A Black and White photograph

Trevor picked up the black and white photograph out of the box a second time. This time the tears weren't those of hopeful joy but of abject loss.

Cindy stared back from the diamond frame at him. The picture had been taken only six months ago. Her long brown hair strewn halfway across the pillow. The playful smile making her eyes crinkle in that way he loved. He had snapped the picture casually, just playing around with the new camera that morning. The sunlight that highlighted half her face came in from an oblique angle from the big picture windows near the kitchen.

"This picture is only six months old" a semi-rational part of his brain reiterated, yet the yellowing around the corners despite teh diamond frame told otherwise.

He picked up the letter again and read it for the fifth time, still barely comprehending what was said. The stuffed 3 ring binder, left in the box with the food and first aid kits, supposedly corroborated it.

"Trevor,

They tell me you're not coming back, or if you are I won't be around to see you. I suppose deep down I knew this was a possibility. So much for hindsight right? Dr. Richards says that they're working night and day to figure out what went wrong. I hope he's successful but you've already been gone for 12 years and we haven't heard from you. We heard from your ship. Or rather we are still getting some sort of carrier signal according to Richards. I wish you would call us. Tell us you're all right. Tell us you made it safe and sound. I hope you get this probe. Congress has funded it... You're a hero back here.

Dr. Richards thinks that there may be time dilation involved between our end of the wormhole and that's what I tell myself. I come in every morning hoping that there's a new message from you but I know deep down that there never will be. I love you, Goodbye Trevor. I hope you are safe, wherever you are."

Trevor's eyes were misting up. He shook his head and looked over at the remains of his ship. It was still smoking, would never fly again that was for sure, but basically structurally sound. He had been lucky to arrive a few hours ago so close to a planet with an atmosphere he could breath on this side of the wormhole. The probe with the "package" he now sat next to had exited the hole a mere three seconds after he did. It had taken him hours to find the probe once he regained consciousness from the crash. It finally had struck him why all the dates were off from the packages inside. According to the computer several other probes had exited the wormhole hours ago while he was unconscious. Thankfully their transponders were still strong and he would find them soon enough.

His subconscious had already done the math and he knew he was in no hurry to send a message back home, if there was even someone there listening any more.

Three seconds between his ship's arrival and the first probe apparently equaled twelve years back home. It had taken him 45 minutes to traverse the wormhole. 2700 seconds had elapsed since he had entered the wormhole's entrance near Pluto and exited the hole wherever here was. Over ten thousand years had passed on Earth.

He looked at the black and white photograph again. There was a stain on one corner. "I'll love you always" inside a heart written in back.

Trevor picked up the binder from the box. The front page was a hastily scrawled note from Dr. Richards.
"Trevor
I hope this note finds you well. Know that we're working around the clock to bring you back but you've been gone for so long. Public interest, of course, has waned and these things do and to tell you the truth, we're having difficulty continuing funding for project Prometheus.

The signal from your ship, shows us that the time difference within the wormhole are significantly more extreme than any of our probe's data would have suggested. I apologize. This miscalculation will haunt me to the end of my days. You are a good man and will be missed.

By my estimation, this probe will likely land almost when you do. Stay safe and know that we won't forget you. Don't ever forget us!

It looks like there's a habitable planet nearby. You should have everything you need to survive.
-Dr. Samuel Richards"

10,000 years separated Trevor and the photograph in his lap.

Trevor stood up and took a deep breath of the thick loamy air. He had to shade his eyes looking up into the sky. The incandescent output of the wormhole cast a painful bluish tinge to everything. The wormhole itself resembled a whitish blue fire turned on its side, roiling from over head pointing down towards the horizon.

It was then that the portable radio unit on the rock near him began to buzz.

"Promethesezu hona kill're... Sodo freeha hiz" Trevor stared at it.
"Promethesezu hona kill're... Sodo freeha hiz"

Trevor walked over to the radio.
"This is Captain Trevor Sands of the ISS Prometheus do you copy. Over?"