"I have travelled far. Probably too far; but I can only pray that whatever - they say about me... that it will be good. I hope they say I was kind."

The moonlit arch, glistening in the eternal darkness of the cosmos, grew larger with their approach. Patterns of light, delicate lines, and magnificent structures began to take shape as the flight computer announced their arrival. Long hours of concentration and silence rushed to an end, as a lonely man behind the controls finally took a deep breath. With all his logical mind and thought, for a moment, he glimpsed at the marvel and thought of it as the nail of the gods, only to quickly laugh at his ignorance afterward.

"How stupid," he murmured to himself at his own thought. He then turned around into the interior of his small vessel to check if his precious cargo was safe—untouched. It surely must be; it has to be. Just like his ship, hidden in the sea of the refugee fleet.

Slowly, he released himself from the braces that held him in their embrace throughout these hours, checked the columns of lights and sensors on the panels above his head, and started the auto-pilot. His tired eyes swept over the cabin, lit only by the rows of multi-colored lights of the flight computers, and the floor panels led him into a wider chamber. One could say it was empty, designed to carry people to safety, but there was none—none except a single child sleeping calmly on a row of seats. Wrapped in blankets so tightly that you could not see its face.

A child he had taken from the ruins of a burning city. Saved. His thoughts automatically corrected that, and he smiled as he approached. He knew she was asleep, though some part of his mind doubted that. Her breath was shallow; she didn't move.

At first, he was worried, but the woman told him she was catatonic. He didn't understand and didn't care. It made his job easy. The child would not speak or move. She was present but somewhere else. That suited him. After loosening the layers of material, he thought for a split second of rubbing off the dirt and grime from her precious face. Only for a second thought, but he couldn't. She was to look like one of them. He must look like one of them.

The autopilot alarmed, and he left.

The moonlit arch grew larger every second, so fast that he could distinguish the lights of the spaceport. It looked as if the arm of the lunar city extended into the barren desert of dust. Soon, the dome and all of its structures, cave entries, and space shoot rails filled the horizon before him.

His small craft belonged to a mass evacuation that included dozens of other ships, small and large, of all shapes and nations. His mind imagined the blasts of the propulsion of the large carrier ship engines somewhere behind him, surrounding him.

The man saw landing lights guiding the survivors to safety. He only paid attention to two large frigates in front of him. One ship dangerously drifted and hit the starboard of the second one. The impact shut down their position engines, and they fell to the ground, smashing into the landing pad.

He could have done that himself, he thought, but at what cost? Losing this craft wasn't an option. No, it would have been too easy. Very quickly, he looked behind him, into the chamber at the child, and then back at the landing pad. No, one grenade is enough. He knew what must be done next.

The craft sped up violently, making a large circle around other ships, getting dangerously close to the surface. He waited for the exact moment and fired the position engines to land. His hands gripped the controls tightly as he felt the G's pushing his body into the seat.

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His ship held in space, throwing immense amounts of light and fire from all sides. Like an iron clench, it held him still, only moving downwards. The surface and the moon dust rumbled as it touched down.

The man got out of the airlock quickly, wearing a spacesuit and holding the child in one arm. His microphone came alive. "Doctor! I need a doctor!" he yelled as soon as he touched the ground with his feet.

The girl's face was visible now—her straw blonde hair messed up over the tiny nose and shut eyes. He knew they would come to him, especially after this. When he reached an enormous group of other people, the man's right hand quickly shot towards a large passenger craft. Especially after this, he thought again and pushed through the group.

Seconds after, a colossal explosion ripped the ship apart. He knew there were still people on board. Panic ensured his safe passage into the building. Just to entertain himself, he shouted a few times. "Sir! You need to follow me!" A man in a suit grabbed his arm. Well, finally. "Are you hurt?" Someone else asked. He shook his head and pointed at the child. These people took him to the airlock and from there to the hospital wing. The man didn't let anyone touch the child.

The mask he wore was the most scared face he could muster, mumbling at the same time to himself and to the girl.

A nurse tried to calm him down, but stubbornly he kept asking for a doctor. There were a lot of wounded, dead, or some lost between. Not yet dead, but not able to live anymore. The cries and screams filled these corridors. Not long after, they reached a set of interconnected round rooms; here was where the doctors lived. Before the nurse said anything, one of the doors opened, and a youthful woman holding an electronic tablet exited.

"Madasa, this man needs help. He claims he urgently needs to see a doctor," the nurse spoke quickly to her.

"Not me. My daughter," he interrupted.

The woman's face was the most perfectly fake mask of grief and pain he ever saw.

"Thank you, nurse. I'll see what I can do," Madasa answered and waved to the man to follow her.

As the door closed, she took a lengthy breath and laughed.

"Bravo! That was some spectacle you made. I saw everything." The mask was gone, and an arrogant smile adorned her beautiful lips.

The man parodied a bow, wearing the same smile on his face. "Took you long enough," she then added, trying to cut down his grin. "So?" She asked while moving her long hair.

"The kid is probably terrified and tired, if you can say anything about her condition. But it's her. I'm sure of it," he answered, circling around the office, touching her equipment. "Do you want her now or when she gets better?"

Madasa smiled again, but this time it was a sick and dark smile—the type that disgusted him. However, she didn't answer his question. She moved to the window slowly. "What about the rest?"

He was getting bored with this talk; he shrugged. "Inconvenient people have a tendency to die fast."

She nodded, satisfied. "No trace or witnesses?" She was keen not to leave a trail, nobody.

"No, nothing. Mother Nature did all the dirty work. The city is a dead zone now." He was getting bored with this. He had places to be, things to do. "Where is my reward?"

He had waited for six months to get paid, ever since she sent him to the ground and told him to prepare for this little trip. Unfeeling bitch. But he liked that about her. She was his sister in the end. When the collapse started, he quit medical school and started work as a mercenary. Medasa was the one who would get him the juiciest contracts.

"Tsk, tsk... We still need to pretend for a while that two million refugees mean something for us," she twitched in disgust. "You will remain here with me until the moment comes. You know I will pay you, and for everything you want, dear brother." Medana removed the suit from the child.

He agreed with some resistance. Another wall between them, another game to play. He wondered how many more.

"I was thinking, how many of them play similar games," he said, looking down through the windows at the spaceport.

"Don't be stupid, Dem. Those filthy monkeys? They are nothing more than cowards, waiting to be rescued by some divine power. Waiting for us to sacrifice everything just to save them, and then, after all is done, they will only ask for more. They always do. That's why I want to finally make some use of these dirty bastards."

"What if your glamorous experiment doesn't work?" But she didn't reply.

Demis grinned in disgust when he saw her brooding and tearful face. Just to realise the door opened suddenly, a group of people entered. He quickly made his way to the child, next to her.

"Oh, that's terrible... I am at a loss for words," Medasa's quiet words resonated in the room.