As one of the tech review magazines said a few years ago when the first 32 GB micro SD cards came out, “At last it is possible for a single human being to accidentally swallow all of the data collected by the Apollo Program.”
“This is it?” Shayde held aloft a crystal with a metal disk on one end. “All'o the survivin’ media from the twentieth century?”
“And some derivative works, yes,” said Rael. “That’s hyper-compressed crystal memory storage. It would take you years to read and view all of it.”
“And this bit’s the interface port?” An ebon talon tapped the metal disk.
“Ah… no. That’s the Palmecki Preventer.”
“Ye woh?”
“Ensign Palmecki gained galactic infamy when, in order to protect what he believed to be sensitive information, he swallowed a data-crystal containing five hundred quadrillobytes of collected fan fiction and choked to death.”
“Ah. Right. Bit of a nong, was ‘e?”
Once again, Shayde’s vocabulary confused and disoriented. “…probably,” Rael allowed.
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