Barrenlands: An Odyssey (Old Work)

Chapter Two.

1

STUMBLING towards the pump, the Engineer rolled up the sleeves of the ragged cloth that draped its torso, and re-stowed the pulse gun carefully back into the folds. It gripped the handle and pushed downwards, expecting great resistance after uneasily eyeing the hungry rust that had encroached the joint of the mechanism. Caught out by a pleasureable but curious surprise and almost as an act of fate by the fathers, the handle moved with great ease and the sound of beautiful, gushing water filled the Engineers ears. It was a sound that hadn't be heard for weeks; it was music to its ears. The precious liquid splashed out onto the dust, quickly dampening the area and turning the sand into a saturated, dark-brown colour. The Engineer let go of the metal pole, and then crouched down besides the thirsty sand that had absorbed the water in an instant. Maybe it was the lack of rain falling from the heavens that caused the bareness of the land or maybe it was just toxicity. It was a question that nagged the back of the Engineers mind, having never seen rain fall from the sky that the Elders had so dreamily described. It laid a single gloved finger on the area, before lifting it to its eyes and then to its nostrils. The liquid was clear without a single hint of colour, and the scent didn't betray chemicals nor toxins that the Engineer knew. Satisfied with the purity of the resource, the Engineer unshouldered the water container, and held it close to the nozzle of the pump. It would sure last for the while and hopefully until the wanderer could stumble upon a new source.

Pumping and waiting for the container to fill, the Engineer gazed into the distance, inventorying the state of the decaying buildings. Walls were broken down, debris was embedded into the sand wherever it looked. It shan't be too long before those remaining start collapsing underneath its own weight, topple over like a magnificent beast lost of its legs. And that was when it spied a pair of pale-white eyes staring at it from between walls, the whites glowing in the dark almost hauntingly. It was like an hungry animal scouting its prey from the safety of the shadows. The Engineer quickly pulled out its pulse gun once more, this time instantly powering up without a qualm. The eyes weren't mutant-like; rabid or wild. They were soft and gentle, curious yet scared and those of a human, but its body remained skewed within the harsh shadows. The wanderer stood defiantly at the water pump, the gun outstretched and the cross-hairs pointed at the eyes. Having learnt hard from previous experiences throughout the years, the mere outward presence and portrayal of a person meant nothing in terms of trust and their potential to cause havoc.

"Lurker, show yourself," the Engineer growled once more. The floating eyes moved slightly to the side, and stepped out from beneath the depth of the shadows. A little girl came into view, her floral dress tattered and her porcelain-pale face covered in dirt and grime. She held her arms above her head, and her mouth began to tremble. Her dirty-blonde hair hung limply from her skull, traced with oil and contaminants, and her body seemed ragdoll weak and thin.

The Engineer lowered the crosshair sight of the gun, but only slightly. It took a moment to gaze at the girl, its eyes narrow slits and scrutinising each of the girl's movements and the way she presented herself. It finally parted its lips, quickly deciding that the girl was clearly of no threat that could overpower it. "Why be you here?"

The girl's eyes softened further, threatening to let out rivers of tears. Her throat moved as she swallowed back emotion. "I don't know where my parents are, Drifter."

Drifter.

The Engineer lowered its weapon, the barrel of it now facing the ground. "Be you a citizen of this outpost?"

"Yes, Drifter. Or I was," she paused, looking side-to-side at her crumbling surroundings. Her brows furrowed and her forehead became rippled. "Once. What is that you are holding?"

The Engineer hastily holstered the weapon, hiding it from the sight of the girl. It was the only thing of critical worth on the body, and the wanderer needn't have it stolen or taken away during the darkest of the night. That would be the end of the line; an Engineer that wasn't capable of defending itself. "It'd be nothing you need to be concerned about."

2

A harsh day had turned into a pleasant evening. The wind gusts that had belted the Engineer had slowly subdued, allowing cool winds to buffet the folds of its clothes. Overhead, the sky that stretched over the expanse of the wasteland had dramatically changed to a black blanket, plunging the landscape into eternal darkness lit only by the pallid light of the waxing moon. Thousands of stars – balls of suspended gas that one could only dream of seeing for themselves through an eye-glass – continued to wink at the weary wanderer, as if the father himself was beaming down at it from the heavens. Underneath this spread of astronomical delights sat the Engineer. Its hands were tightly clamped around the balls of its ankles as it hummed a melodic tune with its eyes closed. The tune itself was simple and rudimentary at best, but it had a property that could not have been described by any word. As by habit and nightly ritual, the Engineer withdrew the pulse gun from the fold of its clothes and laid it before its toes; a presentation of sorts to those above it. It continued to hum and ho-hum until-

"Ye touch that not." The hand that grasped the right ankle shot out, and its fingers turned into a vicelike grip around the little girl's wrist. Opening its relaxed eyes, the Engineer gazed at the feeble girls outline, her hair glowing silver in the light of the brilliant moon. Her face was dumbfounded by surprise that she had been caught out red-handed yet downturned that the Engineer had lashed out before she even had time to batter her tired eyelids.

"Your grip is like a madman's", she stammered, trying to jostle her wrist out of the Engineers tightening fingers. Although her words were quiet, the lands were dead from sound and the wanderer found the girls words deafening. Being wrapped in hardened hide gloves, the grasp would have been painful against her youthful skin. Any longer, and the flow of blood pumping through her veins would be slowly cut and her fingers would become redundant on her hand. Instinctively, it loosened its grip but only by a hairline which may have or have not have helped alleviated some of the painful sensation. The Engineer – having long hardened from the withdrawal of human emotion – refused to succumb to the fragility of the girls murmurs. There were no excuses here.

"Ye attempted to touch. Explain yourself."

"What is it?" The girl's eyes filled with curiosity, the corner of her irises peeping at the darkened contraption lying in the sand. Her face lit up; a lightbulb lightning somewhere deep in her mind. "In my world, firearms fired pellets of bullets but yours is electric."

As if shocked by lightning, the Engineers eyes widened and its eyebrows flared towards the night sky, much like that as a solar burst. In its years of traversing the barrens, the wanderer had never encountered a creature that had hinted of such memories from the past. But fate had brought to it the young lass with a trove of treasure within the gem that was its brain. Starving for the knowledge but wanting to hide the fact, the Engineer let go of the girl's hand. This knowledge – this insight – may aid future travels. She immediately withdrew it, rubbing the faint ring mark that had been left on her skin.

The Engineer paused. "Ye have many memories past?"

"Ye," she responded.