Channel 120 - Chapter 38: Under Cover of Night
by Mark Bollman-->
Channel 120 was written by Mark Bollman as his hobby assignment for Winter Camp XVII. It remains the seminal work of Winter Camp Fiction
The WCFS had planned for the millennial time capsule to remain sealed for 975 years, but it was less than 975 hours later when it was first opened. Had the Winter Camp motion detector alarm system been left in place after Winter Camp XXV, it would have recorded an interesting invasion in January 2002. Late on the night of the 31st, a shadowy figure let himself into the crawl space where the capsule had only recently begun its long wait through the centuries.
No one detected his passage--he had made sure of that. While it had been a long hike through the woods and fields surrounding the camp before he reached Beaver Creek through the old Gate 12, the nature of his mission necessitated absolute secrecy. Only one other human knew even the most general information about his quest, and even that confidant was not familiar with its most intricate details. Indeed, the invader was not even sure that his plan would come off as he had designed it--too many aspects were governed strictly by chance. Nonetheless, the choice was his to make, and he had long ago made it.
His flashlight danced around the cellar. "Strange how the safe looks different even after only one month underground," he thought. "Wonder what it'll look like after a thousand years." Carefully setting the three-part combination on the safe's dial, he quietly swung the door open. The artifacts placed within--that had been on public display only one month earlier and that only he knew would be seen again before their appointed date with the future in 2976--greeted his gaze.
"Here you go, guys," he spoke. "A little something extra to keep you all company while you're waiting." He slid a nondescript file folder into the collection of documents housed on the left side of the safe, carefully closed the door, and reset the combination dial so that the number 77 was pointing upward--just as the Society had left it. After carefully erasing any footprints which might betray his invasion, he extinguished his light, carefully exited the crypt, and began the meandering ten-mile hike which would take him back over the countryside to where he'd left his car.
The time capsule was now in the hands of the future