Chapter 1 

It’s Wednesday. Dazed with sleep, after a restless night where the old demons from the past plagued 
the mind, Elk stumbled out of bed to make some coffee, strong coffee. The never ending light poured in 
through the curtain less windows sending sharp flashes of pain trough his grey eyes and deep into the back 
of the head. “Sh*t, I’ll kill that fat ass bartender!” he thought. Legal drugs and alcohol mixes was tested and 
clear from those hangover effects but still there was no production on Calypso so they where all 
imported from the old worlds and they where expensive. Of course there were quite a few illegal producers 
on Calypso and most often they did not really cared about pureness and quality. 

Waiting for the coffee to be ready he entered the bathroom to splash some cold water in the face as a 
hopeless attempt to rid the aching. While stroking his unshaved chin and with bloodshot eyes studying the 
tanned, in advance wrinkled and worn face he saw something new. Right below the corner of his right eye 
there was a small mark. Closing up some to see better he found that it in fact was a tattoo! “What the f…!” 
he muttered. It was a small circle, about ten millimeters in diameter with a smaller circle inside. Through 
both the circles was a wavy horizontal line. Strange thing was that it did not look new. No swelling, no redness, 
no nothing. He knew that those fancy body and face sculptors could make tattoos and other kind of work 
without trace but no way had he had the credits to turn to some one of those. He scratched it some to 
make sure it was just not painted with some tattoo look-alike paint. It was not. 

Back on the couch with a mug of hot and black coffee he closed the eyes and tried to remember the night 
before. It had been just an evening as any evening. After tossing his gear in storage he had went to the 
bar for spending some of the few ped he had left on some booze and for some chat with his friends. Nothing 
unusual at all. Gibraltar, Ix and Rolf had been there, as usual. Ix, the bastard, lucky as always, bragged 
about the last good hunt. Elk did not really like Ix. He knew it probably depended on the fact that Ix had 
some strange quality that made him “always” be at the right place at the right time. He was not late with 
telling all about his luck and profitable runs either. Gibraltar and Rolf was more modest and humble. But, 
well, he had been out on some wild booze rounds and parties with them. He smiled at the memories. Gibraltar, 
which had something serious going on with Ms Mira Sweet left early. Tired, after the long days hunt and a bit 
dizzy after a couple of PandoraMix shots Elk left soon after. On the way home there has been a gang of 
young umbras dumpster diving in an alley. They had chatter and laughed in their own strange way until they 
saw him. They took off in hurry yelping, probably some very foul words, in his general direction. 

The message pad started to beep. He did stand up, and did regret the standing-up-thing immediately as 
the head starts aching again. Slowly he went over to the coat hanger and fetched the device from the 
pocket of the jacket. He pressed the play button. “Ay,maan! Watchadoing maan? Gonna ‘unt big t’day! 
Cooming?” He sighed deeply. It was Sonno. Sonnos idea of hunting big was gathering some hunters and while 
they did the job he just ran 
around and did nothing but talk, endlessly. Elk pressed the send button. “No, I’m busy” he said “…with 
a redhead” he added. That, in Sonno’s world, was probably the only acceptable excuse and maybe 
he wouldn’t spam the messpad with eager attempt at persuasion. Elk waited a few seconds and, yes, 
a new message. “K’maan! G’luck maan!” was the answer. With a sigh, now of relief, he went back to the couch. 

He sank down into the thoughts again. There had been something more the evening before. Yes, it had been 
that, what he first thought, a woman wearing a shawl wrapped around her head and had clothes of coarse 
fabric. She had been waiting just outside the complex where he lives. She had carefully approached him 
and looked jumpy. She called him by name with a strange accent but did keep her head bent down and 
stared at the floor all time. Hmm, now he couldn’t really understand how he could have mistaken her for a 
hooker, but he did. Hookers didn’t use to be shy! But on the other side she could have been new to the trade. 
One more of those immigrants from the old worlds that had seen promises and dreams crumble to dust and 
now hade been forced to do whatever to just stay alive on this god-forgotten planet. He had 
grabbed her arm and tried to take a closer look at her when her nerves apparently couldn’t take it 
anymore. She had screamed, pulled her arm back and stared at him with horror. She was an umbranoid! 

Before she sat off in hurry and fled she had hit him on the chest. Well, not really hit, just barely touched him. 
In a distance he could hear her running away shouting something over and over but he had not heard what. 
It was probably in umbra language. He had hurried in to the apartment complex just in case there was 
something going on. Maybe there were some bands of umbras roaming the neighborhood in hunt for some 
drunken humans on their way home to mug. 

“Hmm” he uttered. He did remember using the televator but there was something that was wrong with it, 
as usual one might say. He remembered that once it was broken so it was a one way trip to the roof and 
half the tenants was stuck there more than a day before the televator company had taken the time to 
get their lazy asses here to fix it. Anyhow, the night before he had tried to activate it several times before 
it eventually started up. The last thing he remembered was the enveloping of light. He could not remember 
entering the apartment though. Well, he had not been completely sober but strange it was. 

..........

Chapter 2 

“Thomas, do you really believe in using surfacers to accomplish this task?” Ania regretted the question as 
soon it had left her lips. Thomas was a great master but he also was short-tempered. To question 
him about this once again was not really a wise thing to do but she, as all mnemotians, did entertain 
suspicions against all surface living creatures. She did understand that the upcoming threat against their 
society was something extreme that required extreme measures but still… To her relief he just sighed 
and looked at her. “No, and yes” he said. “But, we now have no other choice. It is just a matter of weeks, 
or even just days, before the robots deep planet probes will find our bones, flesh and blood instead of minerals 
and enmatter.” She shuddered at the thought. “We are fools” he continued. “We are fools born and raised by 
fools!” She looked down at the floor. He was starting to get worked up and that was just what she did not want. 
“We wander in ignorance and think we are untouchable and THAT…is the swindlers to priests’ merits!” She 
saw how the blood starts pumping more furious under his translucent pearl shimmering skin. Thousands of times 
I have stated that this day would come. Thousands of times I have stated the importance of defenses and 
alliances and thousands of times the self centered hypocritical priests voted against me! She placed her hand on 
his and said softly “Thomas, please”. His dark eyes homed in on her face and slowly his tense body relaxed. 
“Yes, you are right. I am sorry Ania. I can not win a war with anger or words. We need warriors and we 
must set our faith to that we can use the surfacers and other beings up there. We now have work to do!” 

......... to be continued....

Chapter 3 

Elk grabbed his jacket and headed for the televator. He made sure to lock the door with the extra lock. 
One couldn’t be too sure nowadays. Not if there are umbra bands out there. He didn’t have much 
of value but what he got he needed and he was not of the wealth that he could easily replace it. Down 
at the square he stepped into the teleporter to get to Atlas Haven. He used to visit the bar there and 
check out the streaming news. When pushing the button in the teleporter a faint burning sensation 
appeared on the cheek about at the same place where the tattoo was located. When at Atlas Haven 
he stepped out of the teleporter rubbing the temples trying to get focus. Before the vision had 
recovered he heard a familiar voice. Familiar or not he was not very happy to hear it. “Ay maan Elk! 
What ‘append to you maan! Red’ead mean to’ya! Haha!” The last thing Elk wanted right now was 
Sonnos chatter “Uhu, damn, wrong place. See you later!” he said and stepped into the teleporter 
again. “Ey! Wait for me maan! Where’ya goings?” Sonno shouted. In hurry Elk pushed the button for 
Aegis Mound which is way too small and deserted for Sonno to even think about going there. Again the 
burning sensation hit his cheek! 
The teleporter light faded for leaving a surprise. He was not at his desired destination. In fact he was 
not even at a teleporter station! He was in the middle of nowhere. Confused he looked around. 
Sand dunes everywhere as long as he could see. He grabbed the messpad and checked the built in gps 
and radar. No nothing at all. Position zero zero zero. The radar, just as the mess pad, only gave static 
noise. It was not the first time the teleporters acted up but never had he been thrown out into the wild 
where all instrument signals were jammed! “I don’t want this sh*t!” he shouted at whatever gods that 
would listen and once again the headache made itself reminded and he let out a faint curse. Well, he was 
not unused to the wilderness 
and could run for hours without pause but without any gear but a small knife it was not a pleasant 
thought. Nothing else to do though and he started to run. 

..........

Chapter 4 

Thomas shivered from the cool breeze in the tunnel. Only at rare occasions he entered the caves this 
close to the surface. Curiosity and lust for adventure had made him explore them when he 
was young. He could still feel the shill that ran down his spine the first time he noticed that something 
else moved about just around a corner of the tunnel. As a child he had heard numerous horror 
stories about surface creatures. Anyhow, with time he had learned that most of the stories were 
inventions by the priesthood. Of course was it dangerous up there but not that inferno of blood thirsty 
creatures in the stories. Biggest threat to mnemotians was probably the radiation from the suns 
and old wars between surfacers and robots. He remembered how he at that time for the first time 
met the umbra kind. It was a young umbra couple using stones hacking the wall of the tunnel and 
gathering small shimmering stones. To his surprise he could understand some of the words! After 
some mutual fear and distant studying of each other he had started to try communicating with them. 
It had been some of a success! Their language seemed primitive but filled with similarities of his own. 
It was at this time he had started to ponder about the relationship between the two species and the 
origin of his own kind. When it was time for him to leave he had given them a soft glowing sharp 
blade he had found in his exploration of the tunnels. He showed them how easy it was to dig out the 
shimmering stones with it. They looked at him with eyes big of first surprise then slowly 
changing to desire. When he left he did for the first time in his life experienced physical 
violence at close as the umbras started to fight about the blade. 

“Did you set the patch on the human?” Thomas asked. The small umbranoid female looked 
down at the rough floor of rocks. “Yes, wiz, master” she said. “Hurry Ania! Start the interception!” he 
shouted. “Good work, Ngala. Here!” he handed the umbranoid two knifes in sheaths. The silverish eyes 
of the umbranoid woman gleamed with pleasure while stroking the new knifes. “Thank you, wiz 
master. Thank you, wiz master” she said and hurried away trough the narrow tunnel. Thomas ran 
back deeper into the tunnel and entered a temporary control room. Anya was already connected to a 
terminal and her frail body trembled and twisted as a result of hard work with the interception system. 
Thomas quickly entered the other commando chair and put on the interface helmet. He saw Ania was 
holding onto the televator controls not letting the human activate it until also Thomas was online. 
Now he brought up the interception and floating controls. “Do you have clear signals from the 
beacon Ngala gave him?” he asked. “Yes, he is wearing it!” Ania answered. Thomas told Ania to let go 
of the televator. The human pushed the televator button and at the same time Thomas and Aila let 
the full force of the interception system gather up the pattern of the man forcing it out and into their 
own pattern field tank. 

Free from the limitation of physic laws they could communicate in lightening speed when 
connected. “How do we know this human is good for our cause?” Ania asked while they looked 
at the man floating in the tank. “We don’t” Thomas answered. “But you have seen the files. The 
profile fulfills all our requests. Now we might take some help from the priests with prayers that 
he don’t is too irrational.” The sarcasm at the priest and praying part could not even the virtual 
commando interface filter out. “Now, let’s mark and tag him” Thomas said. 

.......... to be continued

Chapter 5 

Imina whipped the dust of her hat before entering the apartment. She felt an urge to wet the dry lips 
with her tongue but did try to restrain. She knew better than get a mouth full of sand and dust. It had 
been a profitable run this week. Not that she was very thrilled to guide rich brats through the 
“wilderness”. With gear better then she could ever dream about to own herself they scamp the 
hunt with their noisy and impatient advance. The pay was good though. Even better was the bet she 
won the first night. When they had raised the camp for the night and the caroot beers have been 
flowing for a while they had insisted that they paid enough for her to extend her services to the 
more intimate sort. She had agreed on the condition that they could get her clothes off before she 
got theirs. They had laughed but the deal was set that she should have 10 PED per garment she,” at 
chance” succeeded to rip of them. With egos boosted by the beer and hormones flowing it had been 
some struggle. It ended with her shades mashed in the dirt as only loss at her part and four naked brats 
that she, laughing, chased into the tents while whipping their flubbery, decadent flesh. At the end 
of the week they had been almost decent to have around though. After that first night and then some 
occasions when she had saved their sorry asses when they tried to bring down way to big creatures 
their respect for her had raised a couple of levels. 

She tossed the gear in the hall right inside the door. Stripped the clothes off and tossed those in the 
laundry basket. Splashed some water in the face to rid the dust and went out to the kitchen to get 
something to drink. She blended some paplon and ice, added some gin and brought the drink with her 
into the bathroom. Sweet scents filled the air. Soft music from the old world started to play as 
she entered the tub. She let the hands wander over the skin and felt the scars. All of them were 
memories, runes carved as messages and reminders. One big tear that ran from the left shoulder over 
the left breast and to the navel was still sore and pink from the new and healing skin. It was the rune 
that told about her own arrogance and carelessness. It was the rune that told about her first encounter 
with the falxangius sort. Numerous of times, when she was in for renewing the samples, had the 
bio-assistants at the revival authority asked if she would like to recall an younger version of the 
“outer casing”. She smiled at the term. Even she was well off and could afford that extra service 
she had decided to keep her history living as a map through time in the skin. 

Wile sipping the drink she let the thoughts wander. She felt a pain in the stomach each time the 
memory of her first boyfriend swept through her mind. It was with him she had made the travel 
from earth to start a new life in this “golden land where all dreams can be true” as they advertised 
it. She had been a secretary and he had worked as a janitor in the same building. Big fusions where 
ahead and they would soon be out of job so they had not been hard to persuade into this “great 
opportunity”. On the way the transporter had been destroyed by the robots and something had gone 
wrong with the database and he could not be revived. She had never felt so lonely as then. After 
revival the passengers had been directed straight into the landing ship where they had been 
locked in. No one in the space station crew answered any questions they just looked away. Suspicions 
rose in the crowd and some prayed, some start to panic and some just went blank. We had been 
among the first two thousand of arrivals. The airport was the only thing that looked fresh and new. 
Everywhere there had just been ruins and junk. No houses, no nothing. Just a crowd of people in 
ragged clothes and with very hungry eyes. 

The first months had been nothing but a struggle. People killed for crumbs or less. She soon lost count 
over how many times she had puked her guts out in the nausea after revival. If it has not been 
for Thunder, the big, strong, noisy but kind old sergeant, she would probably still be stuck in 
that treadmill. He had found her shaking and cold of hunger under a bush at the outer border of the 
port right when he was about to relieve the pressure and water the plant. He had brought her to his 
simple shelter and fed her with roasted daikiba meat, caroots and fresh water. He loved to talk. He 
told stories from the old world. He told about his travels this way and that through Calypso. He told 
her about the other outposts that have started to grow. He told her about hunting. He told her about 
mining. All he told her was sucked up and nursed within her heart. After a couple of weeks she followed 
him to Atlas haven, “the finest outpost there is” as he said and it really was! 

The music stopped and she was brought up from the pool of memories. “There is a visitor outside the 
door” the house said. “Who is it?” she asked a bit confused by the fact that “house” didn’t tell her who. 
“I don’t know” was the answer. 

.......... to be continued