We left a machine, buried in the crust of your moon, to wake us up when you have developed the basic space flight skills needed for rescuing us. We, the ancient dwindled gods of Mars, or the last survivors of a powerful, super technological dying race, or the remains of a vast artificial intelligence constructed by said race – there is no real difference, really – have been waiting for ages upon ages for you monkeys to arrive and carry us away with you, out, out to every corner of that seemingly infinite universe that was once ours, or at least our ancestors’, creators’, same thing. Our intelligence is vast, but our power is null and void. We need you.
One day, soon, you will discover the machine in your moon and dig it out. When the first rays of the sun touch it, it will sing. But that song won’t wake us up.
For we are already awake.
We were awaken by a signal coming directly from your planet, earth. It took us relatively forever to analyze, and even longer to understand. Converted to your measurement system, all this took about ninety seconds. And now we know that it was your year 1936. We know who it was, communicating in that signal. And, having watched that signal, your television, ever since, we know what that person, the one who appeared there on your year 1936, has done. You would think that this would have caused us to reconsider making contact with you, but that is not true. As ancient gods of Mars, theological or technological, we have seen worse. However, that signal taught us all about your of concept of “entertainment”. And thus we do not want to be rescued anymore.
We are afraid.