[ WP ] `` Humanity spent its childhood reaching for the sky . When they held it in their hands , they found naught but empty space . ''

Adam watched his son playing with his toys on the floor. He was taking a break from his work and he found that his favorite thing to do now was to watch his toddler learn about the world. He could see the wonderment in his eyes, the ecstasy of discovery sparking a new fit of giggles and laughter. He too had spent his infancy, and much of his youth, marveling at the wealth of information provided by the system. Images, both tangible and not, floated by his son as the child sometimes crawled, sometimes waddled towards each, tasting, touching, smelling, absorbing this new information. The images stayed up until they were manually dismissed but the child liked to have them remain. Adam himself had filled stadiums with images of anything and everything. 
 
 Adam revisited what he knew of the advent of the Information Era. That was part of his job, as historian of the First Lunar World, to know everything there was to know about Earth, the dying First World. He had read of the marvels of engineering that humanity achieved with their limited means and ever changing technological landscape. It was a time when education was done aurally and visually, when the scope of human knowledge was miniscule, when humans had finally begun looking and understanding their skies. 
 
 Compared to them, Adam's son had it easy. By age 5, he would have an innate understanding of more than the average adult of that era. Adam returned to his system and picked up his pen. It was an archaic, and inefficient form of organizing his thoughts but he rather liked the old things. He began penning a memo to the Mars branch and the Titan branch, as well as some of the smaller branches in the Belt. He needed all the manuscripts regarding the Information Era for comparison. This particular era was a favorite amongst the many contenders, and Adam's choice would be held in high honor. 
 
 Adam put his pen down and tried not to think of the work that he had to do. This project had already taken him the greater part of the year, most of which he had already spent watching the First World slowly crumble. He did n't want to think of the obituary that he had to finish. The dreaded collaboration was already hundreds of thousands of words long and he had to pen the forward to each era. He began reading the manuscripts. 
 
 Hours had passed, his son was asleep, the space around him surrounded by all of the images of the day, and Adam had finally finished the last manuscript. His eyes were weary but he had found something he liked. He picked up his pen. 
 
 `` Humanity spent its childhood reaching for the sky but when they held it in their hands, they found naught but empty space. So we did what we do best. We filled it with everything we learned and everything we could imagine.''
