Christos followed the line of passengers off the ship. He had made it to bridge 33 of 102. From time to time, as he got closer to the central atrium, he would see the long line of passengers snaking around the ship, waiting to disembark. The main exit was on bridge 18, and there was only one line to get out. He had been in line for the better part of two hours, but he had nothing to complain about, and no one to complain to. The line moved ever so slowly, but move it did. Most wished that the line would stop moving, and that they would remain on the ship.
Despite the nearly twenty thousand passengers waiting in line, the ship was plunged in silence if not for the occasional baby cries. No one had taken their luggage, it had been strongly discouraged. All they had were the clothes on their back, and the fear in their bellies. Every five minutes, the sirens would blare. Then a message would follow, a simple message: "Welcome to Earth. Due to an ongoing conflict, de-boarding is slower than usual. Passengers with ties to Earth will be allowed onto connecting transportation, when possible. Other passengers will be housed in facilities until the conflict has ended and their status can be established. We thank you for having travelled on the Mars-Express and hope to see you again soon."
Christos had no ties to Earth. He had come on a tourist visa. This was his first time. The information he had gotten during the trip was limited. There had been talks of turning the ship around when the war had started, returning home to Mars. But they had been told that this would put the life of every passenger at risk. So they had had to land on Earth.
Christos clinched to his passport despite its worthlessness. Slowly, he made it to bridge 22, still in line. Hunger raged through his body, but he barely noticed. All he could feel were his legs paining, and the worries submerging his mind. He could not even imagine beyond exiting of the ship.
"You, come with us." A man and a woman that had come from behind pulled him out of the line with little care. They were both wearing blue face masks and white gloves. "Mr Iri? Christos Iri?"
Christos looked at them each, trying to understand what was going on. He had not seen anyone being pulled away for as long as he had been waiting in line. He did not see the point in denying his identity, so he nodded.
"Follow us, please."
The woman lead the way, Christos followed. They walked parallel to the line of passengers, from bridge to bridge. Initially, Christos felt special. He was the only one having been picked out and was now lead right to the front. Until an unsettling feeling grew within his bod, something was wrong. Why had they not asked his wife and daughter with him? He thought better than ask.
They arrived at the very front of the queue, at the ship's entrance, where the checks were being performed. Several men with riffles were standing in front of the main exit door. On the side was a woman with a thin face, bright red hair and blue eyes, a face Christos would never forget. The motion of her head seemed to dictate the rhythm of the queue.
As Christos approached, a family was being processed. The youngest child went first. He was taken away by a man, and through the door, out of the ship. His brother followed suits, taken by another man. Their mother shrieked as she saw her children taken away and the doors close behind them. Their father looked on stoically. The both of them were split, taken by a different man, also through the doors. There was no telling what happened beyond it.
"Weaker when split," Christos heard her chuckle to someone in uniform next to her.
Christos was next. He was not stopped. His minders cleared the way. Instead of being taken through the door, to the outside, he was taken through a side panel deep into the ships' entrails. There he was put on an elevator that shot up as soon as the doors had closed, seemingly bringing him back to where he had started. When the doors opened again, he found himself on the top deck, the command bridge.
"Welcome," a uniformed man greeted him. "Mr Iri, please come with me."
Christos did as he was told. The bridge was vast and surrounded by windows. They were so far it was difficult to see through them. Still, this was the first look he had of Earth, it's blue atmosphere. He could maybe make out some land, but he was not sure. He followed his host to a dining table. Three women and one man were already seated. There was one seat left. They were Earthers.
"Join us," said the woman closest to him as she stood up. "You must be starving, please have some food."
In silence, Christos did as he was told. The food was more than welcomed though Christos remained alert. The four people around the table did not appear friendly. Christos thought about his wife and his daughter still in the queue but was soon interrupted by the woman.
"Thank you for joining us, Mr Iri." Christos started to eat, thankful for the food. "We brought you here because we would like your help." Christos paused and raised his head. "We are going to need your expertise. We hear you are a quantum physicist ...".
YOU ARE READING
Back from Earth
Fiksi IlmiahA collection of science fiction short stories linked to a broader story where Martians are caught in the crossfire of a worldwide conflict on Earth.