[ WP ] In the future humans have mastered interstellar travel , bending space and time just to commute to work . A man calls AAA after crash landing in Roswell NM , 1947 .

“ Oh thank the Cosmos my multi-com is still working. ” A man croaks the words as he stumbles out of shredded space craft remains, smoke and sparks spewing from electrical guts and twisted carbon fiber attempt to light the deep night. Between mini explosions in the debris a robotic voice can be heard, “ Greetings and Salutations at this time and location, AAA has and will receive a distress beacon from your space-time coordinates 10-0-11-00:02, if this is an emergency please reply to this message on your Sapien Integrated Headset. ” The man blinks slowly, rubbing his head and begins to speak quietly, as if to himself, “ yes this is an emergency, I need an extraction, my coordinates slipped and I ’ m not sure when I am. ” The robotic voice comes back to life, “ we have logged your concern and an official has been contacted to pick you up, please hold. ” 
 
 “ Wait! ” says the man, frustration swelling in his voice, “ can ’ t I speak to the representative? ” 
 
 High pitched whistling sounds and squeaks begin emanating from the shattered ship. “ Ahhh, damn modern music kids are taking over everything now days! ” 
 
 “ Greetings and Salutations, valued customer, my name is Debrox, how may I assist you this… ” a chipper voice trumpets from the ship. 
 
 “ Yes! I have crashed my ship, luckily I was near Earth at the time. I work within the Ancient Aliens division of History Corp, I have an important presentation today and I need to reintegrate myself with the time slip with as little aging as possible. ” 
 
 “ Yes, customer, your existence is very important to us, do I have permission to track your current coordinates to speed up our maintenance vehicle? ” 
 
 “ Yes, yes, go ahead and look them up, not sure how you would ever find me if I were unconscious. ” The man looked around at the howl of a coyote, stars illuminate the desert that he was standing in, but barely. 
 “ It appears that you are on Earth. ” 
 
 The man rolls his eyes, “ yes I said that already. ” 
 
 The other voice continues as if the man hadn ’ t said a word “ you are in the United States, New Mexico….Roswell, sir it appears you are in 1947. ” 
 
 The man ’ s frustrated motions freeze… “ 1947? ” 
 
 “ Yes, 1947, very close to the First Contact, have you seen that exhibit Sir? History Corp does a great job with the Ancient Aliens… ” 
 
 “ Yes! I work at… nevermind, I ’ m really in 1947? ” 
 
 “ It appears so. In the month of… ” 
 
 Under his breath the man begins repeating “ please don ’ t say November, please don ’ t say November ” 
 
 “ November. ” 
 
 “ Freeze! ” a new voice pierces the quiet of the night. The man holds his breath as heavy boots and the click of guns can be heard behind him. “ What the heck do we have here? Let me see your hands! ” The man slowly turns around, arms outstretched “ I… I found this…. this here, this… there was… ” the man swallows and looks like he has made up his mind about something. “ there was a little green thing.. man… thing, over there! ” one hand points to a nearby ridge. The ring of booted men glance in that direction as the man reaches down to the ship and flips a switch. 
 
 “ Sir? Are you there? Did you see the First Contact? ” the chipper, helpful voice says in his ear. 
 
 “ I AM the First Contact. ” The man answers back, smiling to himself. Wait till the other guys in the Ancient Aliens division hear about this! 

