“So why didn’t we come back? Well, we are still waiting. Our best scientific minds, and you can testify for yourself that their minds far exceeded your own, estimated that the devastation of our civilisation on the surface would last a hundred thousand years, after which it would be safe enough for us to return.”

“So what went wrong?” Gail asked. She was quietly hurt about the comment on Xynutian brains being bigger before remembering that it could read her mind.

He looked at her for a few seconds.

“By the way, I am not an it. I am most definitely a he.”

She blushed.

“Apology accepted. No, what happened was that instead of lasting a thousand years, it barely lasted a day. What the scientists did not predict is that the apocalypse had very minimal impact on other living creatures and plants. It was almost entirely directed at us. The Facility’s first directive was to not allow a return to the surface within the estimated duration of the apocalypse, without exception. By that time, life on the surface had thrived in our absence. The Facility has within its power the ability to propagate all of the species stored here across the entire planet. However, its second directive is to not let that happen if it is likely to cause unacceptable conflict within the existent ecosystem.

“The Facility made the only logical decision, and decided not to return us. Since then, an opportunity to go back has not come up, and so we remain here.” The Xynutian didn’t sound in the slightest bit upset about the situation. “An ecosystem is a fragile thing, and for the Facility preserving that is more important than anything else.”

“So you’ve been waiting ever since,” Gail said quietly.

“Not exactly; we see the passage of time very differently to you. I am connected to the Facility, which is constantly aware of its surroundings, so I have knowledge of the past two million years within my mind. And yet, I have existed only since the very beginning of this conversation. As for the rest of the Xynutian species, and every other creature and plant here, they are frozen in time. When they are finally returned, they will be conscious of but a few moments since they were laid to rest. We are in no hurry, as the time that has already passed is a mere blink of an eye for Earth. The time of humans is ongoing, and we are happy to sit by and watch.”

“You speak of a change of morals,” Gail said. “Is this what the Book of Aniquilus was based on? Is that why your race was destroyed?”

“Ah, the books are another important question. The books are based on true events, but should be considered to be fiction. This Facility developed a habit, quite some time after the fall of my race, and shortly before the dominance of yours, not to interfere, but to try and help.  It did so by using these vaults to send out emissaries: special messengers with key pieces of knowledge that would, it hoped, lead your species down a more fruitful path. As time passed, nature on the surface evolved, and so new samples of your ancestry were brought to the memory banks of the Facility, to be used in future emissaries.

“At the beginning simple messages and concepts were sufficient enough to guide humans, but as time passed and your society developed, more complex ideas were required. This is similar to pushing a stone: the larger the stone, the more effort required to move it. The Facility encountered two problems. Firstly, the human brain, indeed any brain capable of any rational thought, is so caught up in its own inner workings and thoughts that it is very difficult to plant abstract ideas within it and expect any realistic results. The second, and perhaps the most damaging to the cause, is that you are an extremely social species, and as such find it difficult to act of your own accord.

“Humans are, for the most part, like molecules of water in a river; each and every one of you is critical to the water’s flow, but you are individually quite incapable of changing its direction. Sometimes, however, one of the Facility’s emissaries would succeed in causing more than just a ripple of change, if only for a short period of time and in a small part of the river. The books you asked about are the result of such a ripple.

“Most of the information in them about my race is accurate, however the emissary lived in her own time, and so many details are simply products of the ancient Egyptian culture and belief system. Having read your thoughts, I believe that it changed even further in translation since then; remember you are a product of your own time, and as such cannot expect to interpret, or even translate, entirely accurately.”

“Nefertiti!” Gail gasped.

“Yes. And before you ask of other emissaries, because I can feel your mind wandering there, He wasn’t from the Facility. Good people occur more frequently and naturally than you might think.”

“Nefertiti was sent to warn us about Aniquilus, because your race was destroyed by it,” Gail muttered.

The Xynutian cocked his head to one side as if hearing her voice this time, rather than simply reading her mind. “Warn you? Well, it may have come across that way, but that was not the intention; Nefertiti, as I have said, was a human being like you or any other, and as such was allowed to make her own interpretations. But there is no point warning you of the inevitable, and consequently the Facility would not have tried to do so.”

“I’m confused.”

“You are confused because I mention that Aniquilus is inevitable. For some reason you expect there to be a way of avoiding Aniquilus, but why should there be? Is there any way in which an ant can avoid the ant eater?”

“So if there is no way to stop it, then why did the Facility keep sending emissaries? What would be the point?”

“It is not because the apple tree dies that it did not lead a long and fruitful life, Gail Turner. The Facility’s aim was simply to help make minor, and sometimes major, adjustments. And yet, the Facility has a complex, evolving mind, and what may be best for you as a collective may not appear best for the individual. So what it thinks is a good idea in the long run, may not be something you can fully appreciate.”

There was a long silence, during which time Gail’s mind raced back and forth. She had so many more questions to ask this amazing creature.

“We are almost out of time,” the Xynutian said.

“What happened to the astronauts?” Gail asked suddenly. It was something that had been in the back of her mind for a long time, and she couldn’t stop it leaping out.

“They are safe, frozen in time inside a similar, though smaller, Facility, on Mars.” pointing towards the centre of the room, an image of the two astronauts materialised, sleeping like the Xynutians in this vault that she had seen all those years ago. “We cannot let them leave, yet, because they would die, alone on the surface of the planet. Their fate is tied to that of my race, now.”

“The Book of Xynutians said that Nefertiti would return. The date it gave was almost sixty years ago,” Gail said.

“There are some questions that you already know the answer to, Gail Turner. But I will tell you this: emissaries are always created in pairs, one male, and one female. Nefertiti never met her male counterpart, as he was unfortunately killed in his youth in a place you now call France. There have been many emissaries since that young man and Nefertiti; they did indeed both return for the first time nearly sixty years ago, but this time it was the man who had the greatest impact. Not just a ripple in a river, but a wave.”

“Mallus?” she asked incredulously. “You’re talking about Seth Mallus? He was an emissary?”

The Xynutian cocked his head to one side and smiled.

“It is interesting, statistically speaking, that the point at which your species’ population had reached saturation point is also the point at which, for the first time, the two emissaries sent by the Facility had an opportunity to actually meet.”