"Captain?" a smooth female voice asks.

Silverman stirs in his sleeping quarters. He's mostly sure it's not time to get up yet.

"Captain?" the female voice asks again.

He sits up, his eyes barely open, his hair resembling a messy bird's nest. "What?" he grumbles.

"We are approaching Earth, Captain."

He rubs his face several times to wake himself up. "Thank you, Chantel," he mumbles. "Set us down at the coordinates given in Luiza's last communication."

"Yes, Captain," the ship's computer purrs. "You should shower before we land. First impressions mat-"

"I know!" he shouts and stumbles into a cylindrical chamber in the corner of his sleeping quarters.

Oxygen combines with two-parts Hydrogen and soon the bathing tube comes alive with water and suds, not entirely unlike a 21st century washing machine stood on end.

Twenty minutes later, Silverman places his sonic tooth cleanser back in it's charging dock and runs his tongue over his teeth. "That oughta do it," he says with a smile. "Am I beautiful again, Chantel?"

"Yes, Captain. I'm certain my flesh counterpart will find you very attractive."

He pulls on his best vintage leather jacket. "That's what I like to hear. Have we landed yet?"

"Yes, Captain."

He runs his fingers through his thick salt and pepper hair a few times then makes for the main hatch. "Open sesame!" he commands.

The afternoon sun shines brightly and he's forced to cover his face as his feet touch terra firma for the first time ever.

Silverman looks around at his surroundings with a puzzled expression. "What happened to earth? This doesn't look like the holographic representations at all."

The ship's computer answers via the implant in his ear. "All holographic representations were produced in the year 2020. It is currently 2120."

Silverman bends over and picks up a thin, pliable bag of some sort. "What type of material is this, Chantel?"

"That is an ancient type of plastic, Captain."

"Ancient? How old is it?"

"Over 100 years."

Silverman makes a face and lets the plastic bag slip from his fingers. A slight breeze quickly whisks the brightly colored object out of sight. He stands and continues to survey the surrounding area.

"It's everywhere! The grass, the trees - I see it piled up on the seashore... are other civilizations sending all their garbage to this planet or something?"

"No, Captain. The native earth inhabitants produced all of the plastic you are commenting on."

Silverman shakes his head. "You're kidding me."

"Jason?" a female voice behind him says. "Jason Silverman, is that you?"

He turns with a smile, ready to great the great love of his life. A voluptuous woman bounces up to him and throws her arms around him.

"I'm so happy to finally meet you!" she squeals.

He hugs her, then holds her at arm's length to take in her beauty.

"Chantel?"

"What?" the woman asks.

"Yes, Captain?" the ship's computer asks.

"Scan this woman's body for inorganic substances please."

"What?" the woman asks again, clearly confused.

"Heavy concentrations of plastic-like compounds are found in her chest, Captain."

Silverman turns and walks back to his ship leaving the confused woman standing alone.

"Remind me to change your name later."

"Yes, Captain."