The Ruins of Alpha Centauri (The Tes Simms Anthology, Book 2)

The Underground

"There's no way you're from three thousand-ish years ago," they say. "That's not possible. Time travel isn't real. It's not physically possible."

"Yeah, well, I was firmly in that boat until I was time traveled out of that boat. Twice. Poor Aurora can't even control when she does it."

"This has gotta be some pretty advanced technology for three thousand years ago," they say, inspecting Aurora. "Not advanced now, but I didn't think they even had Roombas back then."

"Had what?"

"Case in point. I'm Sola, by the way. My pronouns are they/them. I go scavenging during the day for parts and stuff. It's not easy, and there's less and less to scavenge, but that's life."

"I'm Holly, and this is Tes. She can't speak, so she uses sign language."

"We must know two different sign languages then, because I had no clue what you were saying. Wait, can you hear me?"

I nod. This is humiliating.

"Okay, good. That would've been embarrassing. Okay, maybe I should take you two straight to the elders. Maybe they'll know how to help you."

Sola grabs a torch—a literal wooden torch—and sets it ablaze with a lighter in their pocket.

"Wait," Holly says, "where's all the future tech? Like a flashlight?"

"The galvaknights know when we use electricity," they explain. "They can detect the energy. They can detect heat energy too, but not as well. For some reason, their sensors aren't as attuned."

"So, they're like sharks with blood?"

"What's a shark?"

"It's a big dangerous fish that swims in the ocean back on Earth. They can smell blood in the water for like a mile."

"Then I guess they're exactly like a shark."

They lead us through Omega Centauri, which is a vast, winding, man-made cave system. Houses pop up every now and then, built into the walls, ceiling, and floor. We don't pass many people. Out of sixty houses, there are maybe forty inhabitants.

I don't want to think about what that means.

"Here we are," they say, "the elders' house. More than likely, you'll be welcomed into our community. After all, we need the people."

They open the door, which looks like it's made of heavy obsidian, and we walk in. A group of five older men and women sit in some chairs, clearly having a heated discussion over something.

"Excuse me," Sola says, "but I have brought some guests to see you, elders."

They turn to face us, stopping their discussion entirely.

"Well," one of them says, "who are they?"

"Hi, um, elders. I'm Holly, and this is Tes. This is a funny story and you're not gonna believe it, but we're from Earth three thousand years ago."

Holly was right—they weren't gonna believe it.

"Time travel isn't possible," one says, once she finishes relaying our story.

"That's what I tried telling them," Sola mutters.

"Scientists had that figured out by the year 2500. It would require an impossible warping of time-space mechanics, and a technology that would break all known laws of physics."

"I have a theory," the one on the far left says. "Perhaps they were placed in a cryo-chamber a long time ago, and they believe they've traveled across time and space using this rabbit, when in reality they've been asleep for three thousand years."