Chapter 333: Memories of the Past
In the pre-departure briefing, Kirk emphasized the uniqueness and potential risks of the mission. "We do not belong to this era; any minor interference could trigger an unpredictable spacetime paradox. Therefore, this operation must be kept to an absolute minimum scale."
He scanned his familiar crew members. "Spock, McCoy, Sulu, Chekov... and Magos Akira, you are coming with me. Scott, you stay on the ship to ensure the Enterprise can take off at any time and maintain its cloaked state. Other crew members are strictly forbidden from leaving the ship without permission."
Akira's massive body looked out of place inside the shuttle cabin, but he seemed to show a keen interest in this time travel and the contact with "ancient" Earth civilization.
His sensors continuously scanned the external environment, recording the unique atmospheric composition, electromagnetic spectrum, and biological signals of this era.
Although this era and this Earth were still not his home, this point in time was the closest to when he had left his home. Everything here felt familiar to him.
But right now, he could no longer walk openly on the streets. He even needed to hide his figure as much as possible; his inhuman form was far too shocking for the streets of the 20th century.
The group changed into crude clothing that fit the trends of this era. Spock's pointed Vulcan ears needed to be covered by a hat, while Akira had to temporarily stay at a relatively hidden rendezvous point.
"According to historical records," Spock analyzed in his unchanging, logical tone, "during this period, institutions studying marine mammals were mainly concentrated in coastal areas. We can try starting with local universities, marine research institutes, and... um, 'whale watching' tour companies to obtain information on humpback whale migration routes and current locations."
Dr. McCoy frowned at the surrounding environment, muttering complaints about the primitive air pollution and terrible public sanitation: "I can't believe our ancestors lived in an environment like this..."
The mission began.
Kirk and his squad members, these star-sea explorers from the 23rd century, blended into the flow of people on the streets of 1980s San Francisco. They began their seemingly impossible mission—finding the humpback whales that were endangered in this era but had long disappeared in theirs.
Meanwhile, Akira, using his powerful information processing capabilities behind the scenes, began attempting to hack into the nascent—what seemed to him like a toy—global computer network of this era, providing support for the search in another way.
Time ticked away second by second, while in their original timeline, the countdown to Earth's destruction continued.
The mission was divided.
Kirk and Spock were responsible for finding the whales and planning their acquisition, while Dr. McCoy worked closely with Engineer Scott, who stayed behind on the Enterprise, to design and build a large aquatic container capable of transporting live humpback whales on the ship.
This required simulating a marine environment, maintaining life support systems, and ensuring it could withstand the pressures of time travel—no small feat of engineering.
However, for the crew of the Enterprise, who had executed far more complex and dangerous missions, finding humpback whales in the 20th century was relatively not a perilous task.
While Kirk and the others ran around searching for the humpback whales, Akira did not entirely stay out of it.
He remained at the relatively hidden rendezvous point, a nimble mechanical tentacle silently connecting to the nascent global computer network of this era—which to him was as crude as a children's toy.
Data streams flooded into his processing core at a sluggish speed that he found unsatisfying.
He browsed through late 20th-century news, academic databases, and early versions of internet forums, experiencing the unique atmosphere of this era, a mix of hope and confusion.
The information, though primitive, carried a vibrant, raw vitality belonging to the youth of a civilization.
An indescribable emotion, akin to "sentimentality," rippled through his highly rational thought threads.
Strictly speaking, this was perhaps the closest moment in the timeline to the "home" Earth in his memories since he had crossed over.
Not Holy Terra, not Night City, not the Federation Utopia, but this "Earth" filled with the smoke of daily life, where technology had just started, and where problems and opportunities coexisted.
This unfamiliar emotion drove him to carry out an action that would seem extremely risky, even bizarre, to outsiders.
He briefly left his hiding place. Utilizing optical camouflage and anti-detection measures, he silently blended into the evening streets of San Francisco.
His target was clear—a vending machine flashing with neon lights.
Using his mechanical tentacle, he inserted coins of this era that he had exchanged with Kirk, and pressed the button marked "PEPSI".
Two blue-packaged metal cans rolled out.
He picked up one can, the cold sensation transmitting through his sensors.
Returning to the temporary base, he opened one of the cans.
The subtle hiss of releasing carbon dioxide was exceptionally clear in the silence.
He didn't use his sensors to instantly analyze its chemical composition, sugar concentration, or additive makeup as he normally would.
Instead, he deliberately shut down almost all external sensors and internal analytical modules, retaining only the most basic, primal taste buds.
He slowly poured the liquid into his mouth. A long-lost, overly sweet flavor signal directly impacted his sensory circuits.
"...Sure enough, it's still that familiar taste, kind of like detergent." A nearly forgotten, distant memory belonging to centuries ago was awakened—a taste he thought he had forgotten, but actually still remembered.
He didn't drink anymore.
For his currently highly efficient metabolic system, this mixture of sugar and chemicals offered no practical benefit.
But what he did was more like a ritual, a clumsy touch upon a nearly annihilated past.
Then, he picked up the other unopened can of cola and, without hesitation, activated a miniature stasis field generator.
A faint blue light flashed by, sealing that can of carbonated beverage carrying special memories for him—along with its active molecular movement inside—within the amber of time.
He didn't know why he did this.
Perhaps, for an Explorator Magos, the instinct to collect "data" was not limited to technology and knowledge, but also extended to this kind of "era sample" that had no practical utility yet was entirely unique.
Having finished all this, he carefully stowed away that "living fossil." His crimson optical lenses refocused as he reconnected to that sluggish torrent of the network, continuing in his efficient and calm manner to provide information support from another dimension for the mission to find the humpback whales.