Dust Rustling
Did any survive?
Maintenance accessways were always next to and parallel to public bulkheads. The accessways were accessible through two doors allowing for the ability to traverse between compromised sections of the station without exposing safe ones. The tandem doors worked mechanically ensuring no mistakes could be made in quarantining one section from another.
Roz and Stu patiently waited for Philippe to pry his last boot from the maintenance tunnel. Following the freeing his boots Philippe started hopping up and down and clopping in the hallway as he got his feet back into the footwear.
Floppy feet secured, slightly out of breath, Philippe requested, “Could I impose on you to accompany me in securing Stella?”
With a smile on both their faces Roz and Stu responded, “Why not?”
The visual shift from the architecture of the Borough to the Solarium was not immediate; there was a general consistency from one part of the station to another, but as one got further away from the boundary of the previous section, characteristics of the station would change slightly. Due to the higher economic level of the Solarium decorations of common areas were slightly more embellished. Entrances to private quarters began to take on their own flare, with some corridors revealing a slight competition amongst neighbors.
Stepping out of the maze of corridors the path taken turned into streets as the trio fell under the protection of the micro- atmosphere of the Solarium. External decor of businesses and homes became increasingly elaborate as they traversed the exterior streets of the La’zen.
The height of the buildings extending from the surface of the station and also increased as they progressed. A competition for a better views both celestial and of the La’zen’s garden was evident. Some crafty architects had designed their buildings to curved over the emerald jewel of green vegetation below to ensure buildings in front of them couldn’t grow to obscure the views they had captured. The curved buildings taken from a distance gave impressions that the station was either attempting to swallow or protect the flourishing life beneath its micro- atmosphere.
The eerie silence of the evacuated Solarium was broken sharply by the thunder of a low flying vessel maneuvering just above the tallest spire of this station section. The three lowered their heads in reaction to the abrupt sound above. All turned their faces to observe the intruder.
A debris-drifter cut a wide slow arc across the sky of the La’zen. The ship served one purpose and that was to protect the station from debris and no attempt had been made to make it visually appealing. The front of the ship resembled a massive fist — used to pulverize, push or forcibly change the trajectory of any object. The fist could open in two equal parts to form a crude clamp or claw that could latch onto anything found to be too big for obliteration, or pushed out of harm’s way — allowing it to be towed away.
Puzzled by the debris-drifter’s appearance, Stu unzipped his shoulder bag to watch the light and attached device’s response as he stated, “I guess, it was wrong about there being no danger to the station.”
The light turned amber.
Roz questioned, “Aye, plausible deniability with an amber glow?”
The light swapped to red.
Stu with a half frown, feeling no resolution could be had closed the bag while stating, “Whelp. We outta help with Stella quickly and get back to safety.”
The glow of the bag turned green and then blue as they ran.
Embellished metal and creative architecture gave way to a symphony of green that arched opposite of the structures admiring it. A gentle slope provided terraces of growth that eventually leveled off into a flat plane that had been dubbed the meadow.
The meadow was sectioned off to control the grazing of cattle and allow for grasses to cultivate before entering a rotation of consumption. The plane of the meadow was rectangular on three sides and on the fourth, the side of the greenhouse section, was a circular arc. Both the circular end of the meadow and arch of the slope leading down to it gave the impression of an amphitheater of old.
Reaching the bottom of the greenhouse section, the trio veered off to the right wing of the circular arc. Nearing the end of the half circle they found Stella one terrace up in the middle of a garden.
Stella, indeed, was enjoying a wide selection of plants. There was a collar around her neck attached to a leash of frayed material.
“Stella!” scolded Philippe, “Quel désastre, ça va me ruiner! Get out of the garden!”
Stella shifted not out of acknowledgement of Philippe, but instead, started pawing a hoof on the ground to unearth a turnip. Successfully harvesting her vegetation of choice Stella crunched it down in defiance.
Philippe, furious, grabbed and shouldered the leash attached to Stella. In a steady march Philippe started off in the direction of the cattle. The remaining leash quickly reached its end, went taught, yanked on Philippe’s shoulder and caused the ridiculous footwear to loose grip resulting with Philippe on his back.
Looking down on him more out of curiosity, than for concern, Stella swung her uninterested head towards another root.
Giggling at the ridiculousness of the situation Roz bent down and plucked a few roots herself and fed one to Stella. The cow smiled and crunched happily.
Using her supply of roots, Roz led Stella to the first gate of the meadow.
Philippe both muddy and red in frustration, muttered as he followed, “Je jette l'éponge!”
Almost immediately, as if on queue to Stella’s return, lights and sirens start directing all the cattle into pens at the far end of the meadow. The automated systems detected the rogue bovine and pressed Stella through the extra series of gates needed to catch up with the rest of the herd.
Only a moment of silence and inactivity was had before the trio’s attention was brought back to the growl of the engines of a debris-drifter above. A massive extended claw descended towards the station. The ship accelerated as it plunged at the Solarium. What seemed to be an irrational choice from the pilot of the ship resulted in the drifter embedding itself around the pens that housed the cattle.
What could have caused the drifter to crash there?, thought Roz.
As if in response to her thoughts, the engines of the debris-drifter popped, paused and then reverse thrusters ignited. Powerful engines tugged at the station in what seemed to be a futile attempt to move the La’zen. Tension built and then the cracking of steel, separating of rivets could be heard beneath the steady push of the engines.
The rumble of the debris-drifter’s engines then combined with the calamity of Solarium’s cattle pen’s ripping free. The sudden release of tension resulted in engines of the drifter to rapidly accelerate into the La’zen’s sky.
The whiteness of their eyes fully visible, the three watched in shock. Philippe’s hands slapped to his face and he exhaled at the same moment the debris-drifter launched off with its prize. Philippe’s lips mouthed, “Stella!”, in astonishment, but he was not heard over the roar of the debris-drifter’s assault on the station.
The rush of the departure of the debris-drifter pulled the micro- atmosphere with it. The Solarium quickly depleted of oxygen and rendered the trio unconscious.
umm.. no.
Not bad, too cartoony
Still would like something a bit more real.
Nope… next.
I liked it, but wanted a different scene …
Too much claw
I like it, but I pressed for more …
