DUET :Chapter 18:

WARNING: THIS IS REALLY REALLY LONG

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I’m nervous. It’s been a few weeks since Maggie had the examination and I was able to get the blood sample for the DNA researchers. Farah told me it’d probably take a month or so for them to get any solid information, but to both of our surprise, they were able to complete a report in a shorter amount of time. Apparently Maggie’s family line was well-recorded, much better than most ancestry lines. When I asked why, a shadow fell over Farah’s eyes as she answered, “Well . . . the most likely reason is that her bloodline survived the Continental Apocalypse, so her family records were able to be saved.”

“Is there another reason?” I questioned.

Her eyes fell to the ground, “It’s unlikely. Maggie is from one of the most destroyed time record sections of history. . . . It’s almost impossible-“

“What is?” I interrupted.

Farah met my eyes, her eyes translating the weight of her words, “That her bloodline is still alive.”

My eyes widened, “Still alive?”

“Yes, but the chance of Maggie having living family members is basically zero,” Farah said, becoming more flustered, “Besides, even if she does, they won’t tell us-“

“Why not?” I said, “That would be amazing!”

“I don’t think you understand, Isugoro,” Farah stated, her purple stare colder, “Jeweloids are not Human. Humans don’t see us as equals. If the Research Sector released information that a Jeweloid, especially a Class Zero like Maggie, had living Human relatives, then they’d be screwed.”

“But humans know that Jeweloids have human DNA-“ I started.

“Had; we had Human DNA,” Farah interrupted, “But when we became . . . this, then we changed. We became different, and therefore, lower. But, if there were Human relatives brought forward, then they’d have to acknowledge that while yes, composition-wise, we are different beings, at the very core; we are the same. And with that, they’d lose their ability to control us.”

I didn’t respond. No matter what I would’ve said, argued, shouted, none of it would do anything to change how things work. It’s horrible, that there’s a chance Maggie has family currently living, and because of damn politics, she can’t know. It honestly pisses me off; that the Commander and the other higher ups are so scared of losing their power that they’re totally fine with treating Jeweloids worse than dogs. None of them, at least the people I’m good friends with, have proved that they deserve this treatment. None of them deserve to be scared into submission. It’s wrong.

With the tension still high, Farah gave me their findings and left me to do what I want with it. Of course, I immediately met with Kasami to set up a day that I could take Maggie on a trip. Kasami, unfortunately, was a bit stricter than before, which makes sense since instead of taking her just out of the building, I requested taking her to another territory. He didn’t answer me that day, so I left him with the file and told him to look over it.

The next time I was able to see him, which was about three days later, as soon as I walked in, he looked right at me and said simply, “You get one day.”

He set up for us to have a private craft, putting it under his name so that neither the Commander nor HERA would become suspicious. Maggie has only been told that we’re going on a test flight, kept totally in the dark of the entire plot. Sammy picked up on my plan, but has kept silent. It seems Sammy understands how much work I’ve put into this.

Now that the day has come . . . I feel strangely hesitant. I have no idea how Maggie will react to the information in the file, especially since I decided not to look at it. My heart speeds up and slows at random, especially as I wait for Maggie at the Transportation Bay. I pace around the door, sighing as I listen to the clock. The ticking echoes through my mind, making my anxiety even more palpable as I try to mute the noise. “God dammit,” I mumble.

“What’s wrong?”

I jolt slightly, turning to see Maggie walking up to me. She blinks in surprise, apparently taken back by my strange behavior. After a moment, she pauses, only a foot in front of me as she stares up, her expression fading to concern. “Are you alright?” she asks, her voice soft.

I immediately start to tense up, but I do my best to hide my nerves by laughing a bit, gesturing to her as I speak, “I’m fine, you just surprised me.”

The look on her face says otherwise. Her eyes read her skepticism, a single brow rising as she crosses her arms. “Are you sure?” she replies.

I nod and I respond quickly, “Yup, totally fine.”

Maggie opens her mouth to speak, but doesn’t get the chance to respond as Kasami enters, “LAPIS, Jintez, good! You’re both on time.” I relax a bit, but Maggie seems irritated, probably still questioning my actions. Though, she doesn’t say anything, simply turning her attention to Kasami as he quickly joins us. He grins as he looks up at me, “The craft has been set up with the coordinates you requested. There are also supplies in there that I thought you two would find useful.”

I smile, “Thank you very much.”

Maggie just looks confused, “Wha?”

Kasami chuckles, patting her on the shoulder, “You’ll understand soon enough, Miss.”

With that, Kasami hands me a key card to the craft and the climatic file, then salutes both of us as he walks out, leaving Maggie totally speechless. It’s not until I start to board the craft that Maggie finally unfreezes, following quickly after me as she stutters, “W-Wait, what’s going on-“

“C’mon, you need to sit down so I can go ahead and lift off,” I interrupt as I walk into the cockpit. The machinery of the craft is basically the same, the information and navigation display missing only a few of the weapon and motion controls. It’s been some time since I’ve had the chance to sit in the driver’s chair, but I feel a strange happiness as I relax into the leather seat. I start pressing buttons, inserting the card to start up the engines and bring the machine to life, getting lost in my reoccurring knowledge. It’s only when I hear a short creak that I break my gaze from the screens and glance back to see Maggie just staring at me. We just watch each other for a moment, before I gesture to her to sit in the seat beside me, a bit of amusement spreading through me as I watch her confused expression. Finally, she sits down, looking slightly hesitant as she hears the operator starting to give lift-off instructions over the intercom. In my peripheral vision I can see her beginning to clutch the arms of the chair with a death grip, her eyes darting around the space. I chuckle as I look over at her, “You don’t have to look so scared. I’ve been trained to fly this type of craft.”

“What all can you do exactly?” Maggie asks, her tone exasperated.

“Um, the basics of most war protocol,” I reply, “Everyone was trained.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Maggie comments.

“Hey, in war, you need to be as flexible as possible in order to win,” I reply as I start to go through take-off procedure, “Besides, I found learning to fly fun.”

“I’m sure you did,” Maggie says, her voice still strained, “Where are we going, Isugoro?”

“You’ll see,” I reply.

“LIFT OFF.”

“Hold on,” I say, taking hold of the launch throttle. I press it forward, and the engines roar to life, causing Maggie to yell in surprise as we jump forward, moving smoothly but fast through the exit and into the sky beyond. I quickly turn on the coordinate hologram on the left side as we continue to climb in altitude, Maggie’s knuckles white as I turn the craft high in the sky, the wings cutting through the thinned air with a low buzz. After another minute I’m finally able to level us at an altitude of 40,000 feet. I sigh as I turn on the auto-pilot, making sure it’s following the projected flight track to the coordinates. I relax my grip on the control wheel, and finally turn my attention to Maggie.

She looks terrified, pressed against the chair as if she’s a part of it. I can’t help but laugh, making her annoyed as she turns her head slowly to meet my eyes. She whispers harshly, “This isn’t funny.”

“Maggie, you are overreacting,” I say, “You really should trust me more.”

“Goro, I didn’t know you could fly an aircraft until five minutes ago. I’m not going to be immediately comfortable with you taking me miles up in the air, to a location that I am now starting to question,” Maggie replies.

“You’re ok, Maggie,” I reply as I look back at the readings, “I wouldn’t have requested a private craft if I thought I was incapable.”

My attention is caught by the sound of the control tower operator coming over the intercom, asking for our status. I begin a conversation with the robotic voice, unaware of Maggie’s shocked expression as I relay details to the new tower as we enter the Nilum Territory. We don’t have another conversation for a while, Maggie scanning the horizon before falling asleep, while I focus on keeping on course. An hour passes before we begin to descend, and I reset auto-pilot. I sigh, getting up from my seat to go to the supply closet, opening the door to find coats and other winter apparel ready for both of us. Spring hasn’t begun here yet, so we have to dress for the terrain. I take the bulk of the clothing before I turn back to the cockpit, Maggie still snoring as she turns over some in her chair. I chuckle to myself as I walk over to her, leaning over to peer at her face. Her expression is calm, relaxed in a way I’ve never seen.

I grin as I whisper to myself, “Guess you know where you are.”

With that, I shake her shoulder, causing her to jerk abruptly and slap me. “Ack!” I grunt, stumbling to the ground.

She’s awake instantly, realizing her blunder as soon as I fall. “Oh my God, Isugoro, I’m so sorry!” she shouts as she jumps out of the chair, falling to her knees by my side, “I don’t normally jerk like that, I’m sorry, are you ok?”

“I’m fine, but damn, you’ve got a good back-hand,” I say as I hold my cheek, “That was sharp and intense.”

“Yeah, didn’t use to be like that,” Maggie comments, before she gasps, taking my collar, “Wait, why aren’t you flying the craft?!”

“It’s on auto-pilot, Maggie,” I reply as I loosen her grip on me, “Besides, we’re landing.”

She blinks in surprise, exasperated as she looks back towards the world outside, “Really, where are we?”

“We’re in the Nilum Territory; north of Summan,” I reply, “This area is called Defluo.”

“Defluo?” Maggie replies, “Why is it called that?”

“. . . ‘Defluo’ means ‘fading away’ in Latin,” I trail, “It’s what remains of a town that sprung up around your time.”

Maggie goes rigid. She stands without a sound, stepping closer to the windows. I can’t see her expression, but her body language reads disbelief. After a few moments of silence, I hear a deep breath, before she turns to look towards me, her eyes glassy. Her expression is intense, yet somehow soft.

“Anchorage.”

I grimace, standing as I watch her, before my eyes divert to the winter clothes I had set on the back of my chair. I grab the smaller set, and grin a little as I hold them out to her, “You’re gonna need to wear this. I hear it’s pretty cold.”

She stares at the clothes, unmoved as the auto-pilot signals us we’re starting a sharper decent. Slowly, the angle of the craft shifts, and we find ourselves leaning against the seats to keep straight. Maggie turns her eyes, watching as the grey world draws closer. Her hand reaches for the set, and takes them from me, grasping them tight as she keeps her focus on the outside. I leave her be, waiting till the craft levels out to make the final landing to walk off to get dressed in the laboratory.

My heart is racing like crazy as I put on winter tread boots and a jacket, zipping it up all the way when I find my hands shaking. I close my eyes and do my best to slow my breathing, trying to adjust my thinking to look at the situation as a mission instead of a gift. I grab the thick winter coat, my eyes opening slowly, only to find the file right in front of me. I deflate, and shake my head. This is going to be interesting to say the least.

Once I’m ready, I take a deep breath, then open the door to find Maggie ready, her eyes still glued to the windows. I put the file within my coat before I zip it up all the way, walking over quietly as I see we’re about to touch down in a little patch among evergreen trees. Green overtakes the view, and it’s not long before the craft makes a light thump against the earth, the engines easing as they sense the ground beneath them. I shut off the auto-pilot and manually shut down all the control systems, before I send a final coordinate detail to Kasami, letting him know we made it to the destination.

Soon after, the insignia of Gelus appears, telling me that Kasami has approved my message. I take the key from the bay and stand straight, before I look over to see Maggie frozen in place. I sigh, before I slowly rest a hand on her shoulder, causing her to jerk slightly in surprise. Her eyes meet mine, her stare dulled.

I show her a smile, “Let’s go.”

She finally speaks, her voice raspy as if her shock has taken her strength, “Go where?”

I step ahead of her slightly, before I hold a hand out to her, “Show me your home.”

Her composure breaks home, her eyes becoming teary as she nods, taking my gloved hand in hers before she takes the lead out of the opening craft door. The crisp cold air hits us immediately, the serene snow crunching under our feet as step into the wilderness. Maggie seems overwhelmed, knowing we’re so close to where she grew up. I pause her, catching her attention. “What?” she asks, her voice hoarse.

I lean over some, looking at her at eye-level as I speak calmly, “Listen to me, ok? What you’re going to see are mainly the steel remains of building structures. There may be a few that’re still standing but they’ll be too dangerous to enter. I’ll let you know which buildings are safe, alright?” She watches me for a moment, before she nods, leaning into me some before she turns her head to look beyond the trees. I stand straight, then grin, nudging her a bit as I speak, “Also, we’re not just going to walk for hours.”

Her brow furrows, confused. I press a code into a panel on the exterior of the craft besides the closing door, signaling the dual storage areas to open up. Maggie releases my grip to look into the dark space as ramps slide down, gasping as she sees an ATV in both. A grin breaks on her lips, and she looks up at me. I reach into my pocket, and just as I had asked Kasami, a key to one of the ATVs is sitting inside. I pull it out then gesture to Maggie. Her eyes widen, before she stuffs both of her hands in her pockets, her expression brightening even more as she whips out a key of her own. She meets my eyes, “Goro-“

“You know this area. You lead,” I interrupt as I walk up the other ramp to get the ATV. I hear Maggie running up the opposite side, making me chuckle to myself as I sit on my designated ATV. Both of our ATVs roar to life, and we back out of the storage spaces. I get off quickly to relock the craft, Maggie using the time to figure out the workings of her vehicle. I turn to glance at her, amused by her expression as the ATV jerks forward slightly. “Be light on the gas,” I say, grabbing her attention, “They’re really touchy.”

“I can see that,” she replies softly.

I grin, then get on mine, revving the engine as I ride up to her side, “Alright, you think you can lead?”

She shows me a daring grin, her eyes reading confidence all of a sudden, “Time for you to see how we ride up here.”

Without warning, she bolts, handling the ATV easily as she weaves between trees. I blink in surprise, but laugh, pressing the gas as I try to catch up with her. I can see her hair blowing in the breeze ahead, shining against the winter landscape. Once we reach the outer rim of pine trees, Maggie slows to a halt, my concern spiking as I drive up beside her. I look over at her and see her eyes are wide, taking in the strange landscape before us.

You can tell that this was the downtown area, tall steel skeletons standing all around with metal skin falling off. A few of the larger buildings appear to be in better shape than the others, trying to touch the sky despite the eerie reality. Due to the wind patterns, you can make out some of the broken road beneath it, cracked and eroding away. The wind blows past us, carrying the faded creaking of loose metal and old road equipment. Maggie catches my attention again with a sigh, her face showing some distress. I lean over some, speaking quietly, “You ok?”

She takes a deep breath, then speaks with a calm tone, “I guess I just see what it used to be.”

“What it used to be?” I repeat.

Maggie grins, then turns her eyes to meet mine, the blue melting into the yellow with an odd warmth. Without warning, everything takes on a strange hue, becoming lighter. I look back towards the town, and am caught off guard to see the crumbling city now a sprawling center of life, people walking down the streets and the eroded buildings pristine and reflecting the summer Sun. Even the evergreens are livelier, their hue more saturated amongst other plants I didn’t see before. I smile, then look back at Maggie, who catches me off guard. With the vision, Maggie has changed as well. Her skin is darker and her hair is chestnut brown, her eyes the same color. She glances back at me, and a strange wave of emotions overcome me.

She was just as beautiful when she was human.

I blink, feeling red rising in my face as I break her gaze, looking back to the colorful world beyond. Maggie giggles, amused by my flustered reaction. “Welcome to Anchorage, as I knew it,” Maggie says, her voice stronger.

“It looks like it was an amazing place to live,” I reply, keeping my eyes locked on anything other than her.

A smile rises on her lips, but it isn’t long before a shadow falls over her eyes, and she slumps some. “It was. . . .” she trails, the vision fading back to the dim reality, “I miss it.”

Neither of us speak for a moment, allowing the bleak decaying sight to sink in before we continue forward. I glance at her again, and she’s as she normally is; a Jeweloid. I feel a lump forming in my throat, understanding more than I should what it’s like to want to go back to the world before this war. Both of us want to go home.

Maggie sits straight again, and gestures for me to follow her through the abandoned streets. I follow, looking at the landscape every so often. I see flashes on the vision she showed me, and feel the ominous of the sight even more palpable. This used to be a hub of life, but now it’s being taken back by the wild.

It’s a scary image to say the least.

It’s not long before Maggie is leading us up a broken side street, the path winding through a denser patch of forest. Slowly, the decaying city retreats from our view, the undergrowth surrounding us as we continue to onto a diverging path. After a minute on this path, the world opens to reveal a cleaner mountain path, curving around the cliff edge of the grand structure. I glance over, and my breath catches. There’s a lake that flows out to the ocean beyond, iced over and reflecting the dulled Sun. I recognize it from the memorial.

That’s where Maggie fell through the ice.

I hold my tongue and look back towards her, watching her hair fly through the wind. She disappears for a moment behind the crag of the mountain side, before my eyes find her again heading down a smaller trail. She’s going slower than she was before, her head turning back and forth as if she’s trying to find something. A few minutes pass as we travel down this trail, before the forest envelops us again. The path widens, and Maggie slows even more than before. I rev up so that I can drive by her side, turning to see her face is paler than before, and it’s not just because of the cold.

“. . . Maggie, you ok?” I ask.

She jerks a bit, but quickly hides her flustered response with a nod, speaking quietly, “We’re close.”

“Close to what?” I question.

Maggie doesn’t respond, allowing the white world around us to take my attention as we exit the overgrowth and come to a plateau in the hillside. We curve as the trail does before finally something comes into view, and Maggie abruptly stops. I brake only a few feet ahead, but before I have a chance to ask her why we’ve come to a halt, she’s off the ATV and running passed me. I blink, before I quickly shut off my ATV and hop off. “M-Maggie?” I call as I run after her, stumbling some through the deep snow.

I turn and come to a halt as I see her ahead, staring blankly at the structure in front of us. The structure is strangely maintained; while falling apart, the metal siding and roof are mainly intact, though chipped and rusted. My first thought it that the building is being used as lodgings for hunters that occasionally pass through this area, though that’s stretching the possibility. Maggie steps forward, her voice hollow, “It hasn’t changed much. . . .”

“What is this place?” I ask as I follow her.

She looks back at me, and I’m caught by the tears that are starting to fall down her cheeks. She smiles faintly, laughing a bit, “This is my house.”

My eyes widen, totally dumbfounded by the fact. I thought that we may find the location, but I never imagined the exact building would still be standing after almost a thousand years. She turns to look at the house again, and shakes, wiping the tears away with her gloved hand as she chuckles a bit to herself. I guess she didn’t expect to find it waiting for her either. I walk faster so I can join her side walking up the invisible path, allowing her to put her hand in mine for support. We walk up to the front patio, and Maggie quickly pushes on the door, the old metal creaking as some of the paint dissipates under her touch. The inside is worn, some snow piled in areas where the ceiling has caved in. The wood floor is splintered in some areas, the stain long erased by the centuries of use. Maggie steps softly, observing every detail of the space, leading me by a loose grip on my fingers.

After a moment, we walk in farther, and Maggie starts to point out things. “This room was a warm brown color, and if you looked closely at some of the lower places, you could see the drawings Charlie and I drew in sharpie when we were little through the coats,” Maggie replies as she takes us left into a smaller room, “This was the private dining room. Daddy built our table, there was a steel chandelier, and there were large family photos on the walls. To make it look “fancy”, Mom had Daddy put up crown molding, but Daddy didn’t like it. He said it reminded him of Grandma.”

I chuckle, and she grins some, obviously imagining it as she knew it. We walk from the smaller room into a grand hall, the ceiling arched up roughly twenty feet towards a tall floor to ceiling window that looks out onto the hillside and the lake beyond, mountains looming in the distance. I glance over slightly, and I see a larger creak flowing down the hillside and into the woodland beyond. While the world is tinted grey, there’s an odd life to everything around us. Perhaps it’s Maggie, as she becomes even livelier with each thing she rediscovers. Her eyes light up enchantingly, even at the dumbest things like seeing that the sink in the eroding kitchen is the same as she had known it, to noting the same creak in a specific spot of the floorboards.

Though, when we approach staircase that leads to the bedrooms, Maggie slowly falls quieter, and before long, she has a tight grasp of my hand again. She walks into the first room quietly, her eyes tracing the details before she speaks, “This was Sarah’s room. It was originally a soft blue and she had a CDs strewn everywhere, especially country music.”

After a moment, she sighs, then quickly leads us out, stepping into the next room which is slightly larger; elongated in a way. She looks around then steps forward as she releases my hand. She pauses right in front of the window, and traces the pane with her finger, “This room belonged to the twins; Dawn and Sean. Those two were dorks, they loved anything weird. . . . I think this is the cleanest they ever had their room.”

“Boys are messy, it’s natural,” I say with a grimace.

She looks back at me and chuckles a little, walking back up to look up at me, “I’m guessing you’re speaking from experience.”

“You could say that,” I comment.

Maggie shows a small grin, saying quietly as she walks passed me, “You’re a weird man.”

Her comment makes me grin to myself, and I feel a bit better as I follow her into the next room, describing it simply as a hunter’s haven. She giggles some as she gestures to the crumbling closest, “Charlie kept his bows locked up in there, but I always figured out the code and would use them when we went out with Daddy. He couldn’t yell at me in front of Daddy, because I didn’t have one of my own.”

“Well aren’t you a manipulator,” I laugh as I lean on the doorframe.

“Hey, Charlie deserved it a lot of the time,” Maggie retorts, her grin fading some, “But he was a good older brother. . . .” She’s silent as she walks passed me, turning down the other hall, walking to the very end to French doors that’re barely hanging on to the hinges. She’s careful, but swift, opening one of the decaying frames to reveal a larger room that’s falling apart. Some of the floorboards have fallen in, holes dot the ceiling, and what details still exist are eerie fading into nothing. Maggie doesn’t say a word. She sighs a bit, then turns back, walking quickly to a door a few feet away. She pauses, then takes the handle and opens up another space. I follow shortly, looking around as she does to find us in a well maintained (for the age) room. “This is my room,” Maggie comments.

“Oh?” I reply.

She nods, her eyes tracing every detail of the space. She gestures to different areas of the room, speaking softly, “My bed was against those two corners, and I had a drapery over the head. I had a desk up against the window, then a lamp and a few cushions for just hanging out on the other side of the room. . . . I had a painting of a wolf and her cubs on that wall, then some random photos. I normally had clothes all over the place. . . . It made Mom annoyed but I ignored it, like most teens I guess. . . .”

Her voice trails off, her fingers tracing the frame of the closet. She halts after a moment, then looks back at me, her eyes reading a hint of pain. My brow furrows in concern. “You ok?” I ask.

“. . . Are we going to go into Alice’s room?” Maggie asks, her voice weak.

My eyes widen. I didn’t realize she was avoiding a room, but considering her reaction at the memorial, I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised by the reaction. Her youngest sister was who she was closest too, of course it would upset her to some extent. I grimace, and step over to her side, taking her hands in mine. She eyes the ground, and I lean over to peer into her face. It takes her a moment, but her eyes slowly rise, meeting mine with hesitance. I sigh, but speak reassuringly, “Only if you want to. It’s your choice.”

She watches me for a short time, before she breaks her gaze, eyeing the door. I catch her chin, returning her attention to me. She looks surprised, speaking quickly, “G-Goro-“

“Don’t force yourself to do something you’re uncomfortable with,” I interrupt.

She looks perplexed, surprised by my adamant tone. Though, it seems my words seal her decision, and she gently takes my hand and walks passed me, keeping a gently grip on my hand. “C’mon,” she says, her voice soft. I follow quietly, watching as she gently turns the knob of a door just a few feet away from her room. She looks in for a moment, before she steps inside, allowing me to join her as we enter the space. It’s smaller than the other rooms, but still decent to live in. Without warning, Maggie takes hold of my hand, squeezing it tight. I look down at her and see tears on the rims of her eyes, a grimace on her face. “. . . I spent a lot of time in here, looking after her,” she says, her voice thick with emotion, “We’d play with dolls, talk about random things that came to her mind, just be weird sisters . . . but I loved that.”

Her hand trembles some, the other raising to cup her own face, muting any type of cries that may escape her lips. In response, I release her hold, and adjust to wrap my arm around her opposing shoulder. She hides her face some in my side, but quickly returns her eyes to the room, and then, speaks, “What would they have done to her?”

I blink, looking down at her, “What?”

Maggie shakes her head, her eyes tracing the floor before she seems to let go of the thought. She breathes a deep breath, before she glances up at me. Her eyes are serene, the blue seeping into the yellow like water color. My curiosity is stunted by her gaze, a strange sensation spreading through me as I watch her. It’s something like affection, but something is slightly different. In what way? I’m not sure.

She says nothing else, leading me out of the house with a gentle grip on my sleeve. I don’t question her actions; I have no right to. Though, she halts about five feet from the porch, and her eyes widen, gasping slightly as she turns and looks up at me, “Do you have anything I could use to dig?”

My eyes widen as I repeat her words, “Dig?”

“Yes, dig!” Maggie replies, her voice suddenly excited.

“Uh. . . .” I trail, “Wait a second.” I run off back to the ATVs, Maggie close behind as I immediately begin to look through the survival bag attached to the seat. There’s a few knives, a couple bags of rations, a flashlight, a map, an emergency flare, etc. I look carefully, before I finally eye something that may work. It’s a retractable ice pick. I pull it out as it is; a simple stick with a button on the end, and once clicked, the blade comes up, causing Maggie to jerk back in surprise. Though, it’s short lived, as a grin forms on her face and she takes it from me.

“This will work,” she says as she walks over to her ATV.

As she throws her leg over and sits on the vehicle, I step over to question what’s happening, “Where are we going?”

She gestures to me to get on mine as she speaks, “My spot.”

I blink, but follow her as she speeds off on the ATV. I speed up as she drives around a mountain path, the snow getting deeper the farther up we travel. Everything is white, the purest of the shade I’ve ever seen. Everything fades into a bleached consistency, only changing due to shadow and distance. We ride through a small patch of forest before the world opens to a dead end; the crest of the lower peak. Maggie stops about five feet ahead of me, her eyes alert as she turns off the vehicle and hops off. She hurries over as I step off of mine, and tugs at my sleeve, causing me to stumble some as she pulls us ahead. “M-Mag-“ I start.

“C’mon, c’mon. . . !” Maggie urges, pulling me harder through the deep white.

I sigh, following her without another word as we slowly make our way to the cliff side. From this point, I’m amazed that we can see miles out into the wilderness, flatter places merging naturally into the hills and the far off mountains. To one side, over the tips of the pine forest, you can see the murky grey waters of the pacific churning and recycling off the banks of the dead city. It’s a marvelous sight, but in a way, it’s almost terrifying. It’s a perfect metaphor of what how we could tear the world apart, and that our world . . . it isn’t eternal.

“Isugoro, help me.”

I blink, looking over to see Maggie doing the oddest thing; digging quickly through the snow like a dog who wants to hide their bone. I raise an eyebrow as I step over to her side, looking at the surroundings. Close to where she’s working, there’s a thick tree, its branches looming above our heads, reaching to the heavens. Unlike the rest of the trees I’ve seen, this one is bare; lifeless. It’s an eerie image; that of all things Maggie would search for, she’d find the one dead tree in entire area.

Maggie rolls her eyes slightly, hearing part of my thoughts, “Isugoro, it’s a deciduous tree.”

“What does that mean?” I reply.

“Didn’t you take simple science?” she says as she looks up at me, “Deciduous means it sheds its leaves in the Fall and that they grow back in the Spring. It’s not dead, it’s just dormant.”

“Oh yeah, I haven’t heard that word for a long time,” I say, searching my mind back to ancient memories of school.

Maggie’s brow furrows, “. . . Oh yeah, you only went to school until you were 16.”

“And you only went ‘till you were 17,” I reply.

Neither of us speak, prompting Maggie to return to her digging. I stand watching the tree a moment longer, before I finally kneel and start to help her. After a minute of us moving snow, we finally hit dirt. Maggie grins a bit, before she pulls out the ice pick. I back up and watch as she begins to stab the ground, pulling up chunks of earth with each hit. For a few minutes, she continues strong and easy, using her capabilities of telekinesis to move the bits of dirt that threaten to fall back into the growing hole. Though, she halts, rotating her shoulders some. Without a word, I take the pick from her grip and do as she had been, allowing her a break as she still moves the rubble with her mind. She moves her eyes to me, speaking quietly, “You’re not going to ask why you’re digging?”

I pause a moment, meeting her gaze before I chuckle, hitting the ground once again, “I don’t think I’d be doing this if it wasn’t to find something you think is important.”

Red rises in her cheeks, more than the cold already had brought forward. She smiles slightly but diverts her eyes, as if she didn’t want me to see her reaction. I don’t comment, but I grin as I continue to work.

She really is cute.

My mind halts as the random thought crosses through my conscious. Luckily, my body continues to work, but even so, I’m totally perplexed. Why did that come up?

CLANK

“Stop!” Maggie says, taking the pick from my grip and throwing it aside. I’m distracted from my confusion as she digs with her hands, slowly revealing a metal box trapped in the earth. Her expression brightens ten-fold, and she claps excitedly as she uses her mind to lift it from its resting place. It floats gently to her hold and she stands slowly, using her capability to undo the rusted locks. I follow suit, looking over her shoulder to find that inside the eroded box . . . are small trinkets. There are remnants of books, folded pieces of paper, faded photos of children, arrowheads, and few pieces of homemade jewelry. Maggie cringes some, and for the first time, tears actually escape her eyes. Her balances slips some, and she leans against me for support. Her tears stain my coat, her grip on the old container shaky.

A strange sensation consumes me, and I find there’s nothing I can do but wrap my arm around her. My gut twists in an empathetic pain, while my mind seems consumed with a different type of emotional connection. It’s strong, again similar to affection, but this sensation is stronger. My grip tightens slightly, and alarms begin to sound in my mind. I don’t know what this is. I don’t know what’s wrong.

To escape the odd moment, I reach into my jacket and pull out the slim envelope, catching Maggie’s attention. She sniffles as she watches me open it, the wind catching the edge of the papers as I pull them out. I breathe a deep breath before I read the information aloud, “The Smith Family can be tracked successfully to the year 2783, when the name’s lineage ended with no more male heirs. The Smith family born at the beginning of the second millennium is recorded to have consisted of James and Amy Smith; Married until their deaths; natural causes at the late ages of seventy-nine and eighty-six. Oldest; Charles Smith, married Jessica Rodes at the age of twenty-six, became a successful cargo pilot and eventually had four children; three boys, one girl. Charles died at the age of eighty-one of natural causes. Maggie Smith; whereabouts unknown. Sarah Smith; married name: Sarah Camble. Sarah married Kyle Camble at the age of twenty-three, became a journalist in San Diego, and eventually had six children; two boys, four girls. Sarah died at the age of seventy-one from alhemizer’s disease.”

Maggie is silent, her eyes wide as I continue, “Dawn Smith; Dawn married twice, first to Heather Matthews at age twenty-two, then Patricia Sanders at the age of thirty-six. Altogether, Dawn had five children; three boys with Heather, twin girls with Patricia. He became a construction manager, and died at the age of forty-seven from a heart attack. . . . Sean Smith; Sean married once to a Rebecca Kently at age twenty-five, but the two divorced and Sean never remarried. Sean became a single father and main care-taker of their two children; a boy and a girl. He worked alongside his brother Dawn in construction management until Dawn’s untimely death, then he moved the family to Iowa to take a desk job in the same company. He died at the age of eighty-two from natural causes. . . .”

My eyes read the next part, but my voice leaves me as I understand what I see. Maggie knowingly looks up at me, her eyes wet with silent tears, before she speaks weakly, “Please go on. . . .”

Her words prompt me forward, and I talk quietly as the wind catches my bangs, “. . . Alice Smith; married name: Alice Smith-Watson. Alice married Peter Watson at the age of twenty-four, and had seven children; four boys, three girls. Alice became a singer and entertainer, and wrote a best-selling novel named Ice Breaker; a memoir recounting her life and how her guilt over her older sister’s disappearance prompted her to live life to the fullest. . . . She died at the age of a hundred and three from natural causes-“

“Alice . . . !”

I drop the papers as Maggie falls into me, catching the box as we stumble to the ground. She doesn’t hold back anymore, sobbing despite the icy temperatures threatening to freeze her tears. I wrap my arms around her and pull her closer to warm her up, her head resting against the crook of my neck. She hides her face in the fleece of my hood, though her breath still finds a way to hit my skin, prompting the strange sensation from before to return with an intense burst through my body. It mutates, the affectionate-like emotions twisting into something more sinister, but I still have no idea what it could be. My breathing strains a little, and find my hold on her once again tightens, embracing her almost possessively. Maggie doesn’t seem to notice the change, focused only on the intense information I just gave her.

She begins to whimper a bit, trembling in my arms. The action draws me back to reality, and I immediately begin to console her, shushing her slightly as I nuzzle her a bit. She nuzzles back a bit, her breath catching my ear slightly. A jolt of the sensation spears up my spine, causing me to sit stock straight. My breath catches by I make sure she doesn’t know. With my greatest will power, I push the strange emotions back, and I sigh as I lean my head slightly on hers.

We don’t move for a moment, allowing me enough time to compose myself before I chuckle, and whisper gently into her ear, “. . . Happy Birthday.”

Her response is golden. She pulls away instantly, meeting my eyes with a look of shock. Slowly, red rises in cheeks, and her surprise fades to embarrassed confusion, her brow furrowing as she searches my gaze. “What do you mean?” she asks.

“Your birthday passed while you were still in the Capital, so I wasn’t able to be there,” I explain with a small smile, “I thought the least I could do was get you some answers.”

Her eyes widen once again, and slowly, she turns and finds the papers lying on top of the snow, at risk of blowing away at any moment. She picks them up, and reads over them quickly, her expression changing to sorrowful amazement before she meets my eyes again. “You . . . You had them look up my family?” she says, her voice coarse due to emotion.

I nod, then grin, “You shouldn’t have to wonder if they were happy.”

With that, Maggie throws her arms around my neck, opening the tear gates again as she cries, though this time I assume it’s from appreciation or happiness. I hug her tightly, my mind easing as her hand interlaces in my hair. A familiar warmth spreads through my body, and I relax, eased to invite the recognized emotions in. I nuzzle her some as the feeling envelops me, and as if Maggie senses it too, she relaxes her arms and turns her head.

Her breath catches my ear again, and the dreaded feelings threaten to spark back to life. I squeeze my eyes shut, and turn my head, willing the strange sensation to go away. Maggie’s hold loosens, and she looks at me with tear filled eyes, smiling as she rests her forehead against mine, “. . . Thank you.”

I chuckle, “You’re welcome.”

In that short moment, I watch Maggie’s eyes dash between me and the snow, the gaze thoughtful and debating. It seems she does come to a quick decision, smiling again as she releases me, reaches for the box I had sat in the snow beside us, and stands. She offers me a hand, and I take it, gripping it tightly as she amazingly pulls me to my feet. She’s stronger than she looks.

Without warning, a flash of light sparks on her face. She flinches some, then blinks, touching her face to investigate. She quickly gasps, and looks at me with a bit of worry, “Isugoro, the snow is that’s hitting my skin is melting faster.”

As soon as she stops speaking, another spark lights on her forehead, prompting an ow. I look for a moment, then take her hand, speaking gently, “C’mon, let’s get back to the craft.” She looks hesitant, her eyes turning back to the landscape beyond. The wind catches her hair, blowing her hood all the way off as small sparks fall from her face. I watch her quietly, taken by her appearance. Just like at the waterfall, she looks other-worldy. Her face is elegant, her cheeks a warm pink due to the frigid weather.

She’s so beautiful . . .

Once again, I’m caught by my thoughts, but before I can debate the meaning, Maggie cringes, gasping sharply as a larger spark cracks off her skin. She holds the box tight to her chest, protecting it as she stumbles into me, sparks now starting to fly off her wrists and legs. I hold her slightly, then sigh, leaning over and pick her up off the ground. She’s caught off guard as I cradle her in my arms, but doesn’t protest, silent as her eyes look back to the world she has to leave behind, giving her own type of goodbye.

The wind picks up even more than before, stirring up the snow. Maggie jerks ever so slightly as the snow hits her exposed skin, using her free hand to adjust her hood again. I walk fast to the ATVs, placing Maggie on hers before I walk over to mine, putting in the key with a code. Maggie looks perplexed as the engine on mine roars to life despite me not turning the lever, or even sitting on it, then even more so as I walk back to her ATV and sit behind her. “Isugor-“ she starts.

“I’ll drive. I programmed the other to automatically follow this one,” I explain as I rev the engine, then start us forward, “Just relax, I can get us back.”

“Why can’t I drive?” she asks.

“One; I don’t want you to drive off a cliff because you got hit by snow, and two; . . . if you’re driving you can’t really look around. . . .” I trail.

Her eyes widen, before she goes quiet, turning back to face the front, prompting me to go faster down the abandoned mountain path. I slow only as we pass Maggie’s home. Her eyes lock on the building, her gaze relaying that she’s encoding every detail into her memory. As it fades behind the crag, she looks away, tears once again falling down her face. I move my hand slightly to touch the one she has gripped on the handlebar, and she responds by leaning back into me. I grimace, the strange sensation from before threatening to consume me. I ignore it as best I can by losing myself in the white wonderland, totally consumed by the brilliant eeriness until I find that we’ve somehow arrived back to the craft. I slow to a halt, surprised that Maggie hasn’t moved to get off. I glance down, and to my amazement, Maggie has somehow fallen asleep, her hands still gripping the handle and the box.

I can’t help but chuckle, wrapping her up in my arms after I take out the key to the ATV. Once they’re both powered down, I somehow unlock the craft, walking in and placing her gently into her chair. She doesn’t make any move to indicate she’s waking up soon, making me smile as I start up the craft, then take the box and the files and place them in one of the secure drawers. Once done, I take a deep breath, rubbing the back of my neck as I look back at Maggie. Her expression is relaxed, though somehow pained, drawing me in as I walk over and kneel beside her. Without thinking, I pull off my gloves and reach a hand up to adjust her bangs. She turns her head slightly in response, grumbling slightly. Watching her, I chuckle.

Every day, I spend more and more time with her. Every day, I learn more and more about her. Every day, I feel more and more of the emotions I never thought I’d regain. As I look down at her, I admit to myself that I really have put her ahead of myself. I want her to be safe and happy. I grin, though my innocent thoughts are diverted by Maggie jumping slightly under my touch, her eyes opening drowsily. I retract my hand immediately, whispering, “Sorry, I woke you up-“

I’m caught off guard as she kisses me on the cheek. I gulp slightly, my mind blank as I she speaks quietly, “Thank you.”

I can’t stop my cheeks from flushing more than they already are, my eyes doing everything to not meet hers. My mind is foggy, and just as I had feared, that sensation stabs up my spine with renewed vigor. Noticing my rigidness, Maggie slumps some, obviously still half-asleep as she leans over and whispers in my ear gently, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out. . . but this is greatest present anyone has given me. . . .”

Her words are drowning in raw affection, numbing my inhibitions ever so slightly as I nuzzle her some, my hand somehow finding hers. She giggles lightly, music that distracts me from the sensation reaching my neck. The alarms that normally go off by this point are muted by the strange feelings that are beginning to spread through me, but for some reason I don’t care. My concern is falling apart with each breath that hits my ear, replaced with my delayed realization that somehow I’ve moved to be in front of the chair, on my knees at eye level with her. She pushes me away slightly, saying with a strange hint to her voice, “It’s warmer in here.”

While normally, unzipping a winter coat is boring, as the poison finally consumes the rest of me, I find her simple action to be the tipping point. I take a sudden, but tight hold of both of her wrists, catching her off guard as I pin her back against the seat. Her heart races as I begin to kiss her collarbone, her breath catching sharply. After a moment, I release one of her hands, mine traveling slowly from her shoulder down her side, until I find the zipper still half zipped up. I quickly undo the rest, Maggie’s breath relaying her own emotions as her freed hand grips my shoulder tightly. My lips travel up to her neck, my wandering hand reaching up to the top of the sleeve to pull it off. Maggie doesn’t put up a fight, actually releasing her hold so I can fully remove the coat sleeve. I reach her cheek, and she gasps, the tone high and intoxicating, “G-Goro. . . .”

This isn’t safe; in fact, this is breaking the Law. None of this should be happening. I shouldn’t want this, I shouldn’t want to touch her at all, but I can’t help it. I’m totally consumed by her.

I want her.

I’m stabbed through my gut with that thought. The sensation completely dissolves within milliseconds, and I open eyes to find I’m only a centimeter at best away from kissing her on the lips. I immediately begin to panic. I fall back, almost hyperventilating as I finally realize what just happened. Maggie falls back against the chair, dazed. I look at her for a moment, and from the expression on her face, she doesn’t know if what just happened was real or not, perplexed. I can’t allow her to see me like this. I need to get away.

My body acts without instruction, and before I can comprehend what’s happening, I find myself stumbling over my own feet and I’m met by the intense cold of the snow outside. I pant hard, shaking the powder off of my head as I prop myself up. My eyes dart, and as the harsh wind slaps my face, the gravity of what I’ve done hits me. Against my will, I’ve just made things fifty times worse for myself. I’ve let her in, barely, but it’s still more than I’ve let anyone in years. By doing so, I’ve fallen deeper into a bad situation. That feeling, that strange mix of emotions I haven’t experienced before, it’s terrifying. The Commander’s words from a few weeks ago enter my mind, and I tense up. He said something about animalistic qualities. I grip my head tight in my trembling hands. That wasn’t affection. That was an animal nature.

That was lust.