The Reconnaissance Clock

CHAPTER 1 SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST

Flel loaded up his pack with supplies for the journey to the Godhand. He only packed as his father instructed: Only what was necessary. This was how they would take the trip together previously. He had an old backpack that his father handed down to him. It was worn and abused, but he felt it sentimental to hold on to it, plus it was larger than any of the packs being sold at the Godhand. He poured all of the water he had left into a flask and put on his father's boots. His hair was dark and it covered some of his face and he pushed it out of the way of his eyes. He had become fatigued lately, not because of work, but because he had no reason to go outside anymore. But now there was a reason, but he wondered if it were worth the cost. They were extremely low on supplies. "Kvasir's summer is no longer a summer." Flel somewhat whined to his father. Flel was young, in his twenties still and tall. He had become skinnier in the last couple of years. His father was not able to make as many trips to the Godhand as he used to. His father was Croy and had lived all of his life in the faction quarters. Croy replied "You are right about that... after this month has passed, I probably will no longer leave the encampment.". Flel could hear the wind pounding the walls around him in every direction. This was normal during this time of the year, although it had been worse during this season than ever before. His father saying this created a fear like no other for him. He did not want to go to the GodHand alone. The encampment was sturdy but old and was constructed from an abandoned forerunner ship fleet. Wind turbines were used to turn handmade electric generators that were rigged up by the forerunners inhabiting each faction. Flel was a forerunner at his heart and so was his family before him. His father was one of the wind energy engineers before he developed a blood disease and retired.

Daily, Flel studied a weathered passed down copy of the Encyclopedia of Logical Thinking Forerunners and hoped to one day find a meaning and class of his own amongst the many forerunners in his faction. The hope to one day become a useful member of his faction on this cold planet was his daily motivation. His father, Croy, had not aged well. His face was weathered like leather and his legs could no longer transport him from the encampment to the Godhand. The blood disease he had developed had come on slowly and it was not apparent what brought it on but it was likely from mining beneath the faction for minerals to sell for coin at the Godhand. His father struggled to make money as an engineer within the faction and had to look for alternative ways to make enough money to feed the family. It was not as difficult now that his wife, Khatra, was gone though.

Flel, himself, was not very healthy either, likely for the same reason, but taking care of his father gave him a nervous energy that was visible to others. Lately, Croy had become fatigued from suffering from stomach ulcers and his supply of medication had been depleted. He was learning to live without it now. Flel's mother, Khatra, was deceased three years prior to this day due to unhealthy lungs and too little oxygen on Kvasir. It was near her death when she, as well, had increasingly bad stomach ulcers. Kvasir was not kind to the elderly and she died in a way that was kinder than most ways to die here. The day she collapsed in the frozen terrain outside of the encampment, a mob of transhumants arrived and took her body away in a cryotube. Cryotubes are used to preserve someone's body at the moment of death in hopes that, if needed, information can be extracted from the brain. At least that is what the forerunners were told. When they took her away, Flel did as instructed by the Encyclopedia, and he tenderly thanked the transhumants. Everyone knew that not complying with a mutant meant retaliation, and usually that meant another mob coming with a cryotube.

The Godhand was about 51 kilometers south from the encampment. At the Godhand, there was no discrimination against race, political affiliation, or gender which, up until todays knowledge, meant a place of peace between the forerunners and the transhumants. Diplomacy can change quickly on Kvasir between relationships with the transhumants and even relationships with the other factions. The Godhand houses supplies and was known to be a meeting place for all of the different factions to engage in commerce. The water on Kvasir is ever so slightly chemically different than the water was on earth. It is fundamentally the same except for the isotopes. It must be filtered before it can be used. The water is abundant but the filtration methods are horded by the transhumants. The Godhand houses filtered water as well as other supplies required for living on Kvasir. It did not start like this, but the transhumants have fully taken over their own system of government here. In the beginning, the government of Kvasir was run by humans as well as transhumants, but somehow the humans were voted out of power.