Callisto, May 7th, 2100 C.E.
The voice of BETTY, GaMEWayS’ main computer, jolted Dr. Rachel Simmons awake.
Of course, BETTY wasn’t the AI’s official name. But Rachel had long ago reprogrammed its vocal profile to mimic her late mother’s voice.
“WAKE UP, RACHEL. IT’S 7:30 A.M., CALLISTO TIME.”
She groaned. “Ugh… Come on, I was up late. Didn’t I tell you not to—”
“THE CRYO-BOT TEAM IN THE ASGARD BASIN HAS JUST FOUND SOMETHING WEIRD. THEY’RE ABOUT TO CALL YOU.”
Rachel rubbed her eyes. “What? Why me? I’m an archaeologist, not a geologist.”
“AND AN ARCHAEOLOGIST IS EXACTLY WHAT THEY NEED. A CORE SAMPLE RETURNED AN ALUMINUM OBJECT FROM A DEPTH OF 15.6 KILOMETERS. IT APPEARS TO BE ARTIFICIAL.”
She blinked. “Aluminum? That deep? That’s impossible. Aluminum doesn’t occur as a free metal. You get it from bauxite — on Earth, anyway.”
“WHICH IS WHY YOU’D BETTER HURRY.”
A few hours later, Rachel was aboard a shuttle, flying the 200 miles to the Asgard Basin. By noon, she stood in a cryo-lab, supervising the careful recovery of a chunk of rock roughly four and a half feet long and two wide.
Back in her own lab, her hands trembled slightly as she began her analysis.
It wasn’t a mineral. It wasn’t a fluke.
It was… an artifact.
X-ray tomography and spectroscopic analysis confirmed that the ellipsoid of aluminum was encased in a billion-year-old mixture of ice and rock.
There was no way it had simply “fallen” into Callisto’s crust.
And it certainly wasn’t the work of any earlier human mission. The Asgard Basin core drill had only begun operating recently — between cryo-bot cycles.
Could it be a leftover from some secret mission?
Or something older? Alien?
Or a remnant of the so-called Silurian Civilization?
She didn’t dare say it aloud. Not unless she wanted to be labeled a conspiracy theorist — or worse, put on the next return shuttle to Earth.
But still… the questions churned.
The tomography revealed faint, almost corroded engravings on the object’s surface. A symbol? A hieroglyph?
Whatever it was, it had survived a billion years in Callisto’s icy grip. And now, tantalizingly close, it remained just out of reach.
Removing it from the matrix was an option—but risky. The surrounding ice and rock could be melted away, but any thermal process might destroy what little was left of the writing. The protocol was clear: no invasive techniques were to be used before findings were shipped back to Earth.
Rachel knew the rules.
But she also knew herself.
She didn’t come to Callisto to be a footnote in someone else’s paper.
And so, as the days passed and her unease grew, she stopped noticing the cafeteria glances from that sweet guy, Brad Johnson. Her thoughts remained locked on the artifact, on the mystery, on the decision she couldn’t seem to make.
Until one night, she did.
After the aides had gone and the cleaning droids finished their silent routine, Rachel locked the lab door behind her.
She wheeled the ancient artifact from its cold vault into the center of the tomography chamber.
This time, she didn’t select X-ray.
She selected tachyon.
It was a fringe technology. Experimental. Risky. Some feared it might affect causality. Others whispered about wild accidents. One story — half-joking — told of a scientist who emerged from the chamber as a newborn baby.
But Rachel didn’t need to alter the artifact. She just needed to see what it once was.
Just the central zone. Just for a moment.
She initiated the scan.
Five minutes later, the virtual monitor lit up.
There it was: the fully reconstructed surface of the object—free from corrosion and time.
Bright red and white.
Smooth, stylized typography.
Her breath caught.
It wasn’t alien.
It wasn’t ancient tech.
It was…
DRINK COCA-COLA — DELICIOUS AND REFRESHING.
Please read one more tale about Callisto here.
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