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This fanfiction article, DT 2021: By The Stone, was written by Distant Tide. Please do not edit this fiction without the writer's permission. |
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"A Possible Future" | >>> Plague Booth |
Andra trekked up the tall hills that surrounded the AltheaCorp valley estate; Furthest Point’s star – Bouvet – glowed brilliant in the blue afternoon sky. Today’s brisk but warm winter air eased her skin against the stingy pores preparing to let loose sweat under the relative workout.
By no means was Andra out of shape after spending almost every day since 2553 participating in something violent; rather she added an unnecessary load to herself as she always did on days like these. Her old Helljumper MJOLNIR helmet crooked beneath her armpit, an M395 strapped across her back, a fair-sized military fanny pack resting on her hips. The gear weighed down on her as she attacked the uneven, forty-degree inclines that made these semi-tropical and evergreen outcroppings more like mountainsides than gentle slopes.
She sought this burdened challenge as she was taught – always try to make an activity into something more. ‘Twice the irritation, twice the reward’, Joshua would say.
Plus, she was making up for lost workouts – two weeks without a visit to the estate for ‘college’, believe it or not. After more than several lifetimes’ excitement playing soldier for Ryder Kedar, Simon-G294, and Shinsu ‘Refum against the Created, she needed a break. A long break.
So, Andra-D054 turned to the quieter life of Andra Kearsarge, and went to school for contemporary Colonial Literature. Oh, and she worked the day as an electrician – sort of.
A year or even a lifetime ago, she would balk at a life like this. But Andra changed, the gung-ho child soldier of yester life had no say here. Rather too much around Andra changed, so she became someone else as well.
It’s not like she forgot or denied her past as a Spartan supersoldier, but nobody but those in this valley knew of Andra-D054. To the residents of Furthest Point’s only city, she was the adopted daughter of a recent refugee-immigrant couple that ran a space communications start-up. Andra Kearsarge could speak English, Russian, build telecom towers, fly drones, and hunt wild game with her ‘sixth sense’.
Andra Kearsarge was extraordinary, but she wasn’t a savior of humanity. Andra Kearsarge was just another girl.
“Hey Joshua, this is what you would’ve liked right? Seem like a nice place to retirement?”
She pulled herself around a final bend and rose atop a flat limestone outcrop under shade and soft light. Comfortable, homely, her own space. A carved stone sat at the edge of the cliff, waiting for Andra. The stone’s base appeared molded to the ground – the work of superheated plasma.
A high breeze echoed back towards Andra, welcoming her back to the perch. Crossing into the open, the clearing revealed eight kilometers of forests and foothills that encompassed the private property. Her property. To the left, Goldcrest Bay, and the city of Ragged Ass Road across the water, glowed back at her.
“I bet you love it here, Joshua.”
Andra unhooked her rifle sling and set the M395 against the carved stone.
“We learned about Baig’s Everyman in class today, last meeting of term too. I think you would’ve liked the book. Hell, who am I kidding? You probably read it years ago, even if it was near impossible to find in UNSC networks. You had your ways.”
Andra went to sit down, resting her Helljumper helmet in her lap and swung her legs out over the cliffside.
“Baig essentially talked of ‘true’ freedom; of needing to take it for yourself. But also, that true freedom comes from being able to go anywhere, do anything, be who you want to be. It’s kind of inspiring… The teacher called him that, but also naïve. I kind of agree – but I think you said something similar about me and my team all those years back too.”
She chuckled to herself and shook up her longer mane of hair as wind forced it into her eyes.
“Merlin especially. I know I’ve remarked about it before – but I think I get why you didn’t like Merlin. He’s no troublemaker, but he draws trouble to himself. A ‘bad luck charm’ indeed. It’s been six months since he left, I think. Maybe more. Five months of real sleep. Whatever monster he woke up in that Silent Garden, he’s still out there trying to fix it.”
Andra lightly rubbed around her neck, the sensation of an old wound.
“You know, I told him the words during the Silent Garden race, and again before he left. Those three little worlds – but since he left, I’ve missed his presence less. Every day a little less.”
Andra’s second chuckle turned a wistful, borderline-frustrated tone. Empty-feeling.
”’I love you’ are strong words, but they lack meaning if said at the wrong time. To me, they might even have more meaning when they go unsaid.”
A pregnant pause carried the day.
“I should have killed Amber and cleaved your armor from her body. At least I’d have more than a rock to remember you by. Even the helmet would’ve been fine. Really what I’m getting at is – I miss you Joshua. I miss being a Spartan but I miss it because you taught me how to be one, and then taught me how to be me. You know Hera told me you Gammas had your own hidden shrine to fallen Spartans? Refused to tell me where. She’s still a bitch; last I saw her. She treats your memory like shit.”
Andra reached for the rock and ran her fingers over the engraved ‘G024’.
“I miss you Josh. And the three words, I’m sorry I never said them. I hope you understand someone at least meant it for you. I hope you’re doing well in ‘Heaven’, as Cassandra would say.”
Cold air whistled through the cliffside clearing. No words were said for a long time.