Below them, a wide valley stretched on into the distance. The valley floor was coated with a shaggy black mass that seemed to move like the sea. Throughout the valley were thousands upon thousands of stocky, four-legged beasts grazing mechanically and ceaselessly. The beasts were horned and hoofed with dark, thick hair covering their massive bodies.
A wide stream of fresh water flowed lazily from the mountain ranges in the far north - apparently the source of the creatures’ migration path.
“Look, there’s the river!” Hamish exclaimed, pointing to the water below.
All the men were smiling - enjoying a wondrous sight, the likes of which they had never known before.
Stephen caught sight of a few smaller creatures foraging close to what he assumed must be their mother. A few grunts sounded over the valley, and the herd began to move downstream.
“Amazing,” Stephen sighed.
Hamish smiled. “All right, men, we’ll finish up the path to the water, and then head back to the city’” he said. “The shuttles will be returning soon.”
After another moment, they all began to gather their weapons and walk back down the hillside - each of them full of wonder.
Later that evening, Stephen and Mandel were among the first colonists to set up residence in one of the deserted buildings. None of the buildings had been laid claim to yet, so the boys were given their pick of any place to stay, so long as they didn’t wander too far from the main group - which was camped out near the entrance to the city.
The city gate was guarded by armed officers, and would be so until enough time had passed for Commander Michael Lee’s worries to subside.
As the evening sun set in the east, the work day ended, and the people began to settle down for the night. The adults built fires and cooked rations together as children played games nearby.
In all, the shuttles had transported fifty colonists and several tons of supplies and luggage that day. More people would be coming in the following weeks, and soon, all the humans would be completely relocated to the newfound city: all except for the skeleton crew Governor Hedrick had delegated to remain behind.
Stephen watched the sun go down with a smile on his face. He and Mandel were standing atop the roof of the building nearest the gate, in which they had set up camp on the bottom floor. He looked over at his friend.
Mandel was not watching the sunset. Instead, he was examining the knife his father had given him. He lightly touched the blade’s engravings with his fingertips.
Stephen motioned to the knife with his chin. “Can I see that?”
“Sure,” Mandel said, carefully handing the weapon to his friend. “It’s real sharp.”
Stephen nodded as he gently scraped the blade’s edge against his thumb. “Sure is. It’s a nice piece of work.”
He turned the blade over to look at the coat of arms. A dragon with its mouth agape and spewing fire emerged from behind a shield. Below the shield, three words were engraved in a language Stephen did not recognize.
“What does this mean?” Stephen asked, pointing to the strange lettering.
“Oh, that’s something in Latin,” Mandel said. “I asked my dad the same thing earlier.”
“Latin?”
Mandel nodded. “Yeah. It was an old Earth language. Been dead for centuries, though. Nobody speaks it. Dad said it was the language of knights and noblemen in a medieval time.”
Stephen was intrigued. “Neat. Do you know what it means?”
“Yeah,” Mandel said. He began pointing to each of the words. “Wisdom… courage… and… mastery,” he explained.
“Awesome,” Stephen admitted. He had only vague conceptions of what these words truly meant, but was nonetheless humbled by them.
Mandel looked at his friend. Stephen was transfixed by the blade, and he began running his fingers over the inscriptions just as Mandel had a few moments before.
“Does your family have a coat of arms?” Mandel asked.
Stephen shook his head without looking up. “I don’t know. Don’t know much at all about my family.” Stephen gently wiped his fingerprints off the blade with his shirttail and put the knife back into its sheath. “I could probably look it up in the ship’s archive’s I guess. I don’t really care much though.”
Mandel shied his gaze downward. “Your dad might know,” he submitted.
Stephen shrugged without a shift in countenance. “Maybe,” he replied plainly.
Mandel sighed; he could skirt the issue no more. “Steve, why don’t you two get along? It’s been… years.”
Stephen looked into the sun. “There’s nothing we need to talk about.”
Mandel shook his head. “He’s your father.”
“Whatever,” Stephen replied. “Things just aren’t the way they used to be.”
Mandel nodded, thinking back to the event that had claimed the lives of several people onboard the ship only a few years before. “You know, I’ve heard people talk.” He paused for a moment, being careful to choose the right words. “I’ve heard people say he did his best to save her…to save all of them. It was just a bad accident. He couldn’t help it.”
Stephen nodded, putting the knife back into its sheath. “I know. I guess.”
Mandel was silent for a moment before remembering: “I heard my dad say that your dad’s staying behind on the ship for a while. He’s going to be part of a skeleton crew to keep the place as functional as possible in case we need to retreat there. It was the Commander’s idea, I think.”
“Oh,” Stephen said plainly, looking out across the ocean. He returned the knife to Mandel and watched the last few rays of sunlight vanish over the horizon.
Mandel lowered his head, feeling pure sympathy for his friend, who had become more like a brother in recent years. They were family together. A family of two brothers, Mandel thought, no matter what bloodlines they had come from.
Soon, the light was gone, and all the land was in darkness.
2
To Stephen, the next few weeks seemed to pass by like minutes. Every day, the shuttles brought more and more citizens; every day the colony grew and grew, buzzing with more people. Buildings were beginning to fill with families - all cheerful and eager to begin a new life. People began to specialize in trades and barter with one another. Some built windows, others made doors. Some had even made plans to begin farming in the nearby fields and hills. In a large, underground shelter, a steelworks was nearing completion. With the aid of ore deposits in the rocks at the ocean shore, the people would soon be able to fashion tools and equipment for themselves.
But before that, the repair of the city gate received absolute priority, due mostly to Michael’s words of precaution against attack. Though the Governor disagreed, many of the colonists (and all of Michael’s men), felt it was wise to do so. Thus it was undertaken immediately. The old tracks were reassembled with new bolts, and the heavy doors were once again functional.
In the central building of the city (the tallest and most uniquely designed), a makeshift town hall was established. In this courthouse of sorts, Governor Hedrick’s office was relocated, and a command center was put into commission. The command center was nested near the top of the building. It was a large room whose walls were made mostly of glass and bars, resembling an air-traffic control tower. Computers and cameras had been set up and surveillance of the city’s various zones was put into place. Although the development of elevators had been rumored, the existing stairs were still the only means of traversing the numerous floors of each building.
Despite Stephen and Mandel’s dismay, their quarters were relocated into a residential district, deep within the city limits. Although they had to be moved, Stephen and Mandel decided to share a room together. Mandel felt he was old enough to live away from his parents now, and he thought Stephen would need someone for company too.
Stephen’s biggest disappointment, however, was that he could no longer see the ocean clearly from his building. But he still had a view of t
he nearby hills and bluffs from where he had first seen the city in all its glory, and that was satisfactory for him. After viewing only black space and stars for twenty years, Stephen and Mandel welcomed any view from any window.
The day they moved to their new apartment was the same day the very last of the human caravan paraded into the city, greeted by cheers and waves from the colonists. They had stories to tell of interesting new birds and other animals they had seen during their trek, as well as exotic plants and flowers. Some of the people in the city had set up a botanical lab and were confirming which fruits of the land were safe to eat and which were harmful. Some people had already taken ill from eating poisonous berries unknowingly, and a community hospital was soon to be put into work.
Aside from the newly ill, many of the young and old from the ship were not taking well to the transition, and needed to have a close eye kept on them. Some had developed sicknesses due to the slightly decreased gravity of the planet, others due to the new foods and water.
But as the days progressed, caution began to subside and the people began to grow comfortable in their new surroundings. Even Michael Lee had begun to wonder whether all of his fears were warranted or actually delusional. However, he still maintained an ever-cautious stance on issues where the people’s safety was concerned. He did not trust the convenience of the situation. It all just seemed too easy to him, and he continued to insist on taking every precaution, especially when anything new was undertaken.
Michael had posted men at various points throughout the city to keep constant vigil and maintain order in the growing population. If nothing else, he thought, the men would be useful in solving civil disputes and combating crime if any should develop. Things were running as smoothly as could possibly be expected.
“What do you want to do now?” Stephen asked Mandel as they walked down the busy city streets.
Mandel shrugged. “I dunno.”
The boys were munching contently on citrus fruits they had picked from the forest. They did not bother to bring baskets with them, so they had each constructed hammocks from the tails of their shirts, which were now bulging with plump fruits.
“What’s going on up there?” Mandel asked, squinting at a gathering of people in the square ahead of them.
“I don’t know,” Stephen said. “Let’s see.”
Dylan Hamish swung his staff down on his opponent’s. The two wooden batons made a loud cracking sound when they collided, and the challenger was thrown down onto his back. He rolled quickly out of the way before Dylan’s staff could be brought down again, and the crowd gasped in awe at the moves taking place before their eyes.
With lightning speed, the challenger was on his feet again. Dylan faked a forward lunge, and this provoked his opponent to block a blow that did not exist. With this split-second of advantage, Dylan swept the challenger’s legs out from under him and placed the end of his staff on his opponent’s neck.
The crowd began to clap and talk amongst themselves.
Dylan smiled at his own victory and reached down to help his opponent up.
“Doing good, Andy. But you’ve got to learn patience when parrying a swing from so far away.”
Andy nodded and wiped the sweat off his brow. “I will, Sir,” he replied, out of breath. He then proceeded to dust himself off.
“Anyone else want to try before we quit for today?” Dylan asked.
No one in the cluster of soldiers stepped forward.
“Come, on,” he urged. “You’re either a coward or a weakling if you won’t at least try with me. I won’t hurt you.” Dylan then looked around the circle of citizen onlookers, and his eyes fell on two boys. “I bet even this weakling would give it a shot,” he said, pointing the end of his staff at Stephen.
Mandel piped up, “He’s not a weakling.”
“I’m not a weakling,” Stephen echoed, agitated at the accusation.
“I bet you’re not,” Dylan replied in an ambiguous tone. He smiled. “Prove it to me.”
Andy offered his staff to Stephen, who stood dumbly for a moment.
“No, thanks,” Stephen said.
“Oh,” Dylan began. “So you’re not a weakling, you’re a coward?”
“I’m not a weakling or a coward!” Stephen shouted, glaring at Hamish.
Dylan smiled. “Show me.”
Stephen noticed the entire crowd watching him - silently nodding for him to accept the challenge. He then looked at Mandel, who offered no expression whatsoever.
Stephen frowned, “Hold these,” he said, handing over his fruits to Mandel.
The crowd began to clap, and Andy smiled as he handed his staff over to Stephen. Stephen entered the makeshift arena and took his position. He examined the staff for a moment, familiarizing himself with where he wanted to place his hands.
“Let me know when you’re ready,” Hamish said, with a grin.
Stephen bounced his arms up and down a little, to prepare them for quick motion. “Okay, “ he said.
Dylan Hamish lunged forward in the blink of an eye, thrusting the butt of his weapon within only a few inches of Stephen’s nose. Stephen leapt backwards and tripped over his own feet, falling onto his back.
The crowd, as well as Dylan, broke free into laughter as Stephen rolled around in the dust.
“Don’t be so afraid,” Dylan said. “C’mon, try again.”
Stephen shook his head and began a barrage of mental swears. “Alright,” he said.
Instantaneously, Stephen lunged at Dylan and tried to smash his face in with the end of his own staff. But before he could even complete the swing, Dylan had dodged it and reappeared behind him. Dylan smacked Stephen hard on the back with the face of his staff, producing a loud smack.
Stephen shrieked in pain, and groped at his welting flesh. He turned around and stared Dylan down in fury and disgust, throwing the staff down at his feet.
Dylan smiled a little, and the crowd murmured - unsure whether they approved of the last turn of events or not.
“Want to try again?” Dylan offered.
Stephen rose to his feet, fighting off the moisture that had begun to collect in his eyes. “Forget this.” He pushed through the crowd and began to walk away, with Mandel following close behind.
“What a jerk,” Mandel said, when they were a short distance away. “I can’t believe he did that.”
Stephen winced as he rubbed his lower back. “I don’t know what I was thinking, playing into it like that,” he said.
A loud round of laughter coming from the crowd behind them made both boys turn around. Dylan was finishing the punch line of a joke as he motioned toward them both.
Stephen sneered as Hamish turned his back to them. He reached into Mandel’s shirt and produced an orange object.
Dylan’s laughs halted abruptly as he felt a sudden, sharp pain accompanied by a sticky splattering of juice on the back of his head. The crowd laughed ten times harder than before, and he was enraged. He turned around again. His eyes met with Stephen’s, which were on the verge of popping out of their sockets.
Stephen’s jaw dropped open, along with Mandel’s.
“Oh, no…” Stephen groaned.
“Run!” Mandel shouted.
Michael watched the city from a rooftop in the hot afternoon sun. He had taken a break from transporting the last belongings of the colonists to their individual homes. He was thinking about his duties for that evening. He had decided to begin work on a city map to be posted and maintained so that everyone would know how to find their own way. The city had become a bustling place in a short period of time, and it would be easy for someone to get lost.
Michael also planned to stop by the Governor’s office later and inform him of his plan to begin sending the shuttles out on a regular basis, to search for any signs of other life on the new world. This idea matriculated from a pair of nagging questions that had remained foremost on Michael’s mind ever since the city was first discovered: Who had built it, and where did they go
?
He thought about this for a moment, keeping a deep frown on his face while he did. As he pondered, he lightly surveyed the city below. Some children were playing a game of tag in the streets right beneath him. In the distance, he could see carts being pulled by oxen through the city gate, full of foods and lumber. And not far away, he saw two familiar figures running in and out of alleyways, darting through empty buildings and jumping obstacles in their way as if they were being chased. Then he saw them duck into a building and disappear.
Stephen and Mandel had fled into a long, few-storied structure on the ocean-bordering side of the city. They leaned against the inside wall and tried to breathe quietly. The sound of running footsteps signaled Dylan’s approach.
The footsteps stopped abruptly and Stephen closed his eyes. His heart was pounding so loudly that he was sure Dylan could hear it. A moment of silence passed. The footsteps then resumed, heading further down the street.
“I think he’s gone,” Mandel said, when he was sure Dylan had passed.
Relief overwhelmed Stephen as he opened his eyes.
“What were you thinking?” Mandel asked with a giggle.
Stephen leaned on his knees, catching his breath. He shook his head. “I don’t know. I just snapped.”
Mandel smiled. “I’ll say. But I’d steer clear of him for a while if I were you.” He began to laugh. “You couldn’t have pegged him any better though…”
Stephen laughed too. “Oh, Man. He’s gonna kill me if he catches me.”
Mandel chuckled. “Nah, I can tell Dad to get onto him, if he tries.” He smiled as he looked around the vestibule area they were standing in. “Hey, where are we anyway?”
“I don’t know,” Stephen replied. He motioned to a set of stairs ahead of them. “But, we can find out,” he said.
They ascended the first flight of stairs and began to examine that floor’s empty corridors. This building was not an apartment edifice like most of the others. It consisted of only three levels and had large, spacious rooms lining both sides of its hallways. Each room contained many windows.
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