What were they to do? Run underground like rats, and who had attacked them? He did not know, but something must be done, fast.
She had to tell him before it was too late. If only she could keep those memories buried. She had moved so far, come so far since then. How had they found her again? She was sure, of course, that it wasn't her they were after. They were still hunting the artifact, of course. That horrid artifact that plagued her sleep. Why had they chosen this planet? She had to go tell him, but where had he gone?
She frantically searched the nearby tunnels, praying she found him before something else happened. If the artifact was on this planet...She shivered and hurried her steps more.
He was exploring the second room off the tunnel when she came looking for him. "What's wrong?" he asked, concerned with her breathlessness. "Is everyone okay? Did something else happen?" "Not yet," she responded," but right now, that's the least of our worries!"
Seeing the desperation in her eyes, he found a corner of the room out of earshot of the other explorers, and listened to her spin an unbelievable, yet chillingly true, tale.
"When I was young, my parents lived on a planet far from here, before the Stargates became more common, even for government use. The planet where we lived was nice enough, and we grew magnificent crops every year. We were not rich, but neither were we poor, at least, until the House was built. Strangers came in, pleasantly at first, but before we understood what was happening, we were under the watchful eye of the House. Everything we did was scrutinized. Work was scheduled, and jobs had to be completed. Even as a child, I lived on a schedule, taking water to the growers. We were the lucky ones, the farmers. Those who caught the eye of the House were taken away to work and live at the factory, a nasty, dirty place with no windows, where long hours and dangerous machinery killed all too often.
And then, one day...
Smoke filled the air as she rose to her feet, coughing. What had happened? It felt as though the very ground under her feet had trembled. And then she saw it, in the distance. A small package, wrapped with tape, falling from the sky. The colors drew her, and she walked, unthinking, towards it. He hit her from the side, her vision recognizing only a blur before the impact. Before she could decide what had happened, to open her mouth to say something, the package before her vanished into a flame and a puff of smoke, followed by a ground-shaking explosion. Shocked, dazed by the commotion, she looked toward him. He grabbed her arm and led her, running, through the field, the stables, past the House which was now in flames. They ran until she could run no more, and she collapsed on the ground in the woods.
She had to tell him before it was too late. If only she could keep those memories buried. She had moved so far, come so far since then. How had they found her again? She was sure, of course, that it wasn't her they were after. They were still hunting the artifact, of course. That horrid artifact that plagued her sleep. Why had they chosen this planet? She had to go tell him, but where had he gone?
She frantically searched the nearby tunnels, praying she found him before something else happened. If the artifact was on this planet...She shivered and hurried her steps more.
He was exploring the second room off the tunnel when she came looking for him. "What's wrong?" he asked, concerned with her breathlessness. "Is everyone okay? Did something else happen?" "Not yet," she responded," but right now, that's the least of our worries!"
Seeing the desperation in her eyes, he found a corner of the room out of earshot of the other explorers, and listened to her spin an unbelievable, yet chillingly true, tale.
"When I was young, my parents lived on a planet far from here, before the Stargates became more common, even for government use. The planet where we lived was nice enough, and we grew magnificent crops every year. We were not rich, but neither were we poor, at least, until the House was built. Strangers came in, pleasantly at first, but before we understood what was happening, we were under the watchful eye of the House. Everything we did was scrutinized. Work was scheduled, and jobs had to be completed. Even as a child, I lived on a schedule, taking water to the growers. We were the lucky ones, the farmers. Those who caught the eye of the House were taken away to work and live at the factory, a nasty, dirty place with no windows, where long hours and dangerous machinery killed all too often.
And then, one day...
Smoke filled the air as she rose to her feet, coughing. What had happened? It felt as though the very ground under her feet had trembled. And then she saw it, in the distance. A small package, wrapped with tape, falling from the sky. The colors drew her, and she walked, unthinking, towards it. He hit her from the side, her vision recognizing only a blur before the impact. Before she could decide what had happened, to open her mouth to say something, the package before her vanished into a flame and a puff of smoke, followed by a ground-shaking explosion. Shocked, dazed by the commotion, she looked toward him. He grabbed her arm and led her, running, through the field, the stables, past the House which was now in flames. They ran until she could run no more, and she collapsed on the ground in the woods.
