Timothy Bradley stared at the large pile of dusty books perched precariously on top of the bookcase in front of him. The books looked ancient, partially disintegrated after several years of neglect, the names of the authors were written in a language unfamiliar to Timothy, the language of the bygone generation that had written these books. He felt a shiver go down his spine. Taking a deep breath, he reached for one of the books and gingerly opened the cover of the thick book.
"The total destruction of a generation of heroes" appeared in large, bold, red letters on the first page. Timothy turned the page and read "Among 300,000 dead, only 5,000 managed to survive. Of these five thousand, one in a thousand were given the privilege of being awakened from cryostasis". Timothy read on. This book was the memoirs of a young soldier who had been on one of the first expeditions to the new globe. "All previous expeditions had failed miserably" was what Timothy read, followed by a brief explanation of why the previous attempts to establish human colonies in the new world had failed. Timothy now found himself engrossed completely in what he was reading. He simply could not stop. It felt to Timothy as though his life was flashing in front of his eyes.
It seemed as though he was reading the memoir of an old acquaintance. Timothy had known this person. He read on, paying close attention to the minor details of the story he was reading. Timothy wondered why this person had not been awakened. He was sure that he was one of the few survivors. His attempts to find out what had happened to his friend had all come to nothing. He had received nothing but impersonal replies in response to his inquiries.
"The expedition had been an utter failure. The planet they had landed on was completely devoid of life. The man writing these memoirs had no idea as to why this was so. All he was sure of is that all the previous explorations had failed in the same way. The then dictator of the Central World had ordered them to take this expedition, but the dictator was dead now, killed by the people fighting for their rights, who felt they had been betrayed by their leaders. The expedition was temporary suspended. Nobody knew how long it would take the authorities to come out with a plan for the future."
The pages of the book turned themselves and the book advanced on, inviting Timothy to come along for the ride. Desperately, Timothy tried to read faster, hoping to not get left behind. The book was not cooperating though. Pages were turning at an agonizingly slow rate. Timothy tried to read faster, but this only led him to read the same passage more than once. He closed the book, this time with a sigh. The second copy of the book on that shelf had also bailed out. He turned to the shelf on his other side and examined it attentively. The cover was tattered and the title was almost unreadable. Timothy felt confident that it was the same book, but he would have preferred to be more accurate in his assessment, he did not want to take a chance of getting the wrong book.
The disaster of the next part of the book that Timothy could not read was narrated in brief. The people and the war between them had devastated the planet. The dictator's henchmen had annihilated the population with their advanced weapons.