Our ship screeched into the atmosphere as a howling rumble was felt throughout the cabin. I focused my gaze on the cockpit window—endowed with a scorching wave of Titan’s fiery spirit. With the angle of our approach, such intensity would shred vessels of the old ages, though the advancements of today allowed us to disregard such effects of ablation.
Talus retained a steadfast position, gripping his seat with his chin up. I could tell he wasn’t used to this. Sweat dripped down his chin. He was heaving.
Our unofficial truce of silence was, however, short-lived. Overshadowed by the rage of the stratosphere, a faint chime of the navigation panel caught my attention. Upon radioing in with the call I discovered it was Titan’s governmental personnel—quickly identified by a European signature. After a brief moment of confusion and reprimand, they ended up guiding us through a landing procedure in English, albeit begrudgingly.
The artificial gravity disabled, the landing gear extended, and the radio alerted us to get off the ship immediately. Talus brushed my shoulder as we made our way towards the ship’s exit. He took hold of the door lever and looked back at me.
A pathetic sorry escaped his mouth, poisoning the air with his excuse.
I followed Talus off the ship. As I walked atop the pavement, it was less of walking—but more of a slight spring in my step. The sweet air of the chamber strangled me, forcing me to clear my throat.
Artificial white beams blinded me, reflecting across the dull walls of the room. There were soldiers dipped in hues of yellow and gray standing idly by, equipped with familiar-looking weapons. Several of them were dispatched towards the ship. The men grabbed us by the shoulders as we were forcefully escorted from the entrance ramp to the main docking bay. Hastily, a highly decorated official entered the facility and walked up to his soldiers, barking orders in fluent German.
He stood before his men, maintaining an erect, rigid posture. The man’s dark, ashen uniform wrapped crisply around his body, highlighting his lean composition. The stars shining on his shoulders provoked a sense of authority, adjacent to which a large emblem of Saturn rested on his collar. His black boots clacked on the ground—the only sounds heard in the deafening silence of the airlock.
Talus looked at me with his piteous eyes.
Both of us turned to face the commanding officer, his precipitous stature overshadowing Talus’ six-foot height. His cold, piercing gaze paralyzed me, the right half of his face covered in darkness. Where a set of deep blue eyes was usually complete, instead laid a black patch stitched crudely under the shadows.
“Sprichst du Deutsch?” He cleared his throat. “English?”
“Yeah, we speak English.” Talus nodded.
“My courier describes your harbor as Mexico. Am I correct?”
“Yes. Tijuana Central.”
“Are you two American citizens?"
“Communication from the terrestrial systems has ceased. Only Jovian systems and beyond remain. I've never seen Earth so radio-silent, yes?”
“Well, yeah—Earth was attacked…” Talus lingered.
“Well aware,” he said as he stared back at us. "Yet you two left and decided to come here."
“It’s the only place I knew, sir.”
“The only place you knew? You’ve been here before?”
“My father, yes. Does Ulysses K’nova sound familiar to you?”
The commander raised a brow. His eye followed the graceful contours of our vessel. “It may.”
“Then I'd hope you can help us here...”
He sighed, returning his attention to me. His sapphire eye bored into my soul. For what felt like an eternity, he analyzed me from top to bottom with keen precision. He cracked a single finger and realigned his posture. “How about a trade?”
“A... trade...?” Talus slurred his words.
“For what? We don’t have anything to offer.”
“Really?” He nodded towards our ship and gave a quaint smile.
“And what would we get out of it?”
“Food. Shelter. A place here.” He smiled. “The ones before you didn’t receive such luxury.”
“That much for this piece of junk—what for?”
“Memorabilia. For an old friend,” The commander laughed. “Unless—you wish to decline.”
“Deal.”
With a swift step, he turned his back to us. “Folgen—follow.”
Talus shot me a glance for a brief second, to which I nodded.
The commander’s soldiers stood like statues as we walked out of the docking bay. Their guns pointed to the ceiling, adorning the hall with a familiar silhouette of ire and gunmetal.
“Excuse me, sir. I left a few personal things on the ship.”
“I’ll send someone to retrieve them.”
We walked down a luminous hallway. The brisk air crept into my sleeves, my legs now anchored with every step. Not until we reached a room did the commander ever say his name.
“Alexander, you may refer to me as Voigt.”
He gave me a quick smirk and looked at Talus. “Your name?”
“Talus Calvaine.”
Voigt nodded and opened the door. Meticulously engraved into its cold surface was the word: Lounge.
“Willkommen. Relax here for a minute.”
A few enclaves of white tables and metal chairs rested in the room. The surfaces shone with dignity as if just cleaned before we entered. The furthest wall held a large window that exposed another room—subtle hues of silver and tin gleaming off control surfaces and bulky screens.
I looked back to Voigt only to see the door swinging shut. Talus, now fumbling with an ornament in the shape of Saturn, was fully content with spinning the little rings that complimented the piece—a joy felt for only a few seconds. He spun it again.
“Come look at this,” Talus said, eyes affixed to the object.
I continued to run my hands across the tabletop. Each island was stacked with large displays, each accompanied by an obtrusive keyboard—their colored keycaps faded from constant use.
Talus paused. “So, how do you know him?”
“I don’t.”
“Figures.” He placed the object back down on the table.
“I thought you were going to break that.”
“Yeah?”
“You break everything.”
He shrugged. “You always take it too personally.”
The sound of footsteps invaded the room. With a single motion, the door swung forward, revealing an older woman accompanied by Voigt. She was adorned from head to toe with gray heels, a gray dress, and a gray pair of glasses. Despite the generous platforms on which she stood, she was a head shorter than the one-eyed man.
“Gentlemen, please sit down.”
From the polar sides of the room, Talus and I came together and sat with Voigt. We exchanged greetings while the woman tampered with her tablet.
“Alexander.” Voigt put his hands together, elbows resting on the table. “What would Ulysses always say about loyalty?”
“Both must share a mutual respect.”
“Should I expect the same etiquette from both of you?”
“Yes.” “Yeah.”
“So if it is ever necessary, the city can rely on you two.”
“That is correct.”
Voigt released his hands, gesturing to the woman to come forward. He whispered something into her ear, to which she promptly nodded.
“Talus, can you come with me?” the woman smiled.
“I—yeah, sure.”
They both exited the room. Voigt stood from his seat, his eye peering toward the door. He placed his hands in his jacket pocket as he eased his posture forward.
“Did your father talk about me quite often?”
“A few times, sir. On the drives.”
“Was he still stationed in Nevada during the invasion?” He looked back at me.
“Yes, that’s—that’s where they love keeping him.”
“And you didn’t want to join him there?”
“I decided to take a different path.” “Which was?”
“Well, I wanted to be more independent than my father. I am—well, was contracted by the government.”
“That’s not so far off. You should feel right at home.”
“It may very well be my only one left.”
He turned his face to the door, where the light shined upon his shoulders like a coveted idol. As if poised for a wartime campaign poster, he imbued the aura of vigor and patriotism. “I tried to keep him here, you know. But that’s just how he is—always longing for home.”
He let out a long, drawn-out sigh. “It was only a matter of time. I was surprised. It seemed like, in times of crisis, you both somehow made it unscathed.”
He broke from his rigid position—the sound of boots clacking rang through the room as he slowly trudged to the door. “Katell,” he said as he knocked.
“Yes?” the woman replied.
Voigt dismissed me out of the room to join them. As I walked into the spacious hallway, I looked back to see him waving goodbye.
“Ah, you must be Alexander?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Good, let’s go.”
We reached the end of the hallway and entered an elevator. A sluggish hum resonated inside the compartment, letting us know that it would be a while until we reached our stop. I heard a quick succession of tapping and looked over to my right; Katell was fidgeting with her clipboard. The elevator’s construction breathed an air of security—solid metal walls, a sleek dull-gray paint job, and countless bolts tightly gripping onto its surface. But as we descended, that feeling could not be any less so. The weight of the ground seemed so unmovable, so heavy—yet I stood underneath it, my heart following.
Finally, the compartment began to slow, sounding a quiet purr as it came to a halt. As soon as the elevator doors opened, I saw a myriad of different corridors, hallways, and stations all with their own markings on them. People commuting, bartering, and talking in different languages that I barely understood. Snatches of German, French, Slavic, Russian, and many more jumped out at me.
“What floor are we on?” Talus asked, his face moving from point to point.
“Floor two.”
“Out of?”
“Many. Right now, you’re where you need to be.”
She led us through the largest of all the pathways—an aluminum-white atrium that stretched for what looked like miles. Laid adjacent to the building-high walls were transit lines, buses, and elevated rail trains speeding through the area. It was arterial. Chambers that funneled out from the space like branching veins. Each pocket formed a cul-de-sac, which fed into houses and businesses alike. Yet the sun was replaced by brightly lit overhead lights, appearing the city to be always day—constantly alive.
We finally reached our housing sector. A large digital display in a plethora of languages dominated my view. I skimmed across the various languages and searched for something familiar to me.
HOUSING SECTOR F
F1 - F9
***
“Gentlemen, this is your room.”
Katell handed us each a white keycard with an engraved symbol of a house on it. As we entered, Talus and I dropped our belongings on opposite sides of the room. My aching body finally got to sit down on the edge of the bed, while Talus flung his body carelessly, introducing his face to the headboard.
“Ow.”
Talus rolled to the corner of his bed, rubbing his temple.
“I’ll leave you two for a minute. We have matters to discuss later.” Katell stepped one foot out of the door. “There’s a mess hall nearby. Meet me there once you get situated.”
“You hungry?” Talus said, arms over his face.
“Kind of.”
“I wonder if they have shredded beef.” He faced me with impassive eyes.
“Is that what you really want right now?”
“Relax. I just wanna talk things out.”
“Now is not the time.”
He rolled again, now turned to the wall. “When?”
“I don’t know. Tomorrow. A week. Next year.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m not waiting a year to eat.” He stood and brushed his legs, eyes on mine while he walked out of the apartment.
The ambiance that proceeded was one of tranquility. The tension Talus brought was necessary for him, to shield his ego in a chest of witticism—it’s repetitive. Annoying. There came a point where it was used against those closest to him. It nullified the overall meaning. When I talked to him, it’s not him—rather, the man that protects his jewel.
I left the apartment for the mess hall, trailing behind Talus.
***
After what seemed like an hour, we finally arrived at a large room filled to the brim with all sorts of people. They conversed in many different languages—the tumultuous crowd kindly interacted with one another as if it was a utopia. We traversed through rows of long tables that, due to the lighting of the room, presented pale white.
We found Katell sitting at a roundtable, her golden hair pronounced through the mesh of various smoke-colored fatigues. As we took our seats, she gave us a smile and handed us each a meal voucher, to which we ordered our food on a small device. While time passed, she recited a few inquiries from her notepad. Once she finished explaining the contents of the city, where to go, and whatnot, our food arrived.
“Not to interrupt your meals, but I wanted to show you two this handy thing created for Themis.” Katell grabbed a device from her purse. “This is your visual guide. You can use it to get around the place.”
She looked at Talus, who had chicken grease smeared all over his face. She chuckled and handed it to him. “I have been instructed to give this to you due to your inexperience based on your profile.”
“Inexperience? You’ve obviously got the wrong profile, ma’am.”
“Talus J. Calvaine, correct?”
Talus munched on a piece of chicken as he continued. “Mhm, yeah.”
“You’re marked here as a civilian. Just try and relax until we can find you a suitable position.”
Talus refrained for a moment, taking a sip from his choice of pink lemonade. He rolled his eyes.
“And for you, Mr. K’Nova,” she swiped on her tablet. “R&D.”
She looked up at me. “You are stationed to work with those who share the same knowledge as you.”
I finished a bite and peered at Katell’s hazel eyes.
“Alright.” I took a sip of water.
“Is there any possibility that you can start in 10 hours?”
Her proposition was offensive. To start work so soon meant that I couldn’t relax. Yet—the more I dwelled on it, the more that my chances of relaxing in the apartment were naught. I needed my time away from Talus, just a day or two.
“Well—yeah, that’s fine.”
“Perfect. I’m glad you two are so willing to help out around Titan.” Katell smiled.
We finished eating, disposed of our trash, and headed to the apartment. The bleak hallway we walked through couldn’t have been a better representation of how I felt: bored, bleak, and lifeless. The lights assaulted my eyes, leaving little fireflies in my retina. The air was light—a fabricated medium. Like I was walking around in a giant freezer.
Throughout the commute, Talus continued to shoot inquiries at the poor woman. On the rails, he would try to pry every minute of information, only to be left unanswered after the first stop.
Once we finally arrived at the apartment, Katell issued a subtle sigh of relief. She graciously opened the door, allowing Talus to continue forward, still running his mouth.
“Talus, I assure you that your tablet will answer any more questions you throw at it,” Katell asserted.
I held the door halfway shut. “Your hospitality is very generous, thank you Katell.”
As she left our dwelling, my eyes subdued in the dim light. While the room was still quiet, I gathered my pajamas and headed toward the bathroom.
“Hey—Xander, can we talk?”
I closed the door.
My tarnished appearance stared at me from the back mirror. Baggy eyes. Frayed hair. I was fine, really.
I scoured through the bathroom and did my nightly routine. After changing into a new set of clothes, I decided to confront Talus. Although, when I did, I found him on his bunk bed staring at the ceiling, drifting away. And so I did the same—shifting my legs toward the bed, I familiarized myself with this city’s cold, yet welcoming embrace.