Prologue: Ten Years Before the Beginning

Meet 8 year-old David Watson as his normal life is torn apart.

We were sitting on the grass in front of our two-story ranch-house, with a good view of the purple night sky and no clouds to ruin our stargazing. Dad was out late in the town, but my brother, my two sisters, and I were taking advantage of the nice weather. Mom had cooked us stew for dinner, and let us sit outside to eat while we waited for Dad. It was still vacation time for us, a warm break that I would never forget.

Adam was the oldest of us, thirteen at that point and just about to start his upper schooling. My little sister Mercy was only six, and was quietly busying herself with a lightning bug. She was never very outspoken, but listened to our conversation while intently trying to catch the bug. Lastly there was my baby sister Christy. Mom held her in her lap as we talked, two year-old Christy babbling whenever something came to her mind. I couldn't understand her, but Mom always could. She'd wait while Christy garbled out some gibberish, then answer as though she had said something meaningful. We all inherited her thick red-brown hair, except for blonde Christy who took after Dad.

My mom was ace. She had a thousand jobs, looking after the ranch and taking care of us while Dad worked for Raider Corporation in the city, and yet she always smiled, laughing at her worries as she made sure that we knew she loved us.

“Mom, what's that constellation there?” Adam asked, interrupting to point at a group of stars that, to my eight year-old eyes, looked like a butterfly.

I saw Mom's green eyes sparkle as she answered Adam. “That's Lenoir, the Hero of a Thousand Stars. Your granddad used to read me that story all the time when I was your age.”

“Who was he?” Adam prompted, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

Mom closed her eyes as she got into storyteller mode, seeing the scene in her mind as she tried to show it to us through her words. “Lenoir was a cyborg, with a mechanical eye and a fairy that rode on his arm. They say he had an unbreakable sense of honor and duty. The country had been at war with Outsiders for over a hundred years, and, just when everything seemed hopeless, Lenoir came along and saved the entire world. The story says that he destroyed himself along with all of the Outsiders, but the Old Ones took pity on him and turned him into a butterfly, so that he could roam the skies forever. And we can still see him today.” She was telling us the plot of a sci-fi movie that came out a decade before, but we were too young to know it.

“Were the Outsiders like the 'Devons'?” I asked.

Mom looked startled. “Where did you hear about the Devonians?” she asked me.

“The T.V. told me they were invaders, and that we should go to war soon.”

She sighed. “Sometimes I think you kids watch that thing too much...” she muttered to herself, bouncing Christy on her knee. Turning back to me she answered, “Davy, the Devonians are from the edge of the Solar system, but we don't know what they want yet. They could just want to be friends.”

“Mom?” Adam asked, still looking up at the sky.

“Yes, dear?”

“I'm not sure, but I think a new star just appeared in Lenoir.”

She looked up, giving the sky a worried frown. “I think you're right,” she told him, and I looked up, too. At first I couldn't see a difference, but soon I saw it as well; another star popped up in our sky, then another. Within a minute about twenty new stars changed all of our constellations, with still more coming up. “What in the world...?” Mom asked the air. I was dimly aware of screeching tires as Dad pulled up in front of the ranch house in our old pick-up.

“Everybody get in the truck!” he shouted. He looked frightened, and his tone was so abrupt that we all scrambled to obey. Mom held Christy on her lap in the passenger seat while Adam and I took Mercy's hands in the back. I noticed a couple of duffel bags next to me, but couldn't even ask if we were going on a trip " I was too confused from the late hour and the changing stars.

The window of the truck was open, so I could hear my parents talking. “Jack, is it them?” Mom was asking.

“Yeah. I heard it in town: the Devoni' fleet is coming into orbit above our heads right now. They're armed to the teeth. Evacuation ships are in port now, but it may be too little too late.”

Mom gasped. “But the children? Our home?”

Raider supplied evac ships, hoping to save as many as possible. We're gonna have to take separate ships, though; they'll be heading for a Raider Corps base in Africa " we'll meet back up there.”

“We're separating?!” she asked, "Why?"

“We have no choice, Nancy,” Dad explained, “Simon promised us space, but it can't be all in one ship. I'll take Adam and Mercy with me, an' David an' Christy'll go with you. I've got some necessaries packed for us, but the rest's gonna have to be expendable.”

Mom fell silent. I gripped Mercy harder as Dad sped up, trying to make it to the port as fast as possible. I didn't fully understand what was happening, but I could tell it was bad.

* * * * * * * *

Dad stopped the truck suddenly as we pulled up behind a line of abandoned cars. He and Mom jumped out of the front seats and grabbed the bags as they rushed us out of the back. I held on tight to Mercy, last in the hand-chain our family formed as we ran another mile to the evacuation ships. Dad and Adam each had a duffel bag slung over their backs; working with Mom on the ranch for the past couple years gave my brother the strength to keep up, even with the added weight.

All around us people were panicking, trying to push their way to the ships. I remember seeing a couple of people fall and get trampled in the stampede behind us as we fought to stay together for as long as possible. We got to the ships as soon as we could, but already they were getting full. Dad let go of Mom and grabbed Adam and Mercy. As I let my sister's hand slide out of mine, Adam took off his duffel and handed it to me. Grabbing the bag, I looked at Dad to see what I was supposed to do. He was shouting something at Mom, trying to be heard over the noise of the crowd, and pointing at the ship to our right. Mom nodded, pointing at the same ship, and turned to grab my hand.

Dad grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her into a long kiss; she yanked me forward, not letting go of either me or Christy as she and Dad said goodbye. Mom had to pull away from him so that we could get to the ship; the next thing I knew, Dad, Adam, and Mercy were swallowed by the crowd as they made their way to a different ship.

Mom dragged me towards the ship, trying to keep a hold on Christy as we battled our way through the crowd. There was a long ramp coming down from the entrance to the ship, and a line of guards trying to keep the mob at bay. Only a handful of people were being allowed to board at a time, and it was mostly people with young kids that got through.

We pressed forward until we got to the front of the crowd, Mom holding Christy in front so that my sister wouldn't be trampled by the mob. The guard in front of us was wearing a face mask, but I could see a scar running down the side of his cheek as he wiped some sweat off his face. He grabbed me by the wrist so roughly that I let go of Mom's hand by accident. "That's ten. Run on up there, kid," he told me, "we're about to take off."

"Mom!" I cried, trying to get back to her, but the guard wouldn't let me.

"Please," Mom shouted at him, "That's my son! You have to let me go!"

"Stay back, ma'am," the guard told her, "We're over-crowded as it is - go to the next one!"

Mom ran toward the small space in between two guards where I was standing. She just managed to shove Christy at me before the guards pushed her back again. "Take care of her," she shouted at me, "I'll find another ship!"

I grabbed my sister in surprise, holding the toddler tightly as another guard began pushing me up the stairs. Scar-face looked in my direction for a second, seeing what my Mom had done, but shrugged and ignored the extra two-year-old that I carried up with me. I turned back to where Mom was standing as we made it to the top of the ramp, tears running down my face even though I didn't want to cry. She waited there until the door slid shut behind me, blocking her from view.

The ship began to rise, and I hoped my mother was trying to make it to another ship before it was too late. The guard who held my shoulder pushed me and Christy toward a window seat in the front, where I sat holding Christy on my lap with the duffel between my legs. I didn't see any of my friends from school, or anyone I knew at all for that matter. It was the scariest time of my life, and all I could do for the take-off was hold on tight to my sister.

There were a couple dozen families in the cramped cabin; there were fewer adults than kids. In the row across from us there was a family - a mother, an old man, and two boys - that had managed to stay together. I buried my face in Christy's sandy hair, trying hard not to cry. I was in charge now, so I had to be brave for my sister. Small thoughts wandered through my mind during take-off, like Why couldn't Mom be here? Where's Dad? Where's Adam? Where's Mercy? Why did they all abandon us?

All of a sudden the ship shuddered, nearly tossing us out of the seat. When I righted myself, I couldn't help but cry out " outside the window, the countryside seemed to suddenly sprout a huge red mushroom.

* * * * * * * *

The flight lasted hours. When it was safe to do so, I sat Christy on the floor in between my legs, pushing the duffel aside for the time being. By that time most of the kids had fallen asleep, except for a few of the older ones. I was impressed with my baby sister; she didn't cry very much, or at least not as loudly as she sometimes could.

I looked at the two boys across from me. They both looked Asian, with a yellowish tinge to their skin and slanted eyes. The older one was around my age, sitting in one of the cold seats with the younger one (who must have been around Mercy's age) seated between his knees. His mother sat with her arm around his shoulders, as his little brother slept. I held my hand out to him and introduced myself in a soft voice, “Hiya. I'm Davy. That's Christy.”

“Jesse,” he said, hesitantly shaking my hand, “An' that's Ryan.”

Ryan was nodding off next to Mercy, a couple streaks of tears staining his face as he gave the occasional sob. I didn't blame him " that explosion was scary. But I couldn't cry in front of this new guy, because (I reminded myself) big kids didn't cry and I needed to be a big kid for my sister. I had to be brave.

* * * * * * * *

Eventually I must have dozed off too, because the next thing I remember was Christy tugging at my arm. “Day-vy, hungwy!” she told me, “Wan' foo.” That, I assumed, was her way of saying, “David, I'm hungry. I want food.” It was the only thing she said I could ever understand.

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and looked around for my parents before remembering that it was just us. It was up to me to find something for Christy. Standing up as carefully as I could, and leaving the duffel bag in my seat so I could find my way back, I grabbed Christy's hand and guided her into the aisle. I was trying to keep her quiet so that we wouldn't wake people up while we went to find someone who knew if there was anything to eat. I didn't want to talk to the strangers on board, but luckily there were a couple of guards. Mom had always said that if I was in trouble I could go to the police, and these guys looked kind of like police. I tugged on one guard's arm and said, “Excuse me.”

“What is it, buddy?” The man squatted down to talk to me on my level, trying to smile for my sake.

I recognized the scar on his cheek, even though he wasn't wearing the mask any more. I would have said something, too, if Christy hadn't started crying right then. Shushing her, I asked him, “My sister's hungry. Is there anything to eat?”

The small smile faded. “I'm sorry, kid, but we don't have any supplies. If you can hold on for just a few more hours, we should get some food on the station.”

“Hungwy! Wan' foo!” Christy was getting upset, although I think she kept repeating it because I couldn't understand the rest of her babble. Who knows what went through the two year-old's head?

A girl came up to us, holding a foot-long protein bar. Not my first choice, but food was food. “Here,” she said, giving it to me, “We packed extra. My mommy had a 'mergency pack ready for me.”

The soft, bland bar would not only feed Christy, but it would tide both of us over until we reached the station. “Thanks,” I told the girl, accepting it from her. Christy made some babbling noises. “I think she's thanking you, too.”

“I'm Maddie,” the girl said, “And you are?” She was a little bit younger than me, an Irish girl with bright red hair and green eyes that reminded me of Mom's. Seeing those eyes almost made me cry again, but I sucked it up and told her my name instead. “Mind 'f I sit with you?” Maddie asked. I shrugged and led her back to my seat.

"Where're your parents?" I asked, unwrapping the protein bar and breaking it in half to give to Christy.

"I'm here alone," Maddie answered, and I saw my own fears reflected in her. I warmed up to the idea of us sticking together throughout the trip. It was hard to feel abandoned by your parents.

I noticed Jesse looking at me doling out the bar to my sister, but as soon as I did he turned to face forward. I looked down at my own piece, about to take a bite. Ryan had woken up as well, but he, too, didn't say anything. He didn't turn away when I noticed him looking at my bar. I sighed, realizing what I had to do.

“Here,” I said, giving my share of the bar to Jesse. He looked at me strangely.

“No, we're alright,” he said, but his eyes said otherwise as they stared hungrily at the protein bar.

I shoved it forward " if he didn't take it soon, I'd be taking it back. “Go on, I'm not hungry.”

Jesse took the bar from me and broke off a small piece. Popping that in his mouth, he gave most of the bar to his brother. “Thank you,” he said, and fell silent again.

Maddie sat down on the floor between us, in front of Christy and Ryan, and pulled out a pair of hand braces. When she put them on, the tips of them went past her fingers " they were too big for her, but she used them anyway. She pressed a button near the base of her wrist, and held her hands apart in front of her, palms facing each other.

The tips of the fingers glowed, as did other points on the palms of the device, and suddenly a bird appeared between her hands. Christy was fascinated, watching the brightly colored bird intently. “It's a puppet,” Maddie explained to them, “My mommy made it. I can make the bird move by moving my fingers.”

I looked at her hands and noticed that as the bird fluttered its wings, Maddie was vibrating her fingers very slightly. It must have taken a lot of control, but she knew how to use them and it kept my sister calm for the time being. We played with the puppet for the rest of the trip, attracting other young kids. If it weren't for Maddie, I think the other kids might've returned to crying, but she was really good at distracting them from their troubles.

The next thing I knew, Scar-face was telling us to go back to our seats so they could land.

* * * * * * * *

They moved us from the ship to a large room that looked like it might be used for assemblies. Scar-face pulled me, Christy, and Maddie over to a roped-off area of the room, where parent-less kids waited for someone to claim them. We were given name tags and told to sit quietly until we were told to move. Most of the kids were still too tired or shocked to interact, but a few came over when Maddie pulled out her puppet again.

Even though I was so young at the time I still remember the way that room looked. The ceiling was high, with a holographic roof making it resemble a Shakespearean theatre. The seats were evenly spaced, and the room easily sat a hundred families. Maddie and I waved to Jesse as he and his family walked by, trying to find a place to sit together. I never let go of Christy, hoping to find out what happened to the others soon.

An hour passed, then two, then three. At some point sandwiches and blankets were brought out for us, and Christy fell asleep again. I wondered what could be taking my Dad and siblings so long to get here. Did they make it to their ship? Did they forget about us? Where were they?

Soon a man came and claimed Maddie. She went off with him, who she said was her uncle. The hall thinned out slowly, but Christy and I were still there. Jesse gave me a sympathetic grin as he passed, holding Ryan's hand and following his mother up the aisle. We waited some more, and more, until there were only about fifty people left in the room.

I was just dozing off when a lady volunteer shook me awake. “Watson?” she asked us, “You're the Watson kids?” I told her that yes, we were. “Your father's here to pick you up. I'll take the little girl, if you could please come quietly.” I let out a sigh of relief, an invisible weight lifting off of me as I realized that my Dad hadn't forgotten about me after all.

They met us in the hallway outside of the assembly room. Christy was asleep in the lady volunteer's arms, and didn't even stir when Dad took her.

"Excuse me," he whispered to the lady, "Where's Nancy Watson? She should be watching them."

The volunteer shrugged, saying, "These two were with the unclaimed children. I don't know what might have happened to a caretaker."

"She didn't go on our ship," I said, my heart sinking, "She said she'd get the next one. you haven't found her yet?"

Dad's eyes widened. "Davy..." he started, but changed his mind. He settled by asking, "What happened?"

I told him how the guard wouldn't let Mom through, so she gave Christy to me. While I was talking, Dad gave Christy to Adam, while Mercy sat on the floor and dozed. Adam squinted at me as I spoke, his glasses missing; they had broken somewhere in the frenzy to get to the ships.

When I finished, Dad straightened up and started walking. I nudged Mercy awake and grabbed my duffel, trying to keep up. Dad led us to a small business room and told us to stay there. He left us there without telling us where he was going.

I turned to Adam, confused. "Why hasn't Mom found us yet?" I asked.

He set Christy down on the carpeted floor and sat down next to her. "There was no 'next ship', Davy," he told me, "The bombs were dropped just after our wave took off. The next ships didn't make it."

"But, where's Mom?" I repeated, still not understanding. Mom had gotten on the next ship; that's what she said.

Adam leaned his head back against the wall, his eyes closed. He was breathing heavily, even though he had set Christy down. Instead of answering me, he pretended to fall asleep. I dropped the question, not sure if I wanted to know the answer.

* * * * * * * *

Author's Note

What do you think of the characterization? Was it realistic?