I, relic

“So, you say people used to sit on these things?”

“Yes professor,” said Marty, the Curatorbot. “They were mostly the province of teenagers. Dr. Hadley has uploaded a file offering an opposing opinion.”

Professor Tark stroked his beard. “I’ll bet she has, she’s always got to be the one who dissents. What’s her theory?”

The robot’s chrome surface shimmered. “The soft surface of the devices. The relative ease of movement. These factors have led her to conclude that they were more commonly found in what were called ‘old people’s homes.’”

“Ahh, yes,” he said. “You know, I’ve never bought in to that fashionable theory about people aging. It’s as bad as that crackpot idea about pens. Imagine, writing words down!” He laughed and pointed to the next case. “What’s that?”

“A communication device,” said Marty. “Called an ‘Ip-hone.’ The symbol is a type of fruit.”

Tark touched his fingers to the energy field. “Fascinating. Were these considered advanced technology?”

“For the time,” replied the robot. “Similar devices survive. They were a status symbol.”

Tark snorted. “What kind of society would use something like this as a status symbol?”

“A primitive one. They would have been placed at 0.7 on the Kardashev scale.”

“Ouwch,” the professor replied. “That’s low. So, where did you find these artefacts?”

Again, Marty’s surface shimmered. “We dug in the remains of a royal palace. The objects we found form the bulk of the Thermidor exhibition. Look in the next cabinet. It has a drawing of the man we think was king at the time.”

Tark peered at the scrap of paper. The image was blobby and garish, in bold primary colours, resembling the bulk and contours of a human body. Underneath, in thick red letters, was written ‘MY NAME IS STEEV JOBS AGE 7½.’