[ WP ] In 1977 , the Voyager spacecraft was sent out into deep space with a message from the people of Earth . Today we had it sent back to us .

The hull of the strange apparatus shimmered in the torch light. This object now lying in the middle of a clearing as if it had been delicately placed there looked alien and yet strangely familiar. The locals had flocked over when earlier that night they saw a bright light in the sky and a spec slowly descend. Once vision of the spec had been obscured by the tangle of the forest the bright light vanished. Chaos erupted. Gathering tools and people, a party was quickly formed to investigate this new enigma. 
 
 Now huddled around what could only be described a mystery, the people of Shanty began to worry. Anxious muttering spread like a viral disease that soon erupted into loud conversation. Who, what, where and whys were being asked not unlike how they had been for centuries. 
 
 A hush came over the conglomerate as a hand was raised by Shanty's own tinkerer and self-proclaimed wise-man. Motioning a few close the self-Wise-Man gestured to some icons located on the external surface of the object. Self-Wise-Man appeared excited and began hurriedly sketching the characters into some loose leaf of papers he kept bound in leather. 
 
 Soon a chorus of murmuring and hushed anxious talking took place between who appeared to be an elder and some of the younger Shanty dwellers. An accord appeared to have been reached. With a couple quick gestures various people from Shanty equipped with tools attached the shimmering object and began tearing it apart. Self-Wise-Man attempted to argue this decision but was quickly silenced with a glare from the elder. 
 
 Metal was hard to come by and it's value was inflated. Slowly the clearing was filled with scraps of metal and hardware strewn about to be examined for it's contents. Many homes and services were going to benefit from this gift of allow and steel. 
 
 Self-Wise-Men entered his hut feeling rather exasperated. He did n't lay but rather fell into the pad that acted as a bed in the tiny hut. SFW held up the sheet of yellowish paper he had scribbled the markings onto. After a few moments of careful consideration he placed it among a pile of books written a language lost to time. Sketched on the sheet of paper were symbols not unlike what was on the books. To someone of that time they would have read the word VOYAGER spelled out on the yellowing piece of pulp.
