The aircraft lurched yet again continuing its descent toward the surface causing several passengers to stir restlessly in their seats, anxious as they were to be back on terra firma. The flight had been relatively smooth since take-off, save for the rather harsh turbulence recently, but the crew and all of us passengers aboard were all more than thankful for the pilot’s acumen when it came to flying the lumbering transport.

 

     The sounds of the deploying wing flaps and landing gear were audible as the pilot slowed the craft, readying it for the imminent landing. The aircraft lurched once more, losing altitude as it approached the surface and yet again several passengers aboard grew evermore impatient as we readied for landing.

     

     Looking out the window I could now see the ground approaching through the cloud cover; tiny vehicles carried microscopic people about their mundane lives while we descended over the city. I watched as countless miniscule people carried out their daily routines and duties; taxi drivers, businessmen, construction workers, police officers and so-on, all carrying out their perennial tasks. I now wondered how I would be fitting into this every day working routine. Everything so coordinated and firmly set in repetitive motion; stop and go, red light and green light, work and sleep, on and off. Where do I fit into it all?

               

     Everywhere I looked there were signs of Terranity’s potential for greatness and simultaneously its mediocrity and banality. Grandiose skyscrapers and luxury apartment buildings full of wealthy executives arrayed the city center while the surrounding areas were interspersed suburban and urban areas rife with lowly tenant buildings where people wallowed in the squalor of middle-class inadequacy. Between these busy buildings, scanty houses, and packed housing projects were the bustling streets full of countless people all engrossed in their own lives. Intently I now looked evermore forward to the spacious and natural surroundings of my old home outside of the city, as it would provide a much needed escape from the constraints of the hustle and bustle of big city life.

               

     We continued over the main area of Emerald City and eventually out and over its surrounding burbs as we came ever closer to our landing. Off in the southern distance I could see a flickering trail of smoke shooting up into the sky. The pilot then came over the intercom saying, “Ladies and gentlemen we’re nearing our final approach; if you look out the left side of our craft you can see the trailing smoke of a space-bound shuttle. Its launch trail indicating it took off from down south near San Salam Valley. I can’t be sure of its cargo or destination but…” I missed the rest of the pilot’s words as I was off in another world following the shuttle as it steadily rose into the upper atmosphere. My mind drifted into thoughts of space and far off worlds and the idea of exploring them, until it inevitably arrived through the galactic mists of space and time on the thought of my father.   

               

     The recent mass production and development of space travel was directly linked to my father’s scientific achievements and his ultimate brain child—or children rather—and thusly many considered him the greatest man of the century, possibly of the entire third age. The massive shipyards and launch sites all over the globe that the UTF so vigorously constructed, the outlying space stations and retrofitting platforms orbiting the planet, the four orbiting satellite colonies nearing complete construction; these were all considered his greatest achievements and I couldn’t help but think of the magnitude of it all. There were already seventeen major space ports throughout the world with dozens of new ones sprouting up every year. It’s really too bad that Dad isn’t around to enjoy all of his monumental success.

 

     Not wishing to dwell too long on the thought of my father I readily welcomed the pilot’s words announcing our final approach, “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We are now on our final approach into Emerald Sound International Airport. Please return your seats to their upright positions and ensure your seatbelts are secured and fastened. We would like to thank you for flying with TransAmassian Airlines today and hope that you choose us for your future travels. We hope you enjoyed your flight and wish you the happiest and safest holidays this winter. We wish you continued safety on your travels and should Emerald City be your final destination, TransAmassian would like to be the first to say, welcome home.”

 

     The pilot’s last words echoed in my ears, “welcome home.” After traveling and schooling abroad for the last five years I was finally coming home. Of course I had come back and stayed for short periods of time for a few vacations and holidays, but this was the first time since I’d left home five years ago that I was back for an indefinite period of time. The thought was slightly unnerving but my attention was drawn away from my personal dilemma to the approaching ground.

 

     Ant sized cars and trucks had become entirely discernible and soon vanished as we passed over the outlying grounds of the airfield. The running lights came into view followed by the asphalt of the runway. The ground grew closer now and with a final jolt we made contact with the earth.

 

     Touching down, the pilots deployed the aircraft’s wing flaps to their full extension to begin slowing the craft to a full stop. The sounds of rushing winds passing over the wings created a dissonance that further unsettled those wishing to touch solid ground, but had not fazed me in the slightest as I was accustomed to the landing procedure after years of flying in older—cheaper—transports such as this TransAmassian passenger ship, which lacked the Vertical Take-Off and Landing capabilities of newer and more expensive transports.

 

     The craft finished its landing cycle and we began taxiing toward the gateway. As I heard the engines spin down I felt the general ease of the tension within many of the passengers aboard as they finally began to relax after touching down. The pilot brought us to the gate as I checked my Wrist Link for the time and any new messages, 10:55 am. We were exactly 25 minutes late from our scheduled arrival time of 10:30. As I realized that the turbulence was the obvious cause for our delay I received a Link message on my wrist-Link from my brother, Jonos, and hoped that he’d held true to his tendency of always being late.

 

     ‘Thirty minutes out. See you soon. TransAm right?’ He wrote punctually.

 

     Perfect, that gives me plenty of time to get my bag, hop on the metro and meet him at the post office where we’d have to go anyway. Having flown home from five years abroad I had accumulated a few modest possessions and baggage that I had to ship to myself rather than bring aboard the plane, that way they would be waiting for my arrival.

 

     I began composing a reply when we docked at the gateway and began disembarking the plane. The captain came over the intercom as restless travelers immediately took to their feet, “Again on behalf of TransAmassian we would like to thank you for traveling with us. Welcome to Emerald City.”

 

     Awaiting my turn to disembark among the several hundred passengers I finished my message to my brother, ‘Cool. I just got in and have to de-board and get my bags. Meet me at the SPEx post office on Willis St. That way you can avoid airport traffic.’ SPEx specialized in large shipping, postage, and exports to foreign countries and was ideal for me to use to send all my belongings home. 

 

     ‘Roger.’ He responded in his typical concise manner. Since I’d left for school my twin brother had spent his time at home at a flight school. He had enrolled in the Amassian Northwest’s premier flight school: Sound Side Aviation Academy and he’d become a certified flight instructor for many training flyers including the TF-12a—the civilian equivalent to the TF F-12 mk1 that the military used to train its fighter pilots. I remembered the immense pride I felt when I found out he had taken on such a monumental task and passed with the highest marks, but immediately returned to his prevailing tardiness to his friends—but more importantly me—and wondered how he’d managed to accomplish all that given his mostly detached view on most anything that involved effort.

 

     No matter, I thought as I saw the cabin thin out as the passengers in front of me made their way off the plane. I noticed the elderly woman across the aisle, standing with who I guessed must have been her grandson, and reaching up to retrieve her bag from overhead. Seeing that she could not quite manage the large bag I intervened and removed the bag from the storage bin and placed it on the aisle for her.

 

     “Thank you kindly young man.” The homely old lady said to me.

 

     “You’re quite welcome ma’am.” I responded cordially, hoping that her grandson might see my courtesy beyond his handheld videogame—he’d started to play it immediately after touching down—and hoped that he might go on to one day pass on such kindness. “Happy Endyears!” I added as the two began moving down the aisle-way and off the plane.

 

     “Happy Endyears to you too young man!” she said over her shoulder as she walked off. I was taken by surprise when the young boy then added, “Thanks for helping Grammie, mister. Bye-bye now!” He quickly turned and darted off to catch his grandmother.

 

     “See ya.” I said with a smile on my face as he ran off.

 

     Taking down my own bags I thought of how nice that interaction was until I was distracted by an unnerved passenger behind me as he huffed and impatiently interjected, “Great, Grammie’s finally off, can we get a move on now?!”

 

     “Calm down.” I found myself sternly responding, “Have some patience will ya?”

 

     “Oh I’m so sorry young man,” he said sarcastically, “now could you kindly get going?!” The passenger appeared to be some kind of UTF official; aside from his elegant black suit and pristine cut he bore a simple pin of the UTF logo that indicated his allegiance. He was tall and quite thin though certainly in shape, with a cleanly shaven face, slicked jet-black hair and a sharp nose. His eyes were sunken into his head and made him appear far older than the rest of his body and he spoke with a haughty and priggish tone. His sarcasm was biting and could have gone without what followed, “We don’t have all day ‘Mr. Post-grad.’ Some of us aren’t home to relax. Some of us have connections to make and business to attend to!” The agitated Fed had clearly heard me exchanging pleasantries with the woman sitting next to me at the beginning of the flight, and was aggravated as he felt my civility toward the old grandmother and her grandson was currently slowing him down.

 

     “Well excuse me for being courteous,” I retorted as I dramatically stepped aside to let the impolite Fed through. He scoffed and pushed passed me in a fluster as he made his way off the plane.

 

     “Wow…” the woman next to me said with a baffled look, shaking her head as we watched the Fed storm off, “you don’t know who that is, do you?”

 

     I shook my head.

 

     “That’s Chief Magistrate Dekkun Pikus. He’s one of the Federation’s ‘pocket politicians;’ one of their financial gurus who gets his way no matter the cost. He’s somehow always been able to find ways to keep the bureaucrats in power, much as they don’t deserve it; himself above all others. Yes, he’s kept our glorious United Terran Federation at the center of the so called New World Coalition for pretty much the entirety of its existence. He’s certainly someone you wouldn’t want to cross.”

 

     “Whatever,” I commented flatly. “I hope he makes his connection.” I followed up sarcastically, “what was he even doing on this flight anyway? Shouldn’t he be on a private Federation transport?”

 

     “He works for the government but isn’t necessarily a military officer, and from what I gather they try to put guys like him with us to remind us that they’re ‘regular people like us,’” the woman said, “though I am surprised that he was back here with us rather than in first-class.” 

 

     I didn’t care, he and I wouldn’t cross paths again and I didn’t want to dwell on it too long, I then turned to the woman and smiling at her cheerily said, “Happy Endyears to you and yours, it was a pleasure talking with you.” She exchanged the smile as I grabbed my bags and set off to disembark the aircraft.

I passed by the small staircase that led to the cockpit—as it was a raised flight deck—and thanked the pilots and service staff on my way through the door to the jet-way. Looking up into the cockpit I briefly entertained the thought of myself piloting a lumbering transport such as this but was distracted by another message from Jonos.

 

     ‘Where is the SPEx office again?’ it read.

 

     ‘Willis St. in the market plaza,’ I responded as I made my way off the jet-way, and through the east gateway toward the tram to the main terminal.

 

     Upon finishing the message I took a look around the gateway just in time to make uneasy eye contact with the rude Fed from the flight as he checked into his connecting flight. I overheard him make some kind of a fuss over first-class seating then I looked and saw that he had twenty minutes to departure and had plenty of time to board. What a jicko. I smiled and gave an obnoxious wave. He scowled, shook his head, and proceeded down the jet-way as I turned to make my way past various news and coffee stands toward the tram.

 

 

 

While riding the tram I was drawn to the idea of being home evermore as I took in the familiar surroundings of the tram car and gazed wide-eyed out the window as we traveled the elevated tracks between the east gateway and the main terminal. Taking in the city and the seascape beyond and the Great Mountain Cascade on the other side of the sound was simply captivating and I immediately felt comforted by the words that previously perturbed me: welcome home.

 

     The view was interrupted as the tram made its way into the main terminal and the automated message chimed, “Main terminal and baggage claim. Next stop: South gateway.”

 

     Leaving the tram and ascending a series of escalators I immediately faced the bustling area of baggage claim. I was fortunate as I only had to travel past two baggage terminals of the eighteen to find my flight’s bag drop. Fortune favored me all the more as I approached the conveyor where my duffle bag was already waiting among the other bags. Having my other bags on me already I grabbed and shouldered the large duffle and approached the exit.

 

     Stepping out of the terminal I felt increasingly at home as I took in the freshest breath of air I had had in months.  Breathing deeply I relaxed my mind, pushing all the nonsense with the aggressive Fed jicko from my thoughts and I was greatly comforted knowing that I was just an hour away from home. Returning to the reality of my surroundings I realized that I needed to cross the street to get to the airport metro station to catch my train to the post office. I was not however thrice fortunate as I saw my train fast approaching the station.

 

     Not wanting to be later than my notoriously late brother, I raced across the street, tapped my commuter pass at the turnstile and began vaulting the stairs to the upper platforms. I couldn’t be sure but I felt as though I was somehow faster than I had ever been before. Perhaps my city life had made me a more efficient and acrobatic commuter. My muscles flared and I leapt up the stairs in bounds of five and six steps at a time. Reaching the top I stepped onto the train seconds before the door sealed shut. Only after receiving an odd glance or two did I realize what just happened. I had sprinted across the street dodging traffic, swiped through the turnstile, leapt up the thirty some-odd steps dodging the disembarking passengers, and finally boarded the train; in all of about fifteen seconds. Not to mention I was carrying a back pack, a large duffle bag, and an additional travel bag with me. On top of the matter I was now furiously catching my breath and drawing attention to myself.

 

     Not wishing to endure peoples’ continued stares I made my way to a seat toward the rear of the train car away from the other passengers and plopped down for the ten minute ride to my stop as I contemplated what had just occurred.  I turned my gaze to the scenery of the ride outside and found myself mesmerized by the Great Mountain Cascade like never before. Taking in the view I drifted off into a deep unexpected sleep where I dreamt most vividly and strangely.

 

 

 

I saw myself in front of the Great Mountain Cascade, gazing up at its peak as it pierced the sky. The cooling wind blew in and cleared the wreath of clouds around the mountain and suddenly the earth shook, dropping me to my hands and knees. As I fell I looked to the ground and realized I was now on the mountain’s peak looking out over the expansive landscape. I looked around and saw the blazing sun in the sky which seemed to glare directly down on me. Suddenly before my eyes an enchanting ember lit in a small fiery blaze. The flames licked at my wind-chilled face and began melting away the snow atop the mountain peak. In a sudden rush I saw the melting snow flow from the mountains like a waterfall, becoming tidal waves of fierce strength. 

 

     Returning back to myself atop the mountain I realized that the fire had burnt out, the ocean of snow and water had eased away and the fierce winds ceased. All was calm on the mountain as I knelt with my palms flat on the earth. Impulsively I clenched my hands grabbing fistfuls of dirt and bringing them up I watched as dirt slipped through my fingers like sand. I felt the earth begin to shake yet again, this time far more tumultuous than before, and before I knew it the fire was burning again in a blaze more massive than before.

 

     The fierce winds returned bringing with them tidal waves of immense proportion that impacted the sides of the mountain. Stupefied by this ferocious clash of elements I gazed upward to find a dead white sky pierced with a malicious darkened mauve sun crackling with warped energy. Seeing this ominous sight my body stiffened and clenched the ground as the storm of sea, wind, and fire ravaged the space all around me. The blasting winds shot the tremendous waves up every side of the mountain converging on the precipice as the blazing firestorm danced around, shooting embers straight into the sky.

 

     Fearful of the malicious sun and bewildered by the tempest of elements my body clenched tighter and tighter until it seemed as though my muscles and limbs would burst. I sat in anxious amazement as I watched the violet sun grow and begin to engulf the sky. Taking in the whirlwind of elements and power and tightening my body to its maximum tension I suddenly, against all of the escalating commotion, let go. The cataclysmic storm exploded in an apex of energy and shot like a beacon up to the sky, piercing the malevolent sun with a blinding light. The result was an earsplitting explosion, louder than a supernova and brighter than 10000 suns. Then all had gone blank and before I knew I was even dreaming I was awakened with the sun on my face and the metro operator calling out, “Willis St. please take all personal items with you upon leaving the train. Willis St.” 

 

     Hearing this announcement I jumped to my feet and left the train. I walked down from the platform and began the two block walk to the SPEx office, all the while thinking of the clashing tempest of elements and that insidious purple crackling sun. Crossing the street my mind turned to the traffic and the sight of the post office. In the parking lot I could see my brother parked out front leaning against the car waiting for me. He had beaten me and broken his streak of tardiness, perhaps his flight training had included lessons on punctuality.

 

 

 

I approached my brother and couldn’t help but feel that wholeness I always felt with my twin. Reuniting with him was always such an uplifting happening, although it was never truly complete until we were with our other brothers Davriel and Cephus. I looked my twin over briefly after not seeing him for just over a year; he wore jeans and black leisure shoes along with a hoodie and a winter over coat, his hair was cut short, but was just long enough to see it start to curl as ours was prone to do—mine was rather long and beginning to dread. I looked into his deep brown eyes—along with the 13 minute difference in our age we shared a few differences, one of which was eye color, his brown, and mine blue. His eyes were smiling, as were my own and my twin and I greeted each other in our typical manner, “Sup?” we each said in unison before I dropped my bags and gave him a huge hug.

 

     We exchanged our common brotherly banter as I dropped my bags in the trunk of the car. He drove a recent model SEV (an all purpose vehicle), it was either last year’s model or the year before, I couldn’t tell, but knew that it was new for him. He asked how my travel was and I told him of my flight and the bothersome exchange with the irate Fed trying to make his connection, but all of this was erroneous compared to the metro-rail experience. While I told my twin of the events that transpired prior to boarding the train he stood and listened, taken aback by the whole situation; though he did not seem as surprised as one might think after hearing of someone exhibiting such physical prowess. Lacking much surprise he simply listened and once I’d finished, he curtly said, “That’s weird.”

 

     Always brief with my brother. For a fleeting moment I considered it strange that after explaining the situation I should get such a quip response, but sidelined the thought as Jonos cut in saying, “How ‘bout we get your stuff? Mom’s probably dying with anticipation to see you and the fiancé is expecting me after I get you home.”

 

     Fiancée: what a thought. They’d been dating for a solid four years before deciding to tie the knot. It was strange to think of my twin brother having a life different than mine. For so long, it’d been he and me, and Davriel and Cephus of course—now of course we were all over the world and living different lives—but now it seemed as though we’d have an obtrusive fifth wheel joining the mix, although we all had to admit that she was not only really cool, but also incredibly right for him.

 

     “How is she?” I asked.

 

     “Great,” he responded, adding, “she’s having a blast with all this wedding planning.”

 

     “I’m sure,” I smiled.

 

     I didn't want to unsympathetically interject and change the subject, but I felt obligated to inform my brother of what I noticed happening behind him in the SPEx office. During our interaction I’d noticed over my brother’s shoulder, a rowdy line forming within the building. Sharing the site with him, the two of us decided to enter the store and find out the source of the calamity.

 

     Stepping across the threshold of the store we were immediately greeted with a blasting cacophony: “Where’s my shipment?!”, “Why isn’t it here?!”, “What the hell happened?!”, and “What do you mean everything’s lost?!” were just a few of the recurring indignant phrases we heard in the SPEx office as we beheld the sour scene. Every possible clerk, teller, supervisor, errand boy, and even the suit-wearing manager, was busy with an unruly or concerned customer, trying to inform, calm, and console them; with further cacophony provided by the mass of customers waiting rather impatiently in the line for their turns.

 

     Approaching the rambunctious line I tapped the shoulder of the middle aged balding man in front of me, interrupting the incessant conversation he was having on his Link, which was a newer model and attached to his ear lobe rather than the wrist like my own, “S’cuse me sir, what’s all the commotion?” I simply asked.

 

     “Some shipping facility was bombed or something, lots of packages destroyed, screwed up all of their shipping lanes!” The man responded as he eagerly resumed his Link conversation, indignantly informing myself and the person on the other end that he’d been waiting for over 45 minutes already.

 

     I frowned as I turned to Jonos who was focused on the info ribbon spanning the ceiling over the countertops, it read, “Cascade Valley shipping facility suffers tragic terrorist attack. Package believed to contain explosive materials suspected to be in transit to government facility in Apacinia detonated and destroyed main depot; severe damage to the main building and ancillary facilities. Casualties were limited as 80% of the facility is automated, but 7 employees confirmed dead with 12 injured. Roughly 85% of all parcels within facility reported destroyed, including local deliveries, corporate parcels, and international shipments in transit through Cascade Valley SPEx.”

 

     My heart immediately sank. My shipment. My belongings. I’d shipped the majority of my possessions home to ease the burden of my personal luggage; including most of my personal collection of books—aside from what I carried with me—my notes from my studies abroad, several entertainment electronics, the majority of my wardrobe, and various odds and ends which I couldn’t fit in my luggage; it had all undoubtedly gone through Cascade Valley as it was the nearest SPEx facility.

 

     “Wow, bummer dude.” Jonos insouciantly chimed in.

 

     I tried to look at the brighter side of the situation, but failed to see how it could have been any better than it appeared. Staring blankly at the info ribbon as the message repeated my mind drifted away from the calamity of the SPEx, away from the angry pleas from unhappy customers and the defensive employees responsible for calming the disgruntled customers. I, unlike the seeming majority of people there, instead tried to focus on those who perished in the unnecessary attack and how the loss their loved ones now felt was infinitely greater than any anguish we now had for our lost stuff.

 

     The thought was slightly mood-lifting but somber nonetheless, and with that I turned to Jonos and said, “Well, it doesn’t look like there’s anything we can do about all this. Let’s just get out of here and go home. I’m sure I’ll be notified about the status of my shipment at some point.”

 

     As we left the SPEx I surprisingly felt somewhat uplifted, as though a weight had been removed, I realized that was because I just lost the vast majority of my possessions, but somehow I felt liberated from the whole thing, as though it was a weight off my shoulders, both figuratively and literally. Besides that, nothing could be done to change the outcome. Resigning myself to the loss, we got into Jonos’ car and made our way home.

 

     The drive was uneventful and fairly tranquil. I took in familiar scenes of trees, lakes, and mountains between the small cities and towns that made up the varying terrain on the way home. We talked about this and that; his fiancé, the wedding, my university trifles, his flight training, my free spirited education abroad, and other brotherly jargon, including the plethora of inside jokes and meaningless conversation typical to our interactions. It felt refreshing to be getting closer to home. The closer we got, the further the events of the day drifted from my mind.

 

     We drove over the expansive Silver Sound Bridge as we made our way back to the Shendale Peninsula. Over the right side of the bridge I could just make out the impressive peak of the Great Mountain Cascade. I was reminded of my dream and the unparalleled sense of calamity and tranquility it exhibited and again drifted off to sleep. My sleep was devoid of dreams and was ultimately short-lived as I awoke to Jonos simply stating, “We’re home.”