The Terran

"Hey, I saw your photo in the paper...you’re him, you’re the guy, aren’t you? You're one of the four survivors of the San Diego Incident, right? I heard about that, man, that’s too bad. To think people can act that way is just scary, you know? I guess I don’t need to be telling you."

A man sits on the bench in rail station. What town is this, he wonders, and how soon until he arrives at Ho Chi Minh City? There were people everywhere, mothers nursing children, fathers protecting their possessions, and railroad personnel shouting out information on train times and organizing the preliminary phases of boarding. He was used to the public recognizing him these days, ever since his face went viral in the papers and on the net. His lips smile falsely as the civilian continued with his inquiries, nodding here and there when it felt right but never saying a word. His mind was fixed on Ho Chi Minh city. What will he say when he speaks to the Prime Minister?

"So how’d you get here, man?" the civilian asked, "I heard the ocean routes ceased back in June?"

"I’m on my way to Ho Chi Minh city, waiting for my train," the man responded, "how about you?"

"No way, that’s where I was going. My sister just moved there after people out in Dresmok started getting sick. She made it out alright, but I can’t help and think that maybe Lucy is back, you know? What’re you up to?"

"Just business, the usua" –

"Hey, by the way, my name is Tom, Thomas Drake, it’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Tetch."

"Same to you, Mr. Drake. I get the impression this wasn’t a chance meeting."

A green light fires up and shines throughout the vaulted corridor. Crying children, anxious adults and confused adolescents hurry their things, and start heading for the platform.

"I suppose not, we have a lot to talk about," Drake says. "Let’s not dally, man, this station keeps excellent time."

The two of them grab their things. Drake, with a strap wrapped round his neck as he carried his laptop satchel, and a old Detroit Lions duffle bag that was so faded, it was now grey instead of being blue. He rushed toward the boarding station, and Tetch followed in pursuit, carrying only a small black briefcase.

"Two AYYYY! Now boarding Two AYYYY!"

They were looking at a ten minute wait before their car started boarding, and they hadn’t been standing but a minute in line when a woman in her 30’s stuck in her head.

"Howard Tetch? From the San Diego Incident? Well how the hell did you get across the ocean?"

Howard did as he had always done and kept quiet while politely nodding and smiling. This had a two way effect, either they stopped asking out of empathy or anger, either way, they stopped talking quickly. The line slowly withered away as the efficiency of the rail personnel did its work. Soon, Howard and Drake were on the train, in a Cabin off 23C. Once they sat down and ordered a beer, Drake was the first to speak.

"The Prime Minister looks forward to meeting you, man, or at least, that’s what I’ve been told. Says you know a lot about Lucy and that your life was more important than his own – now that’s respect." Drake continued, "Yep, my job is to make sure you arrive to his office without delay, consider me your bodyguard while you are in the fringes of the Yellow Sector, my friend, though not in the traditional sense."

"Should we be expecting trouble?" Tetch asked.

"Not if you keep doing like you’ve been doing, my man. Thing is about Liberated Vietnam is that, even though we didn’t have to face Lucy like the rest of you all did, we still hurt, and that pain still resonates in us. We’re an empathetic people, man, just, we’ve got lives to live, too, you know, and you’d do best to remember that."

A waitress walked in the door with two beers – the emblem of Southeast Railway standing out on her dress coat, a silhouette of a train approaching a red sunrise. "Here’s yours, and here’s yours. All we have for dinner is rice and fish, with a kimchi side. We’ll be around with your food shortly." As she turns to leave she pauses, then turns her head to look at Howard.

"You’re Howard Tetch, aren’t you? How the hell did you get across the Pacific?"

Drake interrupted. "Lady, we’re trying to have a conversation here. Please?"

She bowed apologetically, and left the room.

"Now, where was I," Drake said. "Okay, so how did you get across the sea, man? I’ve been thinking about it since we were in the station, and it’s making me crazy, you know?"

"Well…"

Drake interrupted, "You know what, it’s not my concern and I don’t need to know. But people around here man, they’ve been looking for a way to cross for a long time – they’re calling America the new land of opportunity, if only they could get there."

"You do not want to go there, I assure you, Howard spoke. Only a fragment of their population survived, and they will all be dead in a few decades, it’s only a matter of time."

"Damn, too bad I guess. It really got that bad out there, huh? Lucy did a number on a lot of places I heard, not that I was really around to see any of it."

"I need to speak with the Prime Minister about these things, please." Howard said.

"No, man, that’s fine. Don’t mind me, my mother always told me I was too curious for my own good. We’ll see the Prime Minister soon, my man, the trip only takes ten hours. If I may ask one question of you though, I just want to know. Is your meeting about Lucy, is she really back?"

Howard stares at Drake. "Lucy isn’t back," he says, "Lucy was never gone."