After confirming with Miledi about their ship's relocation, Milanor again surveyed the room he was in. There was only a single bed in the room otherwise normal furniture, so probably only one person was inhabiting the place.
"That tablet's on though... Are they only out for while? Should be back soon then," he mused to himself.
There was a hologram tablet (holotab) on the desk beside the bed, and it seemed to be playing some sort of video on its overhead holographic display. The reason why Milanor couldn't say for sure was that it played a strange video he had never seen before.
Not from the regular interstellar broadcast, not from any vid ads, and certainly not from any AR media he was forced to get familiar with by a certain someone.
"Weird. I haven't seen any clothes like that before... or maybe I did?"
Something resurfaced in his memories. Way back from his childhood. A memory of a naughty little kid who peeked at his parent's work computer.
The people in the video... The fashion they wore... He felt like they resembled the ancient clothing the First-Founders had worn.
"So this is what they looked like in motion... how did this video survive all this time?" he continued talking to himself.
First-Founders were the people who left humanity's homeworld, Earth, in their massive sleeper ships called Arks. They were refugees who successfully escaped the wars and environmental disasters that had plagued Earth, according to the ancient record. And from there, they sowed the seeds from which the current state of human civilization would blossom.
It had been almost eight thousand years since then, and due to the long voyage of early space travels, incidents, and inevitable decay of time, much of Earth's history was lost.
Including, most importantly, its location.
Milanor remembered the articles he read on his parent's computer. They were filled to the brim with information on the history and culture of these distant ancestors. An anthropological collection, if you will. They named it the Origin Database.
It was superbly comprehensive, and no other annals matched the amount of data it contained. Yet even with that distinction, the database only scratched the surface of how much history and culture humanity had.
"Fascinating." Milanor approached the tablet to investigate more. Swiping the holographic display, he was relieved to see that there was no security measure on it. The owner clearly never considered a stranger would barge into their room, uninvited, and start messing around with their property.
Moving the video into the background, he saw there were numerous video files similar to the one currently playing. He was amazed. The statistics lines showed that there were more than 1000 different ones.
Growing more excited by the minute, he opened a video on the top, titled 'A Tour of Ark Freedom.'
Ark Freedom. Milanor knew that one. A homeworld nation that idealized the act of self-determination. A land of the free, which philosophers attributed as the namesake of the ark. Its name was... America? Or something. Milanor wasn't sure. It had more or less become a legend at this point. He tried to remember more as he watched.
The video started with a middle-aged man who seemed to be introducing himself.
"Oh?" a sound slipped from his lips. "He's speaking weirdly... Is that what our language was thousands of years ago? I'm barely able to understand what he's saying."
The Common Universal Language-or simply Universal-used by most of the human population was said to be a descendant of an archaic language called English. Milanor was no linguist, but he understood that there were many corruptions that changed it throughout the millennia until it was barely recognizable anymore to its parent language.
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He deduced the language the man spoke was this ancient one. A predecessor to Universal, it had many similarities in its very basic vocabulary.
"But I could read the video title with no problem..." he pondered. "Maybe the tablet owner was the one who named them?"
After the man looked to be done with his introduction, he began walking through the massive ship while being followed by the camera, probably being carried by another fellow accompanying him, unseen.
"Amazing... This is what an intact ark looked like... They were in space? I thought the people were in cryogenic sleep when the ship traveled the stars... They woke themselves up just to record this?"
Question after question appeared in his mind as he watched the hologram in perfect concentration. Milanor's snooping didn't stop on this one video either. He browsed and browsed the huge repertoire available inside the folder.
At this point, it was evident that he had lost awareness of his illegal existence inside this room.
Nevertheless, it was a very moving experience to see what the great journey humanity's ancestors had achieved. While browsing, he found other interesting videos like when the Freedom had found a suitable planet to colonize, the gradual highlights of when the awakened passengers built their first city, and the historical moment when they regained contact with another Ark, the Kunlun.
Milanor cannot find any video that was filmed on Earth or even close to Earth—like in the Solar System—so there was not a single picture available of the lost homeland.
"Really...?" Milanor felt a mild disappointment. Not even the aforementioned Origin Database had a single picture of the planet. As far as he knew, nobody alive remembered how the homeworld looked.
He could only imagine how much value would be put on an image like that. Something that would lead sentimentalists to go ballistic, willing to do anything to get their hands on it. Milanor was tempted by a possible fortune he could gain if he were to commercialize it, profiting off the nostalgic emotion of humanity.
Actually, that sounds scummy, Milanor chided himself. Still, while a missed monetization opportunity played a part, his disappointment that arose from the lack of Earth's picture was genuine. Originally, Milanor was that sort of romantic person. It was probably the influence of his parents.
Milanor wondered why the owner never shared these wonderful videos with the public. He was sure they would cause immediate sensations once released.
"We have reached Spaceport Number 12, Captain. I will initiate the docking procedure soon," Miledi's voice could be heard from Milanor's PAW again. "Now may I ask what sort of trouble you have fallen into in the half-hour since our last contact?"
Miledi—bless her electrical soul—had preemptively prepared herself to hear her master's presumed plight. It was audacious, and if Milanor was allowed to speak honestly, extremely rude. That wasn't an attitude a good maid should conduct herself with.
"Oh, you won't believe what I'm seeing. I found something amazing." And he chose to ignore the remark, as he was too excited to entertain the spite. "Wait a second... It's been 30 minutes?" he realized the fact slightly late.
"Indeed. It seems you were preoccupied with something. Please, do tell."
Milanor proceeded to describe his findings. "Yes, how curious. I do not have much knowledge of human history, but I do agree with your assessment that the materials would likely garner attention."
Happy that she concurred with his opinion, Milanor said, "Right? I wonder where they got this data from. I'd really like to ask them—"
"Nothin' that I'd tell you, punk. The heck did you get in here from?"
"Eh?" A sudden voice from behind Milanor startled him, causing him to choke on his words. The voice was crass but unmistakably feminine. It definitely didn't come from Miledi. "Wha!? You— When did you get here?!" He turned around with the speed of a twister.
Milanor was so focused on the tablet, and talking with Miledi, that he hadn't noticed someone had entered the room. It was a young girl, wearing a long dark purple cloak that covered most of her body. She did not put the hood on though, so Milanor could see her face rather clearly. A pair of blue eyes shone through locks of light-blonde hair that was cut to shoulder length.
His breath was taken away for a moment. He was surprised, of course, but her appearance was also stunning. If this was any other day, Milanor probably would've blushed. True enough, he could be a sucker for cute girls.
His mind raced. Is she the owner? How long has she been here? he asked over and over silently. As her head was the only part he could clearly see, Milanor focused on it.
"When did I get here? What makes you think you get to question me? It's my house, darn it. You got some nerve..."
Her face showed unbridled anger targeted toward him, yet from those sky-blue eyes he also sensed wariness and subtle anxiety as well.
That day marked the first time Milanor met her, the mysterious girl under the asteroid. It was a tiny coincidental encounter that seemed so insignificant compared to the size of the galaxy, yet the profound impact it would lead would incite him to engrave the moment forever in his memory.