Mystery Meat

"I found a can with a picture of a fish on it. That's a good sign."

The proud owner of the can was gaunt man, just as almost everybody was these days. He looked to be about 40, though he didn't know how old he was. His companion in the ruins was a young woman of perhaps 30. Hard living had taken its toll on their bodies, and it showed on their faces. She inspected the can for any defects before pronouncing her judgement. They had already been ill before from food poisoning and their supply of medicine was almost gone. 

"I found a can once with a picture of a dog on it, but the food inside didn't taste like dog meat. I know what that tastes like. Another time I found some jars with pictures of babies on them. I was too scared to open them. People here didn't really eat babies, did they?" 

"Not that I know of. If things ever got so bad that cannibalism was common, I doubt anyone would bother preserving it, much less make labels for it. It was probably food for babies, though I have a hard time wondering why anyone would do that either."

It had been so many hard days of struggling to survive in a bizarre wasteland choked with ruins. The memory loss made things even harder. 

The man began rubbing the top the can on the concrete wall of the abandoned building. Soon, he broke through the rolled seam and pried the lid off with a knife. The pink meat in the can looked delicious. He plucked some out and tasted it. 

"It's definitely fish, but not any kind from around these parts. All the fish I've caught here have white meat when cooked. Here, have some."

The woman took the can and savored its contents. They had such a hard time finding decent food, and there was no one else around to help them. They had been stranded in these strange ruins for months. Every day was a struggle to survive. Fortunately, the ruins around them were sprinkled with various tools and supplies. They had become very good at scavenging.

"What do you know about this building? It's so different from all the others; the way it's all exposed to the air. I don't think anybody lived here. If that's the case, then what was it for?"

"That's hard to say. I have a feeling that thing with the buttons and the screen could help us answer that, but I can't get it to turn on. I think it broke when we crashed. What do you remember?"

"Not much, but I did find my notebook. It's my own writing, but it's unbelievable. We're not from this place or this time."

"What?! What are talking about?"

"We're scientists from thousands of years in the future. We traveled back through time."

Her words hit him like a tidal wave. He was speechless for a few moments as his mind struggled to form a response. The strain of their ordeal on him had nearly broken him mentally. 

"That's impossible."

"But think about it. We can't read any of the writing. All of the buildings are different. There aren't any robots here. And there's that weird pile of wreckage near where we woke up."

"No robots...you're right. If we were in our own time, this place would be swarming with them to clean up the mess we made." 

The wreckage was a few miles from where they now were sheltering. The remains of the craft were all bent and smashed. It must have been a very hard landing. It even left a shallow crater in the pavement of the bridge they struck. It stretched over a river which meandered through the canyon of skyscrapers on either side. They both marveled at the city as they explored it. It was like nothing they'd ever seen before, though their memories were still quite fuzzy on many things. 

"OK, you're starting to convince me. But couldn't it be that we were just traveling somewhere else in our own time?"

"Maybe. But then there's our head injuries. It must have happened during the crash. That explains why we can't remember so many things."  

"If we're from the future, why is it that your journal is in a notebook instead of on some recording device?"

Words were slowly returning to him. Snippets from the journal had jogged his memory.

"I always liked the feel of pen on paper. It also comes in handy when other technology fails."

"Is there anything else in your journal that explains who we are and why we came here? Or anything about how we can save ourselves?"

"It seems we were sent on a mission to study the collapse of some industrial civilization. I didn't write anything about what our emergency plan was. Maybe we should search the wreckage again."

They trudged to the crash site and began picking through the debris. It was a dismal chore. They tried turning on every electronic device they could find. Nothing worked. Suddenly, there was a bright light and a loud hum. A silvery, egg-shaped ship parked nearby. Two mechanical hulks exited and moved toward them. An odd voice buzzed from one of them.

"Hello, do not be afraid. We are from the Time Patrol and have come to rescue you. Please hurry. We must sterilize this site and our ship's energy is limited. Bring only what you can carry."

The scientists gathered a few of their belongings, including the journal and the fish can, and returned to the egg ship. They were still coming to grips with the existence of the Time Patrol. They clearly weren't from their own era. They must have detected the temporal field of the crashed ship's engine somehow.

Once they were safely packed into the egg ship, one of the robots began working the controls on the console. There was another hum followed by a crackle and a flash of blue light. 

"I've removed all traces of your presence here. Now I will return you to your own time. You tell others about the existence of the Time Patrol, though they may not believe you. Fear not, we will contact you again should you prove yourselves worthy."

In an instant, the scientists found themselves back in their own era with all their wounds healed. The only proof of their journey was the empty can.