[In case anyone's wondering, I'm unable to respond to reviews, and it seems to have something to do with accounts not being logged in when the review is left, or something. I'm still not sure what the deal is. A pity, because I would love to discuss feedback, but apparently I'm not smart enough to figure out the review system here. Meh! So, anyway, my apologies if there's no direct answer to your review.]

1

The sun shines down out of a clear blue sky as the feeling washes over me, that something terrible is lurking just below the surface. A nebulous threat everywhere around me. I pause my work, trying to remove the damaged water valve on the irrigation line, and look out over the sprawling acreage of the Sheffield's farm. Other small groups of farmhands are scattered around, working at their various assigned tasks in the distance. Fight or flight kicks in, telling me I need to get the hell out of here, but I know from long experience there's nothing there.

There's nothing to run from or fight, just a broken fear response that's been set off by any number of things. I pull in a deep breath of the warming, mid-morning air as I look off further into the distance, at Iron City. One of only two cities in the known world. The deep breath of air helps calm my nerves, but only enough to slow down the onset of the nausea that's starting to fill my senses.

I shift my gaze just slightly upward to the sky right over Iron City. Hanging over it's center like a gigantic umbrella is the other city, Zalem, hanging from an enormous space elevator. From this distance, Zalem looks like a flattened child's toy top hanging from the sky by a thick string. I turn away and focus back on my work to replace the damaged valve while a steady stream of water soaks the front of my pants and dribbles all over my old combat boots. An unpleasant buzzing fills my head and I feel my muscles begin to weaken.

'Just great, another fucking anxiety attack,' I think to myself. This is the third or fourth one now since arriving here a year ago. It'll be the first one that'll happen in public.

There's no way I can get away from everyone out here, so I just keep going with my work. Sure enough, just as I've finally gotten that damned valve removed, my breathing becomes rapid and labored, shallow and my vision begins to grey out. My knees buckle and I lean against the waist-high support the irrigation pipe rests on. Slowly sliding to the ground, I hear my co-worker loudly asking if something's wrong. I settle onto the muddy ground, feeling cool water soak the back of my pants. I'm distantly irritated as now both front and back are all wet.

My co-worker, a man with a pair of cybernetic arms that look just a little mis-matched in appearance and an emerald green mohawk, squats down next to me, "Hey! You alright?"

I hadn't learned the man's name so I've mentally named him 'Mcgee'. Despite my pointedly trying not to engage him in conversation, he hasn't shut up about his 'romantic' conquests since we've been out here. Not that his accent, somewhere between cajun and something that I can't really identify, makes it easy for me to understand all of what he's been saying.

I manage to nod, my skin going cold as the feeling of nausea grows. White noise screams in my head as my senses begin feeling distant and dull. I'm not so weak that I'm entirely immobile, so it's not a real bad attack.

It's an effort to speak but I manage, my words slurring, "Musta eaten someth... somethin' that didn' agree with me." My head is lolling slightly, trying to fall forward and my breathing becomes labored.

Natira and one of the other farmhands appear near me, both looking concerned. Natira's chestnut complexion is shadowed by the broad-brimmed grey hat that shades her similarly-colored eyes from the sun. A woman in her mid-thirties who I've known for a few months now, she's one of the few people I'm sure I can trust, but the other two? I've heard at least one story of someone collapsing from the mid-day heat only to have a few of the other workers nearby take advantage of the opportunity to make off with some of that person's things.

Henry has made it clear that, even though they need the workers, anyone caught doing something like that on this farm will be looking for work elsewhere. I can't see them taking things that far, since I'm aware and Henry'll likely hear about it.

Natira leans in close, her concern clearly visible even through the grey haze clouding my vision. "Jason! Are you alright?" When I don't immediately respond she stands up. "I'll go get help."

I slowly put up a hand and manage to push out the slurred words, "Tha's alright. I jus' need ta sit for a bit." I let my hand drop, unable to keep it up. The world is spinning furiously.

Hesitantly, Natira kneels back down. "Are you sure? You don't look so good." She turns to Mcgee, "What happened?"

Mcgee shrugs, ducking his head. "I dunno. One second we're workin' and everything seems fine. The next, he starts slidin' to the ground."

At about that time a fourth person arrives, carrying a bottle of water. Natira takes it and helps me drink. It doesn't help much but it's welcome. After a few moments my vision clears and the nausea passes. The world stops spinning and I breath an audible sigh of relief as strength returns to my limbs.

"Well," I say with a touch of false cheer, "I think I've had about enough of that." I begin climbing to my feet.

Natira and Mcgee each grab hold of an arm and help me up. There's a bit more fussing over me but I manage to deflect it. "It wasn't anything serious. See? I'm fine now."

Once they see that I do indeed seem fine, everyone get's back to work. With the passing of the anxiety attack I feel as if an intense pressure has been released and the rest of the work goes by smoothly. After replacing the valve, we move on to the next section. Strangely, my attitude towards 'Mcgee' shifts. After his assistance during my attack, I find myself feeling a bit more at ease around him, despite my trying to keep my guard up. As a result, my annoyance with his constant yammering also eases up and we begin to actually converse a little.

I learn that he goes by the name Zee. Turns out he's a pretty decent fellow, or at least a reasonable facsimile of one, considering what the world's turned into. As he tells it, he lost an arm in an accident while working construction in Iron City, repairing some damage to a Factory building that got tore up. Apparently it's unusual for the Factory to hire independents like that, so he jumped at the chance as well as the substantial pay that was offered. According to him the damage was caused when a young cyborg woman by the name of Alita went ballistic and trashed a bunch of the Factory's centurion combat droids as well as some of the Factory building.

"Decided to get the other arm replaced while I was at it," he says with a grin. "Figured it was a good time to get some upgrades."

I have my doubts about the veracity of that Alita story. I have a passing familiarity with this young woman from the Motorball videos I've seen around Iron City and I'm well aware that damage to Factory property is inevitably a death sentence. Considering the firepower they must have at their disposal, I have a hard time believing that she's managed to avoid a running firefight with Factory enforcers all these months since her trashing them supposedly happened. Granted, what I've seen of her on those Motorball advertising videos was impressive, ripping apart other Motorball players five times her size and all that. However, I've learned in my time here that the Factory does not take prisoners when it comes to someone wrecking their stuff.

By noon things heat up real good. I do a quick conversion to the metric system that the locals use almost exclusively and figure the temperature has climbed into the 30's celcius, maybe higher. My field jacket had helped ward off the slight chill of the morning but now, even without the insulated liner it boosts my temperature a bit higher. Still, I keep it on to protect me from sunburn. Plus, working on the water line is wet work and that helps to keep me cooled down.

Henry drives out around midday with one of the other farmhands to deliver lunch to everyone in the field. I see one of the workers, the one that brought me water, talk to Henry and they both glance in my direction. He then makes his way over to where I'm sitting in the paltry shade of the irrigation pipe and I brace for whatever's about to come, probably something to do with my collapse.

Henry's a pretty big man, standing at six foot two. Or rather, one-hundred and eighty-plus centimeters. His youngish face belies his sixty-plus years of age and his two cyberarms, upgrades he got years ago before managing to buy the rights to work this farm, are built for strength to better keep up with the demands of Factory work. They give him an intimidating build. I've learned from his daughter, Loretta that he treats his workers as well as he does because of how he was treated by the Factory. He vowed to never treat another person like that. That doesn't mean you wanna get on his bad side, however.

Henry gets to my position and leans on the pipe. "Hey, Jason. Heard you had a bit of difficulty out here. Everything alright?"

"A minor disagreement," I toss out casually, taking a bite out of my sandwich.

Henry tilts his head to one side and narrows his eyes a little. "Disagreement, eh? Care to elaborate?"

With an unconcerned manner I tell him, "I wanted to keep workin', body disagreed." A little shrug, "Everything's fine now, though."

He nods, looking dubious. "Well... if you're sure."

Keeping my expression nonchalant, I tell him, "I'm sure. Whatever it was, it passed. I feel fine now."

"Alright, but if you even think there might be a need to see a doctor be sure to let me know. I got no problem giving you a lift into the city if need be, okay?"

"I appreciate it. If anything changes I'll be sure to let you know, thanks." I smile and take a drink of water. I am actually appreciative of his offer. It's a half-hour drive back to Iron City, so that's kind of a big deal considering all the work that's needing to be done.

Henry flashes a quick smile of his own and nods before walking back to his truck to finish taking food out to the other crews working the fields. I watch him go, letting my smile fade. This is the first public anxiety attack. It won't be long now before it'll be impossible to hide my illness anymore. Maybe a month, give or take. Had to happen sometime.

The end of the day arrives with no further complication.

During dinner that evening Natira sits down with me after I find myself a seat in the little dining hall. She expresses more concern over my well-being and I reassure her all's well. Despite my attempting to deflect it, she has lately begun expressing a bit more than a friendly interest in me, for reasons that are beyond my comprehension. As the two of us eat, we talk for a bit when Loretta shows up.

She greets Natira as she slides into a seat and turns to me, her wavy blonde pony-tail swinging like a pendum behind her, "Hey, Jason."

I can't help but smile as I return her greeting, "Hey there, Kiddo." Only in her early twenties, but she's already shouldered a good deal of the burden of running this farm to help out her dad.

"You doin' okay?" she asks me, as she surreptitiously grabs a slice of fruit off my plate.

I raise an eyebrow at her theft and say, "I'm doin' fine. Your Dad asked me that too. As have a few other people." I glance meaningfully at Natira.

"Okay," Loretta replies, smiling impishly as she nibbles on the fruit slice, "just wanted to be sure."

I quietly chuckle, "Or maybe you just wanted to snack on my dinner?"

She shifts her features into a comically offended look, "Or maybe I really am worried about you! And really hungry." With the speed of a striking snake, she grabs another fruit slice.

I chuckle a bit more loudly. Knowing she probably hasn't eaten yet with all the work she and her father have to keep up on, I push my plate toward her slightly, "It's okay, you can have some."

"Nah, I'm fine," she says as she takes a larger bite from the fruit, "I actually got the chance to eat earlier." She turns to Natira and asks her, "Oh, by the way, how're things with the family?"

Natira smiles brightly, pausing her eating to answer, "They're all fine. The money I've been sending has really helped out. Here's hoping things start to turn around finally."

Natira's been sending half her pay back to her family in Iron City. They live in one of the rougher neighborhoods and have been trying to get the savings together to move to a better area.

Loretta and I share well-wishes for Natira's family, then the two of them chat for a bit while I quietly listen and eat, perfectly happy to just relax while they talk.

Natira inhales sharply, looking like she remembered something important. "Oh! Did you hear about Alita's new team?" She looks at both Loretta and me.

I just shrug disinterestedly and keep eating.

Loretta's face lights up, "What? She got a team already?" Her expression is one of excitement, but her voice carries a note of disappointment. "How did I not hear about this? When did this happen?"

Natira just shrugs, "With how busy everything's been, I only found out about it a few days ago."

"Days?" Loretta nearly yells in surprised disbelief. "How long has she had this team?"

"Apparently about a month now."

"A whole month?" Loretta buries her face in her hands and groans loudly, "Oooh, a whole month! I haven't been able to make it to any of her games and I've missed the news reports." She lets her arms fall to the table as she lays her head face-down on it's surface. Springing back up, she gives me a baleful glare, "How come you didn't say anything? You went into the city just two weeks ago! You had to have seen something, and you know how much I'd want to know about that."

I raise my eyebrows at her and shrug placidly, "Sorry, Kiddo. You know I don't bother with that Motorball stuff." I barely pause my eating.

Loretta's eyebrows come down over her eyes as she gets a pouting look and says with semi-serious irritability, "Yeah, I know. Dirty heathen."

I merely shrug and smile serenely. I've told her I don't follow the sport but the truth is, I actually hate the sport. Reminds me too much of those old Roman gladiatorial games from ancient times. Sure, it's exciting to watch but it's little more than people ripping each other apart for the entertainment of a blood-thirsty mob. The bodies might be fully cybernetic, but I still can't look at it and not think of it as a bloodsport. Considering it's Factory-sanctioned it's no doubt a futuristic version of Rome's 'bread and circuses' to placate the masses.

Natira is much more sanguin about my disinterest in the sport. She leans over her plate and says to Loretta, "Even with how fast she tore through Third League, I just didn't think it would happen so soon."

Loretta lightly slams a fist on the table, her face contorting slightly in anger, "I can't believe the League Office forced her to restart at the bottom of Third League! They saw her Second League try-out! So what if she went blasting off out of the track, she still wrecked those guys."

I raise an eyebrow at her. "That was just months ago. She's worked her way back up already?" I may not follow the sport, but Loretta makes sure I keep up to date on some things, whether I want to or not.

"She shouldn't have had to," Loretta says with annoyance.

Natira rests her chin on the back of one hand, "You know, I think it does lend credence to that story going around that she killed Vector. They might have dropped her to Third League in retaliation."

"Yeah, well that fucker deserved it, from what I hear." Loretta's expression and voice both convey disgust.

I finish the last of the food on my plate and ask, "What'd Vector do?" I don't know a lot about this fellow, other than he practically ran Motorball and had a great deal of power and influence in a city I stay as far away from as possible. And he's apparently dead now.

Loretta and Natira both look at me in disbelief, obviously surprised at my ignorance. Despite a twinge of embarrassment, I look back at them patiently.

Natira leans closer to me, "While there's a lot of rumors flying around, none of it's really been substantiated. I'm surprised you haven't heard 'em? From what's going around, she killed Vector after finding out he was running a scam that got someone she loved killed."

Being less-than-surprised to learn of dangerous corruption in this place, I ask, "What kind of scam was this guy running?"

Natira's eyes widen slightly and the corners of her mouth turn down as she says, "They say it was some kind of organ harvesting. He'd trick people into thinking he could send them to Zalem if they paid him a bunch of money. Once they did, he'd have them broken down into parts and sold off."

I shrug slightly, tipping my head to one side, "Well, if that's true, sounds like she might be a bigger deal than I thought." Considering what passes for law and order in Iron City as well as the corruption, it's not hard for me to believe there was something shady as hell going on. It's like the wild west around here, only without the guns. Zalem made sure to outlaw those on pain of death hundreds of years ago. No doubt in order to ensure no one could challenge their strangle-hold on Iron City and it's effectively-captive work force.

Loretta jumps on that, "That's what I keep telling you! She climbed through the ranks almost as fast as Jashugan, at times maybe a bit faster. She's also a registered hunter-warrior on top of being a star Motorball paladin. People say she's helped make the city safer, going after bounties the other hunter's won't bother with."

I'm still skeptical. "So, people think she's some kind of hero?"

"Well, yeah!" Loretta stares at me in disbelief, "Don't tell me, after hearing all that, you don't think so."

I exhale loudly through my nose. "In all my years, I've learned that if something sounds too good to be true, it probably is. In all likelihood, she's just as bad, if not worse than this Vector."

Loretta rolls her eyes, her voice heavy with annoyance, "Your just being overly cynical." I've seen her get a lot hotter under the collar if anyone dissed her idol, but she doesn't seem to be as bothered when I do it.

My only response is a disinterested shrug. Remembering Zee's comment about Alita, I decide to ask, "I heard that she trashed a Factory building and took down a bunch of centurions. Think there's any truth to that?"

Natira's the first to answer after a short thoughtful, silence, "Probably as much as any of the other rumors. I guess it's up to you if you want to believe it or not."

I spread my hands in a sort of shrug, "Well, considering what I know about the Factory's response to people wrecking their stuff, I'd think there'd be Centurions filling the city streets with hot lead if someone actually did that."

Natira nods thoughfully at that.

Loretta shrugs it off, "Maybe she scared the hell out of 'em enough they backed off before losing more of their 'stuff'."

Natira raises an eyebrow at that, clearly unconvinced.

I share Natira's sentiment, "Sounds like a bit of a stretch."

"Maybe," Loretta allows, "but I'm still going with the 'hero' conclusion." She glances over at the clock on the wall, "Well, I gotta get going. Dad needs some help with the paperwork. Fun!" She heads off with a smile, patting me on the shoulder and giving a quick wave to Natira as she heads out.

"She always seems so upbeat," Natira comments.

I glance over my shoulder in the direction of Loretta's exit. "Yeah, she's a good kid." I take a deep breath and collect my plate. "Well, afraid I gotta head off as well."

Her features show mild disappointment. "What, already?"

I sigh, feeling rather badly about leaving so abruptly. "I'm afraid so." I get up from my chair.

"Well, okay then. Have a good night."

"You too." I leave with a small wave and dump my dishes in the bin before heading towards my room. I really enjoyed talking with her, but my growing attraction to her and my surreal circumstances are making me uncomfortable.

I enter my studio-apartment-sized room and close the door behind me glad to be alone for a while. Axel is no doubt out hanging with friends as they celebrate another farmhand's birthday, or something. Without turning a light on I sit down on my bed and remove my glasses before rubbing my hands over my face. Holding my head in my hands I wonder what the hell am I doing here?

That visit with Natira and Loretta does little to make me feel better. Quite the opposite, it just highlights how alone I am. Feelings of loneliness and isolation, always constant, increase in intensity and I feel pulled under a tide of heartache and pain. I fight off the forming tears but the longing to be back in my world with Vanessa wins out and I bury my face in my hands, breaking down in quiet sobs. After a while, the wave of heartache and loss subsides and I'm able to pull myself together. I get my toothbrush out of my footlocker, go into the bathroom and turn on the light. I clean up and brush my teeth without looking at myself in the mirror.

After that I manage to settle down to read an old book Henry loaned me, trying to unwind. I get through a few chapters before fatigue catches up to me and I settle into bed early.

-I'm in our apartment in Washington state, packing up more of our things. The three of us have lived here for a couple years now, Vanessa, her youngest son Brian, and me. Her work as a nurse, plus my veteran's disability allowed us a comfortable life here, as well as giving us the ability to save up to get a nice house in a quiet, wooded area. I get a call from her to come over. She had a couple days off and had decided to start early on getting the place set up to move in. That and she wanted us to have a little time just to ourselves in the new place.

So, I let Brian know what's going on and he assures me he'll keep an eye on things. He's recently turned eighteen and is still getting his footing after therapy to help him deal with the mental and emotional scars of an abusive father. I get together a little duffel with some clothes, freeze-dried camping food that was left over from a previous camping trip for some quick and easy meals (money is still a little tight), and add a few other items that might be needed for a couple days stay. Then I hop in my pickup and head off with a wave 'goodbye' to Brian.

I'm driving down the quiet country road towards Vanessa, the sun shining in a beautiful blue sky, listening to some of my favorite music on the stereo. On my way to help settle into what will be our new home. With no warning at all, there's a blinding white flash of light and everything goes dark. At first I'm too stunned to do much except try to keep my truck going straight. I finally think to hit the brakes but end up crashing the truck into something with a good deal of give. There's the sound of wood breaking and metal crumpling as the truck comes to a stop. The engine stalls and dies. I smack my forehead on the steering wheel, but escape with only a minor cut and some bruises.

I sit in the deafening silence for a moment wondering what the hell just happened before recovering enough presence of mind to turn on the headlights. In front of me, bent and broken from the truck slamming into them, are a bunch of thin, bamboo-like trees. I get out to check the damage with a flashlight and find that the underside of my truck has hit a small boulder, breaking the driver's side front axle. There's no way I'll be able to drive out of here. Looking upward, I see a star-filled night where there'd been a sunny, blue sky. Panick begins to grip me.-

I gasp for air and sit partly upright in bed. Letting out a breath, I lay back down, relieved. That damned dream again, though it's more like a memory. Some part of my mind keeps reliving it over and over again. I lay there staring up at the ceiling lit by the pale blue glow from the lampposts outside coming through the room's one windown across from me. Homesickness sweeps over me unexpectedly. I haven't felt that in several months, but I guess today's different.

'One-year anniversary', I muse to myself. 'Three-hundred and sixty-five days since the incident.' An entire year that I've been working on Henry's farm. To this day, I have no idea what it was or how it happened. I've been looking for a way home ever since. I've just about given up hope of ever finding one. I've just about given up hope, period.

When I'd first stumbled onto this place I was in dire need of food and shelter. Henry was in dire need of workers he could count on. Seems he'd ended up with a few that were worse trouble-makers than he'd counted on. One of them tried to force himself on his daughter, Loretta. That had been the last straw. Regardless of how dire the financial straits were for the farm, Henry ran off the whole lot of trouble-makers. Being the farthest-flung of the little farms on the outskirts of Zalem's tightly-controlled territory, his was the first one I ran into as I followed the road I'd encountered after leaving the jungle behind.

One corner of my mouth turns up in a faint smile as I remember my first run-in with Henry. Me, standing on the road, wondering if I should head up the farm's main driveway to ask for desperately-needed work. Suddenly seeing a trio of haggard and roughed-up-looking guys, one of whom had obviously been severely beaten. Right behind them, carrying a shovel in each powerful cybernetic hand, was Henry. One of the shovels had a bent blade, like he'd tried to chop through something that didn't give. He was red in the face and furious-looking. I watched as he ran those three off, then I just stood there like an idiot.

Henry watched them head off down the road for a bit, huffin' and puffin'. He abruptly turned and pointed one of those shovels at me, still red in the face. 'You!' he'd called out.

I remember thinking, 'Oh shit! I'm next!' I could only stand there staring at this cyborg on the other side of the road, as the next thought to hit me was, 'Is this guy a fucking cyborg?!' I was stunned. I couldn't believe what I was seeing! He was like something out of a Hollywood movie. Tall, powerfully-built, imposing. A cyborg farmer!

Still pointing a shovel at me like it was some kind of sword, Henry called out, 'You lookin' for work? I got some spots need filled!' Then he turned around and walked back up the driveway towards the farm, leaving me standing there dumbfounded.

Seeing Zalem from the distance was shocking enough. I was sure I'd likely gone off the deep end at that point. My first time seeing that city hanging from it's space elevator, I hid in the jungle for a couple days wondering if any of this was real. But I ate all the food I had with me, and drank all my water. So, there I was, standing on a badly surfaced road while a cyborg farmer was offering me a job in a strange accent.

I looked back and forth between the retreating trio of men he'd just kicked the shit out of with dual-wielded digging spades, and the man who'd done the kicking. A man who'd just offered me a job out of the blue. Feeling a great deal of trepidation, I had followed Henry up the driveway. Turned out to be the best decision I made. It didn't take long to find out he was one of the nicest people you could meet, especially around here. He hired me on the spot, no questions asked, probationary of course. I've actually been pretty happy with how things turned out, as has Henry.

Little farms like this around the outskirts of Factory-run territory are given over to families that can afford to buy the rights to run them. Sort of a 'buy your way to a better life outside the city' sort of thing, I suppose. Sometimes the family lasts for several generations, sometimes only a couple. Then financial hardships often set in and the Factory forcloses on the land, kicking the family and employees off it before putting it up for sale yet again. From what I've seen, I'm pretty much convinced that it's all a scheme designed to give city-folk the hope of buying a better future, a way out of the poverty and despair that consumes too many people. The Factory let's 'em have it for a while, then shuts 'em down and kills their dream so they can draw in another bunch of folks lookin' for a better life. Basically, like the Motorball games, a form of control.

Though not without a more practical purpose. These little farms do help feed Iron City, allowing more of the better quality food from the Factory-run farms to be shipped up to Zalem. Henry and his daughter are first-generation owners of this particular plot of land. They're already having serious trouble, money-wise. I suspect the Factory is putting the screws to Henry and his daughter behind the scenes. I'm pretty sure Henry suspects the same. But still, they fight on, trying to keep what they've come to think of as theirs. Something they've poured their blood, sweat and tears into making work. After getting to know them better, I've vowed to do what I can to help the two of them keep their home and livelihood while I'm here.

I glance over at the little clock on the tiny nightstand next to my bed. Just about time to get up anyway. I throw back the thin covers and heave myself up to a sitting position, wondering if I should do something to mark my first, full year in this place. A pang of despair makes me think better of that. No offense to the Sheffields, but I can't stomach the thought that this is where I'll spend the rest of my life. I need to get home. I need to get back to Vanessa and the kids. I can't stay here.

The pain of developing arthritis stiffens the joints of the last two finger on each hand, as well as my knees. While it's not all that bad yet, I still groan under my breath as I bend my knees to put my feet down on the cool floor and work my hands to limber up the fingers and work the pain out.

"Ugh, is it morning already?" I hear from the other bed with that light spanish accent, followed by a quiet groan.

I glance over at my roommate, Axel as I pick up my black wire-framed glasses off the nightstand and put them on. He looks at me with one eye screwed shut and the other squinting in the low light.

"'Fraid so," I tell him wearily. "You want the bathroom first?"

"Nah, man. You go ahead. I just need to lay here for a bit." Axel pulls the thin covers over his head and turns his back to the light.

Quietly exhaling a deep breath, I get up, dressed only in shorts. With the belated realization that I forgot to do laundry yesterday, I get dressed in the same clothes I wore the previous day. I unlock the footlocker each of us has at the foot of our beds and pull out the needed toiletries, among them a bladed razor I purchased on my first trip into Iron City. For some reason, even after adapting the plug to the Farm's outlets, I can't get my electric razor to work. The current used is pretty much the same, from what I understand, so I'm not sure what the problem could be.

I get into the bathroom, shut the door and go through my morning routine. My image in the mirror shows dark circles forming under deep-set, soft blue eyes. Eyebrows that have gone mostly white come together as I focus momentarily on the weariness that seems to be growing more visible as the days pass. Insomnia is becoming more and more of a problem as time passes and my depression becomes worse. I quietly sigh and shake my head, 'Nothin' I can really do about that.'

I had packed my medication for what was supposed to be an overnight stay at our new house. After rationing them, they ran out nine months ago. There's nowhere I can go to get more, no Veteran's Administration, no psychologists, nothing. I'm on my own, dealing with an ever-worsening mental illness that's nearly driven me to suicide more than once in my younger years. My only defense now, is prior experience. In this kind of environment, I have no idea if that's going to be enough.

I strip down, hop in the shower and go through a quick wash. After that I try to dry off as quickly as possible, floofing my towel through short-cut, salt-and-pepper hair that's gone more white at the temples. Then I'm dressed again and back out, so Axel can get his turn before the breakfast bell rings.

"All yours," I say as I head over to my footlocker.

Axel merely rubs his face with one hand and grunts as he heads into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

After putting my things away I pause mid-motion to closing the lid. My eyes are drawn to the deep brown corner of my wallet lying on the bottom, partly obscured by the partitioned tray that fills half the top part of the locker. I glance at the bathroom door, waiting for the sound of the shower. Once I'm sure Axel is going to be a few minutes, I pick up my wallet and open it. My eyes carefully go over things I've spent the last several months trying not to think about as I've focused on making it through each day, praying for some way back home.

Like something slithering around in the dark corners of my mind, my illness whispers to me, filling my mind with darker thoughts, 'You just disappeared one day. Did she move on? Was she left heart-broken and alone, wondering what happened to you? Maybe she never forgave you? Maybe she spent the last years of her life hating you?'

Knowing her, it's unlikely she'd hated me, but the thought of her left alone like that is almost too much to bear. I try not to think about what the days following my disappearance must have been like for her and the kids. They were certainly a nightmare for me.

Almost of their own accord, my fingers dig into the wallet, find the small picture of her and pull it out. I look down at the tiny portrait. Curly black hair hanging down past her shoulders, framing a face of olive complexion, smiling up at me. Her smile would light up her whole face, and she almost never passed up a chance to make a bad pun. Her sense of humor could be as weird and off-the-wall as mine at times. The two of us often found things funny that others saw as either childish, or just 'meh'.

As she often said of her own sense of humor, 'Not a mature audience.' This was often said while giggling at a fart joke. Seeing her face brings a sudden sting of pain knotting up in the middle of my chest, and I feel my eyes tear up.

I pull out the three other little pictures; Her daughter Alanna, her oldest. David, her older son. Brian, her second son and youngest child. She had them while married to a man who become increasingly abusive as the years passed, before finally divorcing him. He disappeared after that, going off with his new girlfriend. He wasn't missed.

My gaze moves across all four pictures. I miss them all, but my eyes always come back to her. The half of me that was torn away.

I hear the shower shut off and quickly regain my composure, wiping away the tears and tossing the wallet back into the footlocker before shutting and securing it. I finish getting my boots on as Axel comes out of the bathroom. I glance out the window and see the first rays of sunlight peeking over the horizon. Breakfast will be called soon.

I look over at Axel, water still dripping from his dark skin as he puts his shirt on all bleary-eyed. I notice that his right arm, a stream-lined cybernetic with unusual designs painted across much of it's surface, has a fancy new decal on the bicep. Once, a while ago, he told me that his original arm had been lost in an accident at one of the larger Factory farms. He decided to look for a safer work environment after that, even if the pay was worse.

"I take it you had a good time last night?" I ask, putting on a moderately cheerful tone.

"Oh, yeah," he says, sounding much more alert. "It was pretty good, you should've come. Might've had some fun yourself," he says in a slightly teasing tone.

If it weren't for the help I've given people around here, I'd probably be considered somehow elitist or something for not hanging out with the others that much.

"Maybe next time. I'm not big on all that social stuff," I shrug slightly as I stand up. "Maybe some day."

Axel sits down on his bed and starts putting his boots on. He squints up at me, "Well, there were one or two ladies there that asked after you." He smiles at that before turning his attention more fully to his laces.

I chuckle as I grab my old field jacket off the coat hook by my bed. "Is that so? Worried about whether they'd have to dodge me, maybe?"

The jacket is one of those real old ones, solid olive drab. It still has my old unit patch on it which I managed to completely overlook until one day someone asked about it. My anxiety caused me to nearly fumble a plausible explanation.

Axel glances down as he shifts to his other boot, "Nah, seriously. I think they might actually have an interest, yeah?"

I try to come up with some smart-ass comeback, but just end up shrugging awkwardly, "Yeah, well, no accounting for taste. I'm sure they met someone more interesting, anyway." I head for the door, "See ya outside."

After breakfast, we're split into small teams again and assigned various tasks. I am, once again, assigned to the irrigation system with Zee. The day goes by in a surprisingly pleasant manner. Once Zee stops talking about his love life, and it's frustrations, his stories about working construction in Iron City turn out to be both entertaining and informative. Both the time and the work pass quickly.

That evening, I sit down for dinner and Natira joins me. It's nice, if a bit awkward. She asks questions about my past, while I keep dodging the questions. It becomes obvious by the end of dinner that she's gotten at least a little frustrated at that. There's no way I can tell her I came out of the jungle a year ago after crashing my truck into a bunch of trees. Or that I'm from hundreds of years in the past, though my old life is starting to feel like some kind of dream. Despite having been able to make a few trips back out to my truck, I'm starting to wonder how much of my life before a year ago really happened.

We part ways with a pleasant 'good night' as I decide to turn in early again. Natira's friendly smile stays with me until sleep catches up finally.