rough for comfort. Now, even as he
walked through open fields with short, hard stalks stabbing his
shoes, the night was not dark. Light bubbled up here and there from
lamps on his right that shone on a road and a long wire strung
above it. And in the distance the light was denser, brighter. But
even without the light bubble of the city, he'd have known they
were parked next to civilization. Pieces of plastic dotted the
fields; paper rustled between the dried leaves; here and there a
rusted something clinked under Richard's shoes.
Litter always marked civilization.
Richard walked – trudged, more like it,
plodding along without plan, without strategy, almost randomly – in
the general direction of the light for a few minutes. But after a
little while, his head cleared from the walk, he paused and
squatted down at the corner of the field. He dug around in his
pocket and pulled out his guide. The screen lit up in the shadowy
field like a beacon and he hurriedly poked it a few times before it
dimmed.
Please be close enough...
The networks on this planet were weak, barely
reaching over its own surface. He'd heard of stranded travelers
before – stuck out in Earth's nowhere, out of the reach of the Home
signal and the Earth's networks. The little planet's signal had
flickered in and out as they flew in...
But he wasn't that lost.
After some more poking and prodding, he had
piggybacked onto the Earth's net and set to looking around for
something that could help Grimm. He jabbed the keys of the guide in
increasing frustration. Page after page flipped by. Link after link
after link led him in circles.
It didn't matter.
No one here had what he needed.
No one here had much of anything.
Richard snorted in frustration as he scrolled
through pages of stuff he didn't need. Books. Movies. Songs. Games.
Fucking games! Nothing useful. He was starting to see why
Grimm had told him not to bother.
The Earth's networks had been scrubbed.
Richard threw the guide onto the dried field
where it glowed dully at him. He rested his head in his hands and
took a breath.
So the Earth's networks didn't have what he
needed. He'd find it himself.
The impoverished Earth networks still had some things that were useful, after all: they had maps. Of
everything. And for now, that seemed like the best help Richard
could hope for. So he picked up the guide and poked at it a few
more times until a map glowed on the screen with a cheery "You are
here!"
He studied the mess of streets and buildings
for a few minutes, and then he got up and began to walk again in
the direction of the city lights.
He didn't have far to go.
As the litter beneath his feet got thicker,
civilization got nearer.
**********
H
Richard glared at the blue sign with the
white letter on it. It was the third he'd seen. But a second later
his eyes focused on the space about a hundred yards beyond the "H"
sign, to another sign, bigger and brighter:
Emergency
Richard jogged towards it. In a minute, he
was under the sign. Then a pair of glass doors parted in front of
him and he walked into the hospital.
For a spot labeled "Emergency," it was
weirdly calm. Long lights lined up on the ceiling cast a cheery
glow around paisley couches and a close-cropped carpet. A lady read
a magazine. A girl lay on her side, yawning, swinging one foot over
the side of the couch. Behind a wide desk, a woman filed her nails.
Beside the desk, to its right, some more cheery light spilled out
from a hallway.
Richard walked towards the desk.
Then he caught himself.
Earth was an insular planet, not friendly to
visitors. Or so Richard had heard.
He stood for a moment, just a few feet away
from the desk, one foot hovering in a half-step for a indecisive
moment. No one at the desk looked up. Nobody in the waiting room
paid him any attention as he stood mutely in the middle of the
room. A second later he twisted his course, headed passed the desk
and made it to the hallway beyond. He looked
walked through open fields with short, hard stalks stabbing his
shoes, the night was not dark. Light bubbled up here and there from
lamps on his right that shone on a road and a long wire strung
above it. And in the distance the light was denser, brighter. But
even without the light bubble of the city, he'd have known they
were parked next to civilization. Pieces of plastic dotted the
fields; paper rustled between the dried leaves; here and there a
rusted something clinked under Richard's shoes.
Litter always marked civilization.
Richard walked – trudged, more like it,
plodding along without plan, without strategy, almost randomly – in
the general direction of the light for a few minutes. But after a
little while, his head cleared from the walk, he paused and
squatted down at the corner of the field. He dug around in his
pocket and pulled out his guide. The screen lit up in the shadowy
field like a beacon and he hurriedly poked it a few times before it
dimmed.
Please be close enough...
The networks on this planet were weak, barely
reaching over its own surface. He'd heard of stranded travelers
before – stuck out in Earth's nowhere, out of the reach of the Home
signal and the Earth's networks. The little planet's signal had
flickered in and out as they flew in...
But he wasn't that lost.
After some more poking and prodding, he had
piggybacked onto the Earth's net and set to looking around for
something that could help Grimm. He jabbed the keys of the guide in
increasing frustration. Page after page flipped by. Link after link
after link led him in circles.
It didn't matter.
No one here had what he needed.
No one here had much of anything.
Richard snorted in frustration as he scrolled
through pages of stuff he didn't need. Books. Movies. Songs. Games.
Fucking games! Nothing useful. He was starting to see why
Grimm had told him not to bother.
The Earth's networks had been scrubbed.
Richard threw the guide onto the dried field
where it glowed dully at him. He rested his head in his hands and
took a breath.
So the Earth's networks didn't have what he
needed. He'd find it himself.
The impoverished Earth networks still had some things that were useful, after all: they had maps. Of
everything. And for now, that seemed like the best help Richard
could hope for. So he picked up the guide and poked at it a few
more times until a map glowed on the screen with a cheery "You are
here!"
He studied the mess of streets and buildings
for a few minutes, and then he got up and began to walk again in
the direction of the city lights.
He didn't have far to go.
As the litter beneath his feet got thicker,
civilization got nearer.
**********
H
Richard glared at the blue sign with the
white letter on it. It was the third he'd seen. But a second later
his eyes focused on the space about a hundred yards beyond the "H"
sign, to another sign, bigger and brighter:
Emergency
Richard jogged towards it. In a minute, he
was under the sign. Then a pair of glass doors parted in front of
him and he walked into the hospital.
For a spot labeled "Emergency," it was
weirdly calm. Long lights lined up on the ceiling cast a cheery
glow around paisley couches and a close-cropped carpet. A lady read
a magazine. A girl lay on her side, yawning, swinging one foot over
the side of the couch. Behind a wide desk, a woman filed her nails.
Beside the desk, to its right, some more cheery light spilled out
from a hallway.
Richard walked towards the desk.
Then he caught himself.
Earth was an insular planet, not friendly to
visitors. Or so Richard had heard.
He stood for a moment, just a few feet away
from the desk, one foot hovering in a half-step for a indecisive
moment. No one at the desk looked up. Nobody in the waiting room
paid him any attention as he stood mutely in the middle of the
room. A second later he twisted his course, headed passed the desk
and made it to the hallway beyond. He looked
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