CANAISIS ∞ Chronicle One ∞ 2: A Captain's Journey

45 ∞ The Promise

Long Ago

This time, Ayla was aware of the darkness she floated in. She heard the voice whispering beside her and felt the calm enveloping her, even as the memory started to take her. She had her awareness of herself—she would not lose herself this time.

It started with the sensation of cold in her hands and feet, the sound of a wind blowing in the distance, growing closer. She held dearly onto her awareness as her vision cleared, and gradually, the wind became real.

«This is the most probable area, Captain,» Canaisis said in Ayla's ear. But it wasn't her ear anymore—it was the Captain's.

The blackness of twilight pressed upon him, even though it was dayside on the planet. Behind him rose the broken buildings of a dead city, but before him, they ceased. A metal fence rose above his head, fading beyond the illumination from his helmet, with ash blowing through the openings, forming strange patterns.

He looked left and right. In the distance to his right, a portion of the fence bent inward. Deciding that was the best way to seek the entrance, he lifted his tired legs and continued his trek. Sometimes, only the metal rod in his right hand kept him from falling over. Sometimes, it was the taut rope over his shoulders as he pulled the sled. His ragged breaths were loud inside his helmet, his vision wavering sometimes, but he kept going, trudging through the ash.

The fence slats glared back at him in the helmet lights, slumping over more and more, the further he progressed. With grace, they arced over until the top of the fence touched the ash-covered ground. His limbs felt like lead when the realization hit him. The fence hadn't been pushed over. Heat. The fence had experienced extreme heat until the metal had softened.

Too numb to care, too tired to attempt climbing between the slats, he pushed onward along the sagging fence. If he'd had the energy, instinct would have told him he would have lost his way inside, with no frame of reference to guide him.

The fence seemed to go on forever, but he'd lost all sense of time. There was no beginning, no ending to the now, to the eternal ash. Eventually, he reached a broken column, and a small sense of relief washed over him. He'd found the entrance. The huge marble sign confirming it glowed unnaturally in this God-forsaken world, reflecting his helmet lights. The wind had blown it free of ash as it lay there at an angle on the ground. He halted in front of it and looked at the small line inscribed at the bottom corner, 'Donated by Captain Gareth Levant, Dedicated to All Who Travel the Stars, and Their Loved Ones'.

Ayla felt a disdainful smile creep onto the Captain's lips as he stared. Little did it matter now—the price he'd paid had been for nothing. He wondered vaguely what Caitlin would make of this now, but it was a part of his mind that felt separate from himself.

His legs collapsed under him, and he landed on his knees. It didn't hurt, his separate self realized. He was too cold.

«Captain,» the voice sounded inside his ear, «are you alright?»

"Yes, Canaisis, I'm fine," he answered tiredly.

«No, Captain, you're not. Your vitals are in distress. You must seek shelter immediately.»

He forced himself to raise his head against the weight of his helmet and panned the lights around him.

"There's no shelter, so leave me be."

«I cannot leave you, Captain. Your duty is to survive and carry on the Mission.»

"Are we back to that again, Canaisis?"

«No, we're discussing shelter. I detect a large structure ahead of you. It will provide wind protection.»

Gripping the metal shaft with both hands, he forced himself to rise. He leaned forward and put out his foot to take a step, but the rope around his waist pulling the sled held him in place. He slung the rope over his other shoulder and, pulling from his resolve, he forced his legs to work. The sled grated against the ash as it followed.