Chapter 14: Relics of the Past Part 1

Near the vast mountains and countless slopes lies Colorado’s great environment. In her pristine beauty, a great deal of greenery resided. Countless trees and plants grew unhindered. The former cities and towns have been either rebuilt or abandoned to make way for the new. The great dark clouds overhead were gone, replaced with blue sky and the occasional white puffy clouds.

The air was clean, and the scent of budding flowers filled the scene as a few wagon carts were being drawn across the nearby dirt road. Horses and a few basic robotic units helped move the wooden constructions to their new destination. Food and goods all carried their economic value as trade flourished in the vast countryside.

Through the numerous varieties of trees, a few built homes resided. The mixture of past and modern technology produced farmsteads that were harmonious with nature and productivity. Among one of the great farms, a single man on horseback traveled to his home. Greg was dressed in a more cowboy-like outfit, free from the confines of his survival suit. His right hip flashed a revolver and various other gadgets of current or ancient designs that dawned on his shirt and belt. The black stallion was perhaps one of the greatest animals he ever rode.

As the horse trotted, Greg saw an aerial transport fly overhead. Food grown in the local region was being shipped to other parts of the world. The man felt a sense of pride as he and his animal slowly reached the nearby hilltop where his large house was located. The sense of happiness of being home made him happy. It didn’t take long before he climbed off his horse and took the saddle off to place next to the nearby porch.

“You did good today, Jackson,” Greg told his horse. “You would do your sisters proud.”

The horse seemed to ignore him some as he began to munch on the grass around him. The front door to his house opened when a blonde woman walked out. It took Greg by complete surprise.

She was beautiful, dressed in a red and blue polka-dotted dress. Her cowboy boots and straw hat gave her a flashy and stunning appearance.

“Oh my, God,” Greg said, stunned. “Out of all the people to show up while I was gone.”

“Howdy, Greg,” the woman replied.

“Jessy,” the man walked up and hugged her. He held her intensely in his arms as she slowly lifted her arms and hugged him in return. It didn’t take long before Greg moved his head and kissed her forehead.

“My, my,” she replied. “I wasn’t expecting such a reception.”

He slowly let go of her before backing away to look at her. A big smile could be seen on both their faces.

“I truly didn’t expect to see you here,” Greg told her. “Out of all the people to show up. How did you find me?”

“I had a friend I was seeing,” Jessy replied. “I heard you were in the area.”

“Yeah. I was one of the first to choose the land in this region. Wanted a good ranch setup looking over the hilltop. Not much of a farmer, but I make up for it by raising and training horses.” The man shook his head in joy. “Jessy, of all of God’s creations ... you had to return.”

“Greg,...” the woman brought her hand to the man’s beard. “I figure that I came back to see you one last time. I’m happy to see that you got such a good place.”

“How have you been?”

“As good as those Virginia peaches you got there, sugar.”

The man looked by the door to see a basket of fruit. It was obvious she brought them with her.

“You always know what I like,” Greg told her. He gestured her for them to sit down by the nearby porch chairs. The man could only admire the woman and her appearance. They both looked over the porch at the horse.

“A nice stallion you got,” Jessy said.

“Jackson, hell of a horse,” he told her. “I originally had a horse named Autumn but lost her long ago. Jackson has been a valiant replacement for her. Busiest horse in more ways than one. Great steed, great breeder.”

“Ha, ha,” the woman chuckled some. “I can imagine...” She turned to look at him. “But, what about you?”

“Quiet life,” he explained. “Ever since the environment has been restored, people have been abandoning their domes. Watching deserts become oasis, forests growing everywhere. These are some of the greatest years we’ve ever been in, Jessy. I feel like I can live for a thousand years.”

“It certainly has. It most certainly has.”

“Seeing you here. It’s like I’m in heaven.” His hand reached out to touch hers. “I need to know. Please let me know that you’re here more than just a visit...”

“I already told you that I’m seeing my friend.”

“That isn’t what I mean. What happened to you? Why did you leave me?”

“The cat’s out of a bag,” she straightened her skirt. “Greg, I loved you more than anything. To see what you have here, I absolutely regret ever leaving you.”

“You can come back. You can always come back. Whatever it is, my heart lays open for you. You saw the house ... I got a big bed.”

A saddened look appeared on her face. “Do you want to know the truth, Greg? You want to know why it ended?”

Greg looked at his horse as he made a big sigh. “What happened?”

“Father was against it,” she told him.

“What?”

“Mom and Pa. They were against our relationship...”

“How could they?” Greg showed a hint of anger in his face. “They knew me. I treated you like an angel from heaven. Hell, last time I spoke to your father, we were on good terms.”

“No, it wasn’t that, Greg. The fact was ... we were moving to Aphadus.”

“Aphadus?”

“Pa had enough. Parents were packing up and ready to leave Earth for good. I knew you well enough. You wouldn’t have given up leaving.”

“You’re right about that.” He kept his attention forward. “So you never bothered to tell me?”

“I lied to you ... I lied and made it sound like I wasn’t interested in the relationship anymore.”

Greg closed his eyes while his lip curled some. “I wish you told me the truth...”

“A part of me always loved you, Greg. I just ... I didn’t want to leave my parents behind.”

“No ... You don’t care. Why are you back? Why rub salt over an old wound?”

The man felt a level of frustration. He was ready to tell her that what she did was wrong and that it had hurt him dearly. He opened his eyes and continued to look ahead.

“Now, now,” she said. “I ... figure I tell you that. But I don’t understand. Why do you still have romantic feelings for me when you already have a wife?”

“What? Wife?”

He turned his head to look at her, but she was gone. Confounded by what had happened, the man stood up. Confusion replaced frustration.

Everything else was still normal, but it was like she never existed. The rancher didn’t know what to do at first, but as he looked to his right, he saw it. The distant tree of his property had a golden light that spanned over it.

It beckoned him. Like a ray from God, the man felt drawn to it. He walked off the porch and began to head down the grassy path that led to it. With each step, he felt happier. With each step, the lingering memory of Jessy started to disappear as if she had never existed.

The lone tree consisted of a few low-level work benches with various tools on them. He could already see the silhouette of a woman sitting by the tree. The great oak provided natural shade for her to do her work while offering a fantastic view over the hilltop. It was always her favorite working spot.

It didn’t take long before Greg reached around the tree to see her. The golden aura slowly disappeared.

She was beautiful. She looked like a human woman of Japanese ancestry. Her dyed green hair was long and flowing down her shoulders. Her clothing consisted of a kimono-like outfit designed to handle possible grease stains that might accumulate with the machinery that she worked on. There was one other thing to note. Her belly was slightly distended as if she were pregnant.

“There you are,” she happily greeted him. Her accent was thick but understandable. She paused her work to look up at him.

“Working on the truck engine again, aren’t you, Ginka?” he asked her.

“I wanted to find a way to boost the engine ... push it so you can load more horses into your trailer.”

The man smiled. “Yeah, but what about the trailer? I have enough horses that I can transport at one time. I can’t make it any bigger. A more powerful engine won’t make a difference. Of course,” He bent down on the grass and sat beside her. “I know you always find excuses to tinker with machinery.”

It didn’t take long before the man hugged her. She was so small when compared to him, but she naturally reciprocated the hug. Both of them seemed happy to be together. The man kissed her in the mouth before they let go of each other.

“How’s the baby?” Greg asked her.

“Good,” Ginka replied.

“I should get you another table. This always seemed like your favorite spot.”

“I like that.”

“Ah...,” Greg remarked. “I can’t blame you for enjoying this spot...”

The rancher smiled as he looked down from the hilltop. In the distance below, he could see flocks of sheep moving together. A lone shepherd was tending to his flock, moving the sheep to a new destination to ensure the animals wouldn’t eat up all the grass. A dog was even helping out, staying outside of the flock to keep them together. A few sheep calls could be heard.

As the man leaned back, it felt so serene. A part of him wanted to sleep beside Ginka forever. This was the dream. He felt complete. It was paradise, better than any other planet in existence.

This was what it was supposed to be. A man couldn’t deny this sort of life.

But it wasn’t meant to be. Suddenly, the entire environment began to shift. The sunlight started to fade slowly. Greg watched in horror as the green evaporated and turned into brown and orange. All life was being drained from the landscape. The trees slowly withered and died, reduced to stubbled husks. The sheep, the dog, and the shepherd all turned into sand and were whisked away by the wind.

“No...,” Greg said. His hand extended outward.

“Greg,” Ginka told him. “You need to get up.”

“No ... what’s happening?”

The man could hear other voices in his head. The environment shifted into darkness, and death washed over the hilltop. The rancher looked over to Ginka. She was a statue, still as ever, but her body was turning into gray stone. All the while, everything was becoming darker and darker.

“I couldn’t stand living on Earth...,” Jessy said. Her voice echoing.

“You can’t give up, amigo,” Videl’s voice could be heard.

“Earth is a lost cause!” Another man’s voice said.

“I can’t give up,” Greg said.

“Greg,” Ginka’s voice could be heard. “You need to get up! Please!”

Her voice ... Ginka’s voice reminded the man of someone else that he knew. He began to crawl forward on the loose sand and dirt. He could feel nothing but pain.

“No ... the darkness. I’m surrounded by death...”

<It’s following you... >

Suddenly, the man could feel it. A scaly hand reached out and grabbed his chest. The female voice was louder than ever before. The burning sensation on his body was everywhere. The man wanted to scream. He felt like he was burning alive.

“NO!” Greg yelled out. “NO! It’s all gone!”

The man’s eyes opened again. The dust in the wind was everywhere. His eyes had somewhat adjusted, but his lungs were coughing, screaming for fresh air. He needed fresh air now! He couldn’t breathe. The man felt like he was choking to death. He looked around again and saw her face.

It was Gip’grenda. She was kneeling, trying to summon the strength to move him. However, the small Itrean lacked the proper strength to move such a large person.

Greg was trying to make sense of everything. His mind was in complete shock. Pain naturally caused him to close his eyes to preserve them. It couldn’t be ... He was outside the truck sometime late at night. Why was he having a hard time breathing?

Because he wasn’t wearing his survival suit. All he was wearing was his coveralls, no gloves, no form of protection against the foul air. Toxic sand was everywhere, burning his skin, the deadly dust perforating his lungs and destroying it from within.

The rancher knew he was in trouble. He needed to get back inside the safety of his home container. How long had he been out here? How bad was the damage? His breathing was fading, choking to death under the muck’s deadly grasp.

He couldn’t last much longer. With the last of his energy, he shifted away from the ground. It was enough for him to be pulled along as Gip’grenda helped bring him. The man shifted closer to his truck. The door was open. The hardest part would be to climb the stairs.

It was agonizing. Pain ... so much pain. The man tried to control his breathing. He began to crawl up the stairs. Gip’grenda was right behind him, pushing his back and butt in the process.

With his last ounce of strength, the man reached inside the decontamination chamber of his home container. The Itrean helped push his legs and feet inside before closing and locking the door.

Greg was coughing hard. He could barely move his hand from the floor. The Itrean practically grabbed the decontamination hose to spray him.

“No... cough,” Greg tried to say. “Emergency ... open the decon door... cough ... find cabinet ... Emergency kit ... cabinet or my suit ... hurry!”

Gip’grenda was fast to open the door to the interior chamber, walking into the home container. She was busy trying to find what Greg needed. Meanwhile, the man rested on the floor, spraying his body with the decon foam. He felt lightheaded.

“Ah ... AH!” Greg felt more pain. From the chamber’s light, he could see his hands were bleeding. The muck’s acids were tearing and melting the skin. Only the foam had any hope of breaking it down. The man could only cringe.

“Gip...,” he tried to say. “Gip!... coughcough.”

Blood was starting to fly out of his mouth. The Itrean practically ran back to Greg with a zipped-up pouch.

It was exactly what Greg needed. Gip’grenda unzipped the pouch before Greg grabbed the various hypo sprays. He began the process of injecting himself with them while grabbing and opening up a small pill bag. A small bag of salve fell to the ground.

“Put that salve ... on my burns,” he told her. He tossed some of the pills into his mouth as the pain remained. He felt his strength draining more and more. The last that the man could see was the Itrean taking the bag, ready to use it on him. But, before he knew it, he fell unconscious as everything went black.

The man’s breathing was struggling. There were brief flashes of light. Greg could feel the occasional hands of Gip’grenda. Her voice would be in and out. Memories would shift and alter at will. One second, he could see his body lifting up. Another second, he could see that he was moving along with the Itrean. In another second, he was lying on the bed.

“I need to call help!” Gip’grenda said.

“No ... NO!” Greg replied as he coughed. “No help ... just you, Gip ... Gip...”

“Please, no die.”

Everything fell dark. The pain remained, but it was dying down. Instead, the man writhed in his bed. The coughing remained.

“Just ... don’t leave me,” he said. Air, he needed air. “Don’t let me leave, cough ... don’t let me leave,” he didn’t know if she heard it.

Just don’t leave me...

The man blacked out. He didn’t know if he was alive or dead. The pain was gone. At least, it felt that way. What he did know was that he was still conscious in some form of fashion. All he could see was darkness around him.

“I’m trying,” he heard his thoughts. “I’m trying ... Earth, don’t claim me yet. I’m not ready to join the sands. Help me ... let me live a little while longer. God, let me live ... see what it’ll become.”

Before Greg knew it, he saw a faint light in the distance. It grew brighter and brighter. He had no idea if death was coming, but he avoided it and tried to use his strength to push away from it, but there was no control.

Suddenly, the man’s eyes opened up. He was on his bed, inside the confines of his container. When his eyes shifted, he could see Gip’grenda sitting by the door leading into the decon chamber. She was in her bikini or night clothes, most likely what she was wearing when she had to retrieve him. The reptilian woman almost had a sense of defeat from her posture and sitting position. It was almost as if she were guarding it while she was trying to get some sleep.

“Gip...,” he tried to say, hearing his grave and coarse voice. “Gip, Gip’grenda...”

The Itrean stirred awake and looked at the man. “Greg?” she asked him.

“Help ... me...,” he told her.

Without question, she quickly got up and picked up a small packet of applesauce. There was a small plastic spoon in it. She leaned down, sat next to him, scooped up a small amount of the food, and brought it to the man’s mouth.

Instinctively, Greg opened his mouth and let her feed him. His body was attuned to this moment. The pain was nearly gone. However, from his point of view, he noted light burn marks on his hand. He knew he was alive, but his strength was barely there. More of his clothing was stripped off, leaving him in his boxer shorts and blue shirt.

“What happened?” she asked him.

“How long was I out?” he tried to ask as he felt another spoonful of applesauce reaches his mouth. He quickly ate it and swallowed it.

“Seven hours...”

“I ... I know what happened.” He lightly coughed but struggled to explain. “I was ... sleepwalking.”

“What?”

“Medicine ... not properly administered. Boise treated me earlier ... Muck poisoning ... Given doses of Kiotrin ... Kiotrin used in emergencies. However, Kiotrin ... affects the mind ... tricks it. Makes you see things ... My body ... was asleep, but it wasn’t. Why didn’t you ... stop me from going outside without my suit?”

“I didn’t feel you get up,” she replied with a few chirps and clicks.

“It’s ok ... you’re a heavy sleeper.”

“The medicine makes you de ... delery...?”

“Delirious, yes. We’re phasing out Kiotrin ... because of what just happened. We use different meds ... cycle different meds ... for poisoning. I went outside without my suit ... no awareness until it was ... almost too late.”

She grabbed another spoonful of applesauce before putting it into his mouth. He could feel his body responding more and more.

“Do you know ... how long I was exposed?” he asked her.

“I awoke,” she tried to say. “I heard screaming outside and saw you were not in bed. I find you outside.”

“Five ... ten-minute exposure. If it was a minute longer, I probably be dead ... you saved my life...”

She continued to spoon-feed him more and more food. The man could see a tear running down her face and snout. She was doing her best to remain tough and pretend that what she heard wasn’t a compliment.

“I should call help,” she told him.

“No,” he said again. “I can’t give up ... I want to see Montana ... not when I’m so close to reaching it.”

“I no want you to die.”

“I’ll live, Gip’grenda ... thanks to you.”

“What do I do?”

“I have everything for treatment ... Body needs time to recover ... not going home ... won’t go home till I get that car back ... understand? It means everything to me...”

“Yes, stubborn human.”

“Earthers ... the stubborn survive ... what doesn’t kill us ... makes us stronger. You want that in a human ... you don’t want us to give up.”

“Don’t give up. I agree.”

“I need a day ... no ... make it two days. The generator should handle low-power mode. Keep basic functions for everything inside ... designed it for long-term survival. Can you handle my needs for two days ... no travel?”

“Yes.”

“Patience ... the true heart of virtue. I truly misunderstood your people. I was ... wrong about so many things. We’ll lock down tight for a little while.”

“What if you ... sleepwalk again?”

“I shouldn’t. I don’t carry any more Kiotrin ... it’s effects will wear off. But, in this case ... Barricade that door.” He extended his hand to her, seeing it shake. “And remain close to me ... The bed is ours ... and we got plenty of movies.”

The Itrean smiled and gripped the man’s hands. Her scaly fingers and clawed nails were gentle in how she held his...

Another day passed. Recovery was difficult. Greg became more coherent as the hours progressed. There were times that he could summon the energy to go to the toilet or wash himself, with Gip’grenda watching him closely. A part of his mind feared the concept of getting anywhere close to the door. Even the Itrean ensured that every item that wasn’t bolted down in the room was placed by the exit to make sure Greg could never leave.

During his sleep, the man felt like he had no dreams. Perhaps it was for the best. The strange voice he remembered was seemingly gone, and he didn’t feel like he was in any apparent danger. Eating was a challenge as his stomach seemed to reject much of the food that was put in it. At times, Greg remembered that his vomit almost had an orange-like color to it when he threw up in the toilet.

Much of the time was spent sleeping and trying to eat as Gip’grenda sat back and watched the various movies shown on the digital screen. The man would sometimes look at her, admiring her body. Whenever she looked at him, he would naturally look away like it was nothing. The coughing slowly subsided as the hours passed, along with the pain. Proper medication and cleansing of the body were the only way to heal. The man knew quite well that the Itrean was doing her best to make sure that Greg was comfortable. A few words were passed to Videl to notify his friend of his current status and condition.

On the second day, Greg woke up with much better energy than the day before. The coughing was nearly gone. He got off the bed and walked over to the sink before turning on the faucet. The small light above him allowed him to gaze upon himself as he splashed water onto his face.

Despite the burns from the orange muck, his face looked seemingly good. The hands took the worst hit as they naturally cradled the sands from where the poison remained. The skin seemed like they had suffered 3rd-degree burns, but the healing salves and medications were quickly healing the injuries.

However, there was an obvious casualty from the days prior. When the man’s hand went over his head, he looked down at the sink to see a tuft of hair. He slowly looked at the tiny mirror as his hand went back to feel his head. Two fingers were used to squeeze and gently pull against his hair follicles. It required little effort. Another tuft of hair fell into the sink.

Greg could see that the damage was more severe despite his brush with death. He was going bald. His hand brushed his beard, feeling that it, too, was loose and ready to fall out.

“No...,” Greg said to himself. “No...”

Gip’grenda woke up from the bed and looked at him. She could see that the man was disturbed. It was the first time that she could see a tear running down the man’s face. He did his best to remain stoic, but he was visibly shaken.

“Greg?” she asked.

“Useless...,” he said. “Just ... useless.” He reached over to grab an electric razor.

She was ready to get out of bed, but Greg just shook his head.

“Muck poisoning...” he told her. “It eats your soul.”

“Your hair...”

“I need you to grab a bucket.” He pulled out an electric razor. “I hope you haven’t gotten used to seeing me with a hair and beard.”

“You’re going to lose your hair?”

“It’s falling off ... nothing can be done about it. Just...” The man practically slapped his hand on the sink in frustration, which caused more pain.

“No hurt yourself,” she told him. “Just do it.”

The Itrean got up and walked over to a bucket lying down by the door. She handed it over to the man. Greg looked at the razor as if it was a knife to be brought to his throat. His breathing was intense.

“I won’t shave the brows,” he told her. “If they fall out, they fall out.”

The man walked over to the bed with the bucket and razor. He summoned the strength to begin the process of trimming the falling follicles. Gip’grenda remained with him as the buzzing sound echoed inside the room.

“There...” Greg said to himself as he placed the razor by the bucket. He kept his hands away from his brow, but he was able to feel the top of his forehead. The hair was gone, along with his beard. What was left was an almost hairless face.

“Like an Itrean,” she told him.

“I would almost take some of your feathers to make up for it...”

She could see the man was thoroughly disappointed. “It’s ok, Greg,” she told him.

“Of course it is ... It always is.” The man got up and placed the bucket and razor to the side before he washed his head and face over the sink. Seeing himself without the beard and hair felt degrading somehow.

“I see humans with hair on Earth,” she said. “Do they all lose their hair?”

“Yes and no,” he told her. “Good purifiers mean your hair survives, but not always depending on how much exposure. Sometimes, what you see is ... fake hair ... augmented hair placed over the scalp and face. Sometimes, you see wigs. Sometimes, they never lose it.”

“But you can regrow hair, right?”

He seemed skeptical. “I don’t know. I’ll have to get checked out at a medical facility. Usually, the answer to that is no. One way or another, I’ll reclaim it.”

“You seem better. You look healthy.”

“I needed a good day to recover. Usually, people of my condition don’t recover so fast. Sometimes, they end up dead...”

He walked over to the bed and sat down.

“No coughing?” she asked.

“Still having phlegm, but I think I managed to flush most of it out of my system. Thankfully, the sand’s toxicity doesn’t always translate to the damage that rain or liquid muck will do. The concentration factor isn’t as high. I might have also been spared some of the wrath without knowing it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I noticed that when we entered near the southern edge of the Dead Forests, the toxicity concentration was a little bit less. The heavy dust storms that hit Boise have a harder time reaching this spot. It all played a role in me talking to you right now instead of you talking to a corpse. Needless to say, the nanites in my body are having to work overtime. It was still a rather hard dose that I took.”

“Are you sure you are ok?” she asked.

“I’m still tired. Hasn’t helped that we’ve been cooped up in this container. What I would give for a good clean shower. I just didn’t have the room for one.”

“I like this. I get to talk to you ... no layers of heavy clothes ... no suits. It’s ... comfy.”

He patted her shoulder, his face displaying a brief, serene smile. The man climbed into bed again and began to lie down. He could feel her feathery tail brush his side.

“I could use some more sleep,” he told her. “I think ... if I’m well enough by the afternoon, we’ll refuel the main tank and continue our trip to Salmon. If we can at least make it to Salmon, I can have one of their doctors check me up ... have a good resting point before we continue to the Great Falls Dome. Sound ok?”

The Itrean did her quick nods. The man made himself more and more comfortable, pulling the bedsheets over his body and on the verge of closing his eyes. Gip’grenda stood up and looked around a bit as she thought to herself. Finally, she pulled the bedsheets and climbed in. Her face and snout were facing him.

She seemed to be on the verge of closing her eyes when she noticed the man was looking directly at her.

“I notice,” she tried to say. “That you look at my body.”

“I can’t help it,” he replied. “You’re very ... very beautiful. You got a good frame ... good heart.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

The man nodded on the pillow. “I guess it’s because of what I used to do. You ... end up being the hired stallion of the herd long enough you can tell the differences in the different Yutilian frames. Some are a little bit skinny ... some are a little bit muscle ... fat ... etc. You got a little bit of muscle tone, but aren’t some fighter either. You’re ... an outsider that lives in a village...”

“I know.”

“You don’t happen to know a person named Ginka, do you?”

“Ginka?” her eyes looked away for a moment. “You mean Gene’kar?”

“I guess? I remember hearing it as Ginka.”

“Ginka? How?”

“Dream, I guess.”

She seemed surprised that her feathers lightly raised. “Gene’kar was going to be my sister’s name. My father wanted to have another baby ... but he died before my mom could con ... conc...”

“Conceive.”

“Yes. Your dream ... what did you see?”

The man seemed to think about it almost as if he was unsure what to tell her.

“It was a dream,” he tried to explain. “I barely remember that much from it. Some of it was ... pleasant ... confusing, of course.” He sighed. “Gip’grenda ... I can’t thank you enough for what you did. If you weren’t here, I would’ve been found dead by my own truck, assuming how long it would take before they ever found me.”