Homebound Sector, Haven System, Ariea, Kansa
A gentle breeze blew across the wild grasslands as Amelia and Harrison made their trek across the open landscape. Years ago, this land would have been fertile farmland, tilled and planted with wheat, but no one had harvested this land in nearly forty years. In that time, the native grasses had crept back in. They were little more than calf-height, and offered no hinderance to their hike as the grass blades swayed in the wind.
Dark clouds churned to the south and Amelia kept an ear turned for thunder, knowing how quickly the Kansa weather could turn. An old battery-operated weather radio was slung over her shoulder as they made their way to the looming shipyards. It was tuned to the weather station, murmuring indecipherably under the wind noise. This region of the continent was subject to severe pop up storms. She knew better than to leave the house without a radio when there were clouds in the distance.
Additionally, the weight of a knife was bumping against her leg as they walked. She had grabbed the switchblade from her husband’s nightstand drawer before they had left Lion’s Den, unsure what real use it would be. Still, she was comforted by its presence as she led Harrison along the path to the shipyards.
Only neglected crop markers marked the path across the fields, but Amelia had made this trek before. She remembered spending the summers of her youth out here with her parents. Her father had always held an affection for the place, respecting the simplicity of this way of life.
Kansa was a poor nation, the infrastructure here remained decades older than Valkar’s. Connections to the interplanetary cortex for communications and entertainment were unreliable and uncommon in this region. Right now, that made it an ideal place for Amelia to hide.
Little ever changed in Kansa. The medical facilities, the transportation methods and the vocational opportunities were all virtually the same as they had been before the Hydrian War, fifty years ago.
People here did not often leave. They were too poor to move elsewhere and had no chance of gaining the skills that would support them in other nations or on other worlds, so here they stayed, working the land for crops to sell at meager amounts. They were members of the worlds’ lower class and it was exceptionally rare to see people with this heritage in any position of power.
Rare as it was, that was remarkably irrelevant now. Amelia was on her own, hiding in a defunct old cabin in a poor country with no help coming. That was her life now. It was all she could do to keep her son entertained with this hike, so she focused on that.
The shipyards rested in a natural dip of the landscape, and allegedly, the natural crater had been deepened considerably by the launch of the Kansa shipyards’ largest build: the Singularity.
Amelia and Harrison ignored the rusty red and white warning sign. It read, ‘No Trespassing. Military Property. Hazardous Conditions.’ They skidded deftly down the grassy side of the caldera and ducked under the warped metal fence, abruptly finding themselves in a different world.
A gentle breeze shifted the leaves of the hidden jungle as sunlight drifted down between the gaps of the foliage. Covered in green vines, metal towers of spatial trusses shot upward, trying to scrape the sky. A long-empty fuel storage tower had a tree growing out the top of it. Saplings sprouted up on the fractured concrete landing pad below, flourishing in the shade of the towering leafy spindles.
Amelia led them onward, toward Harrison’s favorite part of the shipyards: the monolithic, soaring cranes that had yet to be completely overgrown. Tattered warning flags still flew on the top of the weight bearing structures. They arched up over nothing now, but had constructed to lift massive pieces of hull plating and main armaments into place on a ship several hundred feet in height and over a mile in length.
But following the bends of the trail, they soon found five uniformed men standing in formation, patiently waiting. Every soldier but one held a large rifle in his arms. The one who didn’t grinned at the sight of her.
Amelia shoved her son instinctively behind her. “Who are you?” She called, reaching into her pocket for her knife. How could they have found us so quickly?
The man without a rifle stepped forward and gave a mock-bow. “I am Colonel VanHubert, XO of the Flagship Olympia. I was sent to collect you, Miss Kleinfelter.” The man’s face was naturally asymmetrical, a certain type of unsettling, as he advanced towards her.
Amelia drew her knife when he came too close, “Stay back. I’m not going anywhere with you. Leave us alone.” This was a nightmare. Running away had done nothing. “We’re not a threat here, please.”
VanHubert did not care to hear her pleas. In a deft movement, he smacked her wrist at a pressure point, forcing her to drop the knife, and then swept her into his arms. “I’m afraid that’s something I can’t do.”
Amelia could feel his hand inching up her back, and began to struggle. “Get off of me!”
VanHubert held her in an iron grip. “It would benefit you to cease your struggles,” he said, reaching out to feel her lips. They look so soft. “No wonder my superior took a liking to you.”
Amelia bit his finger, rewarded with the metallic taste of blood.
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VanHubert yanked his hand back. “You bitch!” he howled and slapped her hard, holding back none of his strength.
She screamed when his large hand made contact with her face. Amelia could already feel it bruising as VanHubert dropped her roughly to the ground. Harrison was pushed to the ground beside her by one of the other soldiers.
Bang!
The percussive thud did not echo amongst the coils of vines and trees, but it was loud enough to leave Amelia’s ears ringing. Colonel VanHubert and his Marines froze their movement, heads snapping up in the direction of the gunshot.
Another man stepped out from behind one of the shipyards’ many towers. He pumped his shotgun in clear view, training it on the tight group of soldiers. “Leave them alone!”
VanHubert took in the man’s work boots, faded jeans and flannel plaid. He was speckled with mud. A local. “You are trespassing on military property,” the Colonel answered. “Remove yourself from the area.”
The stranger didn’t even falter. He kept the iron sights of his shotgun trained directly on the highest-ranking soldier of the group. “Hell no,” he said from underneath the wide brim of his hat. “I’m going to tell you how this is going to work. You fellas are going to let the young woman and her son walk away. No one will get shot, and we can all get back to our day to day lives.”
VanHubert squinted up at the farmer, simultaneously intrigued and annoyed. “You are interfering in matters you do not understand.”
“I think I understand perfectly well what I saw happening. Now, place your rifles on the ground.” He curled his finger around the trigger of his gun. “You know I could take you all out with one blast at this distance. Don’t make me.”
VanHubert looked to his men, “Do as he says.” They would certainly have another chance at Amelia. It had not taken long to find her here, and in running, she had only isolated herself. Out in this poor, sparsely populated region, Reeter wouldn’t have to worry about the media.
The Marines slowly placed their rifles on the ground under the farmer’s watchful eye. “Keep your hands in the air, and take three steps back,” he commanded the soldiers. “Ma’am, pick up those rifles.”
Amelia did as told without even thinking about it. She had to escape VanHubert. Anything this farmer would do with her was better than that. She slung the rifle straps over her shoulder, and picked her knife and weather radio back up from where they had fallen in the dirt. It was a lot of weight to put on her shoulder, but she managed.
“Turn around and take a walk, boys,” the farmer commanded.
VanHubert just smiled. He would expect nothing less than vain effort from an interloper. Little did this bystander know, it was hopeless.
The farmer nodded to Amelia as the Marines started walking away with their hands in the air. “Let’s go.” As silently as possible, they made their escape, wandering a labyrinthine path through the shipyards’ rusting infrastructure.
Amelia struggled under the weight of the rifles in silence, ushering Harrison along while the stranger covered the rear. He messed up their trail with his feet, rendering them harder to track.
After half an hour of silence, the farmer lowered his gun and called into the empty wilderness. “Anabelle!”
The nearby bushes rustled, and Amelia jumped in fright, but the only thing to emerge was a young girl with long blond hair in a braid that haloed around her head. She darted into the farmer’s outstretched arms.
“Apologies for the silence, ma’am, but I wanted to make sure they weren’t following us.” He tussled the young girl’s hair and offered out a hand, “The name’s Ron Parker. This is my daughter Anabelle.”
Amelia shook his hand, “Amelia Kleinfelter,” she responded in kind, leaving her maiden name off. News of her father’s death would have made its rounds even here in this sparsely populated region. “Harrison is my son.”
Ron nodded to the young boy, who smiled back, working on pulling a twig out of his hair. “We should get moving. There’s a storm coming.” The rumble of thunder was growing more and more audible. “Where are you staying? We should have enough time to walk you there before the storm gets too bad.”
“An old cabin south of the shipyards,” she answered. As hesitant as she was to trust anyone, she had never visited the area of the shipyards. She had no idea how to get back to the cabin on her own.
“I know the place,” Ron assured, wordlessly taking three of the rifles from her as she pulled them off her aching shoulder. That cabin sat on the only land in the region that was not currently being farmed. “Follow me.”
It took thirty minutes for Ron to lead them back to the warped fence, and in that time the cacophony of thunder had grown near constant. He pulled the bent section of the fence aside to let everyone else to pass through.
The wind had picked up, making it difficult to climb out of the shipyards’ crater. The gusts whipped through Amelia and Anabelle’s long hair. The sun now hid behind a spread of thick gray clouds and the temperature had dropped considerably.
“Is there a particular reason the military was trying to arrest you?” Ron asked. He had seen the search parties out earlier. They had scared away all the deer he was trying to hunt. At first, he’d thought they had come looking for him, but VanHubert’s encounter with Amelia had disproved that notion.
Amelia had to yell to be heard over the wind noise. “No,” she lied. The less this courageous farmer knew, the better. “They had just caught us trespassing in the shipyards when you showed up.”
“Those were ship-based personnel. I highly doubt they were around to enforce the no trespassing rule.” He knew exactly which ship, too. And it was very unlikely the flagship’s personnel had been dispatched to patrol remote Kansa without a specific intent.
Amelia shrugged, hiding her discomfort. “Well, what do I know about military strategy?” And what did he? Wasn’t he just a farmer who had gone out to hunt in that artificial forest?
That comment ended their short-lived conversation. Ron elected not to pry. He was certain their histories would make a dangerous combination, especially if the Olympia was involved. He pursed his lips, troubled. There’s no going back, he reminded himself. He had made his decision eight months ago. He had thrown his only chance of ever leaving this region away.
When the cabin was within sight, raindrops were just beginning to fall. Ron stopped there.
“Thank you for all of your help,” Amelia told him, gently taking Harrison’s hand.
“Bye!” Anabelle said with a big toothy grin as she stood dressed in too-big denim overalls that were rolled up to the ankles.
“Here,” Ron said before Amelia could walk away, “take this.” He offered out one of the standard-issue rifles they had taken from the soldiers.
“I wouldn’t know how to use that,” she protested as he shoved it into her hands.
“Intimidation works just as well as actually firing, you know.”
Amelia gave an exhausted smile and accepted the rifle, heading towards the cabin with Harrison in tow. She was in no mood to fight anyone else. It was hopeless and she knew it.
By the time she set foot on the porch and turned to see what direction the Parkers went off in, they were lost to the drowning sheets of cold fall rain.