Like Veins of Red Rubies (Most Precious Book 1)

Stanley took wide, uneven steps through the streets past the domiciles. He patted his dirty clothes to straighten them and ran his hand through his scruffy hair many times until it became somewhat neat.

  He reached town square. Only a few people were still around, but they were returning home. The clock read ten.

  Stanley walked to the vending machines and set his bag on a railing.

  Buckner was standing there, having his pill.

  "Hello Stanley," he said. "Today was a hard day. What are you doing out and about?"

  "I’m going to visit the archives. I might just stay up all night," said Stanley. "And I'll need energy to do that." He fumbled in his front pockets, but found they were empty so he searched his back ones. He withdrew two coins and inserted them into the machines and received two pills and two cups of water. He swallowed the two pills and drank the water. He tried to grab his bag with his other hand, but he missed the handle and knocked it off the edge. The bag fell to the floor and its contents - the three metal sticks and the metal tube - sprawled across the floor.

  "Let me help you with that," Buckner said. But when he saw what had fallen out of the bag, his face darkened.

  "No need for that," said Stanley. He went down and scooped everything straight in. "But thank you." He continued on his way as Buckner watched.

  Stanley walked out of town square and passed the rarely visited storage rooms. The maintenance system would usually brush the dirt away, but a thin layer had settled there. The deeper he walked, the thicker the dust was. He entered a dark corner, a place where the light of the town did not reach. A faint red light flickered and Stanley walked toward it. He stepped close to it and ran his fingers below it and pressed a button. Two metal doors slid open and revealed a small room that was dimly lit by an array of green and red buttons. The wall across had a giant black screen that hung there in silence. Stanley stepped in and the doors slid back in place.

  Stanley edged forward and rested his hands on the cold, metal control panel. There were numerous buttons, some green, others red, a few of them flickering. In the middle was the largest of them all--a red button with a circular logo engraved on it. It glowed from a dark red to a light one and repeated. Stanley held his finger above it before finally pressing it.

  The screen above him lit up and the new light blinded him. He brought his arm to his eyes and after a few moments, he looked up.

  The screen displayed a simple, white interface that was divided into two sections - one labeled USERS and the other ARCHIVES. Stanley pressed the button that was below USERS. A long list of names appeared. At the top was J. Albertson.

  Stanley chuckled. He then clicked the button below ARCHIVES and a list of years appeared. They were highlighted into different groups and classified by different eras. He read down the list, which did not seem to end. A sigh escaped as he hung his head and glanced at his feet. He turned to the side and saw a small metal chair. He went over to it and brought it in front of the screen then sat on it. He looked up and clicked on one of the more recent years and read.

  Stanley remained in the archives, in that flimsy uncomfortable chair for hours. The files presented decades of history in minutes. It detailed the record of the great disaster, accompanied by pictures of what it would have done to Earth. Scenes of scorched plains and dark skies were prevalent. He read deeper into the history. There were accounts of space travel and numerous wars – things that nobody ever spoke of or probably knew about. Everything intrigued him, but he was there for something else.

  Stanley flipped through a few centuries and reached the Mid Information Era. Something there stood out in particular. It was a picture of a man who was using one of the metal sticks to fit something in his mouth. The thing looked like a tree, but it was small, not like the ones in the atrium. And he was using the three pointed metal stick to pick it up. Beside it was a picture of a man with a pill in his hand. The picture was labeled The Transition from Food to Pill.

  Stanley scrolled a little more down the history. He found a picture of a smiling woman with a needle in her arm, the needle being pushed by a man using a plastic tube. The picture was labeled 'The End of Medicinal Injections'.

  Stanley looked away from the screen.

  "They are tools," he said. "They are."

  He went even deeper into the history, to the Late Industrial Era. A picture of a man, a woman, a little boy, and girl appeared. They were lying on a red blanket, on a green meadow, under a blue sky lit by a yellow light.

  Stanley's mouth opened.

  A rush of air escaped through it. Another came out, then a few more escaped, until words came with them.

  "I.."

  Another rush.

  "What…"

  Another rush.

  His mouth closed. Two long drops of water ran down and fell into his lips, sealing them. He raised his hands, covered his face, and rested his elbows on the control panel.

  After a long while, he stood up. He turned the screen off and walked to the doors. He turned and looked at the room. Then he stepped out.

  He walked through the dark streets and reached town square. The clock read four.

  Stanley made his way to the cave. He walked across the mushy dirt, where the lake had once been. He stopped in front of his tunnel and set his bag down. He equipped his gear and grasped the drill. Then he started climbing.

  TEN