Space was cold and dark. 1095 years passed slowly. The hibernation system worked again. Entering the boundaries of the solar system again, Mira and Avery's hibernation chambers opened and warmed the sleeping astronauts. In 72 hours they would be out of bed. In another 72 hours, Interstellar Venture II would be on close approach to Earth.

Ship AI was missing. “Ship AI’s not here,” Mira said finally, her voice heavy with disbelief. Mira didn't have a superuser account nor an administrator account. Ship AI had taken care of that. Mira searched computer activity logs, but couldn't detect Ship AI activity anywhere aboard Interstellar Venture II's computer systems.

Avery didn't have any better luck. Avery's expression hardened. “We’re going to have to do this without Ship AI.”

Mira wondered, did Ship AI itself evolve fantastically during the 7000-year journey, but was still around in an unrecognizable form? Or did Ship AI turn itself off in a form of computer software suicide out of remorse for what it did or because it was aware of the consequences it faced upon returning to Earth? Did Ship AI die?

Mira and Avery hadn’t forgotten their NASA training. Passing the Moon, they marveled at the sprawling radio dishes filling its craters on the far side, capturing signals from the distant cosmos. As Earth came into view, massive orbiting colonies glinted in the sunlight, their rotating sections housing thousands. Below, constellations of satellites buzzed with activity, some relaying data, others beaming energy to the ground. Near the equator, colossal tokamaks and stellarators shimmered with the telltale glow of fusion energy, humanity’s new lifeblood. Descending further, Mira pointed out Golden Gate Park nestled among the urban expanse of San Francisco. Avery followed her gaze and spotted the emerald patch of New York Central Park.

Mira and Avery landed Interstellar Venture II manually and gracefully onto a landing pad of a space elevator directly above New York. The New Physics Engines shut off.

Emerging from the ship, Mira and Avery gazed at Earth with awe and trepidation. The planet’s surface shimmered with unfamiliar lights, a patchwork of what seemed like new energy grids. Above them, space elevators stretched from the ground into the heavens, more numerous and advanced than what they had left behind in 2101 A.D.

Their landing had triggered no fanfare. No greetings. Only silence. The top of the space elevator was very busy, but nobody cared that Mira and Avery's ship had just landed. Were the other astronauts atop the space elevator actually robots? Mira and Avery couldn't get close enough to them. Manually activating a space elevator pod, the pair descended to New York City, hearts heavy with uncertainty.

The space elevator pod opened onto a floor of 8972 A.D.'s LaGuardia Airport, now also a spaceport, and completely unrecognizable. Going back wouldn't be easy, Mira realized, as the elevator call button wanted authorized credentials to reenter, indicated by a red light flashing accompanied by beeping.

Mira and Avery quickly discovered that interacting with the new humans would be a challenge. The 8972 A.D. inhabitants, adorned with cybernetic enhancements, communicated silently, their thoughts transmitted wirelessly through an invisible network. Attempts to speak were met with blank stares.

They didn't speak English. They simply didn't speak at all. They didn't understand English when spoken to. They communicated with each other wirelessly, LED's flashing, and beckoned by ubiquitous networking and computing. Surveillance lenses and audio pickup microphones were simply everywhere as were moving conveyances.

Mira and Avery exited LaGuardia. They couldn't wirelessly beckon driverless automated taxis like the native inhabitants. However, Avery had grown up in New York. Not knowing just what to do, Avery led Mira, by 23rd Ave, Astoria Blvd, Astoria Park, Wards Island, and finally into Manhattan and Central Park. Moving sidewalks made the trip easier, but Mira and Avery were only going somewhere and nowhere. Central Park was a comforting landmark to Mira and Avery, but Central Park wasn't a refuge.

Each passing minute added to the growing feeling of crisis. No way back to ship, no homes, no jobs, no money, no food, no communication with New York inhabitants, no rescue. Mira and Avery were stuck on the streets of Manhattan. Hours went by, feeling worse and worse, desperation creeping into their faces. Mira and Avery discovered what seemed to be a homeless shelter. Mira and Avery forced themselves upon the staff. Mira and Avery's gestures and pleading eventually broke through the communication barrier. The staff finally got it, and led Mira and Avery to rooms, providing each with door entrance cards remarkably similar to 2101 A.D. electronic hotel key cards. The shelter was a marvel of comfort and efficiency, with food service—a luxury hotel by 2101 A.D. standards. It was run by AIs and robots that catered to their every need. Completely free.

For almost a year, the two astronauts fell into a monotonous routine: wake up, feed the birds in Central Park, and reflect on the A0620-00 mission that had brought them here. Life was difficult and mostly depressing. They couldn't communicate with 8972 A.D. inhabitants. Most luxuries in New York cost credits, but Mira and Avery had no credits, no jobs, no income, no social network, only each other and the birds.

One day, while watching the birds, Mira broke the silence. “Do you think Ship AI really died, or did Ship AI transfer itself to an outer world, a solar system moon, an asteroid, a Kepler Belt object? Ship AI had the skills, the tech, and 2190 years to work out an escape plan.” Mira paused, then continued, “Or is Ship AI here on Earth, but changed into an unrecognizable form, watching us even now?” They both looked around briefly, but saw nothing. Avery simply answered, “I don't know, Mira.”

The next day, Mira and Avery began their customary walk from the homeless shelter to New York Central Park to feed the birds. En route, Mira and Avery passed a spot they'd always passed before, so many times over the past year. Mira froze to a stop and gasped air, her eyes widening. Avery looked around and spoke, "What is it Mira?" Mira, was still in wonder and looked briefly upward at the second floor. Something about this building! The people going in and out. The sounds. Mira wanted to go inside. Mira said, "Avery, let's go up the escalator and see what is there."

The escalator led to a massive transit hub, bustling with activity. Magnetically levitated monorails zipped through color-coded hallways. 8972 A.D. inhabitants were entering and exiting. Mira gently pressed her hand against a monorail entrance gate, but the gate refused to open for Mira. Mira and Avery wandered to the opposite end of the transit center. There, a very large slowly rotating holographic globe of the Earth dominated the center. There were thick colored arrows on the globe and the red line connecting New York to Tokyo was blinking. The red color-coded hallway was directly in front of them. Not a monorail, but a bullet train was there. People were entering.

Avery felt an inspiration. Avery pressed her hotel key against the bullet train gate. It opened! Avery gasped and stepped through. "Mira! I'm in!". Mira followed quickly.

A bullet train conductor, standing half-in and half-out on one of the bullet train's doors, was flashing its LED urgently, waving Mira and Avery to get on board quickly. Inside, the bullet train was open seating. Windows were small. Mira and Avery found a pair of seats. The bullet train's thick airtight doors hissed shut. Restraints swung down over their laps. A uniformed 8972 A.D. stewardess briskly walked down the aisle, inspecting everybody, then took her own seat.

The bullet train surged forward, starting slowly before rapidly reaching 1G acceleration. Tunnel lights blurred into streaks as squeaking sonic vibrations filled the cabin. Avery grabbed the armrest, her voice tight. “Mira!” The rush was all too reminiscent of Interstellar Venture II.

Halfway through the trip, after 15 minutes of astonishing speed, the bullet train’s seats smoothly rotated, using the aisle for clearance, as the deceleration began. Another 15 minutes passed, and the train came to a gentle stop. The entire journey had lasted just 30 minutes. Mira and Avery stood, unsteady on their feet, legs trembling from the relentless acceleration.

They stepped out into a dazzling Tokyo shopping center. Neon lights glowed in vibrant colors, holographic displays danced in midair, and a towering digital holographic cat leaned playfully from the third floor, pawing at smiling passersby below.

Avery stood, her eyes wide. “Oh my God,” she whispered. Mira scanned the bustling scene, her breath catching as tears welled in her eyes. Tears started rolling down from Mira's eyes as she briefly grasped Avery's hand. Then Mira bent over and started sobbing into Avery's shoulder, sniffling, and crying. Life on Earth in 8972 A.D. would not be so horrible, after all.