Firefly Season: Draft & PLANNING
Locations: unknown, World Zero - River House
River House is a retreat of sorts. Nestled in a southern mountain range and set beside a river.
Cast:
Jace | Henri
Creature
Lake
Yellow-grey clouds blanketed the sky. This sickly haze diffused the rays of a brutal red sun, and, when the wind was just right, the air would sparkle with fireflies: drifting particles that would catch and reflect bits of light through the haze. Sometimes, after a few too many drinks, old heads and dreamers would trade stories about different skies and fireflies of another kind, but no amount of alcohol or stories could change the facts.
“We’ll be home soon, Hen.” Henri looked away and said nothing. Unfazed, Jace double-checked their protective gear and tightened fit his mask before taking one more look through the scratched glass. Fireflies lit the low-lying haze with reds and purples and flecks of sudden bright light. It was like a snow globe Jace had seen at the museum before the building burned down. It was the kind of weather that made distances difficult to judge and spawned storms without warning: beautiful, dangerous, and the only sky Jace had ever known. Pulling his goggles into place, he opened the airlock door and stepped into the haze.
A stench of metal and electricity made the air feel solid. The ringing in his ears was punctuated by the ragged gasps of his own labored breathing. Then, suddenly, Henri’s familiar voice broke through the chaos, immediately followed by the grating sound of strangers. Willing his eyes to open and his body to move, Jace tried to call for Henri. Instead, a liquid — hot and tasting of metal — filled his mouth and spilled down his chin, choking him and his words. A cold dampness was coming into focus. It was a sharp contrast to the burning throughout his body and heat spilling from his mouth. Air. A different panic constricted his lungs. Not safe.
“Hen, Hen, come’ere, Hen. It’s okay.” Jace choked out the words through the taste of metal. Then as suddenly as it began, this brutally loud dark world went silent.
“What do you know about algae?” Creature stood by the window and spoke with their back to the room. Five, six, seven seconds passed with only the soft sounds of breathing and clothes rustling and water and wind outside. “Very well. Algae is an aquatic plant-based life form responsible for producing over 87% of our oxygen. Excessive growth can cause oxygen-deprived aquatic zones resulting in localized ecological collapse…”
Fin looked up from her diligent note-taking. From the corner of her eye, she noticed a commotion on the beach. Only half-aware of what Creature was saying, Fin raised her hand.
Conditions: light rain with gusting N-NE winds ranging from 15 to 23 knots.
Both individuals appeared severely disoriented and have been admitted to medical for treatment and observation.
[add description of the hallway he's in]
Lake tucked the memo into his pocket and continued towards the noise complaint. Well, that certainly was diplomatic.
Carefully, nervously, Jace felt his face. Bare skin, fresh scrapes, bandages. His gear was gone. His hands stung. There was an ache down his back. And all around him was a nest of blankets. Deep breaths to fight down panic. Distant unfamiliar noises. Why were his eyes covered? Henri?
”Henri?” Jace felt the blankets. [becoming more and more agitated]. Half asleep.
“You’re a terrible liar,” an unfamiliar voice spoke as if it were saying the most obvious fact. “Just for the record.”
[Lake opens the door in time to see a panicked-looking young man suddenly fall into a deep rest. [Creature looks unrepentant.]
A dream:
let his mask dangle. Finally. Nothing but the fresh air and a distinct lack of people on his walk home. Park shortcut path was overgrown compared to two weeks ago, but J shrugged and shouldered past drooping branches of yellow flowers. Multi flora rose dragged at the reusable bags. Clinking the cans of cat food inside. Things are just a little different. Darker, brighter plants and flowers, humid. Hidden sun instead of the blue sky a moment ago. J shouldered past the last branch and, warily glancing at the suddenly hazy sky, hurried across the street. Familiar and unfamiliar sounding indistinguishable words drifted to the window. Fell asleep.
Tap. Tap. Tap tap. Tap. [Henri has a mischievous glint in his eyes. Pausing from tapping the human in the face, he curled his tail around to tickle Jace’s nose and leaned forward. ]
“Hey. Hey. You awake?”
“I—wha?” Jace bolted upright. Ouch. “Damnit, Hen, you know I’m not used to that.” He was cut off by a riot of laughter erupting from his bedside [snaps a sideways halfhearted yet scathing comment to Creature]. “For such a small person you sure make a lot of noise.”
”Henri,” Creature was nearly incoherent with laughter. “—he went flying,” Henri jumped back onto the bed and settled on Jace's lap.
“You’re up!” Henri was delighted. “How are you feeling? Awake?” Jace thought for a second. Between Henri’s newfound ability to speak and this budding friendship with Creature, sarcasm took unprecedented levels of commitment. Sincerity was safest.
”I think I’d like to go outside.”
“Nineteen. He’s reached for his face nineteen times already.”
“I counted twenty-three.” Lake said. Playful bickering preceded the two friends as they made their way through the garden paths. Catching bits and pieces from where he sat with Henri, Jace sat up straighter and tilted his head to try and listen better. All he heard was Henri closing his mouth with a click.
“Were you gonna say something?” As if in response, the wind turned, bringing Creature and Lake’s conversation came into clearer focus.
“How come you keep touching your face?” Creature materialized. “You’ve reached for something on your face between twenty-one and twenty-nine times since being outside.” Seeing Henri’s amused tail twitch, Creature winked before dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. “I said twenty-one. Lake says twenty-nine, I think he’s wrong.” Behind Creature’s words the sound of crushed stone signaled Lake’s approach. His footsteps were steady and unhurried. It made him easy to recognize.
“What my friend here is trying to ask,” Lake said with a hint of wry apology, “is if you’re alright.” Jace tilted his head and felt the cool stone bench with the palm of his hand before replying. There was space to his left and Henri on his right. All around them were unfamiliar sounds.
“I think so. This is just…different.” Jace thought back to the layers he used to wear while riding across town making deliveries. “Back home, I couldn’t be out like this even if I wanted to. And Hen—no way.”
”Is that why you keep touching your face?” Creature was louder. Or closer.
“I guess, maybe? It’d be nice to see.” Jace said. “But yeah. I used to wear all sorts of layers. All over.” Jace thought back to the day they arrived in this strange new place. “Getting Hen to his vet appointment—“
”Which, by the way, you lied about.” Henri interjected. Jace ignored the comment.
“Going out meant masks and filters and full riding gear. The air, it’s not safe to breathe. It’s full of fireflies.”
As he said it Jace remembered this place didn’t have fireflies. “Uh. Stuff in the air. When it sparkles the whole world lights up. It’ll kill you from the inside out.”
Jace talks about home
Lake watched closely. The young man was expending a lot of effort.
“Of course I did, I lied every time we went to the vet.” Jace’s shrug ended in a barely-hidden wince and a shudder. Lake, Henri, and Creature exchanged glances.
“It’s about time to go check some traps. And you, young man, should rest.” Lake said firmly, giving Henri a look as if to say “back me up here.”
“I, for one, would like a nap. Which means you will also nap.” Henri said, jumping down from the bench and yawning with a dramatic stretch. Jace sighed as Henri and Creature began to walk away, talking loudly enough to hear but not understand. Standing took obvious effort, as did steadying himself, but Jace did both without reaching to Lake for assistance. Wordlessly, side-by-side, and following the chatter of their friends, Jace and Lake slowly navigated the short distance back to bed.
Memory:
“You get lost or somethin?” A toothy grin and playful eyes appeared out of the fog. “Took you long enough. Did you bring your map?”
Lake shook his head.
The dirt-smudged creature held out a wrinkled piece of equally dirty paper.
Start wherever you land, that's the trick of it. Lake snorted as he took in their surroundings. Fog, fog, and more fog. Great. Sounds of running water came from every direction and the rough crushed stone underfoot said this was not their destination.
“Lake?" Turning, Lake laughed despite himself: Creature flourished a mysteriously procured stick. [bouncing in place then into the fog] "Let’s go!”
“Look under the bridge. Don’t fall in.”
Insufferable, Lake thought fondly. No one could hope to see what Creature could, not this far out. Lowering himself to the ground, Lake crept closer, pausing only when a stone bridge materialized from the fog. Flat and weathered, it was small and unassuming. Dark water swirled below.
Creature gleefully dropped to the ground and crawled to join their friend. There it was! Right where the light changed, just inside the shadow of the bridge. Bubbles popped to the surface in quick succession. The hint of jointed legs followed by the thrashing of webbed feet.
“Did you see it? It’s a massive ten-footed water bug.” Creature sounded unduly pleased with themselves. Lake looked at the bridge, then at the ground--mere inches from his nose-- then back at the bridge, before crawling back from the edge with a sigh. The grass was long against his face and he could feel dampness working into his clothes.
“Remind me.” Lake glanced at Creature. “How large do ten-footed water bugs usually get?”
“Depends. Ocean bugs can grow until they die— ah. Right. These ones? Usually ‘bout the size of a throwin' rock,” Creature said. “But you know that.”
“Yeah. I just would prefer to be wrong,” said Lake.
“Unfortunately, you are not wrong. At least, not this time.”
After a long pause, Creature spoke again. “Have you thought any more about the invitation?”
“I think we should accept.”
“I think so too. It will be good to go home.”
"That bridge looks safe." Silence from Creature. "So why are we in the dirt?"
“Some monster-hunter you are.”
“I never said I was a monster hunter. And you never said we were monster hunting.” Lake stood as Creature grumbled and wiggled backwards through the long grass, sorting themselves out with a jumble of halfhearted grumbles and exaggerated movements. Pulling blades of grass from his clothes, and one from up his nose, Lake watched the water and sighed.
“You get to carry it.”
“It was huge! Lake saw it too. He went zing and the bug went SPLASH! And my rocks?” Creature gestured to Lake for backup, but Lake was carrying a large stoneware plate piled high with dismembered ten-footed water bug pieces and paid no attention. Shrugging, Creature continued, increasing their volume to be heard over the crunching and happy chirping noises of Henri eating lunch. “Those were good rocks. Gonna be hard to find ones like that again."
”How large do ten-footed water bugs usually get?” Jace asked, shaking his head to fight off a yawn.
“Depends. Ocean bugs’ll grow until they die,” Lake cleared his throat. “Right. Uh. Usually ‘bout the size of a good throwin’ rock.” Creature rummaged in their pocket for a moment and handed Jace a rock for scale. “You can keep that if you want, it’s a good one.”
Creature peeked into Jace and Henri’s room. The two were sound asleep and that good throwing rock was on top of the blankets. Gently closing the door, Creature turned back towards the main section of the building. The arched ceilings and exposed beams were comically large in comparison to their tiny frame, but years of modifications and additions meant living here was easy. Turning into a large room full of books, Creature hopped up on the extra-deep window sill and looked out over a wide blue-green river. Of all the many places to be, this was by far their favorite. Today, a color-changing orb bounced between a cluster of pole-boats, and a warm breeze carried the noise of friendly competition through partially open windows. Pulling a tangle of something sheer from their pocket, Creature settled in. Preparing ten-footed water bug silk took time.
A warm breeze carries the sound of rustling leaves and laughter through the open windows. Henri sits with Creature on the windowsill of the lesson room where Creature likes to watch out the window, where they prepared the silk. The two look out over the deep blue-green river and watch a large color-changing orb bounce between a small cluster of pole-boats. This room is on the ground floor. It overlooks the river and is opposite from the gardens.
[Season has passed]
Jace tilted his head and listened. The garden was growing wilder. Even with his bandaged eyes, he could differentiate between day and night in their strange new home. And right now, sharp buzzing and melodic chirps overlapped with rolling waves. The stone bench was still warm from the sun. To his right was Henri and on the left was Creature. Jace still didn’t know what to think about Creature, or Lake, but Henri seemed to trust them well enough, and Jace trusted Henri.
“Would you like to learn something new?” Lake poked his head in to the room Jace and Henri called home. Pulls up a chair to sit beside Jace, in sunlight. Henri is asleep on a large padded window seat -- a new addition, just for him.
Warmth radiated from Lake's cupped hands. All sorts of light bounced off the large wooden beams and window panes. Red, purple, orange, gold: summer reflected across ceiling beams and glanced off soaring windows, joining the sunlight dappling hardwood floors.
About the building: diffuse lighting. Warm wood and carved beams, vaulted ceilings, lighting comes from small orbs spinning in carved arches and nooks by the ceiling. Large arched windows that can open out on a hinge or latch closed. Cozy, warm but not too warm. Diffuse lighting. Warm wood and carved beams, vaulted ceiling in this room, lighting comes from small orbs similar to what was being shown in the meditation blurb. Large arched windows that can open out on a hinge or latch closed. Meditation and lesson room is on the ground floor with a door to a patio. The building is set on a slight hill so the patio has a few short stairs on one side for access to the ground and the other end is level with the ground. Path and short distance to the river.
light rain on the river causes rings on the surface of the water. Distant hills are partially obscured by the clouds.
Red, purple, orange, gold: the hues of every summer day spun in the palm of a gloved hand. Colors reflected across ceiling beams and glanced off soaring windows, the only source of light in an otherwise dark room.
“Breathe in, breathe out.” Lake spoke just loud enough to be heard. “Let yourself fall into a natural pace, whatever that is for you.” Outside, the storm intensified. “Before you can learn to do this,” he pointed across the room to where Creature held the spinning orb in their palm, “you must learn your edges. Boundaries will determine success.”
Each drop of rain on glass sounded like hail. Perched beside a tightly-closed window, Creature watched whitecaps forming on storm-grey waves. Lake paused, allowing each student to find their equilibrium before continuing. “Today you will learn six breath-sounds, each of which is designed to help you identify and connect with your own edges.”
“As you breathe, turn your focus inward. Once you have found your core, rest there. Take as long as you need. What do you notice? Is there heat or cold? What about color? Light? Texture?” Lake paused for the space of several deep breaths. “Familiarize yourself with this sensation, this image. As you grow comfortable in that space, allow yourself to once again notice things outside of yourself, outside of your own body, before refocusing inward and returning to your center.”
From their perch beside a half-open window, Creature looked out over the deep blue-green river where a large color-changing orb clumsily bounced between a small cluster of pole-boats. It was practice, clearly. No experienced navigator would play with such inelegance.
Red, purple, orange, gold: the colors of every summer day spun in the palm of a delicately gloved hand. Light reflected across ceiling beams and glanced off soaring windows to join the sun-dappled hardwood floors.
On their walk to the bench Henri had described the sky as empty and dark. It was an assessment Jace trusted, just as he trusted Henri to guide him.
“I thought things would be better by now.”
“There you are!” Creature deposited themselves on the stone bench and handed Jace a small bundle wrapped with string. “We made this for you.”
Turning the gift over in his hands, Jace felt the soft coolness and unfamiliar texture of woven water-bug silk. Coolness cascaded over his hands as he untied the string and unfolded the fabric. “Here.” Creature stood on the bench and, with a few quick movements, loosened the bandage covering Jace’s eyes. In a few deft motions they wrapped the scarf—or shawl, Jace wasn’t certain—around his head and shoulders. “Go ahead.” Cautiously, Jace peeled the bandages away from his face and opened his eyes.
“Jace!” Creature flopped on the window seat, even more dramatic than usual.
“Remember the other day?” Creature asked. “When Lake was wrong about you touching your face twenty-nine times?” Jace chuckled and nodded. “Well, uh.” Creature sounded uncharacteristically nervous as they awkwardly shoved a small bundle into Jace’s hands. “We made you something. It might help.”
Turning the gift over in his hands, Jace feels a soft coolness and an unfamiliar texture. Fabric cascaded over his hands as he untied the string and unfolded the bundle to reveal what felt like glasses with a single curved lens.
“I don’t see anything.” His voice wavered as he furiously blinked away the threat of tears. Wait. "Everything is grey.” Jace took another few deep breaths. “Just slightly different shades?” A tremor in his voice gave him away.
“Look up.” Lake said. Henri looked, then looked again. Tiny spots of light had appeared in the purple-black sky and a soft glow was creeping over the horizon. Jace shook his head in frustration and turned away. “Give it time.” Lake was many things, Henri thought, but most of all unflappable. Even during their conversations while Jace slept, conversations where Lake and Creature both admitted to not yet understanding how Jace and Henri had arrived or how they’d get home, Lake exuded a calmness that Henri admired and appreciated.
“These lights are always-- ” Creature coughed. Lake corrected himself. “More precisely, they can move, change, disappear, and hide behind weather, but there will always be stars."
A light had appeared in the garden only to vanish, then appear in the meadow. Or perhaps that was a different light? ”What was that?” Henri asked. As Henri watched, the light was joined by one more, then another. Where there had been none a moment before there suddenly were dozens of gentle glowing lights on all sides. It was as if the stars overhead had come to land. One landed, blinking, his head, followed by another on the tip of his tail, which he promptly curled around to inspect. It was a minuscule nondescript water bug-looking thing with several legs and wings. Then it glowed. For a wild and magical moment Henri saw his fluff lit by a living star. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that Creature was also a favorite: multiple lights blinked in Creature’s ear tufts and on their nose. From what Henri could see of Lake he was not as fortunate, which Henri could only attribute to taillessness and a lack of ear tufts.
“What is this?” Jace asked with a voice full of wonder. “It tickles.” One was walking across the back of his hand. “Oh!” The tiny thing lit up just before it flew away. “I…I saw that, it's bright?” Two more landed, one on his knee and the other in his palm. Their blinks were not quite synchronized. Carefully, slowly, Jace brought his hand to his face. For a long moment nothing happened. Just as he began to wonder if something was wrong, if he had scared the light away, his palm lit up. Then his finger, and his palm again. “Woah.” The word was barely a whisper. Lake, Henri, and Creature glanced at each other.
"These are fireflies.”
[today we will practice the breath sounds]
Jace can feel this warmth and see hints of light/dark flashes. His sight healing.
Creature surreptitiously drew a series of tiny shapes in the air with their fingers just out of Jace’s view. Henri watched with curiosity: he had seen both Lake and Creature draw these when one was needed, and each instance had been shortly followed by the other appearing. And as the yellows and reds of sunset gave way to the deep blue-purple of night, Henri heard Lake approach.
A light had appeared in the garden only to vanish, then appear in the meadow. Or perhaps that was a different light? ”What was that?” Henri asked. As Henri watched, the light was joined by one more, then another. Where there had been none a moment before there suddenly were dozens of gentle glowing lights on all sides. It was as if the stars overhead had come to land. One landed, blinking, his head, followed by another on the tip of his tail, which he promptly curled around to inspect. It was a minuscule nondescript water bug-looking thing with several legs and wings. Then it glowed. For a wild and magical moment Henri saw his fluff lit by a living star. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that Creature was also a favorite: multiple lights blinked in Creature’s ear tufts and on their nose. From what Henri could see of Lake he was not as fortunate, which Henri could only attribute to taillessness and a lack of ear tufts.
“What is this?” Jace asked with a voice full of wonder. “It tickles.” One was walking across the back of his hand. “Oh!” The tiny thing lit up just before it flew away. “I…I saw that, it's bright?” Two more landed, one on his knee and the other in his palm. Their blinks were not quite synchronized. Carefully, slowly, Jace brought his hand to his face. For a long moment nothing happened. Just as he began to wonder if something was wrong, if he had scared the light away, his palm lit up. Then his finger, and his palm again. “Woah.” The word was barely a whisper. Lake, Henri, and Creature glanced at each other.
"These are fireflies.”
Creature watched Lake at work, swinging their legs idly. There were a lot of great perks to being Lake's buddy, but this was Creature's favorite. Watching Lake work. Very few people got to know Lake like Creature had/did, and even fewer got to watch Lake solve real problems. An unconventional team compared to most of their peers, the two had set records and engineered breakthroughs across divisions at a record pace.
"oy!" It was all Lake needed to say. Without lifting his gaze, A quick flick of the finger and the errant parts were back in order.
Feet dangling in the air and fingers tucked into crevices in the bark, Creature leaned back against the old growth tree. Specimens like this with sturdy scaffolding branches and healthy root systems were a rare find. If he had been able to look away from his delicate, tedious, work, Lake would have seen Creature sitting on a limb nearly sixteen feet overhead, eyes closed and smiling.
Taking a deep breath, Lake stretched and blew the last of the dust into the fading light. Faint sounds of snoring drifted from overhead. With a chuckle Lake repositioned his work lamp and, shifting the hue to red, checked their wards before preparing food. There was no need to disturb the small one, not yet, not here. Creature needed their rest.
As he chopped and peeled the tubers and apples Creature had collected on their way in, Lake allowed himself to listen. Most immediately obvious was Creature’s intermittent snoring and the steady shhhtick-thunk of his knife. Acknowledging those sounds, Lake allowed his awareness to deepen. All around them were the sounds of growing things, of roots and mycelium and gentle wind. And as dusk became twilight, the grove remained otherwise quiet.
“Bright.” Something smelled good. Lake was humming to himself on the ground below, which was odd. But more pressingly, everything was bright. Fumbling for and not finding their scarf, Creature tried to curl away from the disturbing light only to be met with a solid tree. Keeping their eyes resolutely closed they took note of sensations. Rough against my ear, tickle on my nose, something smells good, slight breeze, what is that sound? Blearily blinking the world into focus Creature found themselves eye-to-eye with the glossy blue-black stare of an otherwise drab beetle-like insect-thing sitting on their nose.
[ long pause / brief stare-off where neither one moves. Stomach growls and good smells on the breeze. Bug takes flight. Creature climbs down the tree trying to not disturb the bug while also trying to keep their eyes mostly closed for protection in case it takes flight or startles.] “Here. Soup.” Lake held out a mug without a word about the bug on Creature’s nose. By now he was quite used to - and fond of - Creature’s oddities. A string of runes glinted along the edge. “It’s hot.” Creature carefully took the bowl of stewed apples and tubers only to immediately half-drop/half-place it on Lake’s workspace where, now thoroughly awake, they dispersed both the runes and steam with a slight wave.
“Did you hear anything last night?”
What Jace and Henri left behind:
ROAD CLOSED RESIDENTS ONLY
The orange sign sat between equally bright traffic cones. Behind this array was a few yards of discolored asphalt abruptly ending in a jagged hole. Pieces of twisted and discolored metal were haphazardly strewn across the road. Behind this were the buildings: a set of stately brick townhouses, smoking and charred inside with their windows blown out. Half on the sidewalk was the smoldering remains of a patrol vehicle.
ADDITIONAL INFORMATION, NOTES, FRAGMENTS
Backstory for Jace's world conditions:
all we knew was excess. It began with fertilizers from lawns --> conditions for algae blooms corporate agriculture runoff, waste, fertilizers --> conditions for super-bacteria and poison water industrial waste/runoff --> poisoned water, air, soil. Faced with a choice of drinking water and flushing toilets, citizens chose drinking water. No one could blame them. Children died on live television*, their agony neatly packaged between commercials for designer pharmaceuticals. It came with downpours. Once-in-a-hundred-years floods became once-in-a-generation became yearly. No one was surprised when the sicknesses began. Opulence and excess. Scarcity became a manufactured crisis produced at maximum capacity.
No one ever talked about the end of the world and algae. Perhaps they should have.
Tiny asteroids: localized impact, global damage. Dust and smoke result in patchy winter, see 1908 Tunguska event or the 2013 Chelyabinsk meteor. Localized devastation, atmospheric anomalies, and significant repetitive damage to civilization. Tsunamis if landing in oceans. "Bombardment period" gone unnoticed and undetected and denied until too late due to the political turmoil and defunding of public research.
Planet heated at the same time as record rains and ice melt + massive agricultural farm collapse and runoff = algae blooms, ecosystem and food chain collapses. Insects become the only shared food source.
As [J's] world slid not so slowly into fascism, words mattered even more. Until words became magic that shaped the world. Reading a sentence that is symbols and shapes with words attached. Understanding the ways we shape the world is powerful magic.
"the point is, not all scenarios can be solved by magic."
Backstory:
Tiny asteroids: localized impact, global damage. Dust and smoke result in patchy winter, see 1908 Tunguska event or the 2013 Chelyabinsk meteor. Localized devastation, atmospheric anomalies, and significant repetitive damage to civilization. Tsunamis if landing in oceans. "Bombardment period" gone unnoticed and undetected and denied until too late due to the political turmoil and defunding of public research.
Planet heated at the same time as record rains and ice melt + massive agricultural farm collapse and runoff = algae blooms, ecosystem and food chain collapses. Insects become the only shared food source.
Fast forward:
JACE:
All planets fade. Even ours. That’s the premise that takes us to a crust-covered world of ash and ruin. Jace wears a mask and hood and has covered his face, trekking through the apocalypse. It wasn’t a question of where, but when. Nothing would escape this fate. Nothingness. Returning to carbon. Jace wiped the dust on his goggles. It did nothing to improve his vision, just turned the buildup of ash into streaks. He muttered something under his breath. In his earpiece the rest of the team remained silent. All the jokes and banter had been said before. Now. It was just the endless trudge and drudgery of finishing their assignment. Finding a record of this place that was able to be saved. Finding the record of the last days. Measurements and records and samples, setting sensors and equipment to send information until the end. There were rarely survivors. An insect here, a plant or fungi there. Tucked into a space between and under ricks, a soil sample. It was morbid and tiresome work. But at every installation they left instructions and transportation. Just in case.
Whatever this path was, it sure wasn’t made of rock. J tried not to shudder at the sensation beneath his boots: cracking, crackling, popping, fractures and leaking squishing ooze and plumes of dust all together at once. Even wearing the mask, the inside of his nose burned.
In another time: sniffed the air. In with the sweet smell of growing things and dampness was something foul. Bitter and far away. Breaking through the treetops an orange red half moon. River runs clear. This burn is a distant one.