Ascent
Cold sand hissed against sharp red rocks. A wind was picking up, the first sign of a storm brewing in the high desert. The air smelt of salt. This region had once been a great inland sea in ancient times. If one dug down deep enough, they would find remnants of old fishing fleets and docks. There was a prosperous trading hub here at one time, using the blue waters for commerce and trade. But that was many millennia ago, before the natural world claimed its land back from the sea.
But ancient ruins and old stories of a by-gone age were something romantic... and of no use to the man scaling the disused pathway up the mountain slope. He breathed in the arid through a cloth over his mouth, but the fine grains still got through the fabric and choked his throat and nose. His leather hat buckled under the wind. It blinded him from watching his steps but not as much as the stinging sand in his eyes when he'd right the brim. He found the butt of his large rifle came in handy to feel his way along the path, scraping the metal butt plate against the stone, smacking the sharp ledges that could have tripped him. The dryness of the air made him want to take a drink, but he knew as soon as he'd draw out his drinking skin it would fill with sand. Instead, he opted for wetting his mouth with his own saliva and swallowing down the clods of sand in the back of his mouth.
The wind kicked up more and he could hear thunder in the distance. His ears twitched frantically at the sound. Desert thunderstorms were notoriously dangerous. At this elevation, lightning was a good possibility. His only hope would be to take some kind of shelter. His pace hurried as he ascended the path. his boots slipped on loose rock and he almost fell several times. The weight of his pack wasn't doing him any favors at the moment. His free hand searched for any indentation in the rock face that he might be able to tuck himself into. Fortunately, he managed to do more than tuck when he missed a step and found himself flailing right into a small cave along the path. He landed on his shoulder, letting out a curt grunt of discomfort as his own weight and the weight of his pack compounded on it.
He rolled himself over into a sitting position and proceeded to dust off his clothing.
"Nothing like a sudden sandstorm to remind me why my people got the hell out of the desert in the first place." He groaned, taking off his hat and beating it against his knees.
His long ears uncurled from around the back of his head where the wide brim hat could protect them from the elements. It didn't work as well for sand as it did sun though. He flicked his ears and sand flew from the long lashes of hair at the tips.
Once he had himself cleaned off, he unlatched a side pocket on his pack and pulled free a large leather-bound journal that was secured by a strip of leather lace in a rolled up fashion. He unbound the journal and opened it up. Page after page was littered with notes, map coordinates, and various sketches of different landmarks. He flipped through until he found the entry he had made the previous day. There was a sketch of the mountain he was currently climbing, as well the path he was on. The previous day had been all too clear and visibility at a distance showed him the route he wanted to take to a large, round object sketched crudely into the journal and listed only as "The Big Dome". He had high hopes for the dome, but his eagerness got the better of him. He should have found shelter and bunkered down before the storm started, but that would have pushed his expedition back a day.
If all his travels had taught him anything, it was to never overlook a possibility. This dome could be the key to unlocking the secrets he was looking for.
He didn't have time to ponder what could be, as the wind started to shift and began to hurl the blasting sand into the cave. He hurriedly stuffed his journal back into his pack and stuffed his hat back onto his head. His temporary sanctuary had now become a death trap. The walls of the cave funneled the gale around him. Sand hit his body from all angles and burned at anything that was remotely uncovered. A bolt of lightning darted in front of the explorer. The storm had changed course now and was practically on top of him. His only chance was to reach the dome and hope he could find better shelter near or in it.
He rushed up the craggy path as fast as he could. Tripping and falling off the steep incline was less of a concern now that the storm was barreling on top of him. He coughed and hacked as he breathed, his efforts forcing him to take deep breathes and for each one a wash of sand went down his throat. At first, he couldn't make out the shape of the dome, but to his relative relief, he soon found the curved outline of the structure appearing in front of him. His eyes were bloodshot, but dared not risk closing them and losing his direction. He trudged harder, matching the biting wind with his will.
He could feel the craggy path give way to something flat and level. It wasn't the shale his boots had been crunching into the majority of the climb. It was firm and even. It didn't give at all under his weight and he used this to start running. Barely visible, the path was white against the red haze of the sandstorm. Soon the white path became a large, solid wall of white. As he got closer, he could see the sand bouncing off of the wall and he looked up. The dome, buffeted by clayish muddle of the storm , loomed over him. Triangular inserts embedded into the round surface and drifted the wind into unusual patterns around the structure. Everything was polished to a luster, even under the storm conditions.
Another snap of lightning behind him snapped him back into the tense reality of the situation. His lungs heaved under the pressure as the storm loomed over him. All of his senses were being drowned out into one big red mess. He toppled against what he thought was the wall of the building, unable to stand against the might of wind and sand. He felt something jab him in the side. His had drifted down to grab the foreign object and he felt something familiar.
A door handle.
He lurched at the handle frantically but it wouldn't budge.
Locked.
All he could think about was getting inside and away from the storm. He took up his heavy rifle and slammed it against the door. He felt the weight of his gun rattle the door. He lurched back and slammed the door again. It rattle and creaked under the force of the weapon, but didn't open. Finally, without anything left as an option, he leveled the rifle to his hip, slammed the bolt hard to force a round into the chamber, and fired. The rifle slammed back hard into his elbow and pelvis. The bullet lit a blue flash out the barrel of the gun as it exited and proceeded to blast a hole through the dense door. With what was left he could muster, he leaned his shoulder in and slammed into the entrance. A stroke of luck was on his side as his firearm had blown the lock and the door swung free under his weight. He toppled in unceremoniously to the floor. He laid there for all of two seconds before realizing he was letting the storm in as well and he kicked the door shut as hard as he could to latch it.
Silence.
No more storm. No sand. The wind was no longer heard, even as an echo.
Thirst.
The explorer threw his pack from his back and lunged on top of it. Pulling off the cloth that had been covering his face, revealing a well trimmed beard, he pulled free his water skin and popped off the tab with his teeth. He tipped his head back and gulped down water greedily. The sand in his throat was washed down. He felt the cool re-hydration of his mouth as one the most welcoming sensations he'd experienced since breakfast that morning. He pulled the skin back and let the water pour across his face. Dropping the drinking vessel to the floor, he rubbed his hands against his wet face in an attempt to wash the grime away.
He breathed heavily, feeling both exhausted and reawakened at the same time.
Long ears twitched irritably as the intrepid explorer got to his feet to observe his surroundings.
The interior of the dome building was stark white. Clean. As if those that had been there so long ago had only just left. Rounded furniture, made of glossy stone, sat in organized fashion around long, rectangular tables.
In the center, surrounded by the tables, was a raised cylindrical platform. Upon the platform lay a large machine, tubes and gears stuck about the massive tube that projected up toward the ceiling. A huge sphere decked in saucers was hoisted at it's tip.
"If that's what I think it is..." the explorer muttered. He forgot all about the climb up the mountain and his body's aching muscles silenced. His feet found there way back underneath him. He made his way to what he could only assume was the front of the machine.
From his pocket he fished out a long metallic card with various rectangular holes punched out of it. He slid it into a slot in the machine and said a little prayer. Nothing happened at first, the card only coughing out a small film of dust from the slot. He frowned slightly. He hadn't expected much. A device as old as this one had a small chance of still being operational. Now he had to try to figure out how to fish his card back out of the machine without resulting to bludgeoning it out.
Lights blared to life and decorated the room in a bath of white glow. The explorer covered his eyes, shunning the sudden change in light that offended his eyes harshly. The machine buzzed to operation in his ears. As sudden as the light had came, it went to a deep dark. He pulled his hand back from his face and what he saw was glorious.
Stars surged with intensity in a myriad of colors. Far off galaxies spun slowly around and around in a spectacular dance. A pulsar flashed on and off in the distance. A deep dark hole was stabbed thru the universe, the images around it twisting and gnarling into its core.
The ceiling of the dome was filled with every working the universe provided. The explorer grinned from ear to ear, knowing full well what he had found was no castle or stronghold. It was something far more important to him.
It was an observatory.
He spun in a circle, trying in vain to jot down notes and make sketches into his journal. It proved fruitless, as every time he glanced, he'd see a new and more amazing image to try to take note of. His elation, however, came to a sudden end. Out of the corner of his eye he made out something strange. Something that didn't follow the chaos that machine flung to all corners of the room. Seven lights, constant and bright, moving in a straight line across the star map. Nothing natural would move like that. Even comets had elliptical patterns. These were straight.
His eyes narrowed on the lights. His brow furrowed in a small mix of anger and disgust. He felt a sense of longing, but rage slowly mounting as well. He knew what these lights were... and they were the reason he had come here.
A panel flipped out of the machine next to him and letters in a his own tongue scrolled across it:
Do you have an inquiry?He looked at the screen briefly.
"Yes. Yes I do." he said.
He reached up to the ceiling and curled his fingers around the seven lights until he had a white hot fist formed around them.
"Why did my people leave me behind?"
