CHAPTER TWO
Earth Year 2232
47 years on Icarus
Mackenzie Miller opened her eyes the moment the sunlight began to creep through the steel visors on her bedroom window. She hadn't been sleeping. She doubted that anyone had slept much that night. Not when they knew what today was.
Pushing herself up, Mackenzie sat on the edge of her bed and stared down at the end of her left arm. Where a hand should have grown from her wrist, there was instead nothing. Using her one hand, Mackenzie rubbed the stump, as if making sure nothing was there.
Mackenzie had been born without her hand. It was a congenital defect that had caused her to be born with only her right hand. It didn't bother her, she was used to it. It was just on days like today she would study the place where her hand should have been, its absence serving as a reminder of how fragile people were.
Sighing, Mackenzie got out of bed and quickly dressed in a pair of loose-fitting khaki pants and a long-sleeved cotton shirt, though she rolled the sleeves up to her elbows (having some difficulty with one, due to her lack of a left hand). Then she exited her bedroom and was immediately in the tiny space that passed as the kitchen. Mackenzie raked her fingers through her shoulder-length, sand-colored hair, yawning as she spotted her mother sitting at the rectangular bench that was the center of the kitchen.
Lorelei Miller was a slender woman, probably thinner than was healthy, but the same could be said for pretty much everyone in their little civilization. Lorelei had the same sand-colored hair that Mackenzie did, though hers was becoming streaked with gray. Her hazel eyes looked tired and crows feet were becoming more evident on her face as the years passed, but she was still quick to smile in even the most dark moments. Much like today.
"Hey, Mom," Mackenzie mumbled, heading towards the cooler that was built into the wall.
"Hi sweetie," Lorelei replied. "Sleep well?"
"Hmph," Mackenzie grunted. "As well as I could have, I guess. We got any water?"
"Not much," Lorelei sighed. "There's some on the bottom shelf. Hopefully we get more today."
Mackenzie crouched lower to see a short jug in the cooler. It was far more empty than full. Mackenzie took out the jug while Lorelei slid a glass towards her on the bench. Mackenzie poured little more than a mouthful of water into the glass and returned the jug to the cooler. She sat down across from Lorelei and slowly sipped at her water. Odds were this was all she was going to drink today, so she had to make the best of it.
"Where's Dad?" Mackenzie asked casually, not making eye contact with her mother.
"He's, erm..." Lorelei replied, hesitating before replying. "He's... getting ready."
Mackenzie didn't need to ask what for. She knew what Joseph Miller was getting ready for. Everyone did. Ever since it was announced yesterday, no one had much time to think about anything else. This sort of thing always brought a sense of quiet over the shambles that was their little city. People trying to go on like the day was like any other, but knowing that it just wasn't true.
"Oh," Mackenzie said simply. "Okay."
"Do you..." Lorelei began, awkwardly. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Mackenzie shook her head. It was the last thing she wanted to do. "No, I'm fine."
"Are you sure?" Lorelei asked, eyeing her daughter scrupulously.
"Yep," Mackenzie nodded, sipping on her water again. Then, setting the glass on the table, perhaps a little too hard, she added, "I might head out. It should be starting soon, yeah?"
"You don't have to go, sweetie," Lorelei said gently.
"Sure I do," Mackenzie replied. "It'd make Dad look bad if I didn't go. Like I didn't support him. I might see you there."
"Okay then," Lorelei said, still looking concerned as Mackenzie placed her glass of water in the cooler and began heading for the door. Then she said suddenly, "Oh! I almost forgot! Happy birthday, sweetie."
Mackenzie forced herself to smile as she gave her mother a hug. "Thanks, Mom," she said, but what she was really thinking was, Yeah, happy birthday. Hell of a day to celebrate turning 20.
Mackenzie opened the door to their little shack and stepped out of the gloom and into a day that was already becoming close to blinding. Pausing and squinting around, letting her eyes adjust, Mackenzie took in the sight of the "city" that held the last remnants of humanity.
Hundreds of shacks, just like the one owned by her family, pockmarked the dry and stony landscape around her, and thousands more stood out of sight. The homes had been thrown together using whatever materials people could find. Stones, sheets of steel, wooden boards and sticks, some had even managed to make bricks out of sand and other resources, but most saw this as a waste of time and energy. Everyone knew that they wouldn't stay here forever, and then the homes would be torn down to recycle the materials in the next location.
Each home had one or two flat panels of a glass-like substance attached to the roof or an exterior wall. They were all the solar power panels that gave them electricity. Mackenzie watched one of her neighbors climbing a ladder and sweeping dust from the solar panel. The upkeep on maintaining electricity was incredibly demanding.
The entire area that housed humanity was completely flat, covered in sand and dirt. Far off in the distance, Mackenzie could see mountains, but they were miles and miles away, and even they looked brown and dead.
All around, Mackenzie saw people beginning to move about their days, though with a lot less determination than usual. Few people spoke. Normally neighbors would say good morning or gossip with one another; today they were mostly silent, simply nodding to one another, or moving on without a word. Even the children seemed deflated. None were playing. They simply sat together, watching the grown-ups. The younger kids weren't allowed to attend today's event, but they all knew what it was. They all knew what was going to happen.
"Mackenzie!" someone yelled out, snapping her out of her melancholy.
Turning around, Mackenzie saw one of her friends jogging casually towards her. Ethan Renaud, a guy she had known pretty much her entire life. He was only a month older than Mackenzie, but was easily a foot taller, maybe more, though it was hard to tell due to the fact that he often slouched a little. He had wavy chestnut brown hair that he never tamed, letting it fall wherever it wanted to on his head, though today he was wearing a baseball cap with a scarf tucked under it, the cotton material hanging down over his neck to protect his skin from the sun. He was thin and wiry, but anyone who thought that he was weak often was quickly proven wrong, especially if they tried to start something with him. When they were younger, Mackenzie had seen more than one bully be sent to the infirmary after a single punch that rendered them unconscious for the rest of the day.
Ethan was wearing a pair of cargo pants, a white long-sleeved shirt, and his sturdy black boots. Normally he would already be working at "the shop," which was the name given to the engineering shack that handled most of the building and repairs that were daily life in this desert landscape. Today, however, Mackenzie was surprised to see him heading her way with a goofy grin on his thin face.
"Ethan?" she said in her surprise, smiling to see him anyway. "Shouldn't you be working?"
Ethan shrugged as he came to a stop in front of Mackenzie. "Morning off," was all he said about it, but Mackenzie could guess as to the reason why the engineers got a late start today. Same reason as for everyone else. Then she suddenly noticed Ethan was holding something under his arm. A square box that was haphazardly wrapped in packing paper.
"What's that?" Mackenzie asked.
Ethan grinned wider, then held the package out to her. "This is your birthday present. Happy birthday."
Mackenzie took the package from him, her heart lifting for the first time in about 24 hours.
"You didn't have to get me anything," Mackenzie said.
"I know," Ethan shrugged. "Doesn't mean I shouldn't, though. You gonna open it?"
"Yeah!" Mackenzie grinned. "Here, help hold it, will ya?"
Ethan he
ld the package while Mackenzie tore it open with her one hand. Opening the box, Mackenzie peered inside.
At first, Mackenzie thought she was looking at a severed hand and she gasped slightly in shock. Then she realized that it was made of steel and rubber and other materials she couldn't recognize. It was, however, definitely a hand.
"What's this?" Mackenzie asked, carefully lifting the strange object out of the box.
"This, Mackenzie," Ethan began excitedly, tossing the box aside, "is a bionic hand. I remembered you saying a while back how frustrated you get sometimes because of only having one hand, how you hated having to work at the wells because of it, so I made this for you. It should make daily life a little easier." Then, as if suddenly feeling uncomfortable, he added, "But, you know, you don't have to wear it if you don't like it. It was just a thought."
Mackenzie stared down at the hand in amazement. It was mostly made of steel, but the part that would have been the wrist was covered in some kind of gel or rubber. Between gaps in the steel "skin," Mackenzie could see dozens of tiny little cogs in all of the joints, right where fingers would bend, as well as tiny pistons that looked like they controlled the movement of the hand. The tips of each finger was covered in a rubber grip, which felt a lot like the soles of her shoes.
"Ethan," Mackenzie began, not sure what to say. "I said that, like, two years ago, when I first started work in the wells."
Shrugging again, Ethan said, "Yeah, well, I still remembered."
"How did you build this?" Mackenzie asked, staring down at the hand.
Ethan grinned again and spoke with excitement, like a little boy would talk about his toys.
"I found the schematics for all kinds of bionics in the old Panspermia archives about a year ago," he said. "Stuff like hands, legs, arms, there was even one for eyes! I really wanted to build one, you know, try it out, and I just thought of you. Here, let me show you how it works."
Ethan took the bionic hand from Mackenzie and, gently gripping her forearm, carefully slipped the bionic hand over her stump, while Mackenzie watched silently. Ethan pressed a small red button on the side of the hand, which automatically tightened the gel grip around Mackenzie's wrist. It was tight, but not uncomfortable. The gel was surprisingly warm and soft.
"The gel absorbs the heat from your body," Ethan began to explain, pointing as he still held Mackenzie's arm. "The gel then turns that heat into power for the bionic. There are thousands of tiny sensors inside the wrist, too, which can read the tiny commands your brain sends to your hand to make it move and stuff. The sensors can read those commands through skin contact and then move. Here, try it out. Try to move your fingers."
Mackenzie looked down at the strange contraption on the end of her arm, doubting that it could do much of anything. Despite her doubts, she thought about extending the fingers. She commanded them to move. Nothing happened.
"Looks like you misread the instructions," Mackenzie teased.
Ethan shook his head, though. "No, no, it should work! Trust me. Try again, it might just take some practice."
Stifling a sigh, Mackenzie looked back down to the hand and tried again. She thought about how she would naturally move her own real hand, then tried to recreate the movement in the steel hand strapped to her wrist.
To her amazement, the index and middle fingers suddenly extended, reaching out like she was lazily making a peace sign.
"Holy crap!" Mackenzie screamed, drawing a few glances from passers-by. "It worked! Oh my God, Ethan, you're a genius!"
"Does that mean you like it?" Ethan asked, flashing his goofy grin again.
Mackenzie, by way of response, threw her arms around Ethan and hugged him as tight as she could.
"I'll take that as a yes," Ethan laughed, hugging her back.
At that moment, more people were beginning to pass by, leaving their homes and all walking in the same direction. Taking it as their cue to leave, Mackenzie and Ethan fell into line with everyone else. Ethan walked a little taller than usual, no longer slouching for the moment, while Mackenzie stared in awe down at her new hand, testing out the movement. It was difficult at first to make the fingers move and to turn the wrist, but she found that she was quickly getting the hang of it and the movements were becoming more fluid and natural. Almost exactly like a real hand.
"This is awesome, Ethan," Mackenzie said. "Think of all the people you could help with this kind of technology. Like Mr White, maybe he could walk again with something like this!"
"Yeah, you're right," Ethan said, as though the idea had never occurred to him before.
"You need to show this to people," Mackenzie said, suddenly moving the hand towards Ethan, as if offering it to him. "You should take it back and-"
"No," Ethan said firmly. "I've got all the schematics and stuff, I can make more for anyone else who needs them. That hand is yours, though. I made it for you. You keep it."
Mackenzie, despite wanting Ethan to use his talents at building things to help everyone, was quietly relieved that he hadn't taken the hand back. While she was accustomed to living with only one hand, and she didn't let it hold her back in every day life, there were still things that she wanted to do but couldn't because of her disability. Her choice of jobs, for example, was severely limited because of only having one hand. Now, however, she felt as though she had some kind of freedom handed to her. She felt liberated.
"Thank you, Ethan," she said again, staring down at the bionic hand, clenching and unclenching her new fingers. "Really. Thank you."
"No problem," Ethan grinned. Then he turned seemed to become excited by the hand all over again and added, "It's really cool, can you believe it's waterproof? Up to a depth of twelve feet!"
"So cool," Mackenzie agreed, still watching the metal fingers move at the end of her arm.
Suddenly, they found themselves amongst a crowd and their smiles quickly faded. Everyone was standing still and staring out at the edge of the town, where the shacks and solar panels and humanity itself simply stopped and the horizon gave way to the expanse of Icarus. Nothing but desert and stone, as far as the eye could see. The entire planet, nothing but rust-colored sand, dirt and rocks. No green. No movement. No water.
"It always shocks me," Mackenzie said quietly as she stared out at the ceaseless dead world. "How could we survive so long here? Hardly anything can grow in the dirt. Next to no water, except for trickles of underground wells. I kind of forget just how bad it is until we come out here."
"Your dad helped a lot with keeping us all alive," Ethan pointed out. "Your granddad, too, Captain Miller. It's like your family is just made to look out for the rest of us."
"So far, anyway," Mackenzie muttered, feeling uncomfortable as she felt the familiar pressure of her family name.
Suddenly, the whispering and talking that had been a part of the crowd simply stopped. Mackenzie looked up and, over the shoulders of those in front of her, could see why.
Four people were making their way out of a larger, wooden, shack and walking towards the front and center of the crowd. Two were dressed in tanned uniforms and combat helmets and sunglasses. They were also carrying large rifles. There was a man walking between them, his eyes downcast and his shoulders slumped in defeat. His wrists were tied together in front of him with some kind of plastic cord. And leading this strange procession was a man dressed in plain cotton pants and a large, overflowing shirt that hung almost to his knees. He looked grim, as though he wished he could be anywhere else, but he also had a strange determination in his eyes, because he knew this had to be done.
Joseph Miller. Mackenzie's father, and the leader of their small society. Years ago, before Mackenzie was born, Joseph was considered a hero to many, as a result of his efforts to ensure as many people as possible could live through another day. He often said that all he wanted was to make sure humanity survived. He needed no recognition for this, and wanted none. Because of his ability to lead, to motivate, and his actions that had kept the human rac
e alive so far, people all looked up to him. It was no wonder people wanted him to take the leading office of Secretary-General after the previous leader died. It was too great an honor for Joseph to refuse.
Even when he had to make the hard decision that brought them all to stand on the edge of their world.
Joseph Miller stood and faced the crowd, while the prisoner and his two guards stood behind him. He didn't spot Mackenzie in the crowd, but Mackenzie suspected that he was looking for her. His eyes kept drifting from face to face. It wasn't required that everyone witness this, and Mackenzie knew her father wished she was still too young to attend, but it was important that she be seen supporting his decisions as Secretary-General. Especially this decision. It didn't happen often, but it was always rough to see.
"Everyone," Joseph began, speaking loud enough for everyone to hear. "I know that we would all rather be elsewhere on this morning. God knows I would much prefer to be in my office, doing the most mundane work I could possibly find. But this is our law. And it must be upheld, no matter how much we wish it could be otherwise."
All eyes suddenly drifted from Joseph to the prisoner. Mackenzie knew his name was Zachary Estrada. He was one of the men she worked with at the well; pulling what water they could out of the ground and purifying it for the town to drink. The well had been running low lately, however, as always seemed to happen eventually, resulting in everyone being on tight rations. Estrada had been caught stealing extra water from the purifier, which was considered an unforgivable offence.
Joseph turned from the crowd and faced Estrada.
"Zachary Estrada," he said firmly. "You were tried for the theft of our most precious resource; water. You were found guilty of this crime and have been sentenced to banishment. Do you have any final words before we send you away?"
Estrada finally looked up from his feet and fixed his eyes on the crowd. They were red and puffy, as though he had been crying. Mackenzie strongly suspected he had been.
"I wish we could do something," she whispered to Ethan. "I know him from the wells, he's not a bad guy."
"I'm sure," Ethan replied softly. "But he still broke the law. He knew what would happen if he got caught. This is on him."
Mackenzie pressed her lips tightly together and said nothing more, instead watching Estrada closely as he took several deep breaths before speaking.
"I have a baby," Estrada choked. "A wife. The rations weren't enough for them. I know what I did was wrong, but... who of you wouldn't have done the same? I did what any father would have done. We're all dying. The well is running dry, just like they all do! The water is going to run out soon, don't you see that? I did what I had to do, for my family. How long before the rest of you become as desperate as I was?"
"We will do what we always do," Joseph said to him. "Survive. We always knew the well would dry out eventually, just like the time before, and the time before. We'll move to a new location, with more water. It's what we do. It's how we survive. But it only works if everyone follows the rules that our parents, all those who are no longer with us, set out. Rules, which you broke knowing full well the consequences."
Joseph nodded once at the guards on either side of Estrada. One guard shouldered his weapon, while the other took several steps back and trained her gun on Estrada. The male guard released Estrada from his bonds and then also stepped back, aiming his gun at Estrada. Joseph stepped toward Estrada and reached into the pocket of his large top. He retrieved a canteen full of water, a small bag with half a loaf of bread, and a small revolver.
Estrada was handed each of these items in turn, but saved the revolver for last. Joseph carefully placed the gun in Estrada's hand, moving slowly, keeping a watchful eye on Estrada's movements. Mackenzie noticed the guards stiffen and tighten their grips on their weapons the moment the revolver made contact with Estrada's hand. If he tried anything, Mackenzie suspected he would be dead before he could even pull back the hammer.
"You have enough food and water to last you as long as you can stretch it out," Joseph said thickly. "The gun... you can use it however you see fit."
It was an unspoken offering. Many would describe it as a cruelty, but it was actually a mercy. Whenever someone was banished, they could take their chances in the wastelands of Icarus, using the gun to hunt for food, as long as they themselves didn't get hunted first by the dangerous wildlife. Or they could take a different route.
Estrada stared down at the gun in his hand for a moment, tears running down his face. He looked up at Joseph and the crowd of onlookers. There was a moment where he met Mackenzie's eyes and they stared at one another for a moment. Mackenzie wished there was something she could do, while Estrada looked as though he was silently pleading for someone to intervene. Then he placed the gun against his head.
Mackenzie took a sharp intake of breath, like she wanted to shout something, to stop him, anything, but then she stopped herself. There was nothing she could do.
And so Zachary Estrada pulled the trigger, taking the other route.
As the shot echoed across the desert and Estrada fell, everyone was silent for a while, just staring at the body. Joseph Miller sighed heavily, a deep frown on his face as he regarded the former member of their society. Mackenzie could hear a couple of people sobbing in the crowd and she wondered where Estrada's wife and child were.
Sighing again, Joseph Miller bent down and retrieved the canteen, the bread, and the gun. Without a word, he began to walk away, and the two guards picked up the body by the arms and dragged it away for burial. Finally, the crowd began to disperse. It was time to get on with surviving.