Scavenger Read Free

thirties. He looked thinner than in his photograph. Although he wore a suit, the couple he spoke to were dressed in jeans, as Balenger and Amanda were.
    “... term wasn’t used until 1939. Before that, they were called boxes or safes or even caskets. And then, of course, there’s the famous . . .” The man interrupted himself to nod at Balenger and Amanda.
    “Professor, I’d like you to meet . . .” Color again rose in Karen’s cheeks. She evidently failed to remember their names.
    “Frank Balenger.”
    “Amanda Evert.”
    They shook hands.
    “I was just explaining about the Crypt of Civilization,” the professor said.
    “The what ?” Balenger wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly.
    “That’s the name of arguably the most famous time capsule. Of course, I’m biased because it’s located at Oglethorpe University where I teach.”
    “Did you say ‘the Crypt of Civilization’?” Balenger asked.
    “Interesting name, don’t you agree? The Crypt’s the reason the International Time Capsule Society is at Oglethorpe.”
    “There’s a time capsule society?” Amanda sounded amazed.
    More people entered the room.
    “Excuse me,” the professor said. “I need to make sure everything’s ready for my presentation.”
    As he went to the lectern, Karen Bailey brought their coffee. “Cream and sweetener are on that table. The sandwiches are catered. Please, try one.” She walked to the front of the room and pulled the draperies shut.
    Balenger studied the sandwiches. Their crusts were cut off. He picked one up and bit into it. “I don’t normally like tuna salad, but this isn’t bad.”
    “It’s the lettuce,” Amanda said.
    “Lettuce?”
    “It’s crunchy. The mayonnaise tastes homemade. The bread’s still warm.” Amanda took another bite.
    So did Balenger. “I hope he talks about this Crypt of Civilization.”
    8
    The professor stood in shadows at the lectern and pressed the laptop’s keyboard. On the screen, an image appeared, showing a long, shiny metal tube that reminded Balenger of a torpedo. A group of solemn, whitecoated men stood next to it.
    “Even though the practice dates back to antiquity, this is the first object to be called a time capsule,” Professor Murdock said. “It was created for the 1939 New York World’s Fair. Its sponsor was Westinghouse, an appliance corporation with a reputation for quality. Because the time capsule wasn’t due to be opened for five thousand years, the implication was that Westinghouse products were designed to last. Why five thousand years? Because it was assumed that recorded history was five thousand years old. Thus, the World’s Fair was midway between the past and the future. The capsule’s designers announced, ‘We choose to believe that men will solve the problems of the world, that the human race will triumph over its limitations, that the future will be glorious.’ Of course, the horrors of the Second World War would soon make them feel differently.”
    When the professor touched the computer, another image appeared on the screen. This one showed a futuristic-looking building, part of what presumably was the 1939 World’s Fair. A banner in the background proclaimed THE WORLD OF TOMORROW. People lined up to enter. Balenger was struck that, even though going to the fair would have felt like a holiday, most of the men wore jackets, ties, and dress hats.
    “The capsule was made from an extremely hard, copper alloy resistant to moisture,” the professor said. “After being filled, it was lowered into a shaft during the autumnal equinox in what was almost a religious atmosphere, complete with Chinese gongs. The shaft had a cap from which a periscope projected, allowing visitors to see the time capsule interred fifty feet below them. After the fair concluded, the shaft was filled and sealed, then covered with a concrete marker. ‘May the Time Capsule sleep well,’ the Westinghouse chairman said. Because more capsules have been lost than have