By Andrew D. Wright

Sun scorched desert air fell on me with the weight of centuries of windblown grit and my lungs seized in mid breath. My hand instinctively flew towards the recall hex on the console, down the lower right side. It has never been put anywhere else, no matter who built it. My hand stopped where it was as I saw unfamiliar shapes flickering dimly on a slate grey freestanding piller almost waist high. This was all wrong and my stomach turned to water as it registered that I had never, ever seen a console like this. Nobody not dead for ages had.