Worldwide nuclear warfare decimated the Earth in 2045. Shortly after the destruction, The Council emerged. They proposed one solution: send the most valuable survivors to Kepler-168F, a planet with similar conditions to Earth.
At eighteen, Etta Par...
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Kepler-168F, Oppidium (Sector 1) Etta Parker.
THE FLOODING had come early this year.
Etta Parker tugged her threadbare jacket tighter against the torrent of sleet coming from the north. Her thumbs looped around the excess fabric at her wrists; a futile attempt to shut out the raging wind and warm her numbing fingers.
The rain hadn't ceased for a week, maybe more. It was unusual for this time of turning. The messengers had reported that the crops were rotting in the soil, drowning underneath the swells of water. Some whispered that there would be a food shortage. Others feared another period of darkness.
Etta tilted her head backwards, exhaling smoke. Today was supposed to be her late shift. She'd had plans -
The crackle of radio noise cut through the morning air. Etta jolted from her secluded hiding place; a precarious ledge in the soldier's quarters that overlooked Oppidium. She dropped her cigarette, cursing as it fell into a puddle of icy slush. What a waste.
The radio crackled again. More persistent, this time.
Etta exhaled through her teeth. She counted from twenty, lingering on one, diving for the radio when she couldn't delay any further.
"This is Parker, over."
"This is Brandt. You must report to headquarters, over."
Hendri Brandt was the secretary of Ivy Alcado. He stood at around six foot three, taller than most who arrived on Kepler-168F, with a heavy-set body to match. Many soldiers joked that Brandt would have been better suited to a life as a soldier. Etta was inclined to agree.
"I'm on duty, over."
Etta eyed the growing crowd. Word had spread quicker than they'd anticipated.
There would be a hanging at noon. A child, no older than ten rotations. He'd been caught for thievery. A petty crime, but a crime nonetheless. Etta didn't think such a harsh punishment was suitable for a child who knew no better - especially a child with no previous record. She had tried to talk to her superior into bargaining Ms Alcado into a lesser sentence, with little luck. Even Damnationium, the prison state, would have been a better fate for the child.
"That's irrelevant. Ms Alcado requests your presence, over."
"Ms Alcado," Etta spat the words out as if she'd swallowed a poisonous berry. "Can get fucked. I'm not leaving my post without my superior's permission. There's a growing crowd of angry people and you need soldiers to contain it, over."
Silence. Etta thrummed her fingers against the radio impatiently.
"Parker, this is Walker. Leave your damn post and go to headquarters. I don't want to hear another word from you, got it? Over."
Etta ran her tongue over her teeth. She exhaled. Inhaled. This was madness. What was so important that she had to leave her post? There was little need to worry about riots breaking out when one of the Chosen stood guard. People feared them, if not respected them. If Etta left, they'd risk leaving gaps in their post. That was never a good idea.
