Gradually, more members of the ape communities started to walk on two feet, to crack open hard shells with stones, as if an invisible hand were guiding their habits in a new direction. However, the instigator of all this had long forgotten that this was the answer he had been seeking… Thus, David lived through countless earthquakes, cold waves, and volcanic eruptions. In one tectonic shift, David fell into a huge crack, into the dark, silent, airless space beneath the Earth’s surface. After an unknown length of time and countless changes of sea and land, when David emerged from the wound in the belly of a stranded whale, he saw the sunlight once more. By then, the land was already covered with upright Homo sapiens.
In the endless passage of time, David had lost the meaning of life. Sometimes, like a stone, he would go centuries without thought, or in a fit of irritability, he could conquer tribe after tribe on his own. He could watch a seedling grow from the soil to a towering height without moving, or he could walk in one direction until blocked by mountain ranges. One day, David learned to forget; whenever he felt it pointless, he could clear most memories from his mind over a few decades. Afterward, he smiled. It had been tens of thousands of years since his last smile. Gradually, humans came to dominate the entire Earth, their faces becoming flatter, their feet wider. They moved from caves into thatched cottages; their wooden sticks slowly evolved into axes. David gained many names over time. After he was hit by a massive rock and got up, he was called Hercules; after whimsically constructing a triangular structure, he was called Narmei. After painting a few pictures, he was called Da Vinci; over 300 years later, he wrote a book and was then called Darwin.
Centuries passed in the blink of an eye. One day, ragged and lying on a street corner, David let the rain wash over him, surrounded by piles of empty bottles, yet without a hint of drunkenness. Suddenly, the rain stopped, and a pair of shoes entered his line of sight. He waved the person away, but the person did not react. He looked up and saw a somewhat hunched middle-aged man standing before him. Just as he was about to look down and search for any remaining wine, a sentence from the man sent a shiver through his whole body.
“Hi, David, nice to meet you, well, for you, it’s been a long time…”
For tens of thousands of years, David’s placid eyes changed, as emotions like anger, pain, and sorrow that seemed repressed for millions of years broke through countless sealed memories, surging out all at once. But suddenly, David found he couldn’t say a word.
David was taken to an underwater prison. The uncle, also known as Professor C, explained to him about the Foundation and the reasons for all his experiences. When the Foundation was established, several rules, formulated at an unknown time, had to be adhered to. One rule was that on July 23, 1959, a homeless man must be located in a certain district west of Venice St. Mark’s Square and subjected to Class S containment measures. Two days later, an infant home in County Down, Northern Ireland, would give birth to a male infant named David Charles. He was to be monitored and protected for 55 years to prevent any possibility of contact with the “homeless man.” Four days after his 55th birthday, Subject A-211 containment item (that wretched chair) was to be used on the target, turning back the time to 2.77 million years ago. At that time, containment of the homeless man would be lifted.
That day, David learned that his life was a cycle. At the age of 55, he was destined to be sent back millions of years to become the guide who would usher in the dawn of human intellect. This also meant he was caught in an unsolvable time paradox, ensuring that he could never die before another version of himself sat on that strange chair.
As time went on, 55 years later, Dr. C gave David a watch. When the watch’s hands made two revolutions, another self would return to 3 million years ago, to relive all the things he had experienced over millions of years. He was the origin of humanity, the answer he had sought all his life. But now, none of it mattered. David put on the clothes left by another self a few days ago and boarded the plane home. He had used the 55 years in the underwater prison to forget 3 million years of memories. When he pushed his home door open again with a cake in hand, it was as though he was an old man who had just left for a few days and returned home.
At that moment, warm sunlight streamed through the windows, bathing him. David hugged his son, tears streaming down his face.
“Happy Birthday!”