In a flash, you open your eyes and you’re not in the tunnel anymore. It’s dark in here. It does smell a bit like the tunnel – earthy and damp.
“Hello?” says a voice whose body you can’t see yet. Your eyes are still adjusting.
You shake your head, hoping that will help your eyes work. “Hi,” you say.
“How did …? Where did …? Who are you?” the voice says.
“Umm,” you say, trying to buy some time. You tighten your hand around your backpack and feel the iPad inside. “I’m a researcher!” you say. “Who are you?”
Your sight starts to clear and you look around. What is this place? The walls are made of some kind of mud, and there are three shelves that wrap all the way around. The shelves also seem to be made of mud. And the mud isn’t like anything you’ve ever seen before. It looks red, you think. And on the shelves are layers upon layers of things. You see a blender, a radio, and a camping stove. There’s a small, dusty oven on a top shelf, way out of reach. Who puts an oven that high up? Your eyes settle on the voice in the corner, reaching for something from the middle shelf.
“I’m Zee,” says the voice, whose body is stepping out of the shadow. It’s a small body and it’s dressed completely in some sort of suit. It’s pointing something at you. “How did you get in here?”
You squint. Is that a weapon? You remember the rules of time travel: [leave this “rule” to be called out by the group rather than told by narrator] If ever your life is in danger, tell the truth. Reveal yourself.
“I’m from Earth,” you say. “I’m here to explore!”
Zee drops whatever was in Zee’s hands and you realize that it was an iPad.
“Hey!” you say. “I have an iPad too!” You hurry to retrieve the iPad from your backpack to show Zee.
“You’re from Earth?!” Zee says and runs toward you. “But how did you get here? No one has come from Earth since my grandmother!”
Zee has so many questions that you can’t even begin to answer them. What’s grass like? Are there animals? What does fresh air taste like?
“This is my grandmother’s … What did you call it?”
“iPad,” you say, taking it from Zee’s hands.
“Do you know how to use it?” Zee asks.
“Of course!” you say. You swipe your finger across the screen and it asks you for a passcode. “It needs a code. Can you ask your grandmother?”
Zee looks around, then drops Zee’s head. Zee says quietly: “My grandmother isn’t here anymore. She was the last one from Earth in our community. They sent me here to collect what I want from her house before it is released.”
You say: “Released?”
“We have to be efficient. So if a house isn’t used, we release it. That way we don’t waste the central-oxygen-conditioning.”
“But without the code we can’t get in.”
“Try … 2030. That’s the year she came here.”
You type in 2-0-3-0 and the iPad unlocks. You shriek and hold your hand up for a hi-five with Zee, but Zee just looks at you, confused. Apparently hi-fives did not make it in the migration to Mars. The screen that pops up on the iPad is an internet browser – one you’ve never heard of. And there are at least fifteen tabs open on it. You move to click out but Zee reaches for your hand.
“Don’t,” says Zee. “Don’t change it. I want to keep it just like it is. All this stuff,” Zee says and moves an arm in an arc around the room. You notice more things. A set of skis, a shovel, an old telephone, a stack of magazines. There’s a whole shelf that is just animal bones and tools. “This is what we have from Earth. My grandmother collected it.”
You say: “Oh,” as you look around. Then you focus in on Zee. Zee’s suit is made of something you do not recognize – not cotton, but not synthetic either. When Zee turns or adjusts, the suit flashes in different colors, illuminating different parts of Zee’s body. And as soon as a flash appears, Zee applies some sort of patch to the area. It looks as if Zee is constantly swatting at mosquitoes.
You ask: “Why do you hit yourself like that?”
And Zee says: “Oh, I am reinforcing my suit. It’s not really necessary inside like this, but it’s habit, I guess.” Zee tries to sit still.
“OK,” you say. “I promise not to change the iPad. But can we look at what your grandmother was reading? There are all these webpages open.”
“What’s a web-page?” Zee asks.
“Nevermind,” you say and scoot close Zee so that you can both view the iPad at the same time. You begin scrolling down the first page …