Burning Ants

Samantha Marlowe couldn't afford personal attachments. People tend to force other people to do stupid things or choose the wrong options. Staying away from all this emotional business was vital. Occupational hazard, you understand, of course.

Nonetheless, she tried. After all, Samantha had a heart. A very good one, indeed. One of those big mother hearts, always finding room for more people and work. But she failed in every attempt. Her heart's¬ ability to welcome new friends, colleagues, ideas – and loads of more work – it was as effective, cold and blunt when it came to love. Not the family type, nor the brotherly one. Sex and fun? Yes, please. She enjoyed life, but, you see, regardless of the reason being traumatic, psychological or work-related, she raised impregnable defenses around what one might call her soul, and nothing, nor anyone, could get through. She had never been in love. Nothing wrong with hers. It had just never happened.

It'd be easy to feel sorry for her. And she deserved her fair shot, by all means. Even though we might cheer, hope and try to help here or there – and I'm not pointing fingers! –, the fact is: to this day, no one ever broke those defenses, and that's why she was so fundamental for the series of events responsible for reshaping Life as we knew it – yes, with the capital L.

As most stories do, Samantha Marlowe's journey began with chaos.

And pain.

*

At the pinnacle of the XXII century, there were only two things capable of stirring up humanity's sense of adventure and send humans beyond the comfortable borders of the solar system: the voice of God or a message from another sentient species. God remained silent when it happened. The distress signal blasted through most of the major communication services on Earth and, even though not everyone saw it at first, it was intense and widespread enough to avoid any attempts of denying it. It was a fact, it happened. It was big. And it changed everything. Well, almost everything.

The message arrived on a Tuesday morning, partially frying satellites, many fiber optics cables, and creating communication blackouts throughout the globe. It lost strength as it progressed from the point of impact, a vast area somewhere in Southern Russia. The signal became data and spread across the globe. Even though it was a mechanical response to the burst of energy that traveled across galaxies until it reached Earth and overcharged the wires, the disruption itself was enough to sparkle confusion, anger, and riots.

Inside her simple house - surrounded by trees in the Pasadena suburbs - Samantha Marlowe was lucky enough not to be subjected to any of that. On the other hand, she suffered the most on that day. The house itself was almost off-grid, shielding her from many effects of the EMP, but she had something else on her plate, and it tasted horrible. It was a bad break up. It all started with a silly discussion over trimming the yard; then things went sour quickly. There was a harsh word here, a clenched fist there, and shattered China everywhere. She unleashed years of concealed pain and frustration with uncanny precision and terrible strength. She never regretted it; in fact, she needed to say it, to utter every single word of it. It was liberating; almost glorious. But he countered her arguments with disdain and his words wounded her with deep cuts that slashed straight into her soul, with no mercy.

Samantha was no monster. Samantha deserved respect for her intelligence and skills. Also, Samantha could love too much. Her mom, Eleanor, told her that when she was young, and she never doubted it. She could love, yes, but not him. He was the one who was only capable of loving himself. He had to go. It was her home, after all.

Right after Tony slammed the door shut behind him, she lost control, crumbled and, on her knees, wept for Benny.

She loved Benny for so long.