TOKYO . . . Did that mean this city was “Tokyo”?
Though the name did not exist anywhere in his memory, it seemed a suitable enough appellation for a place that had prospered in this sector at some point during the thirtieth century.
But why would Tokyo be in ruins? And what year is it now?
Hoping to find an answer in the rubble, he moved on, following an enormous corridor between massive structures.
Suddenly he spotted a shadow flitting at the edge of his field of vision. An instant after he saw it, it disappeared behind a dark wall. His metabolizer was running at full speed now, ready for the lethal attack that was sure to come. His tri-D sensor cells extended an umbrella antenna, seeking to detect the metabolic energy of his enemy, its strength and direction. Nothing . . .
Fear chilled him to the bone. He dropped to the floor, listening for sounds in the levels below while his antenna extended upward toward the high ceiling to listen for the movement of enemies above.
Still nothing.
What could be here, if not my enemy?
Though the movement he’d detected in the desert outside the city gates had surely been hostile, he had as yet found no sign of any enemy within the city’s bounds.
Perhaps they have not invaded this far . . . yet?
He considered the possibility that he had fallen into yet another of his enemy’s traps.
On a world like this, where energy use was at an absolute minimum, it would be impossible to camouflage any large amount of radiation. Even the hydrogen fusion reaction within the sun that lit the sky had dwindled to only a third of its former strength. The natural world had atrophied, its moisture gone, leaving the surface of Earth a cold and barren desert. Animal life had long since vanished, and even the withered remains of forests had disappeared without a trace. Only the wind moved now, occasionally trailing sand in gray clouds. The cycle of energy had been broken, and the planet lacked the strength to nurture anything new.
He was certain that the lurking enemy had by now detected his body’s energy profile. An energy detector could be used to determine a quarry’s whereabouts with greater accuracy than even a wireless directional finder. He would be defenseless if his hidden foe had managed to conceal its own energy emissions and approached undetected.
Moving quickly, he ran to the corner of the wall behind which the dark figure had disappeared. He found a tiny footprint where sand had been kicked up.
This is not my enemy!
Keeping his breath level, he tiptoed toward a crack between two structures behind the wall. It led into a hole of some sort; there the footprints disappeared.
A trap?
He returned again to the corridor, searching for any signs of approach. He sensed that his enemy was already inside the city, moving steadily through the corridors on the bottommost level, heading toward a broken lift. Whoever or whatever it was probably intended to climb up the shaft.
Which meant that at least he still had the advantage of higher ground.
Quietly, he slipped through a hole in the wall. Beyond it he found a spiral passageway that sloped gently upward.
An old beltway.
The small footprints continued up the passage. He followed, coming to a place where a giant shutter—long ago ruined—had been lowered to block the corridor. Electrical conduits and communications lines were tangled along the ceiling, and air-conditioning pipes hung down like strands of hair. He brushed them aside with one hand, leaning to duck beneath them; the pipes clanged into one another with a dry metallic sound. A moment later, they crumbled as though made of nothing more than clay. The sound of their falling made a quiet echo down the corridor.
Ahead of him, the footprints disappeared into a power plant. Other footprints joined them near the entrance, also going in. He entered the plant.
The only illumination within came from clouded orange panels that looked like indicators of some kind. Beneath the dim circle of light they cast huddled several human figures.
He stood still as stone. “Who are you?” he called out after a long hesitation.
One of those in the group gave a quick, sharp cry he could not understand.
The person shouted again, the sound of it hitting him like a physical blow.
Then he felt something switch inside himself—an automatic voice translation system turning on.
“Who are you? Where did you come from?” the person was asking him.
He peered further into the plant but saw no other figures lurking.
“Who are you?” he responded. “Why are you hiding here?”
Even as he spoke, he marveled at his own ability to converse. He had no memory of any time in which he’d exchanged words with another person. Yet his current situation provided no time to consider this mystery.
“We are residents. We live here,” the people said.
“Here? This is your home?” He looked around again at the ruined plant. It seemed highly unlikely that anyone could live here amongst this wreckage and death.
“You live here?” he asked again, worried that they might think him slow for repeating himself.
“Yes. We are residents of this place. Where did you come from?”
He thought it best not to tell the truth in this instance. Nor did he want to waste time explaining anything.
“This is Tokyo, right?” he asked.
“Yes. This is Tokyo. Capital of the Inner Planetary Alliance.”
Something about those words bore the echo of a former glory, long since faded.
“I see,” he said. “So tell me, what is the solar year now?”
As soon as he asked, he feared that it might not have been a wise question.
“The solar year? I believe, yes, it is 3905.”
Inwardly, he breathed a sigh of relief—it seemed that his question hadn’t raised any suspicions.
“Which would mean,” he said half to himself, “that over a thousand years has passed since that engraving was made on the tower.”
“Of what do you speak?” the person asked.
“What caused the city to fall into ruin?” he quickly replied. “Please understand that I mean you no harm. Come here.”
In response, the group huddled even more tightly together.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of. I am—” he was about to tell them that he came from another place, another celestial body, but then he thought better of it. People living in these conditions would only fear him more if they learned he came from another star. “I came from another city to establish communications.”
Eventually, one of the people stepped out from the huddle, wariness burning in his eyes.
“Another city? There is still another city on Earth?” Hope mingled with a deep sadness in his voice.
“There is,” he said, then stopped, fumbling for his next words until he remembered the lead-colored sea. “It lies across the sea.”
“Across the sea!”
With those words, the group split into fourteen individuals. In the dim orange light, they looked dangerously thin and frail. Their height was, on average, roughly a meter and a half. Their arms and legs were thin and long, their shoulders rounded and slumping, their foreheads protruding. They held their hair with thin metal circlets, just above the ears, and they wore light brown skinlike cloth that covered their entire bodies.
Their expressions were unreadable as they gathered to get a closer look at their visitor.
“What is your name?” one asked.
He would have to answer this one. “S-S-Siddhārtha,” he said, dredging the word up from some back corner of his mind.
“See-darth-a?”
“Siddhārtha.”
“Siddhārtha!”
“You know this name?” he asked, worried that he had made a mistake.
“No, not well. Though perhaps I have heard it once . . . somewhere.”
“Are you the leader of these people?”
The man standing closest to him nodded. “I am. We are all that remain of the city. I am Orionae the Elder, formerly of Atlantis,” he added, lifting his tanned, weathered, and wrinkled face to meet Siddhārtha’s eyes. “Siddhārtha, you are.”
“And you are Orionae.”
The two repeated the names, each certain they had heard the other’s before, that they were joined by some painful memory that neither was able to recall.
Perhaps, he thought, this man had simply done as I had—reaching into the back corners of his mind and picking the first word he found. Not that it mattered.
“Tell me, Orionae. How did this great city become ruins?”
Orionae came solemnly to stand before Siddhārtha.