I live in the city of Terra, the capital of the planet, Vulcan. Vulcan is the home planet for the Galaga Federation thereby making it heavily populated and Terra very large. This being the case, I make it a habit in my free time to explore it. It is when I am walking along Terra’s shady, tree lined avenues that I am most contented.
It was while I was strolling the streets of the city on one such exploration that I came across an old, deserted house. The sign hanging beside its broken door in huge red letters pronounced CONDEMNED! No one could have agreed more totally than I.
Most of the house’s windows were boarded up to keep the glass panes intact, though judging by the amount of shards that littered the street, they had done little good. The remains of what probably had been a beautiful veranda lay rotting on the ground. The house had such a ramshackle appearance that any “sane” person would never have ventured beneath its sagging frame. That is precisely the reason why I stepped through its door.
Inside, the house was totally barren. Except for the dust of many ages that had settled on its surface. Nothing remained on the rough wooden floor, except . . . My eye caught something white stuck in a crack in the floor. It was paper! Paper had been outlawed many years before by the International Council of Censors! I eagerly picked up the scrap and noticed that it had writing on it. The writing was of a strange, ancient text, but I could still read it:
Earth was beautiful once upon a time, but now it is barren and the sun frowns upon it, for it is no longer its child. Long ago Man destroyed Earth and now is getting rid of all the history concerning it so no one will know of the great destruction that was wreaked upon it. Earth, I weep for thee . . .
Here the writing ended because the rest of the paper had been torn off. I suspected that after the Federation Police raided this joint, its owner had received a sentence similar to the one tacked outside the door behind me. His carcass was probably rotting in one of Terra’s musty prisons. I, suspecting which planet was this mysterious Earth, made provisions to . . .