Chapter 2

“Diiinnnggg”, rang in the air of the tiny habitat surrounding him. It sounded like a chime, reminding him of times long ago. Peaceful times. Unfortunately, it was the signal from the ward that Micah had placed one hundred light years beyond the outer planet.

“Okay. Break time’s over,” he called out, knowing that no one was there.

Micah stood and stretched. It felt like a huge weight had lifted from his shoulders. The waiting was over. He took a last deep breath, savoring the taste of air flavored by living plants. “Ahhh,” he sighed.

“Doonngg”, rang through the little habitat.

“Seventy light years,” Micah muttered to himself in surprise. A bad habit of talking to himself seemed to be developing. “Is my Enemy as anxious to get this over with as I am?” he asked himself, ignoring the fact that talking to himself could mean he was going crazy.

“Nope,” he decided aloud as he turned towards the ship. “I am the epitome of normal. Since it’s just me, I am normal by definition. So, no problem.”

Micah stepped to within two feet of a rune embedded in the smooth surface of the giant obsidian ball. He closed his eyes and allowed his head to fall back, as if he were looking upward. Micah slowly raised both hands from his side and held them palm up at shoulder height. He took a deep breath, tasting again each blade of grass, and each carefully manicured tree and flower.

“It is time my friends,” Micah murmured. It wasn’t necessary to speak the words aloud, but old habits die hard. He felt more than he heard the acknowledgment. He didn’t know if the plants were sentient, and he didn’t care. They could have become sentient in the amount of time they had traveled with him. The plants were the last living things he had left from his home. They comforted him and seemed to be good at that task. Each plant melted into the gray background as that background contracted around him. When it was finished, Micah was standing on a flat, barren mountain top.

Micah was encased, head to toe, in a suit that seemed made of liquid silver. The head of this silver statue had a single white band around the center. From the inside, Micah had a clear view in all directions. A virtual readout appeared in the corner of his vision, providing information about his current environment.

“On the cool side of a planet, and it is still almost hot enough to melt lead,” he murmured, looking at the outside temperature.

“Deeaanngg” multiple chimes softly rang through the helmet.

“Thirty light years,” Micah recited, then added, “but it’s a dry heat,” continuing the conversation with himself about the heat that was interrupted by the chime. He snorted at his own stupidity.