the story: CHAPTER 5

ANONYMOUS JOURNAL

 

THE CALL OF THE GEMINI
January 10, 2041

The Gemini broke through. My hood went black. When I reset my CONTACT a map and instructions flashed in my visor. 

I scribbled it down as fast as I could.

Southern Route 

(Appx 34 hours without rests)

  1. North along the Natih run-off trench at sundown

  2. Shelter in Equipment shed (yellow door) Avoid UV spike

  3. Follow route markers @ sundown

  4. Push above plume (go fast)

  5. Follow trail to waterfall at Injeb point / rendezvous with others

  6. Offer seed rations to the red birds

Artist sketch: Route maps from V2 settlements to Azimuth Lab 

Artist photography: Runaways from V2 settlements en route to Ijneb Point

EN ROUTE
February 10, 2041 

We left the settlement at sundown. No hoods. No protection. 

Ten of us together, quickly over the gates, then low through the beginnings of the freshwater river trench. Keeping to shadow, heading North, and skirting the headlands of the Azimuths. 

We were like a pack of wolves moving silver through the night — quietly and with purpose. We made the foothills just before dawn and hid out in the equipment shed. Gasping for air. 

The deeper we ventured into the mountains the more complicated the trails became. The terrain was unforgiving and we were in unknown territory and lost without technology. 

We pressed on, determined to make it to Ijneb Point and link up with the Gemini.

LOOKING BACK
February 12, 2041

Halfway up the Azimuths, I looked back at the world I had known.

Harsh light chasing its way through the Plume, the sun scratching its way across the arid land below.  I still recall this place as fields and farms.

From a ridge, I can see my old home — a small disaster encampment with yellow plastic roofs in the middle of a bleak landscape.  Plume boiling quietly up from flooded coast to the south.

There is nowhere to go but up. 

There are many small worlds up here that give us hope: cold water running in streams, resilient strips of plants, and careful little flowers bowing in prayer. 

Life calling to life.  

Artist sketch: Plume

Artist sketch: The Red Birds

AZIMUTH MOUNTAINS - GEMINI WATERFALL
February 16, 2041

I

Two people turned back and two died from exposure. Six of us made it to Ijneb point. There were others waiting there too.

The route dead-ended at a waterfall. We drank in cold gulps, washed our burnt skin, and felt the clean air above the Plume.  

We followed the instructions; placed our seed rations out for the red birds.

We waited for a sign. For 3 days, nothing.

II

It was a cold purple dawn in the mountain and I was the only one awake when the cardinal landed. 

I couldn’t find the strength to yell for the others. I silently watched the red bird glide down from the sky, peck at the sunflower seeds, and then flash its red body up a steep, water-slicked ravine. It was as good a sign as any.  

I started to climb, the others urged me to stop, to save my strength. I scraped my knuckles bloody against the wet rocks, but with each handhold, the vertical path began to reveal itself. I kept climbing and others began to follow.

The ascent was long and treacherous. After hours we topped out in a hushed forest atop a cliff—old trees nodding gently towards our arrival. We could hear the Cardinals’ clear song deep in the branches of the forest and hidden in the shadows of a massive boulder, we saw the Azimuth Lab.