The land was dry and steely patches of the ground glinted back the dull red light of the rising sun. Stone pillars leaned against one another or lay half-buried in the dust. The vague forms of what had once been homes were strewn amongst the tall concrete spires. A rail-walker stood up from under a layer of the rust-red dust. She untied the hood that came all the way down over her face and pulled back the cloth to reveal only her golden hazel eyes. The rest of her face was wrapped in a second layer of tattered cloth, guarding her mouth and nose. She looked out at where the sun rose from the edge of topsky. The bloody light washed the whole of the world in a hue of doomsday fire.
The rail-walker stooped down and ran one of her gloved hands through the abrasive powder. The dust fell away and revealed a polished metal pipe that had been cut to a jagged point at one end. She drew up the crude weapon and glanced back over her shoulder toward lowsky, and the clouds of iron dust only partially obscured the stars shining there. The pure white light caught in the rail-walkers eyes, the only pure thing that they had ever seen.
Day was slow to come into its own. The sun lingered at the edge of the horizon where topsky and the world’s edge met. The circular portal into topsky became clearer as the winds of the previous night died away. The dust settled, leaving the red desert still and forlorn. The rail-walker bowed her head away from the harsh light. The hell-light of the sun was particularly painful this morning. It drove pinpricks of light into her eyes, even when they were closed, and she felt her skin being sunscorched through her clothes. She took a moment to hide behind one of the large concrete pillars. With the pillar between her and topsky she faced directly back toward lowsky. Above her and to either side was the entirety of Newarth, or as it had once been called, New Earth. She took one of the two water bladders she was carrying and drank from the sealed spout. The rail-walker only revealed her face for as long as it took to drink a few mouthfuls of water. Her skin was ruddy with the dust that had permeated her mask, and it had dried her skin terribly, marking her face with sores. Yet, in spite of this it was clear that she was young. She was too young to be daring a venture on her own in this place. She looked up at Newarth and saw that the other continents were still green, still alive. She counted three of the five great rivers that divided the whole of her world into six separate continents. One of the great rivers was blocked out under its own private thunderstorm. The last great river should run somewhere nearby where the rail-walker was currently sitting, but that had been a long time ago. The war had gone wrong, and the river had been lost because of it.
Finished with her rest the rail-walker got back to her feet. She turned back toward topsky, holding her hand before her like a shield against the sun’s light.
#
The rail-walker reached the water pump an hour earlier then she planned. The pump was spewing water right back into an open water vein. She bent down and examined the pump. It was makeshift, welded pieces of metal and a half strip of solar panel that had been crudely repaired with silicon paneling. The mark of its maker had long since worn away. The water vein though, looked to be genuine. She looked around and then quietly took out a very old very wide piece of paper. She held it out before her, and looked at the many lines that crossed here and there across the paper’s surface. Each line was numbered, and every number meant something to the rail-walker. Then she took a sextant from another pocket and aimed it up at Atlantic River, which ran the straightest of all three rivers that she could see from her continent. She wrote the degrees in the dust with a finger. Then she took several readings from different stars she was familiar with to make sure that she knew where she was. She wrote out the math in the dust and then looked at the large paper again.
She dropped to the ground next to the open water vein still holding the map before her. She said aloud, “Water pipeline 231b.” Then she looked around as if expecting someone would comment on this discovery, but there was no one. The Rail-walker tenderly folded up the schematic and returned it to her pocket, and then she removed her mask again and drank all that was left in both her water bladders. She refilled them and the splashed some of the water on her face washing away the dust and revealing that her skin was sunburned, in addition to the sores from her dry skin and poor diet. She walked over to a nearby pillar and took shelter in its shade.
The rail-walker rested for a second time that day. A group of people dressed similarly to her came walking from the direction of topsky. They were carrying all manner of water tight bottles, sacks, and buckets. The rail-walker slipped around to the other side of the pillar the moment she saw them. They did not seem to notice her tracks in the dust, but she lifted her wrappings about her face once more and gripped her makeshift spear in both hands.
The pilgrims to the water hole concluded their duty of filling up their containers. All of them took a moment to drink from the water vein and then they set off again in the direction that they had come. The rail-walker came out from where she had been hiding and watched them go. Once they were well ahead of her she followed after.