Earth Aggregate

An Earth Aggregate™ rocket, emblazoned with the multicolor company logo, approached from the troposphere. It clashed with the surrounding decay like a rogue billboard clattering through a dust storm; a sort of hellfire spat out from the jet boosters as it neared a debris ridden landing pad. This space port was technically abandoned, but corporations often used derelict facilities for their own purposes. An eleven foot high electric fence surrounded the perimeter, and beyond that was a city submerged in entropic fallout. Buildings slumped over, their walls eaten by decades of harsh winds, holey like Swiss cheese from erosion.

A reflective ramp lolled out from the ship's cabin. A figure clad in immense steel armor stepped out first, carrying a high caliber rifle. Following the bodyguard was an elderly, curly-bearded man with mechanical legs. He surveyed the wastes disapprovingly, strapping an opaque respirator to his face and grunting something inaudible to his travelling companions. A lanky young woman was third, her hair salty blonde and almost colorless. Her limbs were thin and birdlike.

“Put your mask on, Vivian. The air here is dirty.” This time the old man spoke up, glaring impatiently. Vivian, with a sheepish smile, strapped on a respirator, but not before catching a whiff of the tainted, sulfuric air.

Unbeknownst to the Martians, they were being watched. In concrete colored camouflage, Earth dwellers spied from vantage points among the wreckage. Dressed in layers of tattered clothing, they used telescopes constructed from mirror shards and hollow canisters. Among them was a woman named Dana, who remarked silently upon the grotesque agent of advertising who'd decided to visit. Her face was remarkably freckled and olive toned.

After briefly passing through a spaceport building, the Martians embarked down a tattered highway.

“You know I don’t like bringing you here, but it’s important you witness what we do. I want you to be invested once I’m out of the picture.” The old man’s words were barely audible over the grating ambient drone of the weather. “We’ll make it brief.”

“I don't need any convincing, Dad.” She paused, scanning her surroundings. “I’ve always wanted to come to Earth. But I had no idea what state it was in!”

“This is what is reaped from war. Theirs was more sophisticated than the ones that came before: it was not fought over land, policy, or ideology, but over the allocation of last privileges."

“How come you never told me what Earth was really like?”

“Because. It’s better to orient ourselves toward the future, sweetie.” This statement was said saccharinely yet gruff. “The blasting sight is just up ahead, there you can see our surveying process firsthand.”

They had arrived at a vast underpass utilized for protection by past Earth dwellers. There was a village turned rustic ghost town, arranged from sheet metal and bolts. Here, the sound of the wind was muted, replaced by an eerie pseudo silence.

Meanwhile, the Earth dwellers maneuvered handily between roofs of leaning towers, using thrown grappling hooks and climbing cleats to scale melting walls. They tracked the triad, nervously conjecting about their intentions.

Vivian tried to peer through a pawn shop’s grime encrusted windows, just one of several store fronts built under the vast underpass. This too was likely commandeered as shelter, but she could just make out the silhouettes of various old world items within.

“Come on, we’re not here to explore. You can do that on your own time.” Vivian’s father said, without stopping. Reluctantly, she continued on.

The Earth dwellers watched as the Martians exited the underpass, headed toward the emaciated remains of a park. They exchanged melancholic glances, suspicions essentially confirmed.

“Another blasting company. Can’t say I’m surprised.” One man said, his eyes red and puffy.

“We’d be better off just forgetting about an evac.” A teenage girl said, kicking a small rock so that it tumbled down the incline of their concrete mountaintop.

“I bet we all could get the big guy, if we’re smart about it. Take the woman hostage. That’d force them to listen.” An older man said, his face haggard with deep set wrinkles. He was instinctively rubbing the handle of a bowie knife at his hip.

Ignoring the discourse, Dana started down the hill. Her clan hissed after her, but she did not stop, nor did she stop for the growing knot in her gut.

"Nature reserves generally have veins of natural minerals beneath them, and are devoid of blockages." The old man said matter-of-factly. They came upon a wrought iron gate, its doors rust-squealing, hanging off their hinges. The park was barren, home only to tree stumps intermingled with stout weeds. A dry creek bed filled with glass shards and snapped syringes snaked the length of the reserve.

They reached a dour hill, which partially blocked out an oppressive orange sun. Vivian observed as the bodyguard withdrew a strange instrument, it looked like a film camera with a sinister metal proboscis instead of a lens. The bodyguard stuck this proboscis into cracked ground, whistling tinnily from within his metal suit. After a minute, a readout flashed on the device's screen, and the bodyguard flashed a gauntleted thumbs up to the old man.

"Positive for iron, sir." He garbled.

"Excellent!" Vivian’s father clapped. "Now we strike the land with cesium beams from our orbiting satellites. The barrage will burrow miles into the ground, and we send the grunts in after to collect the useful bits."

"And this won't hurt anyone on the surface, right?" Vivian asked, eyeing the bodyguard's instrument queasily.

Her father looked at her with exaggerated bemusement. "No one would live on the surface nowadays."

"Right."

He began a jovial conversation with the bodyguard, back turned. Vivian used this opportunity to slink away. Feeling sick to her stomach, she started to run, gazelle-like as she bounded down car clotted streets.

She scanned the underpass village, crouching behind the warped husk of a copper colored sedan, then moved to the pawn shop. The door was locked, so she withdrew a multitool from her bag and unlocked it with the tip of a Martian screwdriver. She entered, heralded by a ghostly creaking of the floorboards.

The pawn shop boasted a menagerie of old world treasures. Antiquated guns, acoustic guitars, dusty surfboards, and boomboxes were among the trove. Vivian tiptoed around, occasionally pocketing an item. As she came across a lovely paperweight containing a coral fragment, the back door groaned open. Vivian scrambled to an shadowy corner and ducked.

Dana navigated silently, holding a torch up to illuminate the room. Her eyes fell on Vivian.

Vivian put her hands up: “I’m sorry, I didn’t think there would be anyone h-here,” She gently removed the pilfered things from her bag, placing them into a neat pile, smiling nervously.

“Yeah, some of us are still alive.” Dana said. “I don’t care if you take this junk. What good would it do us?” She asked.

“Oh. Is there anyone still living in these buildings?”

“There was. ‘Till we realized they weren’t safe from the companies. You think those goons you roll around with are there strictly for protection? No, it's to send a message. All we ever hear from up there is you need just a little more time, a few more deposits of iron, or aluminum, and then the rescue ships will be ready.” Dana exhaled. “They’re never coming. And I just want to hear you admit it.”

Vivian approached tenderly. “I can change that. I’ll inherit Earth Aggregate, then I can lead the charge to save your people. I'm not interested in mining. I want to help you.”

Dana raised an eyebrow. “You want to help me? Then take me with you.”

“I… can’t, that would jeopardize everything. You’d be killed.”

“I don’t care. I’d rather die attempting to escape than remain down here, under the boot.” Dana grabbed Vivian's arm with calloused fingers, “Please. Get me off this planet. I can help you on Mars.”

"If we get caught it could dash any hope of rescue for the other Earth dwellers. Is that what you want?"

"I'm suffering, can’t you see that? Prove to me that you mean it when you say you’re here to help, and I will be your ambassador."

“Listen… you... fine. I think I’ll be able to smuggle you onto the ship, but you’ll need to take this.” Vivian took a heart locket out from her bag. It was palm-sized, cherry red with a black outline, and crafted from two pieces. She snapped the locket in two. “When I touch my half, it’ll send haptic feedback to yours in the pattern of my heartbeat.”

Dana inspected her piece, perplexed.

“It’s just a stupid knickknack from Mars. They’re common gifts. Meet me at the launch site, you’ll have to figure out a way to scale the fence. Once I give you the signal, make sure you’re near the rocket. This is going to be dangerous, are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Then we have no time to waste.” Vivian swiftly departed, reuniting with her father further up the road. He chastised her for her tenacious curiosity.

At the launch pad, two Earth dwellers helped Dana cast a heavy tarp over the fence. They boosted her up as she clambered over, landing catlike on the other side and diving behind whatever sparse cover she could find. She held her breath as the Martians disappeared into their rocket.

Vivian waited until her father was indisposed, and then rushed into the electronics bay. She shorted the camera system, causing it to go offline for a total of five minutes. From there, she ran to the garbage disposal parallel to the engine nozzles. It was a simple chute, separated by air locks into three chambers which were operated from a module next to the hatch. Vivian breathed deep, at the module, and squeezed her half of the heart locket.

Dana’s half began to vibrate with a BPM that climbed past the resting rate. She dashed toward the rocket, looking back one time at her silently cheering clan. A square hatch opened just as the rocket began to take off; the launch pad was heating up from the burning of H-CNG fuel. Dana stared up into the black chute with momentary dismay, before a simple flight chair came sliding down, jamming the final airlock. She threw her grappling hook, latching onto the flight chair, and was lifted alongside the rocket as it parted with the ground.

She was suspended, legs seared from the belching flames below. She swung herself onto the side of the ship, planting her cleats, arms bulging as she forced herself up. Dana grappled over the chair, barely squeezing inside. The flight chair exploded into a rain of plastic chips and the airlock closed behind Dana, leaving her in darkness.

The interior airlock shut automatically, it was on a one minute timer. Vivian stood there, neurotically pushing the ‘open’ button and chewing her fingernails. After what seemed like an eternity, the partition parted again and Vivian peered inside.

“No… what have I done?” She asked herself, faced only with darkness.

She stepped away, sweatily clutching the heart locket while her own heart went icy.

It started vibrating a rapid, frantic heartbeat. A hand shot out, stopping the airlock from closing again. Vivian ran to Dana, pulling her out. Dana wheezed, faceup on the cold spaceship floor, grinning widely despite the burns along her legs. She was helped up and dared to embrace the Martian. Without hesitation, they dashed to Vivian’s room in the cabin, reaching it just as the cameras turned back on.

Dana’s excitement gradually turned to survivor's guilt as she gazed out a plexiglass porthole, darling Earth shrinking before her, and she could swear she caught a final glimpse of her clan’s crescent faces looking to the heavens. Earth, a marvel of life, amid the death throes of what it once was. Vivian placed an assuring hand on Dana’s shoulder, and together they looked away.