CHAPTER 2
He smoothed out the sandy dirt that lay around him. He opened his eyes, and with great effort sat up. All around there was nothing but sand. Purple sand. He scooped and hand full then dropped it into his other palm. He did the same again but with his opposite hands. Through the grains, he watched a semi-violent wind scour a never ending vista of desert.
Above him two great sun hung in the sky, overlapping each other.He felt the heat hit him and wiped away the sweat on his brow with his long black cloak.
The black cloak looks good, but it feels like a fucking sauna.
He ripped it off and sat naked allowing the foreign breeze to wash over him. He felt his skin, it was tighter, younger. He smiled - at least their was one benefit to his work.He got to his feet with ease, feeling his energy come back to him. He felt younger than he did on the dying world, and supposed it was thanks to the magic of the Cyclon ball...
...He looked around for the bright light orb. It usually had some preliminary information, some objectives. Unsatisfied, Julian walked on a little and circled the place he had landed. He expected a rotating ball to greet him at any moment. He braced himself for that imitation voice, that human voice that they put on to try and level with him. But neither of these came.
He returned to his black cloak which had been blown further away. As he approached it, it fluttered away and landed about fifty metres from where he stood. He smiled a little at natures game. With his new found strength, he ran and pounced on it before the wind could move it again. He laughed but then stopped as he saw something glinting in the near distance.
At first, he crawled towards it, ignoring the hot sensation in the under side of his hands from the scorching sand. He shielded his eyes from the brightness of it as he approached it. Then, he realised that it was not the sun that was causing the glow. The thing was flickering on and off. Like a beast, he scrambled towards it on his belly. A five billion year life-span told him to be wary of unknown metal objects on weird looking planets. When he got just three feet from the piece of metal he heard a faint hum.
Squinting, he reached towards it but before he could get close enough to touch it a jolt of blue electric shot from the metal and hit his hand. He fell back, his fingers throbbing.
The hum quickened and grew louder, as if the (machine!) was powering up. Julian shook his head as the thing started to rotate and a white light fell around it.
That is what's in the middle of a Cyclon ball?
Julian climbed to his feet and faced it with renewed hatred.
"We apologise for the messy transition to your new assignment Julian."
He smiled, "apology accepted."
"Your tone of voice expresses sarcasm and a hint of flippancy. Is our reading correct?"
"Extremely."
The Cyclon ball span rapidly, "Julian, we appreciate your humanity. Perhaps we should discuss the great comics of your home world?"
He gritted his teeth.
"What is wrong? Can we not be humorous as well Julian?"
He shook his head, "Some humour is distasteful. I do not know my home world. I find your comments hurtful."
The ball did not speak for a few minutes. "We would like to apologise in order to remain on good terms, Julian."
"How about cut the apologies and tell me a little about my home world?" He watched the orb of light flicker, almost as if thinking about it. He edged closer. "Go on," he prompted.
"Your..."
He was inches away from the ball now, perhaps they finally would tell him about his past. He licked his lips.
"Your quest for knowledge does not require unimportant details of the World of Immortals."
The World of Immortals. He had dreamed of that place, where people like him, people who could live forever with the right treatment, thrived and ruled.
"Fuck the quest for knowledge--"
The voice of the Cyclon ball overpowered his own. "You have been transported to a desert planet. We, the Cyclons have detected life here but due to science you do not understand, we cannot locate it using the robotics of the Cyclon ball. You shall report to us about this civilisation using your usual methods. More Cyclon balls will join you to transport data between Cyce and this world."
Julian looked around him. He saw nothing but sand. If there was civilisation on this planet then it was very well hidden. He spat into the sand.
"And when I'm done? Will you keep your promise this time?"
"The Cyclons do not break a promise, Julian. This is your last world before your service is complete."
He laughed so hard he felt a pain in his stomach. The ball just span, received the data and transmitted it through the atmosphere of the current universe back to Cyce where the Cyclons were watching. They were not laughing.
They repeated, "We do not, Julian, despite your doubts. This world will die in thirty years. You will monitor that death--"
A bang came from nowhere and the Cyclon ball exploded in a shower of sparks. Julian hit the floor and using his elbows slid along, trying to find some sort of safety, all the while searching the land for his new enemy.
Another blast sounded over the desert. Julian felt his heart pulse against the ground. His lip trembled with adrenaline. As he slid through the shards of the Cyclon ball, he felt the skin on his chest tear and that warm, sickly feeling of blood smear down his abdomen. He bit his tongue to try and stifle the pain, but another, louder shot acted as a quick remedy.
He kept low. His eyes flicked from the sky to the horizon line.
If the Cyclons couldn't see the attacker, how the hell can I?
He trembled again, blood dripping down his chest.
Bang. Another shot. This time it was louder. They were getting closer, whoever 'they' were.
A thought kept repeating in his mind. The Cyclons couldn't see them. He shook his head. They themselves had admitted that they could not see the life on this planet but had detected some kind of civilisation.
The shooting had subsided. Julian breathed hard, catching his breath. He remained as quiet as he could, just incase his unknown foe were using sound sensors. He wiped his chest then brought his hand to his face. There was quite a bit of blood. He sighed as he felt the gashes with his hands, the were deep.
He looked up at the two suns in the sky for the next few minutes. Then, an incredible dry sensation formed in his mouth. He was thirsty and in the middle of a desert with someone or something trying to kill him. And he couldn't see it... the Cyclons couldn't see it.
He rolled over onto his back and slid through the purple sand using his arms to propel his body forward.
A fierce wind blasted him forward. After a mouthful of sand he screwed up his face and waited out the sand eddy. When he opened his eyes he couldn't help but smile. A few hundred yards away, the wind had blown the sand away from an old tin house, riddled with rust, derelict.
He stood up and sprinted over to it, narrowly missing whatever bullets the invisible men were using.
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