The two young men walked down the halls in silence, each of them admiring the shimmering sunlight that filled every room and spilled out into the hallways.
Suddenly, a middle-aged woman with an urgent expression on her face came running from around the corner up ahead. A long white coat flowed all around her as she swiftly passed them, never saying a word.
Mandel looked at his friend confusedly, and Stephen shrugged his shoulders.
“I don’t know,” he said. “C’mon.”
They both increased their pace and began to run towards the corner from which the woman had come. As they rounded the bend, they came to an open doorway and a pair of persons inside caught both boys’ attention.
The old man was small and pale from years of combating his disease. His thin, white hair trembled about his head as his body convulsed. It was known by he and his family that his body could not hold out much longer, and his only wish was to see the newly discovered city for himself: to see sunlight pouring down through an open window and to experience the sweet aroma of fresh air.
Kirin had been left alone in the newly occupied hospital room, clutching the man’s hand as he quivered under the stress of a failing body. The only other nurse present had just run out the door to find the man’s family, since it was obvious he was drawing his final breaths. Kirin had stayed to offer him what comfort she could. His body had begun shaking a moment before, and his breathing was coming in quick, labored gasps. She had no idea what to say or do to help the man, so she only clung to his withered hand as he closed his eyes from the pain.
Stephen looked at Mandel, who was captivated by the sight. He considered prompting his friend to leave with him. However, Mandel’s enthralled gaze and Stephen’s own curiosity forced him to stay in the doorway, as silently as possible. He watched the gentility of the girl’s demeanor with utmost admiration. He let his eyes rest on the purity of her face, which now bore a saddened expression that had no equal in all its history.
An ordinary girl, such as the one that had passed them in the corridor, would not have held Stephen’s attention. However, this girl had a unique essence about her that kept Stephen from taking his eyes off her. She was thin, but graceful, and had long locks of black, slightly curled hair pinned behind her ears. Her face, soft and with no blemishes to disrupt its pure complexion, reminded Stephen of the color of cream. Her gaze, focused and soul-driven, never shifted from the man’s pain-stricken face. She seemed to project her own consciousness into the dying man, hoping to somehow bear the pain along with him.
Kirin said nothing as the frail figure, lying on the stretcher before her, slowly, and calmly, began to ease down from his spasms. His body jerked slightly, and then again, even more slightly, until he was almost still. He then drew another, final breath - this time slowly and with no difficulty from his diseased lungs.
As if in a final triumph over his burdens, the man’s last breath reached its peak, and then gradually fell. With no effort from himself, the air left his lungs with a wheeze until he was at rest, and he moved no more.
Only the presence of silent death could be sensed in the bright room, and no one moved, not even Kirin. She only held onto the fragile hand, her own hand trembling lightly as she did. She made no expression or sound as she slowly, and ever so gently, laid the man’s hand at his side. She then placed her other hand on his forehead. She bent over, touched her face to the back of her hand, and said a silent farewell to the man she did not really know - feeling that she was somehow offering herself to join him on his journey in case he were afraid. But she did not leave her body, and her spirit remained still within her. Her heart, however, was gone to another place.
Stephen turned his head quickly aside, and then grabbed Mandel’s shoulder firmly, urging him out of the doorway. Neither of the two said anything as they made their way through the corridor, down the stairs, and out into the daylight again.
Stephen stood at the end of his hallway, enjoying a moment of total silence. There was only enough twilight coming from the window in front of him to light his path, and he looked curiously at the way it danced across his feet through the flowing of the clouds. As he contentedly investigated the area, Stephen noticed some motion coming from the apartment room to his right, directly across from his own room. Curiously and calmly, he stepped up to the porthole on the door and peered inside.
Kirin was hugging her father tightly. The two-silhouetted forms rocked slowly back and forth in the moonlight that poured through the open window. Michael caressed his daughter’s hair gently as she rested in his arms…weary from what had happened earlier that day.
Kirin had never seen a person die before, and she could never have prepared herself for the wave of emotion brought on by the experience. Yet she did not cry. Her emotions ran deep…her compassion filled her essence…her desire to see the man live again throve just as brightly as it had when she felt him let go of her hand and pass on…yet she could not cry for him. Michael comforted her with his presence, and respected her emotions with his silence.
Stephen sensed that what he was witnessing was a sacred moment that should only be shared by the girl and her father, yet he could not turn away. He stifled his feelings of intrusion and continued to experience the emotional moment with them anonymously - feeling their pain without ever really experiencing it.
Just then, Michael looked up at the door to his room. Through its tiny porthole, he saw Stephen watching them in silence, and he straightened his body.
Stephen realized his discovery and immediately bowed his head in shame and apology - hoping that he had not angered the Commander. But as Stephen looked up again before leaving, he saw that Michael’s face showed no sign of anger or resentment. It only held the same understanding demeanor of sympathy and compassion as before. Kirin was oblivious to what was happening and continued to cling to her father… afraid to ever let him go. And thus, Michael held tight to his daughter for as long as she needed him to - never willing to let her feel pain alone.
Stephen showed Michael another apologetic nod, and then turned his gaze away. There in the darkness, his heart went out to them both as he turned and slowly walked into his own apartment across the hall.
Stephen pulled his bed sheet up to his neck. The cot he lay on squeaked a little as he shifted in the darkness. His breathing was soft and easy. He was relaxed, yet still awake. He sighed and sat upright, looking around in the dark. A small bit of moonlight shone on the floor next to his bed, illuminating the dusty floor.
He noticed a bit of light coming from underneath the door that grew brighter and brighter with each passing moment. Silently, his door slid open and Kirin was revealed behind it, carrying a single candle. Stephen sat up slowly, never taking his eyes off the angelic figure. She began walking toward him.
As she neared, Stephen took note of her beautiful appearance. He could see the outline of her slender legs pressing against her satin nightgown. His gaze proceeded farther up her body and he took note of her lovely chest that peeked out ever so timidly from behind the velvet wrap draped across her shoulders. Her long black hair was tied back, revealing the whole of her smooth complexion.
Kirin’s eyes were locked with Stephen’s as she approached. She looked away only long enough to set her candle down on the windowsill and then came to stand beside his bed. Stephen removed his bed sheet and sat up straight. Surrounded by a waft of warm, orange light, she sat down beside him, never shifting her attention from him.
Stephen let his mouth hang open, nervously. He could think of nothing to say or do. He only watched on in awe as she leaned closer and closer to his face, painfully taking her time. Stephen felt his hands shaking with the agony of anticipation. He reached up to hold her arms. He closed his eyes.
Stephen felt the edge of Kirin’s nose brush against his own, and her soft, warm breath melted away his fear. In an unexpected instant, he felt a light, almost undetectable touch on his lips. The touch was warm and sweet. It was soft and tender, but eve
r so minute.
Their lips were barely touching, but surges of love and satisfaction filled Stephen’s essence. He knew love… he felt love… The sensation was excruciating, but he wanted more and more. Slowly, her lips began to press harder, her sweet breath entering his mouth. Their lips locked completely and they were joined in pure emotion. At the peak of his joy, Stephen felt his consciousness alter somehow, and then the warmth was gone. The light vanished, and all was black again…
Stephen opened his eyes only to see the shadows of the night scattered across his bed. From the far corner of the room, he could hear Mandel’s faint snores. His heart was devastated. Stephen closed his eyes and laid his head back down on the pillow. He silently prayed for the dream to resume where it had left off.
3
Amber Dawn Rose as twilight fled the growing sun. Red luminance flooded the valleys and washed over the treetops. The glory of the morning left no crevice undisturbed. Every shadow of the land was dissolved into radiance and the darkness was no more. The morning sun seared through the leaves of the lush countryside and penetrated the open windows of the high-rise adobe apartments.
Husbands and wives and children and grandchildren all awoke restfully, rubbing their eyes with contentment in knowing the meaning of a home of their own. The heat quickly drove away the night’s clinging mist that loomed over the hillsides. The land stirred with the serene noises of the forest, and the new alien colonists were serenaded awake from a dream-swathed sleep.
When Stephen awoke, the morning had already begun without him. The city streets were bustling with the noise of chattering friends and recently employed merchants, seizing the opportunity to barter with both friends and strangers. Their intent was not greed, but rather a sharing of what was plenty in order to maintain a mutual comfort among the people. Children played games in the street while their parents carried baskets of fruits and berries back to their homes for canning and drying.
By his own incentive, Michael had posted one watchman at each of the city’s two mechanical gates, to be ready to seal the walls quickly if such a need arose. He insisted that the doors would only be allowed to remain open during the daytime, and then sealed indefinitely after the sun set each evening. Despite protests from the Governor, saying it made the city feel claustrophobic, Michael had gone out each evening and closed the gates himself. The Governor made no efforts to reopen them once they were shut, and it gradually became understood that the gates were to be sealed at sunset.
Stephen yawned as he sat up in his makeshift bed and rubbed the corners of his eyes. He looked over to Mandel’s cot, and saw a rumpled mess of sheets and pillows. He figured Mandel must already be out and about, and gave it no mind. Stephen rolled out of bed and sprawled out on the floor. He stretched forth each of his limbs in a different direction, as far as they would go. He then rolled over on his stomach and put his legs together. Stephen placed his hands, palms-down, beside his shoulders and pushed his body all the way up.
“One…” he started. “…two…three…”
Over and over, Stephen performed a series of flawless pushups. He remembered how his father had taught him the importance of maintaining a correct posture when doing this exercise. Simon had shown his son a weightless workout routine many years ago, and Stephen practiced the ritual religiously every morning. The notion that his father had passed this on to Stephen helped motivate him to get over the last few thrusts.
“… forty-nine …fifty.”
Stephen then went directly to placing his feet under his bed. He was not fatigued or strained in the least, as his body had grown very accustomed to this routine over the years. It never allowed him to achieve excellent physical shape, but it never failed to prevent him from getting lazy or weak.
“One …two…”
Stephen began a quick barrage of sit-ups. He remembered too the way his father had taught him to follow through correctly with each one. He then began wondering where Mandel had gone.
“… sixteen… seventeen…”
Then Stephen remembered Mandel saying something about helping his father this morning. Yes, the Governor had needed Mandel’s help to move some things into his new office in the city hall, on the other side of town. That was what it was. He would likely be gone most of the morning.
“…forty-nine…and fifty…” Stephen uttered this last number with a mighty grunt. He had always hated the sit-ups.
Stephen rose to his feet and quickly stretched once more. He then walked slowly toward the open entrance of his patio that overlooked most of the city. Stephen scanned the distant horizon, stretching his range of vision as far as it could go. All he could see were trees and hills. As he continued to look around, his gaze settled upon the patio of the room across from his own. There, sitting alone on a metal lawn-chair, sat a pretty creature that stood out in Stephen’s mind like a rhythm in the sea of noise.
Kirin was engrossed in a journal of some sort: carefully reading line after line and then pausing every few moments to make jots and memos to herself. He surveyed her reclined figure and marveled at the innocence her image conveyed. Her demeanor fascinated Stephen. He then remembered seeing her in a part of a dream the night before, but he could not recall many details; he only remembered her beautiful face. The elegance and gracefulness of the girl he saw were more than enough to captivate his attention away from the faint rumble, beginning to swell in the forest behind the city.
A cloud of dust and leaves began to rise steadily wider and higher above the trees. A stomping fury of thousands upon thousands of hooves pounded and trampled the soft earth in the midst of the forested valley less than two kilometers away from the rear entrance to the city - a valley that led directly to the western gate.
A weary yawn crossed Stephen’s face as he scratched the scalp under his short hair. His yawn turned to a faint grin as he watched a small group of children playing hide-and-seek under the dim shadow of the huge, solitary tree that stood in the center of the city square below. He particularly noticed a small girl with pig-tailed hair climbing into the lower branches of the dry, brittle timber that rose to over thirty meters at its peak.
Stephen turned his head slightly to the left when he heard a worried scream in the distance, from someone at the far end of the city. Normally, Stephen wouldn’t have paid any mind, but something in the urgency of this particular cry interested him enough to turn his head farther around. The grin on his face mutated into a fearful frown as he realized what was about to happen.
The dust cloud that had steadily grown in size was now less than a half-kilometer away from the open city gate. The rumble of heavy, native hooves swelled louder and louder until it sounded like the subsequent drone of passing thunder. The cloud, which masked an enormous herd of bison-like animals, drew steadily closer and closer to the city gate.
The gate yawned lazily agape, welcoming a raiding stampede. A mortified watchman, slinging his morning coffee in all directions, ran across the top of the city wall - frantically striving to reach the gate controls in time to shut the doors. As the cloud neared to less than a hundred meters away, the rumble became so audible that Kirin was snapped out of her interested brooding, and turned her attention to something quite terrifying. She slowly rose to her feet, unconsciously dropped her book and pencil, and stared in awe at the enormous dust-cloud in the distance.
The watchman skidded slightly, almost overrunning the gate-control console. Instantly, he pulled hard on a red lever and the sleeping gates groaned to life. Greasy gears creaked wearily, and the open gap between the two doors began gradually shrinking. The watchman, along with several other people now staring from their windows, watched on in fear as the dust cloud reached the forest-line, not forty meters outside the city. The watchman trembled uncontrollably, but he finally relaxed when the metal doors clanged shut with the stampeding herd still thirty meters away from the city wall.
From his position, Stephen could not see the beasts clearly over the city gate, but he knew that the
cloud would definitely stop now, or at least re-route up and over the valley’s sides.
The cloud continued to swarm closer. The animals had been frightened into a stampede from which they would not deter, not for anything. A natural instinct drove the herd ever forward, away from a faceless predator. In the simple minds of the stampeding creatures, the upcoming wall was simply an obstacle that had to be run through to avoid stopping.
At the city wall, the watchman continued to stare on in puzzlement as the first of the dim-witted beasts slammed head-first into the gate, crushing its skull and leaving a large indentation on the inside of the metal door. More indentations followed as one after another, the animals continued to slam fatally into the thick wall. As the pile of bleeding corpses began to grow, the watchman’s interest slowly returned to a feeling of tense fear when he realized that the pile of dead creatures was gradually forming a gory ramp that climbed steadily closer to the top of the wall.
Fear and panic seized the watchman all at once as the first of the native beasts reached the top and charged over effortlessly, slamming head-first into the watchman, simultaneously breaking all of his ribs and sending him flying backwards through the air to land hard on his back inside the city gate.
The first beast was soon to be followed by several dozen. Some faltered at their landing, but most maintained their pace as they poured over the wall. The body of the watchman was trampled beyond recognition, and the dust cloud transferred from outside the city to inside - among the busy streets.
Stephen watched on in horror as the herd scattered through the alleyways and corridors below, trampling several colonists. As the front line of the stampede neared Stephen’s building, he could finally see the shaggy, black bodies of the creatures. Horned and grunting, the stampeding beasts ravaged on and on through the city, tearing easily through weak building walls, and crashing grotesquely into sturdy ones.
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