Mary jolts into an upright position as she awakens from her slumber. With her eyes wide and darting in every direction, she examines her surroundings with haste. She lays upon a bed that’s hardly large enough for her, inside a small metal compartment with only enough room for her bed and three lockers. The overall interior design of the compartment flaunts its sophistication. The lockers near the foot of her bed hardly resemble that of their primitive ancestors; the fine, polished metal glistens in the light and the interactive lock screen boasts a meticulously designed user interface. She listens intently for anything, but the only sounds that reach her ears is a faint low hum. She remembers her injuries and then notices her lack of pain, and so her eyes immediately focus on her legs. Fresh bandages encompass her wounds, their formidable dexterity impresses her as she inspects them with care.
The door to her room slides open rather quietly, and before her stands the man she encountered the night before. She freezes; there’s nowhere for her to go, and she’s simply in no condition to do anything. Seconds pass as he stands before her in silence, perhaps his new appearance keeps her from completely losing control. She’s never seen his face before. All she’s ever known, in the brief amount of time she’s been aware of him, was the fear he instilled. Before she first encountered him, all she knew of him were rumors and hearsay. These taught her to fear and tremble before him. After all, her entire crew may be dead as a result of crossing paths with a Pioneer.
He looks upon her with his deep orange eyes. His dark, soft-angled eyebrows provide a stark contrast with his absurdly pale skin that, in some light levels seems to have a nearly unnoticeable hint of magenta. A modest, well-kept beard as dark as his suit withholds a strong jawline from Mary’s eyes, and his heavy, long black hair streams down the sides of his face in an orderly manner ending at his chin. He’s no longer wearing dark robes that cover an armored suit, but instead dons a simple dark grey shirt accompanied by black pants, which to her seem to be made of a durable, unknown material. The only piece of his original suit that he wears is the armored footwear that reach the bottom half of his calves.
He opens his left hand and points it to the ground. “May I sit?” His deep voice, though potent, is polite, but refuses to lessen its grip upon Mary; and so she remains silent while glaring intently at this strange man. He interacts with the touchscreen upon one of the lockers near the foot of her bed and a padded seat extends from the bottom of the lockers before raising itself up a few feet. He seats himself with his body facing the end of her bed, and while keeping a neutral expression asks another question, “Are you feeling any discomfort in your legs?”
His calmness breaks the chains of fear that hold Mary captive, and she utters a faint, “No.” Upon speaking, her dry throat pleads with her to ask for some water, but before she even considers asking for some, her captor looks over his shoulder and selects something on the screen of one of the lockers. It opens and from it he withdraws a bottle of water. In silence he hands it to her, and she immediately drinks all of it. He reaches out and she hands over the empty bottle. To her surprise, he reaches into the locker for another bottle which he extends out to her, water sloshing. Perplexed by his generosity, she cautiously accepts the water and downs it in mere seconds. Without muttering a word, he reaches out and relieves her of the empty bottle and again reaches into the locker behind him and withdraws another water which she also drinks in the blink of an eye. Repeating the cycle, he takes the empty bottle and hands her yet another bottle of water.
Breathing heavily from consuming three bottles of water, she questions him in an airy voice, “Really?” He closes his eyes while nodding and smiles. She accepts the water, but drinks it over the course of the next few minutes while the man introduces himself.
He speaks in a slow rhythm with a stern tone, “My name is Loy, and I mean you no harm. Do you understand?” No words are spoken in response to his statement, all she can do is remember those she’s lost, and who’s responsible. “Are you familiar with my kind?”
Mary’s breathing intensifies, and she speaks as if carrying a heavy burden, “I’ve lost friends because of your kind.” Loy retains his calm demeanor as she continues, “When we were boarding our ship, one of your kind killed someone I loved.”
Keeping his eyes locked with hers, Loy questions the integrity of her story, “If a Pioneer confronted you, then it would have been the one known as Vis. He was dispatched with the same orders as mine, capture them alive. Pioneers only disobey orders under rare circumstances.”
Tears escape Mary’s eyes, “He just stood there, watching us run for our lives.” Her voice lowers to a quivering mutter, “What happened next I will never forget, none of it made sense, in every way. Why does such cruelty have to exist?”
Loy leans in towards her and speaks with concern, “Cruelty? What did he do?”
Mary rhythmically shakes her head while weeping, “I don’t know how to explain it, I’ve never seen something like this before, but the last member of my crew was about to board when something took hold of him. I grabbed his arm.” She sobs, “And he looked at me.” She pauses for a moment and rests her face in the palm of her hand, “He told me to let go, he told me to leave him, and that’s when something forced my hand to open. He shot through the air, I don’t know how, but he just flew right towards our enemy; and this man in black, like you.” She lifts her head towards Loy, “Grabbed him by the throat. He looked at me, while he did it, that’s when he slowly rotated my crew-members’ neck until he died.”
“What was his name? This crew-member you lost?”
“Why?” She looks into his eyes, “Why should I give you the satisfaction?”
“He deserves to be remembered. If what you say is true, then he is someone who should be honored.”
She waits for the pain of her loss to lessen before revealing the name of her lost love, “His name was Nathan, Nathan Wells. The way my hand was forced open, I’m afraid Nathan believed I did so out of my own will. I never was going to let go, and he died believing I did without a care in the world.” Loy remains silent and waits to speak until Mary asks him a question, “Why did you save me? What do you want from me? I have nothing left. The last thing I had in this world is now gone.”
With his soft, deep voice Loy says, “I saved you so I could save more. I’m defecting from the Pioneer Order, and my government. I saved you because you know where I can find the right people to warn. The second attack is coming soon. Without my help, this world is lost.”
“And you think I’ll believe you? What was that you said about Pioneers rarely disobeying orders?”
“Trust is difficult to earn, it is a treasure too often taken for granted. I know it is a process I cannot rush. I began with saving your life, but of course even as your enemy I would have done so to preserve the information within you. So, I know someone visited you before I did. If there’s no progress to be made with you, I will track this individual, and ask them what you told them.”
Mary smiles, “You’ll never find him.”
“I will, and you’ll be there when I do.”
Loy stands and proceeds to exit the small room, but not before Mary speaks, “Why are you defecting?”
He stands in the doorway and turns to her, “Now that it’s finally happened, and I’ve been among the ruins and the dead, I see through the lies and deceit. We never had to come back here. We could’ve disappeared into the vastness of our universe, and found other worlds to inhabit. Even with the world we have now, we needn’t spread ourselves across the galaxy just yet. Before this war, do you know what my purpose was? To explore as many worlds as I possibly could. Many of the ones I found could be tamed, transformed to fit our needs. Why come back here? They said that Earth would become a threat, so strike now before it’s too late. I don’t believe that, I don’t believe that we must always assume the worst about each other, and then see it as fact. But these are just words Mary, for now they are hollow, only by my actions will my words be made whole. Rest for now, I’ll wake you before takeoff.”
Loy turns to leave before Mary asks one more question, “Wait, takeoff?”
He looks at her with a smile, “Oh, welcome aboard the Shackleton.” He exits the room with the door closing behind him, leaving Mary alone to ponder Loy’s hollow words.
Simon wakes with the model spacecraft resting in the palms of his hands. He looks to his right and sees the light of morning making its way into the crevice. Groans emanate from him as he stands to his feet, and lifts the backpack to his shoulders. He walks to the entrance before halting his advance. Gradually the ash made its way into this space, and reminds him to first cover his face before exiting his sanctuary. He wraps the same grey shirt around his head, covering his nose and mouth, and pulls out a pair of sunglasses from his pack. As his steps advance him into the open, the deepening layer of ash challenges his every move. Ash continues to delicately fall from the sky without a breeze to be felt, and Simon begins to worry as weariness creeps upon him.
Grey clouds roam the sky while grey ash inhabits the air and covers the land in its dreariness. Prepare yourself Simon, this isn’t going to be easy; don’t fail to fulfill Mary’s last wish, it’s the least you can do. Trudging through the ash, Simon’s stomach demands food, his mouth cries out for water, but to preserve what he has left, he pushes on and ignores the ailments of his body. He aligns himself with what he believes is due west, and for hours he marches through the grey sea that once was a vibrant desert land. A thousand thoughts visit his mind, he dwells on his family, his friends, and the memories he holds of them. Memories that he once took for granted have now become treasures more valuable to him than the water he carries. For what does he push on other than to preserve what was lost? Survival doesn’t have to only include the survival of the body, but also it can mean to keep safe the past that one has stored within them.
Alone he travels, a tiny speck among the vastness of the ruin that is the world. Not a single creature can be found except this one man. The weariness that keeps close is sent away by a rage igniting within him; a rage against the forces, whether they be natural or man-made, that brought this upon his home and his people.
As the sun nears the end of its journey across the sky, the ashfall slowly dissipates. Despite the sudden clarity of the air itself, the sky remains burdened with heavy, dark clouds. Simon halts his advance through the layers of ash, and turns to the east; where a massive column of ash and smoke reigns over the horizon. He removes his sunglasses and the shirt he’s using to protect his face, and removes a bottle of water from his pack. He quenches his thirst while observing the waning aftermath, and ponders the reason for the end of everything. He takes a moment to look around him, perhaps he’s close to his goal of reaching the air force base. He stands amidst a semi-flat plane, with protruding rock formations reaching into the sky on either side of him. While the ground and anything else with a flat surface has been painted grey, the sides of these rock formations still boast their true colors; a deep reddish orange with layers of various shades of the same color.
Alright Mary, show me the way. Simon resumes his journey west knowing he is approaching the end. An hour of walking passes, and he finds himself standing at the edge of a mesa. Beneath this viewpoint, a flat plane extends into the western horizon. He carefully scans everything before him in hopes of spotting his prize. Out in the distance, he spots a lone structure protruding from the earth, and his heart leaps for joy inside his chest. That must be it, it must be. He carefully finds a way down from his viewpoint and musters all the strength he has left to quickly reach his destination. The sunset is nearing its end, prompting Simon to quicken his already hastened advance.
Once again the western evening sky is painted a deep orange as the sun fights its way through the dense clouds of dust and ash. As Simon nears his destination he’s able to notice other structures spread out behind the first. Despite being exhausted, starving, and dehydrated, the joy of completing his mission provides him with strength and hope. He is met with further joy as he confirms he has indeed arrived at the air force base. Most of the structures still standing are hangars, with only one being a single story building. Collapsed sections of the barbed wire fence surrounding the base allow him to enter with ease. He first directs his attention toward the single story building some hundred meters away. When he’s within thirty meters he stops, and listens carefully to the voices he hears coming from within the building. Harsh words are being spoken from multiple men, and they’re growing louder. An urge to hide encourages him to find a refuge from these men, especially since he’s standing in the open.
He turns towards the nearest hanger and runs, but fails to reach it before a voice howls through the air, “Hey! Hey you! Go on, get him!” Simon looks over his shoulder to see three men chasing after him, being in the state he is, he’s unable to outrun his pursuers. They tackle him to the ground, plunging his face deep into the ash.