Galaxia Voyage: Joining a Cause

A SMALL DELIVERY

WALLACE

My day was going fine before I was nearly crushed by a starship.

Hi. My name's Wallace. Wallace Edwards. You can just call me Wall-E for short. I'm sixteen years old and always covered in dirt or dust. I've got brown hair, yellow eyes, and quite frankly, a terrible sense of humor.  I also always like to wear goggles everywhere in case of emergencies.

My day started out like any other in a broken world like mine.  My alarm rang at 3:00 AM, the ring piercing my eardrums like a needle.

I groaned and rolled out of the folded down cardboard box that was supposed to be my bed, and got my effects.

I put on my goggles, my brown leather jacket, and my boots, and jumped down to the lower platform where my mother was setting up a decent campfire.

I was currently living on an abandoned plane wreck in the middle of district five-A: Manhattan.  The rest of the neighborhood wasn't far behind.  They'd all found homes in some other broken down vehicles or old buildings near us.

My mother walked over to me with a look of concern on her face.

"We might make a few good deals around here for food.  I heard about some locals starting a farm over in district four-C."

I rolled my eyes.  "Mom, we don't need to make deals with anybody.  If you're thinking about trading any of our stuff for something to eat, then I'll work overtime."

"What is it with you not wanting to trade any of our junk?  It's not like it's as valuable as money was back in the day."

I took a lightbulb out of my pocket and began to observe the wiring inside of it. "It's just the little things that matter.  An old film, a television, an old cube shaped puzzle.  You don't see things like that around here anymore."

She smiled at me.  "You always did have a knack for tinkering around with everything.  Now, get out there and see if people need help with fixing-"

My friend, Tom rushed in, cutting her off.

"Hey, Wall-E."

I laid back against a wall and grinned at him.

"Hello, Roach."

"Eleven years, and you're still calling me that."  He said with a laugh.

Thomas Wyvern was by far my closest friend.  So close that I considered him a brother.  He was my age, dark skinned, wearing a black shirt along with ripped and baggy pants.

I had grown up with Tom.  He had literally been with me since I was four years old. I always called him 'Roach' for the fact that throughout the whole time we had been traveling across the ruins of the world, he always had an unusual obsession with the study of bugs, specifically that of cockroaches.

Tom looked over to my mother and smiled warmly.  "Morning, Aunt Janet."

"Morning, Thomas."  She replied, returning the smile.

Tom looked back at me.

"My dad's got crops to trade if you're interested."

"Well, what are we trading?"

"He needs someone to fix his sand glider.  Someone good with mechanics."  He explained, smirking at me.

Sand gliders were what we used to travel for long distances across the desert plains of the city ruins.  They could've more or less been described as 'hover cars'.

I pulled my goggles over my eyes.

"Challenge accepted."

My mother shouted to us as we were walking out.