The sand grew drier the farther he went from the water, until it rose in fine particles like smoke from beneath his feet. Flowing traces had been left on the surface of the land where the waves had once pushed the sand, the spray from long-dried crests frozen into beautiful shapes and curves.
He was surprised when he came to a place where the sand sloped gently upward into a low hill. At the top of this rise, he could see far across the flats in every direction. As he gazed ahead, a violent expression spread across his face and the light of his eyes grew dimmer.
Midway down the other side of the hill, a wide belt of dirty white-colored material covered the ground, extending for a considerable distance before disappearing again into the sea of sand. Beyond, it appeared again, weaving in and out of the sand over and over before reaching the walled city.
He quickened his pace, going down the hill to where the pale swath began. Beneath his feet, the crumbling sand transitioned into a firm, rocklike surface.
He was standing on an immensely wide concrete road. With every gust of wind, thin sheets of sand swept across its flat surface. He wondered where the road came from and where it led. He imagined land vehicles traveling along it and people walking to and fro. Now it lay forgotten, the wind its only traveler, none but the quiet sand seeking passage. Everything else around him—the land and the sky, and even the leaden sea he had left behind—was barren, the kind of barrenness from which no life could ever hope to revive.
Why?
How did this happen?
How did I come to be in this place?
The doubt and confusion that had receded from his newly wakened mind a short while ago now returned with increased urgency, and he had to fight to pull himself back from the abyss of fear.
At last he pressed on down the slope and entered a wide, shallow valley that ran parallel to the shore, forming a broad band of lowland between the ocean and the strange walled city.
He had never seen a valley like it before. He walked along the bottom for some time, moving slowly. The blowing sand had filled the depression of the valley to half of its original depth. Before him and behind him, sand trickled soundlessly down the sloping sides.
Suddenly, a sensation spread like lightning through his chest—a signal warning of approaching danger. For a moment he stopped, taking stock of his situation. It was clear that somewhere in this valley, somewhere in this wasteland, an enemy was lurking. It was also suddenly clear, as he watched the sand sift into the valley, that it would not be long before the lowland was completely filled, which meant that it had not existed for very long.
He paused again, still as a stone. Ahead of him, the valley ended at a tall mound of sand. The wind that blew down the valley collided with the mound, whirling up its slope, whistling as it rose. In silhouette the mound formed a mighty arc, and from its very center a complicated framework of some kind extended upward a considerable distance.
Slowly, he approached the base of the mound.
Two large cylinders emerged at an angle from the sand, extending down into the ground as though supporting the sandy mass above them.
It was now apparent that what he had at first thought was a mound of sand was instead a domed object nearly one hundred meters in height. He guessed that it was actually a sphere, half of which was buried beneath the drifts. Though it might have once been burnished to a mirrored finish, it was now scorched and pitted like a sand-scoured boulder.
He stared at it for a long time, understanding intuitively what this looming object was: a massive spacecraft.
The long, shallow valley through which he had just walked was the path the huge craft had left in the earth as it slid to a fiery stop upon landing.
He approached until he was standing in the shadow of the spacecraft’s hull, the gray curve hanging over him like a part of the sky.
An icy chill came over him—my enemy is here!
His enemy had known he would be coming and had sent searchers all the way here to find him. The immediacy of the threat only proved his enemy’s power.
So where is my enemy now?
He steadied his breathing, trying to hold back the chill that spread through his heart.
My enemy—
My enemy—
Then, suddenly, he shook his head and let his shoulders drop. The breath left his chest and he looked around furtively, like a timid beast.
What is an enemy?
Why do I fear this?
He worried that he might be going mad. Everything he had experienced since awakening ran together, blurring incomprehensibly. He sensed that he had been asleep for a very long time, yet he remembered nothing of the time before he slept. Yet something was now pushing him toward the walled city that sat like a shadow at the edge of the vast flats. This he knew with a disturbing clarity at the core of his being. He turned dark eyes out across the spreading sea of sand, yet found nothing there to console him.
What did I expect? he asked himself.
If I want to go to the city it must be because I am meant to go there. And if I sense an enemy it must mean my enemy is near.
Something was telling him these things, giving him information—controlling him with suggestions that were difficult to resist. He searched the gray lands and sky, his heart closed tightly as rock.
Where is this place? When is this place?
There was so much he wanted to know, yet nothing offered any answers. Again, an icy chill spread from his spine through his chest. It was soundless, painless, and faded in an instant, leaving only an awareness of impending peril in its wake.
He began to move again, slowly, staggering.
First, he would find his enemy’s whereabouts. His sense of danger had grown considerably. He looked around for something that might reveal to him his enemy’s form.