A tall figure, covered in a dark blue cloak, standing in the shade of a massive tree that grows in a wide, open field. The head of the distinctly female person lifts, observing the clouds. In the distance, thus soundless, fiery shapes descend toward the surface, tearing those clouds apart. The woman turns and walks away from the tree, towards a small town.
436 years later
"No, listen to me. They know we have their offer beat and the Local Cluster Development knows very well that they will not be able to better us any more, not this late in the game, yet they still drag this on and on. Tell them I will give them one more week to decide. They might be in demand, but we are the ones with the supply. More than what they ask for, even."
"Very well, I'll try to make it a bigger point. So, business aside, do make sure to enjoy your free days off and don't let them be rained on by this. We will make it happen, don't worry."
"How is it that everyone in this company knows...Oh, never mind. Thank you and, yes, I will. We will speak again after the weekend."
Closing the conference video station with a sigh, she leans back and runs her hand through the mass of her long black hair. Turning around in her comfortable chair, she looks out of the large window behind her, onto the seemingly mono-colored white industrial district of The City, here on Home. The suns' light entering her offices, colors her naturally pale, almost white skin in a much more healthy shade. Anyone asked would say her golden eyes are piercing through them like daggers. Would they see them at this moment, though, they would see them half-lidded in contemplation.
Her interest in 'their' history making her think about the simplicity of the name 'they' gave their settlement back then, but they clung to it and nobody bothered to rethink that decision.
Almost a thousand years ago, Earth succumbed to massive solar flare outbursts of its sun. The protective layers of atmosphere were literally blown away, leaving free reign for the intense solar winds to scorch the surface. There were signs leading up to the event, which were interpreted correctly and more importantly early enough to allow an evacuation of the entire planet's inhabitants.
To an extent, at least. An arc, a large transport vessel, offering space for the collection of genetic information of all the then known species that inhabited earth was built, while being manned by almost a hundred, and, of course, their accommodations. The human population of the planet, which was slowly evacuated over a much longer period of time, well before the Arc, had migrated to this colony or that space station.
With the arc and the last of humanity leaving earth, they started to search for a new home planet. Unwilling to give that title to one of the existing colonies, mostly because they were settled on non-atmospheric worlds or on form-follows-function space stations orbiting such a planet, nearly three generations passed until they arrived at the planet deemed most suitable by astronomers. Well before they arrived, word spread quickly among the settlements and stations about a new earth having been found. The resemblances to the Blue Planet was slim, this one featuring a lot more landmasses and seas with a greenish hue, provided by the plant life under the water's surface.
The people quickly accustomed themselves to simply calling it Home, though no one was able to tell where that began or how it managed to spread and hold so steadfast onto all colonies. This extended to the name of the megacity that was planned to house everyone who applied to move in from one of the colonies. The concept of such a city was conceived and tried on earth, long before it became known that the planet would become uninhabitable. The simplicity of its name stemmed from the two facts that, first as with the planet itself, people called it City long before the world was even settled upon and second, because there were twelve people directly responsible for everything that concerned the creation of such a project. Nobody wanted to give a city twelve names, anagrams didn't produce anything feasible and, last but not least, none of the twelve was above another in either rank or standing.
With a shrug, she gets up, walks over to her VFU, the Vacuum Food Unit, and pulls out a pack of her favorite drink. Filling a large glass with the white liquid, she remembers the strange looks she gets for ordering milk. Two, sometimes three glasses even, in the cafeteria and everyone stares at her as if they never saw such a thing.
Oh well, their loss.
With that thought, she wipes away the "white beard", which, to her embarrassment, she sometimes forgets to remove. Binding her hair back, collecting her belongings from her desk, she heads out of her office. Her secretary, a strong-willed young woman, looks up from her typing and shows one of her rare, but radiant, genuine smiles. Almost craning her neck to see the tall woman's face, wiping away at her shoulder length blond hair falling over her green eyes.
"You finished for the day, Miss Lunastra? Do you have some nice plans for your days off? I could make a few recommendations, if you're interested." She greets and gives her usual offer for tips on where to spend a night out.
"Please, I told you to just call me by my first name." Her employer says, a daily exchange that goes on for quite a few weeks already. With the regularly accompanying sigh, the older woman continues "Anyway, you are a fan of the "old arts", as you call it, right? Theater and such."
"I will not call you by first name...abbreviation...uh, in business hours." Mu doesn't react to the stumbling of her secretary, which unsettles the latter a bit, every time the topic of her boss' name comes up, short as it may be. Shaking her head, the secretary continues "And yes, you are right. There are two very interesting plays in EC this weekend."
The Entertainment Center, hm? I do not think I am up for that busy a place this time. Mu thinks meanwhile. "Thank you, but I plan to make it a calm vacation this time." she responds, wearing a smile herself now.
"This time? Your last time was a year ago. You shouldn't...I'm sorry, that is your choice of course."
"Do not worry, I appreciate the thought" And if there is anything I have enough of, it is time. "Well then, I will see you on Monday." With a polite nod, the tall woman leaves her office behind.
–
The city was built entirely with a sturdy, white compound, the ingredients of which are unique to this continent. And, so far, to this planet. Well, we had been working with it on our own for so long. I guess, in hindsight, with the technology for refinement, provided when they settled down, there could be no other way for it than to work out this well. And then it turned out the material was suitable for nearly all conditions under which humans live now. she muses, as she exits the trade zone, a mix of a financial and production district, itself as large as some of the biggest cities of earth before its end
Had someone merely been told about a city, or even just a stretch of urban canyons kept in plain, pure white, they would likely have thought the glaring brightness on a sunny day would make living in such a place unbearable.
Apart from the very top of the tall buildings, a simple, yet clever design provides shade, or to be more precise spots where the light is basically dimmed, instead of reflected back onto the wide-open street canyons. Combined with the different spectrum of the planet's suns' light, it manages to make the living conditions much more comfortable, to a point of relaxing, compared to the 'urban jungles' that were on earth's large cities.
Amazing. To think it is only one company that has the exclusive rights to produce this material. So it is a good thing it is my company, I suppose. She shakes her head and chastises herself But no thoughts about work for the next few days. Lunastra looks around what is basically her city. Having had the home field advantage certainly provided me with very interesting possibilities. she thinks, as she strolls along the walkways towards the transport station closest to her office.
She indulged herself to leaving her company a little earlier than usual, which is why she now finds the streets almost empty, allowing her to immediately enter one of the transport tube's cabins. Once comfortably seated, she puts on the Vid Glasses placed in every cabin of the tube, to watch the news feed. The newscaster appeared and announced: "An hour ago, at 14:03 Home Time, Station 4 on the outer rim suffered a heavy attack, resulting in several dozen dead Soldiers. A carrier managed to jump into the area just 6 minutes later, but the station already suffered two major hits by..."
With a sigh, she puts the glasses away again. If there is any consistency in the history of humanity, it is that there will always be a war. You would think with the amount of times it happened, with all the damages it caused them throughout all social classes...They even warn themselves in all kinds of media, especially the books about then-futuristic settings. Learning from past mistakes is not a part of that species' vast repertoire of characteristics. I suppose that, among so many things, is what makes them so interesting to some of us.
Upon reaching her stop, Lunastra undoes the safety straps, gets up and pushes the button to open the door. Exiting into the much more colorful residential district, the station being set into a comparably small shopping area, she threads her way through the throng of people, who are waiting for the group transport cabins, that will take them to their workplaces, since the first night shifts at the production plants are beginning soon. The suns already hanging low, only just left peeking over the top of the living-blocks, they cover everything in a fiery red, mixed with the light blue caused by the reaction between the artificial carbon dioxide and natural atmosphere of the planet.
Lunastra heads for the local market, the thought of a nice meal, her comfy couch and a cold glass of milk lets her walk that little bit faster.
A short while later, finally at home, she before makes herself comfortable as intended, dressed in nothing but a big, white shirt, she wanders along her small library. Uncommon in the days of purely digital, instantly available literature, she developed a liking for the written word on cooked, then dried fibers of wood.
Indulging in an archaic, expensive and, for prolonged periods of time, somewhat uncomfortable pastime. If my father knew, he would shake his head. Then again, mother does something similar, so it is very likely he at least suspects I have an inclination to some form of..hm..nostalgic pastime. Choosing a book, she settles down on her couch.
After a few hours lost in her book, she drinks the last of her third glass of milk and a long yawn escapes her. Deciding to end the day, she gets up, stretches with a delighted sigh and heads for her bedroom to prepare her wardrobe for the following day. As she wanders through her condo, her path leads her past the only closed door, generally the only other door beside the one securing the entrance, of her home.
A sudden, but ever so often recurring feeling makes her stop next to it. Yet again, I have neglected you for a long period of time. I hope, some day, when we can finally meet, you will be able to forgive me.
Hesitating for a moment, she puts her hand and her forehead on the slightly warm wooden door. Behind it, an almost, not quite, palpable hum of a feeling, the notion of something on the brink to life. A state it has been in for so long. A tear escapes her eyes, wiping it away hastily. Determinedly, though with a heavy heart, she turns away. And proceeds to her bedroom.
Once finished with preparations and a quick, ice cold shower later, she makes her way under the sheets, warmed by an entire day of sunlight. The lingering thoughts about the object in her closet, some providing the distinct taste of regret - about what, she doesn't know - drift away easily into the night. The soothing sheets she wraps herself in, tugged almost entirely over her head, do the rest.