as it approached the Oort Cloud. Perhaps you prayed for a glimpse of intelligent life as it sped towards our asteroid and groaned when its signal died, and said, ‘Voyager 1 down.’

*  *  *

If your spacecraft had survived the crash with our dirty snowball, then you’d have witnessed us extinguishing its smouldering remains. No doubt our lumbering forms would’ve startled you as we peered into your onboard camera. But that’s nothing compared to our shock when we examined the wreckage. Your technology was intriguing, to say the least; the ancient solar panels and curious thruster system were hilarious. How had Voyager 1 traversed the heliosheath unscathed and endured its endless quest? Surely, you achieved its longevity through wishful thinking more than planning and judgement.

*  *  *

Our working day had started as usual and we’d trooped toward our planetoid’s quarry. The mining company’s owners had set new extraction targets, offered handsome incentives, and we’d worked ahead of ourselves. The new detonation systems we’d employed had fractured fresh strata to reveal seams of precious stones amongst the dust and ice. It was a bonus that made our dangerous work bearable and fuelled our desire to put in long hours and exploit any accidental discovery. We’d gather the glistening gems on the quiet, stash them amongst our personal effects, and evade the strict border checks.

*  *  *

The morning your fragile craft’s flight-path converged with our asteroid’s orbit, we were drilling holes in the quarry’s steep escarpment and filling them with explosives. There was a flash overhead that startled us, and we witnessed a trail of flames hurtling through the thin atmosphere. It didn’t take a second alarm call for us to take cover as the fireball’s trajectory veered downward and it headed towards us. We were lucky the crash didn’t ignite the rock wall full of incendiaries. Otherwise, we’d have died and your time capsule would’ve been lost forever. 

*  *  *

We emerged from our shelters to discover the source of the disturbance was a primitive spacecraft of some description. Chunks of your smoking vessel’s battered outer casing covered the lower reaches of our quarry. It didn’t take a genius to work out your spacecraft was on a reconnaissance mission. However, we lacked the experience to recognise its origins or show any interest in it other than gauging its reclamation value.  

*  *  *

When we started salvaging your spacecraft’s debris, our initial reaction was to extract components to reclaim rare metals; gold cables and copper wires always fetch a handsome price anywhere. We dismantled the vessel’s carcass, stripped off the outer panels, and worked our way through its various compartments. Inside, we found four sealed containers made from a composite of silicon and iron. You call it aluminum. Or is it aluminium? We weren’t sure after studying your craft’s records. Maybe there’s some debate.

   Anyhow, the tarnished containers were an odd design, but worth keeping for scrap money. We had no time to be delicate with them, as resuming the company’s operation was our priority, so we employed heavy-duty tools to probe inside. We prised open the mysterious caskets and what we discovered was a curious. There were four golden discs within, inscribed with unfamiliar symbols and incomprehensible hieroglyphs, and each bore a neat groove that started at the outer edge and spiralled towards the centre. 

   This was one of those unexpected bonuses that beg to be exploited. We’d have to find an expert to assess the discs, of course. However, there must be collectors who’d pay a fortune for rare items such as these. Maybe an archive centre would be interested in storing them for research? We didn’t care as long as they went to the highest bidder and we achieved the best price. Certainly, they were a special find and worth smuggling past the border patrol.

*  *  *

However, the border patrol never inspected our personal baggage because our supervisor reported the incident and the company sent their security team to investigate. They performed a comprehensive shakedown of all mining personnel on our asteroid and removed the ill-gotten discs forthwith. We never received an explanation for their urgency, a reprimand for our underhand intentions, or any recompense for our endeavours.

*  *  *

We always had a reasonable working arrangement with our managers; it was necessary to make a few extra credits, and they enjoyed a percentage for their discretion. They were a shrewd and knowledgeable team who’d seen much of life and existence, and had a galactic perspective achieved by hopping from asteroid to asteroid as the mining work dictated and the company decreed. 

   They’d all spent their lives chasing asteroids in a whirling vortex beyond your known solar system; a travelling sink hole of billowing gas and spinning rocks that attracts passing objects and scoops them up. You might describe the travelling vortex as a universal scrap yard; a galactic recycling centre, even. Trust me, the managers have encountered plenty of attempts by advanced worlds to contact other life forms. They’d seen it all before and some of those missions had ended badly for the planets concerned. According to the management, your species is fortunate we salvaged Voyager 1 because there are lifeforms beyond the protective Oort Cloud who’d feast on earthlings and consider you a tasty snack.

*  *  *

We heard later; the authorities had deciphered the messages on the golden discs and taken steps to warn your species about the danger of interfering in matters beyond their experience. They analysed the golden discs and deduced they were records about life on Earth. The sounds and images described creatures they recognised from observations taken from passing asteroids. They also discovered the truth about your stewardship of Earth and the precarious state of the planet. 

   The authorities took it upon themselves to choose an appropriate course of action for the sake of your planet. They’re returning your golden discs with a note of caution in all the languages sampled in its recordings. The communication offered some insight into the urgent questions facing your species and gave sound advice regarding your future and technological progress.

   It explained how we’d returned to analogue technology after a disastrous flirtation with digital knowhow and a calamitous reliance on artificial intelligence. The authorities outlined how our civilisation had crumbled and, after several destructive nuclear wars, reduced to settling arguments with bows and arrows. Surviving members of the world had abandoned accepted political orders and lived in autonomous groups without the influence of manipulative leaders. Our people now solve disputes through peaceful means and facilitate the equal distribution of resources to ensure a fair and peaceful world and an opportunity to recover from the previous generation’s failure to appreciate their privileged existence.

   The accompanying communication included a postscript regarding the golden discs. It recommended employing better quality control in the future – the audio quality was poor and inaudible in places because of unacceptable scratches on their surface.

The End